imagining a curse that transfers all of the food one person eats into someone else's stomach. neither of them know exactly what's going on either. imagine just sitting somewhere cluelessly only for your stomach to start getting filled up with warm food as if you were eating. it starts slow at first so you barely even notice anything, but eventually, the portions just start getting larger and quicker, corresponding with what the other person eats.
now at the same time as this, someone is eating. maybe it just starts off as mild hunger. they eat a couple snacks, but are left wanting more. they eat a whole bag of chips. it feels like they ate nothing at all. they grab leftovers from their fridge and start eating.
every bite just brings nothing but further hunger. by now they've eaten more than enough to be full, and yet they still feel nothing. they start eating random things they find in the pantry. nothing. their stomach just growls louder.
-
meanwhile the first person is already totally full. by now they're starting to panic. what's happening to them? did they eat something weird? is this some kind of allergic reaction? the feeling of fullness only gets worse and worse, until slowing and stopping suddenly. is it over?
the only reason it slowed was because the other person started ordering delivery. a whole feast's worth of food. they order as much filling, greasy, decadent food as possible. ANYTHING for even a slight amount of satisfaction. normally they would never spend this much on food, let alone eat such unhealthy items in the first place, but they are much too hungry to care.
almost the second the food arrives, they start tearing into it. pizzas, burgers, fried chicken, soda, you name it. aggressively trying to gorge themselves on as much as possible, just for even some slight relief to their hunger. but there's nothing. so they keep eating.
-
when the first person started getting fuller again they winced. their stomach gurgled loudly, and it began to fill even faster than before. their belly bloats with fresh, warm, greasy food. their stomach stretches and groans. this time, they don't get a break. it just gets worse. they've never felt this full in their life, and it's only going to keep going.
if they had a shirt on, it's certainly stopped fitting by now. more food. the other person chugs an entire bottle of soda, and they can't help but squirm from the carbonation and rapid fullness. their belly is so full that they feel like it might just burst at the seams. the other has easily eaten enough food to feed a whole party, and yet they just feel HUNGER. both who have the curse are completely clueless as to if or when this will stop. both just getting more and more desperate.
the one being filled has to rub and caress their belly constantly to get any relief. even if they burp, the space they free up only gets filled in the next moment. it just doesn't stop. and the other person is just getting hungrier and hungrier, stuffing their face with abandon, someone else suffering for it. they're never going to stop desperately eating until the curse lets up. and the one being filled is looking VERY close to their limit...
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This story already exists on my AO3, but I want to start cross posting, so here's me doing that!
It's Actually Not His Fault
Summary: In order to create a cure-all for his sick friend, Mitsuo is forced to eat a stupid amount of magical fruit. To make matters worse, the fruit has an unusual side effect: burping clouds of glittering, pink smoke. It's not embarrassing at all, thanks for asking.
Contains: burping, stuffing, magical bloating, nausea, mentions of vomiting (no vomiting)
Rating: technically sfw, but like...do you really want to read this at work?
"So...What do magical herbs look like?" asked Mitsuo, awkwardly examining a patch of aggressively ordinary looking moss.
Without looking up from the fern he was fondling, Dev sighed. "My bad. I forgot to give you a full course on archano-medicinal botany while our friend is dying."
Right. That was fair. With a sigh, Mitsuo returned to pretending to help. At least it served as a distraction from worrying about Xanthe. Yesterday morning, the forest nymph had come down with a mysterious ailment that even Dev's magic couldn't help. Now the surly healer had their whole party out scouring the woods for medicinal herbs in the hopes of finding a cure.
For a few moments the two men trudged through the undergrowth in tense silence. Eventually Mitsuo's anxiety got the better of him “You do actually think there's something out here that could help Xanthe, right?"
Dev continued to riffle through a patch of weeds that had caught his eye. As usual, his face portrayed almost no emotion. “Of course. I wouldn’t waste our time like this otherwise.”
“Yeah but, is that because we’re…" Mitsuo tried to be delicate. "—Already out of time and feeling useful is better than doing nothing?” He failed.
Dev said nothing, becoming suddenly very interested in an entirely unremarkable looking root. Mitsuo felt for him. The man took his job as their party's healer very seriously, and not knowing how to solve a problem seemed to cause him physical pain.
"You know, Dev," he began, doing his best to sound gentle. It was a struggle. His default was closer to 'dead inside'. "No one is going to blame you if you can't—"
"—I see a cave over there," said Dev, standing up suddenly. He gave Mitsuo a flat, steely look that dared him to finish his sentence. "Let’s check it out.”
The cave was narrow, but tall enough to permit them to pass through with only a mild stoop. Not that it mattered to Dev, who was practically crawling along the ground shoving mushrooms and moss into his satchel. He’d now given up even the pretense of allowing Mitsuo to help, instead handing him a large stick and telling him to protect them from bats. There were no bats.
“What does that one do?” Asked Mitsuo, indicating a faintly glowing mushroom Dev had just picked.
“Helps bring down fevers induced by magic," Dev replied, barely turning to look.
“What about that one?”
“It calms inflammation.”
“And that one?”
“Also fevers.”
“And that one?”
“Renders the speaker mute. Want to try it?”
“…Sorry,” said Mitsuo. Dev resumed his search. Then because he couldn't help himself: “There’s really a mushroom that does that?”
“Yeah." Dev shrugged "Somewhere. Probably. This one actually causes several days worth of the worst diarrhea you could possibly imagine, but that would still probably shut you up just fine.”
Mitsuo resolved to stop talking to Dev for the time being. Several minutes passed like this before the healer jumped suddenly to his feet and began walking swiftly deeper into the cave. With a start, Mitsuo rushed to catch up to him.
"Are you okay?" Mitsuo asked. "Why are we moving?"
“Do you see that?” Asked Dev.
“I…wait, yes,” said Mitsuo, noticing a faint, pinkish glow emanating from around a bend in the cave. “What is that?”
Dev didn't answer. “There’s no way we’re this lucky,” he said, mostly to himself. There was a note of breathless optimism coloring his voice as he continued to speed walk towards the rosy light.
As they approached, the light grew brighter until they rounded the bend and Mitsuo saw that it was coming from a small, gnarled tree. More specifically, from the fat, round fruits it bore. Each one was about the size of a large peach, and haloed in a soft, pink glow.
Mitsuo stopped short, struck by the eerie beauty of the sight before him. Traveling with Dev's party, he had seen plenty of things he would have previously thought impossible, but still, he found himself shocked at the sight of a plant casually thriving in the depths of a cave. They were far enough from the entrance that the tree had likely never even heard of sunlight, yet there it was, teeming with life.
“I can’t believe it,” murmured Dev, cautiously approaching the tree and reverently cupping the fruits in a way that bordered on sensual.
“Me neither,” said Mitsuo flatly. “What is it?”
“A panacea,” replied Dev. Though his face was as devoid of sentiment as ever, Dev's voice shook with suppressed emotion. “The fruit of this tree is said to be able to cure any ailment if properly prepared.”
“Seriously?” Mitsuo asked, afraid to let himself believe it.
Not taking his eyes off the fruit, Dev nodded. “Seriously. We can save Xanthe with this.”
Mitsuo felt so profoundly relieved it was a wonder he remained on his feet. As it was, he slumped against the wall of the cave, arms hanging limply at his sides. “That’s…wildly convenient.”
Dev frowned. “Exactly what part of this nightmarish experience has been convenient?”
“Do you know what a deus ex machina is?”
Dev proceeded as though his companion had never spoken. “Like I was saying," he continued threateningly. "The extract of this tree's fruit has the power to cure any ailment known to biological life. But the fruit on its own is a deadly poison.”
Mitsuo frowned, sensing a catch. "Okay...how do we get the extract?"
"The fruit needs to be metabolized by a creature immune to the toxins, so they can neutralize it. The extract is made from their blood. Typically they use gnomes."
"They kill gnomes!?"
Dev rolled his eyes. "Of course not. They don't take all their blood, it's like a few vials at a time. They have a labor union."
"Oh...cool. So where do we get a gnome?"
"We don't have the time or the gold." Suddenly, Dev fixed his dark, piercing gaze on Mitsuo. “But I have another idea.”
For a moment, Mitsuo held Dev’s gaze trying to figure out what he was getting at. When it hit him, he was embarrassed it had taken so long. Though Mitsuo was practically useless as a magic user, he did have one standout ability: his poison immunity. He could shield his body from the effects of any bio-active substance. It made for a great party trick.
