#dewdwrite

Anyone that was forever planetside might think that deep space travel is instantaneous and if not at least luxurious. The reality is it was usually neither, and unfortunately comparable to public transit on the surface. Sure your Voyage from an FTL station was prompt but those were only for vast distances. Going to more specific planets, stations, or connecting stations was a nightmare of navigation and meant going on multiple vessels of varying quality and comfort. Andra was in the middle of one of these less than exciting journeys and was eager to be done with it.

The large red dragon kin dwarfed the occupants in the cramped sitting area. Her sizable tail was beside her on the flat hard seat and spilling onto the metal floor. The tip of it wiggled like an agitated snake and Andra fought the urge to let her entire body fidget impatiently. She had been on this ship for hours after going through customs and an FTL jump. The jet lag was already setting in. Her feet slid back and forth joining her tail in a dance of impatience. She was tired, hungry and just wanted to get out of here and fix both of those.

The job Andra took paid her a rather handsome sum of relocation credits. So she planned on getting a room with an actual bed and the largest slab of meat she could find. Her kind was purely carnivorous and metabolized food rapidly. She’d eaten well at the start of her journey, but it didn't keep her sated for long. Underneath her royal blue jumpsuit she could feel the unpleasant gnawing of hunger in her stomach. She crossed her arms across her noticeably plump middle and glanced up at the monitors. Her estimated arrival time was still half an hour away. She pressed her forearms into her midsection as a hunger pang formed. It would be over an hour for her to dock and go through a security check, not to mention booking a room.

*Gooooaroorrr*

Her stomach groaned softly and reminded her that food should indeed be her number one priority. She leaned forward in her seat and pressed her arms deeper doing her best to be subtle. It was relatively quiet here and she didn’t exactly want every passenger to overhear her inner workings. Her tail resumed its fidgeting dance on the floor and she stared at the clock counting down. It was hard for her to concentrate on much else but food. Once her body demanded it her mind was clouded with the thought of it. Large racks of ribs, juicy thick steaks, roasted bone marrow.

*GRRRROOOOWWLLLL*

Her stomach erupted in a ferocious audible growl at her thoughts. That one earned her more than a few glances from other passengers as the cabin was filled with the noise. She leaned back in her seat and clasped a clawed hand over her stomach. If her organs couldn't be subtle then she didn't need to be. The ache in her gut was now being accompanied by a persistent pounding in her head. Yet another “friendly” reminder from her body that she should have eaten already.

This only made her anxious fidgeting worse and even more noticeable. She began to pick at her nails and scales as she struggled to occupy her mind with anything but food. Even the horns of her head weren't safe from the onslaught as she grabbed at them and thought of filing them down. Eating wasn’t the only self care she had neglected she was also in the process of molting and it was making her all the more irritable. A hot bath would be nice, something to loosen up the brittle scales that were begging to come off.

As the shuttle finally reached Verdura station Andra couldn’t disembark fast enough. Luckily her size and clear desire to go ment most were happy to stand aside. After an identity check, bag search, and ticket authentication she was set loose into the main station. Her next shuttle wasn't due to leave for twenty six hours. Plenty of time for a meal, sleeping, and well another meal, God she was hungry.

Andra rubbed her stomach idly as the strides of her long legs carried her through the spacious atrium and extended hallways. Bright signs and screens of sprawling advertisements told her she was heading to what turned out to be a rather sparse food court. This connecting station was quite busy and it took her some effort to get her bearings. Looking around she didn’t even recognise half the species on this station. Plenty of humans thought, no matter where you went they were always prominent.

After a bit of a wait she was able to browse an open information kiosk where she made a horrible discovery. This was a harm free station, no meat products were sold here and only synthetic materials were legally allowed. This realization caused a sharp twinge of anxiety in her chest. She was sure her destination didn't have these sanctions, but she didn't think to check the connecting station.

Andra tried to maintain her composure standing at the kiosk, her typically sturdy legs felt like rubber. The thought of going the rest of her stay here without anything to eat seemed daunting. As she navigated restaurant menus her insides were screaming. She was searching for something even close to her nutritional requirements for nearly half an hour. There were plenty of meat substitutes offered that omnivorous races enjoyed or at the very least tolerated. Surely that would be better than simply fasting, something was better than nothing at all. She couldn’t be sure though she'd never had to make that compromise. It was all too much for her jetlagged brain and she could feel her tail swinging anxiously as she thought.

Ever since the change in Marcille’s diet she'd been sleeping better and much more soundly. Gone were the hours of tossing and turning then waking up exhausted with baggy eyes. Heavy consistent meals did wonders for her natural rhythm. Going to sleep with a stomach full of rich food lulled her to sleep much better than dry trail rations. It was however definitely contributing to her steadily increasing waistline.

Marcille had always been a fan of getting proper rest, so it took no persuasion to get her to unwind. Like many scholars she used free moments before sleep to catalog and study new information. It made sure her mind was equally as tired as her body so she could slip into a productive slumber.

As Marcille laid on her back snoozing contently she mumbled incoherently in her sleep. The rest of the campsite was equally still this early in the morning. Sleep was just as important as food to the Touden party. Especially now with Senshi as well as Laios making most of the decisions. With how much time was spent foraging, resting and cooking, it was a surprise they had time to explore the dungeon.

