Kompera
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Gingerbread House VIII
🕑 Added 2022-07-31 15:11:28 +0000 UTCNote: This is a story-prompt for imposter_dude.
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Emma waddled back towards the kitchen, her feet dragging somewhat. She breathed heavily, cheeks pink and forehead damp with sweat. Her pulse was racing, heart pounding in her ears, and she could hardly register anything beyond her swollen state. It contributed to her increasing paranoia. Her eyes would dart to the hallway, then across the living room, fearing that Annette would emerge from some dark corner.
She had to calm down. Emma made it into the kitchen, her hands clasping her huge swell, fingers sinking into the squishy flesh. It was too soft, too unwieldy. She could feel it bounce slightly with her heavy movements. A couple of bites, then she would leave. She just needed to firm up a little and to take the edge off her hunger.
Panting hard, Emma made her way to the counter. She grabbed up the Witch’s cookbook and shoved it back into the cupboard behind some canned goods. Emma then grabbed the remaining muffins there, filling her arms, and hauling them over to the table where she dumped them onto the pile of puffy muffins already there. There were over three dozen, maybe four. The muffins varied in flavor. Emma could spot blueberry, lemon poppy seed, chocolate chip, double chocolate chip, banana nut, apple cinnamon, and some others she didn’t recognize.
Her face twisted in discomfort as her stomach grumbled. Emma gripped the edge of the table as she shifted herself over to a chair, releasing a shuddering breath as she slowly eased herself down. She grunted as her huge swell plopped down against her lap. With shaking fingers, she grabbed up a plump muffin, sinking her teeth right into the top of it. An unexpected pumpkin flavor burst into her mouth, accompanied by a thick buttercream filling. It was greasy, sweet, dense and rich. The icing gushed into her mouth as her eyes closed in pleasure. Emma squished the pastry into her mouth, gobbling it down in only seconds. Then she hastily grabbed up another, even plumper, muffin.
This time it was blueberry. The fruity flavor wasn’t nearly as decadent, but delicious all the same. She moaned as she shoved as much as she could into her mouth, squishing it through, chewing only as much as she had to before forcing it down, her throat bulging to accommodate. She knew that she couldn’t slow down. Emma grabbed another.
She hummed as she ate, tearing into one muffin after the next. She was finally feeling the first hints of satisfaction; the pressure of her stomach being steadily filled out. It just made her eat with more enthusiasm. Emma picked up speed, gorging herself even faster.
Before long, the muffins had been demolished, but Emma needed more. She couldn’t stop. Just the thought of it was unthinkable. She braced her hands against the edge of the table, grunting and straining as her feet fumbled beneath her. As she tried to stand, her belly jabbed against the table edge, causing her to whine out in discomfort. But eventually she was on her feet, chest heaving as she gasped for breath. With purpose, she staggered towards the fridge, pleased to see that it was packed with food containers. There was always something prepped and ready for her to consume.
Emma clumsily grabbed two huge containers, putting one under each arm, before arduously waddling her way back to the kitchen table. She thrusted the containers down against the surface and peeled off the covers. One container was filled with seasoned ground beef, cold and saturated with congealed oil. The fat percentage was obviously very high, and Emma could see pieces of chopped up sausage in the mix.
The other container was packed with grated cheese. Cheddar, mozzarella, and some Mexican varieties. Panting, Emma surveyed the contents of the two containers. It seemed like an easy plan. Combine them.
But Emma couldn’t be bothered. She was too hungry, too desperate to fill herself. She grabbed a handful of the ground beef and greedily stuffed it into her mouth, using her other hand to grab a handful of grated cheese, and stuffing that down as well. She alternated between the ground beef and the cheese, savoring the oil, feeling it melt in her mouth with the flavors of the seasoned meat. She went into a sort of trance, eating mechanically, her left fist and then the right. She felt her belly getting incrementally fuller and tighter, her nightclothes sliding against her as the mound tightened then extended. She filled herself more and more, till her face was flushed with the strain, and it became a true effort, but she continued to eat. The ground beef was even heavier than she had expected, so greasy and filling. The cheese just perfected the meal.
She came out of her reverie only after she had gulped down two large tubs of sour cream she must have gotten in the fridge almost as a belated topping. Emma blinked around. She was covered in food and grease, her belly wedged hard against the underside of the table. She could see the sun was starting to rise in the window. She tried to shake herself out of her food fatigue.
Emma attempted to get up, but her knees felt weak and her thighs quavered. She whined out in her struggle, before slumping back against chair as it creaked in protest of her increased weight. She tried again, gripping hard at the table till her arms were shuddering. She finally managed to push herself off the chair, but yelped as she went toppling to the floor, her belly smacking against the kitchen tiles. She moaned pathetically.
But she had to get out of there before Annette got up. Emma started to crawled towards the door, but her belly outspanned to her knees, and dragged on the floor, the pressure making her gag and belch. She paused and groaned, rubbing the huge swell. Then the lights turned on. Emma looked up to see Annette standing in the kitchen entryway.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Annette said.