...But that didn't mean it was pleasant.
“I’m going to eat the fruit.” Mitsuo sighed out at exactly the same time as Dev said. “You’re going to eat the fruit.”
Mitsuo sighed again. “Is it going to hurt?”
“Probably.”
He slumped forward in defeat. “How many do I have to eat?”
“Don’t know. To be safe? All of them.”
Mitsuo let his eyes rove over the tree with a growing sense of dread. There were easily 15 large, heavy looking pink fruits hanging from its branches. Mitsuo could out-drink just about anybody and everybody (Even without his poison immunity) but he didn't have much of an appetite. In fact, most days he had heartburn just from having a stomach. Needless to say, his confidence was even lower than it usually was. He opened his mouth to formulate an argument, but found he didn’t really know where to start. Instead he stood there looking helplessly between Dev and the tree, flapping his mouth like a fish.
Dev tapped his foot, looking uncharacteristically anxious. “Do I need to remind you that if you don’t do this Xanthe’s probably going to die?”
"I know that."
“Are you going to eat the fruit or not?”
Resigned, Mitsuo let his head wilt limply towards his chest. “Obviously I’m going to eat the fruit. I was never not going to eat the fruit.”
“Oh..." Mitsuo caught the ghost of an impressed smile flit across Dev's face as he turned his attention back to the tree. The man would rather die than let Mitsuo know he approved of something he’d done. “Good. Get to it then.”
Mitsuo took a step towards the tree, reaching for a round, fuzzy pink fruit. At the last second he pulled his hand back. “You do realize there’s no way I can actually eat all of these, right? I’m going to try, but I’m guessing after about 10 I’m going to…vomit.”
Dev stepped forward, reaching past Mitsuo and plucking the fruit himself. It pulled free from the tree with a soft popping sound, releasing a small cloud of pink bioluminescent smoke. That must have been the source of the tree’s otherworldly glow. He shoved the fruit into Mitsuo’s reluctant hands.
“Don’t. Vomiting would be extremely counterproductive. We’d have to start again.” Dev gave an unconcerned shrug. “But if you give me a warning, I should be able to help you keep everything down.”
Right. Healer. Duh.
Out of excuses and out of time, Mitsuo at last brought the fruit to his mouth and took a bite. It was actually really delicious. His teeth pierced the fuzzy, peach-like skin and sunk into the pleasant juicy softness of the fruit with just the right amount of resistance. It tasted like sweet, honey custard crossed with an impossibly perfect mango. He swallowed.
Then he dropped the fruit and fell to his knees doubled over in the worst pain he’d ever experienced. He felt as though a blazing coal ember had dropped into his stomach. Mitsuo clutched at his cramping middle, gritting his teeth and waiting for the pain to subside enough for him to explain to Dev that this plan might be dead in the water. But before he could, Dev placed both hands on Mitsuo's back. A soothing warmth radiated from the healer's palms through Mitsuo’s shirt. The pain rolled away like the waves of a receding tide.
The sudden relief left him feeling exhausted, and he rolled on to his side, struggling to recover from the feeling of an invisible hand of pure agony clenching tightly around his entire upper GI tract. Fortunately, Dev followed him to the ground without breaking contact. Mitsuo attempted to speak, but all he got out was a loud, distressed hiccup that jolted both him and Dev.
"You okay?" asked Dev.
Not to be fooled twice by his spasming diaphragm, Mitsuo muffled the subsequent hiccups into the back of his hand. “Uh, yeah—hic—thanks for—hic—Thanks f—hic!”
“Sorry, what was that?” asked Dev, sounding suspiciously like he was suppressing laughter.
"Shut up." Mitsuo had to pause to breath through another hiccup. "You know you can take your hand back now. I feel fine other than the—hic...ugh."
“I can't actually." Dev frowned. "You don't seem like you're about to die, so your poison immunity is working, but I guess it's not going to help much with the pain."
Mitsuo felt his face heating. “So you’re going to…hold my back the whole time?”
“Would you prefer I hold your front?”
Absolutely unwilling to devote even another second to contemplating the answer to that question, Mitsuo retrieved his fruit and crammed it back into his inexplicably heated face. Apparently God wasn't willing to grant him the mercy of a swift death, because he got the next bite down just fine.
After a while the two men fell into a rhythm. Through trial and error they even discovered that Dev didn’t need to maintain contact unless Mitsuo was actively eating. The strange, caustic juice still made his stomach churn unpleasantly, but Dev was keeping the discomfort mostly manageable.
Mostly.
At about the 10 minute mark, Mitsuo was getting full. He ate as fast as he could, hoping to trick his body into letting him get through as much fruit as possible, but it was rapidly catching on. By fruit 4 or 5 his stomach had begun to grumble, noisily expressing its discontent. The gurgling and sloshing would probably have been audible even if Dev were on the other end of the alcove. As it was, he had a front row seat. It wasn't embarrassing at all, thanks for asking.
Laboriously choking down his last bite, Mitsuo held up his next stupid, plot-device fruit, eyeing it with a sense of foreboding that, out of context, would have been hilarious.
“Seriously?” Said Dev. “Are you already tapping out?”
“No,” said Mitsuo with a sick groan “I just need a second.”
“Still feeling okay?”
“Of course. I feel amazing," Mitsuo deadpanned.
Dev snorted. “You look amazing."
Mitsuo wanted to continue the bit, but decided to instead focus on suppressing a wet burp that years of binge drinking and acid reflux had taught him not to trust. He swallowed heavily, feeling his chest jolt as he forced the pressure back from his throat. It settled in his stomach with a plaintive gurgle.
Watching, Dev frowned at him like he was a disobedient dog trying to sneak a dead animal into the house. “What was that?"
“Uh, I don’t...” Normally Mitsuo wouldn't have given it a second though. But the scrutiny was making him self-conscious.
"You lurched."
"I didn't lurch!"
“I’m serious, tell me if you’re going to be sick.”
“I'd tell you. I wasn't gagging.”
"Then what were you doing?"
"I'd like to drop this."
“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m a professional.”
Mitsuo refrained from tacking “bully” onto the end of that statement. “I told you, I will. Just please don’t make me justify every stomach noise. It’s really going to slow us down. Also, on a personal note, I hate it.”
Dev gave a noncommittal shrug which did nothing to reassure Mitsuo, who just sighed and went back to his stupid fruit. He was, understandably, reluctant to continue, but he thought of Xanthe waiting for them back at camp and it was enough to give him the push he needed. If the cost of saving his friend’s life was his dignity, well then…hopefully God accepted credit, because Mitsuo’s was long since gone.
★ ★ ★
“Come on, man. Just a few more,” coaxed Dev, leaning over a bloated, supine Mitsuo and dangling another hateful fruit in his face. Remarkably there were only 3 left.
Mitsuo’s only response was a sustained groan.
God, he felt gross. Sometime around the 7th fruit Mitsuo's stomach had decided to take him to task for all the air he'd been swallowing. This censure took the form of a near constant airy pressure mounting in his throat and threatening to rush out of him every time he opened his mouth. With Dev still so hyper-focused on his every gurgle and grunt, Mitsuo felt too awkward to let anything up, even quietly. He soon found himself swallowing back burps as often as mouthfuls of fruit, and his stomach felt like an overinflated balloon.
Dev anxiously carded his hand through his hair. “The others are going to wonder where we are.”
With another groan (or possibly a seamless continuation of the first) Mitsuo pulled himself up to a sitting position, angling so Dev’s hand could return to its spot on his back. The motion didn't do his stomach any favors. Mitsuo did his best to be subtle, but he felt Dev's hand move with him as his body hitched with the effort of suppressing the resultant belch.
Dev's eyes flared. “Fuck. Are you gonna—?”
“—No," said Mitsuo, clenching his jaw to cage in another burp that tried to follow the last. "That was just...no."
Feeling his face heat, Mitsuo snatched the proffered fruit from Dev with a little too much force. He stared at it. It stared at him. He stared back. It stared back. Bravely, he attempted to take a bite. His stomach gurgled. He felt another bubble of air creeping up his throat, forcing him to shut his mouth in a hurry, or face the consequences.
Dev was instantly alert. “You liar! You are going to throw up.”
Mitsuo tried to respond, but as soon as he opened his mouth he let out a short, low belch. Reflexively, his hand twitched towards his mouth as though he might still be able to cover it.
