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This is a story written in batmans RP-rule-system. I move it here for easier reading and hope for your input and ideas - if anyone else than batman wants to interact with my story too, feel free to send me a dm! The plot so far in shortest shortness: Elyna is taken as a pawn to guarantee her peoples subservience to their new duchess of the land they settle on. During her first dinner at the castle the elf Elyna gravely insults her overweight hosts and triggers heavy consequences for herself... The rules can be found here:

By: BaneOfDreams (https://www.deviantart.com/baneofdreams/art/Gluttonous-Wetwork-Chapter-One-855634991?ga_submit_new=10%3A1600543897) Summary: An elite mercenary of proud heritage, Snow-White, is tasked with eliminating a problematic magical girl on a long list of them: Candy. What seemed to be a simple task quickly turns into a horrific trip into decadence and decay. The lone patron of a small-town diner white hair hinted at her peculiar heritage: Thanatonian. An amalgamation of several years of selective breeding to produce a society of elite soldiers. Snow-White was one of the highest profile of her kind and for good reason. The femme fatale has been all over the world facing all sorts of threats that range from the run of the mill warlord that needs to be taken down a notch - or a cyborg that has broken their corporate directives and has gone rogue. Usually, she would find herself nestled up in a defilade biding her time waiting to strike at who, or what, her handler, Queen, had designated to be her next contract to support the cause; however, this operation was different. It was a bit more - subtle? Down to Earth? Homely? Snow-White contemplated this as she poked at her third calorie-clotted pastry that had been halfway devoured. However, the specifics of her operation were soon overtaken by a burning issue: The first pastry, not enough cream. Second one, still not enough. Her analytical mind mused on, usually accustomed to calculating bullet drop, now trying to determine the proper amount of whipped cream would be a suitable amount for her strawberry pasty. The waitress had been so kind to give her an ample bowl of creamy-white-goodness, but she had used almost all of that up already. Snow-White scrapped at the bowl trying to scoop up the last bits of cream and apply it to her yet to be finished pastry. She let out a little grumble of disappointment seeing as she could only get a thin layer onto her pastry before running out of residue to spread. Truthfully, she wanted to beckon that ginger-haired waitress on over to request yet another bowl, but social situations were not her forte. Instead, she elected to look to her right and view the inky black night. Truly, this was a lonely little town of ones: one stoplight, one diner, one school - but that was typical for rural America. What was unusual is that her work, tracking a high-profile target, brought her here. Usually, if this was a typical operation, she would be in a bustling city or deep wilderness - not some backwoods town where everyone knows each-other. But she was never one to argue with Queen's intel. So, she passed the time and went go get something sweet as-per her handler's advice. But there still was not enough cream! "Here ya' go sugar," a sultry voice cooed. Snow-white turned to face the voice. It was that ginger waitress who, to Snow-White's surprise, managed to creep up on her without her finely tuned senses noticing her. She must be getting tired, incredibly bored from the bland operation, or some combination thereof because even a literal phantom could not get the drop on her. Snow-White's foggy blues were locked onto the waitress with some lingering astonishment and suspicion. The short-skirted uniform that hugged her soft-hourglass alluded that this waitress had no formalized training other than the occasional extra doughnut - a body more suited for pleasure rather than creeping about. After-all, the ginger's full, undimpled, plush thighs hugged each-other so tightly that any fine-tuned movement would probably be off-set by a clap of sorts. "Uh, sugar, you're makin' me blush with that stare," her milky-white skin had begun to shift to a color matching her ginger hair. She tapped the table and pushed forward another bowl of cream along with an additional pastry, "On the house. Figured ya' had the appetite." Snow-White realized her rudeness and averted her gaze. She was not one for small talk, so she expressed her gratitude with a small nod and hoped this would dismiss the shapely server. Unfortunately, it did not. "Couldn't help but notice your pretty-pretty white hair," the waitress put her hand on the booth just behind Snow-White's back and leaned in closer, her bulbous breasts revealed by her slightly unzipped top quite close and on display, and a sweet smell of perfume basking from her fleshy body, "Don't look dyed either, ya one of them legendary fighters?" Snow-White received her nickname, despite not being the only of her race with white hair, for her refusal to hide it. It was a intimidation factor of sorts and a fun challenge; unfortunately, in these quiet moments, it was a potential draw-back. Most people simply overlooked it or minded their distance, but the occasional nosy individual would start asking questions. "Nope," Snow-White curtly rolled off in a monotone voice, hoping that would discourage the waitress from further prying. This failed once her belly grumbled and sounded that very human sign of hunger. "Oh, woulda' thought considering you have the appetite of a warrior," she teased in response to the embarrassing grumble. She even went so far to playfully poke Snow-white's toned belly. This unwelcome display of playfulness was met by a sinister glare from Snow-white which signaled for the waitress to back off. A lower, less audible grumble sounded, but was equally embarrassing. "Milk," Snow-white demanded. "Gotcha hun," the waitress waddled off with swishing hips to retrieve a glass of milk for Snow-white. Once she returned with the glass, Snow-white waited for the waitress to dismiss herself before downing the entire glass rather quickly. She was rather hungry, but did not want to keep eating and eating, so she decided to try and give herself a bit of a bloat to fill herself up. This was a little trick she learned from long, isolated, deployments - she would typically try to down something filling so she did not have to spend so much time being hungry. To her dismay, and surprise, her guzzling of the milk was akin to dumping it into a bottomless barrel. No excess pressure built up in her belly, but a peculiar coolness assured her that the was in-fact resting inside her stomach. She glared over in the direction of the waitress who was behind the counter humming a happy tune as she cleaned up. Something just felt – off? No-one had entered the diner for however long she had been in here and the town seemed to be quite dead—not a single car strolling by on the nearby road. Whatever, she was hungry and had one and a half pastries to finish. She piled the cream from the bowl onto the untouched pastry and planted the half-pastry onto it making a sandwich. In just a few chomps, the fattening treat was soundly inside her. Even this display of indulgence did little to ward off the empty feeling in her gut. Truthfully, she wanted to gorge some more, but a cruel reminder of what happens to those Thanatonian women who lose their ability to operate effectively. The latent thought was enough to cause her to immediately place far too much cash on the counter and leave the diner. “Seeya soon sugar!” The ginger-waitress cooed as Snow-white made her departure. Once outside, it was as if a miasma of some sort had been lifted. The lonely town seemed a little less lonely. A few cars were driving about and the parking lot she exited into was, well, packed. This set off a sudden alarm of danger within her being. She slowly turned around to find that the diner was packed with people. Instinctively, she lowered her hand down to her belly and felt the slight taut bump through her somewhat baggy black hoodie. She could only feel that she was full via touch, but internally she was still as empty feeling as ever. A wave of alarm came over her and suddenly mission directives that she had forgotten came back to her: I walked into a trap… That was the only thing she thought before retrieving her cellphone to report in with her handler. To her shock, Queen had called Snow-White a total of eight times and left a singular text reading: Rose The universal Thanatonian distress signal. Snow-White knew, despite the calm lonely little surrounding town, that her situation was grave.

((I hope I'm not too late to the fantasy party! I've been mulling over this sort of story for a while--both a fantasy and a male-centric weight gain story--and I finally decided to get in on it. I know that this might not be the best place for a BHM story, but I hope that you all enjoy it. Do let me know what you think, as I'd like to do more stories in this universe!)) THE WIDENING WARRIOR AND THE ALCHEMIST It was a cool autumn day in the kingdom of Tantris, where the trees grow strong and tall, the rains are never fierce, and a song can always be heard in the wind. The crisp air and fallen leaves made travel a delight along most any road, but especially the Queen’s Road, which was a scenic route that led to the royal castle. Travelers of all kinds made their way up and down the road: merchants peddling their wares, wanderers trekking across the land, and adventurers in search of their next quest, among countless others. One of the latter was making his way down the long road with a sword on his back, modest clothes, and little else. Wade Leguerrier was an impressive young man who stood out in most any crowd, be it his height, fantastical hair, or his slab of iron that he called a sword. He stood as tall as a Solstice tree; so long was he that they had not made the bed that could fit him. His head was covered with a thick mat of sapphire locks that were as spiky as a rosebush. The beastly longsword on his back was so tall that the hilt reached above his head and came within a hair’s breadth of grazing the ground as he walked; by the same token, it was so broad that it could be used as a proper shield. Naturally, carrying around such a monstrosity required great strength, which Wade was thankfully blessed with in spades. His sleeveless tunic left his powerful arms, lean and muscular, for all the world to see. If one were to catch him without his shirt, they would have found a body that looked to be chiseled by a master sculptor; there was nary a trace of fat anywhere on him. His legs were much the same, resembling those of an athlete than your average adventurer. The only things that marred his physical perfection were the scars across his body, including one ran down his face from his right temple to the bottom of his left cheek. He was what people imagined a warrior of old to be, yet he had barely seen twenty-one summers and had only recently begun his adventures. As the young fighter walked along happily munching on an apple, he heard what sounded like a scuffle just around the bend. Tossing his apple to the woods, he ran towards the commotion and came upon a not uncommon scene on the Queen’s Road: bandits assailing a merchant and no sign of a sheriff to stop them. Wade sighed as he strode up to the scene, his hand on the hilt of his sword, a fire in his eyes, and a growl at his lips. “Excuse me, but something tells me that’s not your cart,” the warrior called out to the bandits. “Care to tell me why you’re ripping it apart then?” “Mind your business, stranger; this don’t concern you,” growled one of the brigands, a jagged dirk in his gloved hand. As he walked closer despite more of the goons turning to him with weapons drawn, Wade counted five men thereabout. He retorted, “I swore my oath to defend the innocent wheresoever I go; so yes, this does concern me.” When the last of the crooks turned from the cart to face him, a small head popped up from behind the damaged wagon. It looked to be a goblin girl with skin as green as a mint leaf, hair the color of cherry blossoms, and freckles dotting her face like stars on a night sky. The girl stared wide-eyed and fearful, and that strengthened the fighter’s resolve even more. He slowly pulled his sword free, the sight of which made a couple of the bandits back away in fear. Their leader, a ruffian with wiry hair and a thick face, grunted, “Stand your ground, cowards. It’s all for show; I bet that thing is as useful as a shield of leaves. Brokko, take him.” Brokko, a burly brute that looked more like a monkey than a man, ran forward with a hefty hatchet in hand. Before he could get anywhere close to striking distance, Wade swung his sword out and caught the bandit in the ribs. The blade was wedged in Brokko’s body for a moment until the sheer weight of the sword sent him flying into a tree. The display made the weakest of the brigands quiver in his boots, but the boss would not be deterred. “Ratcher, Pronk, get the bastard!” he shouted as two more goons raced ahead. The putrid pair were handled with ease by the warrior, who seemed almost bored by their attempt on his life. When they drew their weapons back, he brought the blade up to parry them; striking such a weapon sent a shock through their arm as though they had hit a rock. In the blink of an eye, Wade brought the blade down across both their bodies, which almost cut Pronk clean in two and left Ratcher with his guts spilling out on the ground. That was too much for the leader, who only grew more rageful as his men were cut down like saplings. He pointed his dirk at Wade and roared, “You might have killed those worthless maggots, but Ernst will be the death of you!” Unfortunately, Ernst’s attack was as successful as his lackies’, which was to say not at all. Wade waited until he was just in range before he brought the sword down on the bandit’s head, not only driving the blade through his skull but also crushing him like a piece of paper. The crook crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, and yet his assailant had not even broken a sweat. It was the final straw for the last sniveling coward, and he took off in a sprint down the road. He did not get far before a bottle full of a red liquid shattered against him and exploded in a brilliant flame. “That’ll learn ya, sons of whores!” the goblin girl jeered as she walked out from behind her cart and over towards her savior. She was a tiny thing, like most goblins, and she came up to about the middle of Wade’s thigh. Around her petite body was a gray apron, behind which the boy could see a top that left most of her abdomen exposed and black pants that accentuated her curvy hips and legs. When she got close to Wade, she extended her hand in gratitude as she said, “Much obliged, stranger! My cart got caught in a pothole, and those dastards decided to jump me while they had the chance. Lucky they couldn’t break in; I’m carrying around a small fortune in potions and elixirs!” “Lucky indeed,” the warrior chuckled before glancing at the cart. “How much does it weigh?” “I would need all twenty of my brothers and sisters to move it,” the goblin sighed before glancing over to Wade. “You might be able to swing that blade like it was a rag, but you’re not going to be able to lift that thing on your own.” The muscular man smirked down at the merchant before sauntering over to the cart and crouching beside it. He took a deep breath, gripped the side, and then hoisted it free of the hole it was lodged in as though it weighed no more than a brick. The cart righted itself again and Wade inspected it to make sure there was no great damage from the bandits. “Looks like you’re good to go!” he exclaimed as the goblin girl ran over with a gob-smacked look on her freckled face. She gestured back and forth between the cart and Wade, stunned that this beansprout of a man was able to lift something so heavy, which earned a good-hearted chuckle from the warrior. “I’m stronger than I look.” “Boy, you are just full of surprises,” she giggled as she walked back around the cart. “I thought I was done for, and then here you come with a chunk of iron on your back and muscles for days. You need something for your troubles, and I won’t take no for an answer.” The warrior shook his head and waved his hand. “That’s mighty generous of you, but I can’t—” “Not taking no for an answer!” she butted in as she dug around in her cart. “I don’t have much in the way of spare gold, but I think I’ve got just the thing for a big’un like yourself. Aha!” When she popped back out, the goblin had a vial of green liquid in her hand. She passed it along to Wade and explained, “That there is a strength elixir I’m cooking up; you get to have the first taste!” “Not that I don’t doubt your talent, but is it safe?” the fighter asked as he swished the elixir around. “Safe as can be!” the merchant exclaimed as she puffed her chest up with pride. “That right there gets the Audra Dranghy Seal of Approval!” The blue haired boy laughed and retorted, “All right then. Let’s see if it meets the Wade Leguerrier Seal of Approval.” With that, he popped the cork off and tilted the vial to his lips. His eyes lit up as he downed the verdant drink in two gulps, and he pulled it away with a gasp of surprise. Wade remarked, “Well, I’ll be damned. It might look like swamp water, but it tastes like an apple tart…with cinnamon, no less! That’s a mighty fine concoction, Audra.” The green girl beamed like sunshine as she took the empty beaker back. “Much obliged! I’m hoping to make this a regular feature in my wares; there are lots of people that’d pay top dollar to feel stronger.” “I should say so,” the fighter remarked. Just then, he heard his stomach gurgle and he put a hand to his abs. He felt like he had not eaten in a week, and to make matter worse, he had not a crumb on him. Audra must have sensed this, as she returned to her cart and came back with a loaf of bread and a couple pieces of fruit. As soon as she offered them up, the warrior eagerly took them and tore off a third of the loaf with his teeth. “Gods, I’m sorry,” he muttered to the alchemist, “I don’t know what’s come over me, but I feel hungrier than I’ve ever been my entire life!” Audra waved off the apology. “S’okay; I would be surprised if you weren’t. It’s a common side effect of booster potions; your body needs more nutrients to go along with the new muscles you’re building. If you need more, I’ve got plenty of food where that came from.” Wade shook his head. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly. I don’t want to eat up your stocks.” “Honestly, you’d be doing me a favor! Goblins only need a little bit of food every day, like how I had a few berries for breakfast. I always tend to get too much, and it all goes to waste, so you’d be helping me a ton. Think of it as another form of payment for saving my bacon,” the petite girl explained. It all sounded good to the starving warrior, who quickly devoured the bread and apples like some voracious beast. After spitting out the last of the apple seeds, Wade grinned and said, “All right then. I just hope you’ve got enough; I feel like I could eat a wyvern! I haven’t been this hungry since I fasted for training.” “Afraid I’m fresh out of wyverns,” Audra snickered as she went back to her cart for more food. She returned with another loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, and some milk to wash it all down with. Again, Wade all but ripped them from her hands and stuffed his mouth as full as he could, which was not that far off from his usual table manners. In between bites, he asked the goblin, “Where are you heading?” “I’ll be stopping in Riverton to restock, and then I’ll be heading to Moonfall; that’s where I get some of my biggest sales every year,” she answered, “What about you? Looking for a tourney? Mercenary work? Off to save a damsel?” Wade took a long draught of milk before he told Audra, “Questing. I was going to stop in Riverton for the night and then make my way to Moonfall in search of some information.” “An adventurer! How exciting,” the goblin cooed in delight as she clapped her hands together. “Y’know, I always wanted to go on an adventure; were it not for my life’s work here, I would run off in a heartbeat.” “Tell you what: if you’ll have me, I can accompany you to Moonfall; it’ll be like an abbreviated adventure,” the warrior suggested with a smile. Audra giggled and stuck out her hand. “It’d be a pleasure. If nothing else, you can be my guard in case any other bandits get the bright idea to attack us.” “Then I guess we’re a party,” Wade chuckled as he shook the girl’s tiny hand in his own massive mitt after switching the food to one hand. “We should probably start up again; we’ll want to make Riverton before sundown.” “Agreed,” the alchemist said with a nod. She trotted around to the front of the cart, lifted the handle bar from the ground, and pulled the bulky bundle along with some effort. No wonder why: the whole cart was bigger than she was and weighed more than five or six of her. Before she could go much further, Wade stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Let me,” he offered as he took the handle from her and proceeded to pull the cart along as though it weighed as little as a feather. As he walked along, he finished the last of the cheese before stifling a belch; hungry as he was, he had eaten a touch too fast for his stomach. Audra trotted along happily now that she did not have to worry about pulling her cart along for a few days. It was serendipitous that the warrior should come along to help her, and such a strong one at that; she had never seen anyone so slim and strong before. Now she was traveling on this warrior’s quest, albeit for the three weeks it would take to travel to Moonfall. Regardless of how brief it was, the alchemist was tickled pink by the idea that she was an adventurer and not some miserable merchant. She would have to thank him the only way she knew how: free potions and food until they got to their destination; perhaps even beyond Moonfall, if she played her cards right. *** They managed to reach the bustling village of Riverton a little before sundown, when folks were making their way home and businesses were closing for the day. Audra, much more versed in traveling, directed Wade to an inn that she frequented every time she came to town. The softest beds for miles, she had said. After the day he had, Wade would put that to the test; he felt like he would fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Before he could think about sleep though, the goblin girl suggested they have dinner, as the innkeeper’s wife made the best dishes. The warrior was still feeling bloated from the big lunch earlier, but his stomach was growling like a hungry dog and demanding more sustenance. Thankfully, they were just in time for that night’s dinner: a simmering bowl of corn chowder with salted bread to accompany it. Wade tried to limit his eating but could not help asking for seconds and even thirds, which earned him a playful chide from the innkeeper. “I do believe you’ve had enough, young man; we must leave some for the other guests, ay?” asked the matronly woman. She collected his bowl and winked while she told him, “Besides, you’ll want to save your appetite for tomorrow morning; I’ll be making my world-famous creamy egg pie. And if you’re up early enough, I might be able to slide you a few extra slices.” The warrior cracked a grin as he remarked, “If it’s as good as the chowder, I would appreciate that very much.” By the time he got to his room, Wade was so drowsy that as soon as his bed was within reach, he collapsed onto it without a second thought. Audra shook her head and chuckled at the display from her traveling companion before taking off his boots and sliding the lanky wanderer onto the mattress proper. While the blue haired boy snoozed, the petite alchemist went down to her cart in the stables to work on some potions for the following day. One could never be sure when they would meet a customer on the Queen’s Road, after all, and she wanted to have a little something for her savior when he woke up again. “I think he’ll like this lots and lots,” Audra remarked with a smile as she swished a familiar green liquid around. “Strapping fellow like himself would probably appreciate a good boost of strength, especially if he’s so keen on questing.” After getting back to her bed in the wee hours of the morning, the goblin girl awoke and found that Wade was gone. A quick glance at a pocket watch showed that it was time for breakfast, and if his appetite was as strong as yesterday, that was where he would be. When Audra made her way down to the first floor, she found her companion scarfing down more food than she could eat in a month. The innkeeper fixed him what looked to be a third plate of egg pie accompanied with other fixings, least of all thick ribbons of bacon. “Land’s sake, boy, you’re liable to gag if you don’t slow down,” the matron chuckled as she set the plate down before Wade. “Oh, don’t worry; I don’t intend to die from breakfast,” the warrior smirked as he stuck an entire strip of bacon down his gullet. “Wouldn’t be fitting for a graduate of St. Duncan’s Academy.” As Audra joined her bodyguard at the table, she asked, “You went to the academy?” Wade nodded and swallowed a large mouthful before answering, “Sure did! Just finished this past month, actually; graduated with top marks in combat.” “I can see how,” the alchemist giggled as she nibbled on a slice of bread. She would have attempted more conversation, but her warrior friend seemed so invested in his meal that she did not want to bother him. More than that, she just enjoyed watching a man with an appetite; none of the boys back home could eat like that, even with an appetite enhancing enchantment. To see a fellow like Wade tucking into a meal like it was a fight to the finish made her feel warm and fuzzy inside and instilled a desire to learn how to cook. When the warrior had finally finished his breakfast, he patted his stomach as he leaned back in his chair. He grinned appreciatively at the innkeeper and told her, “My own mother couldn’t have made better food than that. My compliments to the chef! “And to you, chum,” the warrior said to Audra. He lifted an arm and gave a quick flex to show that his muscles had swollen up a good bit from yesterday. “That elixir you fixed up for me yesterday worked wonders! It would take me months to get much bulkier, but you managed to do it in a day.” “I knew you’d like it! The results speak for themselves, don’t they?” asked the goblin girl with a smile. She reached out over the table to give Wade’s bicep a squeeze, only to find that it was almost hard as a rock. “Boy, and I thought you were chiseled before.” At the flirty remark, her bodyguard blushed and stopped flexing, though his muscles still stayed prominent. He mumbled, “I, ah…I just remembered that I offered to help the innkeeper with a chore as payment for so much food. I’ll be back in just a minute.” When Wade rose from his chair, Audra noticed that his arms were not the only things that had gotten bigger, though not in a muscular sense. His tunic stretched over a dome of a gut that jutted from his middle like a woman in the middle of her pregnancy; the bump bounced as he walked, as though he had stuffed a ball underneath his shirt. Down below his belt, which the goblin noted was loosened a notch or two, thickened thighs filled out his pants and a rounded rump bobbled as the warrior made his way to the kitchen. “Seems there’s a side effect I overlooked,” the alchemist whispered as she made mental notes for the next batch of elixir. *** If Wade noticed his gain, he did not say anything about it, though Audra caught glimpses of him as they traveled down the Queen’s Road. His new weight did nothing to impact pulling the potion cart; if anything, it only made things easier. Before they left town, Audra had been sure to stock up on more food for their trip, knowing full well how hungry the warrior was going to be every time he drank another elixir. Again, he asked no questions about getting any extra supplies, opting instead to lick his chops at the selection of food the alchemist purchased. When they stopped for lunch, the celadon girl offered up a new bottle of strength elixir to her bodyguard, who eyed it with careful curiosity. Wade swished the elixir around and asked, “Is it safe to take another one after yesterday? I’d swear there was some rule about not taking permanent boosts daily.” “Yeah, there is—live a little,” the goblin answered with a smirk. “Or are you seriously telling me you’re going to pass on enough strength to crush boulders with your bare hands?” “All right, I’ll have more,” the warrior replied, “but don’t think I don’t know what’s going on.” Audra’s nerves kicked in and her heart skipped a beat. “Wh-What do you mean?” “I’ve known some alchemists in my time at the academy, and they’re all the same. Everyone’s a guinea pig,” Wade explained, though the grin on his face made the answer feel more jovial than cynical. He quaffed the elixir down and lapped his lips for any extra drops; it truly was one of the tastier concoctions he had ever imbibed. “Still, if you keep this recipe, I might just be your permanent guinea pig if it means getting more.” A wave of relief washed over the potion maker as she settled back in her seat with a confident smirk that belied her anxious nerves. “Then I hope you’re ready, because I want to make sure that elixir is perfect by the time I get to Moonfall.” Wade’s stomach growled in response. The young warrior blushed and patted the soft swell of his gut before saying, “Only if you’ve got enough food to last us the whole trip.” Audra knew she had more than enough to sustain Wade throughout their journey, even if his appetite and capacity escalated with each new elixir. It was a good thing she did, as every time he drank the strength-enhancing potion, the warrior grew as ravenous as a swarm of locusts. He devoured food like there was no tomorrow; it did not matter if it was cooked in a meal or not. Starting each day with a new elixir left him starving throughout the entire day, which meant that he was almost constantly eating from morning till night. As expected, the effects were obvious with each passing day. Wade’s arms were more muscular than they had ever been by the third day of their travels, and they only grew more so as the days passed. His bicep alone was as big as a grapefruit when he flexed, which gave him the appearance of a seasoned veteran rather than a greenhorn. Those were the only parts of his body that were muscular though; everything else was coated in an ever-growing layer of blubber. The blue haired boy’s face took on a rounder look as a second chin slowly swaddled around his neck, his thighs filled up like kegs of beer, and his backside resembled a pair of bowling balls crammed down his trousers. Most impressive of all was his belly, which was fast becoming a mountain of pudge. It hardly sloshed around when Wade walked, hinting at the strong abdomen underneath, and jutted out like a pregnant woman’s stomach. It grew rounder and more prominent with each passing day, to the point that five days into their trek, the rookie warrior had a beer belly to rival the best drunkards. Despite all these changes, Wade never noticed how much beefier and lardier he had become; his focus was solely on his immense strength. “Audra! Audra, watch this!” he called out one evening while gathering firewood. The alchemist glanced up from her cart, where she was preparing another elixir, and watched as Wade waddled over to a towering tree. He tossed his sword into the air with all the ease of throwing a twig, caught it single-handedly, and slammed the blade into the trunk. Audra expected it to wedge into the tree, but much to her shock and awe, the sword went straight through in one clean chop. As it came tumbling down, Wade raised his thick arms and jumped in victory, though he got little air in doing so. “Did you see that?” he asked excitedly. “It used to take four swings, but that was one fell swoop! I took that tree down in one blow!” “Yes, you certainly did,” Audra mumbled, distracted as she was by how Wade’s tunic had risen to reveal a great swath of doughy blubber. “By the time we get to Moonfall, you might just be able to break boulders with your bare hands.” “You think so? That would be swell,” Wade remarked as he wiped the sweat from his brow, which caused a few threads to pop under his arm. “I had a friend back at St. Duncan’s who could do that, but he was a monk; I’ll never understand how they can break rocks and punch through armor when they’re thinner than a broomstick.” Audra hummed in agreement, though her mind was far from the conversation. It was far more fun to watch Wade’s thick backside wobble about in his trousers, bouncing about from side to side and threatening to destroy the seam across the seat with every movement. She could never have anticipated that he would plump up the way he had, but she was not about to argue with the results, even if he was eating his way through their supplies with abandon. Most curious of all was how the widening warrior had failed to register his growth, even as his newfound curves tested his clothes at every turn. If he kept expanding, he would be waddling into Moonfall in rags, which made the pint-sized alchemist turn a fine gray—a goblin’s blush. As Wade took the tree apart bit by bit, he glanced over his shoulder at his companion while she worked on her potions and wondered how he had gotten so lucky. His first time out on the road and he stumbled into the company of an alchemist that was not only incredibly talented but cute as a button and clever as a fox. In his time at the academy, Wade had more than his share of ladies from every walk of life, as was befitting of an accomplished athlete like himself, but he had never been with a girl that enticed him quite like Audra did. For one so bookish, she had the tight body that many a maiden would kill for: a lean stomach as flat as a board, modest breasts that were no bigger than apples, and a curvy backside that filled out her pants just right. She was also not afraid to flaunt her figure, regularly walking around with her abdomen exposed, her jade skin drinking in the sun like hungry ivy. All this would have attracted his gaze, but he was also fascinated with how well-versed she was in so many subjects, from the myriad elements that went into her elixirs to the fauna they passed on their way to Moonfall. Wade would be the first to admit that he was not a knowledgeable man and hated studying in school, but Audra somehow found a way to make learning fun. All of which was to say that he thought himself blessed to be traveling with her, and he hoped that when they reached their destination, she might allow him to accompany her a while longer. It would be a shame to part with her so soon, especially when they were just starting to really get to know each other. He just hoped that she did not mind his newfound appetite: as much as he wanted to believe the old saying that the best way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, he did not want to come off like a pig. It was bad enough that he was already a lug that could never keep up whenever she got into the finer parts of alchemy; he would hate for her to think he was some sort of slob. The warrior was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of threads popping in his shirt. He glanced down at his side and saw how the seam was coming undone, creating a gap that allowed a dollop of tanned pudge to peek out. Curious, he disregarded the glob of flab that poked through and circled the damaged seam with his finger tip, gauging how bad it truly was. It was the third such sign of wear and tear on his tunic in the last week, which could only lead to one conclusion. “I must be wearing out this old rag,” Wade decided, oblivious to the real cause for his failing wardrobe. “I’ve had these for a few years now, so it might be time to put them out to pasture. When we get to Moonfall, I’ll have to see about visiting a tailor; I’m sure the last thing Audra wants to see is me wandering