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Patrons' Prompt: Balancing the Scales
🕑 Added 2020-09-17 00:23:23 +0000 UTCThe moon hung high over Rosewaal Manor, a snowy white face in the midnight sky. The manor grounds glistened as fresh dew began to form on the short blades of grass, sparkling with the bright light before being plummeted into a heavy shadow and dashed on the field beneath an even weightier foot.
A young blue-haired girl hurried openly across the manor lawn, as visible as she wished that she weren’t. Even though she managed to step almost silently, there was too much of the girl to ever conceal.
The young girl wore clothes that, only a year ago, she’d have comfortably worn to bed. Now, Rem didn’t wear anything comfortably, especially not these ultra-tight jammies. They had once been baggy, the sweet, light blue almost as bright as her moonlit hair, but now the once-reserved pajamas looked scandalous as they fought a war to contain every ounce of the girl.
A war they had lost almost fifty pounds back. Her dress had had a low-cut neck, which now was stuffed full of cleavage that was as white as the moon. The waistband used to fold over her tummy but presently the roles were reversed, wide and heavy as the young lady was. It could only reach up to the center of her hips, exposing all of Rem’s belly as well as the fleshy top of the girl’s backside.
Her footfall was surprisingly soft for a woman who jiggled like freshly baked cheesecake, but she sacrificed some extra noise for a final burst of speed, focusing on reaching the dark interior of the gazebo with all of the goods she carried tucked to her chest.
She hopped up the step, lumbering on her bare feet towards the opposite edge, hoping beyond hope that nobody was awake in the mansion to see her bare shame. Shame which, ironically, she was set to increase.
Rem quickly distributed the load in her arms onto the bench. An empty glass jug, a jar full of milk, a couple of wrappings, a whisk, and another jar that, even looking at, made Rem’s nose perk up and sniff for any trace.
There was nothing on the air but the sweet scent of newly formed dew.
Tearing her eyes away from the jar, Rem offloaded the final object of her possession onto the ground. She looked back up to the manor, knowing that even in the dark she was liable to be seen, and tugging self-consciously down on her top.
It didn’t budge even an inch.
Rem was fat. She wasn’t curvy, wasn’t shapely. She’d been ‘full-figured’ for all of a day before she got a real look at her sister and made her commitment.
Rem was fat. But she needed to get fatter.
She placed a hand on her tummy, letting her breathing settle back down. She then looked at her hand, her face folding down into a soft double chin when she saw just what had become of her nice slender fingers.
Most of her weight centered in her belly, completely exposed for the moon to enhance with a likened white glow, but no part of Rem had been left untouched by her gain. Her arms drooped with enough fat to fold over her biceps, her wrists looked huge before leading into even fatter hands, and though she could no longer see them properly, her ripped stockings provided more than enough evidence of her doughy-packed cankles swelling up with her waist.
She reached over the curve of her tummy, hardly able to circle her fat arms around her fatter belly, and lifted the weight that had taken over her life.
Rem could still feel all of the food inside of her, the four thousand calories that she’d been sure to consume. She’d nearly forgotten until lights out came and had spent the last hour forcing herself to eat what felt like her weight in gourmet cheese.
A heavy breath in was followed by an even heavier sigh out as Rem’s gut was released, bobbing up and down thrice before coming to a standstill upon which she folded her arms.
It wasn’t fair, really. She wasn’t supposed to be fat. She was supposed to be strong, in the prime of her life. She could feel the horn hidden away by her power, the only proof of her demonic energy beguiling her body with devilish judgement. It took a lot of effort for her to gain five pounds, much less two hundred in such a short span.
But Ram was fat.
Ram, her twin sister, was incorrigibly fat. Having her own horn shattered, the elder twin had no demonic power, but she had every drawback. She was prideful, she was slothful, and she was increasingly gluttonous. The moment that the girls had hit twenty, Ram’s metabolism had hit a stone wall, and all its momentum transformed directly into her weight gain.