"...guh...Sorry," he groaned, face coloring slightly. "Excuse me."
Dev raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I've ever heard you burp before."
"We really don't need to talk about it..."
"Good point." Dev grabbed Mitsuo's fruit-eating-hand by the wrist and shoved it towards his face. "Eat."
Actually, that was maybe going to be a problem for him. Suddenly, Mitsuo's gut let out a distressingly sloshy, rumble, twisting itself into knots inside him as he fought the urge to double over. He kept his mouth shut, but held up a finger asking Dev to give him a moment while he rode out the sudden cramp. To his distinct distress, a heavy pressure began creeping from the depths of his stomach, pushing into his throat. Something was definitely about to make a bid for escape from his over-packed insides. But he didn’t think he was going to be sick. It was more like he was going to—
"uuUUOOOoooRPpphh..."
Before he could do any sort of damage control, Mitsuo let out a heavy, rumbling belch loud enough to cause both Dev and himself to jump. Shell-shocked in an almost literal sense, he was acting on a delay as he clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes flaring in surprise.
"Fuck!" Dev bumped into the cave wall, shocked enough that it actually showed on his perpetually un-emotive face.
Mitsuo said nothing. Instead, he elected to hold completely still, muscles taut, face red, refusing to meet the judgmental eyes of his friend. With another wave of embarrassment, he noticed he was still holding up his finger. He lowered it.
Dev cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure like a cat that just fumbled a landing on the countertop in front of everybody. “Hey, it’s…fine. It’s…natural.”
“Oh my god...”
“Do you feel better?”
“Stop. Please.”
Truthfully, he didn’t. Not remotely. Despite having just burped in a way that would have embarrassed him even if he were completely alone, the bloated pressure squeezing Mitsuo's middle had barely dipped. But he ignored it along with Dev's questions, taking another bite of the fruit. Better to die from indigestion than to suffer through the healer's sweaty attempts at gentle encouragement.
He only got through another two bites before the truth became impossible to ignore: He really needed to burp. Mouth firmly shut, he let his gaze drift up towards the ceiling, willing the urge away. No dice. He could literally feel his muscles trembling with the strain of holding in all the air. He was dying to let it up.
Finally the discomfort became too great for him to continue eating. He decided he’d just have to let himself burp. But quietly this time, for fuck's sake. Like a normal adult human with basic manners. However, before he could finish explaining these conditions to his stomach it forced out another uncomfortably deep, embarrassingly loud belch.
"UUuurrrrpp..."
Mitsuo winced, feeling his face flush. “Fuck. Sorry, I...sorry.”
From beside him, Dev frowned “I know you’re not feeling well, but come on, man. At least cover your mouth.”
“Sorry! I didn't mean to—” He cut himself off, feeling another belch rolling up his throat. He caught it, conspicuously choking it back down. It still echoed loudly in his chest.
Dev frowned "You really don't feel sick?"
"No!" Mitsuo answered honestly. Then he burped again.
Dev just gaped for a moment. “Dude, what’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know, but—Uulp..” Mitsuo stopped, fisting his hand against his mouth “—I think something. I can’t stop.”
“Sure, that’s fine. Just don't aim them at me.”
“brphh—No, you don't understand.” Mitsuo turned to Dev imploringly, trying his best to keep everything in. “It’s not just—ulp...ghn...indigestion or something. I literally can’t stop myself from—"
Burping. He was going to say burping, but instead of saying it, he did it. But this time with a twist. He made an admirable attempt to duck away from his friend, but, to his profound horror, Mitsuo let out a deep, airy belch that brought up with it an expansive cloud of glittering pink smoke. Directly into Dev’s face.
"Bhurr...bbBOOOoooUUurrph"
As though propelled by magnets, both men went flying to opposite ends of their cramped alcove. Dev stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, as Mitsuo chanted “Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry,” like he was praying to some goddess of contrition. For several long, painful moments Dev said nothing. Mitsuo wouldn’t have heard him over his compulsive apologizing anyway.
“Okay…" Dev said at length. "I see what you mean. That’s definitely not normal.”
In response, Mitsuo burped helplessly behind his hands. The same pink smoke from before came wafting out from between his fingers. He bit down on his lip, but only wound up burping again through his teeth. He let out a mortified groan.
Dev stared intently at him, and Mitsuo made a literal, though unsuccessful attempt to melt into the cave floor with magic. “Okay. Theory.” Said Dev, getting to his feet, and walking back over to examine his friend. He pulled Mitsuo’s hand from his mouth.
“No. Wait. I’m gonna—huuaorp...” More smoke. "Sorry..."
This time Dev didn’t even flinch, simply waving it away from his face. “Yeah. Humans don’t do that. This must be one of the side effects of the fruit.”
“One of the—Why didn’t you warn me?” Mitsuo dragged a corner of his shirt over his mouth to be used like a reverse gas mask.
“I didn’t know,” said Dev. “It’s poisonous, remember? If I’d eaten it, a spontaneous case of shit manners would be the least of my concerns.”
“I…Whatever. Wha—oouurrp...sorry. What now?”
Dev massaged his temples irritably. “First, you’ve got to stop doing that.”
Mitsuo's eyebrows shot up indignantly. “Have I somehow given you the impression this is volu-auUOorpph-tary?' He belched mid-word, then promptly dropped his face into his hands.
Dev just rolled his eyes.“That sparkly smoke you’re burping up is probably magic we need you to be absorbing. If you can’t hold it in, can you at least stifle it?”
“You think I’m not trying to stifle it?!”
“Try harder.”
As if to prove his case for him, another belch attempted to jostle its way out. Mitsuo clamped his lips shut, choking down the unholy mix of glitter and gas. It made an uncomfortably loud rumbling noise in his throat, before detonating in the back of his mouth and sending a spray of pink smoke pouring out of his nostrils. He tried to contain the smoke by clapping both hands across the lower half of his burning face, but it just wove itself between the cracks. He shrugged helplessly at Dev.
“...Fine. I see the problem. But we’ve got to do something.”
“But I really can’t—”
This time he was cut off by Dev instead of his own stomach. “—Stop talking so much. If you’re not putting more fruit in it, your mouth shouldn’t be open.” Mitsuo must have looked horrified, because Dev put out a preemptive hand to silence him. “Yes, you’re going to keep eating the fruit. You don’t seem like you’re imminently going to vomit, and who knows how much magic you’ve burped up already.”
Mitsuo grimaced, sucking the inside of his lips to keep from doing precisely that. “Is there even any point? If it’s all... coming out, than I can’t be absorbing the magic.”
“If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be having side effects. We've got to at least keep trying.” Picking up Mitsuo’s discarded fruit, Dev thrust it at him. “Get started.”
It was slow going. Mitsuo could only get through a few bites before his stomach would churn, forcing him to pause and swallow back a belch, holding in the magical smoke with gritted teeth until it settled back down inside of him with a shameful gurgling, and the urge subsided long enough for him to get back to the task at hand. This method was far from perfect. Periodically he would hiccup a small puff of smoke with no warning whatsoever. Several times his stomach simply seemed to reach capacity forcing out spectacular, involuntary belches that would bring up thick clouds of the glittering luminescence. When this happened, Dev would scold him like he’d done it on purpose, and Mitsuo would offer a flat dissociated, apology while silently praying for death.
One interesting discovery was that the occasional belch wouldn't bring any smoke up at all, only a reprieve from the constant gaseous pressure trying to creep up his throat. Mitsuo had to fight not to moan in relief every time this happened. He couldn't avoid being disgusting, but he could at least have the decency to not enjoy it.
This heinous humiliation ritual continued until, finally, Mitsuo bit into the last hateful fruit. The end was in sight. He was on his second bite when he heard a skitter of rocks from the cave entrance. He froze, the fruit halfway to his mouth. They were deep in the cave, around a bend from the mouth, so he couldn't see anything. He might have imagined it. He waited a moment. Sure enough, the sound of footsteps became unmistakable.
"Dev." He tapped the healer on the arm, not taking his eyes off the entrance to their alcove.
“W-wha—Is it go time? Are you vomiting?” Asked Dev, jerking to attention, and blinking in a way that suggested he had dozed off.
“I think I heard someone coming,” Mitsuo managed to say before he had to clamp his mouth shut again.
"Shit," Dev hissed through his teeth. Looking alarmed, he dropped his voice to a whisper. "I was afraid of this. If this tree belongs to someone, you might have just eaten their retirement plan."
