MarzipanDude's Stuff

“Oh come on!” she whispered to herself, feeling slightly nauseous. Dinner had been about three hours ago, and yet her bloated stomach was still working away on the contents of her last feast, a task that was considerably harder now thanks to it being squished against the door frame. Cora sighed; it wasn't like she hadn't been expecting something like this to crop up soon.

It had been just over two weeks since Cora arrived at the temple, and it was becoming clearer with every day that being the 'Goddess' of the temple did not necessarily mean that you were the one in charge. Granted, for most of the day she could do as she pleased: sleep, bathe, explore, or call upon any servant to assist her in nearly any manner. It seemed that the only thing she couldn't do in her free time was actually leave the temple (nobody wanted their precious Goddess mucking about in the streets with the 'filthy commoners'). But all of that changed the moment mealtime rolled around; the second it was time for breakfast, lunch, or dinner – three words Cora was beginning to dread more and more – she'd be dragged from wherever she was, sometimes literally, to the dining hall, and filled with food until she was stuffed full like a piece of carry-on luggage with a baby rhino inside. 'Goddess' was certainly an impressive title, but when it came time to eat, Cora was at the complete mercy of her handmaidens.

As expected, with her gorging – willing or not – came the added burden of adipose. Fat had not so much creeped onto her figure as it had pounced on it. Her already indecent ceremonial robes were covering less and less every day, if only because there was more and more Cora that they were failing to hide. Cora could feel the unfamiliar globes of her titanic ass cheeks also pressed up against the door frame, a reminder that no human being should have as much to eat in their life as she had had in the last few hours, let alone weeks.

With a grunt of effort, Cora shoved herself free, momentum pitching her forward. She stopped, teetered for a bit on the tips of her toes, her bulk threatening to send her tumbling, before managing to fall back on her heels and remain standing. She wiped her brow with the back of her pudgy hand. That had been close; had she fallen, she might not have been able to get back up, and ruin her one shot at escape.

Well, it was probably more appropriate to say that that this was her last shot; she had had plenty of opportunities to try and escape, but she always hesitated. It was a tough call between being poor and having your stomach hurt because there was nothing in it, and being worshiped and having your stomach hurt for the exact opposite reason. Maybe, she thought, she might get used to the smorgasbord approach to water boarding, and it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe they might slow down a tad when they realized it was getting harder and harder for her to walk every day, her strides slowly transitioning into a humiliating waddle that left her out of breath just trying to get down the hall. But neither happened, and there was no sign of her growth slowing down. Cora was on the edge of the cliff of mobility, staring down into the dark abyss of a future where she sat helpless, pinned by the weight of her own body as her handmaidens poured an endless stream of world-class meals down her reluctant, yet powerless gullet. Or at least that's what she would see assuming her now enormous breasts wouldn't be in the way.

Cora shuddered at the image of herself, immobile. She had to get out of this madhouse before that happened; she rather liked using her legs.

She started off down the hallway, moving her chunky legs slowly and steadily, down to where the temple's entrance was. It wasn't terribly far from her room – a left turn, followed by a right, and then another left – but for how long it was taking for her it might as well have been miles. It took her half an hour to reach the first corner, drenched in sweat that glistened on her rolls, and it was only about twenty or so feet from where she had started. But she had to keep going. If she got caught it would all be over.

A few more minutes of (relatively) brisk shuffling, and she was beginning to sputter. She hadn't moved this much on her own in quite a while; usually there were handmaidens nearby to relieve some weight, or, if there were enough of them, even carry her. Not that any of them would willingly help her reach the exit. For now she'd just have to carry her obese body herself, even if it did mean hauling the combined weight of what was essentially five Coras.

More art of Cora graced this hall like all the others. Cora thought she would have gotten used to all of it by now, but they all had an air of eeriness to them. It didn't matter whether they were painted, sculpted, or carved, they all looked exactly like her (a few hundreds pounds ago, sure, but still). They were perfect. Too perfect to be made like that by chance. Patri and the other girls were convinced this was a sign from above that Cora was their returned Goddess, Mearae, or whatever her name was, but Cora certainly didn't feel like she fit the part. Mearae had apparently wanted her hips destroyed by several million calories when she got back from … wherever it was deities hung out, while Cora was, on the whole, less enthusiastic about the idea.