She could look at food and gain weight, but that wasn’t enough for her. She just had to eat it too. It seemed that Ram had come to the decision that if she were going to get fat, she was going to make sure she’d enjoy the whole process.
Rem just wished she could as well.
As her breathing calmed, Rem found the willpower to step forward onto the demonic instrument that aided her in her plot. It was hard to see the swirling dial past the curve of her stomach, which was as good a sign as it was bad, but Rem could pick out the tops of the numbers and felt another sigh puff from her stomach.
Three hundred and fifteen pounds.
Eight pounds, that’s all Rem needed. And that’s what she had figured too, what she had hoped for. Eight pounds. That wasn’t too much. She could do this. She could do this.
Rem took a weighty step off of the scale and turned back to the bench.
Even in darkness, the ingredients seemed to glow, taunting Rem as the potion began to take shape in her mind. And as it did, as the phantom of the potion’s scent wafted before her nose, Rem’s full tummy whined with hunger.
She stepped to the bench, taking the empty container that would hold her concoction and putting it in the center. Then she opened the jar of milk, nearly twenty ounces all on its own, and emptied it into the container. Next came the slabs of dark chocolate, another five ounces, and followed by the precisely chopped stick of overweight butter. She took the whisk and began mixing the contents, watching the butter bob up and down and feeling the tension in her middle rise.
Rem didn’t want to open the last jar. But she was resigned to her fate, knew that for Ram to fit in she had to fill out, and so she took the final glass jar in her chubby fingers. Her hand froze when it crept to the lid, her large blue eyes caught as the light of the moon washed over the final ingredient.
She hardly felt her tummy respond, the drool in her mouth beginning to collect. The large solid lumps of milky-brown powder were completely unassuming, even scentless from inside of the glass, but her loud belly rumbled in excitement just as her mind tried to pull away from the sight.
She opened the jar, one of her hands automatically closing over her nose as the toxic scent of absolute sweetness swept through her body with an almost nauseating intoxication. She hated the powder as much as her body had become fixated on it, had grown to love the wonderful curse of compounded calories.
She hurriedly dumped the lumps into her drink, spilling some of the powder on the edge of the glass in her rush but forgoing any cleaning. She needed to whisk them in, break up the little balls. They colored her drink a further shade of brown, a chocolate milk with the viscosity of melted ice cream.
Rem released her nose and felt the roar from her belly as she clutched the large container tightly, knocking her head back and lifting with both hands to slop down the drink.
The powder on the edge got the her taste buds first, tempting a wash of hunger just before the near solid tonic washed around her plump lips and spilled into her mouth. She’d meant to do it quickly, to speed through the act, but the drink gripped her full stomach in both of its arms, and it squeezed her in a loving embrace.
Sweetness, horrible sweetness, began to fill out inside of Rem’s sagging center. Gulp after gulp poured around all of the foods she’d stuffed herself with, searching for any space it could occupy and finding almost nothing before, quite slowly, making more.
Rem’s tummy had already been stretched, but as she drank it crept even further out over her pants, her top creaking to hold back her bloated torso. Her chest was pushed upwards, popping another button free.
Silhouetted by the full moon, Rem drank herself into a maximized bloat, thousands of calories piling on top of what she’d already forced down, and she loved every single second that the drink was on her tongue.
And then, she finished.
She didn’t remember toppling back on her bottom, could hardly comprehend that she was looking up at the roof of the gazebo. Her mind was entirely focused on the feeling in her gut, of the pool sloshing and mixing around while her giddy tummy roared with delighted digestion. Her fat chin was covered with dribbles of the tonic, spilling down what little remained of her neck. She was hardly aware, as her senses were overwhelmed by her gut.
The pressure that the bloating put on her was too much, she’d clearly overdone it, but that’s what she needed. Eight pounds was too much for one day, but Rem needed to do it. She had to match her twin. She needed to be as fat as her sister was.