A low groan sounded from Marcille’s midsection. The soft sound echoed in the muted campsite. It was the first of many that her body would make. Unbeknownst to her the audible hunger she often woke up too was typically preceded by an entire chorus of demands. These were her most restless hours. Her eyes moved rapidly beneath her eyelids and her mouth was agape. Even in her sleep this new level of strong hunger had a firm hold on her.

It didn't matter that she was full to bursting before closing her eyes. The change to her metabolism had made her body spoiled and greedy. Digesting only took about half the night. Her bloated stomach flattening down to the new plush curvature that she kept hidden away under her clothes. As the morning drew closer and her needs became stronger, that's when dreams would start. Dreams of food, of all the things she craved and could never get in the dungeon. Fresh vegetables, sweet deserts, savory and spicy stews. It was no wonder her stomach threw such a fit.

Marcille had dreamed of food infrequently in the past. A usually miserable experience to wake from. To go from a real as life experience eating at a fine tavern on the surface…to waking up starving with only trail rations for breakfast. Not anymore though, at least now she could wake up and properly sate her hunger. Often with food she couldn't even begin to imagine. Senshi’s cooking skills were so influential even in Marcille’s dreams her tastes were becoming more adventurous.

A hollow rumble vibrated through Marcille’s midriff, signaling that her dinner was long gone. Her body was now so eager for food it called out for it. A brief sigh from her lips signaled she was on the edge of waking. No amount of exhaustion or vivid dreams could keep her sleeping through such demands. It was somehow even more intense than any previous bouts of hunger. The power and volume at which her stomach complained was shocking…and exciting.

Marcille pressed a palm into her midsection just below her ribs. She could feel the slightly sunken layer of plush fat she accumulated. Her hand sunk deeper and deeper as she felt just how much space she was expected to fill. Another sharp jab of hunger made her bite her lip in anticipation. Her hand remained flush against her middle and her heart started to pound faster as she waited. After seconds that felt like hours her steady building hunger peaked. A guttural growl quaked beneath her palm with enough force to make the chubby elf whine.

Marcille’s stomach didn't mess around between meals anymore. If this was from going to bed full, the idea of missing a meal made her head spin. Is this what it was like for Falin? Feeling hungry anytime she wasn't recently full? The elf rubbed large circles on her midriff, feeling the fabric of her underclothes bunching up. Everyday since she noticed her weight gain she thanked herself for choosing loose fitting clothes. The various belts and ties she used to keep them in place however were getting more useless by the day.

Another low groan erupted from Marcille’s midriff. Her body was becoming increasingly insistent that she feed herself as soon as possible. A hint of pink dusted her cheeks as her gaze drifted to her companions' bedrolls. Chillchuck was the only one to stir and it was brief. Marcille breathed a sigh of relief and clutched her midsection. It waking her up was one thing, but she'd be mortified if it served as an alarm for her entire party.

Now fully awake from the anxiety of being overheard; Marcille took hold of her spell tome. She flipped in open and rested the heavy spine just below her ribs. The pressure was a bit uncomfortable, but in a necessary way. This wasn't the first time she woke before her companions. If she was more confident in her cooking ability she might get some ingredients prepared. Perhaps that would be something to ask Senshi or even Laios. Her thoughts on food down here changed rather quickly once she realized how good it could be.

Marcille bit her lip as she felt her stomach shifting underneath her skin. She wasn't just peckish, this was pure hunger. It was like she never even ate before sleeping. Her mind drifted to what supplies they had and what meals could be made from them. While she lacked the culinary creativity that Senshi had, hunger was a powerful tool in its own right. Breakfast should be hearty, enough to fuel her all day, or at least till they stopped for lunch. Marcille could feel her mouth growing wet as her body prepared its daily refueling.

The heavy book spine pressed into Marcille’s midsection did little to subdue the hunger she was experiencing. It was like trying to dam a river with a single hollow log. The sensation of her insides contracting in search of sustenance was increasingly urgent…and slightly erotic. Feeling hungrier and heavier made her feel more like Fallin. She couldn't help but imagine how the tall woman would react when they met again. Both their bodies were now quite similar and with nearly equal appetites. God's how Marcille wanted nothing more than to share a large satisfying meal with her. Well that amongst other things.

A deep rumble from inside her broke Marcille's train of thought. The volume of the sound was enough to echo in the still air of the campsite. After a few moments of silence she could hear the stirring of not just Chillchuck this time but all her companions. Her face grew impossibly red as the realization that she was indeed an alarm for mealtimes. She quickly closed her spell tome and sat up wrapping her arms around herself as she felt the familiar glances of her company.

Druids were rarely seen in civilized society. Reclusive and mysterious, the magic they practice is often only understood by them and whatever gods of nature they kindle favor with. These same gods tend to be vague with their missions and motivations. This leaves an interesting philosophical line to walk when it comes to serving them.

Gnolls were seen as gluttonous and untrustworthy. The first couldn't be helped–the second, however, could be disproven. She'd been entrusted with thousands of acres of woodlands after getting a blessing from a desperate dryad. She stayed true to her word, meticulously keeping the peace and helping the circle of life continue its neverending rotation.

Taka's large frame maneuvered through the woodlands with a grace uncharacteristic of her kind. Long, powerful legs helped her traverse quickly in precise strides. The sound of bead and bone jewelry echoed on the wind. Her various baubles and macabre fetishes clacked together and swayed with her movements. The skulls of various long-passed creatures adorned her. Turquoise stones and handcrafted jewelry hung around her neck, wrists, and ankles. She brushed her long black mane to one side, flicking out a layer of dirt that clung to it. Her nature was to scavenge and to repurpose; to not let anything go unused or unappreciated. This garnered her plenty of favor with all gods of the wild.

