Hi everyone, here is the index for The Golden Ratio!
The Straw hats are tricked into a massive dept inside the biggest entertainment city in the world. To make sure they come back to pay, they have to leave Zoro as a prisoner on the island. Zoro is confident his crew will return to save him, but what he doesn't know is that his captor has bigger plans for him.
(This story is written in collaboration with @bee-wg who also did the drawing for this post)
I see Rayleigh seated in the grass, enjoying the early morning breeze.
Taking my rightful seat by his side, my hands entwine with his.
“What’s the plan then?” he asked.
We both looked down at the crumbling town as I replied with a chuckle, “Well, at least get our house back. I'm dying for some private time, you know.”
“That works. But I mean after that,” Ray added.
I look at him puzzled, but reply with, ”Back to normal, Ray. We keep Alph from bombarding visitors with questions, help Mineral and Charlie with the kids, and we kick Veneham’s butt in the next festival.”
He looked back at the city; the towers of the newly renovated buildings rose high into the sky, and the roads buzzed with life as visitors returned.
Ray lets out a sigh and waves himself from the heat. The noon sun shines right over us as he leans on the grass. The shine of sweat and the first strikes of grey hair make him look like a finely preserved wine.
“Of course, Bell. But after that. When the kids grow up, and the town no longer needs us for everything, then what?” he said.
I grab his face with my other hand and let the orange hue of sundown adorn his features as I reply, “Even when nobody else is there to need us, we will always have one another.”
He carefully pushes his fragile body up again. The sunset makes his eyes shine, revealing the pale blue film that covers them, while his silver hair blows with the wind.
His wrinkled hands grip mine as hard as they can. He looked at me with a pained expression, my heart pumped in my chest, and my breath became short and agitated.
With a gentle smile and a raspy voice, he said, “You know what I mean-”
The last rays of sunlight begin to fade in the distance as he coughs and adds.
“When all is said and done.”
“What will you do?”
“When I'm gone.”
Wait, what are you saying? When you are-
The night sky is filled with stars. I turn to my right, and nobody sits beside me. The metropolis that stretches in front of me, as far as the eye can reach, glows with life, but my chest aches with anguish.
The ground below me opens up slowly. I can feel myself sinking, falling, burning up. I should do something, but what's the point? I'm nothing without him.
When I open my eyes, I'm in bed again. Rayleigh is soundly sleeping beside me, and tears run down my cheeks as I wrap my arms around him.
I'm tired of waiting for things to go back to normal. I will reclaim my life and make sure it stays that way, this time forever.
That means taking the reins of my team, once and for all.
“Where do you want me to put these?” Veneham said with a smug grin.
“Just put it by the-“
“Oh, I know, just besides yesterday's order. Come on, everyone,” he replied happily.
He comes with a team of seven of his demons carrying a literal hill of red brick, curated wood, and nails for us to use.
They have moved fast lately, curing everyone in town, producing more material we can use, and even rebuilding the old wood mill to increase production. Mineral is not far behind; his team rebuilds the entire farmland, now focusing on treating the animals for winter.
The constant rewards and acclaim from the townspeople have an obvious effect. Veneham’s muscular body lost most of its definition, leaving a beginner's belly to flash from beneath his vest; his chest starts to flesh out, and his arms thicken with a layer of fat. The rest of the demons in town might not be growing at his rate, but by all hell, they try.
And while his team got all the love from the humans, mine was even more isolated. They start to see their appetites grow with Rothwell's delectable food, so they try to, ugh, diet.
Just the thought makes me sick.
Of course, the humans saw it as an insult, which only increased their mistrust of them. It’s almost as if they thought that the enmity of the townsfolk would help them to keep their waistline under control. But nothing changes their slow waddle into fatass territory.
My team felt more convinced they could overeat as long as they didn't eat more than the colosseum champion. After all, he was so puny compared to the rest of us; the power of perception is incredible.
To say their morale was on the floor would be an understatement. I don't have to turn around to feel their dead stares as Veneham flaunts his team’s strength.
“Oof, do you guys need a hand? You could use a break for some snack, everyone here looks rather famished,” A demon that looked like a minotaur descendant, with grey fur and thick horns, said.
His friends laughed while putting down their materials
“Sip it, Fitz, we can do just as good as you and the horde of fatasses,” Hagen shouted from afar.
“Prove it then, I can carry twice as much as you, right here, right now,” Fitz said with a confident smile.
“I’ll show you who's the boss!” Hagen growled.
He was ready to pounce when Alcor got in the way.
“You need a repeat of last week? We are still working to repair the damage you caused when you tried to show them who is boss. Stay still!” he said.
“We are thankful for your help, darling, but we shall pass the opportunity this time,” Alcor shouted back to Fitz.
They laugh, while Veneham got closer to me.
“Are you sure you can manage this? they don't seem to be advancing that much. It's not your fault they can't keep up with the winner of the eating challenge,” Veneham said teasingly.
“You didn't win shit, you ran off before we could finish,” I replied.
“Says the guy without a single ribbon,” he teased back.
“This year I will sweep the floor with you,” I said
“You wish, I can eat three times your weight in food,” he replied
The rest of the site stayed deadly still as we argued.
“Fine, suit yourself with the work. Come on, guys, I invite the rounds tonight!” Veneham said, followed by the cheers of his team.
“Okay, that does it, get here, everyone!” I shouted.
Everyone looks at me, studying my next move as they make a circle around me.
“Aren't you tired of being everyone's laughing stock? To see every other demon in this town get the cheers of the crowd? I thought that we were a proud and eager kind, ready to take what was rightfully ours! We were all summoned on equal footing, so why can't we all do just as well as them?” I shouted.
“We are the proud spawn of hell, Belfort. We just doubt earthling’s methods,” Alioth said, standing strong in front of me.
“You haven’t even given them a chance. You all resign to victory the moment you set foot in here,” I replied.
“You can’t expect us to just go down the route of hedonism and forget years of hard work. Demons strive for strength, not whatever you and your friends are doing here,” Zigurd added.
“Because you all are the epitome of strength, uh? Every demon in Mineral or Veneham’s camps could snap you all in half,” I replied.
Zigurd was fuming at the comment. I flash him a grin and continue, “Everyone in Rothwell strives for strength; this realm requires it. Those humans with their short lives and fragile bodies have survived Djinn attacks, plagues, starvation, fires, and a flash flood. None of you has the right to look down on them.”
“I heard a tale of heroism like that from the humans. A great evil attacked them in their time of joy, and Veneham came to defeat him, with a single hand and fried vegetables.” Alcor said.
“Veneham wasn't alone that day. We subdue a hell bison, put out the fire, and help that egotistical asshole to finish the job with the Djinn. Or you think he ended up that fragile and flimsy out of his own volition?” I said.
“Wait, you don't mean-” Hagen asked.
“He was just as big as us, well, smaller than me, of course. We all followed the same training regimen. Sol, for any of you still doubting it, this is what strength looks like,” I said proudly.
The crowd of demons still hesitates, muttering amongst themselves.
With the wave of my hand, the water from the river gushes out like a geyser. It flies into the sky and comes raining down on the entire worksite. Added a snap of my fingers, and all the water drops freeze in place midair.
“Any doubts? rookies,” I said.
Alioth's eyes were wide open, but quickly relaxed as the demons around asked how I was able to do such a thing.
“Unlike some of you, I don't reject the nature of our kind. We are demons for fuck sake. We should eat, fuck, and laze around as much as we please. And our bodies react to those cravings, the more we say yes to ourselves, the stronger our skills become!” I said.
Most of them looked marveled at such a revelation. But there are also some hesitant gazes.
“I know some of you feel like this is a hindrance,” I said, patting my belly.
Some look at their softening bodies with disdain, others with indifference, and a few with the same longing eyes I had.
“But let me ask you, don't you feel a thrill run down your spine when you defeat someone in a bloody battle? And felt a rush, like you could defeat anyone in your way with a blow?” I asked.
They agree, some of them sharing their experience in battle.
“In hell, we dumbly focus on one sin for power; it was wrath, pride, or even envy. Here, we can absorb the power from all the other sins: lust, gluttony, greed, and sloth.”
They whisper amongst each other, glances being taken of my form.
“What about wrath?” a demon with red feathers on his skin and a lion's head said.
“You can only fight so many times before it gets boring. Compare that to the torrential loads of food Rothwell has?” I said.
“You can waste away with diets and sparing, let every other demon here to take your spot and be sent back to hell. Or follow your deepest desires and become a force to be reckoned with!” I added.
Some demons hesitated; I could see in the corner of my eye a couple stepping aside. Zigurd was about to leave, but Alioth gave him a stern look, and the soldier stayed in place.
“For starters, we have to lay some ground rules,” I said.
Rule number. 1:
You will help humans with anything they need.
And if they give an offering, you must accept it no matter what.
“Thanks for your help, dear. I couldn’t carry all of my husband’s groceries without some help. You know what, I have some scones here that I'm sure you'll love,” an old lady said.
“We just had lunch-” Hagen said, looking at his overstretched middle.
The humans gave us everything they had after the flood, their own food and work as a sign of gratitude. Take it with pride, and it is a sign of respect. If you lack the fortitude to accept them, then you are weaker than the other demons in town, even less than the other humans visiting the area.
“But how can I say no to it?” he added with a sigh.
“That’s the spirit, sweetie, you know what I will send you back with a cake I did last night, you deserve it,” she replied.
Rule number. 2:
You will make each other accountable.
“I can’t stomach another bite,” Zigurd said.
“Oh come on, you haven’t had enough buzz, Zig,” the owner of the inn said, offering a barrel of beer.
“Why would I drink a full barrel?” he said through gritted teeth.
“Who drinks less than that?” One of Mineral’s teammates said, before grabbing a barrel himself and chugging.
“What are you waiting for, soldier? If I can stomach it, so can you,” Alitoh said.
The giant demon grabbed a barrel himself and balanced it over his head, drinking in quick, desperate gulps. His stomach pushes forward, inching over his lap with each gulp. Zigurd looks in awe as the general finishes, throws the barrel aside, and belches unfazed.
Zigurd grimaced, his stomach grumbling under the assault of food, but took the barrel and gave a strained smile at the inn owner.
The tavern cheer as they gulp, with other patrons offering to buy them more for their enthusiasm.
Rule number. 3:
You will use your demon skills as much as you-
“Wait, what if we don't have demon skills awakened then?” a tall demon with the sides of his head shaved, with white and black feathers, said.
“Good question, how many of you are still unable to use your demon skills?” I asked.
Some raised their hands, but I imagine there is more to it than meets the eye.
“Did you find your skill here?” another demon asked.
“No, I awaken my skill back in Samoa. Voyaging around the Pacific was what my body needed to awaken this power, but it wasn't until Rothweel that I realized it. So, for any of you who haven't awakened your demon skills. Meet me up in private, and I’ll ensure to awaken your power!” I shouted.
The horde of demons resonated with that more, shouting and howling at the top of their lungs.
“For the rest of you, I want to see those skills at work starting today,” I added.
Of course, I cannot let them work without improving myself. The same night I had that nightmare, I made arrangements with Ray.
We waited until everyone went to bed after dinner. Once the coast was clear, I led him deep into the woods, right by a clearing with a wide pond.
“Okay, Mr. Mystery, what is the surprise you have for me?” Rayleigh said.
“Oh, you will like it, don't worry,” I replied.
I unveil a four-level trolley filled with treats, courtesy of Zackary, and Ray just gasps in delight.
“I know we haven't had that much time for ourselves lately, but we can't skip on training any further I said, stepping closer to him.
“Oh, I didn't imagine you wanted to explore the woods while we trained,” he said, shrinking the gap between our bodies.
“I hope you don't mind?” I said with a grin.
“It's oddly exciting, actually. Now get this party started, I could do with some dessert to tide me over after that walk,” He said.
He fell to the soft ground with a loud thud. My tongue tastes his skin from his belly button all the way to his double chin, leaving a bite in the tender flesh.
Both our dicks throb hidden under mountains of fat, with every touch and jiggle stimulating them. Sex at this size is like nothing else. Even as we walked here, I could feel my dick spew pre in excitement, but now I can feel the constant flow of liquid as we bounce off each other.
My hands grabbed the fold that spread under his moobs, teasing his expanding nipples until they were engorged. My hands stretched to feed him a slice of berry cake while my mouth was busy suckling on his ample breast.
He takes a handful of chicken and shoves it in my mouth while rubbing my sides. And I moan over the taste of the juicy meat.
He feeds me mashed potatoes, and I bite his neck.
I feed him steak, and he teases my tip.
He melts under my touch as I lie on top of him, my body covering him perfectly.
“We are perfectly sized for each other,” I said between mouthfuls of buttered veggies.
“Bell, feed me more. I'm so full…But I still need more,” he said, his eyes filled with desire.
“You are my perfect half, Ray. I will make sure we both become unstoppable,” I said.
A current of power rushes through me; I can feel the pond beside us as an extension of me, just like that day. I follow my gut, and with a wave of my hand, I call forth the water.
The water tendrils rose slowly, they took the shape of my hands, massaging Ray’s body and running their fingers over his skin like a current.
“This is new,” he said eagerly.
“And it's only the beginning, darling,” I said with a grin.
The tentacles move Ray around, hanging him over the floor in all fours. His belly drags across the floor, and his tits jiggle with the sudden movement, but all I hear are his needy whimpers.
“Come on, man, I need it. " It's been too long,” Ray said.
My belly flopped on top of his back like a shelf, and I started to maneuver to get my dick inside. At this point, we struggle to find that position where we can connect, but as our bodies crash, our excitement only grows. My belly engulfs his back fat, but I can feel it moving like the waves in the sea under all my flesh.
Finally, my dick feels his hole, and I can feel it pulse as I enter him inch by inch.
His moans flood the forest around us, and I get the water to push a batch of scones to his face. Like a pig in his trough, he starts to eat mindlessly. Fuck, I love to see him like this.
I can feel the jiggle of his body and the tenderness of his skin under the water’s touch, the fingers entering him and the ones teasing his buried cock.
As I pound him, the same group of hands teased me; they pinched my nipples and shook my gut while handfuls of turkey entered my mouth. The heat inside us grows as I explore more of his heft with one hand and feed him with the other.
I continue to rock back and forth, feeling our worlds collide, every roll and fold rubbing against each other until we blow. But I crave more, oh so much more of it.
The food in the trolley banishes from our mouths faster than I anticipated, and soon we are both panting from our stuffed guts. A chorus of whimpers, moans, and belches echoes through the desolated woods.
But my belly still rumbles greedily, knowing the crown jewel still awaits us in the trolley. A mix of buttermilk, spices, cream, rum, and fruit, all thickened with flour and butter, for the most decadent drink I have tasted in my life.
But the best thing is that its water content lets me control it just like the pond. The jar shakes as a tendril of thick liquid stretches from it, flowing into our mouths in a constant stream.
I can feel the sweet concoction coat my throat as it goes down with ease; the thick liquid coats every corner, fills every empty gap left in our stomachs.
My eyes fixate on Ray’s growing middle, as if he grew with every needy gulp he makes. When he opens his eyes to see me, his grin tells me I must look just as delectable.
The stimulation of my hands, the feeling of tending to Ray’s huge gut, and the almost endless cream filling my insides put me into a state of ecstasy I haven’t matched since heaven’s times.
Finally, we both reach our limit, moaning loudly and spewing a tidal wave of cum. The jar is empty, and we both have had our fill, so we lie on the ground side by side, letting the food settle for a moment.
“That was great,” he said.
“I want to use my powers more in our sessions, you know, as practice. Did you like it?” I said, knowing dam well he loves it.
He leaned on me and kissed me before saying, “I hope you are ready for another session tomorrow.”
And oh, how we practiced, every night was a delight. Weirdly enough, I could feel myself getting more control over my skills as the days passed. I could lift him over my dick and fuck him without moving a muscle, or summon a water bed to mess on top of.
Enjoying our growing bodies has never been more fun and waaay less exhausting.
The lack of movement does wonder for my gains as well, the few reinforced chairs around town, start to squeal under my weight and the normal ones are not even an option. My belly continues to fall further down making walking a hassle, and my neck pads up making it hard to turn around quickly, but in my current line of work is not like I need to make quick movements anymore.
The sessions sparked an idea in my head. Veneham’s methods have worked for a long while, but I can tell they have their limits. I need to make a new strategy to improve, and if the energy boost I feel with Ray is anything to go by, this might just be it.
Rayleigh finished the last blueprint for the improved town, and with his newfound free time, I enlisted him to help. He comes with a massive cart filled to the brim with food courtesy of Zackary and gives a proper recharge to every demon he sees. If you are not doing anything, you might as well eat right?
My team uses their abilities while they work. A shark-like demon uses a skill over magnetism to shoot the nails into the floorboards. A demon with a thousand eyes opens portals between the first and third floor to transport materials, and Alcor flaps his wings, sending demons flying upstairs with a strong current of wind.
But the real training begins after work.
“You will pair up and help your teammate grow. Everything there is in your world is the person in front of you and their capacity,” I said.
Alcor sat in front of the shark demon, who remained stoic as the raven brought a piece of cake to his huge maw. His partner opened the cake and bit down on it in a single gulp before reaching for a full turkey and offering it to Alcor.
“This is going to be a lot, isn’t it?” the raven said nervously.
Only getting a nod from the shark.
A demon with a thousand eye tattoos adorning his skin opens portals to send food from the table straight to Alioth’s open mouth. At the same time, Alioth used his control of rocks and minerals to make the silverware fly up and stuff his partner.
Hagen and Zigurd refuse to join us, but I don't worry. Demons are mischievous creatures, and if there is anything that we like more than competing with one another, it is fucking with each other.
They will make sure those two keep up one way or another.
“Hey, Mr. Monroy, don’t you need some help with those blocks of salt? Zigurd is free; he could help you out,” Hagen shouted.
The massive baker waved for the demon’s help with a wide smile. With Hagen’s group of friends laughing at the prank.
“What is wrong with you, old mut? I'm still stuffed from lunch,” Zigurd said.
“Hey man, I'm just worried about your progress. Thank me later,” he said with a laugh.
The humans were happy to see them engage more, but they also quickly caught up to their playfulness.
“Hagen darling, I just came up with this new catalog of recipes, and I would appreciate those three heads of you for some reviews,” a cook said.
“Oh, I need someone to help me load up my carriage.”
“I heard they need someone to help seal a hole in one of the tanks at the brewery.”
“And I need someone to fix up my roof.”
Before long, a crowd had formed around Hagen and his friends, who sighed before getting to work.
The days passed with them slowly but surely submerging themselves into the townsfolk's culture, one job at a time.
“It's good practice to stay and have another serving while everyone on the table is still eating,” Ray said, handing Alcor a plate.
“But, I'm pretty full, my honest man,” the raven said.
Alcor’s belly starts to press against the table as he tries to leave, but Ray presses his bulk against the back of the chair. The raven demon’s talons are the only part of him unaffected by his growing body, so as he pushes back, he only manages to sink more into my man’s bulk.
Ray lets out a belch and adds, “Oh, you are good with that, but I would stop and get back to your meal, you don't want it to get cold.”
The more he stares at the food, the more it assaults his senses, the decadent scent of the still sizzling meat, its intoxicating.
His stretched gut rumbles lazily as drool fills his mouth. Finally, his plump wings reach out for a piece of venison and fill his beak greedily.
Hagen’s three heads laugh at the scene, unaware that his hands reach for another basket of scones. His head has started to mash together with the added neck fat, just enough to make him seem less intimidating, something that makes him boil with anger.
“And we always finish with dessert, it helps you settle your stomach,” I said, passing a basket of bread pudding to Alioth.
He remains stoic as he grabs it and eats unflicnhingly. His grey fur hides the fading definition of his muscles, but his thicker neck and cheeks can't hide the reality of his growing frame.
Besides him, Zigurd tries not to attract attention, fearful of an offering.
“It's customary here to share recommendations, right?” Alioth added.
“Oh sure, if you know of a good spot to fill up, you have to share,” Ray replied.
“Then eat some of the bread as well, soldier, I can’t be the only one to enjoy this bounty,” Alioth said.
“But, sir, I-” Zigurd said, taking the huge tray of berry pudding his general offered.
The tray was classified with his how armor without spilling a drop.
Even under the metal plates of his armor, you can see changes; the thin, sharp features in his complexion fill out, giving him a more blunt appearance, almost as if the metal deforms under the pressure from within.
I continued to use my skills at night and at the work site, and my abilities improved rapidly. I know how much water something needs for my powers to work. Drinks and sauces are a good to go, but anything drier than a piece of cake is out of the question.
The skills of my team improve as they grow, making work move faster, and in no time, we have the first house ready to show off.
Something sniffs at my leg, and I notice bacon munching at my pants.
“Hey, boy, what do you have for me?”
Veneham has been using his pet as the de facto delivery system here, and even with the constant construction, he remains reliable.
I take the letter he keeps in a pouch around his pink body and the oinks happily. As I’m about to read, the pig pulls at my leg again.
“Okay, I know,” I said, giving the little extortionist his pay of berry scones.
Like owner, like pet it seems.
The letter is a fancy invitation from Wilkin for everyone in town. Apparently, he is organizing a housewarming for the first habitable home in Rotwell, followed by a massive BBQ. Wow, the man is fast.
------------------------------------------------
“The first floor of every house is an open space capable of being used as a kitchen, studio, or craft store, depending on the owner, with reinforced flooring and furniture for our strongest neighbors. A durable patio roof to place chairs outside in case of extra clients, and sturdy rock stairs for the second and third floors,” Wilkin said proudly.
At the mention of stairs, many humans deflated. With everyone in Rothwell getting bigger, it has become harder for them to waddle their way around town without a refreshment, let alone to use traditional stairs.
When I saw them on the blueprints, I thought they would add a charging station in the middle of the house, just in case.
Instead, they came up with the unthinkable.
“I know what you are thinking, and I'm not cruel enough to make you walk all the way to the third floor! I present to you the lift,” he said, pressing a panel by the entrance.
From the ceiling came a panel the size of a carriage hold by a reinforced chain. A group of portly humans steps into it by Wilkin’s request, and with another push of the wall panel, they rise to the second floor.
The intricate system of pulleys and counterweights was a miracle of ingenuity, which, of course, was a bithc to build, but seeing everyone's shocked expressions made it worth it.
While everyone marveled at the ingenuity of the houses, the plane that separated Wilkin’s home from the town, filled with humans and demons alike, had been there since early morning, all of them getting ready for a feast of meat.
Mineral cooked by the fire with Charlie and the boys.
“Let me fan the flames for a bit,” Eliah said.
“No, I want to fan them,” David added.
As they grew older, the brothers only got more competitive with one another; I wonder if we are rubbing off on them.
“Why don't you two go to the back of the house with Alph and bring more wood?” Charlie said with a smile.
Alph was drinking a cold mead with Ray and me until he saw Charlie’s demanding stare.
“Duty calls,” Alph said, getting back up.
We moved close to the fire as Wilkin and Veneham joined us.
“The new guys are fooling around by the field. Hopefully, they can tire themselves out. We could do with some time for ourselves,” Wilkin said.
“I don't know, man. It seems like Veneham, and you are getting plenty of time to fool around,” Charlie added.
Wilkin blushed as he waved his friend away. We all noticed Wilkin’s thin frame was finally putting on some meat. His fragile arms flesh out, his beginner belly barely showing under his shirt, and his trousers stretched over his widening hips.
“I don't know what you are talking about. I'm the same as always.” Wilkin replied.
“Suuure, and all this extra Wilkin was always there,” Ray added, poking at his growing sides.
He is ticklish, laughing at the touch. But quickly trying to act serious, with a bothered face.
“Okay, we might be testing some training techniques before offering them to the group, of course,” he said.
Veneham beams with pride as we laughed it off.
Charlie wraps his arm around Wilking’s shoulder and says, “There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Will.”
“This is just a testament to the bond with your partner,” Charlie added, patting his belly.
Mineral turns around and winks at him with a cheeky grin before handing him the first steak of the evening.
“The first one? Someone wants a price later tonight,” Charlie said, taking his plate.
Even Charlie has continued to put on considerable weight. His belly drops over at least a foot over his waistline, his legs rub against each other as he waddles for his food, and his double chin shakes with every ravenous bite of juicy meat.
“Aren’t those Veneham’s guys?” Ray said, pointing at the field.
A sort of rivalry between our groups started a while back, but it grew in scale after my team began training for real. With their results so noticeable, they became the center of attention for challenges.
“It's good to see- you guys finally- understood the source of- true strength,” A demon from Venehams team said to Hagen and his friends.
He looks like a bundle of shadows wrapped in a black cloth that fitted him two sizes ago.
“Yeah, it’s just a shame they can’t keep up with us, but it's to be expected having Veneham as our leader,” Fitz said.
“Okay, cow head, you, me, here and now,” Hagen said.
Hagen’s new body looked imposing with the added fat, his giant stature casting a huge shadow under the new love handles and the belly that now hung a couple of inches in front of him.
His friends cheered from behind as Fitz got into position. Mineral had to deal with Veneham’s competitive strike before, and he suggested that they resolve their disputes as they used to do in his last summoning.
Veneham came back right as the two demons stood in front of each other.
“Oh, right, I'm not missing the action! Go Fitz, you better win this!” Veneham said.
The townsfolk and the other demons notice the commotion and crowd them. The chants for their names drowned the field; even Wilkin and Charlie could hear the cheers all the way here.
At the signal of Alcor, they clashed into each other like a couple of bulls. They grabbed onto each other's flimsy clothes and fat rolls. Trying desperately to push the other one off their feet. They start to huff for air as the battle rages on, with sweat rolling down their faces.
Finally, Fitz takes a strong step forward, and Hagen makes a feint to the side. Making Fitz lose his balance and fall to the floor.
Of course, Veneham is teaching them how to fight, but no one knows his tactics better than I do. So I trained my guys in the perfect counter to him:
Be ready for a straight front attack.
know your weight and use it against them.
My team howled loudly with the human crowd while Fitz and his friends went away.
“Maybe Belfort was right, there must be something to this thing,” Alcor said to Hagen.
“Ooor, the last heir of the Cerberus house reclaims his rightful place at the top. Their last few wins were just lucky shots, you know?” Hagen replied proudly.
“Sure, but just in case, let’s keep up with the training,” his friend replied.
“Okay, let’s get back to the fire. We can’t let that meat burn,” Mineral said.
My eyes stayed on Hagen, even after winning for the first time in a month; the joy left his eyes quickly.
“I told you to stay away from my pyre!” Mineral said, racing back to Veneham.
Veneham was eating the still-red meat from the fire with a delighted expression.
I saw his back banish in between the trees when nobody noticed.
The townsfolk rejoice with every new home that gets finished, and they show their gratitude with tons of food. Ray spends most of his day bringing the carts full of offerings back and forth, happily giving them out.
“Hey, no need to move from there, I will pass you what you want. The fried dough? How much, just kidding, I know you really need it all.”
“Oh, you finished for the day? Help me get rid of these roasted chestnuts. I have a full sack of them, and it would be a shame to dump them. Besides, don’t you have a big sweet tooth?”
“Don't you have metal powers? Just summon more iron from the ground. There is no need to walk all the way across the site for more.”
“I think you found your true calling in life,” I said as he brought me more pastries.
“I’m starting to see what everyone in town likes about this. There is something exhilarating about helping them see things our way,” he replied.
“As long as you help me the most, I don’t mind,” I reply, stuffing him with a pastry.
Of course, their appetites only increased with the influx of food, and the once reluctant demons started to crave more and more of their treats.
“Ey, there is this place doing deep-fried cake slices, wanna come?” Alcor said.
“Just a slice? Boring, let's see if they will fry a whole cake for us,” his friend replied.
Their bodies expanded, finally listening to their desires. Bellies pull forward, shoulders broaden, and legs thicken up.
“Darling, you are finally looking healthier,” A woman said.
“Oh, it’s only our duty, Madam,” Alioth said.
Alioth's fuller cheeks make his fangs and horns stand out as the only sharp features in his physique. The patch of black fur on his neck bunches up, pushed by his second chin and ever-sinking neck. His chest inflated like perky balls of flesh, so big they can’t be held in a single hand. His belly doesn't push forward as much, but it compensates by bulging out to his sides, giving him a wide look that could blind any human in front of him.