She felt like she needed to burp but fought the sensation down, putting even more pressure down back into her gut. Rem didn’t burp. It wasn’t lady like.
It took five minutes for her to pull herself into a sitting position, another ten before she could wrap her arms around her gut and lift herself to her feet. All of the weight was just so heavy, she wished it’d just hurry up and distribute. Go to her ass, go to her breasts, but if more weight was added to her stomach then she feared she’d fall over.
She could feel the sticky mess on her face, but the pressure inside her was just making her tired, lulling her to lay down on the bench and just fall into another food coma. She pushed back the sensation, tried to collect the ingredients she’d brought out, and then remembered the devilish scale.
She stepped on top.
The dial turned and displayed the numbers, but Rem couldn’t see anything beneath the curve of her stomach. She took a step back, nearly falling again, before deciding she’d need to clean up in the morning. Nobody would notice a few objects left out, but they couldn’t possibly miss the overweight maid. She needed to get back inside.
Her scamper to the gazebo now looked like a sprint as, leaning back and groaning with effort, Rem plodded across the open lawn. She was panting for breath, her lungs squeezed small by the bloat in her belly. The demonic energy she carried helped push her onward, her high constitution allowing her to grit her teeth and bear the pressure inside.
The steps to the mansion made another air bubble begin to rise up her throat, but again she fought it down, holding a fist over her mouth while her other hand clutched a rail for support. After a moment, she continued her climb, reaching the absolute summit of the ten marble stairs, and lumbered towards the servant exit from which she’d escaped.
Her bed called to her and her tummy answered with a purr, wanting to settle down and enjoy the bounty she’d blessed it with, while her head spun through a series of regretful thoughts.
If only Ram wouldn’t get fat. If only she’d temper herself, or exercise even. Then Rem wouldn’t need to force her-
“Uwwaaaghh…” Rem moaned, silencing the thoughts in her head. “Please… -huuf- be quiet… Just… have to get through… kitchen…”
Talking aloud helped focus her mind on the task and take it off from her sister. Rem loved Ram. That was the whole point, why she suffered through this whole thing. Eight pounds in one day, just to catch up. And she’d done it. She should be proud.
Then why was her stomach sinking so quickly?
As she stepped through the door to the servants’ entrance, Rem came out near the kitchen and pantry. She didn’t have the energy to remember that she had closed the pantry door behind her, but her maid instincts forced her to see that it was now open.
She closed it with her foot, nearly falling over and having to catch herself on the stone wall, her mind returning to what she needed to do.
She needed to get to bed. She needed to wake up early. She needed to go back outside and to clean up her mess, returning the supplies back to the-
“Uurrpp… Oof, excuse me…”
Rem stopped with her hand on the kitchen door. She blinked through the lard that was sabotaging her brain, only now spotting the light from inside.
She opened the door.
The Roswaal kitchen was almost always immaculately clean. The large room had a number of stoves were set against the exterior stone wall, with wooden utensils that had been fixed to hanging points above. In the room’s center were two preparation tables, one of which was currently being used as a seat to an exceptionally plump posterior.
Ram was wearing a pink nightgown that, had one point, reached down to her thighs. It was currently folded up near her love handles, pinched in by the steaming glass bowl of mashed potatoes that the pink-haired girl had perched on her belly. Potatoes so soaked in butter that they were practically yellow.
Using herself as the table, Ram had one hand on the bowl and the other on a large wooden mixing spoon, which was lifted to her lips with a massive sample of her midnight feast.
The glow of the candle made the bright nightgown and her pink hair glow over her soft skin, giving her a porcine impression that matched the cheerful expression on her overweight face.
“Oh, hello Sister,” Ram brightened. “You are up late tonight.”
Rem nearly forgot about the pressure in her tummy. She didn’t know what to say, her eyes trying to absorb the whole scene in front of her, dumbly blinking into the dim candlelight.