Tan fur speckled with dark spots covered every inch of Taka’s body. It nearly blended in with the hides she wrapped around her waist and torso. The modest fur clothing kept her decent without restricting her movement. Her gnarled staff was her most prized possession. Despite her affinity for collecting, this was truly the only worldly possession she coveted. A twisted thick branch of yew wood as tall as she was. It had a large chunk of amber with a butterfly inside that was as black as night. Any light that shone through it cast a grim shadow. It was the focus for her magic and as much a part of her as the earth was.

Taka continued her trek, only a mile from her home now. She knew this area well, its familiar sights and creatures. She readjusted her tattered leather pack and pressed onward. She'd walked nearly all day with the intention of spending the night in her bed, not to mention filling her stomach with a home cooked meal. Gnolls had a massive appetite–and hers hadn't been properly sated in days. The odd foraging and brief campfire meals didn't keep her stomach from growling, either.

The ragged strap from her pack dug into Taka’s sore shoulder, its contents nearly spilling out. She had just enough food for a day of rest: meat, vegetables, and a few assorted berries. Her mouth began to salivate at the idea of what she would make with it. It was taking everything she had not to reach in her pack and eat the ingredients one at a time. Taka’s stomach let out a long rumble, reminding her once again how completely empty she was. She gripped her upper abdomen with her free hand and squeezed the excess flesh in a vain attempt to subdue its cries. The extra layer of fat that accumulated throughout her body was a testament to just how otherworldly her appetite was, but it was her obnoxious stomach that divulged it most of all.

Nestled in the heart of the woodland beneath a canopied pasture hid a small hut. The rough wood and thatch construction served its purpose and gave Taka a proper place to recuperate. It was a construction culminating her odd impulses; the outside was adorned with intricate totems and wind chimes made of all sized bones. A welcome sight after days spent away performing rituals and rites. All through the trees and her roof sat a murder of crows. They hopped about excitedly and started cawing as she got closer. Anticipating the onslaught of other mouths to feed, Taka dug into her bag’s many pouches. Along the paths she’d worn into her home turf sat covered bowls on posts. She removed the tops and placed handfuls of seeds, nuts and berries. The birds quickly flocked to the offerings and began squabbling amongst themselves. Outside her door was another post; its bowl had a small pile of coins and assorted trinkets. A passing crow dropped a copper piece as she reached for the pile. It eyed her impatiently before flying over and snatching a red berry from her hand. Her relationship with the crows was mutually beneficial, and gave her modest funds to buy supplies with, as well as bits to add to her jewelry.

Her stomach panged with hunger as she gave away a meager amount of her rations. It seemed ridiculous to feel any jealousy towards such creatures, but her hollow stomach was incapable of reasoning. With a hand on her midriff she entered her hut, squinting in the darkness. A wave of her hand was all it took to light her fireplace and the wide array of candles throughout the room. She laid her pack down and overturned it, letting the plethora of ingredients spill onto her table. Her stomach howled impatiently as she set about preparing something.

As Taka chopped vegetables and sprinkled spices on large chunks of meat she could feel the gnawing hunger in her core becoming increasingly intense. The crackling of the fire and the persistent hissing of her meal cooking was being drowned out by rolling rumbles echoing from deep inside her. This amount of internal activity was normal for her, especially before a meal, but it wasn’t easy to ignore without a proper distraction. She soon found herself popping small handfuls of fresh berries in her mouth and taking large gulps from her water skin. This didn't satisfy her–she could feel her powerful stomach acids dissolving her snack mere moments after she swallowed it. This combined with the smells of a long awaited meal made her greedy gut howl in frustration. With no other option, she turned her meal over in the pan with one hand while the other rested on her midriff, feeling the convulsing organs rioting underneath her fur.

Despite her body being in a rush, Taka was meticulous in her preparation and plating of her food. It was a substantial amount, easily enough for three humans. Multiple slabs of meat and root vegetables piled on a plate that could serve as a dinner tray to most others. She could feel her stomach quivering as she finally began to eat. She did own cutlery, but it often went unused. The true nature of what she was came out when she ate in a completely undignified manner. Once she started eating– that's when her unholy appetite became apparent. She ate so rapidly she could feel her stomach filling with each swallow, taking another bite at a pace only someone truly famished could maintain. What took an hour to prepare was devoured within minutes. Taka’s stomach greedily churned away at her food and made a new array of satisfied noises as it finally began processing its first proper meal in days.

While it was quieter when she was full, her guts still made a cacophony of sounds. Gnoll stomach acid was among one of the most caustic substances in the material plane. The way it boiled and churned whatever was dropped into it was unlike the digestive tract of even the most legendary of creatures. This was the side of her there was no help changing and she was fine with that. Even if it meant waiting, sometimes for days filling herself to her true capacity was always a pleasure. The gentle ache she felt settling in her core after a large meal was leaps and bounds better than the incessant roaring of hunger that preceded it. Soon her meal would be gone and it would be time to do it all again. The circle of life.

A kinky take on the goodberry spell.

Nature had a way of speaking to druids, of telling them when and where they were needed. It took devotion to the lifestyle and understanding of the unseen forces of the world. Taka was needed for a ritual, that much she knew and that meant another hike. She enjoyed hiking, walking all through the territory she was responsible for. A more powerful Druid might open a portal to their destination or travel through the fey wild. Taka on the other hand was humble and content walking, even if it worked up an appetite.