Oh yeah, no, this was very bad. Dev's magic was practically useless in a fight, and if Mitsuo attempted any sort of combat he was likely to belch and/or vomit up any chance they had at saving Xanthe (not to mention any shreds of his dignity that might have been holding out).
Dev whipped his head around looking for a place to hide. Finding none, he dropped to a crouch against the cave wall, dragging Mitsuo with him. This proved to be a terrible decision. Mitsuo could actually feel the delay between when his body dropped to the ground and when his stomach followed. He let out a choked noise of panic as he felt the motion jostle the pressurized contents of his gut, dislodging a frighteningly heavy pocket of gas from its murky depths. It bubbled threateningly in his chest, but Mitsuo managed to force it back down with a painful gulp. His stomach protested this vociferously, and he placed a hand over it desperately trying to placate it.
Dev was staring a hole through him. “You’d better not so much as hiccup.”
Mitsuo gurgled mutely back at him from behind his own fist, fighting a fierce battle against his own esophageal sphincter.
“I'm serious. Announcing your presence by belching is pretty high on my list of most embarrassing ways to get caught.”
Mitsuo just gurgled at him again, more urgently this time. What he was finding he was unable to open his mouth to say was that he was fairly certain he was about to explode.
Dev seemed to get the message. “No. No, Mitsuo. Don’t even think about it.”
He literally couldn’t think about anything else. Mitsuo had never needed to burp more in his life, and he was pretty sure no one else had either. Along with the truly shameful amounts of trapped gas, he could feel the smoke pooling in his stomach in a thick heavy cloud. Losing that much magic would be a massive setback. He couldn’t let it up.
“I see that look in your eyes,” said Dev. “You keep that in there.”
All Mitsuo could manage in response was a weak, pained whimper. He couldn't even gurgle anymore.
The pair of men sat in the closest thing to silence they could manage, praying to every god they could think of that the owner of the feet would turn back before reaching their alcove. Though their unwanted guest was still out of view around the bend, Mitsuo could see their shadow growing on the cave wall as they neared. With a resigned sigh, Dev got to his feet. He brought up his hands, summoning a pitiful sphere of water in preparation for a fight both men knew he couldn’t win. Though he wasn't sure how much help he'd be in his current condition, Mitsuo staggered up after him, getting ready to push Dev out of harms way.
The figure stepped fully into view.
“There you two are!” Said Ayo, breaking into a wide, crooked smile at the sight of Mitsuo and Dev. The sorcerer looked around the alcove, taking in the tree, and her party members’ pitiful defensive stances. She snorted a laugh. “Were you going to fight me with that splash of water, Dev?”
Dev sighed deeply, letting his water sphere splatter on the ground. “Hey, Ayo.”
“Come on mate, you know you’re not the combat type. Why wouldn’t you let Mitsuo—” she turned to Mitsuo, and whatever she saw must have been pretty alarming, because her smile melted like a popsicle dropped on hot flagstone. “What in the ten hells is wrong with him?”
Everything. Knowing that the intruder was one of his party members, Mitsuo was actually dreading what was to come more than when he’d thought it was a murder. The idea of belching up a cloud of pink glitter all over Ayo like the world’s grossest smoke bomb would be enough to make him wish for death even if he hadn’t already. Fuck, did he need to burp, though. He needed it so badly he almost doubled over, swallowing and clenching his jaw as more and more pressure climbed into his throat.
In a desperate bid for salvation, he turned to Dev with pleading eyes. Dev frowned slightly, but seemed to take pity. “We’re working on something," he said to Ayo. "Go back to camp, we’ll meet you soon.”
But Ayo wasn’t biting. Stepping around Dev, she examined the tree. “God. Is that what I think it is?”
Dev gave Mitsuo an apologetic shrug as though to say I tried. “Sure is.”
A look of momentary horror crossed over her face. “Dev. Don’t tell me you ate—”
“Not me. Him.” He jabbed a thumb at Mitsuo.
Now Ayo turned that wide eyed horror on him. “Damnation! Are you alright?” She whipped around to Dev. “Is that why he looks like that? Is his poison immunity not working?"
"He's alive, isn't he?"
She didn't look convinced. "Well, is he having symptoms?”
Dev shrugged. “…Not really.”
Mitsuo let out a heavy, resonant belch. Even if he'd been expecting it, it would have been too powerful for him to do fuck-all about it. There was no suppressing it, no muffling it, However Mitsuo did have the presence of mind to turn away from his friends as every burp, belch, and hiccup he’d been holding back forced their way out of him in a continuous stream of such force it was a marvel he’d lasted as long as he did. As the last rumbling echos rung out into utter, excruciating silence, Mitsuo realized he was going to have to turn and face his friends. Reluctantly he did so. Ayo and Dev were frozen in place with blank, wide-eyed stares.
The silence dragged on long enough that Mitsuo figured someone should say something. “Um…Excuse m—uurp...”
Ayo turned accusatorially to Dev. “No, symptoms, huh?”
“I’ll admit that was…" Dev struggled for a word. "Something. But he’s eaten over a dozen of those things. People burp. It’s not a poisoning symptom.”
Now, in addition to being fatally humiliated, Mitsuo was also confused. It was clear Dev didn't want to admit to Ayo that he’d voluntarily put Mitsuo in as much danger with as little thought as he absolutely had done. But belching pink smoke seemed fairly damning. Mitsuo wasn’t sure how Dev thought he could talk his way out of that one.
He was about to say as much when he suddenly noticed a rather distinct lack of pink smoke...That last belch had been a blank. On the one hand, that meant Mitsuo hadn't just orally hemorrhaged magic they sorely needed for Xanthe's remedy. On the other, from Ayo's perspective there were no signs of magic or poison or anything else out of the ordinary. Mitsuo had just burped. Fuck. Why was that so much more embarrassing?
He groaned, feeling his face flush red. “Dev, can we just tell her?”
“Yeah, Dev,” said Ayo. “Just tell her.”
Dev looked from Mitsuo to Ayo before coming to a decision. “Yeah, fine. Whatever. The belching isn’t his fault, it's the fruit. He’s been bringing up sparkling pink smoke that we think is…magic.” Now Dev’s face was also red. “It ...sounds stupid saying it out loud.”
Ayo stared at him in a way that suggested she agreed. “You’re telling me Mitsuo is burping up fairy dust?”
“It’s actually been a pretty serious issue.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Mitsuo, show her.”
Mitsuo balked. “I’m not going to—Hourph...” he let out a small, involuntary burp. This one once again brought with it the telltale cloud of pink smoke. Ayo’s jaw popped open. Mitsuo winced. “Sorry...” He gave a contrite hiccup, fanning away the resultant shimmering puff.
For a moment no one said anything. Then Ayo burst into the loudest snorting, wheezing fit of laughter Mitsuo had ever heard. She staggered around the cave, bent nearly double, clutching at her gut like she might come apart at the seams. As they watched her, he and Dev exchanged a look of shock. That was apparently the stoic healer's limit because then he was laughing almost as hard as Ayo was. They both fell to the ground, crawling around like drunk babies, and struggling for air. Mitsuo stood miserably still, trying to hold himself together so as not to add fuel to the fire.
Finally Ayo got to her feet, wiping a tear from her eye. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mitsuo. That wasn’t nice. You okay, mate?”
Dev answered for him. “He’s fine, just embarrassed. I’ve been helping him keep the rest of the symptoms at bay.” He stood, straightening himself out. “He’s got one more to go, then we can get out of here.”
Ayo gave a decisive clap. “Brilliant! Let’s get to it then.”
“You’re—ghhn...” Mitsuo stifled a belch. “—staying?”
“Of course I'm staying." She gave an incredulous snort. "Not only is the fate of my dear dear friend Xanthe at stake, but this is also hilarious. I’m locked in.”
“Dev…” Mitsuo turned helplessly to the healer.
“She’s her own person,” Dev said, thrusting the last fruit at Mitsuo. “Eat.”
Dev place his hand on Mitsuo's back, and with a miserable groan, he took another bite. Ayo watched with head cocked.
“How many of those has he eaten?” She asked Dev.
“Probably 12.”
“12? And he hasn’t puked?”
Dev shook his head. “Hasn’t been an issue. It’s really just been the—”
"Bbrrouurph...nngh...Shit."
“—That.”
Mitsuo muttered an apology, burped again, flushed red, then silently returned to his task.