“It's a shame some of your teammates are still struggling so much,” the woman said, looking at Zigurd.
His metal armor continues to bunch outward, with his love handles and overhang starting to be weighed down. The metal bends and curves as if fire had melted it into that shape from the get-go. His arms look like stuffed sausages fighting with his expanding moobs for space.
“Don’t worry, madam, we are all helping them catch up. But thanks for your worries,” Alioth replies.
I start to worry about Zigurd and Hagen; as time passes, they become the only two unable to join the rest of the group for training. Alcor has tried to speak to his friend plenty of times, and Alioth seems determined to keep his soldier in shape, yet they refuse to speak.
If we finish the repairs and they stick to this bad rep, they might be the only demons sent back. For a while, I try to let it go; if they want to self-sabotage, so be it.
But one night, I had the same nightmare as a couple of months ago. This time, as I sink into the earth, I see hell. After a year and some change, I can see the same lava pit that we came from, and the sight stuns me like never before.
No clear skies, no warmth of the sun, or the green of the grass, just oppressive, lonely hell. I can’t in good conscience let them fail and go back to that.
That morning, I went to the site determined to convince both demons to join us.
“I’m telling you people, they are setting us up,” a demon from Veneham’s group said.
His stubby horns and draconic body adorned with metal plates pop out in my group. The rest of his team walks away from the worksite, since they have finished their delivery for the day.
“Don’t be so dramatic, they have told us everything we need to know,” Alcor said.
“Hey, let’s hear what he has to say,” Hagen replied.
“A few nights ago, a couple of demons and I went to the woods for those reunions,” Kaiser said.
The group looks at each other knowingly, and Alcor sighs in exasperation. What reunions?
“It was very late, so nobody should be out, but from the greenery, we spotted Alph pulling a cart filled to the brim with food. He was going deeper into the woods, so I left Alioth and the rest to train while following Alph down. Eventually, we made it to a lonely house almost at the other end of the woods. Alph pushed the cart inside and-” Kaiser said.
“Come on, man, cut to the chase!” Zigurd said, shaking Kaiser up.
“Alph was feeding all of that food to a single demon. The thing was the size of a room and made of pure lard. We saw him feed that thing plate after plate. The demon just sat there eating giddily while Alph chatted with him. And once the food ran out, he took his cart and left. You know what that means?” Kaiser said.
Nobody said a word. So he replied, “They are waiting for us to get that big, and once we can't move. They will put us into little cabins in the woods, all we're going to do is eat and eat.”
“You found the Djinn they defeated?!” Hagen said incredulously.
“Even after what he did, Belfort and the rest spared his life. How honorable,” Alcor added.
“Everyone in town forgave him after that? No wonder they are so welcoming to us,” A demon with long horns and wooden skin said
“We were so lucky to be summoned here,” someone else replied.
As the group of demons chatted over the story, Kaiser quietly walked away with an expression of panic on his face. But my attention was drawn to Hagen, who rushed to the woods.
What is he planning to do? I waddle my way behind him as fast as I can. He runs for a while until he finally stops in a clearing and falls to his knees. I stop leaning on a tree, huffing for air, my weight made the tree groan, and Hagen turns to me.
“What do you want?” He said bitterly.
“I could ask you the same,” I replied.
“Save me the act, you are just as selfish as any of us. Cut the sanctimonious crap and leave,” he said, turning his back on me.
“I’m not going to act and pretend as if I don't benefit from this. If you all get stronger, I get what I want faster, my home, my life in paradise, my safe and secure future,” I said.
The growls at the comment, still avoiding my eyes.
“But I can’t ignore that I see some of myself in all of you,” I added.
“I’m nothing like you! You can’t begin to understand any of our struggles from your perfect pedestal. You and your friends had no lives before, no expectations, no goals beyond your mundane lives in hell. With the one exception of that lousy colosseum champion,” he said.
One of his heads contorted with anger, huffing for air, agitated, while another tried to hold back the tears that welled in his eyes. With the center one screaming at me still, his eyes glassy with despair.
“His miserable ass came to the coliseum, defeated everyone at sight, even my father, and after screwing us all over, he just retired. And while he sat on his ass in hell or ate like a pig here, some of us had missions to fulfill, a legacy to uplift!” He said.
“You can still have a legacy, defeat him in the one battle he still wants to have here. It doesn’t need to be a bloody fight in the colosseum. Hagen, you have grown a lot since you arrived. Your friends look up to you. Why force yourself to stick to the old ways of doing things?”
“Because if this was always an option, if my powers could have awoken millennia ago by just sitting on my ass and eating, then all of this suffering, training, and slaving away was for nothing!” he shouted.
He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, showing his body; the sweat from the run dripped down his belly, pooling on his overhang.
While Alioth is perky and wide, Hagen is soft and even out. His belly is as wide as it is thick at the front with an overhang that rests half a foot over his waistband. But his most prominent feature is his chest. The two slabs of meat rest heavily over his belly with the nipples growing to the size of salamis.
“I’ve worked my ass off to make my family proud as a Cerberus, to throw it all away for a semi-decent meal. If this shit doesn’t work, how can I go back to hell like this?” he shouted angrily.
“Then make it work, you heard the rules. If you grow as big as me, we’ll let you stay,” I said, stepping forward.
He looked at me with angry eyes, determined to stay unyielding.
“I was like you, chasing a dream, trying to become something I’m not. And Rothwell showed me there was so much more I could be. You can do the same,” I added, taking another step.
My belly pushed into him, but he stayed strong on his feet. My body is a couple of inches taller than his, fully obscuring the view of anything ahead of him. His breathing turned agitated, and for a moment I thought he would push me aside, but he stayed immobile.
“Bring back a victory that trophy, that not even your father or his father could take from the heavens. Life on Earth! And when they come, because believe me, this is a flame that can’t be turned off anymore, they will see you as a hero,” I said.
His eyes turn red, and I see tears fall as he looks away.
“I do- I want this in a way. But how can you give up on everything you were before, so easily?” he said.
“Nobody said it was easy, but it will be once you accept what you truly want. If you let me help you, I promise you won't regret it,” I replied.
He looked at me, his left head still looking scared, gritting his teeth. The right one looked sadder, almost grieving his old self. But I kept my focus on the middle one. His eyes burned with determination as he reached for my hand.
“You'd better make this work,” he said.
Before we made it back to work, I asked, “What do you know of Alioth’s meetings?”
Hagen looked puzzled; he may not know what I am talking about.
“Oh, we all assumed you knew of them. Months ago, we all got together to train at night. You know to prevent this,” he said, pointing at his belly.
He looked absolutely defeated, looking down at his heavy belly. I’ll make sure to change that expression in due time.
“Most of the group left when the training began, and I left when Alioth started to spout about Lucifer’s return and such,” he said.
Lucifer’s return? Just what in all of hell is happening here?
Hagen continued explaining the situation, and as we made our way back to work, I started to plan how to tackle this issue.
That night, I planned to camp out until Alioth and his group showed up. I explained the plan to Ray, and he offered to make me company as I waited. Of course, we ate and fucked until we both saw white. For a second, I almost heard heaven’s bells, but I doubt they ring for dry orgasms.
The hours passed, and nothing happened. Ray eventually fell asleep while I rubbed his belly. I remained there under the moonlight waiting. It was closer to sunrise than midnight when I finally saw their lantern.
Massive bodies slowly make their way to a patch of woods damaged as if by an asteroid.
I looked quietly as Alioth pulled metal from the ground and punched the dirt, making the crater he stood by even deeper.
By the trees, Zigurd punched trees down with small, concentrated punches. They were so deliberate and precise that it was almost as if a saw cut through the wood.
After he took down another tree, he groaned in anguish. Alioth comes to him, the ground pushing his feet forward almost as if hovering over it.
“What's the matter now, boy?” The general said.
“This is not working, sir. It's been months, and we haven't found it yet. What am I doing wrong?” Zigurd said.
“You are getting distracted from your mission, lad. Your purpose is not to find your demon skill but to reclaim Earth. And the more you get stuck on your own way, the further away you will be from the finish line. Now go back to work,” Alioth said in a dry, looming tone.
“Bullshit!” I shouted.
I make my way towards them as I add, “You know why you haven’t found your demon skill? because you keep fooling around at the crack of dawn, instead of doing as I say.”
The soldier stood strong in front of his general, almost ready to pounce at me.
“You know the pact you made prevents you from doing something stupid, Zigurd, so unless you want a one-way ticket to hell. I would cool down,” I said.
He relaxes, looking away angrily but staying right in front of Alioth.
“And you! What do you think you are doing here?” I said, pointing at the general.
“We are doing what we were meant to do from the get-go,” Alioth said.
“ A public pool? We have a river. This is just trying too hard,” I replied.
“A way to get our army back, you moron!” he shouted angrily.
His sudden outburst takes me aback; his scream was so loud the birds woke up and flew away in fear. But I stayed still, there is nothing he can do to harm me or anyone, just himself.
“You have any idea how much I’ve been biting my own tongue as the four of you wasted the triumph card to our war and just decided to waste it? What happened to the coliseum warrior, to the proud engineer of the seas, and the protector of the woods?” Alioth said.
Why does he know of my old work?
“We thought we lost paradise forever, general, then we found it here. There is no point in risking the best thing we ever had since heaven, for a war that's been lost for millennia,” I said.
“You think those humans will just sit back and let us live among them forever?” He said.
His voice became erratic as he continued, “Once their lives are perfect, they will dispose of us as any other summoner has done through time.”
“You have seen it by yourselves, this people are not like other summoners. They have accepted us as their neighbors and friends. If they were looking to just dispose of us, why not after the festival? We had a demon blast through their homes, and still they allowed us to summon your asses here,” I replied.
Zigurd looked at me, doubt settling in his face.
“They are so forgiving, they have allowed the Djinn to live here, Alph is feeding him to awaken his skills so maybe one day he can stand back up, move with us, and live among the rest of the town,” I said.
“Oh, please, the same Djinn who set the place on fire will just waltz its way back and sing with everyone. Not even the heavens are that forgiving, and we know it by experience,” Alioth said.
“Some of the townsfolk visit him, you know, they pity him and his reasons. Who do you think cooks all the food Alph brings there?”
Zigurd looks toward the cabin; he must have seen it plenty of times now. I wonder if he ever saw a human walk in and just now realized why.
Alioth's breath becomes fast and agitated, taking a step closer to me, pushing Zigurd out of the way as he says, “Let’s pretend these humans are dumb enough to let us stay. Then, you think the heavens will sit back and let us live like this forever? Or you think that flash flood was a pure coincidence?”
The memories of that day come back to me, the nightmares and Rayleigh’s last days. What if it’s all part of heaven's plan to torture us even more?
“Nothing that happens here is out of his ratchet sight, boy. We already lost once; no matter how strong you get, you can’t win with your strength alone. You will need numbers,” Alioth said.
“I’ll die trying to protect them then, but I won't waste my life pretending it's already a lost battle set in stone,” I said.
His face turns red with fury, but before he gets to continue, Zigurd finally speaks.
“If heaven knows everything, if they can stop us no matter what. Why are we doing this then?”
“Don't you start giving me attitude, soldier,” Alioth said.
“If every disaster will rain upon us, no matter what we do. Then why can’t I fight for myself? Why should I let every other demon enjoy and thrive? while I starve myself every day and night!” Zigurd said, tears rolling down his cheeks.
They don't have the sadness of a fall but the anger of late realization.
“Everyone else in your deserters' camp has given up on this; you two are the only ones still here, and I won't force you to stop. If you want to dig a hole all the way back to the center of the earth, try and see how far you can get before Wilkin zaps your ass back to hell,” I said.
I turn around and start to make my way back to the base, but before I go, I say, “Hagen joined us to train, you know? He might be able to get his skill soon, but he needs a partner. Should I count on you?”
Zigurd looks at his general, the man who led him through every step of his career and all the way here. And even as he shakes on his metallic boots, he replies, “Yes, at first hour, sir.”
-----------------------
With Zigurd teaming up with Hagen to find each other’s skills, our sessions became a bit more rowdy.
“That's what you call help? I could feed myself faster,” Haggen said.
“Can you hurry up with the cream? I think a sloth would make better use of my time,” Zigurd said.
At some point, we just got used to their bickering.
But even if they struggled to find their powers, their gains compensated for it.
Hagen's head starts to fuse with his sinking neck as his fat pushes more and more outwards. His chest blossoms, pushing his arms out and making his already imposing belly push a full foot down.
Zigurds' armor bulges out like the curves of a barrel. His sides are filled with no one or two but four clashing rolls that struggle for space with his love handles and moobs. His chest is flaccid, drooping over his belly lower and lower by the day. While each connection and old sharp angles soften, leaving soft, supple flesh. It's weird to the touch; it retains its roughness even as it's hot and malleable, like melted steel. Just less mortal, I guess.
Having everyone working together boosts the team's spirit; now they boast of their newfound strength to every onlooker who passes by the construction site.
Wilkin offered to make some small additions to the town to make the demons comfortable. The one they enjoyed the most was a smaller version of the Colosseum.
We built a stone circle with brimstone we brought back from hell. I'm just glad some of them offered to go instead of me. I would have died if my fat ass had to endure that heat again.
Every other day, they go to challenge one another in feats of strength, but no matter how much they clash, they always end up in an eating challenge.
“They are not too different from us,” I said.
“At least mine are, getting my masterful advice, they can't be too far away from success,” Veneham replied.
“Oh, really, did you say that about my teammates? The ones who whipped the floor of yours in the last three rounds?” I said with a grin.
“Yeah, you haven't shut up about it. It doesn't count if we lose due to Kaiser, the man is a twig,” Veneham added.
“It seems not everyone can handle your masterful regimen,” I said.
“No shit, the man is so stubborn, but whatever. Everyone else in my team is now on high-level healing magic. Did I mention we healed a group of sick cows? They are giving five times their regular output of milk, and they are gaining weight in record time,” He said with a grin as well.
“And did I mention my team
“My group summoned a couple of hellhounds and some boar of the damned. We expanded the farmland and added an irrigation system with the River behind Charlie’s house. We can go fishing there soon,” Mineral said with a smile.
“Very well done, Mineral,” Veneham replied.
“Always giving good news, big guy,” Belfort said.
“Okay, I'm gonna get going. Wilkin has a need funnel system, and I'm dying to try it,” Veneham said.
As Mineral and I continued to watch the last few fights of the day, he asked, “Is everything okay on your side of the fence?”
“With my team? Sure,” I replied.
“It's because you continue to stare at that guy, and it's starting to worry me,” he said calmly, pointing at Alioth.
He is quietly looking at Zigurd enter an eating challenge against one of Mineral’s demons.
After explaining my situation and the ever-growing crater in the woods, he leans forward and sighs.
“You did the right thing,” he says.
“I want to believe so, but I still feel I'm doing something wrong. You and Veneham have every demon in your groups already up to speed. But this guy is so hard-headed,” I replied.
“Listen, Bell, we all struggle in our approaches; you are not the only one who realized Veneham’s methods had a ceiling,” he said.
“And here I thought I was original,” I replied.
“He pushes his team as much as he pushes himself, and some of his teammates just can’t have that level of demand. One of them might just go back to hell willingly for all I know,” he added.
“No way, really?” I asked.
“Yeah, and you didn't hear it from me, but Kaiser. The punny one hasn't meshed too well with our ways, and Veneham’s approach didn't help. But even after your conversation with Alioth, he stayed, he is still training, he is still developing, with enough time, he might realize you were right all along,” Mineral added.
Zigurd belched in the distance, claiming victory over his challenge, and the rest of the team came to him to celebrate.
Team bell, team bell, team beeeellll!! they howler through the colosseum.
“Besides, I think you are doing a great job so far. You took the most stubborn group of demons any of us could ask for and managed to make them a team,” Mineral said.
“They are a group of idiots, but they are my idiots. Thanks, big guy, you always know what to say,” I replied.
“I know my calling in life and know how to do it. And for all its worth, I think you found yours,” he said, standing up.
Now, let's get going. I want to see if we can get dinner while Veneham is busy with Wilkin,” he said with a laugh.
---------
“Stay still, little bug, I can’t work if you keep struggling,” Hagen said.
Zigurd moaned under the weight of his partner, who tried to shove another funnel cake down his throat.
“Think how fattening this is, how every gulp you take makes you bigger. The tightness in your stomach is not discomfort, but a pulsing alert that you will become more than what you are now,” Hagen said, pushing another pastry.
Hagen pushed the last piece of food at the table off to Zigurd when the chair the armored demon was seated on split in half. The two of them stumble on top of each other trying to recover themselves.
Hagen looked at Zigurds sprawled body, and for a second, his hands lingered on his partner's folds. Zigurd suppresses a moan, and all we hear is, “Oh, wait, did you just burn me?”
Hagen recoils, and vines sprout from the ground to pull him back. They both looked in shock as Zigurd's body continued to emit heat like a natural furnace, and the vines now wrapping around Hagen bloomed into lilies.
For a moment, I worried they would deflate at the revelation, but I gasp as they tackled each other in a passionate embrace.
The group cheered as the last two demons in our camp finally got their powers.
“Hagen, my dear brother, you have finally, oh no- not like that-” Alcor said, rushing away from the couple.
“What's the problem?” I said, stepping forward until I saw Hagen drop his pants and reach for Zigurd’s ass.
“Okay, everyone, let's just give these two some time,” I said, pushing everyone away.
If the three teams were determined to win before, after that episode, my team was dead set on the prize.
“Is that all you’re having? I ate more than that for breakfast,” one of Veneham’s guys said.
“How can you tell? All you people do is turn off your brain and eat,” said one of my demons.
“You all are just jealous we got trained by the Axe Legend and festival all-time winner!” another demon replied.
“Belfort will kick his ass, just like we will kick yours!” they replied.
They would continue like that for hours, eating more and more just to make a point. Of course, my team won every time, or so they tell me.
The humans picked sides, cheering on their favorite teams. Soon, the townsfolk filled the new areas of town with flags and banners bearing our names in preparation for the next festival.
Even as we continued to repair the damage from the flood, they had eyes only for the future, and so did I.
My water powers continue to improve, and as a kid with a new toy, I keep using them for everything. I barely move as we finish another lane of houses, or put up the new border wall for the town, or even as I fuck Rayleigh senseless.
I push mead and beer into my team’s mouths like a floating fountain while they work. Or use a current to take us all back to the camp like a portable chariot.
My team takes the hint and does the same, using every opportunity they have to show off their skills. Haggen raises wood from the earth as the base for a house without moving a finger, while Zigurd melts metal bars into the wood by just leaning into them.
One of the new guys, with a compression ability, reduced a full table of food to a couple of mouthfuls. Just to see the food expand inside everyone's stomachs.
Mineral's team doesn't stay behind, going all-in on their displays. They would summon trees and vines filled with fruits to their tables like they were waiters. Gorging themselves with fruit and vegetables the size of tables
Meanwhile, Veneham’s team uses healing magic to mend their strained stomachs after a feast, just to keep eating once everyone is full. They make a point of letting themselves enter a zombie-like state where all they see is the food in front of them.
Our rapid progress is so notorious that some demons change groups and join us. That is when we heard Kaiser had jumped ship.
“He just said he couldn't do it,” Wilkin said sadly after sending him back.
“Goes to show we have the better leader, right guys!” One of my guys said the following day.
“Yeah, we’ll show everyone in town we are the best team at the festival!” Hagen replied.
He punched up to the sky, sending his underarm fat jiggling. In the last few months, Hagen managed to catch up to his teammates. even surpassing some of them. He looked like a sack of melted butter, with a belly that knocked his knees and arms that constantly stayed at an angle due to his breasts.
Those things are the size of my head, really.
His boyfriend, cheered by his side, with his metallic body rounding out like a wrecking ball. His legs stay far apart in a wide stance because his thighs have grown the size of a newborn calf; folds of lard make them spread to his size, way past his shoulders.
“We can't lose,” the shark demon said, giving me the biggest grin I have seen in my life.
The imposing wall of flesh has so many teeth, I wonder, how he hasn't eaten Alcor’s hand yet?
While my heart flutters with pride, I had to ask, “Okay, guys, I'm sure we’ll kick everyone’s asses no matter the challenge. But for now, I need a couple of you to help me with some extra work. Wilkin wants to extend our territory to match some new blueprints, so we have to move the limit wall.”
They all stayed silent until Alcor replied, “I'm sorry, boss, I have to help at the brewery. Mr. Ferguson wants my wind to keep a steady fire in the furnaces.”
The raven demon looked at me apologetically while taking a bite of his late afternoon pre-dinner snack. His wings look more like fat folds, with how thick they've gotten lately; his neck and face balloon, making his beak the only part of him that stays solid, along with his talons.
We all feared they would bend under such weight, but with his wind skill and natural strength, he managed to stay mobile through it all. His belly is flaccid even when he is stuffed, ready to burst, wide as Alph of all people. If not by his height, I would say he is ready to stay.
“I have to help at the inn's kitchen.” A demon said.
“I have to help Ms. Constance with the deliveries to the neighboring town.”
“My humans want to move their father off the couch,” Alioth said.
Just like Mineral said, the last man in my group threw the towel on his military ambitions. I think it was seeing The Djinn float back to town, to a big welcoming affair, or the fact that Lucifer didn't get in our way when we went in and out of hell to gather brimstone.
But regardless, it made him click. I never expected an apology, but he still prostrated himself before me just in case. It was hard to see him try to do that at his current weight. His boulder of a belly is as wide as mine but as solid as Mineral’s.
His legs are packed tightly like sacks of potatoes, with a bottom that could take down a tree if he is not careful. All with a pair of tits that could suffocate him if his neck wasn't this long.
“When did you all become so popular in town?” I said proudly.
“Hey, we have high demand since we are the beeeeest!” Hagen shouted, followed by the cheers of his friends.
“Okay, okay, we can schedule this for tomorrow, go make me proud, you idiots,” I said.
As we started to wrap up work on the houses and continued down the town’s map to the roads, stores, and Inn’s. Voyagers started to come back.
The flood ravaged most of the river's course; elsewhere, mudslides and even famine struck, but once they heard rumors of a town blossoming amid the chaos. They just couldn't resist.
They came looking for help and found food they couldn't leave without, even in better times. What can we say, Rothwell is addictive. They couldn't pay, and we had more food than we could feasibly eat even now. So we gave it away for nothing.
Carriages came and went, bringing food and assistance back to their towns. Alph, Charlie, and Mineral even went to the closest villages to send aid. That week, Ray and I stayed to take care of the boys, and oh, how they run around. I had to set up a floating pool for them to settle down.
The constant influx of people made it impossible to walk down the streets, especially as we continue to expand. So we needed to double the width of the streets and the size of eateries.
The number of demons with free time to help us build decreased, since some families grew accustomed to specific demons over time. They would call them constantly for any tasks; bonds grew until they made new contracts and eventually moved with them.
Finally, Wilkin determined the only choice was to summon more demons. Since we didn't have space to keep them at night, they were sent back to hell and resummoned every morning. In hell, they would share the stories of our heroic deeds, the tendencies at town, and of course, the true nature of our strength.
With more fresh demons desperate to learn our ways, the banter between our teams grew on the streets.
“That's what you call a lunch? No wonder your leader is so scrawny,” one of my guys said.
“This is a small offering, beanpole! And you know Veneham is bigger than any other leader!” his rival replied.
“Who are you calling beanpole? I'm three times your size!”
“Neither of you stands up to us in size; only Mineral has the true secret for strength, haha,” one of Mineral’s guys said, followed by his group shouting and cheering.
“We will show you at this year’s festival who has the better boss!” One of my guys said.
Every day that passes, they make me prouder, and make my fear of a bleak future all the more distant.
Between upgrades, plan changes, and additions, we barely had time to work on our houses.
Mineral, Alph, Veneham, and I agree to leave our respective places last once everyone has a roof over their heads. With how frail humans are, it only made sense.
Ray and I went to the place we used to call home every weekend since the flood to rebuild. And even almost a year later, we still have a few details to tune. Every time we think we're finished, we find a new feature or an old knack we could fix.
The month before the festival begins, Ray calls me to meet at our house, and I get ready with tools, nails, and wooden boards to finish the reinforced balcony we had in mind.
“Surprise!” Ray said, standing in front of a finished house.
“Wait, what did you do?” I said.
I was fascinated with the mansion standing in front of me. It's the home we worked on for months, and every coat of paint and every detail has been finished just as we said we would.
“I've been spending some extra time here this week, while you train the guys. Do you like it?” he said confidently.
“I love it, Ray,” I said, hugging him.
With titanic strength, I lift my man off the ground.
“Hey, wow, careful there, I'm not as small as I used to be,” he said as we entered our new home.
“And you are only going to get bigger here,” I said with a laugh.
My eyes welled with tears as I saw what awaited me inside. Putting Rayleigh down, I got close to the wooden figures Ray did for me back when we first started dating.
“I could only find a couple in the wreckage, but I made some replicas to complete the set,” he said.
The bookshelf I used to store my books was full of copies of the ones we planned to read before the flood.
Even a copy of his wooden stove brings life to the kitchen. And right as we enter the bedroom, I see the set of pillows he sew for me.
“More than recovering the tattered clothes, sewing them back was the real hassle,” he said with a laugh.
He showed me his hands, all covered in little bandages from the stings he got while sewing.
“I know you have been worried about what we lost that day, and recovering our lives as soon as possible,” he said.
My eyes open widely as he smiles at me.
“You talk in your sleep, babe,” he added.
“You have to be kidding me,” I said, rubbing my temples.
“I know you only wanted to save me the worry, but you don't have to carry that burden, Bell. I'm going to be here by your side forever, and if another flood sweeps this house away, I’ll make another set of cupboards and sew more pillows. Because you deserve them all,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.
My eyes are so drenched in tears that I can barely see him as I embrace him in the tightest hug I can give him.
“I don't deserve you, Ray. You are the best man to grace this earth. I don’t want to ever face a day without you,” I said.
Kneeling in front of him, I fetch the small box Miriel made for me, I open it, and a small silver band shines as I present it to him.
“Would you do me the honor of being my husband for eternity?” I said.
He looked at me, stunned, before falling to the floor as well and sobbing by my ear as he said, “Of course I will.”
I stepped back and placed the ring on his left hand just like we saw happening in that wedding last spring. His face was covered with tears as he looked at it. But I had to ask the heaviest question.
“Ray, when I say eternity. I mean eternity,” I said.
He looked at me with a pleased expression, wiping his tears and adding, “You want to use that demon spell that binds us for life, right?”
“Just how much do I say asleep?” I said.
“Mineral and Charlie are talking about it. Charlie asked me my opinion on it months ago. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. When you are truly in love, no amount of time is enough; eternity just seems the bare minimum to me,” He said.
I try to hold myself from crying even more. So I clear my throat, hold his hand, and say, “You make me the happiest man in the world, Ray, thanks.”
We stayed there in our space, cuddling, enjoying the beauty of the moment. The world outside doesn't feel bleak or fearful cause no matter what comes for us, heaven, time, or Lucifer himself. I can count on facing it with the best man ever.
Like some of you know, I've been through a lot in the last six months. I had all the intentions of extending this part of the story into a couple of extra chapters. But sometimes things don't align as we originally planned.
<<First Chapter / <Previous Chapter / Next Chapter>>
Is Demons at home going to continue? So curious to see how it ends🥹
Thanks for asking about my story, seeing people care for them motivates me to keep going.
My original plan was to post the follow up to demons at home relatively soon after chapter 10, but my dog of 18 years died and then both my parents got diagnosed with cancer.
But I’m getting back on the train for demons and hoping to finish soon!
In the meantime, let me know if you guys have questions of the story or if there is anything you would like to see, my ask box is always open!
(Collab between me and boeckman on Deviantart who wrote this amazing story)
“Dude. I thought you said this place would be cool.” Mackenzie Yoon was not impressed. The tall young man stared at the cheesy sign with no expression on his face. He looked out of place on the boardwalk. He was dressed as if he had just stepped out of a gym, just like always.
“Fun,” Trent corrected. “I said it would be fun, Mack. Big difference. If it’s all stupid shit, it’ll still be fun because we can laugh at it.”