Huffing with the effort of a triathlete, Cora spotted a small break in the artwork in the form of an alcove inserted into the wall. A place designed for someone to sit and rest their weary legs, outfitted with soft velvet cushioning, and home to a mountain of pillows. With the next turn still a couple dozen feet away it was far too attractive for Cora to resist. She hobbled over, and crashed on the seat, instantly feeling relief in her over-taxed legs. She reached over her gut – a feat in itself at this point – And began to massage her thighs to relieve the ache she felt, hands pushing her soft flesh around like brushing aside a cloud. She reclined back on the pillow pile, eyelids feeling heavy. She shouldn't fall asleep; she had to escape, but a small nap wouldn't hurt, right? The night was pretty long, and it had only just started. Her eyes began to close …

“... Look, all I'm saying is that I think she's attractive, okay?”

… And immediately snapped open again.

“You should not speak your thoughts so freely!” warned a second voice down the hall. “If her Grace overhears you, who knows what sort of punishment she will inflict.”

“I don't know about that; she doesn't exactly seem like the vengeful type,” said the first voice, undoubtedly closer than it was before. “She mostly just gets angry whenever we feed her.”

“She is just testing our loyalty. She would not have given us her divine instructions if she did not want us to follow them.”

“Are we sure about that? Once or twice I could understand, but she gets mad every time. We're positive that she actually does want us to fatten her up?”

“Absolutely.”

The first voice snickered. “Well, no complaints here. I always love a little extra meat.”

“Alexis! Honestly!”

“Sorry, sorry. I know you don't want to hear about that stuff.”

Adrenaline flooded Cora's system. Two handmaidens were heading down the hall, and the alcove was the only thing hiding her from view. The second they passed it, however, she'd be so exposed she might as well be naked, and her escape would be ruined. She needed to hide, but where? She couldn't leave her seat, or else she'd be spotted. She looked at the pillows she was resting on. They'd have to do.

As quickly as she dared, Cora started moving the pillows around, taking them from their spot, and piling them on top of herself. Eventually, she managed to move the entire heap, and placed herself underneath, completely concealed, with a little bit of space to peek out from.

It turned out to be just in time; right as she put the last pillow into place, the two girls stepped into view. They were about a foot apart in height, but other than that they could have passed for twins. Cora recognized them from the feasts, but she'd never bothered to actually learn their names. It didn't matter; she'd just have to wait for them to pass by and turn the corner, and then she could keep moving.

“Hey,” said the tall one, stopping in front of the alcove. Alexis, by the sound of it. “You wanna take a breather for a sec? My feet are killing me.”

“Certainly,” replied the shorter of the two. “You must be exhausted from tending to Kleo all day. Come, let us rest for a moment.”

Shit.

The two handmaidens plopped down in the alcove, Alexis taking the side with Cora's pillow disguise on it. She leaned back into the pile, resting on it, and exerting pressure onto Cora's concealed belly. Cora resisted to urge to simultaneously belch and moan in pain; at this distance even breathing too hard would tip the girls off to her hiding place, but the thought didn't help her ignore the discomfort.

“Is it just me or does this pillow mound seem bigger than usual?” asked Alexis.

Cora saw the second girl smile through her cushiony spy hole. “Perhaps one of the newer girls made a mistake when distributing them this morning. Do not trouble yourself with them; you've had a long enough day as it is.”

“I hear ya.” Alexis shifted in her seat to get more comfortable, agitating Cora's stomach even further. Cora had to clench her teeth to avoid letting even a single groan slip. “Nice and soft though. D'ya think this is what her Grace feels like?”

The second girl grimaced for a moment, then spoke again. “How is Kleo by the way?” she asked, ignoring her friend's question. “I have not seen her in days, and I have heard terrible things.”

“It's pretty bad, actually,” Alexis answered. “Before today the last time I saw her was that episode in the servant's quarters. Everybody was snoozing fine, then Kleo wakes up and just starts screaming and panicking for no reason! Like she was possessed or something.”

“Goodness!”

“She got taken to a private chamber, and she's been there ever since. Smash cut to today: I get told I'm supposed to take care of her til midnight when someone else takes over. So I go to her room, and, not gonna lie, it was freaky.”

“How so?”

“Well, first she's mumbling almost the whole time, and when she's not she's either yelling or crying. But she's always saying the same stuff: 'everything's wrong', 'who am I', 'it's a lie', 'It's all a lie', and other stuff like that. She tries to get out of bed sometimes, but instead of walking she does this weird kind of shamble. Says she's looking for 'the liar' or something.”