Though he tried to eat quickly, the glut of fruit stretching his stomach had fully caught up to him. He was beyond full, and every breath hurt. He got about halfway through before conditions began to rapidly deteriorate.
Mitsuo attempted a bite, only to be interrupted by an ill-timed belch. Hardly unprecedented. Miserable but resigned, he dusted himself off and went in for another try. He burped again. He pulled back, covering his mouth and waiting for his stomach to settle. From behind his hand, he burped again.
“That seems like a lot," Ayo said to Dev, looking weary. "Is that normal?”
“None of this is normal,” said Dev. “But no. Mitsuo, what’s up? You’re almost done. Power through.”
Mitsuo pulled his shirt up over his mouth, speaking through the fabric. “I’m trying—uuurp—I can’t—oourrrpp—stop burping.”
Mitsuo could swear he saw the healer's lip twitch up in an aborted smile. "Yeah. We know, Mitsuo."
"I'm—bhrrp—serious. This is differ—HhRUuuRRp..." Different. He'd meant to say different, which this definitely was. Mitsuo's stomach was spasming almost like some worst-of-both-worlds hiccup-burp combo.
Currently incapable of taking another bite, Mitsuo stepped away from Dev. This was partially to spare the other man from the cloud of glitter rapidly enshrouding him, but mostly so he could collapse against the wall and sink down to the floor in a bloated, gaseous heap.
Ayo gave him a pitying look. “Dev, can’t he just stop eating? Surely he’s had enough.”
“He should really keep going,” Dev furrowed his brow. “There might not even be enough fruit here to make the extract. We’ve got to pull out all the stops.”
From the front of the cave a branch snapped.
Whipping his head to face the entrance, Dev swore. “Think we’ve got more company.”
“Fuck,” said Ayo under her breath. “And what exactly do we do about that?” She jabbed her thumb at Mitsuo and the now nearly continuous stream of smokey belches issuing up from his throat.
Dev rounded on him with an intensity that said murder wasn’t off the table. He strode over to where Mitsuo was sitting sprawled against the wall, dropped to a crouch over his legs, and clamped his own hands over the other man’s mouth. Mitsuo hadn't thought it possible for his face to get any redder, but this development seemed to do the trick. Dev's face was inches from Mitsuo’s and his dark eyes flashed with menace. Mitsuo swallowed back a belch, humming a garbled moan of protest into Dev’s palms.
Dev leaned in even closer until his lips were practically touching Mitsuo’s ear. He hissed: “You will not be responsible for all our deaths. Keep. It. In. There.”
Taking Dev’s lead, Ayo straddled Mitsuo as well. She stood bent over Dev, reaching over him to add her hands to his over Mitsuo's mouth. “Sorry for this," she whispered to Mitsuo. "This isn’t how I want to die. Just hold it a little longer.”
Dear God in hell was he trying. For someone who had no great love of public burping to begin with, there were about 50 additional layers of motivation at play here. Still, Mitsuo’s stomach was churning wildly. He was barely breathing, choking down the resultant clouds of smoke and gas, teeth clenched with the effort of keeping his mouth shut. He couldn’t do a thing to stop the wet gurgles of protest emanating from his guts, nor could he stop the faint but steady stream of smoke that had started to seep out through his nostrils as he did everything he could to keep it from exploding out of his mouth.
He had completely lost track of the footsteps. He had no conception of time, or much of anything else outside of the desperate need to belch out the pressure painfully distending his stomach. He thought of Xanthe counting on him to save her. He thought of Ayo and Dev, counting on him not to get them killed. Even still, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. Worse still, holding in the air was only making his comically abused stomach feel worse. To his horror, each swallow was starting to bring with it a sick wave of nausea. He could feel saliva pooling in his mouth. With a creeping sense of dread, Mitsuo realized he was going to throw up.
“Dev!” He hummed urgently into his friends’ hands. “I—I feel sick.” he locked his jaw, quieting a queasy burp that, nonetheless sent smoke billowing up from between Dev and Ayo’s fingers.
"Shit." Without moving his hands from Mitsuo's mouth, Dev began to channel his power through them. They glowed as he attempted to soothe Mitsuo's rising nausea. "Is that better?"
Mitsuo shook his head, failing to hold in a deep, sick belch. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I think I'm gonna..." he couldn't say it.
“No you aren't,” stated Ayo.
“Don’t you dare,” hissed Dev.
“What the absolute fuckity fuck are you three doing?” Asked Calla, stepping into the alcove with Helena at her side.
At the sight of their two party members, all the strength seemed to leave Dev's body. “Oh thank the creator. It's you guys."
He practically fell off Mitsuo, wilting by his side. Ayo followed suit.
Helena glared at each of them in turn. “Glad to see you’re enjoying yourselves in here. Have any of you actually found anything of use?”
“You bet we have!” Exclaimed Ayo, gesturing proudly at Mitsuo.
Calla stifled a laugh. “Oh, yeah. Good find. He’s beautiful.”
“Fuck.” Mitsuo lurched forward, clutching his gut like he’d been shot. “I can’t hold it.” He was going to be sick.
“What is happening?" said Helena.
"What' he supposed to be holding?" said Calla.
“I’m sorry!” said Mitsuo.
“Mitsuo, no!” said Dev and Ayo.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m—”
Mitsuo’s stomach flipped, and he turned to the side certain he was about to spew up all their hopes and dreams all over everybody's shoes. But, when he opened his mouth what came out instead was a long, low, continuous belch and a leisurely stream of pink smoke that poured from his throat and floated up towards the ceiling, filling the alcove with a fog of the stuff. With grim resignation Dev and Ayo brought their shirts up over their faces, Calla gagged and followed suit, and Helena just stood there staring at Mitsuo with a look of disappointment that rivaled that of his father. Finally, the seemingly interminable font of gas and smoke issuing from Mitsuo’s throat petered out with a last hiccupy burp. For purely emotional reasons, he let himself fall over flat on his face refusing to interact with anybody.
Ayo spoke first. "Looks like that anti-emetic spell actually worked a treat, Dev."
“I know my craft," he replied from behind his shirt.
“You all seem like you've got this under control," said Helena flatly. “I’m going back to Xanthe.”
She turned on her heel and left without another word. Mitsuo was determined to remain on the floor until he decomposed and became one with the cave, but his remaining three party members managed to peel him up and practically force the rest of the fruit down his throat.
★ ★ ★
On the shore of a lake near camp, Mitsuo was sprawled over a log staring at the sky. Night had long since fallen, and the moon hung bright and full in a perfectly clear field of stars. The entire sky was duplicated in the mirror-like surface of the placid water below. Mitsuo lay there, listening to the gentle waves lap over smooth stones, feeling the cool nigh breeze on his face. All he could think about was how much he dreaded making eye contact with his party members over breakfast tomorrow.
The moment they'd arrived at camp, Dev had rushed Mitsuo into his tent to draw his blood before he could burp up anymore magic smoke. Apparently they'd pulled it off because the effects of the extract on Xanthe's condition had been immediate, dramatic, and—most importantly—positive. The moment the forest nymph's eyes had opened and her breathing had steadied, Dev practically collapsed in relief. Ayo and Calla had almost knocked Xanthe right back out with the hugs they gave her, and Helena was beaming, and trying to pretend she wasn't crying. Mitsuo had just stood there burping quietly into his fist.
After what he'd gone through today to help Xanthe, the depth of Mitsuo's devotion to his friend was hardly in question. He was beyond relieved she was going to be okay. But that was just about the only positive emotion he was experiencing. Once he was certain she was both alright, and cared for, he had quietly recused himself from human civilization to hide in the woods.
That's where he'd been for the last several hours.
“Nice spot,” said Dev, emerging silently from the surrounding forest like a particularly adroit cat. His dark hair caught the moon light almost as well as the water.
Mitsuo started, but otherwise didn’t move.
Dev came closer. “Feeling better? You seem to be burping at a more normal rate.”
Mitsuo cringed, but willed his tone to neutrality. “I am. Thanks for noticing.”
“What have you been up to?”
“Not much.”
Dev nodded knowingly. “Vomiting?”
“…Yes.”
"All evening?"
"I also cramped and writhed in the dirt for a while." Mitsuo did not remotely feel up to company. Especially not Dev's. "Did you need something?"
Dev gave him a flat look. "You spent all day eating poison, then disappeared for hours in the woods. This is a wellness check."
"Oh...that's..." Mitsuo's face felt hot. "Thanks."