She didn't carry much in the way of supplies at least as far as survival was concerned. After all, nature did provide, especially for a druid. She knew she needed to forage for ritual supplies rather than food. No matter, she'd have to fall back on her standby rations. Her hike wasn't as the crow flies but rather a series of detours to find various plants, fungi and stones that all served a specific purpose.

Along the way Taka had finally found the source of her personal search, a familiar bunch of dark green leaves with small nubs of berries waiting to grow. She plucked the sprig of mistletoe, and with a brief surge of magic a pile of plump red berries grew rapidly, filling her palm. She salivated and her stomach growled causing her to grimace. Druids called these goodberries, a magical food that could sustain a body for an entire day with just one berry. She used this spell as necessary but she didn’t care for them much herself. Right now however she was too hungry to find a proper meal and still had much to do. She could deal with her stomach making noise even if it was quaking with thunderous hunger, not her legs shaking or her head pounding. That made her feel like she was wasting away and in that case a goodberry would do.

With a sigh she popped the berry in her mouth and swallowed it whole. She was so hungry there was more saliva than berry traveling down her throat. Her stomach convulsed and quaked the moment the berry landed in her begging gut. The magical nature of the fruit took effect rapidly. She felt the strength returning to her limbs and the throbbing in her head subside. As her stomach started to churn, she could feel the berry sitting stubbornly inside her like a pebble. Due to the nature of her anatomy she was typically very aware of how things broke down inside her. Good berries however took all day and didn’t offer the satisfaction of a stretched out full stomach. Instead she had the rolling boil of digestion and this stubborn thing tumbling around in her stomach acids. She often found herself wondering if this is how it felt to the passing travelers or critters she offered these berries too, or if it was just another symptom of her kind’s gluttonous curse.

The sounds emitting from her core were much more tumultuous than usual. Long squealing gurgles that were punctuated with deep roars reverberated through her layers of fat and fur. Pressing a hand firmly into her gut she felt the tremors underneath her palm. Her hand sunk into her plush middle, further evidence that her cavernous stomach was nearly hollow. Despite the activity inside her she felt well enough to continue. One advantage to only having a good berry was how light on her feet she felt. She could leap and bound through the brush without being offset by the characteristic bloating that came with her indulgent meals.

Her goal was a long lived tree far in the distance. Tall and imposing, its hidden roots stretched far. This tree was well on its way to becoming awakened. In a few decades its roots would break through the earth and it would roam as a treant. Taka would need to help it along. A few prayers and a ritual to enhance the soil with nutrients would ensure its success. She could already feel a connection with this plant as she laid a hand on its thick bark. Dragging her nails down it lightly, very little chipped off, despite its size and age it was sturdy. Satisfied she cleared a spot of ground in front of it and began drawing symbols in the dirt with her staff. She'd have to commune with this tree and powerful spirits to ensure it would be guided along properly.

With one final turn she drew a circle around herself and sealed the runes. Satisfied with her work she stretched before squatting down and taking a seat. It was an instant relief finally getting to rest. One part of her body however was restless. In the stillness of the secluded wilderness the groans of her stomach broke the silence. The goodberry inside her sat defiantly in her guts, churning but not breaking down. Despite the rest of her body telling her it was nourished her stomach howled warning her of all the empty space. She ran a hand down her side letting it pass over her ribcage before resting it just below it. This was the most concave she’d seen her midriff in a while. The pudge that typically pooled in her lap when she sat just barely stuck out. A week of only good berries and perhaps she could show off just how much muscle she had hidden underneath. As if responding to her thoughts her stomach trembled making her body shutter.

As Taka focused on meditation her organs complained dramatically. Crossing her arms over her midsection she doubled down allowing herself to slip deeper into concentration. As the words of wisdom came to her she began chanting softly under her breath. A faint glow shined on the runes surrounding her and slowly spread to the tree. Ancient energy coursed through the land and focused on this one living being. She continued like this for hours communicating with unseen beings and allowing wild magic to flow through her to the earth. As the sun began to set, Taka's amber staff and ritual circle illuminated the forest. A swarm of lightning bugs descended into the clearing as she finished her final incantation and unsealed the circle. Her task was complete and if left undisturbed this tree would get to go on the next step of its long journey.

You've made a few mistakes in your life; hell, who hasn't. Almost getting yourself killed to the point where someone else had to interfere? That's a pretty big mistake. You're currently still suffering the after effects. Not physical pain or trauma, no it was a new roommate and your bank account pleading with you every time you checked it. Definitely beats being dead, besides as much of a financial strain as she is, you could never bring yourself to ask her to leave.

As you enter your apartment you're reminded of the current situation you're burdened with. Taking up the entire couch was the Kitsune that saved you. She'd changed a lot over the past several months. Not her personality, no her calm demeanor was the same as the moment you met her. What changed was her waistline, more specifically her entire body. Apparently her diet had been very balanced and restricted at her shrine. With access to take out and round the clock snacking the effect was very noticeable. She'd filled out significantly, so much so her old robes were often worn open or just tossed aside. She'd gotten some panties that fit to preserve a bit of modesty but bras were out of the question; too restrictive.

A guttural groan filled the living room quickly drawing even more attention to the occupant of the couch. The sound was all too familiar, you already knew this is what would greet you once you saw the door dash charge on your card. Even from the entryway the faint sounds of an over taxed digestive system were audible.