Cora tried to ignore the pain surging through her gut thanks to Alexis, and thought about Kleo. Cora hadn't seen her since her headaches in front of the bath when she'd first got here. Had that been the precursor to this strange illness Alexis was talking about?

“That's not even the weirdest part,” Alexis continued. “The weirdest part is … well …” She paused.

“It's what?” inquired the second girl.

“Well, I'm gonna sound crazy for saying this, but Kleo has this … 'aura' around her.”

“Aura?”

Alexis shifted uncomfortably, making Cora wince. “It's weird, but the longer you stay around Kleo, the stranger you start to feel. I can't really describe it. It's sort of like a feeling that you're supposed to be somewhere else, but you don't know where 'somewhere else' is. Then you start getting anxious and stuff, like something bad's gonna happen if you don't get there.”

The second girl frowned “I am not sure I understand.”

“Like I said, I can't really describe it. If you get close to her you'll know what I mean; lots of the other girls have felt it too.”

“Well, lets hope that it does not spread, whatever it is. It sound like the poor thing is-”

A distant crash sounded from the direction of Cora's room.

“What was that?” Alexis asked.

The second girl sighed. “I hope that it is not something valuable. Come along then, Alexis; Someone might need some help.” With that the two girls stood and continued their trek down the hall.

As soon as they were out of sight Cora lumbered out of her hiding place, scattering pillows everywhere. Those girls could very well come back soon so there was no time to waste. As quickly as her heavy body allowed, Cora waddled determinedly in the direction of the exit, bulky belly swaying to and fro with the momentum of her movements.

She managed to make it around the next corner, and pushed herself to just before the last. She had almost made it! The door to the outside world was just one turn and a dozen feet away! She leaned against the wall, a feeling of partial victory in her grasp, gasping like a man who had almost drowned. No one had even seen her either! A perfect escape by all accounts, and with her this close to her goal, no one could stop her even if they did spot her. With assured confidence she turned the corner.

And ran straight into a handmaiden.

Her back was turned, and despite Cora's larger-than-normal proportions (in the same way that a mountain in larger than a normal rock) and heavy foot falls, she hadn't seemed to notice her approach. Cora froze on the spot, not only because she was nervous about being caught when she was so close to leaving this nuthouse, but because there was something … off about the girl before her; her walk seemed a little odd, she appeared to be mumbling to herself, and, while Cora couldn't put her finger on it, there was just an air of 'wrongness' about her. And yet there was something familiar there too. Cora took a tentative step backwards; familiar or no, she didn't want to risk being seen at all.

As if reading her mind the girl spun around disjointedly. It was Kleo.

“You ...” she breathed.

“H-hey Kleo!” Cora said. “It's, uh … been a while, hasn't it? I wasn't doing anything suspicious, I was just on my way to … get a midnight snack, that's all!” At the mention of more food Cora's stomach protested in the form of a low gurgle.

“You're her ...” Kleo said, half-mumbling. “The liar.”

“The what?”

Kleo took a step forward towards Cora. Cora noted that while Kleo's eyes were pointed in her direction, they seemed unfocused, as if they weren't looking at anything at all.

“It's wrong, it's all wrong ...” She took another groggy step forward. “Everything here is all wrong!”

“O-okay, Kleo, let's calm down a bit. Wouldn't want to wake everybody up, right?” Cora was beginning to get uncomfortable. Not only because of the clearly delirious woman stumbling towards her (though that certainly didn't help), but also because the closer Kleo got, the stranger things started to feel. Nothing was physically changing, but Kleo's approach was making the walls and floors feel warped, different than they should be. The paintings of Cora on the wall were looking out of place, like they shouldn't have been up there to begin with. Cora felt a growing feeling in her chest that she desperately needed to go somewhere other than where she was was, but she couldn't fathom where.

“It's your fault ... You stole it,” Kleo hissed, still marching on.

“S-stole w-what?” Cora stammered. The feelings were getting worse. The shorter the distance between the two of them the more wrong everything started to feel. Cora felt like a stranger in her own bulbous body, an invader in the reality she'd spent her entire life in.

Kleo was watching Cora hungrily from a few feet away. “It's mine,” she said. “Give it back …”

“K-Kleo, please,” Cora whimpered, stepping away. “You're scaring me.” She was having trouble focusing now; everything was blurring into a mess.