“You should come back to camp. We’re celebrating.” As if in demonstration, he took a swig from a gleaming hip flask.
"I'm good here."
Dev seemed to consider this for a moment. Then he came up beside Mitsuo, looming over him in a way that made it obvious he was expected to sit up and scoot over. He did.
Dev sat. Way closer than he normally would have. Mitsuo was rapidly formulating a theory that the hip flask had already seen plenty of play tonight. Dev gave him a slightly unfocused look of discernment. “...You're still embarrassed. You shouldn't be."
Mitsuo could have laughed. “Right. Thanks. I’ll stop.”
"I'm serious. No one cares." He seemed to reconsider. "Well...they think it's funny. But that's unavoidable."
"You don't have to—" If given the choice between outright mockery and a sincere attempt at comforting him, Mitsuo would take the former any day. "...It's not a big deal, I'll get over it. I just need to sulk for a few more hours."
Frustrated, Dev shook his head. "Who cares this much about burping? Who cares this much about anything?"
"Me. I care about everything." Mitsuo tilted his head back towards the sky, forcing his voice to level out. "What happened today was gross, and public, and weird, and I don't want to talk about it anymore."
"But you're still upset."
"I feel disgusting."
Dev cocked his head in confusion, staring at Mitsuo with that impossible-to-read intensity of his. "There's nothing disgusting about you."
Completely caught of guard, Mitsuo tried to obscure his deep blush with an incredulous snort. "Y-you wouldn't classify what happened in that cave as disgusting?"
Not looking away, Dev just shrugged. "I'm definitely not saying it was pleasant, but it also wasn't your fault. You were just trying to help our friend. No one thinks you're gross."
How could he believe that? Dev was arguably today's biggest victim. He'd been forced to remain within touching distance of Mitsuo for the entire fiasco. "...Thanks. You should go back to the party. They'll be wondering what happened to you."
He wasn't looking at his friend, so it came as a surprise when Dev let out a truly exasperated sigh. “Fuck, dude, no one cares!" Hearing his chronically monotone friend raise his voice was enough of an event that Mitsuo started. "You did an amazing thing for Xanthe today, and everyone respects you for it.”
“They do?” Mitsuo blinked back his surprise.
“They do.”
He made a genuine attempt to let this sink in. “In that case I—” It didn’t work. “—Still feel awful.”
“Come on, dude.”
“I think I burped more today than I spoke.”
“It happens.”
“Technically yes, but probably just to me.”
With an exasperated groan, Dev let his head loll forward for a moment as though gathering himself. Then, with a sense of resolve, he straightened, took a swig from his flask, drew in a breath, and burped unremarkably into the back of his hand. When he spoke his voice was casual, but Mitsuo could swear his face had gone red.
“Excuse me.” He shrugged. "Just slipped out."
Mitsuo had never before been, and hopefully never again would be so touched by someone burping.
“Dev...” He said, his voice steeped in sentiment, enough so that Dev turned to look at him “…Don’t let it happen again. That was disgusting.”
The resultant bruise to his arm took a week to fade.
I sighed walking down the street, looking out for new prey. They just didn't make em like they used to before. Everyone was so focused on fitness, and diets, and fucking wheatgrass. Why did mortals love wheatgrass so much?!
Where was the decadence? The opulence? The grandiose of hedonism that only the luxury of true nobility could experience?
No, all of that was gone. No longer was the plushness and fatness of hedonism celebrated, exalted, even. It was shamed. And that was truly the greatest failure of humanity.
Now, here I was stalking the streets. Hoping some gym bunny who was a little heftier would come by so I didn't feel like I was starving.
Instead you passed. You with your brown skin glistening with sweat. You with curly hair tied up with a bandana. You were huffing and puffing walking out of the gym. I narrowed my eyes and could see you snacking on some chocolate bar. Ah, you were a first timer. First time gym member were so delectable. So easy to have slip into those old habits again.
I decide to descend from the rooftop, gently floating down. I come up from behind you. Your blood throbs in your veins, loud enough for my hearing to pick up on. I have to stop myself from licking my fangs. Apparently humans didn't do that either.
I enchant you with both words and appearance. I invite you to dinner, using a little hypnotism to convince you. I let you go back to your place to get ready and then escort you back to my place.
You are enchanted with the castle I live in. It's a bit gothic in design but very modern on the inside. I escort you to a dining hall that a few centuries would've been considered a feast hall. I have you sit at the head of the table gazing at the feast before you.
There's glazed ham, stuffed turkey, fried fish, fruits delicately coated in sugar. Puffed pastries, cakes, even modern day candy. Whatever could've been imagined on the long dining table was there.
You obliviously say you can't eat all of this. It would be too rude to eat this sumptuous feast. I wave you off and encourage you to eat. You get a whiff and by then the magic has slipped in and seeped into your bones.
You feel compelled almost to eat now. A slice of glazed honey ham, melts down your throat. Tender and juicy meat as a bit dribbles down your lip. My eyes roll back again, getting simply a scent of how delectable your blood would be after this feast. It was just a matter of patience. All good things happened to those who wait.
It was a tantalizing two hours of you eating, talking. Surprisingly out of my victims you were the one who interested me the most. The one most fit to become my little blood bank for a while. You sat in your seat, tears ruining your makeup a bit. You had gorged yourself on the meal like a proper sovereign.
Your belly pushed against your dress, pushing into the table now. Your breast sat upon your belly like books placed on a proper shelf. A belch rippled from your mouth and you moaned. You shuddered and whined a little. Your eyes hazy and glazed over from the amount of food you filled yourself up with. Sitting there so pretty and fat, like a fattened up doe.
And just like a doe you had no clue when the predator had descended onto you. I finally sunk my fangs in, tasting your blood. I could get snippets of the flavors of the feast. A heady moan fell out of my mouth as the flavors danced on my lip. A small gasp and whine come from you. I ignore them as I take my fill.
Once I feel my own belly filled, I pull away. I ask my servants to take you to the princess suite of my castle. I held a hand to my own bloated stomach, pressing against my button-up and vest. I let out a small burp and shudder.
Oh you would do, you would do nicely. You were going to be my princess of gluttony, glutting yourself on my feast cooked up by my servants. Oh you were going to get fat, obese even, and I was going to get fat off you, my princess.
Today’s fantasy is about a magical mystery woman who starts feeding a man until he’s very stuffed, and then when he can’t take another bite, she puts a hand to his distended stomach and causes the food he ate to duplicate again and again and again … 😈
You're a young mage. Though talented and creative with your magical studies, you have a tendency to be a little… lazy. And that laziness has the propensity of getting you into trouble.
Like the one time you tried to enchant a broom into fetching water to fill your bath and ended up flooding your mentor's home instead. The fallout from that hadn't been fun, but you'd learned your lesson. At least that's what you'd told your mentor.
In reality, though? If you could save yourself from some physical effort with your magic, then by all the hells you'd try to do it.
It was late the night you realized you'd worked through both lunch and dinner, leaving you absolutely starving. But the kitchen was on the other side of the house and you really, really didn't feel like walking all the way there and all the way back. Plus everyone was bound to be asleep at this hour, so you'd be reduced to cooking, too.
Why couldn't you just magic the food to your room instead? Better yet, skip the whole boring eating process and magic it directly into your stomach?
The possible consequences never even crossed your mind as you began to quickly compile a spell. A special twist on a transportation spell would probably do the trick, you thought to yourself. A portal directly from the pantry to your gut. What could possibly go wrong?
So you settled on the wording, gathered your power, and focused it through your wand. You cast the spell with a flick of your wrist, but for a moment, nothing happened. You frowned down at your wand, wondering what you'd screwed up this time-- but then you felt it.
A tingle of magic and something dropping into your stomach from within. You had no way of telling what it might be besides food, but you didn't really care in the midst of your sudden excitement. It worked! The spell worked! Grabbing some paper and a quill, you began scribbling down the details of your spellwork for further study, barely even noticing when you felt the same sensation again.
You barely noticed it the third time it happened, too.
By the fourth time, though, you were starting to feel a bit full. The spell wasn't transporting small bites of food, after all, for that would have been incredibly inefficient. Sure, you hadn't specified the exact parameters of the spell in your haste, but the intention was there and that's what mattered, right?
By the sixth time the magic dropped food into your stomach, you'd abandoned your quill to press a hand against your now-bulging belly. You winced, feeling your body already straining to hold whatever you'd bespelled into it. "That's enough," you grumbled under your breath as you shook your wand. "You can stop now."