The large mass of blubber with pale freckled skin was practically a living white noise machine. Jackie was typically full past capacity and her guts always had something to say about it. “She's really noisy today…” You can hear her mumble. Her soft sleepy voice barely audible over the sounds of digestion. Despite her mostly human appearance you were constantly reminded of her inhuman anatomy. As if the ears and tails weren't enough, her appetite and metabolism were otherworldly. The amount of food she ate and the sounds her digestive system emitted was unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

She was currently sprawled out on the couch laying on her side. Day after day of indulgence made her form swell. Her body carried the extra weight gracefully and she flaunted it shamelessly. Her ample chest and protruding belly hung precariously over the edge of the couch. Her soft breathing and the twitching of one of her ears told you she was comfortably asleep no doubt fading in and out due to her food coma.

Jackie was less like a fox and more like a house cat in her behavior. She'd spend long stretches of time comatose after gorging herself. Similarly to a house cat when her mood was right, affection was on the table. The constant pampering and comfortable living had made her rather docile. With how much you enabled her overconsumption she was eager to show her gratitude.

You approach cautiously taking in the mess left on the table. Her order was from a nearby burger shop. A torn open paper bag was just the beginning of the carnage. A small pile of wrappers was stuffed back into it along with a few paper fry holders. As much as she enjoyed eating, at least she put in the effort not to leave a total mess. If anything her aloofness only contributed to how much she ate and slept.

Another long groan sounded off from Jackie's stomach. A testament to just how tightly packed her gut was and how hard it was working to process it. The gentle rising and falling of her chest and midriff told you she was comfortably asleep. Despite the volume and intensity of her stomach it was rare for it to actually hurt. That just meant it could be shamelessly listened too, the only concern was how much it was costing you. Anytime you thought about putting an end to it, a good look and listen was all it took to accept it.

As you settled into the far end of the couch

Jackie stirred, stretching out before settling back down. Nothing more than a readjustment, with how full she was sleeping on her front was out of the question. The swell of her stomach gurgled once again as she breathed. A steady noise that told you her partly digested meal was shifting with each movement. It was a mesmerizing sight, one you'd grown so used to that it took up much of your time after work.

You laid one steady but confident hand on the mound of flesh in front of you. What greeted you was the heat of a furnace and the gentle rumbling that felt more like a massage chair rather than a digestive system. The Kitsune sighed and cracked one eye open. She eyed you with comfortable disinterest. A silent acknowledgement that she wasn't concerned with what you were doing. She yawned, making her stomach rise and fall once more. The rush of gurgles that accompanied it made the Kitsune flash you a knowing grin. As lounging about with her body fully on display wasn't attention grabbing enough her obnoxious guts demanded even more attention.

It wasn't just the sight or the sounds of her body that drew you in, it was the heat as well. Just being near her was enough to understand why she rarely covered up. She ran incredibly hot especially when she was full. The perfect thing to warm your hands on after a long day out. As your other hand came to rest on her midsection she opened her eye once again. This time it was accompanied by a knowing smirk. Again she just shut her eye and continued lounging.

The Kitsune stomach that was underneath your palms made a particularly good stress ball. Just full enough to make noise with each press and grope. It still had some space left to keep it pliable underneath your fingers. After a few good squeezes she opened her eyes once again. Again not annoyed just acknowledging your attention. Her persistent calmness made her quite difficult to completely disturb. At least as far as things like this were concerned.

After a few moments Jackie took one of your hands and began guiding it. Your exploratory touches soon became a targeted massage that helped her process her large meal. Once you fell into a rhythm under her guidance she relaxed again. Her eyes closed and her head lulled back. Miraculously her gut even settled down. It seemed that even for something like this she was all too aware of what she wanted.

Jackie's midriff was downright hypnotic, and she was all too aware of its effects on you. The feel of it, how easily it could be pressed and moved about. Not to mention how soft it was. All the calories she habitually crammed into her gut made all of her incredibly soft. Soon that was pulling you in as well. The warm expanse of flesh in your hands beckoning you closer. The idle churning of her digestion is a siren song pleading for your attention.

Soon you were leaning over Jackie, encroaching on her space as you massaged her busy gut. She didn't open her eyes this time, but her tails swished showing her appreciation of your actions. After a few minutes she raised her arms in a silent beckoning for you to come even closer. She was usually like this, especially when her stomach was full. As you lean in closer you felt her arms wrapping around your torso tugging you into what would definitely be an extended embrace.

Jackie's plush body seemed to conform to you as you laid with her. Midsection pressing into you as your head naturally settled onto her ample chest. One of her large legs wrapped over yours, carefully tucking you into her as the Kitsune let out a content murmur.

Jackie's insides were still hard at work; beneath the surface of her freckled skin her massive meal dissolved. The rhythmic churning of her digestive system was a physical sensation as her midriff pressed into your torso. The steady thump of her heart in your ear and the calm deep breaths she was taking told you she wasn't bothered at all by the activity inside her.

Being this close to your Kitsune roommate was always a serene experience. Every bit of sensory she provided was like it was designed to lull you into a nap with her. The feeling of her tails gently draping over your lower body was the final nail in the coffin. Your eyes were already closed and her furnace-like heat kept you firmly pressed against you. Jackie's ear twitched and she let out a yawn before squeezing you into her. After a long day this was exactly what you needed. Even if it cost you an arm and a leg, she paid her way with comfort and security.