“It's wrong, I'm wrong, you're wrong … Give it back …”

Cora couldn't think of anything to say. She was terrified.  She stood in front of Kleo, mouth opening and closing around half-formed words as the world seemingly shifted around her.

Kleo scowled. “Give it BACK!” With the speed of winter wind, The handmaiden pounced on Cora, sending them both crashing to the ground, Cora's blubber jiggling violently on impact. Kleo was perched atop Cora's belly, pinning her arms to the floor with surprising strength, and digging her nails into Cora's soft flesh.

“It's mine!” Kleo cried from the hill of Cora's still stuffed gut. “Everything's wrong! You stole it, give it back!”

Cora's mind was far away from the pain of her overburdened stomach, filled with terror as it was. “I-I don't know what you're talking about!” she yelled. “Please! Let me go!”

“Liar! Liar! LIAR!” Kleo moved her hands from Cora's flabby arms to her chubby cheeks.

Instantly, Cora felt a headache like nothing she'd ever experienced before. Her vision went black, and an ache quickly crept from the back of her skull throughout her entire cranium. It flared in intensity, pain lighting up every part of her brain like a thunderbolt on a dark sky.

Then, just as quickly, the pain stopped. Cora's vision returned, and the temple's ceiling faded back into view. Kleo was no longer on top of her. A groaning noise off to her left revealed that the handmaiden had fallen off and onto the floor, cradling her head to show that she was now suffering from the same headache Cora had just had a moment ago. As Cora stared, the world began to warp again. She looked away; the less she saw of … whatever that was, the better.

“What on earth happened here?!” cried someone behind her.

Looking up while still on her back, Cora spotted the upside-down faces of Patri, Alexis, and Alexis' friend from before, all of them filled with shock and confusion.

“My Goddess! Are you alright?” Patri rushed over and knelt beside Cora's face, grabbed her by the shoulders, and somehow hoisted her up into a seated position.

“I-I don't know,” Cora said shakily. “Kleo just attacked me, and everything was …” Cora struggled to think of the right words. How could she describe the acid trip she'd just been through?

Patri gave her a few comforting pats. “Well, everything's okay now at least.” She turned to Alexis who was – very cautiously – looking over Kleo. “Who was supposed to be taking care of her after you?”

Before Alexis could answer another girl rounded the corner. Upon seeing Kleo, she gave a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank Goodness!” She ran over to where Alexis was by Kleo, but came to a screeching halt when she saw Patri. “S-sister Patri!” she exclaimed. “Please, it wasn't my fault! I just left the room to relieve myself, and when I came back she was gone, I swear!”

Patri looked back to Alexis, who nodded. She sighed. “It's too late, and I'm too tired to hand out punishments now. Take Kleo back to her room, and make sure that you don't ever leave her alone until your replacement comes in the morning. Understand?”

“Yes, Sister Patri, of course.” With what was unmistakably relief, the new girl brought the delirious Kleo to a standing position, and led her gently away, while Patri and the others helped Cora to her feet.

Patri pinched her brow. “Honestly, tonight is getting more stressful by the minute. First my duties take me late into the night, then I accidentally break my favorite mug, and now this.” She turned to Cora. “Which begs the question, what are you doing up so late, my Goddess? Are you feeling unwell?”

Cora glanced behind her at the exit, a set of two massive oak doors with gold inlay, the only way in an out of the temple. They were only about ten feet away from where she stood. For a brief moment she considered bolting for it, using every ounce of her strength to dash to freedom, but a glance down was all it took to ruin that idea. Her seat-destroying rear, her planet-like gut, her appropriately dubbed melons; her body was handicapped by it all, every flabby pound an anchor preventing haste of any kind. She could make it one foot, maybe two, before Patri caught her, and what would she do then? Fight her off with the slow, lumbering swings of her doughy arms? No, her only option was to try and talk her way to freedom, buy enough time alone to waddle at her own pace to the exit.

“I was just trying to get a midnight snack is all,” she answered. She didn't think they'd be able to get anything intelligible out of Kleo, but on the off chance that they did she at least wanted her stories to match up.

“Oh!” exclaimed Kleo. “Well, then there's no time to waste!” She darted forward and grabbed Cora's hand. She pointed to the other girls. “You two. Go find some more handmaidens to assist in her Grace's feast.”

Alexis and her friend nodded, bowed slightly, muttered a quick “Thank you for your presence,” at Cora, and sped off. Patri, meanwhile, began dragging Cora to the dining hall.