The two were an odd pair. Trent was the doer who dragged the stoic jock out to experience the world. He was lean and wiry, and he still dressed exactly the way he used to when he was the class clown in school. He insisted that his ripped jeans were still stylish, and he swore he would wear his trusty Converse until the soles fell apart. Despite his slightly below-average height, Mack could always spot him in a crowd thanks to his signature yellow beanie.
By all accounts, Mack should have been a standard jock. He had played multiple sports throughout school, and he practically had a mini home gym in his apartment. But his reserved nature had alienated him from most of his teammates. Instead, he had gravitated toward his neighbor, who could somehow always convince him to go on weird adventures. At first, it was wandering through the “haunted” woods on the other side of their neighborhood. Once Trent could drive, it was exploring abandoned warehouses, and then after high school, it was random road trips.
But this was more than just a road trip. This was a celebration of their recent graduation from college. Trent had gone away for school, while Mack had stayed close to home. Trent had joked that Mack would be a lost puppy without him, but that’s exactly why Mack didn’t follow his best friend to the big state college. If he ever wanted to try actually dating a dude (he’d only come out to his family and Trent’s family in high school), he needed to do it on his own.
But now, the two were up to their old shenanigans. They were both single and untethered at the moment, and they both needed one big, awesome vacation before they officially went from being students to being cogs in the machine. Trent had planned a road trip taking them in a loop that covered every state in New England. Mack shrugged and said, “Sure, that sounds cool.”
Trent had googled the weirdest sights to see, creepy haunted buildings, and former tourist traps that had passed their prime. That last one had yielded the building that now stood before them. The question was, had it ever been in its prime?
“I thought this was supposed to be a Ripley’s Believe It or Not,” Mack said.
“I said it was like a Ripley’s. But probably weirder. Or worse. Or both. That’s what’s fun about it. Either it’ll surprise us with how wild it is, or we’ll be laughing our asses off at how dumb it is. This is supposed to be some so bad it’s good shit. Just look at that ridiculous sign. ‘Beelieve It!’ Why does it have two Es?”
“It has four Es.”
Trent gave his companion a flat stare. “You know what I meant. Anyway, let’s get our tickets and go in.”
Mack shrugged. “Alright.”
Trent knew that was Mack code for, “Let’s do this. I trust your judgement.”
The building was garish to say the least. The ‘Beelieve It!’ sign had white letters on an eye-searing neon psychedelic swirl, and the façade had diagonal stripes in colors that did not match the sign at all. There was something about the whole thing that was like an optical illusion, as if the building wasn’t quite rectangular. The dimensions almost seemed to shift
depending on where you looked, so that one moment it looked taller, and then it looked wider, and then it looked slanted, like the whole thing was leaning to the right. That part was pretty cool.
There was a ticket booth built into the outside wall, so Trent led the way over. He stepped up to the glass and came face to face with some guy’s chest. He looked up and up until he finally made eye contact with a ridiculously tall teenager. These types of attractions always had high schoolers making some summer money, but usually they were just regular pimply, gawky guys, not freaks of nature.
After they got their tickets, Trent whispered, “So… uh, that kid must be a basketball player, right?”
“He can probably dunk the ball without jumping,” Mack deadpanned. It was an exaggeration, but not by that much.
The lobby was just as wild as the outside. The walls were covered in jagged black and yellow spirals that would make you dizzy if you stared too long. The ticket scanner was another bored teen, but this one was sitting down… on a pair of stools. Trent had never seen anyone so fat.
The kid scanned their tickets and gave a spiel about the self-guided tour in a monotone voice. “World’s Blankest Blanks are in the front. Concessions are in the middle. The mirror tunnel, blacklight maze, land of cryptids, and hall of weird history each branch off from concessions and circle back around to the World’s Blankest. Take as long as you’d like. We’re open ’til 9.”
As they headed toward the first main area, Mack stared at Trent with eyebrows raised as high as they would go. Well, Trent couldn’t actually see Mack’s eyebrows underneath the jock’s unruly black hair, but he knew that facial expression. Trent shrugged and whispered, “Fat guys have to work somewhere, right?”
The two friends made their way to the first main exhibit. It was set up kind of like a weird wax museum. Most of the figures had a platform next to them where you could get your picture taken. Mack at least had no interest in paying for a novelty photo, but he wouldn’t mind posing for some with Trent. He knew his goofy friend would get a real kick out of seeing the results, even if they didn’t purchase them.
The place was not crowded, but there were a few families, couples, and small groups wandering around, interacting with the different exhibits. Mack pointed to a sign touting the “Oldest Man Alive.” The wax figure wore only a little earth-colored toga, and he was stooped with a beard that went nearly down to his waist. There was a spot where you could compare your height with the shriveled figure.
Trent laughed out loud when he spotted the World’s Largest Bear, a stuffed polar bear the size of a Volkswagen bus. Some kids were posing for a photo as if it was chasing them.
“See?” Trent said. “This shit is weird in the best way.”
Mack nodded in agreement. “Yeah. It’s fun.”
Trent got a picture pressing his butt up against the World’s Largest Eggplant. He made Mack pose next to a giant shark that looked like it was out of a sci-fi channel movie.
“Hey, look, it’s your dream boyfriend!” Trent joked, pointing to the World’s Strongest Man. The wax figure looked like it was based on a Photoshopped picture of a bodybuilder, and Trent had a feeling that the original image might be pretty racy. The figure was holding a giant barbell, and there was an identical barbell on the otherwise empty platform next to it. “Go on, test your strength!” Trent laughed.
Mack took a long look at the ridiculously proportioned figure and then back at Trent. “No.” “Aww, man,” Trent huffed. “You’re no fun.”
“One more,” Mack said. “Then we move on. We’ll be back here later anyway.”
That was a fair point. Trent headed toward the hallway leading to the concessions area. There were two last exhibits flanking the passageway, and they gave Trent a weird sense of déjà vu. They were the Tallest Man alive and the Fattest Man Alive. “The kid at the ticket booth was almost this tall,” he told Mack, looking up and up at the wax figure. There was a platform where you could compare your height.
“Even he wasn’t this tall,” Mack replied. “No way this is real.”
“Obviously they’re not real,” Trent laughed. “That’s not the point. The point is how ridiculous they are. Like this one.” He pointed to the Fattest Man Alive. A digital counter on the wall behind the figure read “1047 lbs.” The empty platform next to it was also attached to a digital readout on the wall. “Come on, let’s do this one. I bet the two of us together don’t even weigh as much as his gut. Or one of his legs.”
“Dude. No.” Mack agreed that the weirdness of the exhibits was part of the charm, but this one was extra weird. Someone had put a strangely intense amount of work into making the folds of fat realistic on the wax figure. The figure rose a little taller than Mack, and it was utterly enormous. Impossibly big. More than twice the size of that massive kid scanning tickets in the lobby.
The wax figure wore a little strip of white fabric that went down from its shoulder and tucked under its belly. Mack figured it must be for modesty, but it didn’t really cover anything. And the family jewels were very well hidden anyway. The figure’s belly, complete
with flabby folds, hung all the way down to its dimpled knees. Its hips were somehow even wider than its belly, with love handles and moobs that stuck out equally far. The arms were positioned at a wide angle, not because of a particular pose but because its enormous moobs and huge, flabby arms were fighting for space.
Trent thought it was hilarious. “I think his calves are as big as your waist.”
That was probably true. Mack had maintained a very trim waist despite his wide chest and shoulders. The wax figure’s huge calves hung down, completely obscuring its ankles. Its thighs were twice as wide. It was absurd. “I wanna see Bigfoot,” Mack said. “Let’s just go and head to the cryptid area.”
But Trent held his ground. “You said one more.” He looked up at the “Fattest Man Alive” sign. Like most of the signs, it had a spiral design behind the letters. This one was yellow and blue. It almost seemed to move when he stared at it. “I want to do this one.”
Mack couldn’t go back on his word. He was always honest. He followed Trent’s gaze up to the sign. The yellow and blue almost seemed to turn clockwise behind the black letters. It made him dizzy. “Fine. One picture. I’ll pose however you want.”
Trent pumped his fist and let out a little “Yes!” Louder, he said, “Alright, let’s see if this scale thing is fake or if it gets our weight right. “Oh, and do a muscle pose. Look really serious. That’ll make it funnier.”
Mack always looked serious. He stepped up on the pedestal with Trent following close behind. He raised his arms up and flexed, straining the fabric of his t-shirt.
Trent glanced to his side and then hit a complimentary pose, curling his fists and doing his best to flex his nonexistent muscles. He laughed as he stepped off the platform. “This’ll be hilarious. Oh look! The kiosk is right here!” He bounded over to see their photo. Mack peered over his shoulder.
“Look at this!” Trent laughed as the photo came up on the screen. “This is exactly what I wanted! Two skinny guys–”
“One skinny, one muscular,” Mack cut in.
“–and one totally impossibly fat guy. “Look.” He pointed at Mack’s image. “Your shirt’s riding up so that your Adonis belt is showing. That makes the huge guy look even more ridiculous. Can you imagine anyone even half his size?”
“He’s like ten of you.”
“I’m not that small,” Trent pouted. “Hey, look.” He moved his finger above Mack. “There’s our weight. 349. Think that’s right?”
Mack nodded. “I’m just over 200 ‘cuz I’m tall, and I’ve got these.” He flexed his biceps again. You’re probably just under 150 ‘cuz you’re short, and you don’t have any muscles.” He pointed to Trent’s image in the photo.
“Hey, my shirt’s just hiding my arms.” Trent tugged at his long-sleeve jean shirt. “If I took this shirt off, we’d both be in t-shirts, and then…”
“Then we’d see how skinny your arms really are. Just leave it on, bud.”
Trent didn’t know why, but he couldn’t stop examining the photo on the screen. Mack looked so good, the way his shirt rode up, and his Adonis belt disappeared into his baggy gray sweats. And the way his shirt strained over his muscles, and that coolly aloof expression. How was he single?
Mack’s eyes were glued to the screen too, but he was doing mental math. “According to the scale, that guy is three of us.”
“Huh?”
“It would take three of you and three of me to weigh as much as the fattest man is supposed to weigh.” He looked down at Trent’s trim waist and skinny legs. “He’s unrealistically huge, and you’re…”
“I get it,” Trent huffed. “Okay, wanna go get some food? And then we can see Bigfoot.” “Cool.”
The stripes, squiggles and spirals theme continued into the concessions area. There was a surprising number of different booths, each with different types of food and drink.
One had a bunch of different types of loaded fries. Another had hot dogs and brats with several fried sides. Trent’s eyes were pulled toward the one with deep fried Oreos and candy bars. Mack drifted toward the one with a milkshake machine.
Each booth’s sign and décor were as eye-searing and trippy as the building’s façade. Trent stepped up to the one labeled “You Love it Deep Fried!” The blue and purple squiggles on the sign seemed to bend and wave when he looked at it. God, he was hungry. But he wasn’t sure what he actually wanted. He pulled out his wallet and opened up his mouth to speak, and…
The clerk, a chubby kid who wasn’t nearly the size of the ticket scanner, was handing him his order. “Here’s your mega hash brown, sir. Enjoy.”
Trent robotically reached out and grabbed the wax paper wrapper. It had a black and yellow swirl that drew his eyes into the center. “When did I order…?”
Trent had to work to tear his eyes away from the colorful wrapper. He took a bite of the fried treat, and his eyes nearly rolled up in the back of his head. That was damn good. Perfectly salty and potato-y.
“Dude.” Mack snapped Trent back to reality. He was holding a big yellow cup. “Ready?” He jerked his head toward the doorway labeled “Land of Cryptids.”
“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” The doorway turned out to lead to an elevator. As the elevator door opened, Trent took another bite of his snack, and Mack slurped on his milkshake. The moment the door closed behind them, the lights started flashing different colors. “Uh, I guess we'll get a mini light show while we’re in here,” he joked. And then the lights went out, and the elevator was plunged into darkness.
Trent paused, misstepped as he crossed the threshold into the hallway, and Mack nearly walked right into him.
“Move,” the taller young man said.
But Trent didn’t. Instead, he turned back to look at the inside of the elevator. When did the door open? He must have zoned out during the boring, uneventful elevator ride. As he finally moved enough to let his friend out of the elevator, he looked down at the untouched
fried snack in his hand. He took a bite of the giant hash brown, and his eyes nearly rolled up in the back of his head. That was damn good.
“Dude, how many calories is that?” Mack asked as if his milkshake wasn’t even worse. “We had lunch before we got here.”
“Look, I know I’m not as skinny as I used to be,” Trent snapped. “But I’m not counting calories on vacation.” Trent wasn’t big or anything. He just wasn’t a stick anymore like he’d been in school. He wondered why he’d worn these jeans today. He hardly had a belly, but the waistband dug into his middle.
Beside him, Mack hypocritically slurped his dense milkshake and gave an exaggerated sigh. “What flavor is that?” Trent asked. “Strawberry?”
“Duh.”
Mack had very specific tastes. Once he decided on a favorite flavor, that was his only flavor. Strawberry milkshakes were a weakness for him. He put a hand on his slightly soft middle. Those milkshakes were probably part of the reason he didn’t have a six-pack. He unconsciously flexed his arm muscles. He might not be lean, but he was built.
Trent reached toward his friend. “Can I have a taste?”
Mack snatched the cup away from Trent’s grasp and held it close to his chest. “No.” “Oh, come on. One sip.”
“Get your own. We’ll pass the concessions again later.”
“Fine,” Trent huffed. It was just for show. He knew how much his best friend loved a strawberry milkshake. He wasn’t actually surprised that Mack was getting possessive of the sweet treat. He resisted the urge to make a jab about how Mack should have fewer milkshakes if he didn’t want a huge gut. If he did that, Mack would just call attention to the fact that Trent’s belly was looking kinda round these days.
The Land of Cryptids was a long curving hallway that constantly sloped slightly downwards, gradually taking them back down from the second floor to the first. As they walked through the exhibits, Trent munched on the candy bar, and Mack slurped on his shake. There were
blurry bigfoot photos and a model of a yeti. There was a whole section for the Loch Ness Monster and other huge creatures that lived in the various lakes and seas of the world. Now this was the stupid shit they were here for.
Trent polished off the last bite of his snack. That really hit the spot. He went to throw the wrapper away, but the yellow and black swirl caught his eye again. He could swear it was twisting into a spiral that turned and turned and turned…
Trent felt pressure building up in his stomach, but then there was a ‘ping,’ and he felt better. “Dude,” Mack said. “You popped a button again.”
Trent blushed. He knew his jeans were getting tight, but he didn’t think they were that bad. But he’d gained a fair bit of weight since high school. He didn’t just have a belly. A soft roll drooped over the top half of his waistband. When his mom saw him before graduation, she had not so diplomatically said he was getting chunky.
Trent glanced at his taller friend. At least he wasn’t the only one who had sort of let himself go. As they walked through the rest of the hallway, Mack kept having to pull his t-shirt down in an unsuccessful attempt to cover the bottom of his own little belly.
After the duo passed a bunch of stuffed jackalopes, they found themselves back in the circular wax museum. On this side, there were replicas of the supposed bakers of the World’s Largest Pie. The two passed through the exhibits, checking out a few they hadn’t seen yet on their way toward the concessions and the entrances to the other wings.
Trent felt like he needed one more funny photo op before they moved on, although he was a little self-conscious about photos lately. He spotted one exhibit that they’d bypassed the first time. “Hey, we’ve gotta do that one,” he told Mack, pointing at an enormous wax figure that was supposedly on a scale. The sign had a cool, almost hypnotic spiral design.
“Dude. No.”
But Trent was not one to give up easily. The supposed Fattest Man Alive looked totally ridiculous. And he saw the perfect opportunity to pull Mack in. “That guy’s doing it.” The guy in question was a wavy-haired blond twink around their age who was there with his family. “He’s cute, right? Is he your type?”
Mack didn’t answer. The guy was pretty good-looking, but he was really, really skinny. Even if he was Mack’s type, the stocky jock wasn’t so confident ever since he had started putting on weight. But the blond was cocky with a toothy grin, and he held Mack’s eye as he posed next to the enormous wax figure. If the digital numbers on the wall were accurate, he was a tiny fraction of the fattest man’s weight.
“Fine,” Mack muttered. “Let’s do this.” He brushed past the blond twink as they traded places. Out of his peripheral vision, he caught the guy glancing back at him.
“Show off your muscles,” Trent said as he joined Mack on the platform. “Make it silly.”
Mack did not do silly. But he knew if he just flexed, Trent would probably find it hilarious. Especially if the pose made his gut stick out. That thought made Mack blush, but he hit the double-bicep pose anyway.
Trent eagerly hopped off the platform and stood behind the blond, waiting for his turn at the kiosk. Mack followed. He heard the twink say something about needing an afternoon snack. Once Trent had access to the screen, he sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Damn,” he murmured. “I forgot my jeans were unbuttoned.”
Mack peered over his friend’s shoulder. The unbuttoned jeans were barely noticeable. Trent was freaking out over nothing. His little gut mostly covered the front of the waistband anyway.
Mack was more concerned about the rather large strip of gut hanging out from under his shirt. It was pale and rounder than he had realized. “Shit,” he muttered. Then Mack’s eyes went to the digital number behind their slightly chubby forms. “Dude, we’re 432,” he said.
Trent was quick to dismiss it. “That’s both of us together. Sure, we’re not so small anymore, but that’s just college life catching up with us. It’s no biggie. Pun intended. At least we’ll never be like…” he gestured to the wax figure. “That.”
And with that, the two headed off toward the concessions. Mack’s stomach growled.
Mack stared at all the trippy signs, not wanting to choose. So many things looked good. Soft-serve ice cream and giant cookies and huge bags of candy… And then Trent was walking up to him holding a familiar yellow cup and what looked like a churro, and Mack
was holding a bag of Twizzlers in one hand and a sprinkle sugar cookie in the other. Weird. He must have zoned out waiting for his food. “What flavor?” Mack asked his shorter friend.
“Chocolate peanut butter,” Trent replied.
“Gross.”
Trent just laughed. How someone with such a sweet tooth didn’t like chocolate and peanut butter was beyond him. “Alright, where are we heading? Weird history? Hall of mirrors? Maze?”
The stocky jock shrugged and made a noncommittal noise as he took a big bite of his hot dog.
“Alright, weird history it is.”
The hall was pretty boring. There were a few wax figures, but it was mostly just pictures and plaques. Trent found his delicious churro and shake a lot more interesting than reading about a bear carrying ammunition in World War II. He opened up the lid of the shake and dipped the churro right in. There was one kind of interesting section on the history of optical illusions. It had a blurb about the Magic Eye picture craze in the 90s, and there was a huge Magic Eye poster on the wall.
“I never see it,” Mack told him.
“You just have to unfocus your eyes.” Trent took a few steps back and pulled Mack over to stand next to him. “Now, try to cross your eyes, and then completely relax your eyes. Don’t try to actually look at the picture.”
Mack humored his friend even though it never worked for him. He did his best to follow Trent’s instructions. The colors and squiggles started to blur, and he could almost see something. It sorta looked like…
“You saw it, right?” Trent asked as he shoved a handful of fries into his mouth. “It was an ice cream cone.”
Mack could swear he had seen something, but he didn’t think it was that. “Whatever you say.” He popped the last bite of his first cookie into his mouth and prepared to start the
second one. He let out a small belch and unsuccessfully tried to pull his shirt down. He wasn’t sure why he’d worn such an old shirt. It stretched around his love handles and left a fair amount of his lower belly exposed even when it wasn’t riding up.
Mack wasn’t the most in-shape guy, even if he did try to lift weights occasionally. He’d been stocky but fit as a teenager, but that had evaporated pretty quickly in college. He’d blown up pretty fast once he was living on campus.
At least he wasn’t alone. Trent’s belly was trying to escape his shirt too, and his jeans were painted onto his ass and thighs. The shorter guy stuffed some more fries into his mouth and took a step forward, and Mack heard a loud rip.
“Dude, you’ve got a hole in your jeans.”
“Mack,” Trent responded, “they’re ripped jeans. They’re supposed to have holes in them.” “Not right in the ass.”
Trent blushed and reached behind himself. The seam had pulled completely apart at the thickest part of his butt. He knew he’d put on some weight, but it was a lot worse than he thought. “It’s… not that noticeable, is it?”
“I can see what color undies you put on today.”
“We’re grown ups now. Just call them briefs.”
“Fine. I can see your red briefs.”
Trent started to panic, but then he caught sight of that Magic Eye picture again, and for some reason that calmed him down. “It’s… It’s fine. Right?”
Mack peered really hard at his friend. “Yeah. It’s fine.”
Trent breathed a sigh of relief. “Cool. Let’s keep moving.”
Mack followed his friend, putting one thick thigh in front of the other. He kept having to pull at his sweats, which were riding down. He felt a bit self-conscious, but he still shamelessly took big bites of his second sugar cookie, quickly making it disappear.
Before long, they were back in the middle, walking between wax figures on their way back toward concessions to pick their next path. They had already seen most of the exhibits in the room, but one extra ridiculous one caught Trent’s eye. He felt like he’d seen it out of the corner of his eye, but he hadn’t really looked at it.
“Check that one out!” he said with a laugh, pointing to the Fattest Man Alive. We should get a picture next to him.”
“Dude. No.” Mack looked down at his flabby gut. Taking a photo like that would be a celebration of fatness. He wasn’t totally ashamed of his size, but he still hoped he could lose a few pounds at some point.
“Oh, come on. You’re no fun,” Trent whined. As he spoke, someone else stepped onto the platform for a photo. The digital scale readout blinked and changed from 0 to 187. “Hey, didn’t we see that guy earlier?”
Mack took a look at the blond guy as he stepped off the pedestal. His shirt was pretty tight around his slightly rounded midsection. Mack vaguely remembered seeing him elsewhere in the museum, or whatever this place was. He was kinda cute.
“Do it for me,” Trent pleaded. “If you do a muscle pose like you used to do in high school, it’ll be hilarious.”
Mack touched the bit of bare belly that stuck out from under his shirt. The things he did in the name of friendship. “Okay, but you’ve gotta hold your belly just like the statue guy.”
“That’s the spirit!”
The two did their photo op, and then they popped over to the kiosk to see the results. It was kinda funny. Mack’s muscle pose looked silly when his arm muscles were clearly covered in a layer of fat. And his shirt rose up to expose his belly button. Trent had a fair amount of visible belly, too. And his lower belly fat had pushed open his fly, revealing a sliver of his red briefs.
“Damn,” Mack breathed, looking at the number in the photo. “524.” He took a minute to do the mental math. “We’re half his size.”
Trent laughed it off. “Combined. And anyway, he’s not real. Can you imagine seeing someone who was actually that big?”
Mack shrugged. “Guess not.”
“Exactly. Now come on, let’s go do the maze.”
“Isn’t that just for the kids?”
“I hope not. I thought it sounded cool. The blacklight thing should make it more interesting.”
Trent led his friend into the concessions area. The plan was to just walk right through. After all, they had already stopped for snacks twice. Trent had gotten a giant hash brown and a milkshake and a churro and…
The crazy-colored signs stopped him in his tracks. It all looked so good. One more snack couldn’t hurt, right? He wasn’t exactly little. He had to feed the tank. He unconsciously patted his belly. Yeah, he could stand to eat a little more, especially if it was deep-fried…
Trent didn’t really have enough hands to carry the loaded fries, mozzarella sticks and extra-large soda he’d just been handed. He looked over and saw that Mack was having a similar issue with his apple hand pie, and king-size Snickers and his second strawberry milkshake of the afternoon. Well, they would find a way to make it work. Probably by scarfing some of their treats down before they moved on.
Mack pointed to some small tables on the side of the room. “Eat now, maze after?”
“You read my mind,” Trent replied. He followed behind Mack as his friend shifted his bulk and headed over to the nearest table. When Mack leaned slightly forward to set his things down, Trent said, “Whoa, man. Crack kills.” A rather large strip of the big guy’s wide rear was showing.
Mack half-heartedly tried to adjust his sweats, but it didn’t do much. His expansive backside blended right into his back fat and love handles, so his pants were always riding down. Ever since he passed 300 pounds, he’d stopped really caring how his pants fit.
Trent set his own things down, noting with amusement that even the little round tables matched the psychedelic swirl theme. As he settled his own hefty butt into the chair, he lamented that the seating wasn’t a little more accommodating for big guys. Not that he was as big as Mack, but he had an awful lot of weight in his lower midsection, specifically his lower belly and rear. As he sat down, his mostly exposed belly spilled into his lap. If he kept snacking like this, he’d be over 300 like his friend before he knew it.
The two didn’t talk much as they ate. Well, Mack was always quiet except for the loud sounds of munching and slurping, punctuated by the occasional belch. As Trent finished the last of his chicken fingers and set the empty tray on top of the empty fry tray, he wondered how he’d gotten into this cycle of overeating. Sure, he loved food, and he was partial toward anything fried, but he was already a big guy, and he was headed toward being massive if he didn’t do something soon.
Trent took a long swig of his soda, eyes still focused on the remains of his large snack. The swirls on the tabletop seemed to move under the empty tray. Purple and blue and green filled his vision.
Trent set down his cup and let out a loud, unselfconscious belch. Mack smirked. Trent looked again at the empty containers that had piled up on his side of the table: a fry tray and a chicken-finger tray and an onion ring tray. Whenever he thought about how much food he could eat, he felt a weird sense of pride. He grabbed his last treat, a deep-fried Oreo.
Mack slid his chairs back – one for each ass cheek – so he’d have room to stand up. He wondered why places like this insisted on such tiny chairs. Couldn’t anyone accommodate a 400-pound man? He put one hand on the table and braced one against the wall as he hefted himself up. “You ready?” he asked Trent.
Mack’s slightly smaller friend was still gaining his balance. Trent claimed that his ass and belly evened each other out, making it easier for him to move around. Mack thought Trent wobbled just as much as anyone who was north of 350. For half a second, Mack was surprised to see Trent’s bare arms. Wasn’t he wearing a long-sleeve shirt? But then he remembered. Trent had cut the sleeves off of that jean shirt ages ago when his arms stopped fitting in the sleeves. He liked that thing too much to get rid of it, even if it hardly even counted as a vest these days.
“Let’s go,” Trent said once they had cleaned up their very large mess. “Time to check out this maze.”
“It had better not be for kids, or we won’t fit,” Mack quipped.
Trent just chuckled, hiding his very real worry that Mack might get stuck somewhere in the dark maze. The taller guy was awfully big both back to front and side to side, so if there were any tight corners, it could pose a problem.
Trent found the entrance, a big black door labeled “Otherworldly Maze!” in neon pink, purple, and yellow-green. He opened it up, and sure enough, the other side was completely dark except for the blue-purple glow emitting from a few blacklights that illuminated small corners of the floor and ceiling. When the door closed behind Mack, they were shrouded in darkness except for the glow of their own clothes.
“You’re blue!” Trent laughed, pointing to Mack’s sweatpants, which glowed a faint blue, and his t-shirt, which looked almost cerulean. Of course, there was a huge gap between the garments where Mack’s belly spilled out of his shirt and covered almost the whole crotch of his pants. Trent’s own clothes looked almost black except for his jean shirt, which also glowed a faint blue.
Trent took the lead as always. The first section was easy. It was just there to acclimate them. There weren’t any dead ends, just corners that would take you by surprise if you weren’t carefully watching the glow of each blacklight to look for corners. But then it turned into a proper maze with multiple choices. Trent walked straight into a wall, and Mack’s soft belly bumped right into Trent’s plush lower back.
“Dude, watch it,” Mack said as if he wasn’t the one who had rear-ended the other.
After that, there wasn’t room for the two big guys to switch spots, so they just shuffled around in place, and Mack took the lead. He was more methodical than Trent, and they seemed to be making good progress. Just as Mack was wondering how much more maze there was, he wandered into a whole new section. Here, there were colorful neon spirals on the walls that glowed neon in the blacklight.
The wall designs should have made things easier since they made the walls more visible, but instead, they were disorienting. Mack would pass a green swirl and a pink one and belatedly realize that there might be an opening in the wall between them. And with nothing to look at except the vivid spirals, his eyes were playing tricks on him. At one point, he was
so focused on a spiral in front of him that he walked right into the wall. His expansive belly and massive moobs squished right into the spiral.