But then it happened again. And again. And again. By the tenth time you could feel panic starting to rise alongside some faint nausea, your now obviously distended middle straining against your mage's robes. You were belatedly starting to understand why your mentor always stressed putting limits on a spell, for while you'd told the magic what to do, you hadn't restrained the quantity for it to transport, nor the type of food you wanted it to send.
Something else forced its way into your stomach, leaving you whimpering as a much larger mass warped your belly into an unnatural shape and sent you stumbling to your knees. From the weight and the long, hard protuberance on one side, you could only guess it to be the whole ham your mentor had been keeping for a special occasion.
Twenty pounds of meat teleported directly into your stomach all at once. What was next? An apple? A loaf of bread? A side of beef?
You clutched at your stomach, your eyes growing wide as the tingle hit again. Guess you'd find out soon enough.
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The cake in the fridge stares you down. I lick your lips thinking about the moist deliciousness, but you couldn't, shouldn't! You had a diet. You had a gym membership. And you had been saving that cake for your cheat day. It was fine, you would survive.
The next day you look in the fridge and see the cake. Your chubby belly growls at you. You think about it, the richness of the cake. But you shake your head, instead you would have some eggs and make your own lox sandwich! There you were having protein now.
You were at work and you could've sworn you saw the cake inside the fridge in the break room. No, it was just your imagination. There was only some chocolate pudding. I mean it wouldn't hurt, no! You had to stick to the diet. So, you opted to eat the salad you brought.
You get home and all you can think about is the cake. It lures you, ensnares you with the richness of the frosting. You slide your finger on top of the cake and moan. So, good. You shake your head and decide that was enough temptation for one night.
For the next six days the cake calls you. You feel compelled to eat it but you resist, you always resist. You go with the healthier option and a little treat to get you by. Finally, it's sunday and now you may indulge.
But when you look inside the fridge, there's only one slice of cake left. You furrow your brow trying to remember when you even grabbed a slice. But it didn't matter, all that mattered was the cake. You got a fork and begun to dig in.
It's sweet, moist, and cold. Almost like an ice cream cake. The chocolate is rich and thick as it goes down your throat. You moan and finish your slice and when you look in the fridge, there's a replica of the cake. You don't remember buying another one but that didn't matter. You grab your fork and dig in. Of course, you didn't care. You couldn't resist temptation.
The young princess was known across the land for her beauty-- with her long, golden hair, her warm brown eyes, and her svelte form always dressed in the latest fashion. Her kindness and gentle nature won her the love of her people, despite her father's cold, calculating reputation, but she was also hopelessly naïve.
Unfortunately for her, her father's callous ways left him with enemies who were all too eager to see him humiliated in some way. So when a stranger offered her a drink at a state dinner, she took it. And when the drink left her tummy feeling a little strange, she didn't think anything of it, because she saw no reason for anyone to mean her harm.
It wasn't until the royal family sat down with a large group of foreign dignitaries for a lavish dinner that the princess realized how hungry she was. Not just hungry, but absolutely starving, her stomach making the most obscene noises as she restlessly waited for the meal to begin. Servants placed tray after tray of exquisite foods before them on the dining room's large tables, piled high with things like bread, meats, cheeses, and roasted vegetables. Her mouth watering, the princess clutched at the edge of the table until her father indicated that his guests could eat.
The problem wasn't apparent at first, though the princess did finish her first plate in record time and moved uncharacteristically on to a second. It wasn't until she'd begun her third plate that the nobles around her started to take notice, and by the fourth, the whispers and stares began. Her near-frantic eating never slowed as she put more and more away, the waist of her expensive gown stretching tightly over her swelling stomach. The more she ate, the more flushed her cheeks became, as an unfamiliar pleasure began to burn deep in her abdomen.
By the sixth plate she was practically panting, soft whimpers rising from between her lips after every bite, and her overindulgence had finally reached the ears of her father. Maidservants arrived to draw her away from the table and out of the public eye, but she pushed them away, already reaching for a half-finished tray of venison and pulling it closer. No longer caring to fill a plate, she began grabbing the roasted meat in her hands and shoveling it directly into her mouth with unabashed greed.
She completely ignored the shouts of horror and disgust around her as she gorged herself, completely obsessed with filling the aching void within her belly. She didn't even notice when her seams split to expose her distended gut to all who looked. She needed to eat, she needed to chase more of the heat that left her ripped panties absolutely soaked--
On the next mouthful, a powerful orgasm shattered the princess's thoughts as she jerked in her seat with a very obvious cry.
And just like that, the spell was broken. The princess opened her eyes to find dozens of powerful people staring at her half-nude body, her mouth and the swell of her breasts splattered with grease. Her stomach nearly reached her knees, so tight and full that the reddened skin radiated heat. And her father watched her with silent distain, his pursed lips and the faint tinge of pink high on his cheekbones the only indications of his complete and utter embarrassment.
Horrified, the princess grabbed for a linen napkin in a futile attempt to hide the evidence of her shame, but it was no use.
Everyone had seen her.
Everyone knew how the realm's beloved princess had turned herself into an absolute pig… and gotten off on it in front of a crowd.
She was absolutely ruined.
And as the room erupted into mayhem, a noble at the far end of the table bit back a wicked smirk.
“Rose!” Jinja cried angrily. The tall ginger woman stared down at Rose who was munching on a chocolate bar. “That was for everyone!”
Rose looked guiltily to her right to avoid Jinja’s gaze, but instead met the equally enraged gaze of her clone, Sylph. The golden eyed girl glared at her medic mother, mocha colored arms crossed across her chest. “I…I didn’t know…” Rose mumbled in embarrassment.
“I was really looking forward to eating that chocolate!” Bren growled. “It’s really special and only found in this city!”
“Well I thought we were allowed to eat anything in the pile!” snapped Rose. “Why didn’t you remove it? If you want it so bad then why can’t we go and buy another bar?”
Jinja turned her icy stare to Chase. “I thought I told you to put the bar on the kitchen counter.”
“Ummm…I maybe forgot to remove it from the pile...” The raven haired teen rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. “And I would go buy another one if the shops weren’t all closed. It’s ten o’clock at night.”
“We’ve all stuffed ourselves anyways.” Rose lay on her back, resting her head in Sylph’s lap. “Let’s just sleep and go to the store tomorrow.” The young woman belched loudly.
“Actually…mother…,” the word awkwardly left Sylph’s lips. She loved Rose to death, but it was still hard for the clone to form the words. “You are the only one who’s literally ‘stuffed’ themselves.”
“Nuh uh, Sweetie,” Dax cooed. “You aren’t getting away with this that easily.”
“What do you mean?” asked Rose, a pitiful look popping up on her face.
“Don’t give me that! You’ll have to have a punishment~” Dax tilted Rose’s chin up so their eyes could meet.
Jinja scoffed. “If it’s a punishment made by you then it’ll be a reward.”
Beyal’s eyes brightened. “I think I have an idea!”
TCT plus Sylph turned to look at the monk as he began to look through his bag. The small young man gave a gasp of excitement as he pulled out a leather collar with what looked to be ancient script carved into it and a large, yellow cat bell dangling from it. “This should be a suiting punishment for Rose’s crime.”
“It’s more of a boo-boo than a crime, Beyal.” Jinja corrected. “But…what does it do?”
Beyal attached the collar to Rose’s neck. The medic squeaked in surprised which caused Sylph to let out a slight growl. The monk adjusted the size to where it fit comfortably around the small girl’s neck. “Now all of you must touch Rose. After you all have done this I will explain what this ancient device does.”
Since Sylph already had Rose lying on her lap she was exempt from this task. The other five teenagers gently laid a hand on Rose as instructed to. Beyal was the last to touch Rose and afterwards the brown haired girl briefly glowed with a blue light along with the carvings on the collar. Then, the other young adults in the room resonated the same light for about thirty seconds.
“Alright,” Beyal smiled. “Now we can begin. When we infiltrated STORM last week I found this ancient artifact. It was used to feed those that were going on hunting trips in the ancient days of the five tribes. This belonged to the tribe Bren originated from.”
“Bren can’t live without a bite to eat so it makes sense.” Jinja rolled her eyes. “He can be such a pig…”
“Hey!” Bren cried angrily, but before he could argue with the ginger haired girl, Beyal cut him off with a cough of annoyance.
