#self stuffing

Confused, they open it to find it filled to the brim with food of all kinds. Meats, Sweets, Vegetables, Fruits, and so on…

But it was completely empty when they first found it! Is this some sort of magic? Is it safe?

They look back inside and the find their attention caught by a gorgeous birthday cake. Their mouth begins to salivate, and they are overwhelmed by the desire to taste it.

Foolishly, they decide to dig a chunk out with their hand. The reason, “a little bite won’t make me sick.” They bite into the decadently sweet cake and groan with delight. They reach out and dig more and more chunks of cake and shovel it into their mouth.

After demolishing half of the cake, they begin to feel parched. They look around and find a big bottle of lemon-lime soda. They pull it out, unscrew the cap, and begin to chug. After demolishing most of the bottle, they stop to catch their breath and a hearty burp escapes.

Despite having consumed so much already, they still feel hungry. In fact, they are hungrier than before they opened the fridge.

A fragment of their consciousness demands they stop. But it’s too late, they have fallen into the fridge’s trap. Entranced by the magic, they greedily eye the other contents of the fridge and lick their lips. They continue to feast on the contents of the fridge; pizza, pasta, sandwiches, burritos, dumplings, so on and so forth. Every item is somehow the perfect temperature and the most delicious thing they ever tasted.

They feel their clothes pinch tight against their body. They look down to see what’s wrong, and realize that their stomach and the rest of their body has been rapidly growing fat as they’ve feasted.

Still far to entranced by the power, the chuckle and give their gut a slap. They return their focus to the fridge and continue their gluttonous rampage.

Hours later, you arrive on the scene. You are shocked when you see them, lying on the ground with their clothes in tatter, and their body has been enveloped with a few hundred pounds of pure fat. Most of the colossal corpulence, is stored in their tremendous and rotund gut. Which, rises several feet in the air.

Seteth sighs, he had searched all over the Aether Resort, but he could not find Byleth. He was told that Byleth was headed here earlier this morning, yet he could not find the man anywhere. He was hoping they could share lunch together. But not in this “awful” place.

His stomach growls for attention. He sighs again, it was irritating how his appetite had not recovered from Kiran’s devious machinations. He needs to either find Byleth or return to the Order of the Heroes quickly. Seteth looks at the inn, Byleth wasn’t there earlier, but he could be now. One more check and if he is not there, it’s time to leave.

The inn is astonishingly empty, usually several of the other heroes would be mulling about the place, and there had been earlier, but they are all gone now. Weird but not impossible, Seteth pays it no mind. He checks the sign-out sheet, and finds that Byleth had signed in after Seteth left. And according to the sheet he hadn’t left yet!

Seteth explores further within the building; the dining room, the game room, the bathroom, and the bedrooms. Yet he still cannot locate Byleth. Frustrated, Seteth nearly grumbles something uncouth. Had Byleth merely forgotten to sign out?

He is just about ready to quit and leave, when he notices something out of place. The door to Kiran’s private room was ajar. Seteth fears that place, but if it could give him some hints… He approaches the door and a warm and pleasant scent fills his nostrils. Food, and lots of it.

This is a trap. It has to be. This is where Kiran invites guests, and disarms them with delicate words and kind smiles. Deceives them into eating that accursed yet heavenly food. The decadent flavors that overwhelm the senses and awakens an insatiable and primal hunger. Causing the person to toss away any decorum and begin to devour more and more and more! All the while, the enchanted food reshapes their body. The abdomen rounds and pushes outward. Square muscular pectorals puff up like melons. Thighs thicken and squeeze together. Posteriors expand and crush the chair beneath them. Fat bunches under the neck and forms a second chin. The Summoner’s plot was clear; they sought to fatten up heroes. And many times, they had succeeded. During his search for Byleth, Seteth crossed paths with numerous corpulent individuals. He had even been in their position a few times. But whenever Kiran succeeded to fatten him like a pig, Seteth would eventually get exhausted and demand the spell be lifted.

Now, Seteth has come to a conclusion. Kiran must be fed up with him rejecting their perverse idea of paradise. They have laid out this trap to capture him once and for all! Perhaps Byleth was never at the resort at all. Or perhaps Byleth was assisting Kiran, as he has a few times before.

Seteth grumbles, “I must leave.”

However, his stomach grumbles deafeningly louder. Damn. He has waited to long and walked around far too much today. He picks his head and realized that he had walked into the room, guided by his hunger and the mesmerizing scent of the food. He looked at the table situated between two seats. One was a smaller chair suited for Kiran, and the other a love seat, in case the guest’s transformation is exceptionally massive. There were two covered silver platters of food. Kiran wasn’t going to strip their victims of all choice in their fate. Seteth’s conscious continues nagging at him to leave. But his hunger and curiosity beg him to uncover the dishes and peek inside. Well… it couldn’t hurt to look.

He lifts the lid of the platter on the left. It contains; 10 ounces of Filet-Mignon cooked medium rare and drenched in garlic butter, two cups of mash potatoes with savory gravy pooling in the center, green beans cooked in bacon grease with crumbles of the bacon served with it, and three oven fresh sourdough rolls. Saliva builds in his mouth and threatens to drool from his lips. He puts the lid back on and redirects his attention to the other platter. Underneath it he finds; chicken breast fried and crusted with parmesan, fettucine noodles drowned in alfredo and marinara, and slices of cheesy garlic bread. A beautiful display of rich carbo-loaded paradise.