“Feast?!” Cora said, trying to fight against Kleo's iron grip and failing. “I said a 'snack'! A-and I can handle that myself!”

“Nonsense, Goddess. It is as I have said: we exist to relieve your of effort. It would be like an insult if you were to feed yourself without us. And I will make sure that your 'snack' is large enough to curb any hunger pains you might be having. After this, you'll sleep like a newborn.”

Cora couldn't believe what she was hearing. Patri's reasoning was so backwards it seemed less like justification, and more like an excuse just to stuff Cora full of more food. She thought to argue, but nothing she could think of would dissuade the clearly insane woman holding her hand.

A feeling of dread and anguish began to fill Cora's chest. This was it. Her attempt at escape had failed. By tomorrow night the last of her mobility would be buried under an avalanche of fattening meals, and the outside world would be nothing more than a pipe dream; she was going to be stuck here, eternally force-fed and fattened for the rest of her life.

The dining hall doors were coming up on her left. Silently, Cora prayed. She'd never been religious – living on the streets for most of your life tends to destroy your faith in most things – so she had no idea what to pray to, or even how to pray at all. It was more of a silent cry for help, a single S.O.S. signal sent out with the hope of attracting some greater power in the universe to step in and interfere with her fate. As Patri took them through the doors and guided her up to the throne at the head of the table, Cora hoped that something out in the cosmos could hear her thoughts.

“And this is your personal dining hall!” said the handmaiden with a flourish of excitement.

Cora peered in through the oaken door. The dining hall alone was bigger than any building she'd ever been in before, stretching so far down that she had to squint to see the other end, and the ceiling tiles, marble to match the ones down below, were so high above them they were indistinguishable from each other. The other entrance across from them was a football field's length away alone! The whole room was a gleaming masterpiece of white marble with paintings of exotic landscapes and ornate candles hanging on the walls. A dark wooden table stretched the length of the room with a gigantic golden throne at its head.

Cora gulped. “Seems a bit excessive.”

The handmaiden laughed. “'Excessive' she says! As if she didn't deserve it! Oh, Goddess, you are a delight!”

“You can call me Cora.”

“Use your mortal name? Perish the thought, my Goddess! True you may have been reincarnated as a mere mortal, but such a name stains your holy image!”

“Uh … if you say so, Ms … ?”

The handmaiden gasped. “A thousand pardons, your grace; I would have offered it sooner had I known you would concern yourself with lowly worshipers such as I. My name is Patri, but feel free to address me as anything you wish. Even insults should it please you.”

“Patri is fine. And you can tone it down a little, okay? I'm already impressed.”

“As you wish,” said Patri. She gave a little bow that shook her long, straight brown hair “That concludes the tour I'm afraid. Would you care for a bath? I know how … difficult it can be rubbing elbows with those in the streets. But you needn't worry, Goddess; your life of hardship is over now.”

Cora looked down at her hands, smudged with dirt. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually bathed; A hot tub of water wasn't exactly a common find in the slums.

“Sounds great to me.”

“Excellent!” Patri said. “Right this way!” She strode back out into the hallway, Cora following close behind.

As they walked down the hall, Cora couldn't help but be unnerved by the décor; hundreds upon hundreds of pieces – paintings, statues, tapestries – borrowed her image in immaculate detail. The took everything from her wavy black hair, to the coolness of her blue eyes, and even manged to place every freckle on her face in exactly the right spot. And she couldn't remember posing for any of them. Unsurprising, seeing how they'd all been made centuries before her birth. She eyed a painting of what looked like herself spread out on a palanquin, being fed grapes by a faceless woman, and couldn't stop herself from thinking that the artist had been a little too frugal with their paint when it came to her clothes.

“Remarkable, isn't it?” said Patri. “I'll admit, When I first heard that the reincarnation of our glorious Goddess Mearae was found amongst the … commoners,” she shivered at the word, “I refused to believe it. I thought it ridiculous, laughable even. But the resemblance is almost unreal, every depiction matches you perfectly. There's no doubt about it; our Goddess has returned to us!” Patri practically bounced with glee down the hall.

If that's what you think, Cora thought. This whole thing was a little hard to swallow. As a beggar Cora had never had a holy bone in her body; what had the Gods ever done for her? Still, Patri had a point; the fact that she matched Mearae point for point in terms of looks made it just as hard to believe that it was all just a coincidence either.

Another oaken door approached on the left, another handmaiden standing by it. Sweet smells began to fill Cora's nostrils from beyond the door, one she recognized from a distant memory as 'soap'.