“Dead end,” Mack muttered. “You’ve gotta lead again.” He huffed and puffed as he turned himself around in a half-circle to follow Trent. He shuffled along with heavy footfalls. His hand unconsciously went up to one of his moobs. His shirt had rolled all the way up to expose them. He thought about trying to pull the too-small shirt down to at least cover his chest, but then he thought, nah. It was what it was.
Trent also felt disoriented by the colorful patterns in his field of vision. Every time he stared too long at one of the spirals, he felt a little slower and heavier. But that was just his imagination, of course. He was, after all, slow and heavy. He wasn’t getting hypnotized into thinking he couldn’t move fast, he was just 450 pounds. His movement was perfectly normal for his size.
Trent had honestly worried that the maze would be way too easy, but it was actually an interesting challenge. And not just because of his size. If anything, the place had done a good job of making the maze accommodating toward big guys like him and Mack. It never felt cramped except when they ran into a dead end and had to maneuver their combined hundreds of pounds of fat back toward the correct path.
“That was kind of awesome,” Trent said as he opened the door back into the side of the wax figure room. He shielded his eyes as he gingerly stepped back into the light. Well, as gingerly as a hefty guy like him could.
“Yeah. It was cool.” Mack had to pause, put his hand against the wall, and catch his breath as the door closed behind him. Only Trent could talk him into doing this much walking in a single day. He was not an active guy, to say the least. Mack took a good look at his more adventurous friend. “Dude, your moobs are out.”
“Said the pot to the kettle,” Trent laughed. He reached out and poked Mack’s exposed chest. “You never put those things away.”
Mack felt… something… when his friend touched his huge, heavy chest. His belly hung low, and his ass and thighs were thick and wide, and his arms were big and flabby, but his chest might be his favorite part of his size. Sure, the flab pushed out to the sides, getting in the way of his arms, but it was so soft and sensitive.
Mack pulled his hand away from the wall and psyched himself up to do some more walking. “Alright, let’s go.”
The two young men really took their time moving between the various exhibits. Trent always claimed he moved slowly because Mack got winded so easily, but Mack knew Trent couldn’t move fast if he tried.
“I’m glad that maze was fun,” Trent said, “because this room has been pretty disappointing. There’s nothing all that shocking.”
Mack nodded in agreement. “That one looks really dumb.” He pointed at the World’s Strongest Man, which was pretty huge but not weird or anything. A massively built shirtless man in ripped shorts stepped onto the pedestal next to the wax figure and effortlessly lifted the prop barbell.
“You’d think they’d exaggerate the proportions at least a little,” Trent agreed. He spotted a wax figure that he’d apparently missed until now. “And look at that one. It says Fattest Man Alive, but he’s just a little on the large side.”
Mack shook his head. The supposed scale readout on the wall said the guy was barely over a thousand pounds. That was the craziest number they could come up with? “Lame,” he said out loud.
But Mack’s attention stayed on the Fattest Man exhibit when a cute blond guy stepped up onto the empty pedestal for a photo. He was pretty small, barely 300 pounds, and only a bit of his belly was visible below the hem of his shirt, but at least the shirt was skin-tight. His belly jiggled an awful lot as he stepped down off the platform. Damn. Mack was starting to feel things.
“Let’s do that one,” Trent said, breaking Mack out of his reverie. “Just to show how stupid it is.”
“Dude. No.”
“Aww, why not?”
“Will we both fit?” It was a valid question. There was a circular railing around the platform. It might fit one regular-sized guy or a couple skinny guys, but two regular-sized guys was a stretch.
Trent looked up at the Fattest Man Alive sign with its familiar yellow and blue swirls. “We’ve gotta do it, man. We’ll fit.” He glanced dubiously at the small pedestal. “I think. Besides… Don't you want to show off?” He jerked his head toward the blond, who was heading to the photo kiosk but kept glancing in their direction.
Mack’s usually stoic face slid into a smirk. His hand unconsciously went to his round belly. He was probably the biggest guy in the room. He could show that little blond what a real man looked like. “Fine. Me first, then together.”
“That’s the spirit!”
Before Mack stepped up, he took another look at the wax figure. The guy was pretty big, just not unrealistically so. Whereas Mack and Trent’s guts covered their crotches, the Fattest Man’s belly covered his thighs. His moobs draped low and extended far to his sides in a way that made Mack jealous. His legs were a whole lot bigger than Mack’s, and even his neck was thicker. But he still felt like only a moderate exaggeration of Mack’s perfectly average body.
Mack sucked in his gut the best he could to get between the railings and onto the platform. It didn’t do much, but it was enough. Still the metal railings pressed into his gut and love handles as he passed through. Once he was fully on the platform, he let out a heavy sigh. As he put his arms down at his sides – well, as far down as they would go – his straining sleeves rolled up over the thick pudge of his flabby arms. At the same time, the hem of his shirt finished rolling all the way up over his chest, bunching up just below his neck.
Mack grabbed a moob in one hand and a handful of belly in the other. Those were the signs of a man who could eat. Once the photo snapped, he gestured for Trent to join him.
Mack watched his shorter friend make his way up the ramp, facing similar problems. Trent’s lower belly swayed side to side just a little with every step. He tried turning sideways to get past the railings, but the size of his round, partially exposed ass just made it worse. Although he weighed less than Mack, his fat pooled around the middle of his shorter frame, making him just as big around as the taller young man.
Mack tried to scoot back to make room for Trent, but his thick ass ran right into the railing behind him. As Trent put his full weight onto the platform, standing belly to belly with his friend, his whole front seemed to soften and droop just a little more. Trent did his best to rotate to face the camera, but it was tough work.
As Trent slowly turned himself around, Mack noticed just how many holes Trent had in his jeans. Sure, all of Trent’s jeans had holes where the seams were splitting apart, but Trent’s thighs looked like sausages that had popped big holes in the casings. Trent finally got himself repositioned, and Mack averted his eyes from the very large display of crack between Trent’s low-riding jeans and his tiny jean shirt/vest.
By the time the camera flashed, Trent’s partially bare ass was pressing right into the folds of Mack’s belly. Now they just had to get off of this stupid platform – it was definitely only made for one person – so they could see their photo. The only problem was, Trent was completely wedged in between the front railing and Mack’s round, squishy body.
“Suck in,” Trent instructed. “I can’t move.”
Mack didn’t think he had even another inch to back up, but he tried. The results were not pretty. He leaned back too far, nearly losing his balance. While most of his weight was in his front, his love handles, back fat, and upper arms were not lightweight. He raised his arms up, waving frantically to regain his balance. As he got back a little bit of stability, one of his hands grazed his moob, and it just stayed there. He started absently fondling his very large nipple. God, that felt good.
Meanwhile, Trent had a brainwave. He could use the railing and work with it instead of against it. He grabbed his expansive belly and hefted it as high as he could. On his third attempt, he managed to slide the lower roll of flab over the railing. That cleared several inches for him to step forward, leaning his bulk over the surprisingly sturdy metal rail.
Still draping his flab over the railing, he inched sideways, carefully sliding his bulk off of the platform. Soon he was standing on the little ramp, free from the confines of the pedestal. He wobbled his way forward, feeling his jiggly fat shake as usual.
Now Mack just had to get off the platform. He had gotten on, so he could get off. Right? But he could swear the railing closed tighter around his bulk than before. Weird. He got up to the front and braced his hand on the railing, turning slightly sideways. There was nothing
doing. The railing was going to seriously dig into both his belly and his love handle. Good thing he was so soft and squishy.
Mack huffed as he waddled down the ramp to catch up with his friend. The blond was done checking out his photo at the kiosk, and now he was not so subtly watching Mack and Trent as they made their way to the kiosk.
Mack wasn’t the only one who noticed. “The blond guy’s watching you,” Trent whispered. “He’s good-looking, right? Is he your type?”
“He’s kinda little,” Mack pointed out. The blond was barely over 300 pounds. Not skinny, but definitely on the smaller side.
“Look, I’m just sayin’ maybe you should give him your number. You never put yourself out there. What do you think? Would you date him?”
Maybe if the guy gained a couple hundred pounds, Mack thought. He just shrugged noncommittally. He made his way over to the kiosk and peered over Trent’s shoulder. “Damn. We look good.”
Trent had to agree. He had a sexy crease that went across the lower part of his belly, folding in at the navel. Mack loomed large behind him. The taller young man took up so much space. How was he single?
“Look at that,” Trent said, pointing to the digital number behind them. “1136. How are they gonna call that wax figure the fattest man if two regular guys are each more than half his size?”
Mack shook his head. “Beats me.”
“Alright, what next?” Trent asked. “We still have to do the mirror tunnel, right?” “Dude. That means more walking.”
“Yeah, that’s usually what you do in museums,” Trent responded.
Mack hefted his huge, jiggly belly. “Do I look like a guy who walks around all afternoon?”
“You look like a guy who sits around on his ass eating sweets. But I’ve gotta make sure you get out of the house sometimes.”
Mack gestured to their surroundings. They were definitely not in a house. “Mission accomplished. Now let’s go.”
Trent wouldn’t let it go. “Look, I’m feeling kinda winded too. Let’s sit down for a bit, and then we can decide.”
Mack knew better than to argue. Once Trent made up his mind, he wasn’t going to back down. And Mack did need to sit as soon as possible. He was not built for this much activity. Trent started shuffling toward the concessions area, and Mack followed behind. For once, they bypassed the food stands and went straight to the tables. One had bigger, sturdier chairs that felt made just for them.
Mack dropped his weight into the chair with a grunt. He was not standing up anytime soon. As usual, his belly engulfed his lap, and his huge chest sat heavily on his stomach. He absently rubbed the crease between his moob and his belly. Across from him, Trent took off his beanie and dabbed at his sweaty forehead. He wasn’t any more built for walking than Mack was, even if he pretended otherwise.
A loud belch tore through the room. Mack turned to see the cute blond, who wasn’t quite as small as Mack had thought before. He had some meat on his bones after all. His big, round belly was mostly exposed, as was only right for a bigger guy. And his pants were barely holding on over his thick thighs and massive ass. Mack felt a familiar stirring.
Trent smirked as he watched his friend get completely distracted by the heavy blond. “So you do have a type,” he chuckled.
Mack blushed, which was very uncharacteristic for him. He watched as the blond stood up and headed toward the entrance for the mirror tunnel. His eyes stayed on that fat ass as it swayed away.
Mack yawned. He’d done too much walking for his nearly 600-pound body. He heaved himself up, spreading his thick thighs wide and pushing off of the table. “Alright, let’s go. Dinner time.”
But Trent noted that his friend was still staring in the direction of the bottom-heavy blond. “Come on, big guy. We’ve gotta do the mirrors.”
“I thought we agreed this place was lame.” Mack took a couple small steps toward the main hall and the exit.
Trent wasn’t ready to give up. “So we have to end on a high note.” He brazenly slapped his friend’s belly, watching the ripples spread across the wide surface. “I’ll buy you a milkshake.”
Mack’s stomach growled. He looked back down at the table with its mesmerizing swirls…
Mack was sitting down, taking the last gulp of his strawberry milkshake. “Thanks again for the shake,” he said.
Trent mumbled something in response, but it was unintelligible because his mouth was full of funnel cake. He was pretty sure he’d gotten one of every fried treat they offered here. The two quickly polished off their small snacks and got ready for the final leg of the tour. They shuffled toward the door, moving slowly and deliberately. They both had a tendency to misjudge their size, knocking into chairs or trash cans with their hips or bellies.
The door led to an elevator that went one floor down. Apparently, they were serious when they called it a tunnel. Luckily, the elevator was plenty big enough for both of them. Mack glanced at the capacity out of habit. 2,500 pounds. They could fit one more regular-sized adult – or maybe two skinny ones – and be fine.
The elevator door opened into a brightly lit space that started as a relatively narrow space completely lined with mirrors before opening up into a wide space further ahead. Trent maneuvered himself out of the elevator, scooting one tree trunk thigh in front of the other. The first few mirrors were completely flat, just showing the pair of very round men ambling down the hallway. Then they got to the silly stuff.
Mack huffed a little chuckle when he saw himself with absurdly wide hips and a relatively narrow chest. The next mirror had a pretty much opposite shape, making his moobs look extra huge and his legs look impossibly skinny.
“Check this one out!” Trent laughed, pointing to a mirror that made their bodies look really compact with huge, stretched out heads.
The hall opened up into a larger space that split in two at the far end. The warped mirrors did all sorts of funny things to their reflections. On the other side of the rounded space, the blond from before was taking the lefthand path. Mack’s breath caught. That ass was so… big. The guy’s pants were fighting a losing battle. It was a great look on him.
Trent nudged his friend. “Wanna follow him?”
But not long after, they heard, “Ugh, dead end” from somewhere up ahead, and the blond came waddling back. He locked eyes with Mack, and then he looked down at Mack’s impressively large body. “Don’t bother trying to go that way,” he said. “It gets really narrow really fast. You would hardly fit.”
Mack took that as a compliment. He nodded and said, “Thanks.” The blond headed for the other path.
“That’s it?” Trent whispered. “Thanks?”
Mack tilted his head and shrugged.
That was not the right answer. Trent shooed his friend forward. “Go. Follow him.”
Mack did as instructed. It was useless to argue once Trent made a decision. Besides, Mack was more than happy to follow that perfectly wide, round ass. The only problem was, the blond was a bit smaller and a lot faster than Mack. Still, the huge, heavy guy moved as quickly as he was able.
Trent walked behind his friend, laughing internally at how relatively fast Mack could move with the right motivation. Usually, Trent only saw Mack go that fast if there was a promise of candy.
The path split again, and Trent heard a quiet “Shit” in front of him. Mack must have already lost track of the blond. “Go left,” Trent said. “The first path was right, so it’s probably not right again.”
They turned to the left, and Trent noticed that the mirrors on this path weren’t warped. They all looked flat. Trent gaped at his reflection. The first mirror showed him with his scruffy hair
looking all messy and no yellow beanie to be found. He frantically reached for his head to make sure his favorite hat was still in place. It was. What kind of crazy illusion was that?
Mack was looking at the mirrors on the other side, equally confused. One mirror showed him with a tattoo on his huge belly. At first, he thought the “tattoo” was drawn directly onto the mirror, but when he grabbed his gut and shook, the tattoo moved and wobbled. When he moved to the next mirror, the tattoo was gone.
Trent stared at a mirror trying to figure out what looked so weird about his reflection. Finally, it dawned on him. It made him look at least as tall as Mack, maybe an inch taller. That was weird. Right?
“Dude,” Mack called out, “this mirror makes my tits look extra huge. Like, extra extra.”
“Lemme see,” Trent said, turning around. But when he looked in the same mirror as Mack, he didn’t see anything weird. Sure, Mack’s chest fell over his belly in massive, heavy folds, but that wasn’t at all unusual. “Looks normal to me,” he told his friend. “What’s weird is…” He was about to say how weird it was that he looked taller than Mack, but he’d finally
beaten out his friend’s height when he had that late growth spurt senior year of high school. “What’s weird?” Mack asked.
“Huh?” Trent had forgotten what he was talking about. He looked around. “Shit. How did we not notice we were at a dead end?”
The two tall, obese young men slowly made their way back to the most recent split in the path. They paused to catch their breath. Maybe Mack had been onto something when he said they’d done enough walking for the afternoon. But it was too late to turn back.
This time, Trent took the lead. Thankfully, this section seemed to just snake around in curves rather than branching off. It had more of those seemingly plain mirrors that showed impossible illusions. One made Trent look shorter than his friend, although the next showed him several inches taller than Mack like normal. Trent loved how much his size – both height and width – made him stand out in a crowd.
One mirror somehow made their shirts disappear. Another made Trent’s belly look like it hung almost to his knees. That couldn’t be right. He reached under his belly just to make sure he could still reach the unbuttoned crotch of his pants. He could, just barely.
They came around a bend, and the next mirror really threw Trent for a loop. He looked… skinny. Utterly tiny. His shirt went all the way down his torso, covering his whole flat stomach. Who dressed like that? And yet, there was something oddly familiar about the image, something that tickled his brain.
Trent spotted Mack’s reflection in that mirror, and he really short-circuited. In the crazy warped reality of the mirror, Mack was… muscular. Like, with pecs and biceps and stuff. Just about the only part of the reflection that looked like the real Mack was the unruly black hair. Suddenly it hit him. He knew with absolute certainty that somewhere out there in the multiverse, there was a Mack who didn’t get big like a normal guy. A Mack who dieted to stay lean and who worked out every day. A Mack who only ate sweets when he was splurging.
And that Mack just might be friends with a stick-thin Trent who didn’t have an ounce of belly fat. Maybe there was a world out there where most guys just weren’t soft and fat. He wondered what that would feel like…
“Dude,” Mack said, breaking Trent out of his thoughts. “Check this out. I look huge.”
Trent turned to see the mirror Mack was looking at, and Mack did look huge. So did Trent. He laughed, and Mack gave him a questioning glance. What was more absurd, having a belly almost down to his knees, or having no belly at all? There was no question. Trent couldn’t imagine ever being skinny. He looked over at his best friend, whose belly and moobs took up most of his body. Mack, muscular? It was a crazy thought.
Trent shuffled forward to the next mirror. This one showed their bellies almost down to their knees too. It also showed them in shorts that were almost completely hidden by their bellies. Finally, they must be getting to the end of the mirror maze. They were back to mirrors that didn’t show any sort of warped reflection. They looked perfectly normal.
“Are we almost done?” Mack wheezed. “I’ve gotta sit.”
“I know, big guy, I know.” Trent really just called his friend ‘big guy’ out of habit. They were around the same size these days, and they were both a little above average. Trent was feeling winded too.
Trent turned and found another mirrored wall. It was another dead end. But then he noticed the elevator buttons. The elevator door was disguised as another mirror. Clever. He pushed the button.
Trent put his hands on his hips while they waited. Or rather, he rested his hands on his love handles. He didn’t really have anywhere else to put them. Mack’s hands found their way to his chest as usual. That was his default – subtly fondling his nipples and chest fat. The door opened, and they ambled inside.
The door opened upstairs in the wax figure room, and there was the handsome blond, not far away, leaning against the wall and catching his breath. Like Trent and Mack – like pretty much everyone – he needed an awful lot of breaks in between walking. He wore no shirt, of course, but he had a fanny pack strapped across his very wide torso. The strap dug into his back fat.
Mack paused to lean against the wall, but Trent whispered, “Go! Now’s your chance. Get his number.”
Mack knew Trent was right. He’d regret it if he didn’t say something. If there was ever a time to not be quiet, this was it. He took slow, deliberate steps toward the stranger. “Hey. Thanks for the advice downstairs.”
The blond turned to face him and took a long look up and down, taking in every bulge and curve. “You’re welcome. You definitely would have gotten stuck in that little hallway. You’re even bigger than I am.” The way he said it, it was obviously a massive compliment.
Mack blushed. “Oh. Uh, thanks.” Suddenly he wanted to back out. He was terrible at this. But then a huge, round belly appeared by his side.
“My friend is trying to ask for your number,” Trent told the blond.
Mack’s cheeks heated even more, and he rubbed his neck. “Yeah. You’re cute.”
A smile bloomed on the blond’s face. He reached his pudgy fingers into his fanny pack and pulled out his phone. “Type your number into my phone, and I’ll text you!” As Mack typed his number, the blond said, “I’m Evan.”
“Mack.”
“I can’t believe a hot guy like you noticed me, Mack.”
“You’re cute,” Mack repeated. “Seriously.” He patted Evan’s large belly. “You look like you can eat.”
Evan’s grin widened. “Hell yeah.” He took the phone back, checked the area code on Mack’s number, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god. I was afraid you’d be too far away to really see each other.”
The two talked a little more, with Trent respectfully staying much quieter than usual, but then Mack's stomach grumbled loudly. “I need dinner. Now.”
Evan nodded. “Go fill up the tank, big guy. I hope… Maybe I can eat with you sometime.” “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Evan waved goodbye, and Mack and Trent very slowly made their way out of the museum and back to their car. Well… SUV. Who was small enough to fit in a car?
They passed the ticket scanner out front. He was almost as big as Mack had been in high school. He had potential to get nice and huge in the next couple years.
“Did you have fun?” Trent asked.
“Yeah. It was fun. Except…”
“Except the Fattest Man Alive,” Trent finished. Mack nodded. “What was with that? He was barely bigger than you!”
“Right? There’s gotta be bigger people than that. I’m not that huge.”
It's still dark outside. Everything feels sticky, even more so than usual. The wind whistles under our door, flooding the bedroom with a cold and humid feeling. I should get Rayleigh another blanket, for someone this big, he surely gets cold easily.
As I stood up, I heard the grunting of an animal. What the hell is going on?
After giving Ray my blanket, I look for the source of the shrills. Stepping outside the house, it doesn't take me long to crash into a panicked pig.
“Bacon, what's wrong? Where is Veneham?” I said, trying to calm the pig down.
The pink creature is never too far away from his owner, but looking around, I only saw an empty street.
I get ready to walk the pig back to his home, but he is restless, struggling to release himself from my grasp.
“Bacon, stand still,” I said before he ran off.
He continued to oink and shrill wildly down the street, waking everyone in its path.
I saw his form until he went up the hill towards Wilkin’s place. I guess he had a nightmare.
Looking up the hill, I saw the source of the pig's anxiety. The mountains that tower over town are covered by a massive dark cloud that is slowly moving towards us.
“What's the matter?-,” Rayleigh said.
His eyes go blank at the massive dark mass that pulsates with every lightning strike, almost as if it were alive.
“I haven't seen a storm cloud this big,” he said quietly.
I look at Charlie’s place; if anything is going on, Mineral would know. He is more in tune with nature and stuff like that. Focusing on their house, I see Mineral already out.
He is… talking with a bird of a feather; his pale blue skin looks ghostly as he rushes into the house.
I grabbed Ray’s arm, and the two of us lumbered our way to Charlie´s.
Forsaken is the day they chose to live so far away from us. The block walk was hell; my legs rubbed together like turkey legs, ready to burn up in the oven. My belly sways with each step, making me waddle even more than I already do. My moobs bounce, blinding me from anything below my second chin, and my lungs scream for air to support the arduous procession.
While I have learn to love this feeling, I can't deny that it doesn't help me move any faster.
Rayleigh, beside me, is not doing much better; he has managed to keep up with my size, and even with all the healing magic in the world, he looks like a stuffed sausage trying to run a marathon.
By the time we reach Charlie's house, we are both covered in sweat, panting for dear life.
“Mineral, what's going on?” I shouted.
Alph came down with Davie and Eliah on his shoulders while Mineral carried Charlie like a sack of potatoes.
“Alph, put me down,” Davie said.
“What's going on? It's still dark outside,” Eliah added.
“A flash flood is coming down; we have to get everyone out of town now!” Mineral said.
“A Flood?!” Charlie said in disbelief.
“What are we waiting for? Let's go!” Alph said, pushing past Ray and me.
The thunderstorm reached us as we made our way to the main street. The curtain of rain hit us like a slap on the face, leaving us drenched in a matter of seconds.
“Everyone out, we have to evacuate!” I shouted.
“A flash flood is coming. Don't waste time, go up the hill now!” Mineral said.
With most people already awake thanks to bacon, the streets became a bloody mess. Everyone flooded the way up the hill to the Lord’s manor. Their hearts resound in my ears; they pump like drums ready for war. The downpour hides their sweat, but every person flooding the streets is in the same exhausted march as ours.
Mineral put down Charlie and said, “I have to rescue the animals from the farm, you have to make sure everyone makes it to the Lord’s mansion. It's the highest point in”
A flash of light blinded us all, and silence permeated the space as our eyes adjusted to the sudden burst from the skies. When we finally managed to recover our sight, we saw the Lord’s mansion ablaze. Or well- what remains of it.
The thunder that blasted the mansion into pieces roared through the air. I look around, desperately trying to figure out where to go now.
“Follow me, let's go to the sawmill!” Wilkim said so loudly that even I could hear it across town. Well, I assume my demon senses helped as well.
Mineral rushed to the farmland, and we gathered ourselves to follow the march of people, when the earth started to tremble. Everyone hurried in fear, gathering the little strength they still had.
It's here.
“Ray, Charles, go ahead, I have to buy everyone some time,” I said.
Mineral looked back at us, and I shouted, “What are you waiting for? Go get those animals, or we won't have anything to eat tomorrow!”
There was concern in his eyes, and yet, he nodded and rushed to his own mission.
“Wait, Bel, what are you doing?” Ray asked.
“I will hold this off for as long as I can and then meet you back in the woods,” I replied.
“You have never used your powers for something this big. There is no guarantee it will work,” he said, fear filling his eyes.
“Ray, do you think I'm strong enough for it?” I said.
“Eh?”
“We train, and we struggle, and we conquer every challenge we have found so far. Do you think I can do this?” I shouted.
“Bel, it's not about-”
“Answer me!”
“Of course you can, you can do anything! But I don't want to risk you!” he shouted.
“And I won't risk losing you to my own element. I have this skill, of any of us, it's my duty to save you all,” I said.
“Belfort, this is not the time to play hero. We have to run,” Alph said.
“You can’t just hold off a flood, let's go!” Charles said.
“Ray, trust me,” I said.
He looks at me and I see the fear change in his eyes, to doubt, and finally to courage. He wraps his arms around me as he whispers in my ears, “I won't be whole until you are back, so don't make me wait, love.”
With a kiss, he steps aside before adding, “Show mother nature who is this town’s fucking protector.”
“But, Belfort!” I heard Davie said.
“Come with us! Please,” Eliah said through tears.
“Alph, take them already!” I said before rushing forward.
With a resolute nod, he grabbed the trio of humans and rushed up the hill as fast as he could.
I get in the center of the empty street and spread my legs. Taking a deep breath, I steady my stance, trying to stop my legs from trembling. I have used my demon skills for housework or my feeding sessions with Rayleigh, never anything this monumental.
But as memories of my days basking in the sun with Ray, letting water flow around us like an extension of my body, I feel my power exploding, boiling inside me like never before.
The wave finally entered town, crashing against the watchtower, tumbling it down with the alarm bell, giving one last resounding bang before it sank into the muddy waters. It crashes into houses and drags the town’s entrance like it's nothing, until it comes to a halt with a roaring boom.
The water ripples and struggles aggressively against the invisible wall of my making.
“Fuck, this is heavier than the Bison at the festival!” I scream, feeling my leg muscles scream.
I can feel the pressure from the river pushing against my powers, slowly inching closer.
The wave tilts the windmill in its path, and the sound of crushed wood fills the air. But I try to drown it as I focus on my titanic task. The blades of the Windmill spin with the strong wind like never before, and I can hear them growing closer to me.
Against my better judgment, I look up. The water is propelling the towering building, and it is now leaning towards me. The thing looks like a mad giant flailing a sword, and for a second, I almost ran away.
But I can’t, my legs are frozen, out of fear or determination, I don't know which. The windmill blade finally snaps and flies straight to me.
Suddenly, someone appears at my side. He jumps high into the skies and slashes the blade, saving me by a hair.
The man, not satisfied with saving my life, continues his attack, splitting the windmill in half and smashing his axe against the ground in front of him.
The earth shook and trembled as a massive fissure opened up in the direction of his attack—even the water split as the energy traveled forward.
Water gushes into the cracked earth, slowing the wave's advance, and I feel my arms relax a bit.
“You can thank the Djinn for this move later,” Veneham said, finally facing me.
He doesn't waste time with explanations and makes two more attacks, creating a vast chasm between me and the roaring wave, before rushing to help people evacuate.
I see from the corner of my eye, Alph picking up people from the streets and their own houses. He moves like a blur, flying through town and putting them in a carriage to pull uphill. To the naked eye, he is a speeding arrow, but to my demon eyes, I can tell he is the world’s fastest speed walker.
Even with his ability, his burgeoning body makes running as much of a hassle as ours. I restrain the laugh that's building in my throat as I continue pushing the water back.
The chasm is filled, and the river continues in its raging course. Every fiber in my body is burning up as seconds feel like hours. At some point, I completely lost track of time. All I can use as a reference is the destruction the wave causes. It crushes buildings open like they are made of paper, dragging them with its might. Eventually, my sight is entirely blocked by crushed wood and people's stranded belongings drifting in the wall of water.
After what felt like eternity, my sight started to blur. The wall of water engulfed me, and I felt my body being trashed in the current. I was drifting among shattered furniture and clothes. People's whole lives surround me in the chaos, as the darkness entirely takes me.