Ram returned the stare, shuffling slightly as she brought the buttery potatoes up to her mouth and, opening wide, took a solid chomp off of the top. It became very obvious, beneath the weight of her tummy sagging from her nightgown, that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.
“What are you doing?” Rem asked in a voice that was as small as her belly was big.
Ram tilted her head, chewed her bite thrice before swallowing. Rem could practically see her belly puff out another fat inch. “Eating,” she replied before taking another bite.
“Did you just cook that now?” Rem asked.
Ram nodded. “I’m getting better, I think. It has taken a l-”
“Get off of the table.”
The pink hair girl blinked, caught off guard by her sisters interruption and then again by the ice in her command. “E-excuse me?”
Rem’s hammy hands were shaking. A soft tremble swept through her entire body, redoubling the pain from inside of her belly. She could feel the quiver entering her voice as she whispered, “Get your butt… off of the table.”
Slowly, Ram put the spoon back into her bowl, then rolled forward. Her nightgown unfurled, reaching almost far enough to cover her nudity, but seemed to decide to leave that up to her belly.
Closer to the candle now, Ram’s nightgown looked sheer, exposing every crease and fold in her pale-pink flesh. Rem corrected a previous thought. Her sister was too fat to be porcine.
“I was going to clean up aft-”
Rem stomped forward, tempted to shove her sister but instead ignoring her entirely. She pushed past the small space between Ram’s gut and the table, snatching a cloth and then moving for the sink.
“We make food here!” she growled, more to herself than to her piggish sister. “You can’t just… sit anywhere, and you’re naked!”
“I am not naked,” Ram countered, holding her bowl defensively. “I’m wearing a nightgown.”
Rem marched back to the table before poking Ram’s belly with the cloth. “It doesn’t fit!” her nostrils flared as she spat. She turned back to the table and angrily began scrubbing it, only realizing after that she’d forgotten any soap.
She grunted, slamming the cloth on the table before hip checking Ram on her way past. “… If you’re frustrated, I can share some of my potatoes with you,” the pink girl offered.
Rem ignored her, pouring soap onto the rag and rewetting it. A soft lather later and she moved past her sister to begin wiping down the table.
She nearly screamed when a potato covered spoon entered her vision. Instead she stopped herself and glared as it shook in front of her. “You can have a bite, little sister. I know being hungry makes me crabby too.”
Rem placed the washrag down before turning around.
She stared at Ram with all a brilliant blue fury glimmering from her darkening eyes.
Ram looked up past the storm, focusing on a point of light as a singular horn grew forth from Rem’s hair. She stared, wide eyed, looking back and forth from her sister to the horn. “R-Rem?” she asked before swallowing. “Rem, Rem, what are you-”
Rem’s finger stabbed outward as quick as a flash. She tapped the bowl of potatoes, shattering the glass and sending the buttery pillows down to the floor.
Ram looked down then back up, holding the spoon in a wavering hand as the blue demon took another step closer.
“You are going on a diet,” Rem said, eyes as wide as her face-filling smile. “You are going to be exercising. I will help you.”
Ram’s eyes wavered from her spoon to her sister. “A-are you… Rem, h-have a bite of…”
“And your exercise will start. Right. Now.”
Ram’s cool demeanor melted. Her entire face had turned pink and she was blushing wildly. “R-R-Rem, r-reall-”
The point grew even brighter and the tinkering of chains rattled loudly throughout the entire mansion.
The kitchen door exploded as, spoon still in hand, Ram sprinted from the room, Rem trailing behind her in demonic pursuit. The pink girl squealed as the Morningstar flail embedded itself in the pantry door, shattering it entirely. She turned right, rushing outside with Rem on her heels, crying for mercy beneath the glowing blue moon.
Comments
David Oh
Imagine putting that anime’s death & revival logic, then I guess the girls could save on when they were still thin, and constantly return whenever the loses their slim figure🤣