“Ah, Sister Patri,” said the new handmaiden. “I was hoping to speak with you.” She glanced at Cora, then did a double take. “Oh! A thousand pardons, your grace! I meant no disrespect by not addressing you first!”

“It's fine,” said Cora, a little sheepish. “Really no big deal honestly.”

“The matter will have to wait, Sister Kleo” said Patri, “Her holiness has just requested a bath, and she will need attendants.”

“I see,” said Kleo. “In that case I would be honored to assist.”

“Wait, you want to come with me?”

“Naturally,” said Kleo. “To expect our Goddess to perform any labor is simply- … ugh …” she put her hand to her forehead, fingers parting her short midnight hair. “Apologies, your grace, I … seem to have become unwell. That aside, I'm still more than capable to- Ahh!” Kleo clamped both hands to the side of her head, as if she were trying to keep it from splitting open.

“L-look it's fine, okay?” Cora eased. “I can take a bath by myself.”

“Are you sure, my Goddess?” Patri asked.

Cora nodded.

Patri draped a reassuring arm across the pained Kleo's shoulders. “In that case, I will escort Sister Kleo to her chambers, and help her recover.” She gave a half bow to Cora. “Thank you for your presence, Goddess.”

“Thank you for your presence ...” Kleo mimicked weakly.

Cora watched as the two handmaidens disappeared down the hall and around a corner. She let out a breath of relief. Finally, she was alone. She'd been accompanied since she'd been plucked off the street early in the morning, and everyone she'd met after that had been obsessed with her, especially Patri. It honestly worried her a little bit; she tried to dismiss her fears as being unused to all the attention after years of being dismissed as a street rat, yet they seemed to remain. Still, being pampered and worshiped as a reincarnation of a Goddess from eons ago beat stealing every meal and sleeping on cobblestone any day of the week.

Cora open the oaken door on her left and gasped. Inside was a bath of steaming water large enough to give an Olympic swimming pool an inferiority complex. Various islands of colorful bubbles floated across the water's surface, which was lit a golden red by the blazing torches nearby. She cautiously dipped a foot in, and felt the comfortably hot broth send shivers up her spine.

Goddess or not, she could get used to this.

-

On the other hand, she might need some time to adjust to the uniform.

“A perfect fit!” Patri exclaimed, clapping her hands. “How does it feel?”

Cora looked down at herself. While her old rags had been ratty, at least they had covered her up. Her new 'ceremonial garb' (as Patri had called it) was little more than a flashy bathing suit. Her stringy top was woven with golden thread that crisscrossed around her back, neck, and shoulders, reflecting even the tiniest light thrown on it, and covering her modest breasts with the subtlety of a fireworks display. Below was a hoop belt made of the same material, equipped with twin pieces of ruby fabric that hung to her knees in front and behind, the only things hiding her nethers from the viewing eye.

“A little drafty, I guess,” she said, praying that the temple wasn't prone to strong gusts of wind.

“Well, in time I'm sure you'll find it quite comfortable,” Patri assured. “Now, it is a little late for it, but we've just put the finishing touches on a splendid feast for dinner in your honor, Goddess. If I may guide you back to the dining hall?”

At the prospect of eating, Cora's stomach rumbled. In the excitement of being shown around Mearae's temple, she'd completely forgotten about food. Eagerly, she followed Patri back to the dining hall, which had been completely transformed.

The entire room was occupied by an army of servants, all of them handmaidens like Patri, carrying dishes to and fro into the room and across the table. Laden with food, the table seemed to creak under the combined weight of every delicacy; it seemed as if every meal imaginable had been prepared. Fine cheeses, exotic meats, and fruits and vegetables appeared several times, prepared in several different manners. A thick fog of steam rose from the banquet, filling the air with a festival of scents that made Cora's mouth start pouring like a waterfall.

Patri whisked Cora up to the throne up by the table's head, shooed away some girls who had been fluffing the seat's cushions, and set her down. As soon as Cora looked up, two new girls approached her, food in hand.

“Would my Goddess care for some sea bass?” asked the one to her left, extending a platter with several grilled fish on it.

“Or perhaps she would enjoy some freshly baked bread?” added the one on the right, holding out a sliced loaf with a tub of butter on the side.

Cora sat in somewhat shocked silence. She looked to Patri beside her, confused.

Patri smiled. “You needn't worry about feeding yourself, my Goddess. We exist to relieve you of effort.”