Nestled deep within the winding halls of Donovan's castle, Maria was sleeping soundly. The shapely woman could easily be mistaken for a royal. Fair skin and ample curves combined with her still form made her look more like a marble sculpture. Fine silk sheets covered her body and clung to her bare skin; the nearly translucent fabric further accenting her shapely assets. Mounds of pillows cradled her head and surrounded her. Her long black hair was spread out like a curious octopus not content with investigating just one thing. Through the thin veil on the large poster bed the gentle rising and falling of her chest could be spotted. Comfort was a big priority for Maria, This was no ordinary sleep, it was work.

Maria was a dreamer. An understudied sec of divining magic, dreaming was an astral projection practice. She could not only cross over to another realm when she slept, but make contact with other minds. Allies, enemies, creatures not even known to the mortal plain, all were available to her. She often spent days on end with her mind and soul wandering, distant from their point of origin. Most dreamers stayed within or close to their body. Never pushing the limits, afraid of getting lost. Traveling through that realm was a skill akin to swimming. Failing to come back to yourself was more horrifying than drowning. But with a well trained mind and a tempered soul, you could swim far and travel great distances. Maria was one of those souls.

In her mental absence her physical body kept at its persistent existence. Blood surged through her veins, her lungs took in air, expanding and expelling over and over. Her heart thumped with the slow steady rhythm of a body at rest. In her core her stomach shifted and constricted. It too was still at work or rather reacting to its lack thereof. Nothing but a quivering sack of acid, It hadn't seen anything in two days. Like all the other organs it acted as though its host was present and aware. It twisted and boiled its unproductive contents, the familiar rumbles of hunger sounding off intermittently.

The strain on the body was minimal once the consciousness was fully parted. The mind was the primary tool for dreaming. The physical form acted more as a light house for the wandering mind. A clear point to return lest the mind be lost in a stormy sea. Drowning in the void was a fate worse than any physical death. It was a place not meant for human minds. To interact with the void and fully exit one's own mind was in itself an act of defiance. Still, like all light houses it needed fuel and maintenance; Maria's had been calling out for it for some time now.

Maria's breathing sped up, chest rising and falling in a more natural rhythm. Slowly she was coming back into herself. All the sensations throughout her body were returning. She felt each long breath filling her chest and leaving gracefully. The thumping of her heart as blood coursed through her veins. The touch of the silk sheets on her exposed skin. From her chest it spread outward the signals from her body flooding her mind. Then from deep in her core she felt another familiar sensation. A hollow pang jabbed through her stomach sending an alarm to her head. She winced at the sudden painful contraction and her lips pursed into a muted moan. That feeling only grew more intense as she became more aware of the empty space deep within her. Awaking faster now her mouth grew wet. Flexing her muscles her body shivered as her eyes gently fluttered open, she had fully returned. She took long deep breaths through her nose filling her chest before letting them out of her mouth. It felt good to breathe normally, to be back in a physical body.

The return trip was what took the most focus. Following your previous path, tracking your place to pass over and becoming one with your physical body again. It was easy to forget, like becoming lost in the woods. The denizens of the void did little to help with this problem. They craved human spirits and did everything in their power to misdirect and tired out daring dreamers. Maria's repeated and long winded expeditions were possible with a combination of skill and pure luck. That and the fact her body seemed so skilled at calling back out to her. She always had a deep connection with herself, being acutely aware of her needs. Not just her physical ones, but they were definitely the loudest.

The first few moments were jarring even for a woman of Maria's expertise. She laid still, slowly digging her fingers into her sheets, getting used to the feeling of touch. The weight that came with being physical was nearly overwhelming. Her thin silk sheets felt more like weighted blankets as she felt the fabric on her bare skin. This paralysis of sorts was terrifying to those less experienced. Maria felt it more akin to a night of too much wine. A slow waking where one had to take extra time to remember events and get their bearings. Her skin was slowly getting covered in goosebumps as she slowly moved her limbs in a restless writhing.

Before Maria could get any more of her bearings the hollow feeling in her guts peaked, a low rumble that resonated through her. It was a harsh reminder of just how long she had neglected to wake. With great effort she moved one shaky hand and rested it on her bare midriff. It was softer than any of the pillows around her and gave way twice as easy causing her hand to sink into it. Against her palm she felt the raging storm of thunderous hunger. The saliva continued to flow in her mouth till she was forced to swallow. Slowly it traveled downward all the while her stomach writhed in desperation. As it reached her center the organ gurgled ominously twisting up with gathering tension. Maria groaned and gripped her midriff with her other hand practically writhing in anticipation. A hollow roar exploded from her with such force it shook from her core outward through her body.

Maria gripped at her pudge and turned on her side with an unsteady effort. Curling up she put as much pressure on her stomach as possible. Her clumsy hands easily found purchase on her generous love handles hugging herself tightly. It did nothing to muffle her stomach's astounding volume and very little in the way of quelling the pangs. After the passage of that body quaking rumble Maria was left dazed. The urgent signals from her body would become more tolerable the longer she put up with it. The woman laid on her side massaging her core roughly. She needed something to quell the ache in her belly and that pounding of her head.