around in rags.” *** As the second week on the road passed, it became impossible for even Wade to remain oblivious to his gains. His fears were coming to pass, as his traveling clothes broke apart and covered less of his body with each passing day. Not only did his tunic no longer cover his entire stomach, but it had torn so many seams up both sides that it had become a poncho of sorts. Likewise, his trousers were popping along his thighs like sausage casings, allowing little dollops of blubber to peek out. The warrior was grateful that he had not split the seat of his pants yet, but he knew that it was only a matter of time. “Say, Audra, can I ask you something?” Wade hummed to his companion one night. “Dinner will be ready in just a little bit, I promise,” the alchemist assured her hefty friend while she tended to a ** of stew. “Want another loaf of bread while you wait?” “Yes—I mean, no,” the warrior corrected himself. “I wanted to ask you something…something that’s been bothering me that last few days. Do you think I’m getting fat?” The question nearly made Audra drop her ladle in the cauldron and she glanced back at Wade, who sat on the trunk of a tree he had cut down. Was he getting fat? No, he was already fat and only getting fatter. He was a far cry from the lean, ropy young man she had met not a fortnight prior; he was not even the thick, bulky warrior from the week before. The man before her was fat enough that he would fit in perfectly at a circus sideshow, not traveling the roads as a wandering adventurer. Wade’s handsome face was swaddled in so much fat that he had lost any semblance of a neck and had cheeks that seemed permanently stuffed. A fine layer of pudge accumulated across his broad shoulders and down his arms, filling them with so much flab that even his increasingly powerful biceps found it hard to make themselves known. Even his hands seemed to be fatter, for his palms were pliable like a meat patty and his fingers thick like sausages. Once, the warrior used to bounce his pecs around as a party trick to entice women back to his room. His chest could still bounce, yes, but not under his control; the flabby breasts wobbled about like gelatin with every awkward step he took, whether he liked it or not. They were becoming generous handfuls that reminded him of a satyr he had after a jousting tournament the previous spring, though her breasts were far perkier while his just sloped down his chest like melted ice cream. Though they remained covered by his tunic, they were abundantly clear through the overtaxed fabric. They sat atop a belly that defied belief, especially when one considered that Wade had clearly defined abs not two weeks prior. It had started like a drunkard’s gut—round as a balloon and jutting out from his waist as though he had stuffed a pillow up his shirt. As the days ticked by and his stomach gained more heft, the great mound of blubber began to droop down and slap against the top of his thighs and filled a third of his lap when he sat down. It continued to creep outward and obscure more of the ground before him, but for the last few days, his new pounds settled above his hips. Flabby flanks filled out underneath his tunic and aided in the shirt’s demise, and fluffy rolls bunched up along his back. He was not spared below the belt either, as his legs had thickened to the size of juicy ham hocks over the last several days. His thighs brushed against each other more each day, and Wade noted with some embarrassment that his manhood was being encroached on by the rising tide of flab. While his hips had remained fairly narrow, his backside had expanded into full globes of bubbly pudge, so much so that even one of his cheeks would overfill both his hands. Any bigger, and Audra could have used it as a shelf for her potions. Not that the goblin mentioned any of this to her bulging bodyguard. She actually found the words catching in her throat as she drank in how perfectly plump and rolly-poly he had become. Wade shifted about under her gaze and told Audra, “Um…you’re drooling.” “Wh—oh! Sorry,” the alchemist apologized as she wiped the little dribble from her cheek. “Must be this stew! You want three bowls or four?” “Four—wait, three—no, I mean…guh,” Wade grunted in frustration. “I can’t keep eating like I have! I swear, it feels like I’m ten pounds bigger after every meal. If I keep this up, I’m going to get too fat to swing a sword, much less go questing!” Audra bit her lip to stifle the pleasurable hum bubbling up inside her. The thought of her wide, wobbly warrior waddling through the woods, fat legs rolling about in a vain attempt at anything faster than a slothful plod, tickled her fancy something fierce. Not that she would dare admit it, especially when he was so concerned about his weight at the moment. She would assuage his fears, downplay the gain, and get his mind off the topic, same as she had done for the last several days. After all, why stop when they had such a good thing going? “Oh, pish, you’re not getting fat,” Audra assured Wade as she sauntered over to her seated companion. “Haven’t you ever heard of bulking? Don’t they teach that at the academy?” A pink blush crept into Wade’s cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck as he replied, “Not really, no. What’s ‘bulking’?” “It’s something gladiators and berserkers do to get as big as they are! You eat a lot, put on a couple pounds, and then work it all down to rock hard muscle,” Audra explained, leaving out more than a few key details in the plan. Despite the glaring holes in her description, it made some sense to Wade. After all, he had seen some pretty beefy gladiators in his time; in fact, he had heard tale of wrestlers from the Far East who were like walking boulders. He had also been getting impossibly strong over the last several days, growing far quicker than he had at the academy, so it stood to reason that he would bulk up a lot faster as well. More than anything, he trusted Audra—after all, she was the brains of their partnership. “Well, if you say so,” Wade finally conceded. A grin sprouted on his chubby face as he flexed his right arm and told Audra, “And you may be right—give that bicep a squeeze and tell me it’s not the biggest you’ve ever seen.” The goblin girl happily obliged and put both of her tiny hands around Wade’s beefy arm. Her first delight was in knowing that his arm was so big around that her fingers could not even hope to touch each other. The second and far greater was the realization that while there was certainly a powerful bicep in there, it was blanketed under a thick quilt of pillowy flab. “Boy, if I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you were an ogre,” Audra giggled as she let go of Wade’s soft arm. “And just imagine how much bigger it’s going to be when you burn off the few extra pounds you’ve gained!” “I know! I could carry a mountain on my back at that point,” the warrior boasted. A warm smile crossed his face as he added in a humbler tone, “Thanks, Audra. I feel a lot better.” The alchemist wiggled her ears and grinned from ear to ear at the gargantuan galoot. She chirped, “Hey, that’s what a party does, right? If you ever need to talk about anything, you just let me know, okay? It’s the least I can do for you.” They lingered on that for a moment, a smile shared between them while supper stewed behind Audra. The warm silence was broken when Wade’s belly gurgled like an angry beast, despite the fact that he had just eaten not long before Audra threw together the soup. The petite goblin blushed at the noise but tittered, “Will you be wanting that bread after all?” “You know what? I think so,” Wade chuckled before patting his globular gut. “And better make it four—no, five bowls tonight. After all, the more I bulk, the stronger I’ll get in the end!” After serving up dinner for her hefty companion, Audra sat back and watched as Wade voraciously gobbled up bowl after bowl of stew. It was a good thing that she did not need to eat much, because at the rate he was going, there was going to be nothing left for her by the end. To watch how Wade guzzled down his meal, one would never have guessed he had weight woes not a few minutes prior. And while there was some small part of Audra that felt guilty for lying to such a kind, naïve soul, there was a far greater part of her that relished in seeing a few new inches of flab on the warrior with each passing day. “I can always make a slimming potion if he really starts to worry,” the scheming alchemist assured herself as Wade’s stomach slowly rounded out with food. “After all, he’ll realize he’s getting too big eventually, right?” *** As the days went by and Wade continued quaffing Audra’s strength-enhancing potions, it became quite clear that he truly did not know how big he was getting. It was a good thing that she had stocked up on more food than usual back in Riverton, since each new elixir increased her companion’s appetite a little more. The extra rations also came in handy when it became clear that it would take a little longer than normal to reach Moonfall. Not because of weather or taking a detour, but rather, Wade’s ever-increasing girth proved to be the biggest roadblock. The warrior was strong enough that he could chew through metal—something he discovered when he ate a little too fast one evening and wolfed down his fork—but his stamina had fallen to record lows. He needed to take frequent stops during the day, fell asleep early and woke up late, and moved at such a glacial pace that even a turtle could make better time than him. Of course, Wade never chalked it up to the increasingly obvious reason and continued on as though he had only put on a few pounds and not several hundred. It was almost a month since the duo left Riverton before they finally neared Moonfall. Audra wagered they had another day of travel before they reached the city proper, and while she was normally excited to visit the bustling town, the alchemist found herself a little melancholic. She was liable to do great business, but it also meant that she was likely to part ways with Wade, which felt more painful than she had imagined. Had they really gotten so close in their time together that she would actually miss the big lummox when their little party of two broke up? It was certainly nice to have company on the road for a change and watching him expand like rising bread had been nothing short of scintillating, but those could not be the only reasons. No, what made this different was that Wade was not just anyone: he listened intently to her scientific babbling even though she knew he did not understand half of it, always offered a helping hand despite his diminishing flexibility, and always put a smile on her face with his stories about life in the academy. Wade Leguerrier might have been a lummox, but he was the sweetest lummox she had ever known. “Hey, Audra…could you slow down a bit?” that same lummox panted. The spritely alchemist turned back and realized that, distracted by her thoughts as she was, she had outpaced Wade by a good margin. That was another change that took some getting used to, for Audra had gotten so used to keeping in stride with the warrior back when he was a beanpole of a man. The fact that he was pulling her cart meant nothing; even before he started drinking her potions, the cart presented no challenge to him. While the cart was lighter than air now, thanks to his newfound strength, he was weighed down by the sheer bulk of his body. In the span of a month on the road, Wade had gone from having zero fat on his body to having nothing but fat on him. He was covered in blubber from head to toe; if there was a place where fat could accumulate, it made its way there. Were it not for his distinctive scars and sapphire hair, no one would have been able to recognize him. His cheeks were so round and soft that his eyes were forced into a squint, his nose seemed smaller and flatter for it, and even his lips were squished into a permanent pucker. The ring of fat around his neck had gained so much girth that it split into two thick collars that rippled like water whenever he ate. Firm, shapely shoulders were blanketed under a fine quilt of pudge that hid any trace of definition Wade once had. His arms had taken on the shape of flour sacks and the consistency of mashed potatoes, completely obscuring the muscles underneath. The flab overflowed his elbows and encroached on his forearms, which were now as big around as his thighs used to be. All that pudge trailed down to hands that were fast becoming useless, as his palms and fingers were too thick to grip anything tightly—just holding the handle of the cart was a challenge. His chest continued to expand out and downwards as it formed a ring around his body from front to back. The fat mounds flapped and wobbled beneath his tunic, rippling like water with every ponderous step he took. The cascade of flab continued down his body to what had once been abs that made the damsels swoon, now nothing more than a pile of pudge that hung almost to his knees and stuck out so far that Wade needed to keep an eye on the road ahead to make sure nothing would cross his path. Thick rolls had sprouted all along his middle, and they were so plentiful and deep that, when Audra gauged them while Wade slept, she could make an entire pen disappear inside them. All of this would have been bad enough, but Wade’s lower body had reached elephantine proportions to match his tremendous upper half. His thighs were even wider than his waist used to be—not just when he started his journey, but after his first few doses of Audra’s potion. The pillars of lard were thick as tree trunks, rubbed together clear past his overloaded knees, and forced him to waddle by rolling one leg around the other. They led into feet that were overgrowing his shoes, and not because they were getting longer; they were so packed full of fat that people might have thought he was wearing something even if he was barefoot. “Sorry about that, big guy,” Audra apologized as she trotted back to Wade’s side. “My head was just in the clouds.” “It’s all right,” the flabby fighter huffed in between gulps of air. “Like you said the other day, all this bulking is good for strength, not speed.” That was another little fib that the alchemist had fed her widening warrior friend—one of many she used whenever he seemed to catch onto his rotund reality. When he needed to stop for breathers and snacks, she reasoned that it was because he was built for quick bursts of energy, not marathons. When his clothes were reduced to tatters, it was simply because they were well-worn. And when he had to change out said tatters for a bed sheet fashioned into a toga? Well, that was all the rage in Acropo, so why not try something new? Audra watched his tomato-red cheeks puff and his blubbery body quiver with each plodding step he took, and a twinge of guilt shot through her tiny body. As much as her desire for Wade grew with each passing day, so too did her guilt for guiding him down this road to extravagant obesity. She had thought he would notice or say something right now and that would be enough to ease her mind, but the warrior carried on without a second thought. The repercussions, whatever they might be, would only get worse the longer she dragged it out, but the goblin girl could not bring herself to say a word. When the pair passed by a mile marker, Wade came to a halt and asked, “Audra, can we stop here for a break? I could use a little bite to keep my strength up.” “Of course,” the alchemist replied as she patted the bulbous boy’s belly. “Go take a seat on that rock, and I’ll make you a sandwich or two.” Wade licked his lips in anticipation and sat down on the boulder by the mile marker. Bulking up had plenty of drawbacks, like tearing his pants in front of Audra or spending extra time bathing to make sure he was completely clean, but it did have its perks. Case in point, he was always comfortable no matter where he sat now, though he reasoned it was because he was so tough now and not that his ass was wider than a loveseat. While Audra had her back to him, the blue-haired boy watched with delight as she bounced on her feet and hummed a melody. His feelings for the viridian girl had deepened over the course of the past month, growing from camaraderie to a blossoming fondness he had never experienced with other girls. Wade would never admit that he was smitten with her, but there was no denying the way his heart skipped when she gave him a toothy grin or playfully jostled him. When she laughed at his dumb jokes or put her chin in her hands to listen to his stories, he felt a swell of joy in his chest that he only got when he trained. With that fondness came lustful desires as well, such as the ones that filled Wade’s head as he studied Audra’s rump sway. Her diminutive stature gave him the perfect view down her top, though he tried not to look if he could, and her thick backside filled her pants just right. The warrior had yet to express these feelings to her, a rarity for one who had laid with so many at St. Duncan’s, and he had to find other ways to vent them. At first, this meant stroking his cock to fantasies before he bathed, but as it became harder for him to reach his manhood, he had taken to stifling his desires with even more food—two birds with one stone, as it were. As their destination drew closer by the day, Wade worried that Audra might decide to part ways with him and venture on by herself or with someone that could actually discuss alchemy with her. The thought of breaking up their party of two made his heart ache like nothing else before, and so he decided that today would be the day. No more beating around the bush—he would ask Audra to accompany him on his adventures! “Would you like extra mustard on your sandwiches, Wade?” asked the alchemist. “Yes, please!” the warrior replied, shaken from his thoughts. “And maybe a little fruit? Oh, and a biscuit or two might be nice…” His question could come later. It was rude to talk while he was eating, after all. *** After three sandwiches, five apples, four pears, and six biscuits, Wade lay back on the rock and patted his belly. It was nowhere near full but it would be enough to carry him for a while longer; at least another two hours or so, by his reckoning. Audra joined him and munched on a couple berries while he ate what used to be a large meal for the warrior. He was amazed that she could get by on so little food throughout the day, and that just a handful of berries could count as a lunch for her. When he tossed the remnants of his last pear away, the flabby fighter decided it was time to ask that question that had been plaguing him for the last few days. He cleared his throat and asked, “Say, Audra…can you believe we’re nearly at Moonfall?” The petite girl glanced down the road and answered, “Honestly, I can’t. It’s been so much fun, I can’t believe it’s been almost a month since we left Riverton.” “And when we get there, you’re going to the shopping district to sell your potions, right?” Wade asked, even though they had discussed their plans several times before. “Sure am,” Audra hummed. “And you’re going to suss out some quests.” “That’s right,” the blue-haired butterball chuckled as he rubbed the back of his next. Why was it so hard to say what he wanted? As if reading his thoughts, his companion glanced up at him with her hazel eyes and asked, “Are you going to travel solo once you find an adventure?” Those eyes made him melt, and Wade fumbled for the words. “Well, I…I’ve thought about it, but that’s not…I don’t know if it would be good to be alone out there.” Audra perked up and sidled closer to his rock as she replied, “Right? Far better to travel with someone than to go it by yourself, I think. You never know when you’ll need someone to have your back, tend to your wounds, or…or make potions.” That last part was nearly inaudible, but the warrior heard it clear as day. A deep blush crossed his chubby cheeks as he dared to imagine that Audra wanted to continue traveling with him. He felt like a novice all over again, giddy over the first pretty girl to smile at him. The thought gave fuel to his courage and strengthened his resolve to ask that one question. “Audra,” Wade began, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as a desert, “would you…would you like to stay in my party?” The alchemist’s eyes sparkled like a fine gem and she let out a gasp that was no louder than a kitten’s yawn, but her response was cut off by a booming laugh from the woods across from them. A band of brigands emerged from the trees with blades in hand and menace in their eyes. Audra ducked behind the boulder and Wade rose to meet them, though it took him a moment to stand up. “Well, ain’t that just cute?” asked a weedy man with hair down to his ribs. “A potbellied orc and a goblin setting off on an adventure!” A ripple ran through Wade’s body when he landed on his feet, but he paid it no mind. He clenched his fat hands into fists as best he could and glared at the approaching bandits, though the effect was dampened by how beady his eyes had become. If the warrior was trying to be threatening, it was undercut by how plush and blubbery he had grown in the preceding weeks. “Don’t know who you’re calling an orc, but you’d better keep walking if you know what’s good for you,” Wade warned the brigands. The plunderers laughed among themselves at the threat, and the long-haired leader waggled his dagger at Wade and Audra. “I’m not too concerned, butterball. There’s six of us and two of you, and neither of you look like much of a threat.” “We’ll see about that,” the wobbly warrior growled. He glanced over his shoulder at his alchemist companion and whispered, “Stay behind me, Audra.” Audra nodded and slid from behind the rock to Wade, whose vast body gave her ample cover, considering that one of his legs was wider around than she was. The pair moved slowly to the cart, where Wade’s massive sword lay waiting, and their eyes never left the brigands. The bandits leered at them like lions watching juicy antelopes and twirled their weapons in their hands in anticipation of what seemed to be an easy kill. For the last few days, Wade had been keeping his sword atop Audra’s cart, as the strap that he used to hold it could no longer fit around his body. Not that it mattered much, since he was now so strong that the sword was almost superfluous; another few days of strength potions and he could probably chop down a tree with a thought. He thought back to a month prior, when he was in the same position of defending Audra from brigands and how easily he had dispatched those louts. Now that he was a thousand times stronger than he had been, this bunch would be like a slight breeze. Once he reached the sword, Wade taunted the thieves, “I might have put on a few pounds recently, but don’t let my looks deceive you—I’m a force to be reckoned with.” “Oh? You gonna kill us with that prop sword of yours, lardon?” the bandit leader jeered. “When will you people ever learn?” Audra chuckled from her hiding spot. Wade gripped the hilt of his sword as best he could and yanked it free from its restraints, only for two very unfortunate events to occur. First, because his bloated hands could not close around the hilt all the way, the blade slipped away from him as soon as it left the cart. Second, because of his ludicrous strength, the sword went flying from his hands and landed clear on the other side of the road. Third and most unfortunate of all, the weapon cleaved through one of the bandits like butter, and his compatriots only noticed when his upper body slid off at the waist and fell to the ground. “Well…that’s unfortunate,” Wade mumbled as the color drained from his cheeks. “He killed Stampcrab! Get the tallowcatch!” the leader barked at his remaining troops. With bellies full of rage and vengeance, the brigands descended on Wade, who pushed Audra behind the cart to keep her safe. The thieves surrounded him on all sides and hacked at him with their jagged blades, but the warrior was so insulated with blubber that he felt little more than a sting with each attack. He tried to wade through the ring of bandits and get his sword, but between their numbers and his ponderous physique, he could not take so much as a single step out of line. “Out of my way!” Wade grunted in his frustration. He swatted at one of the bandits with a meaty hand, and his target’s head was vaporized by the blow. The loss of another assailant would have made it easier to get free, but it also incensed the survivors into striking even harder. Wade waddled forward as best he could, his wine barrel legs forcing themselves onward with all the strength they could muster, but it was not enough. Within a few paces, the brigands had him surrounded again and peppered him with sharp blows all over his flabby frame. Strong and durable though Wade might have been, Audra knew that even he had his limits and would need help soon. She feverishly mixed together a lethal mix of chemicals to keep her warrior friend safe, only to pause when a thought came to her. With how close the bandits were, she could not risk throwing an explosive potion, lest Wade be caught in the blast. What he needed was something to boost his abilities even further—go beyond the limits presented by his lardy physique. All she needed was a little more time for both her and Wade, and her concoctions would be ready. The wobbly warrior had only managed a few paces across the road, still hopelessly far from his sword, when he heard the bandit leader shout, “Tip him like the cow he is!” “Wha?” huffed a perplexed Wade, only to figure out what the thief meant when two others kicked him in the legs and sent him plummeting to the ground. He hit the dirt road with a booming clap, the impact sending ripples coursing through every inch of his body. Wade wriggled about like a slug in an effort to find purchase and get back to his feet, but his body was too ungainly and kept him pinned on his belly. Soon, his efforts were thwarted by the thieves, two of whom held his arms while the leader straddled his back and put a knife to his throat. “You sure gave us a scare there, butterball, but this is the end for you,” the scraggly man sneered as he yanked back on Wade’s hair. “You cost me two mates, so I’m going to try and savor this.” “Wade, close your eyes and take a deep breath!” Audra called out. The warrior had no idea what his companion had in mind, but he was not about to question her. He did as he was told and took a deep gulp of air while squeezing his eyes shut tight, all before he heard the sound of glass shattering beside him. An acrid smell filled the air and he could hear the bandits gagging around him, though the gagging soon turned to screeches of pain. The knife at his throat fell away and he felt his assailants loosen their grip on him as they fell about in pain, but he still kept his eyes closed under Audra’s instructions. In all the confusion, he heard his alchemist friend run up to him and put a beaker to his lips as she whispered, “Hurry and drink this as quick as you can!” Wade did not need to be told twice, especially since the elixir smelled like peaches and cream. He obliged and opened his mouth to swallow the concoction down in a single gulp, and not an instant later, he felt a burning sensation build in his chest. Grunting in confusion, he asked “Wh…what’s this?” “A little energy booster to get you through this,” Audra explained. “Now, open your eyes and get your sword, Wade—you’ve still got a fight to win!” “Yes, ma’am!” Wade growled through gritted teeth. The burning sensation spread throughout his entire body, touching each and every muscle and filling them with a vitality he had not felt in weeks. Wade’s eyes snapped open as he put his hands on the ground and pushed himself to his feet with all the ease of someone three times smaller than him. He spied the bandits lying around, clutching at knife wounds in their legs and sides, and Audra standing off to the side, holding a stiletto out in case any of them should attack. An inky smoke was dissipating about them, but Wade wasted no time in putting two and two together. Though Wade was still burdened with hundreds of pounds of blubber, he raced to his sword like a charging hippo. Neither the burn between his lard-riddled legs nor the constant flopping of his flabby middle could stop the emboldened warrior from reaching his blade. When he finally reached the massive sword, his bulbous belly ballooned in and out like a bullfrog’s throat, but he wasted no time in reaching out for the hilt. A boost in energy could only get him so far though, as there was too much mass to keep this a simple task—no amount of bending could get around his pillowy pudge. “Come on, come on,” Wade grunted as he turned this way and that in an effort to gain purchase on his sword. No matter how he positioned himself, his body refused to cooperate and bunched up with even the slightest bend. Finally, he settled on crouching down to pick up the blade, and it was a good thing that he had ingested the elixir when he did—he might have collapsed out of sheer exhaustion otherwise. The warrior discovered once again that his fat fingers and hands kept him from gripping the hilt properly, but he made do by squeezing it so tight that his fingers embedded themselves into the grip. Once he was armed again, the fattened fighter grinned triumphantly, though his grin turned to a ferocious glower when he saw the bandits going after Audra. “Get away from her!” Wade howled like a mad wolf. Two of the bandits turned towards the charging butterball, only to be cut down like wheat under his sword. Wade would have continued his mad dash, but he came to a screeching halt when the bandit chief snatched Audra up and held a knife to her throat. Though his vision filled with red, he was not prepared to risk Audra’s life by taking another step. “Don’t you come any closer, lardo, or I’ll slice her throat from ear to ear” the wiry man jeered at Wade. “You just toss that sword away, give me whatever loot you’ve got in that cart, and I’ll be on my merry way. Any funny moves and I’ll carve the both of you like a turkey.” Wade let out a snort of anger like a bull, but he could not afford to act recklessly when Audra had a knife to her throat. Despite his immense strength, his sword felt incredibly heavy in that moment, weighed down as it was by the decision he had to make. If he tossed his sword aside again, there was no guaranteeing he could get it back before Audra’s energy booster wore off, much less that the bandit would actually stay true to his word. There was no way he could reach the bandit before he slit her throat though, even if he threw his sword with all his might. He wracked his brain for a strategy but none presented itself, and he cursed himself for sleeping through those courses. Thankfully, he did not have to make the decision. Audra wriggled about in the bandit’s grasp and growled, “Enough with all the bandits!” With that, the alchemist wrenched the brigand’s knife hand away from her neck with all her might and bit into his wrist. He howled in pain and loosened his grip enough for Audra to slip away, which gave Wade the opening he needed. The warrior’s massive sword went careening through the air, went clean through the bandit’s chest, and imbedded itself in a tree behind him. The last thing the bandit saw before death overtook him was Audra’s foot stamping down on his face. “That’ll teach you to bother travelers!” the petite goblin snarled as she stomped again and again, long after the bandit had passed. “You dastard! Cad! Mangy mongrel! I’ve half a mind to revive you, just so I can kill you again!” “Audra, leave him be,” Wade huffed. “He can’t hurt no one anymore—least of all you.” Audra spun around with tears in her eyes before running over to Wade and latching onto his lardy thigh. She blubbered, “I don’t care if he hurt me—he could have killed you, you big galoot, and it would have been my fault!” The butterball bruiser reached down and patted the tiny girl on the head, holding her close as she buried her face in his makeshift toga. Eventually, he scooped her up in his arms, where she nuzzled into his padded bicep like a pillow as he waddled over to the rock by the cart once more. He plopped down on the rock with a grunt, ignoring how it shifted under his bulk, and set Audra down on what was left of his lap. “Hey, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have been able to get back into the fight,” Wade assured the little alchemist as her sobbing diminished to sniffling and hiccups. “That energy potion was just what I needed, and did you see the way I moved? I could pass for a rogue with that kind of speed!” Audra took a deep gulp of air to steady herself before whimpering, “But I wouldn’t have needed to give you that energy potion if my other potions hadn’t made you so…so…” “Bulky?” suggested Wade. When his companion nodded, the warrior replied, “I was thinking about that, actually. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me with those elixirs, Audra, but it might be time for me to cut back. Don’t get me wrong: I love the fact that I could lift the moon, but I’m pretty sure a turtle could beat me in a race now; it wouldn’t even need to be a monster turtle. If I’m going to get strong, it should be the old fashioned way—no shortcuts.” A blush crept into Wade’s cheeks as he added softly, “Plus, I didn’t want to say it, but I think I’ve put on a little too much weight from all this dirty bulking.” Audra was at a loss for words. Just when she was about to come clean to all her little white lies, Wade found his own way to the truth—mostly. She bit her lip as she considered whether she should tell him everything, but she just could not bring herself to it; better to let him think what he wanted to think than to ruin what they had. That, and it was hard to feel guilty when she was seated on legs softer than any cushion and resting her head against Wade’s flabby chest. “Well, maybe things did go a little too far,” the alchemist hummed, the closest she would get to admitting her guilt, “but if you want to slim back down, I can help with that. I know a couple recipes for potions that’ll help shed the pounds, but it’ll also mean cutting your strength back to what it was.” “That won’t be a problem. Don’t forget—I was still plenty strong when we met,” Wade boasted as a grin spread across his chubby cheeks. The two shared a laugh for a moment, with Audra particularly enjoying the feel of Wade jiggling against her. As the laughter died down, the petite alchemist looked into her companion’s eyes and told him, “By the way…my answer is ‘yes’.” “Hm?” Wade hummed in puzzlement. “Yes, I want to be in your party,” Audra explained. “Traveling with you has been the most fun I’ve ever had since I first hit the road, and I don’t want it to end.” She then reached up and tapped his chin, or a roll that could have been his chin, while tittering, “Besides, someone has to make sure that you stick to your diet.” Wade’s blush returned in earnest as he rubbed the back of his neck and replied, “Well, if there’s anyone that can do it, it’ll be you.” He took one of Audra’s tiny hands in his meaty mitt and gave it a gentle squeeze as he told her, “Audra Dranghy, welcome to my party.” “Wade Leguerrier, it’s my pleasure,” the goblin replied with a warm grin and gray cheeks. After they rested up from their fight and Wade collected his sword, they packed up the cart and prepared to ship off. The warrior lifted the handle for the cart and asked, “I reckon we might be able to make it to just outside Moonfall by nightfall, don’t you?” “I think so, just so long as we don’t take any more breaks,” Audra teased. Wade scoffed in reply, but his belly let out a rumbling growl before he could get a word in. He pressed in on the blubbery mass while his companion giggled, “Well, maybe another snack break, but only after another mile or three, okay?” “Deal,” Wade replied, hoping it was the former instead of the latter. THE END

What are you guys looking for in a video. I know it can be hard to find. I seem to struggle hard to find exactly what i want. Now understand if there is a special request i need time to get what ever it may be. But i really what to be able to make videos that favor the people who are weirdly specific like me.