Cora shrugged. “Then … fish sounds good, I guess.”

Immediately, the food was pushed past her lips with a golden fork. The taste was unreal; Cora wasn't actually a huge fan of fish, and she hadn't anticipated anything outstanding from the temple's cooks, but the unique combination of spices and sauces had outpaced her wildest expectations. She ran the rough meat over her tongue. It was savory like a steak, sweet like sugar, and every bit as spicy as hot lava. In short: it was the best thing she'd ever eaten, and it was only the first bite.

She swallowed, and opened her mouth for more.

As she ate, Cora noticed the other handmaidens detaching themselves from their positions at the  walls. They each picked a platter off of the table, and queued behind the sea bass girl. When her plate was free of food, the next took her place and continued tantalizing Cora's tastebuds with expertly concocted dishes. After fish there was salad, then chicken, then bread, and then a block of tangy cheese. Every now and again another girl would approach Cora and offer her a crystal goblet of wine, a small crimson pond in a veritable wonderland of food.

“You sure have a lotta people on staff,” Cora noted about an hour later, between mouthfuls of stew.

“We certainly do,” said Patri. “The temple has over 200 young girls dedicated to you, my Goddess, and all of them are either in the kitchens, or in this very hall right now.” She paused. “Well, almost all of them.”

“Almost?” asked Cora, now onto a tray full of tarts.

“Kleo still isn't feeling very well, and was unable to attend. I fear her condition, whatever it may be, might actually be getting worse. She seemed delusional the last time I checked on her, spouting out nothing but madness.” Patri sighed. “A shame she will never see this first of many feasts.”

“About that, I think I may be just about done.” Cora looked down to her belly, swollen with the many bites she'd taken. She rubbed it tenderly, and belched slightly. “Ooh, I think I might have overdone it.”

A few hushed whispers brushed by Cora's ears. Looking up from her food baby, she saw many of the handmaidens sharing concerned glances with one another, and staring at her with worry.

Cora blinked. “Did I say something wrong?”

Beside her, Patri coughed nervously. “Well, my Goddess, it's just that … there is still food on the table. Quite a lot as a matter of fact.”

Cora looked over the remaining feast. She'd barely even touched an eighth of it, and yet she was fit to burst.

“You guys don't have any cold storage?”

“That is not the issue, but there is no need to fret! We will remedy this.” Patri clapped her hands, and the handmaidens nodded to one another. A sense of understanding enveloped the room, touching everyone but Cora.

“Uh … remedy what exac – mff!” Cora's sentence was cut short by a handmaiden shoving another butter tart in her mouth. She swallowed on instinct. “Hey! What's the big idea?! I said I was fu-mmph!”

“I know much knowledge of your former life has escaped you, my Goddess, but how could you have forgotten your sacred words to us?”

“Facref worff?!” Cora asked, currently choking down a hefty amount of potatoes. The handmaidens were relentless; they stuffed food into her with such speed that she didn't have the time to spit anything out! She could barely even breathe! Hands were clamped to her shoulders and wrists, holding her to the chair; she was stuck!

“Your instructions! Your final message to us those many centuries ago before you left us to wander like children!” Patri cleared her throat. “'From fire to fields I have given you much, and now you'll learn the same.'”

“'The bounties you reap are mine to keep; I'll collect when I come again,'” chanted every handmaiden in the hall, not a single person out of rhythm.

“'Every morsel be mine, every crumb you'll return, lest your fruitful ages will end.'”

“'Then fall upon you an apocalypse new. So my hunger you will attend.'”

As the echo in the hall died, Patri looked to Cora. “We're just following your commands, Goddess.”

“Well, awm commuffing you to ftop!” Cora shouted through a mouthful of roast beef. What had started as an uncomfortable fullness was now crossing over the threshold into a painful one. Cora's over-inflated stomach was pushing farther and farther out onto her lap with every unwilling swallow; round like a watermelon, and tight as a cannonball.

“Testing our faith? You needn't trouble yourself!” Patri said, a confident smile spreading across her face. “We remain steadfast in our loyalty, my Goddess. We are unwavering.”

Terror began to fill Cora's mind as yet more food filled her mouth. They thought she was testing them, that she was seeing if they held true to that stupid rhyme and would enact judgment accordingly. Nothing she could say would stop them from this. She struggled in her throne to no avail, pinned not only by the hands of her servants, but by the considerable weight of her bulging belly that grew every second.