Sliding over to the edge of her bed Maria sat up and reached for the stein on her nightstand. Flicking up the metal top she glanced down at the crystal clear water ensuring it was how she left it. After one more breath she carefully raised it to her lips and gulped greedily. She was always so thirsty after she woke up. Water flooded into her stomach and the shocked organ quivered as the acids were rapidly diluted. She continued to drink, draining her cup completely; each gulp made a splash in the hollow cavern inside her. Again she felt the stabbing pains of hunger as a long series of gurgles emanated from her core. Clutching her midriff Maria groaned feeling the liquid contents bubbling and jostling around. No longer distracted by thirst she was even more aware of how hungry she was. Her insides clenched and she felt the water rapidly moving through her producing even more sounds. Unfortunately food still had to wait….

Maria pulled a small leather book and a quill from her nightstand drawer. Keeping a dream journal was one of her most important habits. Even an experienced dreamer could easily forget experiences on the other side. It was her top priority to get everything recorded in it; even before any biological needs. Quickly with a practiced hand she scribbled her thoughts. Places she'd been, people she spoke to or influenced. The only sound in her chamber was gentle gliding of her quill, the occasional page turn, and a near constant pleading gurgles from her core. God's she was famished, she would need to send for a servant to see what she could get to eat. Anything would do at this point.

Willow's phone vibrated on her night stand blasting its default alarm sound. She jolted awake briefly before her eyes threatened to close again. Her phone was in her hand a moment later. The obnoxious device lit up the darkened room with blinding white light. She squinted as she tapped her payroll app. It loaded slowly as usual; the constantly spinning logo was cruelly hypnotic. Willow felt her eyes close a few times as she waited. The weight of her phone nearly tumbling from her hand jolted her awake again. It was far too early for this.

Once the app finally loaded Willow could see her work schedule. She'd given up on relying on it to stay consistent. It was less stressful to wake up and check everyday. If she got woken up by another call from work asking where she was, she'd lose it.

“A fucking double?!” Willow groaned as she saw her name spanning the entire length of Thursday. She made the mistake of taking new years off. Not just that but also spending way too much money over the holidays. She had vague memories of drunk texting her boss that she needed hours. Now here she was in bed, still slightly hungover with an entire day ahead of her.

Willow laid in bed pouting and mindlessly swiping through her apps. All the while wasting precious time she needed to get ready. It didn't matter, no amount of preparation could help her survive today. She took time to check her bank account, grimacing as she saw the various deductions over the last week. Last night was particularly costly. Uber rides, drinks, a fucking power bank rental? She had to have been drunk to think that was a good idea. All so she could post blurry pictures of cocktails and make fake promises about the new year. God she was cynical when she was hungover.

After just a bit more of self loathing Willow finally decided to get up. The day wasn't going to end any sooner if she stayed in bed. As she tossed her twisted covers aside and sat up she felt her head spin. Cursing she forced herself to stand. She was probably still drunk judging by how unsteady she felt. How long did she even sleep for? Two? Four hours?

The walk to the bathroom was more of stagger as the bleary eyed cat attempted to get herself together. Did she have time to shower? She couldn't afford not to, the scent of liquor mixed with the musk of party goers. One whiff of her fur made her gag a bit too violently.

Willow turned the water to scalding hot stripped off the underwear she slept in. Checking her phone once again she stared at the time. Just over an hour to get to work, forty-five minutes if she wanted to take the bus instead of walk. Given how tipsy she felt that was probably a good idea.

Willow climbed into the shower and let the water run over her body. As she got drenched she pondered what life choices brought her to this moment. The pounding in her head that was being dulled by a stream of water told her it was margaritas. Thinking any further beyond that would get far too existential for her sleep deprived brain.

Drying off with her fur was always a pain in the ass. The stream of hot air from her hair dryer was doing everything it could. She needed to get dry enough to not to track water through her apartment. She checked her phone again as she ran the hair dryer over her body unceremoniously. Thirty minutes till she had to be at the bus station. Plenty of time if she didn't feel like death. Sighing to herself she set an alarm to go off in twenty minutes and turned her full attention to getting herself together.

She continued to dry herself section by section. A worn down hair brush passed over newly dried patches as she hummed an intentionally happy tune. Meanwhile she was feeling anything but happy about her current predicament. Thankfully the lingering smell of liquor, cigarettes and poor decisions had been washed away. At least she'd be clean and brushed. Makeup….well that was something she’d have to rush…or even skip. One good look at her reflection however quickly forced her to make a decision. With a defeated groan she slipped a collared shirt over her torso and leaned against the sink. The way the fabric clung to her curves didn't go unnoticed either. She tugged at the fabric and sighed. “I need to stop eating out…”

The heavy bags under willows eyes and the slight redness that persisted in her whites told her she was in desperate need of some assistance. Grumbling to herself she grabbed her mascara and went about the process of disguising just how disheveled she felt. If anything she was used to the process, working in customer service meant putting on a fake face all shift. It was much easier to act like a caring sweetheart when she at least half looked the part.

Once her fur was dry and her face had been tastefully applied Willow finally exited her bathroom. The slight pounding in her head and uneasy churning in her stomach told her today would be hell. She dragged herself into the kitchen still fully nude. Even if she felt dry she knew better than to put on clothes till the last possible moment.

Willow flicked on the light above her stove as she entered the kitchen. Dim light was all she could tolerate right now. Throwing open her refrigerator she was met with a sad sight. The barren white shelves had nothing in the way of food, save for a jar of pickles. The thought alone of scarfing one down was enough to turn Willow's stomach. Grumbling to herself the cat pushed aside a few jars and bottles of condiments searching for a real prize. Tucked away in the back chilled to the point of near freezing, was a can of red bull.