Hey Wonderful Readers, after finishing my first story with the Amazing @Batman76’s ruleset, I’ve decided to move my following posts for my second one to a separate topic as to not clutter the original thread whenever I’m being extra productive! Here’s to the Next Chapter of these ever expanding adventures into ample obesity, to the Eclipse of Alivia! ( Original Thread Here )

Prologue 1 “I must say Imperial, you are a long way from Obe City” the Soldier remarked, binding her wounds “For your skill, I would expect a better placement, and for you to be better fed.” She slid a plate across the floor, the food landing at the Imperial’s feat. “Now, I can’t trust you to not immediately try and kill me if I unbound your mouth and hands, but I do hope you aren’t so foolish” The Soldier unbound the gag and sliced through the rope wrapped around the Imperial’s hands. “I have a name -umfh-” the Imperial said, clearly eating for the first time in a few days. “So do I, Imperial, but you are my prisoner and I am your captor, now, is that really a situation calling for such knowledge?” “You can call me -chmp- Sapi” The Soldier stood for a second, before responding “Teia” “Love-munch-ly” - “Step on to this scale, Imperial” a Guard commanded forcefully, her eyes scanning Sapi up in down “I have-“ “Silence, you are not a guest, you are a prisoner, you will listen to my commands, and follow” “Umpf” Sapi said, her arms bound against her bare back, as she stepped up onto the scale “Height… 5’5, standard scale. Weight… 111, standard scale. Where do you hail from, Imperial” “The Valley of Obe” “Origin… Obe Valley, Race… Kelinci, skin colour… light brown, eye colour… pale red. State your name, Imperial” “Sapi” “Full-name.” Sapi groaned for a moment, before relenting “Sapimasa of Depan” “Sapimasa of Depan…” the Guard repeated “Fitness… considerable, Beauty… Above-Average” Sapi rolled her eyes as the above-average label. Rude. “State your age, Imperial” “20” “Twenty… surprisingly young, for a woman of your abilities, if Teia’s report is to be believed.” “That’s-“ “I did not ask for you to speak, Imperial.” the Guard barked “Now, off the Scale, back against the wall” Sapi shuffled off the scale silently, before the Guard pulled out a canteen from her pocket. “Ears up, Imperial” Sapi’s bunny-like ears cautiously rose from behind her head “Drink this, Imperial” she said, shoving it against Sapi’s chest Sapi stood for a moment, grasping it, before hesitantly drinking it. She immediately felt woozy, stumbling forward as if she was enraptured by a drunken stupor, before falling to the floor. - “Finally awake, little Bunny-girl?” Sapi looked up from the floor, above her stood a scantily dressed woman, about three years her senior by her assessment. Her body was strong, her stomach tight, yet her considerable thighs seemed just the tiniest bit soft. Her arms were adorned with the slightest of muscle, and cast against long blackish-blue hair. Her centerpiece was clear though, her chest framed by a white top, lined with a bold gold. At last Sapi’s eyes drifted up across her tanned face, a sharp chin pointed downwards towards her, the Woman’s lips coloured to match her hair, she met her Golden eyes. “Finally done examining my beauty, Bunny-girl?” the Woman said mockingly Sapi did not respond, her head suddenly aching as she flopped down to the floor, before she felt a hand grasp around her chin, forcing her to look up towards her. “Look at me, right in my eyes” she shouted harshly, before her tone softened “Now, Miss Sapimasa, I hear you prefer to be called Sapi, I have a few names too. The Lady of the Golden Coast, the Warm Beauty, the Princess of Orosi, but you may simply call me… Maria” As she finished her sentence following a dramatic pause, a warm and bright light shone into the once dim room, casting it in beautiful rays of light. The Room was ornate, and through the Windows Sapi could see an entire palace complex, set alongside a sharp cliff before the Ocean below. “Now, Sapi” Maria said, standing up with a motion for Sapi to do the same “You have been so generously provided as a gift by Orosi’s dear ally, Prkos, alongside the bountiful produce of the fields held by those to whom you belonged to, the Empire. But fear now, dear little bunny, for you are now free to live here…” Maria motioned around to the ornate room, a massive bed as it’s side. “As my servant of course.” She said, giggling shortly after. Sapi’s face suddenly twisted into a short burst of fury, grabbing a conveniently placed knife off a nearby table with a stumble, before going for a killing slash… But her hand stopped. “I forgot to mention, if you look at your hand, Dear Sapi.” On Sapi’s wrist, right below where she held the knife, was a golden bracelet. “That little Bracelet… simply prevents you from harming me, I wouldn’t want a nasty little scar on this face, would I? Of course, it also does some other things, like making you unable to talk unless told to- you can speak by the way. Now-“ “You-“ Sapi shouted exasperated “Now, now, don’t interrupt me, my dearest little bunny girl. Now, I will fully admit, you are a test, a replacement for all those wretched little servants who are all so pouty and just won’t stop complaining, or falling into the pool by accident. Always so sad when it happens. But, behave my dear Sapi, and you might even just get to be free whenever Prkos doesn’t need me to hold a hostage anymore. Now come along Sapi, I’m starved, and you just happen to be my new cook as well. Oh, and don’t worry, I made sure those Prkosi gave you the knowledge of how to do that, I know you Bunny people aren’t particularly good chefs. Why, we’re going to have so much fun together…”

Hello! A week ago, the amazing @SilverPathfinder contacted me with an idea for a collab! Together we've come up with an anthology set in a fantastical world, where several prideful beauties find that all glory is fleeting and probably fattening too. The first is the story of Queen Saraj, former barbarian and current queen who's trading a life of toil and danger for one of ease and pampering. SilverPathfinder will post the art before and after soon. I wonder what will happen to her... ..... A Queenly Figure… Queen Saraj' tale of decadence, denial and decline began where her old life of athleticism, danger and privation ended, with the death of the great dragon Mesulthep. Awoken from ancient slumber by an unlucky treasure hunter, the ancient wyrm burst from its lair in the White Mountains and visited destruction upon the outlying duchies of Weit-Ganberg. King Valten the III was no idle ruler to let such a threat go unmatched, the gallant war leader gathered not only his personal regiment of valiant knights but his brave son and heir, Prince Hal. At great expense to the treasury the King had the guild of Enchanters forge a hundred suits of fire proof armor, each set of plate the most heat resistant harness that could be made. Unfortunately for King Valten the III, Prince Hal and all their valiant knights, they should have instead paid more for valuable intelligence than enchanted armor, for the great wyrm Mesulthep was a frost dragon. As a result, King, heir and the best knights of the kingdom were all slain in a single unusually cold summer afternoon. Valten was succeeded by his second son Valten the IVth, a shy and scholarly young man without a martial bone in his body. At the advice of his mother, the dominating and manipulative Dowager-Queen Gloria, the gangly and timid nineteen year old rather wisely decided to make the dragon someone else's problem, putting a vast bounty upon the dragon's head. As the treasury was scrapped bare thanks to the useless enchanters, who'd skipped town with the money, the new King offered a royal marriage to whoever slew the beast. Most dragon slayers assumed rightly he meant his spendthrift sister Princess Beatrice but there was one who had her eyes set on a higher prize. ..... "Why can't frost dragons ever nest somewhere warm and temperate?" the adventurer known as Saraj the Crimson asked herself, "perhaps a nice beach resort with those drinks in coconuts with the little umbrellas?" If anyone was about, they'd have said the answer was obvious. But almost anyone about would have been too stunned by the sight of a bronze skinned Brilthani Amazon at the peak of their martial beauty and wearing not but a fur cape and boots atop a tissue's worth of leather and scale mail lingerie. Tall as a knight and yet shapely as a debutant, the veteran fighter's body was a tale of hard earned survival. Long legs had the hard tone of either a top dancer or a long distance runner, matched with a bubble butt inflated by the War Goddess alone knew how many lunges. The hips under her scale mail skirt were girlish and tapered to an absolutely ludicrous waist, the muscles bulging outwards into a terrifyingly ripped six pack flanked with obliques hard as a castle wall. Above the plain of hard muscle loomed surprisingly sizeable breasts who's incongruous size and over perkiness suggested a visit to a biomancer at some point. For anyone who got their eyes higher still, past the arms worthy of a blacksmith and shoulders worthy an executioner was a fiercely sharpe face who's nose had only been broken a couple times, green eyes blazing with determination. A waist length mane of wild crimson hair hung behind her, a far cry from the usually brunette women of Weit-Ganberg who wore their hair pinned up. "And if they have to pick a cave in the mountains, why on top of an ice cliff?" the steppe borne adventuress sighed. Of course, no one was around to look at Saraj for she was three thousand feet up an ice cliff, hanging on with finger tips and toes. "They can fly anywhere, why do they care if there's a nice trail or not up to their layer? Arrogant lizards probably would enjoy it, food delivered right to their door," Saraj sighed, continuing upwards hand over hand. Saraj had fought everywhere on the continent, from the blazing northern savannah to the frigid southern tundra in the course of a twelve year career that had taken her from bounty hunteress to bouncer to dancer to assassin. "And I swear if the reward wasn't so big, I'd let the damn thing freeze up here," Saraj muttered, getting to the cliff edge and pulling herself up one handed, doing a hand stand thanks to her prodigious core strength, "but fuck am I bored with killing goblins for shillings for rich fuck mine owners and rescuing damsels for lazy nobles when I can be the laziest, richest fucking rich woman of all." She'd kept up her monologue the entire climb up the gigantic cliff face, breath not rising at all. After so long fighting, the adventuress was as hard as hard got. But now Saraj stopped, for she was standing at a small ledge just at the edge of a massive ice cavern. Within she could hear the rumblings of a vast, slumbering predator, clearly the dragon sleeping off a market town. "Got you, you slumbering fuck," the red head whispered to herself. She pulled a bag of holding out of her belt, rummaging around for her favorite spear Gore-Monger, a short hafted stabber with a brutally sharp head equally good as cutting as thrusting. Not stopping, she pulled out a wine skin and guzzled down a bottle's worth of wine. Licking the red liquid off her lips and feeling warmer, Saraj creapt into the dragon's lair. Most of the monster hunters hired by the new king had tried killing the competition. The survivors had staked out claims in various villages to try and shoot the beast down with artillery. Only the barbarian Saraj had had the strength and skill to climb to the dragon's isolated cave. She was helped no doubt because the Brilthani battle wine she chugged from the enchanted wine skin protected her from freezing temperatures and sword blades alike while displaying herself in her skimpy armor. Belching a little, the only slightly tipsy barbarian leapt silent as a hunting cat through the cave, soon finding vast piles of treasure heaped around. The gold lead up to a vast, slumbering blue white form, Mesulthep the Terrible. The drake was big as a small town and stuffed with recent carnage, bloated off of kidnapped noble women and devoured cattle herds. To Saraj he looked like a fat, lazy cat sleeping in the sun. One worth a kingdom. Saraj smiled, did a ten foot standing long jump to land on one toe, cart wheeled over a pile of swords, jumped off of a stack of tapestries and found herself clinging to a great icicle hanging from the ceiling, long as a trireme. Ignoring how she went to goose pimples from toe to crown, the barbarian crawled upwards and jammed her spear into the cavern mouth. Hanging on one handed, she pulled a cherry potion from her bottomless bag of holding and chugged it down. "Damn wizards, they better not have stiffed me like they did to the King or I'lll...ohh.ohhhh!" Saraj grunted, face going beat crimson as her bloody mane as she belched a great gout of flame from the fire breath potion. At the sudden heat the massive stalactite dropped, breaking free from the melted ceiling and falling down. Mesulthep's awful blue eyes opened blearily as the stalactite slammed down...nearly thirty feet from his head. "Gods damn it!" Saraj sighed, "I'll do it myself then!" Kicking off the ceiling, the far deadlier barbarian fell spear tip first onto the dragon's skull. Looking around blearily, the dragon never saw the deadly missile plumet and put enchanted steel through his brain. His body gave a great shiver and his head fell to the sea of coins with a great *clang* of scale on gold, dislodging Saraj who bounced through the sea of lucre. She got up with a bodice full of coins, bra ripping apart at the heavy weight. "When I got these upsized I knew my fees would go up, I didn't expect they'd get me coin literally," she muttered, beginning the long task of shoving the dragon horde and the dragon's head into her bag, "He better have a bra my size in this hoard, I can't be at court with my titties out...although that might help the plan..." So it was that a day of loading coin and a dragon's head into the bag of holding and then a week of travel passed, with Saraj entering the Royal Court of King Valten the IVth. The great court hall was as big as the dragon's lair, with nearly as much wealth on display. Fifty foot tall windows and a gigantic crystal dome let the sun shine down onto marble pillars and golden statues. Knights in recovered and cleaned armor defended against any fire dragon encursions until a buyer could be found, while a forest of nobles in exotic silks, furs and lace gathered about the red carpet leading to the throne. A herald lead the dragon slayer up that carpet, through the forest of courtiers and towards the King. Whispers followed immediately, for Saraj stood out among the coastal folk. Although most of the men were taller than her, she had several inches on the women as well as much tanner skin and fiery copper red hair rather than the dark brown of the nobility. Of course, the dragon slayer wanted to stand out. The Adventuress put as much effort in catching a king as she did in killing a dragon. She'd spent some of her new immense wealth on visiting the best salons and biomancer in the city. Normally tangled red hair was now a luxuriously soft, perfumed mane, her teeth were straighter and whiter, her lips plumped and the crookedness of her oft broken nose fixed, while some sun damage from a life outdoors had been smoothed out. A half cape of slain dragon hide covered part of her back and knee high boots made from frost dragon leather and with an impractical four inch heel, showed off her legs and gold arm bands hugged her biceps, while savage feathered and fanged tokens were hung from her ears and hair. Discipline as well as money had gone into her appearance, usually after a big payday Saraj let loose a bit and oft acquired some wine bloat, but she'd had not but water and lean meat for a whole week while running every day, cutting her low body fat even lower until her muscles gleamed. That morn she'd reversed that a bit by having a biomancer top off her breasts to the next size up, an intentionally under sized mithril bra letting them bulge while Saraj' broad shoulders kept them high. Judging by the oohs, aaahs and occasional drools by the civilized folk glancing at her muscular curves, the money and effort had been worth it. Never mind that Saraj was a bit dehydrated and light headed, or that her heels made her gait unsteady or that her boobs were so big they made even she top heavy. She looked every inch the fierce steppe warrior, far removed and drawing every male and lesbian eye in the room. Saraj walked with practiced disinterest, taking in her competition. Weit-Ganberg was famous for its beautiful women, with local legend saying that the daughters of the Goddess of Love and Beauty had founded it, and the tall barbarian saw no shortage of fair maidens. Given that there was a new, unmarried young King on the throne every noble woman with a Lady before her name and a Van, Von, de or Di in the middle of it was here trying to catch a royal eye. Brocaded skirts were slit to the hip to show glimpses of slender legs in high heels, while the gowns were pulled in tight at the waist to show hour glass curves. Faces were snow white pale and tastefully painted, lips berry red and eyes ringed with mascara to pop, while the mostly curly brown hair was tied back in severe buns, small, pointless hats pinned to them with pearl tipped pins. Whole lordships were clearly being mortgaged to pay for the many plump busts bulging against low cut tops and straining straps, by inward curved shoulders some of the smaller girls were having difficulty managing suddenly head sized boobs. There wasn't an ugly girl in sight, each of them would have been a once in a generation beauty in a smaller city with messy hair and in rags, now they were dressed to their best. No noble daughter of Weit-Ganberg would ever be caught at less than their best in public, the shame alone might kill them. To that end, as Saraj noticed, there were few girls over twenty and none who were even approaching plump. Noble women in Weit-Ganberg were on severe diets until their majority, for producing daughter more than svelte was an uncurable scandal. Biomancers were excellent at making flat chests sprout and turning pimply complexions peachy smooth, but only diet could make fat bellies shrink and thick thighs stop chaffing. And given how the great city was a center of exotic luxury trade, shipping in new tasty sensations every day, combined with no noble woman wanting to admit her beauty took effort to maintain....well. Saraj wasn't surprised to see that all of the oh so slender debutantes held small plates of tasty entrees who were getting out of hand now that they were no longer under their mother's thumbs. Most years the young beauties tried to get married by twenty one, as early in the tourney season as they could, so they could get pregnant with some gallant knight's sprog and go into seclusion where their weight wouldn't be an issue. After a decade or so of pregnancies and some crash dieting, most tended to re-enter public in their early thirties, for a young matron was expected to have fertile curves, aided acceptably by corsets. A few had a head start, the handful of girls over twenty were standing a bit stiffly and having a bit thinner waists than their hips and busts would suggest. It only showed compared to their younger cohorts, but given how so many were popping bon bons to mouth due to jealousy at Saraj' cut figure the others would soon catch up. "Announcing the Dragon Slayer, Seraj Redmane!" the perfumed, plumed herald yelled, "Slayer of the Great Ice Wyrm Mesulthep!" Seraj ignored the clapping, looking at the royal family on their thrones. The new King Valten wasn't built quite for her taste. He'd led a life reading and studying laws and histories and philosophies, which had given him soft hands and thin body. Clearly his famously muscular brother had been the family athlete. But only one of them was alive and given the current King's face was fairly square jawed, Saraj could live with him being a bit delicate at the moment. Especially as she'd chugged a fertility potion before entering the throne room and planned to give him the work out of his life when it kicked in. "Approach the throne, heroine of the hour," the young monarch said, eyes practically undressing the stunning barbarian and licking suddenly dry lips, "I, um that is we..." "We regret to inform you that the offered prize of the hand of Princess Beatrice is off the table," a much firmer maternal voice said loudly from the throne next to him. Dowager Queen Gloria seemed far sharper than her son and her throne sat a little higher than his. A still beautiful woman in her early forties, she was quite slender in her tight green dress, any fat save her bust burned off by pure intensity. Her black hair was pulled back and her grey eyed gaze seemed quite predatory, matching her raptorial limbs. Her daughter Princess Beatrice sat a smaller throne, a debutante on the elder edge of the pretty women in the crowd. Her face was the glorious heart of most Weit-Ganberg maidens, although her hair was blonde and her figure strained the bonds of acceptable. Her dress slit went only to the knees, a stiff posture told of a corset hiding a tummy inside her cloth of gold gown, while arms actually had a little softness to them. Where it came from was no mystery, for the girl's soft fingers, many rings biting into them, were popping chocolates into her mouth. Saraj suppressed a giggle at the decadent sight, in her own tribe it was rare to see a woman under forty without abs. "But the throne shall offer a greatly valuable title for slaying the dragon, as well as the princess' weight in silver...," the Queen began before the dragon slayer cut her off. "Oh there is no need to stress the treasury, for I seek the original bounty. As the bounty papers said, a royal marriage," Saraj smiled, looking the King directly in the eye and standing erect, inhaling to make the mithral bra sigh, "what do you say your grace? I am but a barbarian girl true, but I bring with me a heavy bride price..." Saraj opened her bag of holding, letting a flood of heavy, ancient gold coins pour to the carpet, stopping when they reached mid calf. "The King's ambassadors already negotiate-," the Queen mother began to say, only for the King to now interrupt her! "Of course you are accepted! With great glee!" the young man said hurriedly, trying not to squeak, youthful lust overriding fear of his mother. "Then my love, let us be wed this very eve, for my barbarian passions run hot after a battle and can only be cooled by a royal heir between my hips," the Dragon slayer added, hamming herself up quite unnecessarily. Saraj dismissed the Queen Mother, thinking the older woman defeated. But she should have noticed the hateful green stare of Queen Gloria boring into her abs. It was a fatal mistake... For Saraj' figure. ….. Dowager Queen Gloria was out not just for revenge, but for the continuation of her power. Weit-Ganberg’s old laws about the handover for power were finicky things, with old bylaws and customs baked into them from long centuries earlier. For instance, a King’s mother maintained the title of Queen not just until her son married and not just until the King’s bride gave birth, but until the woman lost her baby weight and was predictably gorgeous again. Gloria was keen to hold onto that title and was not about to lose it to an over muscled slut fresh from killing monsters. Plans of poisons and assassinations were going through Gloria’s pretty head as the ethereally slender Queen sat through the measurements of Saraj’ gown. The barbarians buff curves were phenomenal and it was unheard of for a twenty eight year old to be so fit. Gloria herself had been a shapeless, post-pregnancy blob at that age, three hundred pounds of lumpy cellulite and stretchmarks who hadn’t even begun slimming down until two years and another pregnancy later. “A lady of Weit-Ganberg does not flaunt herself so brazenly, especially a Queen. It is quite unbecoming of someone who must be known for being demure,” Queen Gloria said to her new daughter in law as the tapes and measures were put away, “and I would suggest perhaps a hair covering as well after we put it into its proper bun....” “Ha, well a proper lady wouldn’t have killed a dragon, would she?” Saraj laughed dismissively, “I’ll flaunt my muscle and my hair as I should, I’m proud of them and will let them be displayed. Anyone young woman with curves like mine would.” It was the first time in years any had gainsaid Queen Gloria, much less insulted her as the not so subtle jab at her age and diet potion flattened chest did. Saraj’ words made her thin face redden in anger and her daughter and all of her friends in the bridal party laugh to see the matriarch pu down. But on the inside she smiled, for she’d been proven correct, told to caution herself and this barbarian would only do the opposite. Servants, unasked for by the girl’s but scheduled by the Queen, brought a layer of treats into the fitting room: delicate little cupcakes and tiny pies, cookies and biscuits and clotted cream and tea. While the Queen merely had a cup of sugarless green tea, the younger beauties began to feast, that Weit-Ganberg tendency to gorge going from the lowest Count’s daughter to the near plump Princess Beatrice to the future Queen, for Saraj was starving. Gloria let them gorge a bit undisturbed, then said her planned peace. “Perhaps it is not wise to eat such sweet and fattening fair while being fitted for such tight dresses,” Gloria said to the bridesmaids with false sweetness, “some of your measurements are already looking rather large at the midsection. And my future in law, perhaps you should watch your diet. If the Gods bless us you will carry my grandchild soon and pregnant women are known to pile on the pounds…”’ The future Queen snorted, mouth full of cake, “While I’m sure to be carrying a Prince in my womb come morning, some sweets will not hurt me.” Queen Gloria put her tea cup to her face to hide a scowl, one that was secretly a smile. She would barely even need to craft a trap to snare this barbarian harlot into fatness. But just having her plump up wasn’t nearly enough for the older monarch. Saraj would soon spend the rest of her days living as an obese shut in, too humiliatingly fat to leave her chambers and it would start today. Every famed Weit-Ganberg beauty lived in anticipation and fear of their wedding day, anticipation they could at last relax from the punishing beauty standards and fear of becoming so fat they had to lock themselves away. Staring at the shapely bubble butt of her new daughter in law as the white silk was laced up her tan curves, Queen Gloria knew the same would strike Saraj, just by the way she drooled at the pictures of possible cakes. It was almost too easy. Excusing herself, the Queen Mother made several orders to the palace staff she still controlled. She was laying a trap as dangerous as the one Saraj had laid for the dragon, if one that would take longer to snap shut. Any sympathy she’d felt for the barbarian woman faltered during the ceremony when the muscular redhead strutted down the aisle in a gown that showed her abs gleaming in all their glory, making Gloria seethe in remembrance of the flat belly she’d had before child bearing had given her stretchmarks. And any chance that the trap would fail was put paid at the wedding feast. After more than a week of cutting, eating not but water and vegetables, Saraj was absolutely starving...even before the appetite stimulant Queen Gloria had laced her drink with at the fitting kicked in! The barbarian beauty stuffed herself silly with butter fried bread, glazed nuts and stuffed mushrooms before the meal, then stuffed herself even more on steak and baked potatoes (both drowned in butter) during the main course. Thanks to the libido potion she’d chugged down (and perhaps the four bottles of wine and small keg of cider that followed at the feast), the barbarian was getting hornier by the bite, her face going red and breathing becoming labored. By the time the main course got there she was eating one handed, her other hand under the table and wrapped around her surprised new husband’s shaft. Gloria ignored her son being given a hand job under the table, which would lead nowhere as she’d had her personal alchemist dose every ounce of alcohol with powerful birth control elixirs.Fertile as she might seem, Saraj wouldn’t quicken tonight. No, Queen Gloria was focusing on how much and what Saraj was putting away for future study. When the six foot cake was wheeled out, Saraj’ eyes bulged in pure lust. The bride cut the cake with a greatsword long as a man and nearly bit off a royal finger when her husband fed her a heavy slice, the woman gluttonously gorging down nearly a whole tier. “She looks like she’s going to need to be rolled out of here,” Princess Beatrice chuckled, the blonde princess adjusting her own skintight dress as the bulge of her too stuffed belly bit into her ready to split corset when she got up to get her own slice. “And you dear daughter, look ready to pop that corset my little chubette. Sit back down, you’re on a diet with no booze, no bread and no boys until I can see cheekbones on you again,” the Queen Mother told her daughter, “Ignore our barbarian inlaw, you know how those not from the city lack control…” The next morning, the new Queen Saraj woke up in a four poster bed big as a peasant’s cottage. She was a bit bloated from her feast, a bit sore between her legs, for despite his scholar’s build her new husband came with a battering ram any knight would envy, and most of all, very, very hung over from her vast booze up the night before. Her new Mother In Law left her a present, a potent hang over cure in the form of a massive mug of coffee bearing so much cream it was practically a dairy product. Between the cream and the coffee Seraj didn’t notice the next dose of appetite stimulant. She slid into a small skirt and ab bearing top she’d ordered made out of royal purple silk, hard core muscles holding in her mild bloat and began her day. “Perhaps such a racy garment doesn’t befit a Queen at court…,” Gloria told her daughter in law when the former woman at last left her chambers. “Or perhaps past Queen’s didn’t befit a garment such as this? I will be different,” Saraj smiled. Unusual exhaustion plagued the fire haired new Queen all morning as she was congratulated by the kingdom’s nobility. She regained some energy after a vast luncheon where she attacked with the same fervor she’d shown the frost dragon,although she got a little ** on wine until the Queen Mother told Saraj that drunkenness at noon was unbecoming of a monarch. This led to Saraj becoming very ** indeed, before the King and his new bride disappeared for a small ‘training session’ that sent high pitched screams ringing through the vast castle and left Saraj napping until late afternoon. She groggily engaged in a tour of the palace grounds that afternoon...before the former Queen Gloria managed to make her attend a high tea only by promising that it had vast amounts of food. Gloria had been the center of these teas for years, but now she was ignored by curvy matrons who’s curves required corsetry and their slender daughters as the new Queen Saraj waxed poetic about her famed conquest, both romantic and battlefield. While of course, eating heavily. Dinner was almost an exact copy of luncheon, with Gloria suggesting again and again that Saraj restrain herself now that she wore a golden crown...which the younger Queen did not, leaving the table, full, ** and with the King in hand. Gloria pretended to be flustered, letting that travel among the court’s younger ladies, whose ranks didn’t include her daughter Beatrice, that chubby princess having been hauled off to the Nunnery of Holy Denial to slim down to an acceptable level. It was a well established pattern by the end of the week: the appetite stimulants kept Saraj hungrier and lazier than she would be naturally, while the birth control made sure no royal heir would yet grow in her belly. There were a few half hearted training sessions that Gloria allowed Saraj to indulge in by having the sedative levels lowered, lest things appear too suspicious but the warrior woman’s heart was out of her life of arms on its own. Sleeping late, being waited on hand and foot, with ever new delicacies at hand to try and her only exercise laying with her husband, Saraj began to soften. Those proudly flaunted abdominals were the first to go. In her warrior days, Saraj had done hundreds of sit ups and planks and crunches every day to keep her core tight. It was the first thing she abandoned as a Queen and the impact was soon seen as the muscles began to lose mass and fat began to collect around them. Fat started to build over her navel, rising up as a vengeful sea to drown the proud islands above. By the end of a month all trace of muscle was gone and little fat rolls were showing on Saraj back as love handles started in. Hard won definition of her legs and arms faded away, her arm bands starting to bite into fat instead of clinging on to muscle. That massively enhanced bust didn’t hold up quite so easily, settling a bit as her shoulder muscles weakened. There was some shrinking though, without any squats or running, Saraj’ bubble butt began deflating faster than fat could grow on it. But her precious waist was the real star of the show, soon growing soft and pinchable. Two months into her marriage and the Queen’s starter gut was jiggling as her husband pounded her, the barbarian bride clinging on with softer thighs and putting in less effort. The sudden weight gain was a talking point at court, for their was nothing more cherished than a beauty gone to seed as gossip. That Saraj kept appearing less than her best scandalized the court, turning any sympathetic hearts away from her, although rumors that the red head was showing a pregnancy from before her marriage didn’t help. After all, didn’t she’d only been married for two months and yet now Saraj was clearly bloated each morn! Saraj herself was oblivious, alternating as she was between hung over, ** and horny. Every day servants loyal to the old Queen replaced her skimpy garments with slightly looser ones, ensuring that pinching or ripping fabric didn’t reveal Saraj was going to seed to herself. No one in court brought up her chubbefying to her face, it was quite gauche to do so, so nothing stopped Saraj from snacking heavily between meals as her bad habits built up. Any sign of her husband’s ardor fading wasn’t apparent, for the young King Valens the IV was starting to bulk up with muscles even as his wife plumpened with fat and like all men of Weit-Ganberg, it was understood that your beautiful bride would get bigger quickly. But after a few weeks of showing up to court with an ever large bulge, rumors that the Queen was carrying a bastard let Gloria strike. “Ughhh, I should cut down on the