--------------------
I'm half asleep, pressing my face on the soft fabric of the pillow that Ray sewn for me. The cold foggy breeze enters through the window, and I can feel him beside me pulling more of the covers towards him.
The sun shines on my side of the bed, never failing to wake me up. For a creature of hellfire and brimstone, I'm easily disturbed by light. Rayleigh, on the other hand, could sleep through a tornado.
I open my eyes and look around, to our nest. The small cabinet with our oversized clothes, the wooden figures Ray has carved in his free time, and the collection of stones I have gathered on every trip to the beach. Even the mirror that hangs on the wall, the one we fetch from the neighboring town, since it was the biggest one we could find.
I got a bookshelf months ago, with the few books I've managed to buy. Ray insists that I read his construction manual, but I want something less arduous. The rest of our home can be his small repair shop, but the bedroom is work-free.
Still, I keep one of his books nearby just to see him smile.
I finally stood up from bed, hearing the creaking and groaning that's usual to us. Make my way downstairs to the small kitchen to start breakfast. The small wooden stove he crafted comes to life, and I feel his arms wrap around me.
Well, he tries. We are both too big for a full wrap, but it's still warm. Not a word is exchanged; we just bask in the moment, enjoying our early morning ritual.
That was yesterday; today I stand on the half-flooded ground that we used to call home, and all I see is.
Nothing.
The water dragged it all away, every crushed slab of wood, every nail and plate. Not even a shattered piece of glass remained. The only thing I keep from our old lives is the clothes I'm wearing.
That first pebble. It's tied in a firm knot around my neck.
The water still reaches all the way to my knees, grasping the overhang of my belly. While I soak in the misery, Rayleigh wraps me in a hug, and I can feel the tears rolling down his cheeks.
Not too far away from us are Charlie and Mineral, experiencing their own version of this. Charlie's home—the one his parents built and his brothers grew up in—is now gone.
Alph waits for us at the base of the hill, in the same spot he fished me out of the water that night. The exact spot he saw Ray resuscitate me.
“Any good news?” he asked without looking away from that spot on the ground.
I shake my head, and he sighs. We got together and prepared to make a choice: what to do now?
“This is worse than I imagined, half of Rothwell no longer exists,” Wilkin said.
His voice is cracked, and his eyes are swollen from the tears he’s trying to hold back.
While we looked down at the wrecked town.
“The water dragged most of the farming land; it's more of a swamp than anything now,” Mineral said.
“We had no casualties, but there are at least a couple thousand people needing treatment,” Veneham added.
“Most of the town’s homes are ruined; for all intents and purposes, we are homeless,” I said bitterly.
“Even at our speed, we won't be able to rebuild before winter arrives, let alone for tonight,” Alph said.
“We can look into the refueling stations for rations, and- We might need some extra help.” Wilkin started.
--------------------
We gathered in the pottery shop in the not-flooded side of town for the summoning.
“This is insane…Did you bring the bribe?” I asked.
“Yeah, pretty much everything is here,” Wilkin said, lighting up the ring of candles.
“Does he need to be here for this?” I asked, pointing at bacon.
“He doesn't want to stay alone at home while we summon the spawns of satan,” Veneham replied, trying to take a scone from the pile. I smack his hand away, and he almost growls at me.
“Ey Wilkin, control your mut,” I said.
We used some of our limited stock for this. So, it better work.
“I still can’t believe everyone agreed to this. After the festival, I imagined they would oppose it,” I said.
As soon as the first fire pillar emerges, the pig runs in the opposite direction; maybe calling him bacon wasn't a great idea.
From the fire, a demon with purple skin and tentacles sprouting off his head appeared.
“The stories were real then, the coliseum champion is raising an army on earth,” he said.
Veneham looks to his pig before saying with a shrug, “Yeah, sure.”
“Here is the deal: you help us rebuild our town, in return, you get infinite meal offerings and freedom to roam the town, but if you try to harm anybody, your ass goes back to hell,” Wilkin said.
“By the end of the contract, if you have assimilated with humans or reached Belfort’s size, we can talk about a renewal,” he added.
“Who the hell is Belfort? I hear the food is good, but no way I'm working my ass off for -” the demon said.
I took a scone and shoved it down his throat. Letting his demon senses take care of it. His eyes open widely, but he tries to remain stoic in his posture.
He remained still, too stunned to speak.
“We understand you have pleeeenty of things to do in hell. We can ask someone else for their support,” I added dryly.
“I will take the deal! Just don't send me back,” the demon said.
Wilkin reaches his hand inside the pentagram, and they seal the pact.
“Is that the Coliseum champion? Can you burn down a forest for me? I heard you can spit fire,” A Satyr-looking demon said.
“Are you the secret eighth deadly sin?” A demon covered in red feathers with a lion's head and a snake as a tail said.
“No way, those stories were real! How can I be like you?” A delusional demon looked at Veneham.
You barked at the wrong tree, buddy, I thought. He’s old news; I'm the fatter one now.
By the sixtieth demon, the sun has already set, and Wilkin is at the brink of collapse from all the pact magic.
Instead of going to work, we decide on our accommodations. The undagamed areas of town would serve as temporary residences for the elderly and children with their mothers. At the same time, the rest of us stay in improvised tents by the sawmill in the depths of the woods.
Ray and I work together to put together a semi-decent tent. We found some spare wood for supports and the most flimsy floorboard we could find from the wrecked town, covering everything with a raggedy cloth and some patches.
It's not fancy, but even when our make-shift bed of cushions and leftover wood snapped on the first night. Even when the wood’s humidity seeped into my bedsheets every night, I would rather stay and sleep here another hour than work with those rascals.
Mineral took any demon with skills revolving around nature or who could manage animals in the fields as his team. They are making sure we all have food to feed a gluttonous population, plus a new army of demons.
After curing the injured, Veneham took his massive fan club and started making materials to build the new houses.
And I ended up with the team of demons who had no skills or didn't have a boner for Mister Colleseum champion as the construction team. They can’t be trusted with anything for two seconds before an argument breaks out. Who can carry the most? Who can dig the deepest? Who can punch the hardest?
For all the time they spent competing in hell, you would imagine they would have had enough. But demon competitiveness has no boundaries.
Thankfully, Alph decided to join me; he works fast as always, but whenever things get boring, he bounces to hang with the humans. And things get boring here a lot lately; we are only draining the streets one bucket of water at a time.
With all of that in mind. I can't help but yearn for the extra hour or two of sleep.
Okay, a frog just jumped into my ear. Fuck this, I'm up, I’M UP!
“Quit messing around, Bel,” Ray said with a chuckle before giving me a loving kiss.
What starts as a single peck on the lips continues. Our eyes meet, and he leans in again. His hands wrap around me, grabbing my love handles and shaking them tenderly. Even under the weight of my gut, I can feel blood rushing to my dick. And from the hunger in his embrace, I can tell he feels the same way.
I don't have to say it, but cloth walls and wooden beams don't give the best privacy. So, we have been forced to refrain from any action since the night of the flood. And changing from three sessions of food and sex per day to just lingering kisses is making us go mad.
My hands explore his body, letting my lust guide me. His perky moobs bounce at my touch, and his ass is so big it can’t be encompassed with just my hands. My tongue continues exploring the inside of his mouth.
“Okay, we have to stop. I'm at my limit, and I can’t cream these pants,” he said, parting away from me.
I let out a heavy sigh and get into the tiring hassle of putting on my clothes. At our size, putting on pants was a pain; now imagine doing it on a mossy floor and a glorified tarp for a bed as support.
“I need these new guys to work faster. I can't stand another day of this, let alone another month. When do you think the new blueprints will be ready?” I asked, fighting against my shorts.
As the handyman that he is, Rayleigh was more than excited to teach the ropes to the new guys. But most of his days were busy taking requests for people's homes and adding them to the ever-expanding master blueprints.
Yeah, the new homes he is planning will be bigger and better than anything we had before, but it's my ass who has to build them in the meantime.
While the humans plan the new town's layout and home designs, my team and I work on draining the water and cleaning off the disaster zone.
“They should be ready soon. I'm sorry for the delay, Bel. But you know how everyone gets at the prospect of an upgrade. I think they justify the tragedy in their minds as long as they can get something better to replace what's lost,” he said, putting his notes in a carrier bag.
“You and them, you can't fulfill every wish, Ray, and nothing will replace what’s been lost. Right now, we should focus on delivering something before winter,” I said.
“I know love, I will have them ready soon. I promise,” he replied, giving me another kiss.
-------------------------------------
We continue working on the flooded areas of town. We barely finished draining the streets, and I can say goodbye to muddy water for a while. Oh, I have never missed the clear blue sea waters of Motu o Sāmoa more in my life.
The task in our list of duties is to fill the massive chasm that saved my life and now ruins it.
We gathered at the riverside, digging earth and rocks to dump at the fissures while also redefining the riverbanks. Just in case another sudden rain decides to pass us by. Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl.
I drag my feet across the road between the river and the chasm. Six sacks on each shoulder, and sweat rolling down my forehead. The load is light as a feather for me, but the fucking walk is killing me. There must be a better way to do this.
My steps are slow and laborious as I swing in a wide waddle; my gut slaps my knees on each step, giving a rhythm to my march. The sacks of dirt packed to the brim look comically solid compared to my many rolls, jiggling under the weight.
My eyes try to look down at the path, but between my double chin and my shelf of a chest, I can't look much farther down.
While I try to focus on dumping this as soon as possible, a demon with three rottweiler heads over a muscular physique passes by me running. He has thick patches of fur that cover his back and arms. I wonder how he did with the heat back in hell.
“Hey, boss, keep up the pace. You are slowing down the road,” he said with a laugh.
Hagen, the last descendant of the Cerberus house. Egocentric as he is impulsive. Every day is another chance for him to try to show off his superior status. But besides having the record for more accidents in a single day, I can't imagine what he is so proud of.
He keeps looking back at me with a shit eating grin when he crashes into a couple of demons. The two sacks Hagen carried spilled over the road
“Ey, keep up with the pace, beetle boy,” Hagen shouted.
Zigurd, one of the demons he crashed with, took his empty sack and replied, “Watch where you are going next time, and would it kill you to do your job quietly. We can hear you laughing all the way to the chasm.”
He has long, thin horns on his forehead and a thick, black armor that covers his entire body. His face has two sets of eyes and fangs that flash out of his mouth even when it's closed. He was a renowned soldier during the war, known for his determination to see a task done according to plan.
He is also quiet and reserved, which makes Hagen pick on him nonetheless.
“If you could use your little antennas for something, you would just get out of my way,” Hagen replied.
The second demon who walked by Zigurd finally spoke, “And I told you to quit it with the beetle names, unless you want me to show you that family crest of yours doesn't work for anything here.”
Alioth, one of the six generals of Lucifer. With a bat´s face and thick grey fur covering his heavy, muscular body, and a crown of six horns adorning his head. One of Lucifer’s most loyal subjects, and the general Zigurd served under.
Even when he knows we have the same pact terms here on earth, he keeps trying to boss around the other demons.
Every demon on the road looks at me with wide eyes as I lumber my way there. Reach them just in time to prevent a stupid fight.
“Alioth, this is not Lucifer’s army, you can't solve everything by killing it, and Hagen, how many times do I have to tell you to pay attention to what's literally in front of you!” I growled.
I don't drop the sacks on my shoulders, dreading having to pick them back up. So while I shout at them, my face is mashed between my thick cheeks and the payload.
“Now pick this up before someone else trips over your mess,” I added.
The General’s eyes glare at me before he replies, “My apologies, Belfort, now if you excuse us.”
He took Zigurd with him, and they resumed their walk back to the riverside.
“I can't believe I’ve been reduced to following the orders of a sack of lard,” the general muttered to Zigurd, knowing damn well I could hear him.
“It beats following the orders of a human,” his soldier replied.
“Not by much, my friend, not by much,” Alioth replied.
I debate the reasons I haven't sent some of these guys back to hell, but I keep coming back to Rayleigh's words.
“If I sent Veneham back to hell when he arrived in town, we wouldn't have met. Sometimes you have to tolerate a real pain in the ass to reach something special.”
With a sigh, I get ready to help Hagred to his feet when a dark figure rushes to his aid.
Alcor, a demon with the head of a crow and jet black feathers all over his body. He has long and scrawny legs with sharp, menacing talons to match. He used to perform before Lucifer’s court as a dramatic artist.
He stretches his wing to help Hagen up, and the three-headed demon takes it reluctantly.
“Hagred, you can’t expect someone to save your ass every time you get into an accident,” the crow demon said.
“Pfft, whatever. No son of Cerberus needs a savior,” Hagen replied bitterly.
“Oh sure, no need in a fight with one of Lucifer’s generals. I swear, one of these days, someone will send you to the deepest circle of hell with a single punch,” Alcor retorted.
Alcor brushes the dirt off Hagen and then bows in front of me and says, “I'm deeply thankful for your help, boss. Please forgive my friend's carelessness.”
“It's okay, Alcor. No need for so much formality,” I replied.
The crow demon perks up like a spring with a broad smile as he says, “Oh, Belfort, you really are a forgiving boss.”
“Suure, Hagen, just get this cleanup and please get moving, you are clogging up the road,” I said with a grin.
His three heads turned red, but before he could get himself into another fight, Alcor pulled him to get started with work.
By the end of our workday, I'm not the only one exhausted. The new guys continue pushing each other in their constant need for competition.
Thankfully, Zackary and the rest of the townsfolk make sure we have a proper feast to recover.
They use the pottery’s oven as the de facto kitchen for the town and the street in front of it as the town hall, and as our dining room every night.
They took several of the wash-up tables and chairs from the wrecked inn and fixed them for us. They gathered pieces of shattered glass and welded them into lamps, and even carved plates, utensils, and cups from wood.
Every night, some of the townsfolk will join the new guys and us for dinner. After the festival fiasco, some of them have reservations about the newcomers. Nonetheless, they all ensure these moments are possible.
With so many spices and ingredients lost in the flood, we had to work with whatever survived in the farming lands until we could go and trade with neighboring towns. So we expected simpler dishes than those we are used to. But, as always, Rothwell and its cooks have surprises in store.
Seared meat, stew, glazed vegetables, and buttery bread stuffed with mushrooms. Our eyes glisten at the display of food, and our stomachs growl like beasts.
“Zackary, you have to tell me how you guys are making these meals possible,” Wilkin asked with joy.
“It's all about technique, my man, technique,” Zackary said with a grin.
As Zackary starts to ramble on about how he cooks every dish, Veneham doesn't wait for anyone else to sit down. He just snatches a plate of meat and starts eating from it without a care in the world.
Not wanting to be left without a portion, I race for my seat and get started as well.
“Yeez, isn't there enough food for everyone?” A demon with dragon features said.
“Yeah, man, every night is the same thing,” A demon made of a cluster of tentacles replied.
Charlie sat beside them and took a plate just as fast, then started eating before adding, “And like every night, you guys will miss out on something if you don't hurry, ha ha.”
Mineral and Zackary distribute enough food to satiate even our appetites, but while the new guys argue over who can carry more stones across the river. We are more concerned with the actual test of strength, who can eat the most per night!
If I can keep stuffing my gut like this every night, maybe I can withstand this for a while longer.
Hi everyone, I hope you are enjoying the story so far. The following chapters will take a little longer to update, but I hope you stay for the ride.
Damn, since when was this town so big? I'm sweating like a hog already, and the fire is nowhere to be seen.
My thighs rub against each other, making the heat down there burn even hotter. Between my meaty pecs and my belly I look like a bull running down the festival.
“Hey, Veneham, do you need a drink? we have some fresh Ale ready!” Someone in a stand offers from afar.
“No time! Sorry fresh Ale,” I replied
I stopped and gasped for air at the tent where Charlie left his brothers. This was the place where the smell came from, but no sign of fire or smoke in sight.
The kids play around without a care in the world, but the scent of Hellfire is all the more pungent. That's when I see a glow at the other end of the tent, a flickering of light behind it. So small it's almost invisible.
I rush as fast as my waddling thighs allow me, and I lay eyes on someone.
A kid.
He is crouched behind the tent, covering something with his hands.
“Hey, what are you doing there?” I said.
The kid turned around quickly, his hands closing on whatever he had. My voice startled him, but he recovered fast and smiled at me.
“I'm sorry, Sir, I was exploring, but I will get back in the tent now,” the kid said.
In a split second, he turned around, ready to leave.
The smell of hellfire dissipated. We have a sneaky weasel here.
“Wait!” I said sternly.
He scanned around us like a cornered animal.
“Cool it. I just want to see what you have there,” I said, stretching my arm to grab his hands.
He struggled, pulling away from me for a second until he snapped.
His fists opened, and a hellish flame burst out. He grabbed it as it formed a crimson lance that he swung to my face.
Letting go of him, I dashed back and avoided the lance's tip by a hair.
Landing on my ass, I saw the kid in front of me transform. Gone was the scared kid; in his place was a tall and slender Djinn with striking yellow eyes, silver hair and sky blue skin.
“I knew it! I could recognize the stench of hellfire anywhere,” I said.
I haven’t seen a Djinn in ages. What is he doing in the human realm?
“Getting your attention was the plan, it took you long enough to get here,” the demon said, stepping closer to me and drawing his lance.
I tried to get back on my feet, but my stuffed middle made it more than a challenge. The Djinn laughed while I struggled, and I knew I would make a trophy with his head once I was done with him.
The Djinn gets distracted by the pig squeal coming from within the tent. I took the moment to build some momentum and get back up.
He noticed and rushed forward with his lance. With a flickered my fingers, my axe appeared in a fire blaze. My arms moved fast enough to intercept his attack just before he could impale me right in the chest.
He pushed with all his might, trying to finish me fast. We struggled for a minute until I let out a roar and diverted the lance away.
He was caught off guard, and his weapon got lodged on the ground behind him. I rushed forward, delivering my signature fast strikes. My fat rolls and the extra flesh under my arms got in the way of the attacks, making my moves imprecise. If that wasn't bad enough, the stupid run here drained me. I can tell my movements are sluggish.
I try as hard as I can to deliver a solid blow but he manages to evade all of them.
“This is pathetic, you really fatten yourself up like a pig for slaughter. It makes waiting this long worth it,” the demon said.
He took a leap kicking me right in the chest. Some of my strength left me as the hit connected. Stumbling back I managed to keep myself on my feet.
“I love my fans, but a stalker? Since when?” I said between panted breaths.
“I've been here since the beginning you big red idiot,” he replied with a cocky grin.
Wilkin is the only person dumb enough to call me that since I was summoned. Somehow he’s been here the entire time.
“Only one human in all of Rothwell knew how to summon us,” I added.
“Nobody said anything about being summoned,” he replied.
He started circling me like a predator sizing his prey.
“Unlike you, I wasn't summoned by some fool. The energy from your summoning made a breach in the magic that bound me to the land. And after god knows how long, I was finally released!” he said.
He stopped in front of me again, his face filled with bitterness as he continued, “Sadly that means I don't have a contract to keep me in this realm. So, I need someone’s energy to keep this physical form; or else I’ll vanish to the earth again,”
“Aye, let me finish-” he said as I struck him.
I don’t have time for this shit.
“I’ve waited a long time to tell you this, you will listen! I was in no shape to stand in a fight with a colosseum champion, but when I noticed you were fattening up so nicely. I saw my opportunity. All I have to do is kill you and become this town’s new hero,” he said, blocking my attacks.
With his monologue out of the way, he charged at me. His movements were fast and calculated, I tried to use my usual moves. But close combat is no longer my forte when I can't bend my arms past a certain angle. Thankfully my extra heft reduces the impact of his attack, take that sucker.
Making some space between us is my best bet. We’ve been fighting for a couple of minutes, and I barely managed to deliver a proper blow. I won't last like this for much longer.
He gripped his lance tighter as he approached me, but I was prepared. With a strong throw I launch my axe his way. He manages to avoid it by a hair and watches in shock as the weapon cuts a row of trees like butter. The Axe trajectory takes a curve coming back to me before I catch it.
Even I was surprised by how far the axe went. I learned this move ages ago but never made it fly that long. Not to mention, most people die before I use it.
Could it be-? No, this is the result of all the training.
He glared with pure rage as he flew to me full force. Our weapons clash and I struggle to keep his blade away from my face. He looks confident until I lean forward, putting my body’s weight into the attack. With greeted teeth he pushes again but I don't budge.
“Why can’t you just die already, you fatass!” he said, pressing his body against me.
As soon as our skins touched, I could feel my energy slipping away from me. Even my disguise veil started to flicker, as he continued to suck away.
“You cheating bastard,” I said, using all of my strength to push him away.
His attack was much stronger, projecting us both against the tent where the kids played. We struggled mid air as the fabric blinded us both. Splintered wood and screams drowned our ears as we crashed on the floor.
The both of us stood up, looking at our surroundings. We landed in the middle of the festival street. With most people at the eating competition, the streets are half deserted but there are enough humans to notice our presence. The cloth that covered us caught fire from the Djinn Lance, making our presence all the more noticeable.
“Fire, get some water!” a man yelled.
“Forget the water, there are monsters! Run for your life,” said a stall owner.
I look down at myself feeling the color drain from my face. The veil around me crumbled, and my wings were out for everyone to see.
His jaw slackened as the people ran, reaching out with his hands to them.
“No wait. It's not what it looks like,” he said desperately.
The cat is out of the bag, this is the worst case scenario. A million thoughts flood my head but one pops over the rest. I have to kill this bastard.
“Cut it out asshole, keep your eyes on your enemy,” I said.
“You-” he replied, turning back at me.
He charged forward, getting some cuts on my left arm. I tried to evade his moves again, but they were more erratic and harder to read. He became reckless in desperation, with attacks flying off to people as they ran away. My focus diverted to intercepting them.
As if this wasn't bad enough, his fire-up lance cut through tents and wooden stands, igniting them in a blink. The decorations Wilkin put up last night spread the fire, turning the festival grounds into a miniature hell site.
“You had your chance to live here. Do you have any idea what you just started?” he said.
What is he talking about? I need to finish this before the rest of town comes back. I threw my axe at him and he avoided it before rushing for me.
“Once the word spreads that demons lived among humans, paranoia will explode. Neighbors will suspect each other, then there will be witch hunts to find us. My chances of a relaxed existence are over, all because of you!” he said.
As my axe returned it slashed his back, making him stumble to the ground. He avoided the brunt of the attack but screamed in pain from the gaping wound.
“You really thought you could kill me so easily?” I chuckled.
“Shut it, pig” he replied, shaking his head before standing up.
“Let me show you what all this strength can do,” I said.
Getting beside a burning stand of friend veggies, I bent down to grab the wooden base and lifted the structure over my head. He looked in disbelief as I threw the fully loaded stand his way. Thankfully
“This is no hindrance to me, but the source of my power, idiot,” I laughed.
He tried to avoid the massive stand but as it crashed beside him, the oil inside ignited and blew. Shards of glass and splinter wood fire against him, leaving him a mess of cuts and bruises.
He panted for air, rising from the carnage, looking down at his body. Who can blame him, he now must smell like a fried asparagus.
Maybe my body can’t fight in the same way it used to, that doesn’t mean I can’t kick some major ass. As long as I have this heft, I won’t lose to a twig like him.
We move through the streets of the festival in a frenetic hunt. He fires one erratic attack after another, while I throw every wooden beam my way to disorient him. When he gets too close to me, I shove my gut against him, firing him away.
“I can’t believe a fucking swine is giving me a run for my money, uugh,” he said, falling to his knees and grabbing the sides of his head.
I got ready to launch my final attack when he stood up and reached for my throat. His touch drains more of my power but I shake him off with a swing of my axe.
“I will use all of your strength and take everything you hold dear. If I can’t have this, no one can,” he said.
Our dance around the festival continues as he tries to get his hands on me. The fire continues spreading around the festival and with the corner of my eye, I see Wilkin and the workers trying to extinguish it two streets ahead.
In my distraction, the Djinn grabbed my arm and I felt light-headed. Fuck I can’t let him near them. Suddenly the idea pops in my head.
I grab the hand of the pest and launch him with all my strength across the street in the direction of the outskirts. He flew off a few meters before redirecting my way.
My step feels lighter and I recover from his last touch, but something feels off. I scan myself for injuries but don’t see any significant open wounds. Whatever, I have to focus on this.
He continued to get his hands on me, drying my energy more. But I noticed something; his movements started to become more sluggish. As we finally reached the farmlands, it dawned on me.
He is not only draining me of energy, but my weight too. No wonder it’s been easier to run all the way here. I looked down in horror as I noticed at least a hundred of my pounds abandoned me.
The Djinn got close again to grab me by the arm but I swung my axe, almost cutting his arm. Damn it, why didn’t I notice earlier. Regaining this will take me forever. His face had a shit eating grin as I saw where my missing pounds went.
The scrawny fighter who followed me here has filled out. His pecs have softened and started resting on his stomach, which bulges into a proper belly. His arms have thickened with the excess fat pulling them down, and his rib muscles soften till all the definitions are lost. I would've been impressed by his gains if the fucker didn't stole it.
He looks more capable but definitely slower. From his expression, it seems like he hasn't noticed yet, so I didn't give it a second thought and ran for the Carters' farmhouse. We ran out of the festival grounds, going across the winter crops and tall grass.
“What's the matter, Veneham? Bored of the festival? Let me make it more interesting for you,” he said.
I turned around just in time to see that the worm muttered a chant under his breath. A pentagram formed on the floor, with hell fire spewing upwards. It's impossible; only mortals can summon other demons, right? At this point, I'm not even sure.
In the blink of an eye, I was face to face with a wild hell bison. His nostrils flared with steam and fire right before me, and I took a second to register what happened.
The bison doesn't give much time to think about the situation. He trots towards the festival, leaving a trail of blaze in his path. I can’t let that thing stomping around in a rampage.
The Djinn gets in my way with a crazy laugh, before saying “Keep your eyes on the enemy, remember?”
The fight raged on, while the crops fired up around us.
“Getting tired already? You’re getting weaker, sloppier and soon I will have your head,” the Djinn said.
He wasn't completely wrong, each of my blows became more accurate, but they lacked that strength from before. This needs to finish this fast before I end up like the beanpole I was.
“What? angry that the power you built up for a year is now mine? Just you wait, I will drain you in a second,” he added.
He might have my weight, but he certainly isn't used to it. His center of gravity moved as he struggled to keep a footing like an amateur. Finally he stumbled on a rock behind him and I delivered a fatal blow across his chest. Blood gushes out and he falls to his back, his eyes are transfixed on the sky above.
I turn around and look up for the Bison. It wasn’t far from here.
I have to get it under control before-
Something pushes me from behind and we roll down the crop line. When I opened my eyes, I saw that we landed closer to the Bison. Moreover, that dirty Djinn has his hands tight around my throat. His body continued to expand as my energy flowed to him.
I could hear his clothes stretched against his ballooning body. Rips started to plague the patch up cloth, as his belly pushed against me. Then the love handles grew wider than his shoulders. The two boulders size buttcheeks weighed down harder agaisnt me, and they only inflated by the second. His weight pressed against my chest, making breathing even more difficult. The blubber in his body wobbled as I struggled to push him off of me. The worst part is filling my own body shrinking under his mass, feeling his body slowly envelop me. Harder to lift, harder to push out, harder to subjugate. I’m the one who should flatten this runt, not the other way around.
Finally the remaining clothes shreds in one sudden blast, leaving his naked body exposed. But what shocked me was seeing the wound I just delivered him healing up in front of my eyes.
“What are you looking at? I’m fucking chiseled compared to you!” He said.
With a laugh he added, “Thanks for the patch up sucker, did I mention that I can copy demons abilities?”
I can’t let it end here. I won’t go back to hell for fucks sake!
That’s when we heard a crash. The Bison's body came crashing back, pushing us apart. The animal stood up fast, looking confused.
“Sorry, I didn't see it coming,” said a voice.
“Mineral, how can you miss a giant hell bison?” someone else said.
“Guys, focus. Incoming!” another voice said.
The Bison tackled forward just to be intercepted by- is that fucking Mineral?!
Right in front of my eyes, Mineral intercepted the wild animal with his bare hands. While Alph rushes towards the fired up crop line; making a sonic boom that extinguishes it in a second. What shocked me the most was watching Belfort move his arms and controlling the water in the irrigation system. Whips of water stretched from the canal towards the Bison cooling him down while keeping it in place.