Cora's stomach was working overtime on its contents, desperate to make room, and it was beginning to show; Cora's formerly wiry frame was beginning to grow soft. Her entire body was inflating slowly like a balloon as God only knows how much food was being converted to fat in almost the blink of an eye. The servants' hand were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight on her plush arms, and her throne was beginning to feel smaller and smaller as her scantily clad rump thickened. Being stuffed like a thanksgiving turkey had turned her from 'thin' to 'pleasantly plump' in record time, and the meal wasn't even over yet.

The worst part was the girls' smiles though. As they forced shovelfuls of food down her throat, every handmaiden wore a smile of pure innocence, as if nothing was wrong. As if this was how it was supposed to be. As if they were actually enjoying this. And there was always more of them; a line of girls stretching all the way from the other end of the room to her throne, eagerly waiting with platters in their hands to give to their Goddess, whether she wanted them or not.

“Open wide, my Goddess,” said a short girl with a plate full of salmon.

Cora sat helplessly as the fish was effortlessly pressed passed her closed mouth. Not even closing the floodgates seemed to halt the onslaught of delicacies forced her way. The serving girl's elbow brushed Cora's engorged gut, sending needles of pain through her.

It went on for hours. Nothing Cora could think of would lead to an end other than finishing the whole meal. To her surprise, rather than exploding like an atom bomb, her stomach managed to contain everything remarkably well. It certainly voiced its concerns; growling and groaning as food churned and sloshed around inside it. All the while it grew almost constantly, stretching her skin to its limits just to hold everything. The servants had to start circumventing it at one point, feeding Cora from the side instead of head on. It hurt every time someone touched it. It hurt every time Cora swallowed another morsel for it to contain. It hurt even when there was nothing happening at all, an ache that screamed at her that she was full. Too full. She wasn't going to last much longer, but all she could do was wince and bear it.

Cora clenched her eyes shut as she forced another mouthful of something delicious down her throat (she stopped paying attention about halfway through), and awaited the next sickening bite with dread. But it never came. She opened her eyes. No handmaiden approached her with a dish in hand. She looked over the horizon of her swollen belly, and felt a wave of relief.

The table was empty.

“Was everything to your liking, my Goddess?” said Patri, an expectant smile on her face.

Cora blinked. In all the commotion, she'd forgotten that Patri was even in the room. She opened her mouth to say something biting, but was interrupted by a loud belch that forced its way out of her throat.

“Ooooogh ...” Forget chewing Patri out; she wouldn't listen, and Cora was drained from her unwanted binge. She stood up to leave, wobbled unsteadily for a second, and plopped back down in her throne, her ridiculous belly jiggling almost at eye level. It was a humongous dome of flesh, stuffed like a pillow as it spread across her now thunderous thighs. She glared at it, and it moaned in response. It was a fatty ball and chain attached to her body.

“Allow us to assist, Goddess, if you please.” Two handmaidens pushed their way through the throng of worshipers, and gripped Cora's gut from underneath, sending streaks of agony through to its owner. “Where is it that you wish to go?”

Cora would have rather spit in the girls' faces than accept their help, but in her current predicament she didn't really have much choice.

“Bed, please ...”

With a lurch, Cora was on her feet again, distended stomach supported by her two nameless devotees. The rest of the handmaidens filtered out of the dining hall as Cora left, Patri being the only one to stick by her side.

“The cooks really pulled through on the feast!” Patri chirped as she skipped beside Cora. “I don't think I've ever seen them prepare food with such care before. But don't worry Goddess! I'll ensure that the quality of every feast you have will be just as good, if not better! As a matter of fact, I'll have something special whipped up tomorrow.”

Cora's eyes widened. “Tomorrow?!”

“Of course! We've survived for generations off of your gifts, Goddess, and we've only just begun to return the favor. The next few decades are going to be quite tasty, I can assure you.”

Cora tried to put the thought out of her mind. She tried to focus on walking, balancing her new bulk so as to not tip herself over, and ignoring how each step brought on a twang of pain from her tightly packed belly, but there wasn't anything she could do to stop herself. Decades?! She could barely survive one day! What was she going to do?

The door to Cora's chambers came up on their right. With some assistance, Cora was guided through the double doors and onto her incredible canopy bed. She lay down on her side, a single tubby hand trying to massage her tortured gut into peace. Her eyes had just started to droop when Patri uttered four words that struck pure terror into her heart: