Kompera
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Gingerbread House II
🕑 Added 2022-01-30 17:12:22 +0000 UTCNote: This is a story-prompt for imposter_dude.
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Emma stayed an extra day. It turned out being as delightful as the prior one. She lounged around on the squishy, cute furniture, consuming the decadent treats that Annette consistently provided her with. Usually the food servings were way too large, but Emma couldn’t imagine insulting the woman by turning anything away. After all, Annette was so kind to her, and generous. Emma ate everything, even until her belly got uncomfortably tight. It was hardly a hardship. It was all so delicious
Later that afternoon, Annette made a massive lasagna, the majority of which somehow ended up on Emma’s plate. Emma laughed wearily as Annette continuously gave her refills. Emma should have been able to turn it away, but it was all just so tasty, and Annette was just so kind. Emma ate until she was wincing a little, her face flushed and sweaty. She felt fit to burst, but forced down another forkful of the combined pasta, sauce, and gooey layers of cheeses. Then her eyes went wide and she covered her mouth as her stomach gave a forceful heave. She was assailed with a wave of nausea, but the thought of vomiting was unthinkable. It would be humiliating, and just awful, especially after all of Annette’s generosity.
Annette turned away from something she was stirring on the stove. “You okay, hon?”
Emma quickly lowered her hands from her mouth. “Yes,” she managed. “Everything’s great.” She pressed her lips, struggling not to groan. Her stomach ached, insides churning in protest.
“Then finish up,” Annette said. “It’s almost time for dessert.”
Emma had always been bad with establishing boundaries. It was how she, an adult woman, had ended up still living at home, serving as caretaker to her younger siblings. It was why she had been so easily convinced to stay in a strangers' home for one day more than necessary. And it was why, at this present moment, she just couldn’t bear the thought of rejecting Annette’s generosity.
She lifted her fork and took the last three bites of the lasagna, chewing far longer than necessary, but ultimately gulping it down, forcing it into her over-packed stomach. She grimaced and leaned her elbows on the table top, breathing heavily. Oh god. She felt sick. Emma closed her eyes and tried to breathe through it.
Her belly felt so tight. It shuddered slightly. She had exceeded its capacity, her fingers grazing over the taut mound stretching her shirt. A thin sheen of sweat now coated her whole body, her clothing damp. Emma looked at the large, deep lasagna pan on the table, now emptied. It had been enough food for half a dozen people, at least. It occurred to Emma that Annette had only had a small portion herself, really just a taste.
There was a thumping noise that jolted Emma out of her reverie. Emma looked up to see that Annette had lowered a large bowl to the table in front of her.
“I tried to keep dessert simple,” the older woman said brightly. “How does chocolate pudding sound?”
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The pudding had been moussey. Very dense, thick, sweet, creamy, and buttery. Emma didn’t know how she had managed to get it down, but when she was done, she felt so lethargic and dizzy, she could hardly function. She could barely talk for fear that something would burst up from her throat. Her belly was tight and aching, heaving in protest, but somehow Emma managed to keep everything down.
Just standing up was painful, but Emma allowed herself to be urged along by Annette, too uncomfortable and sleepy to think about where they were going. Emma groaned as she was helped to recline across the guest room bed.
“You should get some rest,” Annette said. “You look exhausted.”
Emma gave an indecipherable mumble. She heard the door close, and felt so warm and cozy there snuggled into the soft mattress. Her eyelids sank and she fell asleep.
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Emma awoke to the familiar sounds of birds chirping outside, and the sensation of warmth across her face, prickling but pleasant. It was sunlight.
She opened her eyes and blinked a few times, to realize that she had managed to spend an extra night at Annette’s house. Which wasn’t a big deal. She wouldn’t be missed, as her family would think she was still on her camping trip.
She rubbed her face with a sigh. “What got into me last night?” She shifted, and her attention moved to the unexpected sensation of her abdomen. She slid her hand down, then pulled away her sheets, to marvel at the curve there. She couldn’t believe how much weight she had gained in just a couple of days. Her belly was no longer the tight drum that it had been the night before, but it was quite round and plump, perhaps even larger than it had been following her binge on the lasagna. As a matter fact, Emma thought she could pass as someone who was six months pregnant.