I haven't seen these idiots in months, and they somehow showed up at the right time. I was grateful to see them again. I can't let them know I just thought that. Ever.
The Djinn came back to attack and I refocused on my own battle. He must have absorbed half of my size by now, but in his shorter body, it looked all the more cumbersome. His belly overhang sits low on his lap, almost touching his knees. His moobs got in the way of his attacks and his legs struggled like a newborn buck.
We both stop in our tracks when the Bison falls to the ground with a sigh. Mineral scratched his ear lovingly as it rested on the patchy field. That man is crazy, but I surely owe him a pint once this is over.
“Eyes on me big guy,” The Djinn said angrily, lashing my arm with his lance.
“You motherfucker, die already!” I shouted, delivering a blow to his lance that snapped it in half.
“Wait no-, I need more time,” he said.
He gripped the half with the blade and left the other on the floor.
“This is nothing, I will kill you even with my last breath,” He said, jumping at me.
An arrow of water smacks him in the back and he lands on my chest. Taking more of my weight and healing the fresh bruise he had on his back.
“Need some help?” Alph said as he appeared in front of me.
“No, I can handle this and get your grubby hands away,” I said, slashing the Djinn away.
He stumbled back until he crashed with Alph. The Djinn grabbed onto him, healing up but making his belly even heavier.
“Wait a minute, is he- ?”
“A Djinn?” Said mineral hitting the Djinn off Alph’s front with a punch.
That blow could have broken his jaw for all I know. The Djinn grabbed Belfort with super speed just as he showed up.
“Get your hands off of my you moron!” he said, kicking him away.
The Djinn looked dazed as he moved his arms. Tiny streams of water came to push him back to his feet.
It didn't matter how many abilities he copied; this fight was over.
With every instance of him touching us he grew larger and larger. His rolls exploded in size, pushing his arms upwards. His belly hangs, dragged over the floor and his neck disappears in a ring of fat.
“I can't die, I won't go back. I can't go back to that loneliness,” the Djinn said as he lumbered towards me.
Only by his demon strength could he continue to carry that bloated body towards me. His legs were so full of fat they could barely bend any more. Each step shook the earth, making his entire body jiggle and bounce dramatically. Even his fingers looked like sausages as they reached for me.
With a roar I slash the front of the Djinn, sending him to the floor. He lands on his titanic ass with a loud thud.
“Wait, Doreon!” Alph said.
I look at Alph confused while the Djinn struggles to get back up.
“He is a friend, we met in the woods months ago. Please Veneham, let me talk to him,” Alph said.
“Alph, are you crazy? Look at all the chaos he has caused. We have to put an end to this,” Belfort said.
“We can afford him a goodbye at least,” said Mineral.
Alph's eyes suddenly fill with tears as blood gushes out of the Djinn’s wound.
Between a full ton of blubber and anger, I couldn’t ignore the obvious. If he’s me from back then. In his circumstance wouldn't I’ve done the same?
It was everyone's effort that helped me grow into who I am now. And I robbed them of the same opportunity—not only my friends or the menace, but everyone.
I know what I have to do, it's not Belfort’s duty or Alph’s but mine.
Taking a step closer, I took the Djinn's hand before he lost consciousness. He opened his eyes and healed up fast. His stomach rolled forward taking over more ground, getting larger than his body. His ass continued to expand, lifting him higher off the ground. His moobs grew, pushing his arms forever in place. Even his legs ballooned uselessly, stuck in the same position. He whimpered and moaned, trying to stand back up.
He was alive, but he would lie on the floor unable to move. Likely Never again.
Alph looked at my shrunken body and gasped realizing what just happened.
“Veneham, are you okay?” he asked, concerned.
“You look sickly,” he added.
“I'm all right, buddy. Talk to your friend. Just don't touch him,” I said, crashing on my back.
The sky filled my view with the cloud of smoke rising from the fire still going at the festival. I could hear my friends calling for me but their voices became quiet. After that everything went dark.
***
“The fire-”
I took deep breaths taking in my surroundings. I was back in my room. Wilkin is sleeping in a chair beside my bed. Right in front of him, the pig snored quietly. But most importantly there is no fire.
The most furious hunger pang of my life strikes me. I groan in pain until my nose catches the smell of food. Like the starved animal I was, I sniffed around until my eyes landed on my bedside table. Somebody left a basket filled with scones.
In a swift move I bend over to the basket. That's when it hit me. I can bend forward…there's nothing to stop me. Looking down I saw the remnants of my body.
By the grace of my ass, I was back to square one with only a small pouch left.
The sign of all my hard work vanished in a single evening. The work of the entire town- Oh no the town. There must be people or buildings dismantled…
They saw who I am.
How did I let this happen to me again, god damn it! I had it all. For once in my life I was fully happy. To get everything stripped from me, must be some twisted trick of god. No wonder he let me stay for this long without intervention. This was just another part of his torture.
Soon the mob will come and my days will be counted. No- even worst, I will return to Hell for an eternity of hunger and lava pits. No feasts with Wilkin or the drinks at Zackary’s. Just lava and rock and-
“Veneham!” Wilkin said, throwing himself at me.
I flinched for a second, I forgot he was there.
The pig oinked happily trying to climb up the bed. Great, even the pig looks bigger than me now. Suddenly I heard Wilkin’s sobs against my neck.
“He, hey, l’m- okay,” I lied, tapping his back.
“I'm so glad you are awake,” he said, stepping away from me.
Not a second later we heard the door downstairs slamming, followed by a storm of loud steps leading up to my room. I recoiled, dragging Wilkin with me, back against the bed headboard.
“Veneham wait, it must be-”
“Is he awake?!” Alph said, bursting the door open.
Belfort pushed him out of the way and my room flooded with the staring eyes of Charlie, his brothers and my demon friends.
“Would someone care to explain to me, what the fuck is going on?” I yelled.
A knocked downstairs made a shiver run down my spine.
Alph dashed to the window peeking out, he quickly drop to the floor with an expression of horror in his face.
“I think the entire town is downstairs,” he said.
Wilkin stood up first, marching to the door.
“We shouldn't leave them waiting,” he said, before going downstairs.
I was the last one to come down. Every step on the wooden stair felt like eternity, as images of what's to come flooded my head. They will call me a monster. Throw rocks and disgusting vegetables at me. What if I run? We could start over somewhere else. No- nothing matches up to this place. Even more, what Djinn said is likely true. Most likely word has already spread of our little fiasco yesterday. For all I know they could be debating if Wilkin, Charlie or even Rayleigh is a demon. No place is safe now.
My body had moved all the way to the front door, but refused to open it. My hand was tightly wrapped around the doorknob but it wouldn't budge.
“Veneham,” Wilkin said.
I flinched as he placed his hand over mine.
“I'm not bailing on you, okay?” he said.
I chuckled nervously and replied, “Don't get ahead of yourself little guy, I'm the only one that can bail in this agreement,”
We both laugh for a second. I don't know how he does it, but he radiated calmness for that moment. As he turns the knob I feel my hand move with his. And just like that we ventured outside with my wings and tail out.
Rayleigh was the person knocking the door, he was sizing me up and down like a piece of meat in a slaughterhouse.
The crowd was dead silence after that, everyone looked at me with wide eyes. Some of them gasped, other whispered among one another, but nobody moved an inch. At least they didn't had pitchforks and torches. You know a mob means business when they bring fire at noon.
“So it's true, you are now a shrimp,” Rayleigh said.
“Don’t try me Rayleigh,” I replied.
“Okay cool it. I don't know why they keep choosing me for these things. Besides I already told them, you look fine. Well, Uninjured,” he rambled.
“Rayleigh, you are not making sense,” I replied.
“Everyone was worried about your sorry ass, and wanted to come check on you. They brought infusions and- crap, like chicken heads. We don't know what helps a demon to heal,” he added.
Wait, are they for real?
The rest of our group rushed out pushing me out of the way, looking shocked to the crowd.
I was holding the tears from flowing out of me. How can they do something like this?
Wilkin came behind me patting my back and saying, “doing okay doc?”
“Of course,” I said, feeling the weight lifting from my shoulders.
The crowd came crashing at us, with questions and the thousand home remedies they brought.
“Is red your skin colour or is this like a massive bruise? We might need more ointment,” a woman said, poking my sides.
“Can you breathe fire? Oh that's just a dragons things…Do you know any dragon?” a young man said enthusiastically.
“I thought you would be an orc,” a guy said, sounding disappointed.
We spent a long time answering their questions, of course they were idiotic. But it's my job to guide these people in the right way. What should have been the best day of the entire year turned into a massive crash fire. But today, I couldn't be more happy to be alive. These people I call my own, have shown me once again their generosity.
And that makes the many sacrifices taken, all the more worth it.
“The guys and I knew you were okay, but we have to take you out for a meal mate. You are looking hungry,” one of the lumberjacks said.
I also have to regain my perfect physique, asap! I won't let all of these small fries surpass me in my territory.
There is still a lot that needs to be done. The festival grounds are a mess. People need to be treated for their injuries, and the crops land are burned down. Even with four demons at hand, this will be a hard task.
But who is better suit to fix up this place than us?
Ready for a new beginning?
Editor: @bee-wg
<<First Chapter / <Previous Chapter / Next Chapter >>
My belly rumbles angrily, waking me from my dream. I roll around the bed, hoping to go back to sleep; the bed creaks and groans with my movement. Loud piece of junk. Wilkin needs to get a new one.
Between my belly and the bed, crying for mercy, I finally scrape the blankets off me.
“Fine, I will get you some food,” I say to my gut.
Food… Oh shit the festival is today!
Just thinking of what’s in store leaves me drooling, so I put on some clean clothes and run downstairs, shaking the entire mansion.
The street looks deserted on my way there, the few people still on this side of town are walking to the event as well. At least I'm not the only one who overslept today.
Something pulls on my leg as I walk, Davie, to be precise. I pick him up by the leg, and he laughs and asks me to play with him.
“What are you doing here all alone, little menace?” I ask, using my growly demon voice.
“I'm going to beat you at everything today!” he said laughing as I shook him around.
Looking around, I see Charlie running with Eliah.
“Thanks for catching Davie. He ran off with the crowd,” said Charles, trying to catch his breath.
“It would be nice if you don’t throw them around like a lasso,” he added.
“They seem to like it,” I say, grabbing Eliah and shaking them in front of Charlie. The two kids agreed with me. Sadly for them, their brother was undeterred. After taking them on my shoulders we got going.
My brain shut off at the scent of smoke and open roast from the festival grounds. The aromas from everyone's cooking saturated the air, making my mouth water even from here.
It only took us a couple steps to face the grand archway welcoming us to the festival.
While a crowd of outsiders and locals gathered in front of the entrance, I marvelled at the freshly harvested wheat, acorns, and autumn leaves decorating the archway.
“This thing is huge, I wonder how they got it here?” Eliah asked.
“Yeah I wonder?” I said sarcastically, flexing my arm.
Charlie laughed and said, “Never took you as the decorating type,”
“Nah, that was Wilkin’s doing. He insisted on leaving that to the last minute to ensure they wouldn't wither.” I replied.
That show off decided to go all out with the decorations. From wreaths interconnecting roofs, to the little carved turnips with silly faces on most doors and windows.
Charlie told me people use them to scare spirits away during this season. It's a stupid concept, but the kids seem to love them, so I give them a pass.
Speak of the devil. The little rats kept sliding off of my sweaty shoulder, so I released them.
The streets are filled with other kids running around, jesters doing magic tricks and telling jokes. Even troubadours playing music with some taking on the street as their dance floor.
Of course not everyone has the energy for all that frolicing, I’m getting tired just looking at them. Thankfully every other meter has benches with shade to laze down, I already had a good workout walking here, we don’t need more of that in the festival.
“Hey new guy, stop dancing there like a fool and come get a beer, you look famished,” said a lady at a food stand.
The guy in question stops in his tracks and fetches a huge pint, “Haha ya people in Rothwell are too inviting,” then he chugged it on the spot. A crowd of men sat under the tent beside the stand, cheering for him to chug faster.
We joined in, taking drinks of our own and letting the kids play by the shade.
“Shouldn't you be looking for Wilkin?” said Charlie before sipping from his beer.
I chug mine followed by a burp and reply “He will be fine,” He probably won’t be, but I’ll be worked to death if he finds me now, I want to take it easy today.
He chuckled then we saw a determined Wilkin cutting through the crowd of drinking men. I’m pretty sure I didn’t cast a summoning spell.
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you. We need your help,” Wilkin said, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me.
“Wait-but- I…” I guess that was the end of my relaxation.
We had installed small stands around town, just with the essential food for a refueling station. They became popular quickly and we doubled their number in less than a month.
Of course it would be downright inhumane not to have a few at the festival ground in case of emergency. I set up the pieces of equipment for the stand, and brought a few essentials for ingredients like stew, roast, skewered meat, pastries, bread, pudding, cheese, nuts, beer and fruits to start.
A group of humans laugh among each other as they approach the stand.
“People here are insane, how can they eat so much?” one of them said.
“Can you imagine people back home eating this much?” another one added.
“No kidding. We would be blubber balls by the end of the week. No wonder everyone here looks like a cow,” one of them said with a laugh.
“Eyy guys, bet I can find something you like here,” I said.
“I doubt it, we don’t like greasy rubbish,” one of the brat replies, eyeing the food. His eyes linger on the glistening meat a little too long.
“Here, have some deep-fried turkey legs,” I said, waving it in front of his face.
The other friends continued laughing, but I could see some of them swallowing drool when they smelled the meat. So I shoved the leg into the guy's hands.
“Try the fish and chips, too,” I said, pushing the dish to another one.
“More butter? No thanks," a taller one replied. But he caught the fish dripping with butter with no sign of giving it back.
“We aren't paying for any of this,” he said.
“It's free. Help yourself out,” I said. His resolve broke once his stomach growled so loud everyone could hear.
“We don't want any of this, but we won’t waste food so callously,” he said, rushing away with his friends and their loot.
Stands like this only have a humble amount of food since we’re stretching our supplies. But they are worth it in the end, since it helped the skinny people in town to reach a healthier weight like me. They just need a little guidance to see it.
“Wait, what are you doing? I'm not done yet!” I said to Wilkin as he nudged me away.
Wilkin knows I have a certain effect on a crowd, especially on the visitors. After all, they haven't seen someone this strong and influential in their lives. So, he wants me to be a mascot at the events.
By the time we reached the crop competition, a small parade had formed behind us. Once we entered the tent, cold air permeated the space.
A few weeks ago Wilkin came up with this idea to keep the crops fresh during the event. So he made me dig holes that would be filled with ice.
The tent has rows of tabletops filled with carrots, turnips, pomegranates, onions, lemons, and other crops.
The crops take up most of the venue's space, except for a small stage at the other end of the tent, which has a sign that says, “First crop competition of Rothwell.”
“Well, let's get to work,” said Wilkin with his journal.
They got to work fast, reviewing details I wouldn't care to see in vegetables, their colours, shapes, size, and texture. No wonder Wilkin doesn't want me as a judge. I would give the price to the biggest cabbage and call it a day.
People flowed into the tent for the results. Wilkin announced the winner while I gawked at the biggest pumpkin I have ever seen. But who cares about the rabbit food? I'm off to get some meat.
The moment we step outside I could feel the blazing heat of the sun right above us, damn we are suppoused to be in fall. We hurry to take cover in the next event’s tent.
The livestock competition had a bigger plot of land. A canopy tent covered the fenced animals, granting them some shade. The animals lazily rubbed against me while Wilkin and the judges worked.
Amongst the animals, one giant pig sticks to me like glue as soon as we enter his pen. I pet him for a minute and continue to work. Now with a pig following me with his eyes and oinking whenever we get close to his pen.
“I guess he likes you,” said Wilkin snickering.
The winner of the competition was announced. I was not surprised when the giant pig won. Unfortunately for my porcine friend, the participants of these events will be used to cook the massive feast for the eating competition. I bid farewell to the winner, and we left the tent.
Wilkin told me he needed to make sure things were running smoothly for the next event. So I have some time to rejoin the party and get some grub.
“How did it go?” Charlie said handing me a stuffed pasty.
“Some Pumpkin won the crop competition and a pig won the livestock one,” I replied shoving half of the thing in my mouth.
“Cool, is that where you got that fat pig?” he replied.
“Excuse me?” I replied.
Then I felt something nudging at my boots, looking down, I found the damn pig! He must have escaped from his pen once the competition ended.
“Where did you come from, you tasty bastard? you should be bacon by now.” I said, petting his head.
He got closer to me and rested his weight on my leg before oinking happily.
I walk toward Charlie, and as soon as the pig senses my absence, he moves back to my side.
“So, you own a pig now?” Charlie said, returning me to reality.
“No. This is the pig I was talking about, but he somehow followed me here,” I replied.
“What do you want to do then? Take it back now?” he asked.
Charlie’s brothers pet the pig as he rolls around the ground enjoying the attention.
The animal managed to keep pace with us regardless of his size, and people got another thing to gawk at while we walked.
Wilkin eventually came for me, and while he insisted Charlie come along, he seemed oddly distracted.
“I found someone teaching the kids how to make corn dollies. She agreed to keep an eye on this two for a bucket of Mr. Karmichael's candied apples,” he said ruffling his brother's hair.
“So, get going you two, we can catch up later,” he said before running off.
He doesn't get too far when I see a lumbering tan man with dark hair approach him. Looks like he came from another land, unlike other visitors.
This guy was taller than me, which was shocking enough. But he also sported a big beer gut. Damn, not all newcomers are malnourished then.
The man planted a kiss on Charlie before taking the kids in his arms.
What in the Satan’s ass?
Oh! they opened a new stand, maybe I can convince Wilkin to stop for a treat.
Nevermind, Wilkin didn’t let me stop for a treat. And he prohibit me from getting near the cooking competition.
“Because you will eat every morsel at sight,” he said.
Wilkin has been all over the place today, he didn't even let me argue before he takes off.
The sun is starting to set, and people get ready for the main event of the night, before the gorge fest. That means any spare ingredients were sold for cheap to make sure there is little waste.
“Guys! they opened a new stand, let’s go!” a human said waddling to a nearby stand.
A group of guys follows him with dopey smiles, looking at their march I recognize them. They are the scrawny bunch that we saw in the refueling stand. From their distended bellies I knew they were seeing things better now. They even upgraded those constrictive clothes for some of our own, of course our smallest size looks like a tent on them but I'm sure they will fill up soon enough.
I could have gone to the main stage now, but I have an hour or so before sunset. So, I let curiosity take the best of me and follow them to the stand.
After getting battered, deeply seasoned and fried the leftover vegetables from the crop competition will lose the stench of bland greenery.
They looked at the menu, reasoning with their stuffed middles for what to order.
“Already full?” A local said.
“Kind of, but everything looks so good,” one of the guys said.
“I know the feeling, but restraint is what sets us apart from the rest of town. I take a lot of care for my figure and I'm sure you all do too,” the local man said before taking a huge bite of a deep fried ham leg.
“For example, this ham, just my third dinner. Some people here go as far as having five full dinners,” he added, dumping the clean bone of his ham and rubbing his large middle.
I restrain the laugh from forming at the notion of just three dinners.
As this town doctor it's my responsibility to help everyone in Rothwell see the proper meal sizes, I can't let these people starve themselves.
So I take a bucket of fried onion rings, shoving a mouthful in my mouth.
“So light, it's good they are just vegetables,” I said grabbing another handful.
Their eyes gleem with the obvious realization and order bucket after bucket of fried food. We move to the seating area and I watch proudly as they ate recklessly.
“Mission accomplished, I did another good deed today,” I said to the oblivious pig licking the ground.
Wilkin was waiting for me by the stage, we made our way to the back stage and I skim around the line of participants. Nobody seems like a true challenge to me, so I promised Wilkin to give them a breathing chance.
That's when I see Charlie and his friend from earlier walk towards the registration table. Of course someone of his size would participate. Okay, one good challenger makes the event more interesting, but I still can't wrap my head around them together.
I don’t have the time to figure it out when two other towering figures come close behind. One of them has brown skin and dark hair with a short beard, while the other looks like he could be Charlies distant cousin with dark orange hair and a shitload of freckles.
The trio of tall humans walk across the crowd with even the shortest of them still having his head a solid meter above everyone else.
For a moment I thought they could be the new guys people had mentioned at the town, but that couldn't be the case. This trio is hard to miss.
People from town enthusiastically greet them, some of them even give them gifts and good.
So they are the new guys! How did these three manage to escape my eyes for months? Is it what Wilkin is saying? That I zoom out whenever?
Before my head could process the situation, I saw a familiar figure walking closely to one of the new guys. Is that fucking Rayleigh? The man has blown up like a whale, when did he grow so much?
“Seems like there will be a challenge after all,” said Wilkin.
“I wouldnt worry, your bet is safe on me. And don't even deny it, I’ve heard of the under the table bets for this event,” I replied smugly.
His face was red after getting caught.
We were interrupted by one of the staff workers in the event, he whispered something to him and left.
“Your meal is here, let's get going then,” he said.
Once we got behind the stage Wilkin was approached by the coworkers helping with the event, he was about to leave when he turned around.
“Oh true, I should take the pig for this, we don't need the extra weight on your side of the stage,” he said, patting his leg.
The pig looked at us both for a minute before squirming closer to me. Maybe I can just have him by my side through the event. But before the idea could sink in, Wilkin made an intimidating look that made the stocky animal move like a soldier.
“Good boy,” he said happily as the pig cheered up again.
“Since when did you know to do that?” I asked.
“I have some practice, He isn't the first pig I have to deal with, you know,” he said with a mocking smile.
“Pfft, fine pig whisperer,” I said.
He got going with a pig walking diligently beside him as he directed everyone on what to do next.
In their absence, I was assaulted by the smell of the food waiting for us. All the best dishes of the cooking competition were here, tantalizing me.
“I will call for everyone to gather up and get seated. When I call your name, just take a seat at the main table, okay?” Wilkin said.
His voice was a distant mumble while my mouth was filled with drool.
“Earth to Veneham, are you listening?” Wilkin said, snapping his fingers in front of me.
“Name, table, me, sure” I replied.
Finally, Wilkin started to name the competitors and my attention shifted to the stage.
The structure is framed by tall wooden pillars that Wilkin decorated for the occasion, in the center, they have a cloth that reads “First Eating Competition of Rothwell”
A long table is set for a feast in the center of the stage, with a single row of seats all facing the crowd.
Fire lamps illuminate the space while mirrors all over the stage reflect the light, making this the most well lit spot in all of town.
The participants slowly sat at the main table, when I say slowly I mean it. Of course that happens when most of the locals double their weight in preparation for this competition.
“Our next competitor is the man with the biggest appetite in town, or at least till last year, Mr. Randolph,” Wilkin said.
The burly lumberjack waved to the crowd as he climbed the stage.
“What was that about, until last year, boy?” the man said, slapping Wilkin on the back.
The boss of the lumberjacks grew to match his coworkers, he always said had to be the biggest of them in more ways than one. Now a round belly matched his arms and shoulders giving him the form of a boulder.
“Our next contestant is Ralph,” said Wilkin.
The man who climbed the stage was one of the trio from before. Most of his weight is on his lower half, with logs for legs struggling for space against each other as he makes his way to the table.
“This is going to be great. I am starving!” said the guy, knocking the chair that was set beside him with his hips.
“Up next is Rock,” Wilkin continued.
Charlie’s boyfriend appeared rubbing circles over his gut as he sat beside the other contestants.
“The next participant is Bell,” Wilkin added.
He was the shortest of the trio but he outweighed them by a landslide. His belly hung low hitting his lap with every step, with moobs that bounced in circles as he waved at the crowd and a second chin his stubble couldn't hide.
“Give a cheer to Rayleigh,” Wilkin said enthusiastically, knowing this name firsthand.
He moved with a sense of confidence in his step that looked new on him. Maybe he finally loosened up a little with the added weight; he certainly looks less like a stick in the mud.
He sat beside the newcomers and they embraced him with cheers and howls like the crowd.
I haven't seen the people in town react like this to anyone but me. Just how popular are these guys?
Wilkin left the best for last, once he called me, I appeared from the backstage area. The crowd went wild, their claps resounding even after I sat down.
I was placed in the right end of the table.
When the crowd got quiet, Wilkin cleared his throat and said, “First, we will run through the rules,”
My feet tap the hardwood floor. Can he hurry and get to the food already? I've been starving myself the entire day. A group of volunteers came from backstage, pushing trolleys to our table.
“The competition will be divided into three rounds. Whoever eats the most plates of food in a round wins a ribbon. The person with the most ribbons by the end of the game wins!”
I won't complain about the menu change through the competition, but would it kill Wilkin just to let me have my food without interruptions?
“For our first round, we have Pork chops and red wine stew in a trencher,” Wilkin said.
The volunteers placed dishes from the trolley before us, before Wilkin flipped a sand watch and screamed,”We begin wiith twenty competitors, lets see how many we have by the end. In your marks, Let's begin!”
As soon as the sand starts flowing, my hands reach for the pork chops.
I pulled a chunk of the tender meat, right from the bone and brought it to my mouth. It broke down over my tongue, almost melting in a second. Leaving just a trace of honey and wine from the stew behind.
From the initial taste I move to stuff the rest of the pork chop in me without giving myself the time to breath, my entire body is more focused on getting the meat in than air itself.
When the bone is clean, I throw it over my head and bring the bread bowl to my lips, I take gulp after gulp of the thick broth. The pleasant heat soothes my gut and wakes up more of my appetite.
From the corner of my eye, I notice some visitors in the crowd looking at me worriedly as I stuff myself like a turkey. They better get ready for the real deal, cause I'm just getting started. I wanted to enjoy its taste and texture, but before I could notice, I had swallowed the last bite. My gut is really taking over but I'm not complaining. I rub it and feel the broth sloshing inside me, yeah, this is a good starter.
A volunteer put another plate of stew in front of me, and I could take my time enjoying the taste of my meal. The rest of the small fries are most likely still nimbly eating their first course of pork.
“Urrrrrppp…Ha, easy!” a loud belch at the other end of the table catches my attention.
The freckled guy was finishing bowls; like they were nothing.
His whole body jiggled as he grabbed plate after plate, downing them in a blink.
He works without a care in the world getting drops of stew and pork all over his face and vest, as he demolished the pork chops.
“Can I pick up my own plates? It would be faster,” he said with a smile and a bead of sweat rolling down his face.
With his belly pressing forward, the freckled guy snatched the plates from a staff member as quickly as the wind and downed them.
I look in disbelief at the inhumane speed and I noticed the shortest of the trio looking at me.
He downed his stew so fast, it moved like a river flow. Whipping his mouth clean he flashes a fangy grin that makes a chill run down my spine. It's a familiar look, I can't understand why.
Beside him, Rayleigh, of all people finishes his plate. He notices me and adds to the glaring contest. Since when can he eat this fast?
While I know the guy with the freckles sucking pork chops by the second is my obvious opponent, these two ate with a fire in their eyes I couldn't ignore. There was a sense of determination that rivals the look only seen with my opponent in battle.
I won't pretend like I don't miss those days, the pride and glory of my first victories in the Colosseum. And while I decided that I would stay in this town for as long as I could, I also had to give up on that thrill ever coming back to me. Except, the same feeling is back now, but this is more fulfilling than smashing skulls.
With a new drive to gorge myself, I push forward.
“Slow down mate, It’s over for us,” said the guy to my left as I reached for my next plate.
“Take this seriously or scram pipsqueak,” I replied, before going back to my feast.
“How dare you, I'm no pushover,” he said grabbing his plate and downing it in a few gulps.
He moved to his next plate trying to match me. Them trying to beat me is laughable.
I'm down my seventh plate when the feeling of fullness starts to creep on me and I reconsider if having those treats before was a good idea. Cursed fried vegetables. This is all your fault.
I get my hands over my gut, nursing my grunting stomach, managing to get a window chattering belch.
The crowd started to chant Rayleigh’s name.
Looking at him, I saw the man eating like his life depended on it. His eyes stayed focused on his plate, only occasionally drifting to mine or one of his new friends.
His already tight pants looked ready to burst as he continued to push more chicken into his plump cheeks.
I imagine he was proud of himself for the public's reaction. But he seemed more invested in his friend’s wide open eyes.
The guy with the dark hair was mouth gape open drooling at the sight of Rayleigh. He got back to his senses when Rayleigh shoved a drumstick into his mouth.
I have downed ten plates and the first competitor lost consciousness from the fullness.
His face crashed upon the stew, and some volunteers saved him from drowning in two inches of soup.
Other three humans tapped out after that, fearing for the same scene. The guys beside me were struggling, rubbing their middles with pained expressions.
“Lightweights, did ya’ll even know what you were signing up for?” I said, shaking my head, before licking my fingers clean from the pork sauce.
They look at me enraged until one of them speaks up, “I don't know how he does it.”
“He is still going strong, after seeing that crazy ginger,” another one said between labored breaths.
“If you can talk you can eat, now shut up. You are spoiling my appetite little guy,” I replied.
“Aaaand that's time. Hands up, contestants; we are counting everyone's plates to announce the first-round winner,” Wilkin said.
“Oh, come on, already?” I sighed.
He went to each contestant's seat and counted the plates, leaving my end of the table for last.
“In third place, we have a tie between Rayleigh and Bell with thirteen plates,” Wilkin said.
They waved at the crowd before Rayleigh wrapped his arm around the new guy. When the crowd calmed down.
“In second place we have Veneham, with sixteen plates,” Wilkin added.
What in Beelzebub's tits is happening?
The crowd cheered on, but all I was too dumbfounded to react beyond a simple smile and wave.
“And finally, our winner for the first round finished with a whopping fifty plates of stew in less than 10 minutes, Ralph!” Wilkin shouted.
The man stood up with a huff to bask in his victory while the volunteers placed a new set of dishes for the second round, and my attention was back on the table.
“I Gurrrp w-won!” Then he fainted on the floor.
“Well, we still have two more rounds to go,” Wilkin said, calming down the crowd.
“For our next round, we have roasted chicken wrapped in bacon served with mashed peas,” Wilkin added.
That must have been beginner's luck. All I have to do is keep my head on the price and the juicy meat, still sizzling on the plate in front of me!
The scent of smokey roast filled my head in a second. The garlic and coriander were so strong in the air that it became all I could smell.
Except.
A gust of wind left a trace of something else.
Something faint in the distance, with a disgusting aroma. Somebody must be using some awful wood for their fire.
And yet, it felt oddly familiar.
“Ready everyone, the second round is on!” Wilkin shouted.
Whatever it is, it can't make me lose the lead in the competition. For all I know, it's just my imagination.
My belly pushes more against the table, and I feel sweat roll down my spine. This feeling is what I worked for so long, the pleasure of consuming everything I can get my hands on.
Who cares if my belly eats up at the table? My lap is so powerful it dwarves this punny table and any pair of pants.
I'm trying to get into my usual rhythm but can't focus on my meal with that smell. It comes and goes like a flickering flame.
My eyes move around looking for the source of that smell, but all I see are the other competitors.
“Oh yeah! Bring me another one, my good man. I still have space for much more!” said Percival, as his wife screamed from the crowd.
“Could I get two plates at a time? These ones are just a bit small for me,” said Charlie’s boyfriend.
He grabbed a chicken and bit it in half, gave it a couple of munches, and swallowed it without a sweat. He might be going pretty cool and collected, but in this round, he is the new tread to overcome.
My own clothes start to dig deeper against my skin, my pants stretch holding on by a thread. So I unbutton them trying to get myself some space.
The remaining guys beside me took my display as a sign that decorum was less than an option if they wanted to win, so they unbuttoned their pants and lost their shirts in hopes of making space.
“I think I'm full now,” Charlie’s boyfriend said, stifling a belch.
I looked in disbelief as the tall man took his plates, gave them to the staff and got off the stage.
My biggest opponent just threw the towel, I have to take this chance. But the fullness in my stomach is on the tipping point. I could stop now but the smell of the food is so divine I can turn it down.
A stomach, like any muscle, gains mass with tear and repair. If I use my healing ability on my stomach right after a good stuffing, my capacity increases.
It's not like I empty my stomach or anything, but it can give me that second wind I need. Some would see this as cheating, but those people are idiots. This ability is a skill I honed after many hours of nursing my taunting stomach.
Even then, I have only done this a few times before, I can't deny that I enjoy the feeling of a full meal.
Regardless, I only need this once to swipe the floor with these people. So, I get my hands over my stuffed gut and rub in circles letting my healing magic do its thing. The soothing sensation envelops my belly like a cold shower on a hot summer day.
The healing process almost makes me moan but I suppress it by stuffing a chicken drum down my throat. With a stomach ready to be stretched again I get back to work.
My nose gets another whiff of that repugnant smell and I look around, hoping to find the trail of smoke that keeps distracting me. If I get a glimpse of it, I could ask Wilkin to put it out.
“And that's time!” Wilkin shouted.
Like before, Wilkin counted everyone's plates while the volunteers cleaned the stage and table.
A volunteer took away the remnant of drumstick bone from my hand, and I felt my stomach groan in advance to the next round.
“We counted the plates; in third place, we have Rayleigh with ten plates,”
Rayleigh receives his applause with a proud smile, getting slaps on the back by his new friends. Even the freckled guy rushed up the stage to congratulate him.
Even with fifty plates down he rushed to Rayleigh like it was nothing. I winced at the sight, I can’t imagine myself walking too much after this meal. I’m going for a power nap to help these gains and let my taunt stomach to settle down.
While Rayleigh waved to the crowd, Percival looked about ready to give birth, red face and all. I'm used to eating this much on any Tuesday. But it's surprising to see this many humans keeping up with me for this long.
I can't stop myself from smiling, they are making this interesting.
“In second place we have Bellfort with thirteen plates,”
The man clashed with Rayleigh and howler proudly as if they had won already.
“And our winner is Veneham, with fifteen plates under his belt!”
Take that, nobody is making me look like a bitch today.
“We are approaching our final round, ladies and gentlemen! Our next item is dessert!”
Wilkin’s words didn't register in my head, all I could feel was the pain of my stuffed gut. It churned loudly saying it had enough. But the thought of that dessert still made me drool. How can I feel so full and yet so hungry?
Trying to nurse my still gurgling gut I got my hands under the vest, rubbing big circles around it. The soothing sensation of that touch makes me go under a sweet haze.
Hard to believe it’s been a year since my first bite of food, it feels longer than the thousands of lifetimes I’ve lived.
My abs were a medal of honor, the sign of a millennia of work. I was confused once they melted down under that first layer of fat. I have never seen my figure without them.
Was it possible that I was losing my edge? Pfft- No, it couldn't have been. Earth can't undo a century of hard work. This must be a progression to my already immaculate physique.
I mean, Demons don't fear Hell Bison’s due to their strength but their size.
This extra heft is strength that goes beyond what muscles can do.
My one craving in hell was that soreness of the training, the pump of a workout. Now, in the human realm that craving is back with a vengeance.
Each mouthful and gulp, testing the limits of my stomach is part of rigorous training. As the months passed, my body adapted to the new regimen. Two lunches became a breeze, and no fighter improved under the same routine.
Everyone in town looks up to me. They see me as their hero and goal. So I take it upon myself to help them improve as well. It’s only fair, after all this gut is the result of their offerings.
They didn't seem to get it at first, the poor guys were blinded like me. It’s weird to think I assumed my body was so immaculate, especially looking at my titanic form now.
Lucky for them, I already know what's best. A little push here and a second serving there starts the process. Before long, the entire town has a new set of clothes and portion sizes.
By their satisfied expressions I knew I was on the right track. To say I was motivated was an understatement.
My previous summonings always had boring deals. Kill an enemy, spite an ex lover, take down a government. But helping the people of Rothwell reach their true potential was much more fulfilling.
I was never meant to fall from the grace of heaven. A little hand to the wrong person and those puritans mark you as the enemy. Who needs them when I can make this small part of earth my personal paradise.
Even in heaven I never cared for other people’s bodies, they were unappealing to me. So, I never got that buzz people had with sex.
Of course I still had a sexual appetite, but who could please me better than myself? What can I say, I’m a champion even at jerking off.
Realizing there was anything that could give me that rush has left me astounded. While I mourned the loss of my abs, I couldn’t ignore the heat that spread in my chest as I felt my hands explore my new-found chub.
After that, I ended most days jerking off with one hand, and exploring the small changes of my body with the other.
It would be a lie to pretend this didn't affect my already growing appetite. When I arrived at Rothwell, I was roughly four hundred pounds, with most of that weight being muscle. In just a couple of months, I managed to pile on fifty extra pounds, and every touch and movement made those pounds more noticeable.
The jiggle of my beginner belly as I climb downstairs, or the bounce my hip had as I close the door with it.
Those days, I would go back home almost religiously with a gut packed to the brim, letting the feeling of fullness fill my desire. The thing that always drove me over the edge was the idea of how big I could get.
When spring came around, I had added 125 pounds of blubber to my frame; it was easy to notice. My legs fought for space as I walked, making me take wider steps. My belly led my way as it expanded, bouncing with each step. And my chest struggled to break free of every shirt I owned.
As the town embraced my way of seeing things, it extended to this as well. The larger people in town became the hot new thing. I got plenty of suitors, and of course it was flattering but they wanted more than what I was willing to give. So, I continued to push forward on my own.
With a new vest to flaunt my expanding gut, we started summer. At the time, I was pushing seven hundred pounds. My waddling became more prominent, and accidents around my weight became more common.
Wilkin reassured me with a wide smile that the cash on extra clothes wasn’t a problem, or the changes in furniture or the expansion of the house main door. I noticed how much he looked at me, but unlike the rest of town, he never suggested a desire for something beyond what we had going on. So I pushed his buttons on purpose, seeing him melt.
We would struggle in the hallways, unable to pass together. Or would turn red as my bulk mashed against his tiny body. It was fun, seeing how my ballooning body could cover most of him without problem.
My sessions at night became more of a struggle. Even with all I'm packing down there, I could barely see with the mountain of flesh in between. After some searching, I would finally grasp it and go wild.
The fight for space was all the more exciting. The way my belly sprawled as I lay on my side was invigorating, while my rolls mashed against each other at the rhythm of my pumps.
That struggle extended to strenuous tasks outside the bedroom, from running around town to reaching stuff off the ground. But I was more than ready to give up some flexibility if it meant another serving at the inn.
All I had to do was avoid strenuous situations, like walking. My laziness caught up to me and I reached seven hundred by fall. The town couldn't keep up with my growth in some ways and that struggle made me heat up every time.
I chuckle every time someone looks smaller than my thighs. Those people will never understand the pleasure of being this massive. Maybe other demons could understand it, sadly they can't enjoy my paradise.
To think we were all innocent enough in heaven, believing we had it all, we were missing so much. Like the excitement I felt when my belly fully obscured the view off my dick. Or when my hands could only touch the tip of it.
How did I lived for so long ignoring the possibility of fucking my own fat. To moan as I got off just rubbing my gut against my cock and fatpad. And even with all those nights of magnificent pleasure, as I panted with glassy eyes and my belly covered in my own seed. All I could think was, how much more I can grow-
“Veneham?”
That though, always makes my skin heat up.
“VENEHAM!”
“Eh what? Is dessert ready?” I asked.
“Yes, if you could stop day dreaming. We are the final round,” Wilkin said, wiping the drool off my face.
“For our next round we have sour cherry pie topped with sweet cream scones,” Wilkin said.
The staffers brought out a massive pie pan the size of a family table. The decadent smell of cherry is intoxicating, even the people on the crowd drooled just looking at it.
We all rushed, digging into our pies, the sour cherry filling had the perfect balance of tartness and sweetness. The toping was crispy and warm still and the scones were so soft I thought I was biting a cloud.
My excitement was short lived when I got another whiff of that repugnant smoke. Fire is all over the festival, and open roasts are in full force in most tents. But this is different, and it hits me.
A cold sweat runs down my spine as I recognize that distinctive disgusting smell of rotten.
Of sulfur.
“Ready, set and go!” Wilking said, before flipping the hourglass.
If Wilkin managed to summon me, someone else could do the same.
Who knows what they are trying to do? I have to find the source of the fire and put an end to it.
The crowd clamored for me to come back. Their voices crying for my return made the whole thing even more bitter.
“Don't worry, guys, I'm coming back. Hold the ribbons!” I shouted as their voices became distant.
The festival is here, enjoy the festivities to your heart's desire.
Editor: @bee-wg
<<First Chapter / <Previous Chapter / Next Chapter >>
“You self-centred son of a bitch!” I scream at the top of my lungs as the summoning vortex sucks Veneham to Earth.
It's been months since the first time that jackass got summoned to the human realm, making him stronger and even more annoying with each subsequent summoning. The more time I spend here sitting on my ass, the more that gap between our strength grows apart.
I won't allow that selfish bastard to go and become even stronger without putting up a proper fight. Without thinking, I jump into the vortex with Alph and Mineral following suit.
“What do you two think you are doing?” Mineral shout, looking at me worried.
His voice is drowned by the sound of the fire blasting. So I reply with a yell, hoping they can hear me as well.
“Why did you both jump?”
“I can't allow you to have all the fun,” Alph said with a nervous grin.
“To make sure you don't get killed, idiot.”
They both yelled at the same time.
We ricochet wildly on the way to the human world, so they grab onto me in an attempt to steady our trajectory. We are still holding on to one another when the vortex leaves us in a dark room, losing balance and falling to the ground. My face slides across an invisible wall created by the pentagram used to summon Veneham.
The house trembles with the weight of our bodies, and we all hear something crashing from beneath the floor.
We try to stand up and fit inside the limits of the small circle, trying not to step into each other but failing miserably.
A sigh of relief escapes me after realising we got here in one piece. The idea of Veneham’s laughter once he heard of us getting obliterated by the vortex would be the most embarrassing thing of the century.
After some struggle, we heard someone climbing into the room.
“Hello, is anybody here? Wilkin, is that you?” said the human as his head popped inside.
The human was scared to this core. It would be entertaining if I wasn't stuck in this circle with two giants squishing me. We entice him to get closer in hopes of making a deal, but it's easier said than done.
He talked to us from the ladder too scared to approach us.
“Hi Human, how is the fish hunting going?”
I’ve been summoned several times before, I'm basically an expert in human knowledge. Convincing this human to make a pact with us will be a piece of cake.
“What?- It's winter,” he replies, looking bewildered.
We are doomed.
“What are you?” he asks, rubbing his eyes.
“We are, um… The tooth fairies!” I reply with a toothy grin, followed by Mineral and Alph.
Surprisingly enough he doesn't challenge the tooth fairy lie. Didn't his parents teach him not to believe in strangers?
Now comes the hustle of convincing him to make a pact with us. Our pitch consisted of pretending fairies needed to form deals with humans to travel in their realm. If not we could only move around during the night.
“What type of deal?” he said, with curiosity showing on his face.
I remember the many times Veneham would brag about his life here and the deal he set with his human. Work for food, the base of his regime must revolve around t
“It's just a formality, really, nothing serious. In exchange for shelter, food, oh! and one of those stews Veneham mentioned, we’ll help you with anything we can.” I say.
He opens slightly at the mention of Veneham, but he continues.
“What could you possibly do to help me? As tooth fairies.”
“We are magical. We can help with lots of things,” I reply.
“We are really strong! We can help to deal with your enemies,” says Alph excitedly.
“And I'm good with animals. I can help you with that.” says Mineral.
I could hear my own head going a mile per hour, desperately wanting this guy to form the pact. I want to experience the human world again, I need this to happen. After some processing, he gets closer to the circle. Just add that he's too excited to have a deal again after so long.
“Wilkin does trust you, and I'm in need of help.” he said, looking towards Minera.
I contained myself not to scream sweet victory ahead of time as he extended his hand to Mineral and sealed the deal. As their handshake ends, the pentagram’s force field dissolves, and we can move freely again.
I couldn't contain my joy. We had a pact on earth already, the excitement of exploring this new world that Veneham has been describing for the past few months runs hot under my skin.
Before we could leave, we had to conceal our appearances to blend across town. Mineral and I had previous summonings, but nothing shapes your image of the human world as your first run on the human world.
I was summoned to the Polynesian islands. My summoner at the time was travelling alongside a group between islands and needed protection from the harsh assault of the ocean. Mineral was summoned in Japan to protect a shrine for a century.
We both felt like part of those communities, getting regularly summoned for several years. So much so that whenever we got called upon afterward, we would use the image of those communities as our own.
Mineral’s dark blue skin and messy white hair that reached the lobes of his ears morphed into black hair and the light brown of a tan. My purple skin turned brown, with a mild beard and short black hair.
Alph, on the other hand, has never been summoned before; some demons are just not as lucky as we are. But he is aware of our posture on first summonings. So, it was easy to figure out he would mimic Charles' appearance as his first. His green moss skin turned a pale white with spots covering his cheeks and arms, the colour of his hair changing to a dark orange adorned by a bun on top.
When Charles opens the door to head out, the cold wind of winter hits us. Demons run on high heat all the time, making the colder weather a simple breeze. But I fear for a second the human would freeze up and die, by how much he trembles on our walk.
My heart beats with excitement as we make our way to Charle’s house. I'm not sure if it's out of pure joy as I get a step closer to beating Veneham once and for all or out of fear of being found out and sent back to hell. Taking that in mind, I keep my eyes open making sure we don't clash with Veneham at any point. On our way, the smell of freshly baked bread, roasted meat, sweets, and all sorts of food filled the air; I had to fight myself not to start the training right away.
We settled on Charles' house for the first weeks of winter. He is not fond of the cold, preferring to stay inside and teach us about the new costumes of humans and make us help around the house.
During our first few nights, Charles' small humans were relentless, asking all types of questions and screaming for hours.
“What are those?” The smaller of the two said.
He points to the array of curve lines, dots and spearheads painting my hips and legs.
“These are tattoos, I got them -”
But before I can answer he runs off and asks Mineral another question. I was ready to bite one of the little nightmares in the head till Alph matched their energy and tired them out. There was no way they could outperform him, but he surprised us with how easy it was for him to deal with them.
We met Miriel the seamstress doing most of the clothes in town. Charles wanted us to replace the clothes we borrowed from Veneham. Since then, our visits to her home have become more frequent, needing bigger pairs of clothes every other week.
While that is great and all, nothing beats the first meal he brings to us.
“I know you wanted stew for your deal, so here it is. A fresh pork stew and some dinner rolls,” he says after setting the table.
He didn't have much time to react before we attacked the thick soup and the bread. Our senses as demons are more sensitive than humans, making even the simple sugar of fruit an experience worth telling. But this was something else completely, the flavour filled my mind, drowning any other thought other than to get the next spoonful in. No wonder Veneham has become so strong.
Once the taste of the new human food hits our taste buds, the three meals a day we get from Charles become a glass of water in the forest fire of our appetites. The craving for more food drives us out of Charles' house before the end of the month. I won't beat Veneham limiting myself with just his cooking.
When Veneham said that humans needed help with menial tasks, it wasn't an exaggeration. Most of the work we end up doing doesn't even break a sweat. Regardless, they seem happy to get more help.
“It's a blessing to have more help around. We couldn't just rely on Veneham all the time.” said an old woman.
She is the owner of a pub that needs someone to bring barrels filled with booze into her pantry. The fish and chips she pays with are more than worth the walk through the snow with the barrels. During one of my trips back to the wagon with the alcohol, their conversation caught my attention.
“Definitely. It was surprising seeing Veneham helping around for the first time, but he’s been stretched thin. The man can't be everywhere at all times; thankfully the new lads are catching up.” the old man replied.
“We have to lock our pantries. If these lads keep showing up, they will eat us out of house and home.” the old woman said.
They both laughed and continued.
“It's incredible, right? Their appetite has no end. I mean, just look at him, he’s been eating and drinking there for a while now, it doesn't seem to be stopping soon. I wonder how they do it?” she said, gesturing at a massive man sitting on a table surrounded by other men drinking.
I immediately recognized Veneham even under the spell of concealment. He must have entered the pub while I was carrying the barrels back inside.
The conversation of the humans becomes muted as my head runs to think of what to do. If Veneham recognizes me, the fun is over. The idea of running out of the pub tempts me until I notice his glazed eyes. So entranced in the food, he hasn't even lifted his head from the plate with all the ravaging. Let alone notice my presence.
Against my better judgement, I continue carrying the barrels, careful not to raise attention. I’ve already done a lot today, so I'm getting my pay no matter what.
The hours pass, and among the sea of empty plates, Veneham is still drinking the night away. A stomach so bloated it peaks from within his vest, rubbing it every now and then with a bliss expression. Just wait Veneham. Soon enough, I will be as strong as you.
A crowd of men enters the pub looking for food and drinks; when they spot Veneham, the cheers fill the room. The table he was sitting on gets flooded with people. Everyone encourages him to have one more drink, cheering as he pounds the empty mug on the table.
Except for one broody human in the corner, he is taller than most of his group, with muscular arms softened by what must be hours of training like Veneham’s.
“I don't understand, you came here to heal everyone from the sickness. Now that everyone is back to health, why not go back home? What are you doing ploughing fields as a doctor?” the broody human said.
The rest of the men throw daggers at him with their eyes. Veneham takes a swing of his drink before adding.
“I'm obviously here for the good booze!” Veneham replied, raising his glass while everyone went wild.
He has always been a showoff even in hell, with a cocky attitude, and that overconfidence added to the unworldly power. It made people gravitate towards him. The worst part is that his thick skull is so oblivious to it, even when it's happening right before him.
The broody human sighed and resumed his meal while Veneham downed another glass of beer in a single swing. The crowd of men continued to howl around him till the man snapped.
“Can you all be quiet? Anyone can drink beer like that. Let a man eat in peace!”
Some men booed him, others yelled lines like “You couldn't drink half as much as him” or "Join the fun, Rayleigh, what's the matter?”
“You all want to see how easy it is? Let's bet then, I can drink as much as Veneham.”
I roll my eyes at the naivety of this human. obviously he can't outdrink a demon. Suddenly the idea of his cocky ass getting beat by a human makes a grin sprout on my face. One can only dream.
Veneham doesn't even acknowledge the challenge, just getting back to drinking. Rayleigh trying to match his pace.
Mug after mug, they continue with neither of them showing signs of bailing. If anything, I'm surprised by the ability of this human to hold his alcohol.
Veneham stops drinking, and his face contorts into an unpleasant frown. Rayleigh’s face is red from the alcohol as he finishes his mug and smashes it against the table, a smile painting his face.
Is it possible for a human to be the one to beat Veneham? The thrill makes me giddy with excitement for some reason. Before I know what takes over me, I scream, “Come on Rayleigh, beat his ass!”
Some of the men turned in my direction, but I ducked behind a wall as soon as the words left my mouth. Am I trying to get caught, or What?
Out of nowhere, a massive burp escapes Veneham's mouth, so loud it attracts everyone's attention away from my blatant attempt at self-sabotage. I look back into the room to see Veneham rub his belly with a satisfied expression.
“Ah, that was a good one, ready for more booze.” he said, taking another mug.
Rayleigh collapsed on the table soon after. He was out cold for the rest of the night.
Everyone roared, clapping Veneham’s back and rubbing his belly, to which he looked confusedly proud of himself. With the drinking competition out of the way, the night passed with less fanfare.
The pub emptied out as Veneham left, leaving the place in silence. I got a hearty meal when the last barrel of booze was put in its place. The last thing still in the pub was Rayleigh.
“Could you please take him to his home, Bell? If you do, come back tomorrow for lunch on the house,” said the pub owner.
I nod and grab the limp man from the table, throwing him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. With the direction of his house provided by the pub owner, I carried him to his home. The frozen wind crashes against my body. It doesn't bother me but makes my drunken passenger grab onto my warmer skin unconsciously.
He remained comfortably asleep on my shoulder by the time we reached his house. The building doesn't take much space, compensated for its lack of horizontal space with a second floor and a shed behind it. The door is unlocked, so I enter the house and dump Rayleigh on his living room floor. His body trembles as soon as he touches the cold hardwood.
Before I can close the door, I see his body shivering. Oh, right, he’s a human. They die so easily. So, with a flick of my fingers, the fireplace gets turned on. His body stopped shaking once I placed him on a chair near the fire.
With the light of the fireplace warming up the place, I could appreciate more of the living room. It’s covered with working equipment for farming, construction, even medicine. What type of job does he do to need all of this?
When I return to Charles's house, Alph is playing with Davie and Eliah by throwing them into the treehouse they built a few weeks ago. He has managed to tire them out without fail every night. All of us have been able to sleep better thanks to Alph.
Mineral is with Charles cooking something in the kitchen; they’ve been spending more time together. A week ago, Charles served us a roasted lamb with potatoes. Mineral was more ecstatic than usual, asking for all the details of the roast. Charles was happy to reply to every question, with the biggest smile I have seen from him since we moved here.
My plan for the night is to go straight to bed and rest. I need to recover from all the training today. In the few minutes before falling asleep, my mind goes back to Rayleigh. The pub owner wouldn't pay me if she learned about him freezing to death.
Since that night at the pub, I've been waking up earlier than anyone to go and find extra work to do, filling my stomach with the most grub I can get my hands on. The fruits of my hard work are showing. My arms are starting to grow, making my sleeves tighter. My sides and stomach are not big enough to grab, but they are getting there.
The progress on my body keeps me motivated, just as much as seeing Rayleigh challenging Veneham every other day to no avail. He would challenge Veneham to see who could chop a tree the fastest, and he wouldn't be able to make a single cut before Veneham left his tree on the floor. A challenge to see who can carry the most bags with gravel would end with Veneham carrying the whole wagon, leaving Rayleigh with a single bag. And so on.
If anything, he has shown to have determination. The little human is a tough cookie. I'm intrigued by what makes him want to oppose Veneham so much, even when he always loses. If we had the chance to talk I would ask him, but whenever our eyes meet he goes in the opposite direction.
At the end of winter when the ice starts to melt, the townsfolk gather in the field in front of Wilkin’s house. There was music, drink, and lots of food courtesy of the Lord’s cook. His cooking is sublime so we take every opportunity to taste his dishes. After the night at the pub, we stopped worrying about Veneham catching us as long as he had food in front of him. And with Wilkin busy with the festival planning, the coast is clear for us to enjoy the gathering freely.
That's when I see Rayleigh talking with some humans, it's my move. As I approach them, we see each other, he excuses himself from his conversation and volts to the back of Wilkin’s house. Where is he going? With some sprinting I follow him to the back of the house, finding him with his back against the wall like a corned mouse.
“Got you, now stop running around,” I said.
“I don't know what you mean.” Rayleigh said nervously.
“Every time I see you anywhere you try to avoid me. Have I done something to you?”
With a sigh, he relaxes and replies.
“Thanks for bringing me back home after I fell asleep in the pub a while back. Are you happy now?”
He tries to pass beside me with a defeated look on his face, but I grab his shoulder.
“I still don't understand. Why are you avoiding me if you are grateful for my help?” I say.
“Seriously- Do I have to spell it out? I'm embarrassed that you had to take me back home that night.” he replied.
“Why? It's worse to walk away knowing you left his smug ass without a proper fight.”
He looks at me puzzled then his expression lights up.
“You are the guy that cheered me up that night, isn't it?” he said with a smile.
“Yeah, you showed guts to stand against Veneham,” I replied.
“First, thanks for the support and second, of course I did. He keeps showing up with his cocky attitude, thinking he can do everything better than anyone else. I’ll beat him one day and show everyone he is not so perfect.” he said.
“Right? He is always posturing as the tough guy. A while back, he told me about this secret regimen of his. I've been piecing it together from what I have heard of town folks. It does work, do you want to know it?
He looks at me with fire in his eyes, the burning desire to know what he needs to do to improve.
“Yes, tell me everything.” he replies with confidence.
I told him everything about the secret training regimen of Veneham, and we promised to help each other grow stronger. We would meet for the next few months to share information about new pieces of Veneham’s regimen. Showing each other our improvement and trading ideas.
“He adds extra butter to his bread.” Ray said.
“We already add extra butter to our bread.” I replied.
“No, I mean extra over that,” he replied.
With each other's help, our progress has grown exponentially. Most of my growth is on my top half, my arms that used to be veiny and defined now packed with power, stretching my sleeves to the limit, from my plain chest now burst mounds of meat sagging slightly over my belly. And the belly I could hardly notice is now easy to grab alongside my sides.