Willow gripped the can feeling the chill touch of the metal seeping through her palm. She quickly brought it to her forehead allowing it to calm her pounding skull for a moment. A low satisfied purr rumbled from her chest as she moved the can around on her aching head. “I'm never drinking again..” Willow groaned as she spoke the most common sentence on every new year's morning.

Willow leaned on the kitchen counter as she waited for the pounding in head to subside. Her knees nearly buckled and her stomach lurched. Every inch of her was protesting her choices last night and trying to force herself to get moving this morning. She let out a pitiful mewl and bent over; resting her forearms on the counter she buried her face into them.

Willow stayed hunched over for who knows how long. Still half drunk it felt like she was fading in and out. With great effort she slowly lifted her head. She placed the red bull can on the counter and set her phone beside it. Looking at the time did nothing but fill her with dread. Thirty minutes till she needed to get on her bus. Yet here she was, dressed in only a work shirt, leaning over the kitchen counter, head pounding and her stomach doing back flips.

With a muffled groan of frustration Willow stretched, the audible cracking of her back gave her a moderate bit of satisfaction. With another pathetic mewl she pawed at the red bull and cracked it open. This was her best hope at being able to function. She took a small tentative sip letting the chilled beverage run over her tongue and down her throat. It helped to add a bit of moisture to her otherwise dried out mouth. Her stomach however churned and bubbled in protest. The tiny drop of rocket fuel making her insides come alive like a Frankenstein monster.

Willow clasped a hand over her protesting middle and forced two large gulps down, determined to get herself moving. The wave of caffeinated carbonation was desperately needed; not that Willow's body could be easily convinced. The cat burped what she thought was softly, till her stomach churned and lurched again. This day was shaping up to be a battle. Again she leaned over the counter, this time pressing her forehead directly on the cool counter top. Her breathing was deep and her knees shook as she tried to stabilize herself.

“I'm dying…” Willow groaned as she fought with her own body trying to will herself to move. She was only being partly dramatic; anyone who had eight margaritas and two hours of sleep would surely feel like the reaper was right over their shoulder.

The wave of nausea finally subsided; with great effort Willow stood upright once more and sipped her beverage. It was bringing her back to life, slowly but surely. With unsure steps the woman dragged herself into her bedroom to find an acceptable pair of pants to wear. Her job technically had a dress code for pants, but no one ever cared. As long as they were black that was all that mattered; Thermals it was.

As Willow gathered herself and the few remaining things she needed for her shift she dragged herself out of the apartment. It was early enough that the entire building was dead to the world. Abandoned door dash orders were left in front of a few of the other units. Clearly she didn't have the roughest night in the building. With eyes glued to her phone Willow made her way to the elevator and checked the time again; Twenty minutes till her bus arrived. Should she get breakfast? Did she have time?

Willow took a moment to assess herself. Hungover? Yup. Thirsty? Some water might not be a bad idea. Hungry? Her stomach made a low ominous gurgle. It had the potential to be hunger, but any sensation of emptiness was overruled by the swirling churn of red bull. Putting anything else in her system would be a gamble, especially with a bus trip in her near future.

The elevator moved without much sensation as Willow browsed her social media. The vague memories of last night were quickly pieced together after seeing a few pictures and messages. Nothing too embarrassing, thankfully. All she had to do was survive today. She sent a few messages out and updated her status for the first of the year.

The lobby of her apartment building was as oddly sterile as always. For some reason no one lingered here for long. Even the trashcans were seldom used. She took a final sip from her red bull before tossing it into the near fresh trash bag.

Willow walked the familiar streets to the bus stop with a half hearted stride. All the while she checked her phone swapping between her tap pay and her bus schedule. She still had a good amount of time even moving as slowly as she was. How she was going to make it through today was a mystery, but she'd survived….other days. In her current state though? This was a new record, hell perhaps a new low. She was so uncomfortably caught between drunk and hungover each moment felt like a nightmare.

The bus stop had a mild scattering of people, a few looking just as unkempt as Willow. A Long night for all in this city apparently. Willow dug into her purse for her headphones. A flick of the case and a test of one revealed they were dead. The day just keeps getting better. She thought to herself as she tossed the useless hunk of plastic back into her bag.

Willow's bus was on time this morning so it wasn't as if the entire world was thrown off its axis. She dragged herself on to the bus while holding her phone out on the scanner. Not a cost she'd have to worry about right now. Of all her expenses a public transit subscription. With a half hearted gait she moved down the aisle and fell into a seat.

As the other passengers did the same and the bus started moving Willow's tail flicked in irritation. It wasn't loud, but all the mundane noises of public transit were not exactly welcome in her pounding head. She stared out the window and fought the urge to close her eyes yet again. Her stomach gurgled as her dried out body made quick work of its liquid breakfast. It wasn't exactly hydrating and the caffeine didn't do much either. Willow felt like a car that was sputtering to start. She rested a hand on her turbulent midriff as it roiled and groaned.

The entire bus ride Willow was plagued with the unpleasant and confusing sensation of her gut churning. Each hollow twist nearly made the cat jolt to complete alertness. The sounds were growing more insistent as her body started to demand proper fuel. Any nausea that was lingering from this morning was quickly subsiding. Suddenly the idea of breakfast had Willow scheming for a way to get her hands on something. Should she stop somewhere before work? Maybe just get something when she got there? God she needed a coffee too