drinking,” Saraj sighed as she finally stirred from sleep at the prod of her growling tummy, “and Valens is really thrusting harder, yawwwnnnn!” The sleepy, naked red head stretched on the satin sheets, her stomach almost flattening before relaxing into a paunch. Yawning and bllinking hangover gunk from her eyes, Queen Saraj rang the little bell next to her bed, summoning servants with a massive spread of cinnamon rolls, bacon, potatoes, fried eggs, toast and cheese, as well as a vast selection of jams and honeys and sauce. She munched happily for near half an hour before sliding into an immensely hot bath, stuffed belly bulging at the top, nearly sleeping again as her maid’s brushed her hair. Only a sharp pinch behind the back of her head made her set up with a yowl. “What the fuck are you girls doing?” Saraj snapped at them, reaching up to find that her wild main was pinned behind her head. “Exactly what I told them to, lovely daughter in law of mine,” Dowager Queen Gloria said smoothly. The naked barbarian turned to glare, the prim and trim older woman sat on a stool and drinking green tea. Next to her was laid out a pink dress for a tall and somewhat plump woman. “What are you doing in my chambers, hag?” Saraj growled, as if she was still an alpha predator. “Why I’m here to take my darling son’s bride to the royal physician,” Gloria smiled, “its been three months since you were married and tongues are a lolling about whether or not you’ve a royal bun in your oven.” Saraj blanched at that. Three months and at least three sex acts a day hadn’t stopped her cycle, despite knowing she should be quite fertile. “I have no need for your help with that,” Saraj hissed, standing up (pressing up with her arms) to let water run off her soft, bloated stomach, “your son manages just fine…” “Oh but is he? For by royal law, subject to every queen for centuries, if the bride fails to become pregnant within a year then she is exiled,” Gloria told her daughter in law calmly, “stripped of all her titles and possesions and dumped on the border. To that end, every three months she must be examined if she’s not yet knocked up. I’m sure a strapping barbarian woman like you must be tired of such a luxurious life with its servants and massages and meals but I don’t want my son’s heart broken…” Saraj only glared harder, for she quite enjoyed being pampered, “Fine, I’ll go to the physician but why does this involve you?” Gloria laughed once more, “Why me? Because as Dowager Queen it is my responsibility to ensure you are pregnant, for if you go more than three months without conceiving then you lose all privileges and rights until the year is up, becoming completely under my authority.” The barbarian went red as her hair in anger, pulling the pins from her bound hair to let it fall free. She stepped towards the Queen mother to stab her but slipped a bit on the tile thanks to her weakened muscles, slowed responses and changing center of gravity. After a moment’s awkward stumbling she leaned against a wall, breathing hard and glaring, having dropped the pins. “I suppose you don’t need to follow my orders...unless you aren’t pregnant after all…,” the Queen mother smiled, “now come, there’s a sedan chair waiting for you.” “I’ll walk, unlike some I’m not a spoiled, useless noble woman,” Saraj said with an upturned nose, showing off the double chin she was growing, “Girls, get me dressed and not in that pink abomination!” An hour later a tired, slightly sunburned Saraj completed the long, hot outdoor walk to the royal doctor’s office. And an hour after that, exhaustive test showing that she was very much not pregnant, a state that the paid off physician put down to over indulgence of food and alcohol combined with lack of exercise, she returned via sedan chair. Saraj long locks of red hair were gathered up in a tight bun behind her head, while a pink silk wimple covered the top of her head. Her gown was the same color, which didn’t flatter her sunburned face one whit and it didn’t help that the dress was much too small, hugging her softened body like a sausage casing. A little external corset was built into the dress, it didn’t help at all and its over stretched laces were pressing tight into Saraj’ soft ** belly. “Tut tut, getting so chubby before you’ve had a child?” The Queen said to the chair mounted barbarian. “Shut up,” Saraj fumed. “I’d warned you to watch your figure as you entered the next stage of your life, I didn’t know you’d get so chubby as to avoid getting pregnant!” the Queen muttered tittered, “I did tell you to not eat so much…” “I...shut...shut up!” Saraj fumed, rising with difficulty from the chair and running down the rest of the hall to her vast, pampered chambers. “Don’t worry daughter in law, I’ll ensure you slim down before you’re dumped, fat and weak and helpless and naked on the border. No more snacks, no more big meals or booze ups, just a strict, strict diet from now on. Starting tomorrow, nothing but raw carrots and broccoli for you!” Gloria laughed through the door, going on for her next plan. Inside her chambers, Saraj tore off the tight, humiliating pink gown in a fury. One that turned into a struggle as she wasn’t strong enough to rip off all of it in one go anymore. Viciously angry at her mother in law, the ruby haired young queen looked around her soft, palatial rooms in a frenzy and grabbed the first thing that came to hand: a snack. Over the last months, the servants Gloria controlled had been stock piling junk food inside the room: candies and cakes and pies, building up faster than Saraj could eat them. With several meals worth of junk before her and many bottles of booze as well, the former heroine did what was now second nature: indulge. By the time Saraj was through the third pound of chocolate, Queen Gloria was already three steps ahead. She found her Kingly son undergoing sword drills, new muscles shining and bid him to her side. “Pardon to interrupt my son, but I fear for your Queen,” the dowager said with false empathy, “there’s been terrible news from the royal physician. She was told at the start that she must gain a great deal of weight to conceive, which is why she’s let herself ge so big without complaint. But the treatment must continue and she’s in tears over it. I remember what it was like to be young and afraid you were losing your beauty, you must comfort her…” King Valens the IV was a kind man, despite his growing shoulders, and deeply in love with his bride, “Of course, at once, thank you for bringing this to me, I know you’ve not gotten along…” “For which I am ever so sorry, I feel almost like this is my fault,” the Dowager sighed, while eying up the muscular sword instructor Knight waiting for her son, “here is what you must do. Under no circumstances mention her weight to her or her fears of not conceiving, why the poor thing was terrified she’d be dumped alone at the border if she didn’t get with child soon, as if we were barbarians! No, what you must do is, well I hate to say it…” Fear and concern on his face, Valten could barely not interrupt her, “yes? What must I do?” “Well, when you have sex with her, you must insure she eats while you have sex. I’ve sent for funnels and tubing for the chambers you lay in, as well as a special mixture of cream and chocolate to make her more fertile. Its the only way for her to gain weight fast enough,” the lying middle aged woman smiled, “and the physician did mention that a change in attitude might help, so suggest that during sex she be tied up and spanked. If she learns to accept the changes to herself it will allow her to relax, so insist that she go every where in public with you so that she becomes used to stares and half heard jibes. She’s too embarrassed to wear her older clothes so tell her you love her wearing the civilized clothes she now has to squeeze into…” King Valten the IV would go down in history as a smart and effective monarch, but he never did learn to question his mother. Under the new regime, the already fattening Saraj ballooned. While she ate tiny meals, Gloria had paid Saraj’ servants to pretend to bring her treats. Hungry from being denied three squares a day, the former barbarian glutted herself at every other time on even more fattening junk and intoxicating beer ‘smuggled’ into her room by ‘friendly’ maids. The funnel feeding and light domination were the whipped cream and cherry on top of her gain, the kindly young King telling his wife how beautiful she was while she was blind folded and with a tube of cream in her mouth.Whenever the Dowager Queen pretended frustration at Saraj gain was one of the few points of pride that she had, making her forget the looming false deadline. At the King’s request, the increasingly fat young Queen accompanied him frequently to court. Surrounded by the lithe young ladies, most now half her size, Saraj felt not but embarrassment, especially as her clothes were always skin tight at the belly and loose and unsupportive at the chest, giving her a frumpy appearance. Over the coming months, what remained of the Queen’s figure disappeared. The untamed, wild planes of her face bulged out with cherubic cheeks, threatening to join with her multiplying chins and thickening neck to make jowls. Breasts popped up a few more cup sizes, far bigger than her head and with a matronly settling across her chest. Their weight made her weaker shoulders curve inwards, as Saraj arms inflated with fat to surpass her old bicep size and become wobbling pillows. Stretch marks appeared on the thigh fat hanging over her knee and the few times she did walk, Saraj now waddled and her calves got too chunky for her dragon scale boots or high heels. Widening hips began to get stuck in chairs and brush narrower doorways, while her cellulite coated butt remained flat. The hard tan a life of outdoors had given her faded, the woman going girlishly pale, almost piggishly as she was in soft pink gowns all the time. The sobrequiet “Royal Sow” began to pass around court, always whispered at the edge of the porky Queen’s hearing. Only the King’s insistence that he loved her and thought she was ever more beautiful kept her going, but while she found her self loving her husband Saraj found her self esteem plummeting in opposition to her weight. She wasn’t a warrior anymore, she wasn’t fast and dangerous, now she was slow and **, a tamed and domesticated pig of a woman who couldn’t even have children! Not that anyone could have told, given how vast the overfed Saraj gut looked. Hefty love handles grew thick as a folio of plays, then a multi volume biography of a particularly dull playright as side fat hung over her hips. Every day grew Saraj gut bigger and softer, bulging out until it began first to divide into two rolls as it filled her lap. Then it began to sag, pulling downwards and outwards until it was at her knees and her belly button could fit a wine bottle. “Come my piggish little princess, its your anniversary today, an entire year has passed since we met! Aren’t you happy?,” Queen Gloria said with a chipper smile early one morning, “although it is also your last chance to prove you are pregnant, lest you be dumped outside the kingdom…” She’d been starting her own affair with the palace sword master and felt like a billion gold coins, if such a number had yet to be invented and inflation wasn’t concerned. “Ugh, please can I wait another day, I feel sick to my stomach…,” Saraj groaned, huddled inside her bed with the curtains closed. Gloria practically floated inside, throwing back the curtain to find a blob in a tent like pink dress. Rather than dropping a few pounds, the barrage of fattening food had added another hundred to the once formidable woman. Fat as a pig and soft as suet, Saraj couldn’t even meet her in laws eye! “Oh that’s just nerves, but don’t you worry!” Gloria smiled, tipping up the now weak willed barbarian’s head, “I’ll take care of you! Darling Beatrice is coming home, having dropped that stubborn fat like any true born daughter of Weit-Ganberg can after a little starvation diets...well I guess you aren’t a true born daughter are you? Not with that fourth chin I spy!” Saraj blinked back tears, her fear only growing as servants brought in not one of her figure hugging dresses but her old armor! “What...what is that…,” Saraj gulped, “I can’t, I can’t wear that anymore…” “Oh darling, its the law! On your anniversary you must wear what you wore before the king first!” Gloria smiled, “don’t worry, I know you’re a little bit chubby now so I had it let out a few sizes...perhaps I should have done so a little more, you’ve really put on weight recently!” Getting Saraj into the skirt armor and metal bra was the work of a dozen servants, some of them seamstresses to repair the damage it took. “I’ve never seen an ass so wide and yet so flat!” one said “And this gut, its coverint up everything, how are we supposed to get this inside anything?” another seamstress sighed. “Best forget getting her arm rings on, they’re big as flour sacks!” the third grunted, throwing the gold a once fit Saraj had won to the corner, “and her fingers’ too fat for her wedding ring!” “This bra will almost work, she’s only gotten a bit bigger in the chest and they rest on the stomach a bit, it should stop her falling out of the bra...maybe,” another seamstress sighed. “These greaves won’t fit her cankles, they’re thick as her thighs were!” the last said. All the seamstresses were young and slim, each barely a third Saraj size. Every time she received a snide remark about her weight or felt a pinch on her soft body or the poke of a pin as they tried fitting her, the red head went redder and redder in the face. “Here dear, take this as a walking stick!” Gloria said to the once fighting fit Saraj, handing her her old spear. The weapon had gone rusty and it felt awkward, heavy and rough in her soft, swollen grip. She couldn’t believe that this polearm had once been at hand every day! Given how poor her sense of where her bulbous folds and bulges ended, she felt a shiver of fear at it, even though the blade was dulled. “Do I really need to carry this? And can’t I wear something a bit less...revealing?” Saraj begged. “Oh don’t worry love, after today, you’ll never need to worry about a weapon again,” the Queen Mother grinned, “Now come, lets get you to the Sedan chair, I know you’re a bit wide for the hallway and the seat, but those awful servants put some hot chocolate on it to steady your nerves…” It took the work of three royal guards to get the queen into the overloaded sedan chair and it took the King’s kind words to coax his shy, piglet of a wife out of her chambers where the assembled ladies of court (led by the returned and rail thin Princess Beatrice) laughed at her wobbling bulk. Gloria didn’t even hide her grin as the exasperated Saraj was hauled towards the physician’s office. “I do hope that she takes the news she’s pregnant well…,” the King mentioned quietly to his mother. “Oh I’m sure she will, I know she wanted to be told a bit later in the process so as not to worry but those fertility potions you gave her three months ago always do the trick,” Gloria smiled, “now that she’s in such a delicate state though, she must be confined to bed. And we must increase how much she’s eating, the poor thing looks so frail.” “Are you sure, mother? Saraj is always beautiful to me, but she’s so...big. It must weigh on her to be the fattest woman at court…,” the kind King said. “Oh don’t worry about that, she can go into seclusion after the pregnancy is announced. Now I know you’ll want to get her pregnant several more times and she’s almost thirty, so I will handle running the palace until she slims down…,” Gloria smiled.

The taxi stopped in the middle of the city’s largest urban scar, its red light flashing in the darkness of the semi-abandoned district. The Greyfields of North Avenue were not considered a rough neighbourhood, which would be a gross understatement. It was no-man’s land, a thin spread of urban dystopia left unattended. Almost no basic utilities reached the unfinished high rise projects and low income housings of this place. Stuck in a zoning legal feud for the last twelve years, it was now crawling with society’s less wanted, all non-humans, obviously. It wasn’t densely populated by any means, but it was full of hiding spots for squatters and militants alike. The rugged dwarven driver tipped his cap and glanced one last time at the girl sitting on the backseat. His moustache burrowed mouth opened slightly, as to give some last minute advice, but he said nothing. If this girl was looking for trouble, it was none of his business. He preferred to stay away from trouble and lay low, but she sure had a different approach. One thing was sure, this elven punk wasn’t going to blend in easily with the street marginal and other hardcore activists of this place. The outfit was right, at least it was fitting well enough with the general trend around here. She had mid-length electric blue hair shaved on one side, and her long pointy ears were also shamelessly exposed, with a cylinder piercing going through at the top. Her makeup was on point, maybe a little too perfect in fact for any street fashionista. She had blue lipstick on her full plump lips, and a small choker going around her soft neck. Looking at her face only, one could hardly expect what was to come. Her denim jacket was full of patch and studs and her blue cropped top was complimenting her set quite nicely. It wasn’t unusual for girls her age to go like this, with their jacket open to expose some cleavage, and their shirt revealing their stomach. But in the case of this girl, it was a different kind of statement altogether. Not in this century could this jacket button over the melon like breast of this girl, each globe more than twice the size of her head and tightly packed inside her struggling boob biting bra. This elf girl was so busty one would wonder if she was in fact half-nymph or something similar. Sadly, the truth was much simpler, as one only needed to glance a few inches lower to see her bosom wasn’t the only thing big about this girl. Her blue top was riding up the rolled dome of a massively overfed stomach, with her chest resting heavily on top of the upper curve of this decadent belly. The round blubbery thing was so big it filled most of her lap, and the driver remembered he had to move the seat so she could squeeze her absurd tummy inside the cab. She hadn’t buckled up for the ride either. How could she? The seat belt was several inches too short to go around that girth, and her wide bum was spreading over the buckle on the seat anyways. As he stopped near the gathering place, she smiled and glanced one last time at her cellphone before shoving it inside her jacked. ''Thanks for the ride. I just transferred you the money on the app. You should come you know, this gathering is for all of us.'' She said, before opening the passenger door and beginning to shuffle her way outside. She was a little wedged on the backseat, and she needed to rock her body in wave like motion so she could get her leg out of the cab and start to pull herself up. The dwarf driver tried not to stare as she rested one arm against the door and used the other to pull against the metal frame. With a grunt of effort, she managed to haul her massive bum off the seat, and she popped free of the car, her broad hips brushing against the door frame as she squeezed out, before stumbling on the sidewalk. She used the door for support until her soft body settled and she recovered her balance. The driver felt his car suspension bounce back into place with what almost sounded like a groan of relief, the car having being tipped on one side for the whole ride. She took a small moment to arrange her hair and to pull up her jean shorts over her stomach, before closing the door and walking away from the taxi with her slow ponderous gait. The dwarf glanced at her one last time, wondering a second what was to become of this pampered suburb girl before getting the hell out of the Greyfields, leaving her alone in the dark clad street. Nymeria wasn’t scared. Thanking her elven eyes for helping her with the darkness, the punk girl slowly walked toward one of the abandoned high rise buildings. It was the place. She could already hear the music thanks to her sensitive ears. She was feeling nervous, but it was also exhilarating to get to a non-human gathering. She always wanted to join the ranks of the egalitarian activists, but she had no way to join in when the movement was still underground. Nym wasn’t really connected with the street, having enjoyed a life as the daughter of two elven bureaucrats, growing in an upper middle class family in the suburbs, a very privileged life for any non-human. This event was the first openly legal and announced meeting in years. She couldn’t miss that, it was her chance! The oversized neophyte eventually managed to get in. She found the entrance a little cramped for her taste, and blushed under her foundation as she was forced to get through the door going sideways, struggling awkwardly with her overly generous hips under the stunned gaze of two orcish security staffers. Their surprise was justified. Elves weren’t supposed to grow fat. It was considered taboo and subject to disdain, even by the less traditionalists ones. But Nym had been raised surrounded by humans, and her parents could do little to keep her away from the high calorie foods humans enjoyed carelessly at school and in her community college, food no elf was supposed to touch. This diet wrecked the slow metabolism typical of her species, leaving her as a strange oddity in her world, something the rebellious elven girl embraced fully and unashamedly. As a result, she had thrown herself into the fat positivity movement, both as a way to fuck with her parents and to find some body confidence despite her overfed and ever-fattening figure. Most of the elf’s exposed flesh was covered by ink, and most of her tats were about food or displaying her shameless indulgence with provocative statements. Despite her pretty face, all this assurance wasn’t enough to make anyone overlook her taboo level of plumpness. The doormen averted their eyes as she went by. Even by orcish standard, she was way too much, having outgrown any positive fat euphemism more than an hundred pound ago. Luckily for Nymeria, despite all these minor setbacks, she wasn’t late for the evening speeches! Still, as she shuffled her way inside the cramped rally, Nym cursed under her breath, as she was unable to slip closer to the stage, her large curves making it impossible to navigate the cramped space. After she bumped one too many activists with her overfed curves, Nym was starting to draw a lot of attention to herself. Elves were often seen as collaborators in the human supremacist regime, and she looked like quite the pampered and privileged one in her punk poser attire. Between the hostility of the crowd and the real threat of police storming the place, things could turn sour for her at any moment, but Nym was too excited to notice. The obese elf girl was too busy trying in vain to stand on the tip of her toes to see better, even if she quickly realized she was too heavy for such nonsense.­­ * Nymeria was futilely trying to squeeze her oversized curves between two groups of werekins activists when she was forced to accept defeat. No matter how much she was trying to shimmy sideways, sucking in her rolled gut and holding her breasts against her body, there wasn’t any place for her to go. The blue haired elf watched with a spike of envy as a slender were-cat simply slipped past her and between the two groups, moving through the crowd with grace and ease. This one wouldn’t have to watch the speech on some screen. As Nym thought she couldn’t be more jealous, she eventually saw the slim were-cat find a tall half-orc in the front row, obviously a friend, and without much hesitation, she climbed on his shoulders, providing herself a perfect view at the cost of completely obscuring the stage to Nymeria. The decadent elf was ruminating powerlessly when she suddenly felt a firm hand on her soft shoulder. As soon as she turned around to see who it was, Nym was welcomed by the stunning smile of a tall and athletic half-orc, whose long silky hair were reaching impressive length as they danced down her toned body. Reaching out, the gorgeous half-blood placed a hand on the elf's plump shoulder. Bending her knees slightly so she could face Nym, she introduced herself, her shapely bosom accidentally brushing the elf’s massive melons. The girl had a truly beautiful smile, her soft plump lips curving around her short tusks in a seductive way. "Hey there, I never saw you in these parts. My name's Tamyana. What's yours?’’ The smile that appeared immediately on the elf’s gorgeous face was very genuine, with a touch of pleasant surprise and a flirty smirk. Clearly, Tamyana was Nym’s type, and the elf slightly blushed as she found such a gorgeous and rugged activist leaning over her. ‘’I am Nymeria, nice to meet you! You are right, I am kinda new. As soon as I knew there would be speeches and music, I knew I had to make it here! I am trying to get more involved, you know.’’ The rally was about to begin, and a small trimmed sprite with vibrant green hairs matching her wings flew nimbly above the stage, rousing the crowd before the event started. The ambience was electric. This was the largest and most public non-human gathering in years, and hopes were high among everyone present, Nym included. The egalitarians were gaining public support through grassroots movement, and after an event like this, they hoped their platform would be heard as a legitimate civil right movement and bring reforms to the table. For some reason, neither the authorities nor human supremacists seemed to take interest in the event, which gave many reasons to think the egalitarians were enjoying more tolerance than ever before from their opponents, a good signs of the progress to come. Of course, there could also be something fishy about this whole situation, but that kind of paranoia was for the security detail. No one wanted to worry on this day of celebration. Nym was clearly enjoying Tamyana attention, and she made little effort to move away from the half-orc when a duo of dwarf punks pushed her as they moved by, forcing some of the plump elf’s massive curves to press against the taller orcish girl, mostly her large and heavy bosom and parts of her thick rolled tummy. The tall girl reaction left Nym quite surprised. Indeed, Nymeria gasped and let out a playful giggle as the much taller and stronger girl squeezed her plump form in a protective embrace, strong hands moving down the plush rolls of her back fat to meet the gargantuan mass that was the elf’s bottom. The cramped denim shorts the obese punk were wearing could do little to contain the ridiculous girth of her bum, some of her butt cheeks was even hanging out of the tiny. They were doing nothing to support the avalanche of fat hanging from her waist, the poor tiny thing creaking at the front as it faced the lavishly large and absurdly heavy overhang of Nym’s lower belly. There was more skin exposed around the elf’s midsection than on the whole of most girls’ body, and here, they weren’t dressed conservatively by any means. Still, the rugged activist was a bit, forward, for Nym’s tastes. Of course she liked flirting and some cuddles, but this was so very public and intense. However, the overfed suburban girl was eager to blend in with the crowd, and being under the wing of such an impressive girl was clearly going to help. It’s not like the blue haired glutton didn’t appreciated the rough handling, it was just moving a little fast for her to feel at ease. More importantly, people stopped starring as much when Tamyana claimed her chubby bum for herself. Nym was used to the looks, she knew she was a fat elf, and even if she wasn’t ashamed by her cumbersome figure, she didn’t like to be pointed at like a circus freak. Of course, the general hostility against Nym had less to do with her ballooned appearance than her obvious privileged life, but understanding the nuances of class solidarity was above the busty elf’s capacity at this point in time. The important part was that Nym wasn’t scared by half-orc as much as she was scared to be rejected, so she played along, obvious to the fact she might not be the only one playing a game in this situation. The soft punk beauty nuzzled herself against Tamyana’s toned body, in a way that could be interpreted as coy teasing or overbearing enthusiasm, depending on one’s point of view. She was feeling the girl’s hardened stomach press against the huge masses of her bosom as she did. Having the obese elf pushed up against her was an interesting experience for the half-orc, it felt kind of like hugging a soft pillow, and the sensation alone was actually very pleasant, however the knowledge that it was a pillow of fat was a little disconcerting. When she felt the elf nuzzling against her, Tamyana got bolder, giving in to curiosity in to a moment of weakness. She let her fingers sink into the girl’s massive backside, amazed at how the fat ass squished under her hand. Releasing her grip, she felt the rolls of fat slide back to their original position, pushing her fingers back as well. She didn’t come even close to grab the whole girth of the thing. Nym felt the gentle squeeze on her bum, and noted to herself that this Tamyana was clearly a neophyte with the bigger girls like herself. It wasn’t so surprising considering that the blue haired punk was part of the 1% when fat was involved, but still, she could have thought that the activist might have been some kind of chubby chaser with the speed at which she introduced herself. The gentle, almost shy squeeze was simply adorable, and a clear sign that the half-b;ood was used to muscled glutes more than anything. The decadent elf girl didn’t sleep with any creature with hands big enough to fully grab the overflowing flesh of her juicy bum. Having the half-orc naively pinch a few inches of plush fat with her finger was so cute that Nym was almost disappointed when the taller girl released her. Nevertheless, she kept close, nuzzling the tall beauty. Her cavernous cleavage was riding up near her softened chin as she looked up, meeting the half-orc gaze with her stunning purple iris. ‘’I am so lucky I found you! You will be able to explain me all the subtleties I would miss otherwise. If you want, I can get us something to drink before it starts, what do you think?’’ Always the hedonist, Nym had indeed spotted an improvised bar nearby (and out of her reach, with her barrel of a gut blocking her way). She even saw they served this orcish milk liquor she couldn’t find anywhere! ‘’If you could be so nice as to fetch us something?’’ She asked, smirking playfully while she pulled a big bill from her jacket’s hidden pocket, struggling a little to reach around her own bosom. Pocketing the cash, the half-orc eyes lingered on Nym’s pocket, her continence slipping for a moment at the casual display of wealth. Regaining her bearing, Tamyana winked an overtly flirty wink, "Tell you what, I'll get us a drink, and then when the speeches are all over, we can get a few more down town. I can tell you about all those subtleties you mentioned and you can tell me a bit about what brings a cutie like you to this place." Tamyana was moving with such ease in the crowd thanks to her feline grace that it took her little time to get back with two large glasses of milky white liquid, a strong and sweet alcohol fermented from a mixture of goat milk and grain. She couldn’t lose Nym in that crowd even if she tried, she was easy to find. All Tamyana had to do was simply to look for the area where people weren’t packed tight. It wasn't that they weren't squished together, it was merely that Nym’s gut and rear meant there was only so close people could get. Nym licked her plump lips, smiling eagerly as she grabbed one glass, already smelling the potent yet entrancing aroma from the liquid. Finding this in the suburbs was simply impossible. Orc culture was considered inferior and unworthy, like most non-human heritages in fact. The biggest difference was that humans still liked to steal and appropriate dwarf and elven stuff for profit, while orcish culture was simply ignored and buried. It was through her anthropology classes in college that Nym slowly realized how humans were in fact creating this whole web of lies around the other species, so they would assimilate as best as they could to the majority, or turn to self-hatred. This was her first step toward the egalitarian cause, and her hedonistic self of course found a way to combine rediscovering marginalized cultures with getting hammered and stuffed. With a proud smirk, the short fat and busty elf followed the toast, and took a big sip of liquor, ready to do what she was best at : to indulge. Holding out one drink to Nym, the tall girl held the other up, "To the resistance" Nymeria expected the burn, but she didn’t expect the texture. The liquid was syrupy and silky, and rolled on her tongue like a mirage’s on the desert dunes. It was strong, it was sweet, probably too much for most, but Nym was used to overwhelm her senses, so she powered through and even took a second sip, this time tasting the sourness of the milk under the sweetness of the grain. She liked it, but she knew she couldn’t handle another glass of this if she wanted to remember her night. She pressed herself against her new crush’s toned body once more, but this time it was the plump elf that moved one arm around the much thinner waist of her new acquaintance. ‘’Thank you so much. This is exactly what I needed!’’ The scheduled speeches had begun, and an emaciated giant lady was on stage, rousing the crowd with older slogans and memories of past struggles. She was clearly an old timer and a bit of a radical, and Nym was happy she was so tall. At least she had no trouble seeing her speak with her 9 feet frame leaning over the microphone, she was so imposing! Funnily enough, Nym was actually heavier than the giantess, not that the elf was aware of that. The plump poser drank her words, even if she didn’t understand half of it, for it was in political jargon, or comments on insider info from the streets. The passion in her voice was what caught Nym’s attention. * The speeches were quickly getting wild, and the crowd was cheering speaker after speaker, with some musical numbers here and there, form quiet non-human folk to politically radical rock music. Little people knew, but the abandoned high rise where the gathering was occurring was under police surveillance, with undercover infiltrators inside waiting for the signal for a descent. This gathering was about to turn very very messy and really soon. It was bait to identify and capture non-human radicals, and all the attendance was considered collateral's. With no secure emergency exits and such a crowd, it was going to turn into a scramble for escape.

This story was inspired by a prompt from my GF @Bluebubblygirl ❤️ ^^ - The world was once the domain of the gods, living and breathing entities of great power whom ruled the cycles and laws of the physical realm. Among all the gods, the Divine Sun was the mightiest, for their light was the bringer of warmth and life and everything that was good and beautiful. The Sun fought an eternal battle against the Darkness, with only a one day truce to rest and renew their strength after each year battling across the skyline. The Divine Sun created a resting palace to enjoy this day of leisure and restore their essence, a place of beauty floating in the heavens, filled with gardens, monuments, sparkling fountains, and twelve women handpicked by the divine to be their wives. Those were the Sun Brides, deemed the most beautiful of all mortals, whom stunning eyes could rival with the rising sun, and whom statuesque feminine figures made the sun set appear mundane in its beauty. Most of these chosen youth came from privilege and high status, chosen among high priestesses, princesses, merchant daughters, and great artists. As long as they retained their exquisiteness, the Divine Sun promised them a life unmatched by the greatest mortal queens, living the whole year in the palace, and sharing the divine company on their return. Each was responsible with entertaining the divine for two hours before their leave at the end of the truce. Some sang for the Sun, some danced, some indulged in the pleasures of the flesh, and other charmed them by their wit and laughter. However, the Divine Sun’s most recent bride was different from any of the eleven others she shared the palace with. Pooran was a diamond in the rough, a mere street urchin found in the slums of the largest and filthiest city of the moral world. Her face was a natural work of art, with youthful, big innocent eyes, high cheekbones and a defined jawline leading to a gracile neck and nubile breasts. Her slender body was shapely and toned, effortlessly perfect in its proportions, carved by a hard life into a monument to mortal splendour. For the Divine Sun, she was unmatched, for she was as genuine and pure as the light itself, unaltered, unfiltered, unspoiled by vanity. Now draped in the finest silks and wearing the godly gold, the young Pooran was living a waking dream, enjoying a life of leisure and luxury in the divine palace, while she grew used to hardship, misery, and hunger. Pampered by the avian shaped servants of the Sun, she tasted fruits so sweet she almost fainted, and dipped her gorgeous lips in mead and wine so delicious she wondered why one would ever touch water again. While the other brides were used to luxury, the palace life only providing them with a slightly more exquisite life than what they could obtain among the moral with their beauty and status, Pooran was almost overwhelmed by the sudden change of lifestyle, and found herself wanting to enjoy her new privileges to the fullest, to the point moderation and wisdom were quickly left out of the picture. At first, her childlike enthusiasm charmed the other brides, who found her gleeful amazement adorable and endearing. Her fascination for all these new luxuries and delicacies was understandable, and all guessed she would simply need some time to get used to all this. Even when she began to appear softer and fuller, slowly losing the tone of her body to a thin layer of plush feminine flesh, the other wives didn’t worried much. After all, this suited Pooran well, and she could always train and exercise with them later on to return to her slim and lithe self before the truce day. But weeks turned into months without the young beauty showing any sign of slowing down her hedonistic lifestyle, or even deigning to follow the wives in their daily training. While all the eleven of them would often run around the palace, dance, climb, swim, and compete among themselves in friendly challenges of athleticism, Pooran simply napped in the palace, enjoyed a third collation, or watched the others from afar, laying on a pile of cushions. After a life spent running and struggling to escape city guards, violent gangs, and angry merchants, the former street urchin was puzzled about why someone would strain so pointlessly. Sure, the brides were all stunning, with their lean slender bodies, toned stomach, firm and shapely curves, and thin muscles dancing under their perfectly smooth skin, but why worry so much about a little plushness? Pooran was quite aware she had been gaining weight, but in her mind eyes, fat was synonym with prosperity and wealth, and was certainly not something that needed to be kept at bay with such fervour. Sure, her stomach was no longer flat, and it bounced lightly each time she walked a bit too fast, but her hips were fertile and soft, and her breasts were bigger and more voluptuous than any of the Sun Brides, even that Amazonian beauty how stood a whole head taller than the next tallest woman. She wasn’t ashamed by her change, even if she was slowly growing so plump and curvaceous her new clothes could have fitted twice her former left. If anything, this new heft made her feel powerful and self-assured, making her easier for her to adapt to this new amazing life in the heavens. The other brides didn’t wanted to harass their newest member, but they were all getting very worried for the chubby beauty, for they knew that the Divine Sun despised fat and excess, whom were associated with the lowly realm of the earth gods, while the mighty entity was from the heaven, and the highest, most perfect of them all. They tried to persuade Pooran to at least try to use the last few months before the truce day to lose some weight and sculpt her curves into a more athletic form. After all, a large bottom and thick womanly thighs could pass it there were strong muscles hidden under the plush flesh. Sadly, Poorah rejected their advice. She didn’t want to experience privation ever again, even if it was self-imposed, and wouldn’t scale down the size or number of her feasts. However, she didn’t ignore their warning. If, indeed, she risked losing her privileges if she was caught so plump by the Divine Sun, she needed a plan to avoid their wrath and enjoy another year of decadence and pleasure in the palace. The brides were surprised to see Pooran, at last, join them in their daily training. If she really wanted to lose the weight, it was sadly too little too late, for the Sun would join them by the next moon, and she was now the heaviest of them all, including the Amazon. Pooran didn’t even attempt to keep up with the brides, for she was slow, clumsy, and sluggish as she ran. Her enormous bosom would bounce ponderously in front on her, throwing off her balance and making her back sore after only a few minutes. Her belly would wobble endlessly; testing the fabric of her skirt, and making its seams creak in protest. Her thick womanly thighs would sway and rub at each step, hindering her speed and making the simple act of running quite difficult. Still, Pooran kept training at her own pace, testing her speed, evaluating her limits, and more importantly restoring some of her lost stamina. In fact, the training was so gentle that the gorgeous ex-thief keep gaining slowly during that month, but it didn’t bother her, for losing weight was never her goal. All she needed was a better knowledge of the palace layout, and a touch of endurance. The end of Pooran’s first year in the palace was finally upon her, and the Divine Sun returned from their year of conflict across the sky, eager to reunite with their brides and rest in their company. When the godly being came back, the servants led the radiant deity to each of the bride, one by one. The Divine Sun danced, feasted, sang, and played, and at last, when it was time to meet the last and most recent of the chosen beauties, the avian servants announced what Pooran had planned to entertain the palace’s owner: for she was young of hearth and of spirit, and for she knew nothing but the sneaky life of a city thief, she challenged the Divine Sun to a game of hide and seek, a playful jest to amuse her serious host. It had been her ruse all along, for Pooran knew the Divine Sun would be awful at such a game, for their bright shining halo announced their every move, and she could run to her next hideout anytime she feared getting discovered. Furthermore, spending only one day a year in the palace, the Divine Sun remembered little of its layout. With her guile and cleverness, even an overfed, plump, and clumsy Pooran easily outplayed the shining Sun in this contest, only fearing to get caught by the end of the two hours, for she was getting so out of breath from sneaking across the palace that she feared she might get caught. It was a close call, but she was saved by the holy duty, for the Darkness returned upon the sky, and the Divine Sun went back to fight against it, leaving an exhausted Pooran behind for another year of indulgence, nearly caught, but free to stay until the next truce. As they flew in the sky, the Divine Sun was amused and even proud of whom they pictured at this clever and innocent bride that just made a fool of them, unaware of the deceit at play, and the bulging curves that now swallowed the memory they cherished. Exalted by her victory, Pooran doubled down in her revelries as soon as the Divine Sun left them in the palace, ordering extra portions and spending days and nights eating with renewed desire, her hands exploring her stuffed belly and overflowing curves with fascination and amazement. She wanted to taste everything, to experience this paradise to the fullest, and she certainly did. The avian servants struggled to keep up with her demands, while the other wives watched in awe and horror as she quickly outgrew her clothes, as well as their memories of her former slender self. Born in privilege, all the Sun Brides had seen a few plump princesses, gluttonous priestesses, or overfed matrons in their noble circles, but Pooran was quickly leaving any of those rotund damsels in the dust with her hedonistic ways. Her expanding figure was losing any sense of definition, with her overabundant flesh now forming rolls across her thickened midsection, her back, and over her waistline. Over the weeks, her stomach was folding on itself and began to rest on her lap, filling all the space it could take until there was no more left. Her breasts, formerly voluptuous and abundant, were now obscenely large, to the point they started to limit her movements, forcing Pooran to reach across their expanse when feasting, and often swallowing any plump fruit she dropped on her cavernous cleavage. Her bottom was no longer round, but wide and mushy, akin to overfilled cushions, and it lifted her higher, making her appear somehow taller when she was seated, which meant most of the time. The Sun Brides knew she was doomed. As Pooran’s weight skyrocketed into obesity, as she began to compete with the plumpest of all mortals, there was no hope she could slim down to a shape acceptable to the Divine Sun in the time that was left before the day of truce. In fact, there was no hope she could get in shape for another round of hide and seek. More than three times the size of her thin past self, Pooran was more out of shape than ever, and her overflowing curves made sneaking impossible. Anytime she waddled across the palace, the overfed bride could be heard from the distance, for her thudding steps were echoing across the corridors, and so was the fleshly sound of her stomach bouncing against her upper thighs. If she ever attempted to jog, something that only happened when desert was announced, her enormous melons would join in the cacophony, slapping against the top roll of her overfed belly as she huffed and puffed toward her goal. Pooran was quite in denial that she was no longer in shape to perform the same ruse as the year before. The days the other brides found her naivety charming were long gone, and the general sentiment went from pity to loathing toward this ravenous glutton that ate herself into obesity in the span of only two years. However, her fall into decadence gave an idea to the eldest bride, a stunning blonde priestess whom had been craving more attention from the Divine. She devised a plan to use Pooran to gain more time with the Sun divinity, under the guise of helping the fool in her futile game. When the Divine Sun returned for the second day of truce, Pooran was led to the palace’s cellars, going down the small staircase under the guidance of the more mature bride. Squeezing her fleshy hips past the narrow doorway, the overfed young bride sat on a pile of cushion, hidden deep in the palace’s belly, and waited in the company of mead and wine. When at last the Divine Sun went for the expected game of hide and seek, the other bride, whom had dyed her hair and put on a veil, played the part of the younger Pooran, quickly getting caught on purpose by her deity. Feigning a genuine erotic game, she made the Divine Sun put on a blindfold, and had her way with the entity like she wanted, while Pooran slept in a drunken haze in the cellars, her rotund body taking most of the space. When the day was spent, the Sun Brides were once again left alone as their patron returned to their heavenly duel. Another year would pass until Pooran’s excesses would be at risk of being exposed. Without surprise, none of these events triggered any change in Pooran’s lifestyle for her third year spent in the solar palace. By this time, the enormous bride was no longer only eating to sustain her culinary curiosity, but to keep her ravenous appetite at bay. After years of stuffing, she was properly insatiable, her stomach turned into an abyssal pit that growled in anger after a mere hour without food. Hunger made an ironic comeback in Pooran’s life, but now she could feel it by merely not being full enough. She spent more time feasting than ever, often being handled by avian servants, or occasionally another bride out of morbid curiosity. She seldom left her personal chambers, only getting up for short walks toward the baths or the feasting hall, and she no longer jogged to be the first to get to the dessert, for anything faster than a slow lumbering waddle was now impossible. Pooran’s belly had grown even heavier since her time in the cellar, and it was now inching its way to her knees, while her buttocks were now so fat and well-padded she struggled to get up by her own power, so heavily anchored she was by their mass. Her breasts were beyond sanity, big enough to make an earth goddess blush from jealousy, and heavy enough that she struggled to lift one without using both hands. As the end of her third year neared, she surpassed mere obesity to turn into the fattest mortal in this time and age, an avatar of excess and opulence in world were hunger was assumed. In that context, the other Sun Brides should have been wiser than to assume they could keep Pooran hidden, but they drank the tale of the last truce stratagem and for them, the obese young damsel represented one less competitor to share the Divine Sun’s attention with. They convinced themselves they could keep fooling their host year after year, reproducing the ruse used by their senior and getting more time with their master. Their duplicity wouldn’t go unpunished. When the Divine Sun returned at last, after another year of endless combat, they wanted nothing more than to finally see the face of the young Pooran, the mysterious bride that became their favourite through her games and mysterious ways. Made impulsive by the long wait, turned restless after day dreaming of this reunion for months, the mighty entity ignored the protocol and asked to see Pooran right away, storming through the palace, majestic and terrible in their lust and love. The brides tried to distract them, for Pooran wasn’t yet hidden in the cellar, but there wasn’t much time left. While six brides were luring the Divine on false paths and dead ends, the five others were helping Pooran escape her chambers and trying to get her to her hideout. The enormous Sun Bride was now so immensely fat she struggled to move at any descent pace, and she was half-dragged, half-carried by the six toned woman. It was an odd spectacle to say the least, to see the athletic and slender ladies pushing on her mushy bum, pulling on her ham sized arms, and supporting her enormous curves by armful to help her waddle faster. The contrast was intense, for the five women together were barely outweighing the humongous butterball that was the youngest of them all. Huffing and puffing, and already menacing to reveal their position with her earth shaking steps, Pooran finally reached the staircase to the cellar, but as she was about to step into the passage, she was immediately stopped in her track as her thick love handles bit into the doorframe, far too plump to squeeze through. Confused, the five other brides watched as their blubbery comrade overflowed the narrow doorway, even her breasts slightly too big to fit in. One year prior, she managed to slip through, but she had grown enormously in these twelve months. Frantic, they tried to turn her sideways, to push her belly inside, to cram her inside with all the strength they could muster, but she was too fat, too deliciously obese to even get stuck in the doorway. She couldn’t even begin to fit through, and as she was shoved too harsh against the stone, she whimpered in pain, and soon, the Divine Sun dawned upon them, catching the group off guard as they stormed into the palace, solar flares appearing in the edge of their halo disappointment, wrath, and disgust. The Divine Sun immediately understood the charade they had been served, and their anger was great, immense, in proportion with the offending ingrate they saw flaying powerlessly in their light, and the eleven snakes that lied to cover this infamy. Light turned to fiery rays, and with every scream, fire spread through the palace, turning drapes and furniture to ash and ambers, and melting stone and glass like butter. The wives ran, all of them, fleeing the devastation their all brought upon themselves. Toned legs and nimble bodies quickly reached the edges of the burning solar palace, where avian servants waited in anguish. Knowing it was the end, the winged creatures decided to flee with the damsels, judging the gorgeous brides undeserving of such an awful fate as to burn alive in a god’s anger. By pairs, the bird-like creature grabbed the women by the arms, and with a flutter of wings, hauled them into the sky, slowly bringing down to the surface of the earth to safety and rescue. The creatures were strong and disciplined, and they quickly saved the eleven women, but as Pooran busted from the burning palace, red faced and buried in quivering flesh, the pair the remained exchanged a worried glance. Huffing and puffing, the cow sized beauty lumbered through the courtyard, her pendulous gut slapping against her knees each time she tried to move faster. Her swaying breasts throwing her out of balance, she collapsed on hands and knees near the edge of the floating palace, her decadent stomach spreading under her body, so fat it hung low enough to rest heavily on the stone pavement. Slowly, the solar paradise tipped, sending Pooran slipping into the sky below, unable to catch her fall with her fat laden limbs. With a scream of terror, she felt her obese form plummet through the emptiness, while the two avian servants dived to attempt to catch her fall. Talon like feet grasped her plump wrists, and the pair expended their wings to slow her fall and hopefully gain some lift. Sadly, what was enough to fly a slender damsel couldn’t suffice to carry a woman of Pooran’s girth, and no matter how much the avian creatures struggled, they couldn’t slow her fall, and with a sad cry of powerlessness, they let her go, falling through the sky toward the arid expanse of a desert. As the beautiful and enormous girl fell to her doom, her fear and despair attracted the attention of many gods, whom couldn’t help but feel ashamed by the Sun’s outburst. The first to come to Pooran’s aid was the Great Wind, whom unleashed their mightiest upward gust in an attempt to save the decadent mortal, whose only crime had been to enjoy life too fully. Sadly, even the strongest wing was too weak to fight the results of Pooran’s three years of revelries, and the sky god backed away, saddened. The second god to come to Pooran’s aid was the Gentle Rain, whom clouds were of velvet softness. They attempted to weave a cushion of cloud under the girl’s rotund form, but she busted trough like an arrow through soft clay, her overfed body too plump and heavy for such a diaphanous mattress. The Rain was surprised, for they often welcomed mortal on cloudy beds, not unlike the solar palace. Yet, this poor girl was simply too heavy for the fragile sky cloth. At least, as her fall drew nearer to the earth, Pooran caught the eye of the Desert God, cursed by the Divine Sun into an arid land unkind to all life. For aeons, the Desert languished the curves and folds adorning the bodies of their kin from fertile lands. They were earth gods, yet the Desert was no more fertile than the sky above. The cursed god saw in Pooran’s body their dreams come true. Her body was a topography of dunes, valleys, hills, and canyons, like an homage composed to the Desert’s glory. She brought with her lifetimes of bounty; so much abundance couldn’t be gathered in the arid sands, even in centuries. She was a blessing, and the Desert God wasn’t going to let her plummet to her death. With a loving hand, the land itself reached for the sky, gigantic fingers and a titanic arm forming a gentle slope of silk-like sand. Pooran landed on the opened palm, and slowly rolled down the divine arm, until her fall was caught, softly, gently, into a bath of sand. It is said that Pooran cried of relief once she realized that she made it alive from the solar palace, and that her tears filled the depression formed by her landing, creating the first of all the oasis. The former Sun Bride was then embraced by the Desert God as their sole spouse, and her abundance lifted the curse cast by the Divine Sun, bringing life again in the dunes, and especially in the islands of plenty that were the oasis. To these days, Pooran is no longer known by her mortal name, but instead as the Fruitful Oasis, a fertility goddess worshipped by any traveller fearing the Sun’s wrath.

Here the story I have started writing not long ago. English is not my native language so exuse me if something is wrong about my style or grammar or punctuation. The outset is based on "1001 night" story, but in original I found it rather dull and sometimes full of cringe (like killing slaves or servants just for fun and so on), so I changed the setting into more "general fantasy". Please, give me some positive feedback if you like my writing. Chapter 1. Long ago, in a hot land of Kimette, that existed between deserts and fertile coasts there lived an enormously rich King named Shakhriar. Gods of luck blessed him with prosperity, and one of the main sources of happiness were his sons – a total 14 men. Some were mighty warlords, others became successful politicians, but above all stood his favorite son – Kamar. Kamar was blessed with incredible beauty and handsomeness, which made everyone around young Prince adore him since his childhood. Kamar was also obviously smart and clever, but after puberty he lost interest to books and science because of discovering the world of sensual pleasures. At fourteen he seduced several daughters and wives of King’s loyal counselors and warlords, so Shakhriar imprisoned his beloved son in a luxurious palace with a vast harem of low-born concubines and a full staff of servants. Kamar didn’t show any interest in leaving his golden cage, as soon as every his whim was fulfilled as soon as possible by worshipping horde of his staff, whose will was bonded by Kamar’s charisma more than by his royalty. As Kamar got eighteen years old, his father had made up a plan to form an alliance with neighbouring empire of Ekimak through marriage between Kamar and one of daughters of the High Lord of Ekimak. One day Shakhriar called for his son to tell him the news about his future in front of the Royal Council. When Kamar had arrived to his father's palace, everyone was quite shocked. Prince changed very much during last three years. His handsomeness progressed and blossomed, even though it seemed hardly possible. Facial features became even more well-defined in their perfection, his eyes radiated charisma and his body and raven black hair smelled the best perfume that was available in the world. He arrived to the council on the giant palanquin, pulled by twenty servants. There sat the Prince surrounded by three of his favorite odalisques, also gifted by nice appearance. Their abundant plentiful flesh was cowered by almost no clothes. One of the girls was sitting on his lap. '' Come forth my son, I will tell you that I have arranged your future,'' the King declared. The concubine had jumped away from the Prince's lap, and Kamar came to the King and bowed. People in the Council hall gasped in surprise, when realized that Prince had become quite a heavy young man during three years in his personal palace. He has grown wide and heavy belly, and his body under silk gown was soft and untoned, as soon as for last years he was exerting himself only in bedroom. ''I have arranged your marriage, my son,'' the King continued, ''so get ready in a month and head to Ekimak Capital. There you will become husband of beautiful Regina, elder daughter of High Lord Gregor.'' ''Marriage?'' Kamar frowned, ''I am happy the way I live. What make you think I will be loyal to one wife after a heaven full of lovebirds?'' Kamar pointed at his buxom concubines, who seemed stressed under lusting stares of men of Council. The King frowned. “You must remember that everything you have is bought by me, and I can take everything back. You will become a good husband to Lady Regina because you are a loyal son and because you are grateful for me for the heaven I have organized for you for last three years.” “And what if I say no?” asked Kamar impatiently. ''Then I will take you into custody and put you under arrest in the Tower of Whispers. When you will think about your behavior and make a right decision, you will be returned and sent to Ekimak,'' King Shakhriar answered. “Girls, this night I will show you the Tower of Wispers, it will become our new home for a while!'' the Prince addressed to his concubines, '' evening feast awaits!'' Plump girls smiled and clapped their chubby hands. ''Home is a place where my sweet Prince waits for me, '' proclaimed one of them. '' Kamar will stay there alone,'' shouted the King, ''and make sure guards give him no treats – only soldier food. He is fat enough for a man.'' *** The Tower of Wispers was ancient and secluded place. It was built long ago before dynasty of Shakhriar conquered the land where it stands. It was empty and uninhabited most of the time thus its minimalistic interior seemed terribly uncomfortable to the Prince, who spent his life in luxury and excess. Soldier's dinner made of water, food and bread was eaten long ago, and now Kamar struggled to fall asleep. As soon as he managed to do it, the old dry well in his locked room shone slightly. Chapter 2. The fine-looking woman with raven-black hair and slightly blue skin levitated up to the Kamar's room from the well. She looked around 30 years old, and wore rich oriental outfit. Her name was Maimune and she was a genie queen who built and inhabited this tower many centuries ago. “Some guests again. Let's see, with whom will I play for next several months... or years. “ She removed the blanket from sleeping Kamar and examined his naked physique for some time. ''What a handsome mortal,'' she proclaimed after looking at his face, ''did I pleased the gods for something?” She kissed Kamar and he awakened. Prince was quite shocked to discover himself naked in front of blue-skinned woman, whom he had never seen before. How could she get into the tower through locked doors? “Who are you? A witch? A mirage of desert? What do you want from me, woman?” Maimune didn't expect a reaction like that, so she enchanted Kamar's sleeping and made it unnaturally deep, so even crumbling of the Tower wouldn't wake him up. Then she magically summoned her friend named Dakhna – another genie woman, who served Maimune for centuries and was her close counselor and keeper of her secrets. Maimune revealed Kamar to Dakhna, and the latter bit her lip. “Well, I see someone is into really big boys, “ Dakhna teased her Queen, pointing at Kamar's pale gut. “More like into cute faces, ” answered Maimune, being confused. “Don't justify your tastes to anyone, for the last years it's okay for mortals to grow so wide,” Dakhna said, “I often fly above their kingdoms, and know the things. When the life is quiet and humans know no wars and famine, men and women of rich families since very young age grow pampered and overfed. By the way, in a kingdom of Izz lives one especially cute princess named Budur. When I first saw her, I thought she's the most perfect human being, her beauty is absolute – you must just see her thick black hair, thin nose, full lips and curvy soft physique. Her father Basil, the king of Izz, loves her very much and wants Budur to stay with him forever. However King's counselors wish him to use daughter to arrange political marriage. So he asked them to wait for one year. When the year will end, If some man wants to marry her, he must just carry her on hands from the Palace gates to the temple. Not a big problem for a noble young warrior. But there is one 'but' - King Basil always knew that his daughter is a lazy glutton and possesses quite a sweet tooth. For a year she will be surrounded in the palace by the sweetest and the fattest treats possible. When I saw her last time, she was sitting at the table, and the serving maids refilled her plates with pastries, cakes and cream jelly, and she washed it down with a thick milk.” “Sound like she has some meat on her bones,” - jiggled Maimune. “Indeed, “ answered Dakhna, “when she was locked in her chambers for the first day, her hourglass body wasn't very different from other noble girls of her age. Her body was soft and flabby, as she never exercised in her life, thighs consisted of jiggly chubbyness, buttocks were supple and thick. Muscles seemed to not exist on her body, hidden under the layer of softness. That was three month ago, who knows how she looks now?” “How do you think, who of these two mortals is more beautiful?” - said Maimune. “I don't know, let's find out, “ answered Dakhna and flew away through the window. Dakhna returned in several minutes bearing something heavy on hands. As she stepped closer to the light, it became obvious that her burden is an unconscious young girl. She carefully placed her captive near sleeping Kamar. Then both genies looked closely at Kamar and Budur. “You know, they are equal in their loveliness and charm,” commented Maimune, “they are like two moons in one night sky.” “However, I think, there is a way to test them. Let's awaken one after another and see what will they do: if one will restrict lust and not touch another, but another will succumb to desire on his or her turn, that shows us that the first is greater in beauty. “ “Sounds like a plan,” Maimune agreed, “or like a fun.” Genies enchanted Budur's deep sleep and awakened Kamar. He looked around and noticed the sleeping girl. To his relief, her skin's color was normal, not blue. “Hello? Who are you? How did you get there? Are you my bride Regina of Ikemak my father told me about?” Kamar said quietly. There was no answer. “Why are you playing sleeping? Maybe you are sent here by my father as some weird test?” Kamar continued, “If not, I invite you to my palace after I leave this prison. You will be my favorite, I promise.” Silence. “I know some good way to make you stop your roleplaying!” Prince grinned, unwrapped girl's dressing gown, moved her legs apart and lifted up her hanging belly flab with his hand. Red heaven gate greeted him with alluring aroma. Kamar kneeled, moved head lower and started to work with his tongue as passionately as never before in his life. Lying plump young lady didn't react at all. “Hm, it seems you are really sleeping, sweetheart,” Kamar frowned, “I will ask about you tomorrow.” A moment later the Prince noticed, that cleavage between girl's abundant bosoms and upper roll of her belly were dotted with drops of sauces, sugar and chocolate. “At least I will have late supper, “ smiled Kamar and licked crumbs of food from his beautiful guest's body. When he was ready to fall asleep, he noticed a masterful ring on her finger with some engravings in unknown language. “I can swear that jewels like that are unique in the world, so every competent jeweler will help me to track you through this ring.” Kamar removed her ring with a great labor, as it was made and put on when the girl's fingers were not so swollen. When both humans fell asleep again, Dakhna said: “Well, the male failed the test. Now let's see what will Princess do.” Genie women enchanted sleeping of Kamar and awakened Budur. Chapter 3. Princess sat up and looked around. She didn't notice that she was relocated, because all her attention was caught by stunningly handsome young man, who slept near her. “Dad! I know you hear me, “ Budur shouted into darkness. “I expected some gift from you for me being a good girl and following a plan, but this... this is too much” Budur's eyes devoured sleeping Kamar and radiated lust. She continued after minute of silence. “I mean it's a great present, this boy is so cute! May I keep him as long as I stay with you?” The Princess crawled up on her haunches to Kamar, caressed his wide flabby belly and kissed Kamar's lips. “Wake up stallion, your mistress wishes a ride!” she addressed to the sleeping Prince. Of cause, she didn't know that this boy is equal to her in his royalty. “Don't pretend to be sleeping, or else...” In the darkness, Dakhna whispered to Maimune, “Oh my, this girl's curves have... just like blown up! Did you see her belly when she was on all fours? It nearly touched the floor in its thickest part!” “Was she much different last time you have seen her three month ago?” “Yes. She was just pale and flabby noble young girl, who spent most of her life sleeping and eating, but nothing special. And look at her now - she is just a pagan fertility goddess and she's not even twenty yet! But you know what - it's strange, but every added pound seems to make her look prettier.” Meanwhile the Princess tried to understand, what to do with her unconscious 'new toy'. As the King's daughter, she was very limited in communication with men, and a great number of staff was in charge for her chastity and virginity. She has read some love stories, but of cause she knew next to nothing about process of sex and how to behave in front of her naked beloved. Suddenly she noticed Kamar's small medallion around sleeping prince's neck and took it from him. She put it on and hid her new jewel in a rift between her bosoms. As she did that, she called for someone called Aisha, and after no response became a bit annoyed. “Stupid handmaid! Where does she sleep when I need her special massage most of all?” With these words she leaned back against the wall and started touching herself, while looking at Prince Kamar's physique. She discovered that her pubic hair is still wet (in fact, because of the Prince's saliva), but failed to explain what has happened. Red and exhausted after several orgasms, she fell asleep near Kamar, with a right hand hidden between lower belly fold and abundant thigh. Maimune sighed in darkness. “They both failed the test, as they were ready to mate each other as soon as they had seen each other for the first time. I must admit, they are equal in their beauty after all. The morning will come soon, so return her plump Majesty to her chambers.” “Yes, my queen,” replied Dakhna, “by the way, do you wield polymorph magic?” “No” “Your fault! Now I know, what type of girls does your Prince found alluring. Tomorrow I will return here in guise of Princess Budur and make love to your Prince Charming until he burns all his belly fat in passion.” With these words Dakhna wrapped Budur's pampered body into blanket and flew away to Izz. However, Dakhna didn't know, that her lustful dream wouldn't come to reality.

Long time lurker here. Just a short idea I had, about a fantasy dungeon-style trap. The room was dark, the better to hide the thick layer of wrappers and fast-food containers littering the floor. The coffee table was stacked high with empty pizza boxes, and empty 2-liters and beer cans filled the trash can. The television provided the room’s only light, illuminating the figure filling the couch before it. Passed out, head lolling back on the back cushions was an obese dark elf woman with pure white hair and flawless black skin. She looked like a portrait of pure gluttony, every inch of her body rounded and soft, plump hands resting atop the massive boulder of flab that was her stomach. Her vast thighs spread wide, it spilled between them like a waterfall of ebony flab, pushing past the seat cushions, quivering slightly with her every breath. Her bloated haunches spread across two cushions, and breasts larger than her head rested atop her bare gut, barely contained by a food-stained bra, her only piece of clothing. By all appearances, this was a lifelong glutton, someone who had never done more exercise than lift a fork to her mouth. She was completely unrecognizable as Meris Trelayne, the feared mercenary warrior known as the Cold Shadow. Violet eyes slowly blinked open. Still mostly asleep she grunted, reaching up to scratch the surface of her gut, ebon rolls of blubber jiggling even at the light touch. Her eyes flickered completely open, and she grunted louder, angrily, scowling as awareness returned to her round face, then discomfort. The drow belched explosively, once then twice more, and growled with weary anger as her belly began to churn and groan, demanding to be filled. The obese woman spent a few moments seeming to shake her head in denial, eyes squeezed shut. Finally, she heaved her fattened body up to standing after a few false starts, seeming as much reluctant as hampered by her bulk. Flabby body quaking with every step, Maris waddled towards the kitchen, kicking debris out of the way. "Got to stop..." Maris mumbled, then winced as she caught her bloated reflection in a mirror. "Getting too damn fat... got to..." Her husky voice continued in this vein as the flabby elf wobbled up to the kitchen door and hesitated, wavering as her vast gut audibly roared. "C'mon, you porky bitch... just stop stuffing your face for one damn..." Maris's vocalized diatribe didn't stop her from filling the table with unhealthy food from the overflowing pantry, then plumping her massive ass into a study chair set before it with a grunt of mixed relief and frustration. With a huff of defeat the drow began stuffing herself, mumbling more self-recriminations through bulging cheeks. The gluttonous repast continued for what seemed like hours, the drow steadily inhaling enough for a family of five. Eventually the table was empty, the drow slumped back in her chair, breathing shallowly and in her pose from the couch again, belly visibly rounder than before even given its beginning size. Eventually, Maris struggled to her feet again, painfully bloated and still huffing and puffing, dripping sweat and exhausted by her own gluttony. The fattened drow belched thunderously again, wiping at her food-stained mouth half-heartedly. "Damn...*urp* can't stop..." she gasped, leaning back like a pregnant woman and cradling her gut, now heavier than ever. "He better… get this open soon..." were her last mumbled words as she staggered back to the couch. Behind her, the pantry refilled, food appearing from thin air as the detritus vanished from the again-spotless kitchen. The piles in the other room increased a bit as she wobbled past them; the floor had been clean once, the only way she could mark time's passage. As the drow flopped back onto the divot her vast rump had dug into the couch, she belched again, completely spent by her 'labors'. As her eyes flickered shut, drifting back to sleep, her sweaty, food-splattered skin and hair became shining and clean again, all except for her straining bra, which soon threatened to join the ruined pile of armor, torn clothing, and abandoned weapons before her. On the television, the smirking face of a long dead wizard waves at her as she falls asleep, barely eliciting an angry grunt from the drow now after so many times. As she began to snore, her belly deflated slightly as the rest of her swelled; as always, the warrior woman would wake again soon to find herself visibly fatter than before, and helpless to resist beginning the cycle again. Maris Trelayne was stuck in a particularly strange wizard's trap, and her last thought before the latest cycle ended was a vague hope her damn wizard was close to a solution. **** "Well, have you gotten it open? Maris has been in there a while..." The young, handsome wizard scratched his chin knowledgeably in response to the short, cheeky looking halfling rogue's question. "Almost sure I have it now..." he replied. In the back of his head, he thought about how the haughty warrior had ignored his warning and picked up the strange little puzzle-box he was studying. Serve her right if he let her learn a lesson by taking his time... No, he couldn't do that. Maris may be arrogant, but she was a good companion - if far too thin to attract his interest in other ways, like he thought she'd been unsubtly hinting recently. "Maybe this will have changed her for the better..." he mumbled, beginning the counterspell to open the trap. At the least, being humbled by a little box like this might soften her attitude a bit.

hey everyone, long time lurker finally trying my hand at story writing! Had this idea kicking around my head for a while and finally put it to paper so to speak. it's a mix of a few things in popular culture with my own spin on it. Hope you enjoy, but give me some feedback either way! If you like it I have a few more stories in this world I'm considering. https://www.deviantart.com/spickspuck/art/Serving-the-Lords-906577832

Xmas fetish/kink video idea: it's the Nightmare Before Xmas Sandy Claws, is actually a woman, who was dressed as a sexy Santa for a party, when she was kidnapped by those trick or treaters; Lock, Shock and Barrel. As if grabbing the Easter bunny at first wasn't enough of a mistake. This one at least looks the part! A plump and heavy Sandy Claws! When we see her next she's tied-up in Mistress Oogie Boogie's Lair. As big as she is, Mistress Oogie wants a much larger meal. Mistress Oogie begins to serenade her with her Oogie Boogie song. Mistress Oogie moves around Sandy inspecting her up and down; grabbing, pinching and shaking her plump body. Taunting her. Seducing her. "And if you aren't shakin' there's something very wrong. Cause this may be the last time you hear the Boogie Song. Whoa...." (On every 'whoa' in the song, Mistress Oogie is prompting Sandy to open wide and stuffs her mouth with a handful of some cookie, cake, cream, dessert.) More and more of Sandy is bulging out of her already skimpy Xmas outfit. Oogie continues to feed and tease Sandy. "And now, with your permission, I'm going to do my stuff." Oogie declares, as if all Sandy has been stuffed with so far isn't even the main stuffing. "What are you going to do?" - Sandy mumbles with a mouth full of cream and cookies, eyes wide curious as what more could come. "I'm gonna do the best I can!" Oogie responds gleefully. Mistress Oogie grabs more treats and hand over hand begins to shove them into Sandy's mouth. "Release me fast or you will have to answer for this heinous act" Sandy breathlessly begs for her outfit to be undone, it's so tight after all these treats, but Mistress Oogie isn't done.... "It's hopeless, you're finished? You haven't got a prayer. 'Cause I'm Mistress Oogie Boogie and you ain't going nowhere." Mistress Oogie takes her to a new position. Sandy being tied-down in a seated position, belly and breasts nearly bursting out, Mistress Oogie Boogie isn't done yet. She's a gambling woman. She rolls her dice, they bouncing right off of Sandy's jiggly body. "Seven! Looks like it's Oogie turn to boogie now...1.2.3.4..5,6,7." On each count Oogie squirts some whipped cream onto Sandy's breast and belly. Mistress Oogie is topping off her snack before she digs in. "This isn't happening.." Sandy pleads. "Ashes to ashes and dust to dust...I'm feeling weak WITH HUNGER! One more roll of the dice ought to do it!" She rolls her dice at Sandy once more, they land in her cleavage "Snake eyes?!" Oogie hip bumps into Sandy causing the dice to roll over... "Eleven! Looks like I won the jackpot!" Oogie gives a long squirt of the whipped cream into Sandy's mouth, her outfit finally gives and exposes her fully stuffed figure "Bye bye Doll Face...." ~ Fin

Not sure if there's enough WG inside to post it here but let's see how it goes. *** I need to focus. I don’t know what I’m doing in this ruined tower or even who I am. That repugnant creature, Gnarl calls me an “Overlord”, lord of Evil. What a joke. I can’t even properly interrogate it, my voice was all but robbed from me. Occasional phrases escaping my mouth sound like scraping metal and result in pain. Still, they, those minions gave me armour, shelter and food, as disgusting as it was. The axe in my hand… it seems familiar and Gnarl’s instructions, a clear set of goals are bring clarity. But not enough, that’s why I’m trying to note everything down in this derelict tome. I don’t recognize my own handwriting, but this thing should prevent me from missing something and I'll start to remember, given time. Let’s see how it goes… *** … yesterday I conquered two villages, slaughtered many sheep and hobbits with the finale being the death of a Hero. What started as a series of menial tasks from Gnarl turned into a regular battle against Halflings. That was good, as foggy as my past is, muscles remembered. As I was swinging my axe sticky with blood surrounded by the sound of battle I felt strange familiarity and comfort. At the same time, something was wrong. I hold no regrets over my actions, the ferocity of little folk. But that was the problem, the moment I saw them I recognized their kind and their action, this bloodthirst was wrong, against everything my mind was suggesting. Some of them were twisted, unrecognizable… The Hero, Marvin was bloated, fat, covered in disgusting mucus halfling and one bigger than myself. The fight against the corrupted hobbit wasn’t hard, but frustrating. His blubber was able to withstand many strikes and once he fallen… I rather not remind myself of the sludge he transformed into. Strangely enough, instead of satisfaction or disgust, I felt… sadness. The rest of the village surrendered, even the armed guards who minutes before had been attacking us like a bunch of zealots dropped weapons with fright in their eyes, their movements were sluggish like they had just woken up. It was also when I saw civilians – women, weaker males and children, they were rugged and thin, looking at me with a mix of fear and hope, strangely enough. I didn’t know what was happening and I had no desire to deal with this at that moment. I felt tired, very tired. After barking several orders to them and leaving some minions to… “oversee” them I went back to the human village. Despite his flattery, Archie was managing to hide his fear and discomfort well, I have to hand it to him. He almost immediately swore fealty of his village to me. We both knew that the mayor had little choice, but he managed to voice several "requests". Some of them I intend to meet. After returning to the Tower I went straight to bed, fortunately, I had managed to scourge some food decent from Marvin's kitchen so I don't need to eat whatever gruel, the minions are making. Today, I returned to both villages. Archie was managing quite well, the villagers after a good rest and meal seemed to be physically reinvigorated, repairing homes and tending to fields. I was surprised to hear that they were at no risk of famine. It would seem that more than stolen supplies they just needed to be free of raids and constant pillaging, even if they hadn't realized it. The fields were ridiculously fertile, crops were growing fast, unnaturally so. Livestock mirrored it. Stems of grain were noticeably longer than the day before, young lambs now looked almost fully matured, but were joined by a few newborns. At the same time, no animal seemed old or sick. I managed to question Gnarl about it. It would seem the surrounding area was saturated with natural magic which was the reason for this defeat of harvest. The area around hobbit village was as bountiful, which further begs the question of how much food Marvin and his rabble devoured daily. The burrows and houses seemed in slightly better shape than we had left them in and Halflings were more coherent. I was approached by an elder, who supported himself with a cane. He begged for the life of his people, explaining that that part of his people was either corrupted by the dead hero or were essentially slaves. He was promising servitude and compliance. Still, his voice and posture were calm and hobbits presented themselves better than human villagers. I accepted most of his terms, of course in a manner that made sure they knew their life depends on my mood. The damages were more severe than in the first village, but Halflings had bigger supplies of the workforce, food and materials. Not to mention unnaturally fertile fields. I left them with a few minions and took a small supply of food for myself. I also warned them that soon I would need men to help with the Tower. And cooks, they had an overabundance of those and as I had found out we had a big kitchen in the tower. Derelict but saveable. The chance for some edible food was probably the most positive thing to come out of this mess. *** Rose.... When a month after taking over two villages and surrounding areas, when I set out towards the crimson afterglow in the sky, I wasn't expecting to return with... woman. There we encountered raiders tainted with magic, fleeing peasants and monsters from beyond, but ultimately I feel like she is the only one worth mentioning in depth. She's different and I don't mean just her elegant appearance and manners, so different from the female villagers I encountered so far. First, she invited herself into the Tower, as if she owned it. Gnarl assumed I got myself a "mistress" and too, seemed to be impressed and amused. I wasn’t opposing. I'm not looking for a sexual release, let alone for a partner, but the situation was.... interesting. Despite her nonchalance, commanding presence and very, very good control I saw it when she had drawn my attention solely to herself and away from peasants. I saw rare and short hints of fear, but no hesitation. I decided to let things run their course. The next days brought the next revelations. Rose decided to begin organizing matters in the tower and in conquered areas. She began making projects of structures for governing and maintaining Order. I quickly learned that she had a fixation with Order, clear, but fortunately not obsessive. Of course, despite her bravado, every idea was first brought to my attention for acceptance. That was wise of her and I had to admit her ideas had a lot of merits. Sometimes, I needed some time to fully grasp them, but the ginger always helped me understand. Also despite the clever wording and realization, it didn't escape me that those projects would benefit my "subjects" in the end. I accepted most of them, so far. I like to think I'm pragmatic and fortunately, my new regime is still ruthless enough to befit The Overlord. That's another interesting fact about Rose. As long as something can be used to impose Order, and manage it, is fully accepted by the young woman. She isn't blind to minions' foul appearance or behaviour, but it's overshadowed by their sheer utility. Similarly with me. She hides it well, but still is clearly intimidated by me, but can't help working with me, because I'm not unreasonable toward her ideas and have the means to realise them. All this to enforce Order. I think she believes it to be the most beneficial thing for people. Despite being maintained by Lord of Evil. There were also more subtle and personal changes. Having somebody to talk with, well Rose was mostly talking, I limit myself to grunts of various kinds, only rarely I force myself to respond with words. I would like to, very much so, but speaking is still hard and painful. Still, the ginger spoke without grovelling or needless flattery, almost, and about thing interesting or at least useful. It's refreshing. Very much so. Enough that soon we started having meals together. My appearance put her off at first, not that I blame her, I look like somebody tore my skin into irregular strips and then melded back together, but surprisingly quickly Rose got used to it. I listen to her as she is explaining the newest assignments, numbers and the state of the world far away while we dine. As I learned Rose enjoys good food. It would seem that renovating the kitchen and taking several hobbit cooks was a good idea after all. The woman eats less than me, but it wasn’t saying much, then again she probably hadn't had access to decent fare for the last weeks. Despite her quite voluptuous figure, her dress was a bit loose in a few places when we had first met. I don't skimp on food for her, I even ordered some hobbits to bake and serve her sweets while she worked. The free room in her garments is quickly being filled back. Similar to other utilities, her chambers are more luxurious than mine. The Overlord or not, I prefer that somebody that useful, who works closely to me, have as many reasons to stay loyal as reasonably possible. That and Rose was clearly a Lady of high status, despite that she was capable and not afraid to take matters into her own hands. That’s why I couldn't help but feel respect for her. Of course, she thinks herself superior to the common man, but rather due to her intelligence than blood. It shows through the cracks, occasionally. Also, she was probably the most enjoyable addition to my life since my awakening. Her good mood affects me, despite her still somewhat questionable loyalty. I must be careful not to betray it too much. Rose is very much aware of her assets. Then again what do I really have to lose? I need to sleep, tomorrow we head out to the elven forest and I cannot help but feel unease. *** This week has me grinding my teeth in fury. We encountered a second Hero, Oberon Greenhaze, his body twisted more than Marvin's. Only his upper half remained, the rest of him is fused with a mighty tree, its roots sapping juices and magic from the land while being harder than steel. We managed to sever them in several weak points, but our true obstacle proved to be fairly shallow water. Minions have no ability to swim. That alone irritated me, but every time I look upon disfigured elf or hear his pained moan I feel my blood boil. I do not know why. Fortunately, we're continuing to steadily develop areas around the Tower and even began to plan rebuilds of castle Spree. Most importantly the main structure of the Tower was now fully rebuilt with added modifications and new areas according to mine and Rose's plans being constructed as I write. Rose proved to be able to magically link and speak through my helmet along with Gnarl just fine. I feared it would be distracting, but the ginger's comment proved to be a good counterbalance to ancient minion nagging. For better or worse, I believe we're warming up to each other. I rarely maintain the overly threatening facade, that I put up for others, when we are alone. Too much effort. Rose is now less insistent about shoving how useful and smart she is. Good because it was sometimes as annoying as villagers grovelling. Also, she sometimes slips about more personal details, for instance, I learned about her talent for arcane, inherited from her absent father. It is... nice. There is also a certain observation that I recently made about her. Her dress began to be dangerously tight around her bottom, chest and her middle which is now visibly rounded. When last time I saw her in wear that revealed her cleavage, the soft flesh was pouring out of it and yesterday I come by her chambers to discuss something I heard how she struggled to clothe herself. I didn't peek. It would seem that hearty, hobbit cooking and unchanging appetite after surviving the attack were having is affecting her. Or perhaps it was all those pastries that I have cooks baking for her... I must admit that all of it has... an effect on me. Rose is a very attractive young woman, to me much more than, hardly ugly, female villagers, which I had to admit the day we meet. I made sure to guard myself in that regard, but her softened figure seems to set something in me ablaze. Also, our shared meals are increasingly enjoyable, I didn’t take notice of it a first, but watching the ginger devour a meal suited for a grown man, with cutlery and implacable manners, is very… stimulating? ... today I stopped by the kitchen and asked cooks to try more varied pastries and meals as well as be even more attentive to the lady. Well "asked", even if by now they know I'm not the "shoot the messenger" person and I keep a leash on minions unless given correct reason, they steel experience a hefty dosage of fear at my sight. Good If all goes well, Rose won't be able to fit into any of her garments. Of course, I provide her with new ones, perhaps one on a loose side. I AM the Overlord, I'm supposed to abuse my power. *** The last days were better, marginally. Gnarl with Rose's help managed to locate and connect to teleport near the area where blue, amphibian minions were along with their nest. We landed on the outskirts of Haven's Peak, a large, heavily fortified city, which used to be connected by road to castle Spree. I can say with certainty that I hate undead. Minions are filthy, but most of them aren't actively rotting from the inside. And there's no glory in fighting forcefully reanimated corpses with no intelligence or those who just want to be put to rest. Then I learned there was an undead plague in the city, which is locked down. Which was fine, I had no desire to head there before dealing with Greenhaze. Then I learned it was being governed by The Paladin, Sir William the Black and things changed. Every time I hear this name I feel overwhelming bloodlust at this upright fucker. No, I still don't remember, but I do know that I hate this prick, and I'm now pretty sure I knew at least most of the Seven Heroes. Then we encountered a succubus. She didn't fit into the swamp, between the undead and locked city. But I don't believe she was there by accident, especially as we later ran into more of her kind. I intend to find out what is happening. Still, I was glad. The female seductress was a proper challenge in combat and I do admit that her appearance was a nice change of pace as well. At the back of my head, I felt Rose disapproving, but I ignored it, despite Gnarl's insistence and our increasing familiarity I made sure to keep my distance. We managed to get a blue hive, those minions, despite being the frailest so far, are insanely useful. And probably the cleanest. Then we proceeded to scour and secure the area. This was hard as every now and then a new group of undead was raising from the graves or from infected refugees, with occasional encounters with succubi. Even harder, as everything inside me had been screaming to get inside the city and twist William's neck. Being reasonable can be hard at times. On the upside, despite the ruthless measures I implemented to contain the infection in the refugee camp, people there already swore fealty to me. It would seem a Lord of the Evil who did something was preferable to a vain Hero. I cannot express how well it makes me feel. Another pleasant surprise come during yesterday's strategy session with Rose. For days before her clothes were visibly tight, constraining her movements and even breathing. But for all her talk of order and intelligence, Rose was a quite prideful woman and in this case in denial. But yesterday, when she leaned down, towards the map, her dress ripped, in several places at once — namely her bottom, sides and upper back. Rose immediately straightened, but this sudden move was a mistake, as it made several smaller rips into a few big ones, almost completely exposing her back and sides to the word. And there is quite a lot to be exposed. To my disappointment, her bountiful bosom remained fully covered, same with her round belly. It was the first time I saw Rose blushing and stuttering in embarrassment and I almost forgot about the Paladin. I did make an effort to appear to be looking away and even offered to get her seamstress. Grunting something affirmative and keeping strips of fabric in a place with her hands Rose quickly retreated. Still, I managed to catch multiple sights of supple flesh. That was a good day, interrupted strategy session notwithstanding. I managed to catch the seamstress, one of the former residents of castle Spree and one of few humans that were now living in new areas of the Tower. Capable, but terrified of me. Conveying that her Lady needed help resizing her dresses and probably several new ones were hard and painful, for both parties. Subtly ordering her to make them a tad oversized even more so. My throat seemed to be on fire for the rest of the day, worth it. I already saw the glimpse of the beautiful ginger in an alerted dress that fit comfortably and still had room to spare. I'm Overlord, but I'm also a man enjoying life's simple pleasures. And the next days promise more enjoyable experiences. We secured the area around Haven's Peak, hopefully, by tomorrow William's head will be mine. *** So... William and the upper echelons of the city were being controlled by the Queen of succubi and her cohorts. Why am not I surprised? We managed to make our way through the sewers and while I'm not some dainty noble, I spent after an hour in the newly constructed bath just to get the stench out. Heaven's Peak had seen better days. The "safe" areas were being patrolled by William’s knights, who despite different clothes, have a stench of foul magic akin to those invaders from castle Spree. On the other side of barricades roamed undead and near Citadel occasionally flew succubi. We successfully scouted and secured a large portion of the city and I just become an object of religious worship. Along the way, Rose admitted that William's wife-to-be was her sister. It was clear that her opinion of sibling was bad, to say the least. If my sister would decide to marry Sir William, I too would be ashamed of them. Still, amongst insults to her sister, Velvet there were notes of concern. Then we found an inn, which doubled up as a secret whorehouse, which doubled up as a succubi hideout where their queen was residing. Since my awakening in the Tower I hadn't had such a fulfilling battle. It was glorious, not to mention beneficial, the death of their queen left sex-fiends in chaos and stopped the active spread of the magical plague. Soon we march on the Citadel, where resides William and Rose's sister. My “advisor”, when not speaking about matters at hand, is making subtle inquiries about the "incident" and her appearance. Every time I nod and grunt to confirm that she’s still attractive, but carefully avoid questions about her weight... probably will have to deal with it, sooner than later. *** I cannot describe how satisfying it was to split William's torso with my axe. As extra his shouts jogged bits of my memory, nothing concrete, just flashes and feelings, but it affirmed my disdain for the Paladin. Unfortunately, my triumph was soured by following the family drama, which waited behind the next door in the form extremely beautiful woman, in a skimpy garment stretching seductively on a king-sized bed... Velvet is an incredibly attractive woman, enough to rival the Queen I slew. It's no surprise how she wormed her way into William's bed. Almost immediately she began making her advances on me and I won’t lie I was feeling myself getting flustered. She was interrupted by Rose, who right away began arguing against bringing Velvet with us and I couldn't tell if it was because she saw her as a threat to her position, simply hated her presence or was just jealous The black-haired beauty comments, those about Rose letting herself go, and Gnarl graciously informing us that, thanks to our modification, we could, technically, accommodate a second "Mistress" weren’t helping in a bit. Even Rose with her love of Order and logic had a hard time controlling herself. What I did then was both harder and more painful than any battle that day. I forced my voice to be clear and well heard, damage to it and helmet took care of threatening tones. I commanded that Velvet is going to be a "guest" under constant "protection", inside a remote area of the Tower and would be questioned about what had happened in the city. I also added that her accommodations would be under the control of Lady Rose. The ginger wasn't happy but agreed and retreated to teleport with a grimace. For a second, Velvet's face twisted into something so foul I couldn't help but be impressed, but beyond whining, she offered no resistance as she was being moved with the bed. Replacing Rose with her sister or even assigning her with a similar position wasn't an option. The plump woman is simply too good of an organizer. Oh, I have no doubt that Velvet is far more intelligent than Rose is giving her credit for. She wouldn't come so far on her looks alone, no matter how disarming her beauty is. I can’t have her roaming free, she would get into another trouble and Rose, in a roundabout way, would have me help. Killing her was an option, but despite their animosity, I doubt my advisor would be happy about slaying her sister. In the end, having Rose willing to help and in debt to me was more productive. That and I despite opportunist parasites like Velvet. When I exited the Citadel a flock of succubi landed before me but didn't attack, instead looking indecisively, some with anger, all with fear. One stepped forward and bowed on her knee giving me an ample view of her cleavage. It was hard but I managed to focus on her head. She offered their loyalty in exchange for sparing them. Before I could reply another woman lunged at her with curses, the bowing one tried to stop her but was too slow. I wasn't. The next second, the attacker was lying face-first in the dirt with my axe next to her head, bleeding from where I ripped out her wings. Once again, I was forced to strain my throat, which further dampened my mood. I informed them that I would gladly accept their offer as long as they remain true to their word and their feeding won't impair my subjects. Also, I made clear that any of their kind, who wouldn’t submit and then threaten anything in my realm, would meet consequences. Of course, I worded and spoke it that way which made sure all seductresses were paler than normal and some looked ready to faint. In the end to make sure to make my point about aggression clear I stomped on the head of my would-be-killer. Once, it was enough. Then I barked some orders and they dispersed accordingly. We went to the city, where I was summoning and assigning posts to minions and left organizing this mess to the leader of the refugee camp. He had proved to be quite capable. Finally, I returned to the tower. It was a fruitful and quite satisfying day but the battle fever was wearing off, a tiredness setting in the place. Worst of all my throat reached a new level of fiery torment. On the way to my chambers, I stumbled on Rose. The ginger still looked grumpy, but she was calm and explained that she accepted my decision, but we would have a talk about our new quest. Then she left with her usual strut, which gave me a wonderful look at her enlarged buttocks and hips. It made me even forget about my agonizing throat. “our guest”… huh. *** It has been days since William’s death, busy days and with no end in sight. It’s no surprise, Haven’s Peak is no farming village, it’s the biggest city in hundreds of miles. Securing it, rebuilding even only the most serve of damages takes is taking time, even with an ever-expanding army of minions. Not to mention all those people, many of them wounded and unable to work. I probably could simply put them out of misery, but dead are no use, not to mention gratitude and respect mixed with fear are better than fear alone. Finally new “recruits”. So far the succubi were proving themselves to be useful and execute orders to the latter. A few give me bad looks, and a few tired to use their wiles at me, but beyond those cases and “reprimands”, they seem to be settling in nicely. And they made for entertaining sparring partners. Unsurprisingly, they are a curious race. In some aspects more individualistic even than humans, their solidarity extends only to immediate family or friends, but unless a royal isn’t in command they don’t give a damn about the