“As I was saying, the collar feeds whoever is wearing it. When the collar is touched by a person that is not wearing it what they eat or drink will go into the wearer’s stomach.”
“For real?!” Chase cried out. He had to try it out for himself. The leader pulled out a liter of soda. “Let’s test it, Beyal.”
The monk shrugged. “Go on ahead. I assure you all that this is no joke.”
Rose was sitting up at this point, tugging at the collar. Jinja glared at her. It looked like she was going to be stuck in this mess. Why did that chocolate bar have to be so tasty?
Chase began to chug the liter of soda. As the soda poured down his throat it seemed to disappear half way to his stomach. He didn’t feel the liquid hit his gut at all. The sound of the bell on Rose’s collar rang in his ears. His eyes wandered over to Rose who was holding her stomach in disbelief.
Rose could taste the cola on her tongue. It was definitely the same brand of cola that Chase was drinking right in front of her. She gasped slightly as she felt the caffeinated drink pour and pool in a cold puddle in her stomach. This was for real.
The medic let out a loud, long belch as Chase finished off the last drops. “It…it worked…The soda is in me now.” A sense of dread caused Rose’s heart to speed up as everyone registered what the small woman had said.
The group began to grab different goodies and treats out of the pile. Cakes, cookies, candy, chips, soda, and ice cream were all being sat in front of each teenager, excluding Rose. The medic rubbed her already full belly. This was nuts. This was going to seriously maim her.
“Beyal, my stomach can’t take much more. It’ll burst! Please stop!” Rose pleaded.
Beyal devoured a piece of cake. Rose could hear the bell on the collar ring as the cake popped into her belly. She let out a small moan as Beyal watched in interest.
“As long as the collar is on, you can expand infinitely. It is up to everyone when you have had enough.” The monk explained. Rose’s face paled as the others grinned mischievously. Even Sylph looked like she was enjoying herself.
“I want a beanbag Sweetie.” Dax chuckled. He gulped down some ice cream and grinned wider as he watch Rose shiver at the sudden coolness.
As TCT ate, Rose’s belly stretched. The bell on her collar chimed wildly as its magic took hold of her. As her belly grew to the size of five month pregnant woman’s, the group decided to view their progress. Their medic was squirming and panting. Once again, Beyal had to assure the group that as long as the collar stayed on, Rose would not burst. Jinja rubbed circles on Rose’s belly to relieve her slightly.
“It’s so tight.” The taller female said in awe. “But it’s also soft. It’s not like a drum or balloon.”
Sylph blushed a bright crimson as she rubbed her groaning mother’s plush stomach area. “God mom…you’re so full…”
Rose gave the younger girl an uneasy smile. “Yea, I feel really stuffed.”
Chase smirked. “I think there’s more room.”
“But Chaaaase!” Rose whined.
“No buts! You need to be punished.” Rose frowned as she could tell they were all enjoying this too much.
Jinja grinned. “I should use this when I’m having cravings. For the first time in my life I’m able to eat sweets without any consequences.”
“But Rose will be facing the consequences.” Sylph huffed, too frazzled by Rose’s once again swelling gut and the other’s cruelties to remember Rose liked being referred to as “mom”.
“Aw c’mon, Sylph. You and Dax are enjoying this the most.” Chase rolled his eyes.
Sylph turned to see Dax rubbing Rose’s expanding stomach as he finished up his fourth pint of ice cream. Beyal was finishing up the last bit of the ice cream that was in the goody pile. The small woman was now twice as big as woman in the ninth month of her pregnancy. She was holding his gut in shaky hands and moaning. Sylph could only watch the scene and blush.
“No objections? Good.” TCT’s leader pats Sylph’s head, earning himself a grunt of anger from the small clone. Chase did not understand that Sylph could cut off his balls and have little to no regret.
Even though Sylph was slightly against this punishment she grabbed a bag of chips and began to munch. Rose moaned as she felt the pointy bits jab inside her. Sylph hated seeing her mother in pain, but something in her didn’t want this to stop. Instead of voicing her negative opinion once more, she tossed the chips into the trash bin while the others weren’t looking and began to eat cup after cup of gelatin. Rose’s belly expanded with each bite she took, jiggling as another pound or two was packed on her.
Rose had not been wearing her usual purple and black jacket during this time. It was thankfully lying on a chair. Her shirt’s seams creaked and began making cracking noises. Her belly was getting so big it was inhuman. Her clothes wouldn’t be able to hold them much longer.
“Dax…my clothes are going to tear. We can’t afford new ones!” Rose said in a panic. Before she knew what she was doing, the girl had slipped off her shirt to reveal a sports bra. Her breasts were slightly swollen from the calorie intake and so was her rear. Her covered breasts rested on the top of her belly.
“I got your pants covered, Sweetie.” The Lowlander slipped off Rose’s jeans just before they could burst. The medic blushed, but the embarrassment subsided as she realized her belly covered her panties. The young woman had to spread her legs so her belly had more room to grow. The growling mass was now touching the ground and expanding forward.
Little by little the pile was growing smaller. Unlike the pile, Rose’s belly was growing bigger. It reached the size of a large beanbag chair and in another five minutes was slightly larger. The group was finally satisfied with Rose’s size. Beyal poked into Rose’s belly button, discovering it had grown deeper in the last couple of hours.
Rose struggled to her feet. She raised slowly, her belly trying to tug her forward. This was killing her back. “Ugh…I need lie down.” The medic let out a loud, long burp. Dax stood quickly and pinned his girlfriend to the wall.
“You’re not done yet, Sweetie.” Dax smile and pulled out one final cookie. “Just one more to go.” As Rose moaned he placed the cookie in her mouth. “You can go when this last little bit is in your tummy.” His large hand caressed her even larger stomach.
Sylph glared at the lowlander. “Hasn’t she had enough?”
“It won’t hurt her,” argued Dax as he leaned in towards Rose’s face. Her humongous stomach pressed against his flat one. The tall male began to munch on the cookie while Rose blushed. She moaned against Dax’s lips as the cookie filled an empty spot in her overly stretched belly.
Dax kissed Rose’s lips. “Now you’re done my love. Go take a hot shower and rest.”
Rose stood in place, slightly stunned. She took a step forward, but her unbalanced body caused her to begin a fall. Sylph was immediately grabbing onto Rose’s right side while Dax had her left.
“Um…well let us help you into the shower.” Dax suggested.
“Such a bright man…,” Sylph scoffed and rolled her golden eyes.
As Chase watched the two lead Rose away he grinned. “Whelp! That was pretty awesome! Let’s do it to me next!”
Bren blushed at the thought of a swollen, defenseless Chase. “Are you sure?” Chase gave Bren a wink that made his face redden completely.
“Sorry Bren, but you will have to wait for quite a while. If Rose takes off the collar now she will indeed explode.” Beyal explained.
As Bren moaned in disappointment, a thought hit Jinja hard. “Uh Beyal, you better go warn Dax so he doesn’t take the collar off Rose before bathing her!”
The monk gasped and sprinted to the bathroom.
Sylph was glad Dax suggested the shower. Even though her self-proclaimed mother could barely fit and Sylph was squished under her belly for a good thirty minutes, it was worth it. Rose wasn’t coddling her. Instead, Sylph got to care for the defenseless medic. Not to mention the warm water softened Rose’s belly to the point it felt like a marshmallow.
Jinja had come in to check on her, Dax, and Rose when she had discovered stretch marks beginning to show along the brunette’s stomach area and slightly below it. They were most likely permanent. It was better than her exploding though. Thank God, Beyal had come in time to warn them. Jinja had rubbed lotion on Rose’s wobbling belly to possibly lighten the stretch marks and keep the throbbing mass hydrated. All the smaller female could do was moan from tightness and discomfort.
Everyone had finally turned in for the night. Rose was so tired and sore that as soon as her head hit the pillow of the queen sized bed she was fast asleep. Dax cuddled up next to his girlfriend, giving her comforting rubs on her belly until he himself had dozed off. The lowlander held her tight to make sure she felt safe and was secure on the bed.
Sylph climbed up on the mattress. The clone sat next to Rose and stared at her. They were so much alike. They were a similar height and had similar hair. They both wore glasses. Their eyes were the same shape. The only differences were that Sylph’s skin was a very light brown due to her genes from Holly and her eyes were a bright golden like Seven’s.
The younger female sighed as she rested her head on Rose’s swollen stomach. Sylph nuzzled the large, gurgling mass while rubbing it. She smiled.