Seteth knows he needs to put the lid back on now, if he takes any longer temptation will overthrow reason. But when his stomach growls and gurgles uncomfortably once more, he instead sets the lid down off to the side. Seteth reaches out and snatches a slice of garlic bread. “It couldn’t hurt to have a single slice, right?” he thinks to himself. “I will need to energy to continue my trek back down to the castle…” He stares longingly at the bread; he shouldn’t allow it near his mouth until he leaves the inn. However, he has long reached the event horizon. He takes a big chomp out of the piece. The bread crunches as it is torn apart by his teeth and he quickly chews and swallows the entire slice of bread. With the bread swallowed he licks the greasy residue around his lips and fingers. He grabs another slice, “Another won’t hurt.” It is inhaled just as quickly as the first.

A bubbling sensation starts in his stomach. Seteth rubs at his abdomen without acknowledging the inevitable. He can no longer think straight; he only wants more. He grabs a fork and knife and cuts off a corner of the chicken parmesan. He puts in his mouth to chew and simultaneously cuts another larger slice of the chicken. He swallows the piece and shoves the next one with hardly a second in between, and cuts another larger portion. As he adds the third to his mouth, he plops down in the love seat. As he descends, he holds onto his at his abdomen, a new layer of padding has already begun to form. Once again, he ignores it, he starts winding the pasta on his fork. He slurps off the saucy noodles from his fork in one hand. In the other hand he lifts the lid of the other platter.

While he reaches for a sourdough roll the padding on his abs pudges out past a beginner belly. He bites the roll in half and stabs the fork into the green beans. Seteth inhales the beans and cuts into the steak. While his thighs and ass fill out his pants. While the square outline of his chest puffs into a rounder droopier shape. He sinks his teeth into the savory meat and looks for his next target. The enchantment spurs him onward; he only ponders the flavor of the food and the empty feeling in his stomach. In contrast, his belly is more than filling. His belt reaches its limit and snaps apart, causing the doughy ball to spill into his lap. Seteth only reacts with a sigh of relief. His rear further widens and can now cover almost an entire cushion of the love seat. His thighs are becoming tubes of lard and are closing in on each other. Love handles bulge on the side of his waist, fat fills out around his neck, and his cheeks are round even after he swallows.

The door to the room creaks back open, and a young man’s voice comes from the other side. “I was too late.” It was Byleth who found Seteth.

Seteth recognizes Byleth’s presence. Yet it isn’t enough to break from his trance. He looks over his shoulder, fat sagging under the chin, “Byleth- *urp* I already started eating the food you made for me.”

“I didn’t make it.”

Seteth looks back at the food in front of him as he responds. “Alright then, I am eating Kiran’s food.” He returns to stuffing his mouth.

Byleth walks towards Seteth. His words invoke disappointment but his tone suggests amusement, “You shouldn’t have eaten that.” He reaches the dining table and observes the damage. More than half of all the food on the table has been demolished. “Yikes.” He looks at Seteth and see how much he has ballooned. The buttons of his shirt are straining and there are gaps leaving his undershirt and the bottom of his belly visible. Byleth’s eyes open wide and he blushes “Oh wow…!” Byleth recognizes that Seteth’s growth is faster and likely greater than the last time.

Seteth blushes and briefly looks Byleth in the eyes. “You must be happy that I fell for Kiran’s trap.”

Byleth sighs and plainly states. “Kiran didn’t make this for you.” Seteth’s pudgy face turns pale. “I take it you never asked anyone else here where Kiran was. The inn being empty should have tipped you off…”

Seteth finally drops his fork and swallows down his food with a distressed gulp. “Oh Goddess, this is a new guest’s meal.” The room is quiet with a palpable tension… for a few seconds until the buttons on the crest of Seteth’s gut pop off. Now his face is as red as a tomato. The shock of it all causes him to take a mental step back and look at what he has done. He groans as fullness starts to settle in and he can feel the gradual stretching of his body. He rubs at the crest of his dome of a gut and huffs and burps. The undershirt has risen above his navel. His thighs have squeezed together. The threads of his pants along his rear are soon to bust. He has a second chin hanging forming from neck fat. He is more enormous than the last time.

“I should have known better after the last time you came up on your own. Sorry.” Byleth meekly apologizes.

Seteth struggles to find his words, he settles on, “Can you help me stand up?”

“Of course.” Byleth offers his hands for Seteth to balance himself on. As Seteth bends forward, his moobs bust the top buttons of his shirt and as he stands up a loud rip comes from his posterior. He just sighs and excepts the error of his ways.

For a brief moment Seteth steals a glance at the remaining food and licks his lips. Byleth scolds him. “No more for you, you glutton!” Seteth pouts. Byleth chuckles. He turns his attention to the ruined meal. He takes the chicken parmesan plate, the lighter of the two, and slides the last of the food onto the other platter. He puts the full plate on the empty one and stacks them together with both lids overlapping on top. He turns back to face Seteth who wandered off while he was cleaning up. Seteth was trying to stretch his body, to adjust to the 200 plus and still increasing pounds. All it served to do was treat Byleth to a show of his jiggling features.