collective. Perhaps because every succubus can technically repopulate entire species. … I do not know how I know that. That entire organization, rebuilding… I hate it, it’s driving me crazy with restlessness. I do have a lot of duties all of them were mind-bogglingly boring, interrupted only by sparring. I know it’s important, that progressing further without stabilising our positions would be idiotic. I know that and Rose does not need to remind me every time I grunt in disappointment. She on the other time has the time of her life, making sure all affairs, reconstruction and organization are and remain Orderly. … the issues with the ginger are now, mostly, resolved. The next day after we conquered the city, she joined me during breakfast. We went over plans for Heaven’s Peak, she also admitted that having her sister we can watch her is probably a good idea. Of course, Rose was constantly reminding me that the raven-haired woman isn’t to be trusted. I also noticed that she was just playing with cutlery instead of actually eating. That was troubling. Yes, it’s equally important, to me. Then I spend hours in the ruined city, dealing with matters at hand. I returned tied and with three succubi, which in turn soured Rose’s mood, as she was waiting near teleport. The seductress made wicked smiles, which dropped as soon as I informed them that the plump woman was second only to me. Fortunately, as I asked her, Rose waited for me with interrogating Velvet. That affair felt like pooling teeth. The vain woman had spent her entire day, settling in and abusing minions. Only they were assigned to her. She wasted the entire conversation trying to seduce me, it was harder to resist than I had predicted, and throwing occasional, comments about her sister. Most about her current state and how she was a know-it-all. Ultimately, I didn’t learn anything new. Velvet knew more and realized it. I was really tempted to use some of that torture equipment we got from the caste. During dinner, I and Rose settled a few matters. The succubi would answer directly to her unless I requested their aid, their abilities more useful in manipulation than battle, at least for now. After we dealt with all matters I wanted to head to sleep when Rose asked about her weight. I nearly fell from my seat. I had braced myself… and answered truthfully. About how much she has grown, that her new dresses, not too long ago oversized, clung tightly to her, that her belly was now a small, doughy mound that jiggled alongside her enlarged chest and round ass. Rose was stunned and, I was a hard time believing what was seeing, about to cry. Then, without thinking, I began talking about how much it fits her, how beautiful she looks with new flesh. How much her new looks were more charming than her sisters. That was the gist of it, but I don’t remember exact words and my voice sounded like a crow’s squawking. I couldn’t decipher her expression, her softened cheeks were slightly flushed. Rose flashed a smile and excused herself, her bottom swaying wildly as she escaped. I caught myself being genuinely concerned about her. …perhaps things aren’t as boring as I wrote. *** A few days ago I stumbled upon a peculiar situation. The insides, of Rose’s bedchamber, were filled with blankets and pillows. On those sat Rose, all succubi that were assigned to the Tower and a few women handpicked to help around. The entire group was tipsy if not outright **. I walked within earshot when one of the seductresses was ** pouring her woes about lack of proper romance. That all men, once she tries to get emotionally engaged, run away faster than when they learn she’s a sex-feeding fiend. All of the succubi nodded at that and soon all other solidary agreed that all men are pigs before the toast. How they didn’t notice me? They were preoccupied and without my armour, I can move quite quietly. Besides, I limited myself to watching the situation unfold in the reflection of a polished wall. Then one handmaiden commented how at least Rose managed to get herself a solid catch. I admit for some reason I wanted to crush somebody’s skull with bare hands. Then I heard a familiar snort. Rose began that talking that sure that hunk wasn’t the simpleton and brute, she had taken him for (it was when I realized she was talking about me), that she had a decent head on his shoulder, for a man, that he ogled her regularly even with (here she slapped herself on her soft belly and I suddenly felt as blood rushed to a certain part of my body), but in the end, there was only business between them. Worse he was complimenting her looks even now, with her boob-monster of a sister next door to them, but he still wouldn’t take a hint. One of the succubi laughed and laid down resting her head on the soft tummy of my advisor, who suddenly resembled her namesake even more. I heard muffed reassurances, claims about me being dense and promises of help. Her sentiments were echoed by all participants who suddenly were squished next to her. Did I mention, that most of the women inside were quite moderately clothed? I retreated as quietly as I could. One I didn’t know how much I couldn’t handle female sisterhood. Two I had some… things to think about… and I needed a shower, a cold one. *** The work around the city is continuous, but on a positive note, all renovations of the Tower are now complete. Even Gnarl seemed to be moved, speaking in a teary voice about all the Evil to be done from here. Rose seemed to regain her appetite and I noticed a rather… unique way she had been eating lately. The ginger is testing my self-control. Courting… So far I rejected the idea out of potential manipulations, and betrayal, and really… what do I have to lose? I had a feeling weaponry wasn’t a proper gift for ladies of those lands. Just flowers and beautiful items are not enough and just not fit for Rose. During dinner, I presented her a bouquet of roses and a draft of a project – an office of standardization which would begin working in Heaven’s Peak and make sure measures, quality and quantity of items met one universal standard. Never before had I seen her speechless, then she looked at me with genuine awe and… hugged me. It… felt strange… but nice. Good thing I had enough time to shed the armour before the meal. The next day she invited me to a late dinner in her quarters. My mind jumped to… specific conclusions, but once I cooled off after tangling with minions against human and succubi trainees I forced myself to approach it tactically. Going into battle with assumption was an easy way to death, therefore I did my best to get my head out of the gutter. I went to her chambers in good clothes, or at least the cleanest, non-armoured clothes I had, with enough food on a trolley for both of us(and then some more). Rose greeted me and led me, surprisingly to the bedchamber with her usual strut, although now she had much more to strut with. We sat on her bed, trolley near it and it was the first time I saw her openly nervous, and hesitant. She started talking and words began pouring out of her mouth like a waterfall. I learned about her turbulent family history, her rise to the prestigious position by her own merits while her sister whored herself to privilege( not my words). Then I learned that she indeed tried her hand at romance before, only to be disappointed. Possible candidates were either fools, saw her as a pretty face, or both. Then Rose started talking about how we met and our cooperation, and… it seemed she had genuine, romantic feelings towards me. I tried to express myself as best as I could, but while I got better doing it here, my speech left a lot to be desired… But it worked, it had to because the next thing I know Rose is telling something about the finer point of running an Evil domain and we’re tearing clothes off each other I had worries about how I would fare with lacking memories. But once again my instinct kicked in in the heat of the moment, although cramming Rose's mouth with pasties I had bought was an improvisation. Very successful improvisation, considering the militaristic analogies she was shouting. Waking up in bed, next to somebody, was surprisingly pleasant. We talked, honestly and openly. One of the issues we tackled was her weight. I admitted that I enjoyed watching her grow its effect, I admitted I enabled it. That resulted in an elbow jab to my ribs and a confused smile on Rose's rose face. Then I noted that we both know she enjoyed feasting. Before she could oppose, I grabbed a pastry that had survived the pogrom the day before and put it in the ginger's mouth, then argued that appetit... gluttony isn't counterproductive to Order. It was neutral, its affiliation depending on circumstances. Rose swallowed the large sweet and with some reluctance accepted the rezoning, but said it would to unbecoming of a proper Mistress to be fat. Mistress... I suppose she is one now. At that, I nearly laughed. I'm the Overlord, I dictate what's proper and what's not. I'm going to pamper my Mistress and feed her with the best, most decadent foods. I'm going to clothe her growing, supple body in finest silks as her body outgrows her old garments, time and time again. Rose going to be the pinnacle of beauty, not because she follows some fashion, diet, no. She's going to be the pinnacle of beauty because with her soft curves, and round belly, she IS my Mistress and she SETS what beauty means to be. I expressed that sentiment to my partner snuggling her as gently as I was able to. I received a playful slap on my torso accompanied by a laugh. The meal, that I had brought the day before, didn't go to waste. Heated with careful, fire magic, dinner that was fit for three men, was devoured by a young woman, leaving only poor remains. Rose was lying on the bed, her expression a unique mix of pain and pleasure. Where once had been a soft, fleshy pillow, was something akin to a small, regular boulder wrapped in smooth, pink skin, interrupted by fresh, red lines. Soon after, the overfed ginger slipped into a nap. I put on clothes, ignoring rips and missing buttons. For a preacher of Order, Rose could be surprisingly savage. On the way to the armoury, I caught one of the maids and ordered her to prepare the Lady a fresh set of clothes and wait to be summoned. It was a good day, a very good day. Even an increasingly throbbing throat and dealing with organizing the city didn't manage to dampen my mood. *** The renovations of Heaven's Peak are coming to an end, at least ones needing my direct attention. I must admit, as daunting as it had been, I cannot help but feel pride in what we managed to accomplish. The city's walls are all but the whole, bodies taken care of, streets clean of rubble, most important structures are repaired, a skeleton of structures and Order established, even for succubi. The seductresses seem somewhat confused, due to the way they were being handled, but performing well, some of them quite happy to be delegated to more complex duties. I'm personally quite proud of the fledging city guard. As useful and loyal minions are, some issues need a more huma- personal approach (I managed to convince 3 hobbits and a succubus to join). I also weeded out the most troublesome or vocal of William's supporters, that remained. They provided quite useful - proper, public executions can be quite an attraction. Thought those events are secondary to me. My relationship with Rose is progressing nicely, even if we both are hopelessly out of our depth. Though I'd like to think we make due, I officially moved to her quarters. I'm getting to know more personal details about her and Velvet, a more vulnerable side of her. Her absent father wasn't just some spellcaster, but the Wizard, one of the Heroes to vanquish my predecessor. I understand her reluctance in sharing it, but the only consequence is a clearer image of her magical potential. I'm trying to share my musings and what rags of memories that I managed to get back. It's hard, in more ways than one as my voice still is barely working. We do clash on a few topics. Rose wants me to act more... sophisticated, noble-like, which isn't likely. Being Overlord aside, I'm a warrior above all, and nobles, in the majority, were little more than silk-wearing parasites. Rose was against resuming her magical studies, supposedly due to the unpredictable nature of the arcane, but I'm convinced it's because of her father. Also, she's not happy, about laxity in several policies. Still, those mostly aren't relationship issues. The main problem, if it can be called that, is that we often simply don't know what to do and shows of affection, always private, sometimes feel awkward. Another certain improvement was Rose's appetite, which not only returned but keeps growing. Some with her body, her round belly expanded the most, forward and sideways, forming two thick rolls on both sides. Her lovely bottom, fertile hips, and now touching thighs are following suit, even if a bit less, and normal chairs are becoming narrow, armchair confining. My Mistress is now as wide as I without armour but unlike me deliciously soft. Her perky breasts grew less eagerly than the rest of her curves but were now noticeably bigger than Velvet's. There are lovely layers of flesh around her forearms and calves. The neck thickened and shortened, partially thanks to a roll of adipose that was now located under the shapely jaw. Above it, a beautiful face now much softer with round cheeks. It's increasingly hard to keep my focus on other things than her soft, wobbling body when we're together. Rose, meanwhile, is becoming more confident with her growing form, in fact, nowadays she seemed to take pride in it. Very good. I think I can safely claim partial credit for her lavish form. At every opportunity, I remind, now very expanded, kitchen staff to provide Rose with pasties and snacks between meals. I, myself, always arrive at every meeting with a hefty supply of treats. But I don't stop here, Rose did abandon the leash of her appetite, but during every meal, I encourage her. When she sits near me after meals, stuffed and ready to leave, I gently, or as gently as I can, whisper to her, putting the next portions next to her mouth. Rose nags, declines but eats until her belly gets as tight as a drum and with every day bigger. What happens next depends on the circumstances, I either led her to a comfortable, cushioned couch with a desk or I carry her to our bed if the hour is late. In the latter case, quite frequently, the curses addressed at me and moans of discomfort are joined by moans of pleasure. Sex is too, a great opportunity, I expanded upon my idea from the first night with great results. Rose complains about my action, how I made her blow up like a pig. But neither her eyes, expression, or even expression fit her words. Especially as the ginger slaps her bottom. ... I'm happy. I can genuinely say that I'm happy. I think I would be able to reign my thirst for battle and wanderlust and focus on governing what I have here... if that was a feasible option, that depended only on me, and if my memories weren't missing and tied to the Heroes. Seeing as manufacturers are reopened I commissioned a portable throne... or rather a very comfortable, portable couch and similar carriage. Both are designed to be large enough to seat three of me on cushions. Of course, they are being made for Rose and only Rose. Am I being overly optimistic? - maybe. But I prefer to say I'm thinking prospectively. Besides both of us, I and Rose, are consequential when reaching a goal and neither stops halfway. Of course, there are a few snags. Gnarl's lecherous comments make me sometimes wish I could afford to behead him. Though, some of them were quite spot-on, especially those about her growing body. There are some high-borns from Heaven's Peak that I agreed to spare, they're vexing. But, them I can and will kill should they become too much trouble. The only actual snag is Velvet. Several days after her arrival and deliberation, I assigned her servants, only females and one succubus, the calmest and so far most reliable I have to oversee them all. That last move proved to be correct. Velvet almost imminently began to "befriend" her servants, almost as quickly she began to subtly undermine my authority and set maids from diffrent shifts against each other. According to my spy, the raven-haired woman is good, but her mannerism leaves some to be desired. That and in moments of flustration murmured and occasionally shouted what was on her mind. Velvet does it when she thinks she is alone or when there are only minions to abuse. Another mistake. What I learned confirmed that it was good that I isolated and supervised her. Funnily enough, some of her ideas were shallow even by the standards of succubi. I did try to interrogate her again, with no results. Well, there is one, with her constant flirting, her beauty seems deeply shallow. Nonetheless, I tried to reconcile the sisters. Perhaps, it's unfit for lord of Evil, but somewhere in the back of my head, something is always nagging me that family should not quarrel. Rose was reluctant but agreed if only to settle some matters with her siblings. After a tense meal full of jabs and indirect insults, the meeting ended with Velvet mocking Rose's weight, accomplishment and taste in men. Fortunately this time my Mistress was much more composed and her newfound pride in her expanding body allowed her to redirect Velvet's words. It was a good thing because I almost wrangled the whore's neck. Later, when we lay in bed and Rose's belly was stuffed with food, we agreed that we would postpone any family reunions. I have a certain idea, that should knock Velvet a peg or two. But It needs to be better prepared. Tomorrow, we'll begin clearing road between the Heaven's Peak and castle Spree. It's the last major task before returning to the elven forest. *** I and minions went to the temple of Mother Goddess, which led to one of the magical roots. We weren't there first, a few men in the outfit of thieves/scavengers and a single woman in ruberian jewellery. There was something familiar about her, but they disappeared almost imminently so I can't say anything for sure. We made our way through ghosts and occasional thieves, all meeting the same fate. When we reached the main chamber the ruberian woman was there with a gigantic man, larger even than me. Soon they disappeared with a familiar many-eyed creature. But I caught their names Jawel and Khan. Those sound familiar and... bring emotion like through fog I seem to remember something. We severed the root and returned to the Tower. As much as I wanted to face Greenhaze, I needed to be fresh and rested for that. That evening I watched Rose who lay next to me. There was quite a lot to admire as my partner weights now about 20 stones, making her the heaviest woman I know of. And by whatever gods are out there, does that new flesh settles beautifully on her. I decided to present my idea to her. Succubi can influence people's minds, even of those not attracted to them. It can be hard and they could use practice, Velvet... so proud of her appearance and mocking her sister's supple body... Rose jabbed me and accused me of just wanting to see Velvet get fat. I didn't deny the sentiment, but I denied it is the only reason. I told her to imagine her sister being as large as she is now and Velvet's reaction to it. My dear Mistress agreed. *** Today I killed Oberon Greenhaze. He begged me to do this. I knew and respected Oberon Greenhaze. I don't remember Oberon Greenhaze, but I knew and respect him. I killed him. I sat alone on the bed in our bedchamber without a helmet when Rose came in. She sat next to me, silent. Then I felt a little better. A little. *** It was over two weeks since I killed the third hero. Fortunately, I had enough reason left to bark orders back then, before retreating to chambers and Rose was able to handle the day-to-day running of my realm just fine. So everything had been proceeding good and minions made a few secured outposts in this cursed forest. I needed those days to calm down and to think. Between being a new Overlord and my hatred toward William I assumed I had been a soldier of some note working for my predecessor. Now... I'm not sure. Of course, my absence was noticed. But we managed to masterfully pass it off as a test/provocation. Two nobles wanted to ignite a rebellion, the moment the "chance" appeared. No peasant returned a call to arms, instead turned them to city guard on a silver plate. I was pleasantly surprised by succubi who firmly supported me and subtly quelled doubts. Probably thanks to the edict which put their species on equal footing with others and forbade prosecution. As far as I know, we're the only ones to do so. In my lands, all species are equally, equally exploited and subservient to me. There are other benefits of conquering the forest. We cleared the way to catacombs which led a little beyond it. Oberon's death destroyed the tree with which he had been fused, opening patch to mountains, the land of dwarfs. The forest itself proved to be rich, in princess herbs useful in various drugs. Some to even helpful in arcane as informed me Rose, who is slowly familiarizing with magical tomes we... reclaimed. There's also the fact that the influx of duties was a challenge even for my Mistress, which led to stress eating. Even without my prompting Rose always was chewing on some cookie or other pastry, her belly inflated with constant snacking. I am fairly sure watching her fatten herself like that was almost as good for my mood as her angry pep talk. Rose was no longer just 20 stones, the smooth rolls that were forming from her belly and equally enlarged rest of her confirmed that. Besides, I have her often enough laying or sitting on me to say that. But Rose isn't the only one who grew larger. The succubi weren't ide, the three of them in need of training are doing their best to please me. As vain as Velvet is, she had been carefully watching what and how much she had been eating. For the last week or so, it hasn't been the case. Just yesterday we watched her stuff herself with éclairs. Rose may blame my male desire for putting a spying spell in her sister's room, but I saw how she was beaming when Velvet abandoned her manners to cram pastries into her mouth, not to mention other opportunities to point out her duplicitous nature. The raven-hared woman already appeared softer, even if only slightly. Soon, we began marching into dwarven lands. I have only limited information about that area, but I have a feeling it's going to be a pain. *** Sometimes I hate being right. Dwarves are a worthy foe, almost every member of their race is proficient in battle. But gigantic, monster slugs were vexing and ** dwarves are even more vicious, but... they aren't immune to other effects of drink. Fighting surrounded by vomit and piss is neither pleasant nor overly glorious. Discovering elven slaves was a surprise, worrying one. The mountain dwellers never, in known history, kept slaves. We freed them and transported them back to the forest. Their gratitude mixed with fresh humiliation keeps them from disputing our presence there. Good, I wouldn't have bothered but elves have one useful quality. They have enormous knowledge of the arcane and mundane. Rose already has people recording their relations. Of course, even at such early stages, we managed to amass quite a lot of gold. I keep that fact quiet, for obvious reasons. For now, we secured outside areas, but I want to entrench our forces here before moving father. I rather not be caught by dwarfs flanking me through some secret tunnel. Meanwhile, back...huh... back home things weren't frozen. There's an entire assortment of new drugs based on forest herbs. I won't list them, as most of them have quite typical applications, if more potent. But what is interesting is a revival of old ailment for expecting women, sometimes used for growing pains. It makes the body more stretchy, and harder to hurt as it is being pulled, though it caused a bit of numbness in the body. I immediately ordered it to be sprinkled inside the Mistress's meals and oils with those herbs to be used while massaging her. At first, I was sceptic, but after three days of spiked meals, her stuffed gut was able to grow noticeably bigger and rounder. I was honestly afraid Rose may burst, for a moment. I'm fairly sure she knows about it but enjoys it in her own way. One elf, who got talking about their medicine, let slip a titbit about a mixture which is used to increase appetite in fussy children. I have people investigating it. Velvet's reconditioning is going well. She stuffs herself, without care, during meals and is carelessly snacking with snacks, provided all day long. Very buttery ones. We had to replace her corset, last the seductress to recognise how much her bust and belly grew. Interestingly enough she isn't the only one. Some women from Heaven's Peak and residing in the Tower seem to have packed on a few stones as well. Even one or two succubi seem bigger than when we meet. I have my suspicions, but it can be just a result of better access to food. Besides, it's rather a dicey subject and I may be the Overlord, but I'm not without reason. Now, I have to finish. We're about to storm the first proper fortifications. *** The last few days were tiring, but satisfying. Only dwarves something as ridiculous and amazing as distillery and city in one, which was more fortified that their borders. It was our first clash with their proper military. It was glorious, they attacked us without mercy, with a desire to cush us. Their resistance and frenzy were only increasing as we were going deeper into the mountain. Now, I have a strong head, but the fumes inside were making me hazy and I'm still surprised the entire place didn't blow up with all fire I was casting around. Unfortunately, the phase of pleasant daze passed me, instead, a killer hangover hit me the moment we were back in the fresh air. Nonetheless, our offensive was a great success. We slaughtered opposing forces and secured "the beer keg", which provided us with significant resources and was a great blow to the dwarves. I would probably call it the day, I and my minions were tired, but the elves near the entrance to Goldo's place informed me that thieves were spotted, likely trying to steal the statue of Mother Goddess. That energized me. I don't like thieves, I do not like people stealing my spoils even less. Not to mention it was no mere piece of ornament. Mother Goddess was a deity with real influence, and her statue was a powerful tool, at the very least political. Besides, the gold-loving king shut herself in the fortress. Using arcane I revitalized myself and strengthened my forces. We pressed forward slicing through beasts and dwarfs alike. It was gruelling crossing and I barely took note of Gnarl's words about "cunning plan". When we reached the would-be temple we encountered a familiar many-eyed creature... and a flame titan who killed it. Unlike the teleporting beast, we proved too much for the rocky giant. Only then, I did allow myself to inspect the sculpture. It wasn't what I had expected. Either the author had similar tastes to myself, which would mean elves can be quite sensible, or the Mother Goddess is large and in charge. True the presented woman was smaller than Rose, but more heavy set than any elf and most human women. My musings were interrupted by Gnarl. His plan was quite ingenious and I ordered as many minions as possible inside the hollow statue. We didn't have to wait long, another arcane monster appeared and teleported the artefact. I oversaw securing the most important spoils, before summoning more forces with orders to secure the area. I was barely able to walk up, even my magically-enhanced body was at its limits. Luckily nobody noticed, save Rose. The moment she saw me the Mistress began complaining about me being reckless and stinking of beer. The ginger was poorly hiding concern in her voice. As she guided me to the bathroom, my mind and eyes were wandering. Mostly around the beautiful woman before me. Her trademark strut was gone, she was simply too fat to move otherwise than by waddle, which set her flesh into motion. I heard her rapid breathing, moving at a mild pace from chamber to chamber was enough to make her pant. So far Rose is declining to be carried or even assisted with walking by servants, but that's only a matter of time. I don't know how I arrived in the room with steaming water, I was hypnotized by two large, jiggling orbs to which fabric clung tightly. That ass is big enough to squash a few minions to death and even seats fit for my armoured bulk are a bit too small for it. The Mistress, red from the effort, helped me to peel off my armour, it wasn't much of assistance, but I wouldn't have it otherwise. Soon we both were naked and I couldn't take my eyes off her. Rose's gut is almost as wide as her fertile hips, which are larger than I with armour on. The fleshy mountain is made from two, incredibly thick rolls, divided by a shallow pit and sticks about a foot forward from her body. On it are lying two breasts almost as large as her head and beautifully round, with rose nipples. Her forearms had large sacks of fat hanging from them, into which her elbows were almost absorbed. All of this is supported by thick, juicy thighs, wider than her waist had been when we first meet. Once sharp cheekbones were replaced by round, large cheeks and the Mistress almost no longer has a neck to speak off. Her second chin expanded incredibly, thickening by several fingers. Last month’s made my lover blow into awe-inspiring proportions. We stumbled into the batch, spilling an impressive amount of hot water. As large as it was, with my large size and Rose's incredible, soft, supple flesh, we fit together tightly, our bodies pressed together. It was an incredible opportunity, my Mistress looked insanely alluring covered in soapy water, but I was too tired and even excitement was failing against my heavy eyelids. We tried to clean ourselves quickly, with little success. I exited first and opened the drain without thought. Rose called me before I even moved a step, the ginger looked annoyed and embarrassed. She couldn't stand up, in a deep, slippery bath, on her own. As delicately as I could I grabbed her, which wasn't easy, and lifted her. I could feel every single of my sore muscle scream as I assisted her outside. This time I helped her with a towel. Then we went to our bedchamber where we almost immediately fell asleep. However as my mind was drifting away, I couldn't help but compare my lover to carefully labelled bags of gold I took from dwarven land. Yes, Rose is clearly over 30 stones. Over 30, beautiful, soft stones. *** Training minions, as much as a chore it is, brings results. When I got back to the mountains the crude, but effective fortification had been set. It improved my already good mood. That day started very well, with Rose breaking her seat. The chair near the desk where she kept and used her cosmetics had been scavenged from castle Spree, and too small for her meaty rump for some time now. I have felt the ginger as somewhat attached to it, enough to stand it wedging to her body. It was good carpentry, but that morning when Rose tried to turn toward me on it. the piece of furniture cracked and broke into pieces. I can count on finger times Rose got so flushed This time I didn't waste the opportunity and moved my obese beauty toward the bed, which affirmed my diagnosis from the day before. Her sitting on me with that soft rump, then bouncing there with me even more, cemented it. Anyway, it wasn't the end of pleasant surprises. Once thieves were removed from the area the door to Goldo's fortress opened. This time Hero's delusions worked in our favour. Taking about over the external fort wasn't easy, but preferable to the weeks-long siege I had been expecting. Fighting Goldo riding his "pet" was flustrating, dangerous and unfulfilling, the same was killing the dwarven king. Deeper in the Keep we found Golderson's treasury, and... elven women, only ones I encountered so far, likely last ones in this part of the world and imprisoned behind a chasm. But before I could think about the situation the mountain began shaking. We could take females or gold. I choose females. I have no particular love for their kind, but an entire tribe of them with such debts to me and likely soon an entirely new generation of arcane species loyal to me was much more profitable than gold. Gold... gold doesn't spoil or rust, and can be dug out again. It was time for the boring part. What followed was reminiscent of hobit village and very different at the same time. We were approached by dwarves, including remains of the military, feed from whatever magic was working through Goldo and thanked us for freeing them. But those weren't peaceful and placid hobbits. The mountain folk was stubborn, battle-ready, greedy and kept grudges, magical corruption or not. They told me, in no uncertain terms, that they're thankful, but we should leave, preferably after repairing damage and returning gold. I would have to had to correct the soldier's assumptions about his situation, but we heard shouts and saw a second group approaching. On its front was a muscular woman with an impressive axe and an unusually lean, old dwarf, in grab that betrayed him as a craftsman of some sort. Their group, was mostly women, not looking any more fragile than males and craftsmen, plus members of other guilds. They weren't happy. The woman tore into the lead soldier, her husband apparently, which quickly turned into a shouting match. The lead craftsman meanwhile approached me and cordially asked me about the situation. As much as it pained me to, literally, I explained, in detail, honesty. He only nodded, then gestured to the now combating couple and asked to return me to leave them for a while, to resolve internal conflict. An hour later I and Rose sat near the familiar woman and craftsman, as well as the newly chosen, young leader of the military, discussing terms. Those three knew they were beaten, but tried to make the most of their situation, for all of their people. I could respect that. Now comes the time to entrench and rebuild, while the brown minions sent with the stature look for teleport. We're helping elves settle back into the forest, and make settlements. Strangely enough, their woman, save for flowery language and occasional bouts of melancholy, have much more practical, down-to-earth characters. So much so that I demanded that our elven proxy be female. Rose fully supported me, she was tired of their depression. The pointed-eared females seem to also develop some strange fascination with my Mistress, observing her large body from afar. But things were going wll, especially now we have competent enough people to delegate. Allowing me to focus on more important to me matters. Most of the free time I spend with Rose, when possible at least. That often included a secluded location and filling her with hearty food until her soft tummy became tight as a drum and as heavy as a boulder. With every day there seemed to be more of her to go around. But not only her. The ginger's sister was now officially fat and even magic wouldn't keep her in denial. Velvet's fat settled in her breast, just a bit smaller than her head and her ass which now overflew most of her chairs. Her belly also expanded outward, but much less than the rest of her curves. Oh... she was far behind Rose, but her blubbery form was unmistakable, making her shriek every time looking into a mirror. The best part, she can't stop herself. Velvet stuffs herself during every meal, cursing everyone, she cursed everyone and orders more pastries until she is about to burst. I hadn't thought there was something like hate-eating, but I was proved wrong. I also made a small investigation into a female weight-gain trend in Heaven's Peak and the Tower. Not that I minded it, but I don't like being in the dark. I asked the succubus that was now a permanent resident in the Tower about it, she also put on several stones. The blonde seductress grinned and slapped her potbelly, I managed to remain focused on her face, barely. She confirmed my suspicions, namely the eligible female population wanted to gain my favour, ideally even replacing Rose. Futile. Though, the blonde seductress also hinted that it's a form of subtle female rebellion combined with a chance to treat themselves. At that I only nodded, I'm not stupid enough to claim to comprehend females. Then I asked about her and her companions, they too were heavier. Did they want to get into my bed? She grinned and hinted at the possibility(No. Rose gets surprisingly well with them nowadays, but if I even suggested it...), before adding a little more serious that's mimicry, at least partially. Her species change appearance according to the desires of the surrounding population, within a certain limit and not consciously. However, it was an actual change, not an illusion. I'm the Overlord, even putting aside boast of incredible willpower, I'm connected to the tower's heart, I'm radiating with arcane power. I had observed the effect I have on other magical beings, even those resistant to outside influence. In short, I'm subconsciously making succubi fatten themselves. In the end, the blonde chuckled, commenting that it was a nice change, at least and the tastes of subjects change according to what their master dictates. "In a decade or so, Lady Rose will be an example of proper beauty, and we will follow this. If it changes again so will we. The elves already getting the memo, then again when they aren't high on their superiority they tend to prefer curves. With them worshipping Mother Goddess" After that I dismissed her and she left, shaking enlarged buttchecks in a skimpy dress. I swear, before I met a worthy opponent, I'll meet my end by feminine wiles. I almost forgot, Rose finally getting accustomed to travelling on the potable couch I had commissioned for her months ago and other assistants. She needs them to have any physical task done quickly. And by gods does My mistress look magnificent on that seat. Although that willingness to accept assistance nearly cost me dearly. A day ago I stumbled upon her in the new pool, in the company of a succubus and two, busty and chubby maids washing her folds using sponges. I felt all my blood leave my head and travel downward. If not hasty escape they would find me unconscious and with an erection. I would never live that down. *** Good news, browns managed to locate a strong gateway and activate it, by the time I could leave my realm without running back every five minutes. The bad news, the gate led me to the Ruborian Desert. I don't remember any deserts, but it took me one look at the scorched land to know I despise it, its inhabitants and everything it stands for. I gained respect for Arche for displaying enough wisdom to leave this place. I pursued Jewell nonetheless, at the very least I'll make sure she shares my pain. Hmmm... lately I noticed I write in a more "sophisticated" way. Rose's rubbing off on me or old habits returning? Despite lengthy discussions with my Mistress, the most experienced succubus I still know next to nothing save a few flashes and feelings. ... desert, it's worse than I expected. I won't describe how much I disdain this land, I would waste several pages and still not be close. We were constantly confronted by vermin, beasts or thieves. Normally I would relish in battle, in the challenge but the place was taking it all away. We chased Jewell for long through this wasteland, when we cornered her I was on wit's end. But for all of her nimbleness, the ruberian woman fell into our trap. Good, better even, because once I took a good look at her I understood I don't want to kill her. Cage her, have her stuffer discomfort and humiliation, yes, but not to maim or kill her. That was a new one. Not to mention we got back the statue of the Mother Goddess to the Evernight. The elves look at me almost with the same reverence as at the thing. I'm going to leave her to stew in the cage while I clean myself and rest. If I ever return to this place it'll be too soon. *** What the fuck *** Okay. I need to write about it if only to sort this out in my head. The last days were wild. First, we interrogate Jewell, who looks great as decoration, she talks about Wizard, I feel my memories being painfully tugged. When we heard the alarm, somebody was attacking Archie's village. Some idiot opened the gates after threatening sheep, whose need to be killed daily so they don't overrun those lands. The village was full of gazers and familiar bandits, peasants giving no resistance, and minions who had been stationed there dead. I dealt with it. I was furious but spared the Ruberian mayor and his people. Khan was attacking Heaven's peak. Their situation was better. Militia and succubi managed to contain invaders mostly to one district, although their forces were much more numerous and powerful. They only needed a hand, but then Khan arrived. It was a hard battle, glorious and victorious but left me with a strange aftertaste. Triumph and regret in equal measures. I returned to the Tower to witness the betrayal of Gnarl and minions on the account of the return of the wizard/the seventh hero/my father in love/FUCKING REINCARNATED SECOND OVERLORD. ... Rose underestimated Velvet and I grew careless with her. With the little magical boost, the skinner sister had been able to inform the wizard of our actions, perhaps even sabotage us. The fucker gave me some grand speech and proceeded to try and fry me. I was hit with the strangest feeling of Deja vu. Fortunately, he too underestimated us and I had much better taste in allies. I regained my senses next to destabilized Heart and panting Rose, sweating and fortunately retreating with help of succubi. The wizard sent minions at me, they were tougher, but also more mindless in their attacks. He kept babbling and launching spells at me, but I kept slaughtering his forces. Finally, he retreated into a newly opened cavern. Soon after my Mistress returned, sweating heavily, supported by maids and escorted by winged seductresses. My lover looked ready to pass off in exhaustion but otherwise fine. At the end, from the room emerged Velvet and Gnarl. To this day I'm surprised I managed to stay my hand. Succubi offered to accompany me and fight, but I ordered them to guard Rose and the Heart. My obese Mistress didn't even find it in herself to protest. I was a bit surprised they remained loyal, but then as demanding as I was with me they gained more, than in the last centuries. That and the Second wasn't big on Free Will. That I remembered. Using irregularities in the Heart I managed to regain my magic and control over some minions. Apparently, I'm overall a better boss. It wasn't easy but directly interacting with hives allowed me to access the rest of my minions. Then we went to trim the wizard's beard along with his head. The moment we saw him, he started droning about how all heroes and I were predictable. I ignored him and focused on dodging his high-level spells and mutated minions. He droned on and on, and I kept getting angrier. His magical might was ridiculous, but his tactics severely lacking. Probably the reason I still live. I drove my axe deep into his skull and soon felt a surge of arcane seeping into me. With only one Overlord the Heart stabilized firmly under my control. I went back to Rose, where we regrouped before going upstairs. A quick inspection confirmed what I felt, we won. I made orders, mainly to ascertain damages and to put Velvet in the deepest hole. Then I retreated to my chambers, where I collapsed. When I awoke, I was out of out my armour with my injuries treated, but I felt worse than when we first woke as the Overlord. Next to me lay Rose awoken by my stirring, right away she began lecturing me, but I noticed moisture under her eyes. Now, I just have to deal with this mess and daily dosage of flashbacks. *** Things finally calmed down. We repaired damages to the Tower and Heaven's Peak. For now, I also halted any attempts to expand my realm and strengthen what I already have. It's boring but necessary, thankfully it's also a great excuse to spend time with Rose. My Mistress continues to work on my kingdom, but there's only so much that can be done as things are now outside everyday duties. As consequence, we have much more free time than previously. It's the first time we together visit our lands, for... recreation. Nowadays I also personally make sure Rose is properly pampered. The effects are magnificent, as her body reached staggering proportions. My mistress is twice as wide as I am, her stomach almost reaching her knees when she is sitting, two rolls composing it are at least as thick as my muscular thighs. Her ass was equally large, overflowing me when she sat on me( that happened quite frequently), botch cheeks are rounds, dotted with small dimples, pushing so far back they created a shelf, big enough to safely put a middle-sized plate on it. Just under it, are meaty thighs, also dotted with dimples, almost as wide as my waist. Her calves aren't much smaller and appear somewhat like rounded, bit malformed slices of a tree trunk, about to be chopped into splits, but smooth and soft They long since absorbed my lovers' ankles, visibly bordering with her chubby feet. On her belly lay two breasts the size of watermelons, they still manage to maintain their shape and some firmness. Rose's forearms are about the size of her calves with soft blubber hanging from them, the rest of her arms widened almost twice over, and her fingers resemble sausages. Her neck is gone, devoured by her torso and the singular, thick fold of fat that grew under my Mistress' jaw. It grew so large that her chin is barely distinguishable, along with it expanded her other facial features, visibly enlarging her head. Now her cheeks are so round and large, that there are clear, constant smile lines, that don't require smiles. At this point, I cannot reliably gauge how heavy Rose is, but I would wager at least 40 stones. I must admit I'm curious and yesterday I ordered a large scale, big enough for the ginger. All this blubber doesn't leave her unaffected. Rose, even assisted couldn't hope to move remotely fast on her own legs, not to mention not far before she's exhausted. Therefore, we had taken to being carried to most places, even within the tower, using several portable seats I had commissioned for her. Also, she had no choice but to accept the aid of maids, when washing and I wasn't available. There are tens of other examples, little or large changes brought by her amazing size. My Mistress often complained, saying that I'm fattening her like a pig for slaughter. I doubt there was a pig that comes close to her weight, not to mention I knew she was enjoying both her incredible size, even certain discomfort it brought, and her ability to consume a family's worth of food on daily basis. And Rose knows that I know, but that doesn't stop her from teasing. Speaking of fattening. Velvet is still within the Tower, but no longer a "guest", but a prisoner, even if she kept her quarters. I think my Mistress would forgive me for executing her sister, at first at least, but I decided to use the vain seductress as an example and entertainment. A bit of humiliation could do her only good. I invented a new form of carnival attraction for peasants, though I have yet to come up with a good name. Velvet was placed in a special pillory, that left her kneeling on pillows, and her head upward. That and had a rather delicate mechanism that kept her mouth open. One could buy chap, a gelatinous concoction and feed it to her, goal was to see how much Velvet could be fat and how far her stomach could stretch. It was a hit, to children it was another game, women enjoyed mocking her and the destroy the seductress's figure, and men... enjoyed many, various, different things of this arrangement. Of course, occasions for this attraction were a few. That's I assigned Velvet to the pleasure house in Heaven's peak. No, not as a whore, she could build some powerbase that way, she had practice. Instead, I had a special, exclusive spectacle prepared in several versions. For a hefty price, Velvet would be fed by a pair of succubi, either willing, hypnotised by their power, or forcefully, fully-aware but powerless against their physical might. I honestly wasn't expecting it to be that much of a hit. But its popularity, modest at first, grew fast and soon Velvet couldn't meet demand or else she would burst. Fortunately, the black-haired woman grew and so does the amount of clients she can serve. She grows alright, fat keeps accumulating mostly in her breasts, now as large as Rose's despite her still being much lighter. However, perhaps because it's being stretched daily, her gut transformed into a round, soft orb, adorned by thin red lines. Even, in rare moments of respite in her chambers, Velvet can't help but gorge herself, her appetite(or was this an addiction by now) to deny her food and pastries which we provide. I feel very good about how my "sister-in-law" situation is progressing. I intend for Jewell to soon join her. Ah... we found the former hero in one of the dungeons. We keep questioning her about what happened to "The Seven Heroes" after the "defeat" of the second Overlord and to fill certain blanks in my returning memories. But I had no use for her otherwise and I wouldn't let her go even if I was still a "Hero". I already have succubi work on her and her body was already enveloped in certain softness. In several months Jewell will no longer be able to perform her acrobatics. Things are going well. *** It's almost three years since I killed the Second. My realm is flourishing, in every area. My subjects fear my iron hand, at the same respecting me, some after to the point of divine reverence. They know what happens to traitors and parasites, as well as who is responsible for their current prosperity. I'm pleased about it, but truly happy I'mdue to my relationship with Rose, and our mutual love. Had she demanded it I would wed her in an instant, but neither of us feel the need for such ceremony. Besides I doubt any priest or deity was willing to bless our Evil union, maybe Mother Goddess, she owns us one. My Mistress's body seemed to reflect our realm's wealth growth. The ginger was no longer able to walk, her body was simply too immense for this. She already fills the portable couches that were made to fit three of me. Her gut now overflowing her knees and her bottom grow accordingly, the shelf it makes is now wide enough to place a platter on it with little risk. Her thighs are mighty barrels, far wider than me in my shoulders with armour, they're so fat they form their own folds of flesh in few places. The place where her knees are only recognizable thanks to pits that connects her thighs with a second set of barrels of fat that are her calves. They're just shy of being as large as the average, human woman's waist, in places forming bulges of blubber, in time perhaps to form into folds. It's hard to observe just how sharply they cut off from her feet, both now resembling an irregular mass with round nuggets of toes at their end, as her calves are so fat they started to cover them. Not absorb, cover... perhaps in time, her feet will be fully encompassed by calves' lard. Rose's upper arms aren't faring worse. Now it was her forearms that resembled her long gone waist in width, with something akin to flexible bags of adipose hanging from them. The rest of her arms, which weren't absorbed by her bingo wings, are about as thick as my biceps. At the end are my mistress's fingers, no longer resembling sausages, but can easily pass as those. Obviously, moving those enormous upper limbs is quite the effort and so is gaping any tools, let alone doing so with remote precisions. Amongst the small army of maids, solely devoted to serving My Rose, are those whose main goal was to feed her and those whose job was to write down what she dictated. Both positions required high competencies. It's almost hard to believe my Mistress had a neck, to begin with. It was so thoroughly absorbed by her torso, the thick fold of fat under her face no longer hanged, but it is visibly squeezed to her upper chest, to the point Rose is forced to look a bit upward, unable to turn her head any lower. I could spend several more pages describing my love's enormous girth, changes both small and life-changing. However, there's no accurate just how enormously fat and beautiful Rose is. The wright I had had engineers in the city construct for her indicated that my bride weight over 64 stones. And she is only getting larger. She keeps complaining, of course finding new overly complicated ways to tell me how I'm a bad influence. Dear, I'm THE Overlord. Besides, I know her and I caught her playing breathlessly with her own lard far too many times. On another note... I may have made mistake comparing her calves to the waists of other women, but more accurate would be to write that her calves are as wide as the average, human woman's waist used to be. The average weight of females in my realm has noticeably been increasing in those last years, a woman with a slender body is now a rarity. Of course only some, wealthy ones are truly obese, the rest are clearly overweight or chubby, depending on their jobs, marital status and other circumstances, but most follow this fashion. I suppose succubi were more correct in their prediction than I or even they, had previously thought. The race of seductress is thriving in unexpected ways, slowly integrating with humans, many of them also larger. Some of them are starting actual families. The elves mirror those changes, but for quite different reasons. The women now possess more influence over their tribe than males, who failed in their duties leading to their near extinction. So not only many elven females wormed their way into positions in leadership and armed forces, but they also prompted the return to classical, less pointlessly esoteric and philosophical worship of the Mother Goddess. THE deity of fertility, in all meanings of this word. Her priestesses began to fatten themselves as a show of respect and to follow in her teachings. Many females do similarly, albeit to a lesser extent. I quietly endorse this religion, not only because it appeals to my personal tastes, but Mother Goddes is a god with some actual power, reverted to some degree by all races. Also, it is only thanks to those priestesses and their teaching that we're welcoming many infant elves. Saved from slavery or not, local elves were on the brink of extinction and I hate to have my investment to be wasted. On the forefront of expanding women, outside my mistress, is Velvet. The years of gorging and force-feeding did their job. She's still technically able to move on her own, but each of her breasts is the size of an adult pig, with a round gut, half of their length, under. So her centre of mass is so forward, the thinner sister needs at the very least a sturdy cane to support herself or she would stumble forward and likely drown in her own tit-flesh. Velvet's bottom and tree trunk legs under aren't small by no means but have fallen behind. We no longer put her as an attraction during festivities, her gut is simply too fat and putting her in stocks and dealing with her blubber is too much hassle. Besides she's far more profitable as a luxurious attraction. I had hoped humiliation would do her some good but might have underestimated her vanity. Velvet seems to have accepted her situation but still curses us, throws tantrums and any suggestions of reconciliation, by servants, are violently denied. Sometimes, I have the urge to execute her and be done with her, a source of amusement or not, but she is family... Velvet's not the only star as far as public fattening goes. A half year after her capture Jawel was no longer useful to me as a source of information. There was no way I let her go, so she received the same treatment as Velvet. During the public weighing... I forgot to mention we made the public weighting of fattest women another attraction, the ruberian woman was shown to be over 28 stones. To be honest, Jawel was a curious case, once she got roomier... "guest chamber", the thief started to perform daily exercises, putting on quite the show. But, she always wanted to have what others had, even without wanting it personally. Jawel never was gluttonous, but she also never declined a good grub, besides envy, greed and gluttony were close siblings. A minimal push by succubi was enough to have Jewell recklessly stuff herself with food, the only wealth she can get her hands nowadays. It's almost... no IT IS amusing and hot, our ruberian captive is gorging herself with greasy food one minute, then shouting for more, only to engage in a series of uncomfortably looking exercises, often with a still distended gut. If it wasn't for those Jewell would likely be even fatter, then again she isn't exactly small and the decreasing amount of extra activity lately fully stopped. The thief had always been quite curvacious despite her lean muscles, it was a bit of surprise when all lard began going straight to her ass with belly as a second. "Only" third fattest woman in my realm had buttchecks the size of award-winning pumpkins, and just a bit slimmer thighs which made even waddling a complicated task. The belly above it was a much smaller collection of rolls and her breast expanded comparably slightly, the same with her face, which merely lost her sharp cheekbones. Again I'm not sure what is more amusing, her disdain at being fat, or anger at wealthy women that weren't far behind in terms of weight. To be honest I'm not sure if her current dubious mentality is an effect of my succubi or the Second. Jewell seemed a bit unhinged to me, even when we first met as Heroes and everybody admitted that she was a bitch. Hell... Khan who loved her blindly admitted this. FUCK I___ I'm trying to distract myself, but it isn't working. For the first time since I remember I cannot control the fear inside me. There is no enemy for me to crush, no opposition or even social unrest Rose's pregnant with my child and I'm scared shitless. I could blame it on possible complications from the magic that had changed my body, on possible assassination attempts, on how Rose's size may affect our child, and finally as a possible uprising from a legitimate heir. No, with those I can deal with, either by patience, by force or through arcane whose's secrets Rose began to learn. The simple fact was that neither of us is fit to be a parent. We put on brave faces, but both know it, although I more than ROse, which worries me. I'm the Overlord, the master of Evil - ultimately weak argument, I know of several dictators who were decent enough fathers. But even as a Hero I wasn't the most sociable of people, I often ended up simply frightening children we had been stumbling upon. Second, I was an orphan and like many in my situation raised collectively by the village, it made us good at our chosen trades, given solidarity. Certainly didn't give us a good idea of what a family should be, which I painfully learned much later in life. Rose is arguably worse. She knows notions of proper family, but those memories are often bad or disappointing. I love my Mistress, but I understand her lack of success in romance before. She's a hard woman to love, often and automatically assigning structure to things that should never have one. Even shows of affection tended to follow a certain procedure when performed by her. I know that it's partially her way of coping with emotions and lacking knowledge in those areas. But it's also a result of her obsession with Order. Yes, it's an obsession, sometimes hard for her to control and often the main reason for our disagreements. There needs to be a rigid structure for everything and everybody has to follow it in an orderly manner, Rose doesn't need to be on the head or control it, but it must exist and be mercilessly executed. I fear how she'll deal with something as chaotic and unknown to her as an infant. I know Rose loves me I know she already loves her child, but I fear. Then there's the obvious and easy-to-apply solution that would deal with all possible problems. The physician who reminded me of it after examining my Mistress ended with pulverized head along with a portion of the wall behind him. Rose merely scolded me for making a mess. I know there's no point in premature worrying, that all we can do is prepare to the best of our abilities. This policy isn't working for me, for the first time in decades. Like Rose, I delve into parenting books, despite that most of them seem rubbish. But I also started to write. I'm no scholar, but I travelled and I partook in many trades, I amassed a wealth of practical knowledge that sometimes surprises even my Mistress. I'm also the current Overlord, lord of Evil and undisputed ruler of the majority of known, civilized lands. Rose blindly believes in the Order we've built, but there may be some fucker or another company of "Heroes" in the near future to go against us. When I followed the Wizard our task seemed impossible, but here we are. I prefer to be safe than sorry. *** I wish I was wrong. I really do. *** Normally, I would have enjoyed battling the wraiths and other denizens of the Abyss, I would relish watching Sir William's suffering. Normally. Not now, when Rose is weeks away from giving birth to our firstborn. Any dangers have to be dealt with, swiftly. Gateways to the Abyss, even pockets of it, radiating some mind magic, are a fucking danger. And Rose was telling me magical barriers around towns and villages were pointless. We just managed to gather artefacts to open the big gate in the desert. Rose has her doubts about opening it and I share them. The crux is, that it may open on its own given time, and there's no way to know how the infernal energies would affect us in long run. I cannot afford it. It may be foolish, even Overlord may fall against whatever power dwells within this cursed realm, but I won't let anything endanger my... "Are you again reading that old thing?" The man closed a falling-apart notebook and with meticulous care put it on the shelf above his head. His appearance was unique, his face was beautiful, not simply handsome or feminine, but simply beautiful and betrayed his relatively young age, he was exceptionally muscular and broad-shouldered, though not enough to make his appearance that of a mindless brute. Here resemblances to fairly-tale prince ended, as the semi-naked youth was well over a head taller than the mightiest of human men, his skin had a dark shade of blue and was covered in strange, white patterns, that seemed like vines, pulsing with power. His royal visage was adorned by white hair and eyes burning with infernal fire. "Sorry, Kelda. I didn't wish to wake you" he whispered back carefully. His voice was a strange mix, just as his appearance, like velvet and crow's cry. "I'm waiting for YOU to lay down. I know your limits witch-boy" replied the young woman on his right and touched his arm. Her touch was soft, and the tall man noticed a faded scar, a hunting souvenir on it. She won't get any more of those. I made sure of it The woman lying on the matters was tall beauty from harsh Nordberg, with firey hair and such temper. However, It would be hard to tell it now, given her current appearance. Kelda was enormously fat, pounds over pounds of lard covered her once mighty muscles, so once great hunter was unable to take a step without help. Her round gut was alike a mountain and poured so far on the bed that she was barely able to touch her lover. The rest of her body was almost equally overpampered, old hunting scars swallowed into flesh that prevented all but a few motions. "Well, I was asleep, thanks." grumbled a silky voice from the other side of the room-sized bed. The woman there was no lighter than the ginger's, but at the same, she was her opposite. The brunette was a former jewel of imperial perfection, skin and body who never experienced truly taxing, physical work. With flawless skin, darkened only by a careful sunbathing in the tropical soon. Unlike Kelda, whose adipose was mostly evenly spread through her body, only focusing a bit more on her gut, the imperial woman's fat was stored mostly in her curves. In the impossibly large chest, both orbs as heavy as a grown man and equally enormous ass that took an entire couch. She had a large belly, composed of two thick rolls but it was simply overshadowed by her mountainous assets. Her unique figure forced her to sleep on her sides or in very elaborate contraptions of matters and pillows. To the magic-wielding man, she was more of a jewel than ever before. "And where is Fay? We're supposed to have our hair done together tomorrow" added Juno after she looked around, or what rather after looking as far as she could with her immobilized, obese body. "She was held up in the forest, but promised to join us for breakfast" replied the young Overlord, before the fiery-haired Mistress could respond with a snide remark, and slid down under a blanket. "Goodnight" Not a minute later he heard a familiar breath, but then his abnormally hard body was squeezed by a Nordbergian woman. He moved closer to her, feeling the known and welcoming acceptance of her fat. "You've been doing that a lot lately. Reading that musty book I mean. I know it means a lot to you, but there's only so much you can get from it. I know that you don't like her, but maybe you could try talking to Rose... You know to get history right, no mushy feelings involved" whispered my first and truest Mistress to me with concern. I signed. Do I dislike my... mother? Probably. Probably more than dislike. Should I do it anyway? "I'll think about it"