I just wish my lower body could follow the same growth. There has been improvement but not to the extent my upper body has. Unlike Rayleigh, his legs have thickened to give him a formidable look. His belly grew to spread over his thighs.
I compliment him on his bigger butt, his cheeks looking more full and round. He always ends up with a flush and ignores my comment. Humans are weird.
Regardless of our progress, working around the clock remains a part of our lives. At the beginning of spring, I went to visit Ray in the woods while he helped chop down trees. I heard a tip from a waiter saying that Veneham added an extra meal to his daily routine. With how much Ray’s appetite has grown over the last month, I'm sure adding the extra meal won't be an issue.
I can hear the guys talking in the distance. When I'm close enough to see them clearly, my eyes land on Veneham. I ran behind a tree to take cover, hoping he didn't see me. I wait in that spot, looking back to the crowd of workers now and then to make sure Veneham has left. Usually he chops a tree and leaves, of course, the day I come to visit Ray he stays overtime.
During the groups' conversation, the subject of the festival and its many competitions comes to the excitement of everyone. They all have something they want to win at, but Veneham, like always, thinks he can do everything.
His exact words were, “I can beat anyone in any competition.” The worst part is that he could win by the look of things, his egotistic arse has grown even more since the last time we spoke. He looks like a confident behemoth while the men praise him.
When I look back, Ray is sitting in a stomp with the same annoyed expression he had in the pub. Our eyes meet and his expression changes to determination. I think we both have the same idea. Let's beat his ass at the festival competitions.
Once Veneham leaves and everyone moves on with their work, I meet up with Ray.
“So, you heard everything?” he said while we strolled the woods back.
“Yeah, he still thinks losing is impossible for him. It's been that way since forever.” I replied bitterly.
“I was meaning to ask, where do you know him from? You always say he hasn't changed.”
“Oh yeah, well I'm a nomad in a sense. I never stick around a place for too long. On one of my travels, I ended up staying in the same town as Veneham. He healed every one of their pains but stuck around, beating every record and making everyone fawn over him.”
I take a pause. He looks at me, attentive to every word, I should be careful of what I say but the words just come out of me.
“Back in the day, he befriended everyone, including me. It’s hard not to be impressed by someone that magnifying; all I wanted was for him to notice that I was at his level. But he left without ever seeing me as an equal.” I said.
“If you are a nomad, why have you stayed here for so long?” he replied.
“I don’t know, this place feels different. I wouldn't mind settling down here.” I said.
After a pause, he added.
“Do you want to go to my place? We can have lunch and I can show you something.”
With a nod, we made our way to his house.
It's been a while since the last time I could make a new friend. Millenia in hell is enough time to know most demons by name, and if you don't mesh well with them, you have an enemy for eternity. I didn't care about that for the longest time, Mineral, Alph and even Veneham were more than enough company.
Until my summoning in the Islands, It happened ages ago, yet the memory of them travelling across the ocean, eating palusami together, talking amongst one another like equals burns bright. When I hang out with Ray, it reminds me of those days.
We made it to his house before sundown. I saw his living room for the second time now with the added benefit of sunlight. I could see the same working equipment as last time with more clarity.
“Why do you have all of this here? Can't you use the huge shed behind the house?”
“The shed is also full, besides when you use this as often as me, there is no point in keeping them far.”
I have heard from the townsfolk that Ray used to help around before Veneham showed up, but the amount of equipment here makes it seem he was more of the Steward than anything.
My face must have shown my thought process cause he started to explain.
“I used to be the one who kept everything here running. If your roof was blown by a storm, I would fix it in the dark of night.”
He sat down on a dusty chair and offered me one as he continued.
“From Christmas toys for the kids to care for the sick back to health, people knew me for being resourceful. Nobody taught me jackshit to do so; I just managed with what was given.”
“And Veneham came,” I added.
“Yeah- I was sceptical of some of his practices initially. He managed to do the impossible, healing everyone out of the blue. And don't get me wrong, I’m thankful for it. But the more time he spent in town helping people the less they needed me around.”
The presence of Veneham made him take forced vacations, but the changes around town revolved around Veneham's continued support, not Ray’s. Making his vacations more of a firing.
“I still work, I'm getting by without problems. If not, how could I afford 8 meals a day, but I want to show that tower of muscle I can be as capable,” he said.
The first person who got me regarding Veneham was a human sitting in front of me in a house made for a community that no longer requires his service. His face with greeted teeth makes me more certain we get each other. Even in the brooding part.
We spent the rest of the evening at his house, he showed me his board game collection that’s been collecting dust. I insisted that he teach me how to play chess and checkers. I suck at both, he makes it obvious with how much he laughs at my lack of skill.
The training continued while we played, going into the dark of night until our bellies couldn't hold another morsel. He is starting to keep up with me more easily, which is outstanding for a human’s appetite.
With a bloated belly and a zero victory streak at chess, I make my way back to Charlie's house.
At the door, I crash with Alph going out of the house in a hurry.
“Hey, slow down Alph, what's the hurry?” I ask
“Sorry, I'm late to meet up with Doréon. See you later.”
He runs towards the woods and vanishes from my sight amongst the trees.
He befriended some human that lives deep within the forest. Alph seemed to enjoy visiting them every other day, even when it meant walking to the other end of the woods to meet up. Too much of a walk for me.
Inside the house Mineral is resting in the living room, with Charles close to him rubbing his belly. The more time they spent together, the more Mineral progressed in his training. His already bulky body floods with all the food Charles has been making for him. Maybe he had too much this time?
I told Mineral and Alph the details of our secret training so far, but they haven't shown much interest in training together. Not that I mind, Mineral is growing out of every garment he owns with Charles's help, and Alph has been training while spreading his social butterfly wings. He went to every pub and social gathering he could get into, entertaining the crowds with a lute while raiding them out of their food.
Back in my room, I struggle to get my shirt off without ripping it off. The fight with the piece ends when I hear a rip off the seams at the side. It might be time to visit Miriel again.
With the spring season going at full force, many human couples choose to partake in the tradition of forced monogamy, or as they call it. Weddings.
Rayleigh and I got jobs helping to bring the materials for the ceremonies, and the more I looked at them, the weirder they seemed. Humans would promise each other their eternal souls under the pretence of love. Fill their houses and backyards with flowers, ribbons and other decorations. Crying their eyes out for something that's all things considered a word agreement.
Demons have a similar practice in hell, but like most things in hell, there is always a life-or-death connotation to it. It's a Life-sharing spell, bounding the demons for eternity. It splits all injuries, curses even death among the parties involved. Those are stakes, you wouldn't cheat on your partner knowing you are magically bound for life.
“I don't get it. Why do they feel the need to get married?” I said, placing a clump of flowers in a base.
“What do you mean, you’ve never been in love?” he said.
“I had felt infatuations before, but I wouldn't call them love.” I say with a frown.
“Come on, someone must have picked your interest enough.” he says, elbowing my sides.
With a grunt, I replied, “I knew a man before- His presence was the sun burning everything on its path. But when I confessed my feelings toward him, he ignored them. After that, I haven't bothered with love.”
That same jackass has plagued my existence ever since. He was so oblivious to how I felt even after that, sticking around me and my friends, never allowing me to fully heal from that heartbreak. So much so that even after getting summoned to the Pacific islands for years, he found a way to come back into my life. Maybe that's why I cherish those days so much, they gave me a chance to be away from him.
He looks at me regretfully. I doubt he can tell the degree of my bitterness, but that doesn't stop him from adding,
“Sorry Bell, I shouldn't have forced the matter. For what it’s worth, it's his loss.” he says with determination.
I looked at him with the best smile I could put out and said, “Thanks Ray, but don't worry, I have moved on from those days.” If only it was that easy.
“Good, cause- I'm sure you will make someone happy one day and we can't have you all broody for a blind guy years ago.” he continued.
We finished carrying the decorations for the wedding and got paid with a mountain of food. The families put together an offering worthy of a king. Ray and I ate the offering in record time, but something caught my eye. Whenever I raised my eyes to see Ray’s progress on the food, he would look at me, his face would turn red, and he would continue eating like a starving man. Humans are weird, indeed.
His behaviour continued to be strange in the following days, I meant to ask if something on his food was spicy or if I had something on my face, but I ignored the matter. We have to keep focus on the training after all.
We got together for one of our training sessions at his house at the end of spring. The table is filled with all the extra offerings we gathered throughout the day. With drool running down my cheeks, we got started on the massive feast.
This is not the first time we have demolished a pile of food of this magnitude, and we have learned to let loose while training. After all, it's just the two of us. Rayleigh has ruined several shirts now with food stains, so he suggested eating with his shirt off. I obliged right away. I'm taking all the opportunities to get rid of the extra clothing. Humans worry about the most useless of things, like decorum.
We work fast on our supper; I'm almost done with my side of the table when Rayleigh lays back, rubbing his belly and grunting, a small burp helps him make space before continuing to eat. I have seen him doing this before, it's his technique to push forward when he is getting full.
The idea pops into my head and my body moves before I register it. He sees me approach him with surprised eyes and asks. “Came to steal some of my food?”
I take a pastry from the table and bring it to his face before saying, “I want to help you this time, push you to your limits.”
Veneham has been training alone all this time, but we are a team. If we help one another, we might be able to outpace his progress.
He looks into my eyes, a smile forming on his red face before saying, “Took you long enough, come on Bell let's do this.”
I put the pastry in his mouth and he eats it with enthusiasm. After several of them disappear between his greedy lips a whimper escapes him.
“Come on Ray, you can do more than that,” I said, shoving as I continued shoving pastries down his gullet.
At the encouragement, his movement gained a new voracity looking desperately for the next bite.
“That's better,” I said with a smile.
The chicken roast gets ripped into pieces and brought to his salivating mouth making a mess all over his growing moobs. The pork stew drips on his belly while I pour it down his throat. Grunts and moans escape him, in between munches and I continue to rub his belly helping him work through the entire meal.
“You are almost done Ray. You only need to have dessert and then you can rest.” I say, bringing a cake in front of him.
His belly looks ready to burst, solid under my hands as I massage it. He looks pained before he releases a belch and says.
“Give me all you have, I can take it.”
I grab a portion of cake and shove it in his open mouth, he moans and licks my hand clean. I repeat the same process till the cake is gone. He huffs for air while my hand rubs the distended mound of food that is his midsection. With a determined face he said “Thanks for the help Bell.”
“No problem Ray, we should do this more often,”
His eyes opened wide before he said.
“Of course, just say the word.”
After that evening we had several training sessions like that, his appetite reached new highs with his belly growing to accommodate my constant encouragement.
One night at the end of spring, After one of our sessions I went to bed full like never before, and the one thing burning in my mind was the image of Ray, looking directly into my eyes as he pushed more scones into my face. A burning feeling starts to rise inside of me as I try to fall asleep. Is this how he’s been feeling every night after I help him?
The following morning, I got into one of my last pants still fitting, setting my course to Miriel’s house for a new set of clothes. This visit went similarly to all others; she welcomed me in and started to work on my bigger measurements. While I try to distract myself with the decoration on her walls, something catches my eye. On her table lies an oversized vest on top of clumps of clothes. It looks comfortable yet flashy. My curiosity tipped over, and I asked,
“Miriel, what are those clothes over at the table? Is that vest for sale?”
“Oh no Bell, they are my working projects. Everything in that table has an owner. Veneham ordered that one not too long ago, I can make you one if you want.”
When she finished taking my measurements, I walked to the table and inspected the piece. This is genius, the openness of the clothes allows you to grow freely. It must be a part of his regimen. Why didn't I think of this earlier?
“Miriel, I want one. And make the rest of the clothes with the same concept.” I say, pointing to the buttons on the vest.
“Sure Bell, I will have them ready by the end of the week, you’ll have to wait for me to finish my backlog of orders. I've been getting many requests from people to upsize their clothes.”
“I can wait. Thanks for the time.”
I barely managed to keep my last few pieces of clothes intact before Miriel got me the new ones. They fit perfectly and I ran downstairs to show them to the guys. When I told them how it was part of Veneham's plans. Both their eyes filled with excitement, and they ended up getting matching pairs by the end of the week.
Ray got one after I told him it had obvious training properties, he was in desperate need of one. His current clothes were making him look as tight as a sausage, which I didn't mind but he was starting to feel constricted by them.
The weeks passed and the open vest became a summer trend between the men. The heat of the season was the perfect excuse for an open piece of cloth. The other thing that became popular was travelling to the nearby river. Rayleigh and I planned on going but Veneham was holding the place like he owned it.
We thought he would get bored of it, leaving us some privacy to enjoy the water. but as the days passed, it dawned on us. That wouldn't be the case. Rayleigh came knocking at Charlie’s home the following day at the break of dawn.
“Get your things Bell, we are going on a trip,” he said excitedly.
“Wait, what?-” I said.
It was too early for me to understand what was going on. All I knew was that Rayleigh was pushing me back to my room to make my bags for a trip.
He made me carry most of the luggage onto the dirt road, and by the time the grogginess of sleep left me we were waiting for a wagon to carry us into the south of the country.
“Okay Ray, where are we going?” I asked.
“It's a surprise, just trust me on this,” he replied.
“Fine, I will,” I said flatly.
“That's it?” he said with an arched eyebrow.
“That's it. Why?” I replied.
He shrugged and added, “I thought it would be more complicated than that. I had a full speech to try and convince you to have a leap of fate.”
“No, I trust you. But you can give me your speech if it makes you feel better.” I say, beaming.
“Yes! Don't mind if I do, Bell, sometimes in life adventures call and-” he started his rant.
He continued his speech once the wagon picked us up. The wooden contraption groaned under our shared weight and made it impossible to carry anyone else on its way to our destination. I liked having the wagon for myself and Ray, he continued with his speech of taking chances and trust as the countryside views passed by us.
By the time he was done, we were at the drop-off point.
“-and that's why you should follow my lead into adventure. What do you think?” he said with a radiant smile filled with pride.
“You couldn't have me more convinced, so where now?” I replied.
“Follow me, it's this way.” he said, gesturing down a road paved by black Peebles.
We walked for a few minutes, with the pine trees surrounding the road giving us a nice shade. We continued to talk about how the poor horse that carried us most likely needed vacations until I saw the blue tint of a big body of water in the distance.
A wave of nostalgia crashes against me.
“Is that what I think it is?” I said.
“If you are thinking of the best beach in the world, then yes, it is,” he said with a cocky grin.
I thought it could be a lake, even a river, but the idea of seeing the sea again made me pick up the pace till I was sprinting, Rayleigh keeping up with me. We get to the sandy shore, huffing for air, absorbing the view. The sand is golden, with water so clear you can see the floor beneath it, and the deep blue of the sea expands miles away.
It's different from the ocean I saw in my last summoning, the blue of the shore has a deeper tone that looks more like the night sky than anything. Before I could ask Rayleigh why that was the case, he dropped his bags and clothes, running to the water only in his undergarments.
“Come on, we have a beach for ourselves. What are you waiting for?” he said, waving his arms.
I followed his lead and jumped into the water.
He stood on top of the black thing covering the seafloor, looked in my direction, and submerged into the water. I waited for a second till he came back with a fistful of pebbles.
“The ocean crashes against the rocky hills on the sides of the coast and forms these black pebbles that cover most of the beach. It's amazing, right?” he said.
“It is. How do you know this place?” I ask, my brain still processing everything but looking for more information.
“Dad used to take me here all the time when I was a kid. When was the last time you came by the ocean?,” he replied.
He looked at the oceans in the tattoo that covered my waist all the way to my knees.
“A lifetime ago in the Motu o Sāmoa. I really missed it. Thanks for bringing me Ray.” I replied.
He splashed me with some salty water and laughed.
“No worries, now let's have some fun. We have to make the most of our day,” he said while splashing at me.
“Oh, let me show what all the training has led to,” I say, splashing him back, making sure I don't drown him with a wave.
We continued to mess around, Rayleigh chasing me back to the shore. When he caught me we lost balance and fell beside our bags. I was on top of him, looking into his eyes, both of us huffing for air. The body before me has developed into a marvellous display of art. A chest that makes many breasts go to shame. A soft belly that pools around him with grace, raising with each breath. His hips were wide like tree trunks yet soft while smooshing against my legs.
His face was fuller and so handsome it made me melt. When did he become so beautiful, and why did it take me so long to realise it?
His face turned red as his hand looked for my face.
“I was waiting for you to look at me that way,” he said.
“How am I looking at you?”
“With the same eyes I've been looking at you.”
My heart stops for a second and it clicks. He has been by my side all of these months, the one person who gets me for who I am, even when he doesn't know what I am. Who has supported my desires and encouraged my ambition. And the person who has been burned into my mind almost every night since the day we met.
I've been looking to forget the feeling that I had for Veneham so long ago. Fooling myself that any chance of it, would end in a similar sting. But what I felt then and I have in front of me now, are not the same in nature. It's a different feeling, like the pebbled beach here is different from the ones of my last summoning.
Recognizing the fire burning within me for what it is, I lean forward and kiss Rayleigh. He grabs me by the head and kisses me back. We continued savouring the taste of each other until our lungs can't take it anymore and we broke the embrace for air.
His cock rubs against mine. I press my dick against him, making it smash against his fat pad and cresting over his belly. His eyes open wide at the size of it.
“You are big all over.” he says nervously.
“It's all for you.” I say and I continue to rub myself against him, I continue like this for a few seconds. His shock turned to need on his face telling me all I needed to know, he wants this as much as I do. So, I grab his undergarments and pull them away.
“Wait, I have something that could work.” he said, extending his arm to one of his bags, the content of them was food, tons of it. He grabbed a piece of ham glazed to perfection and soaking with juices, yanking a bite of it with a pleased expression as the grease and juices dripped into his chin and moobs.
“Do you think this has enough grease?” I asked, eyeing the ham.
“This is the greasiest, juiciest and most seasoned ham in all of town, if this doesn't work. Nothing will.”
Without thinking too much of it, I grab the ham and rip a chunk of it with my bare hands, they get saturated with fat. With one hand I smeared the grease on his exposed hole as I slowly got my plump fingers inside of him, with the other I ate more of the delectable piece of meat.
The first digit makes him moan, looking at me with desire. My fingers have grown, covered with a thick layer of fat making the job of adjusting his hole more complicated. I see his eyes desperate for more and I take the last chunk of meat before grabbing him by the legs and raising his hole to my face.
I lick the entrance and the taste of the ham still coats it, the taste is magnificent. I can tell it's the work of Zackary, that evil genius. But the taste of the seasoned meat mixing with the taste of Ray’s skin makes me go wild eating him out like there is no tomorrow.
He moans, yelps and munches more of the ham as I get my tongue deeper inside of him. I can't get enough of his taste but I need to stop when he says
“Please Bell, wait. You are getting me close and I want you to put it in. I've waited enough. I'm ready.” he said.
Placing his back against the sand I present the tip of my cock at his hole. I borrow from his hands the piece of ham he’s been attacking and rub it all over my length, when I'm fully soaked I put the ham back in his mouth.
“Finish it before we are done.” I said passionately.
He continues to eat with reckless abandon as I enter him. He adjusted to me with a grunt, working my way slowly into him, each pulse of his insides making me go crazy.
When I'm halfway in, he said “Get the rest in, I want it”
I try to be gentle but I can't deny his request and with a single trust I open my way into him. His body wraps around me, warm and soft as he moans for more.
I pull back before my pelvis thrusting against him, the hit driving him crazy
“Come on, go faster. I want more.” he said while ripping chunk of meat
Picking up speed, we rut like wild beasts. The sounds of our moans reverberating all over the beach. The trust of my hips matching the crashing of the waves to the shore. Till I feel myself get close and I ask
“Do you want me to come inside?”
He moaned and said “Yes, fill me with your cream.”
And with a roar, my last trust came deep within him. We both climax and I feel the shots of cum being drained out of me by the bucket. His eyes widen as I continue to shoot, filling him by the second. Even in this I can push him to take more.
When my dick pulls out of him, flows of thick cum exit his hole.
Ray looks at me, showing me his empty hands.
“Finished the ham Bell, what's my price?” he said.
“What about round two?” I reply, kissing him deeply.
We continued rutting there for hours, only stopping to eat the bags filled with food Ray brought. Fuckin this much opens the appetite.
Taking one last soak at the beach we bask under the sun, cleaning ourselves of the grease and cum. With our things gathered, we make our way back home.
In the wagon we stay silent letting the wind dry our hair, letting the sound of nature relax us and our legs rub against one another. Not wanting to stay away for even a minute.
When we get back home we decided that the best thing to do was start living together, Charles' house was nice. But I already spent so much time with Rayleigh, especially after today it only made sense to take this step.
Autumn began and with the change in season came new developments in town. For starters, Miriel had a lot of work upgrading everyone's wardrobes. It was bound to happen with how much the food has affected everyone's waistlines.
A lot of the heavy work that keeps the town running is now done by Veneham or the three of us. Making some business trade with the one currency they need to pay us, food and lots of it.
So, to keep their doors open, most restaurants upped their stock to satisfy our ever-expanding appetites, the human customers, and the eventual trade between restaurants, when one of us cleans them out of a specific ingredient for the day.
And what happens when one of us doesn't go and ravage a restaurant for a day or two after they fill their pantries? They upscale the portions of their other clients to prevent losses. After a while, the regular portions just continued to grow alongside their customers.
The work for the festival has also contributed to the growing population. The different cooking competitions have sparked a flame in the hearts of every cook, professional or novice.
Loads of food get cooked daily, each cook trying to up their game. Which means plenty of opportunities for everyone to eat the best meals of their lives.
The number of ovens in town proves to be subpar with the high demand. For instance, the cooks participate in the pie competition at the festival. They need another oven to run the practice tests of their pie recipes. The owner of the pottery store has been lending his oven to them.
But then comes the issue of what to do with hundreds of uneaten pies. They don't want Veneham to eat their unperfected pies. So, they need someone to “dispose of them”, without Veneham smelling them from a mile away.
That leads Ray and me to the pottery shop. The cooks came to him for the job, at first he was offended to know they see him as worthy of the rejected pies. Then the idea of eating a tower of sweet delight with me makes him reconsider.
He arranged for us to eat the pies in the pottery shop, while the owner was out doing some errands. We are led to a massive room full of shelves with pots and basses. In the center of the room, there is a massive table that has been cleared up for us, and beside it, the tray trolley. The trolley is filled with pies of all types, waiting for us to “dispose” of them.
The shop owner said he would be out for a couple of hours, and after some warning to be careful with his other projects in the room, he left.
“A couple of hours, we should be able to finish them by then.” Ray said.
“I have seen you deal with bigger meals just this week.” I replied
He looked at me with a proud grin, slapping his belly and saying, “This tank needs to be filled to keep the muscles growing.”
I caress his belly and reply “let's get you filled up then.”
The table is placed with some pies and we sit down to start our feast. We haven't finished the first round of pies when Rayleigh´s spoon falls to the ground.
“Oops, oh well, I won't use a dirty spoon and we didn't bring more. So…” he says, grabbing a big chunk of pie with his bare hands and bringing it to his lips, moaning as the taste fills his mouth.
“Oh yeah these blueberry ones are the best,” he adds.
The more we explore each other's taste the more we learn what makes the other one tick, and Rayleigh has noticed I melt whenever he acts like a glutton. It has helped to keep him motivated to continue stuffing himself, especially whenever I'm around, and I'm always around.
“I should be careful, this is my only vest. Bell, would you mind helping me out of this? I would do it myself but It's a bit late for that.” he says licking his blue-stained fingers seductively
My legs work without my permission walking to him, he looks playfully at me as I undress him. His hand is looking for more pie as I remove the open vest. Once I'm done a drip of blueberry juice drips on top of his belly.
“Just in time, good save,” he says.
He uses his finger to scoop the blue drip and suck it away with a satisfied look, this is too good to let waste. Then a cheeky smile spreads on his face as he notices my excitement become noticeable. At my size erections are hard to hide.
“It seems someone is hungry for more than pie?” he adds.
“You know what you are doing.” I replied.
The horny bastard, from all the things he could match up with me. His libido might just win over mine.
“I don't know what you mean.” he says, getting closer to my groin, his breath warm against my trousers.
Without thinking I grab his face, grasping my fingers across his beard before kissing him.
“You had some blueberries in your beard, I just helped you clean up.” I say teasingly.
“Touche,” he replied. Then he places a messy bite on a piece of pie, letting the sweet filling cover his man tits.
“Well, if you are so eager to help come get on with it.” he says.
I take out my vest, get on my knees in front of him, and push him against the chair.
His chest has filled out under a thick layer of hair, resting on top of his belly while keeping their round shape. I grab them with gusto, and without breaking eye contact, I lick away, savouring his soft, jiggling breasts.
His pleased expression fueled my desire as I bit his nipples and licked the areolas around them. He moans at my eagerness and continues to drip more of the pie over his body.
The juices drip and run down his chest and into his belly, and I continue to travel alongside them. Going down to his fuzzy belly I take my time licking every inch of softening flesh, sticking my tongue into his belly button and surprising myself as I can stick my tongue all the way in. I wonder if we continue on the same path if I will be able to fuck him here as well one day? His love handles grew to massive rolls pooling to his sides and going all over his back, making me go insane as I held them, with the occasional bite, drawing out his whimpers for more.
When I finished flickering my tongue over his treasure trail, he huffed for air, looking at me desperately. So I stand up, look into his eyes and say.
“You are pretty clean now, but seeing you eat those pies has opened my appetite. Why not trade places.”
My pulsing erection tents my trousers with the wet spot made as I serviced him. He gulps, bracing for what's to come.
With a single pull, I expose my throbbing member. Energy fills his eyes as he drops to the floor in a loud thud. I rub my length across his face leaving a trail of precum.
He marvels at its size, his eager eyes amuse me. While many would coward over the titanic task he finds pleasure in how much his body has adapted to me. How his body was made for me, and how mine was made for him. From how much he has filled out, jiggling at the most minimal movement and making my dick react every time. To his mouth and ass being able to handle every inch of me while staying as tight as ever.
And all I can think of is how much I want him to grow more, to take more of me, to make me grow more as well. More of everything.
With a cheeky smile, he rested his lips over my tip as I grabbed a whole pie and got ready to eat. This is how a good meal is served.
“I'm still in the mood for sweets, why not share?” he says, eyeing the pie.
“Oh, of course,” I replied nonchalantly.
In a second I get my dick to ram into the pie I was holding, covering it with filling and crumbles of the crust. He looks dumbfounded at my sudden movement, but his eyes flare for it as I present the improvised meal.
Without saying a word he starts to lip the length of my cock. Circling the tip and making his way down, stopping to savour my skin mixed with the sugar and blueberry jam. After enough preparation he gets my dick inside his mouth, slowly allowing inch by inch of meat to enter. His throat takes a minute to adjust before he continues, slowly getting some movement.
Grunts and moans escape his throat, making me buzz with each one. Once he is more comfortable his movements become pick up speed, I gasp while his tongue dances, doing circles over his cock.
By the time his nose is at the base of my cock, smelling my pubes and drool leaking from the corner of his mouth, I'm ready to fuck him into next week. But I continue to eat with reckless abandon, letting drips of pie land on my skin. He bops my dick in and out of his mouth, licking the base of my dick as he goes down. My hips buck involuntarily looking for release, then he pops his head off from my cock.
“Continue to eat Bell, I won't let you waste away while I have my meal,” He says.
I didn't realise I had stopped, just enjoying his mouth. At his comment, my assault on the pies continued. Every chew and gulp made him speed up his movements, making me eat with even more eagerness. I was desperately eating like a madman and bucking my hips into his skull as I finished my second pies. With a satisfied belch signalling another defeated pie, he finally decided I was ready for release.
Focusing on my tip he makes my world melt, licking every sweet spot on my meat. I could feel my balls tense and rise as my climax approached. With a final buck and a loud moan, I came down his throat.
I was so deep in his throat that my cum must be going straight to his guts, but I know he likes to taste me. So I start to pull out as he greedily drinks every drop. Something comes over me and I pull out of his mouth even against his whimpering protest.
My dicks continues to fire jets of cum, painting his pleased face and torso. I grab one of the pies letting the last few pumps of milk land on top of it. When I'm done he gets his tongue to clean my still dripping cock.
He was pumping his erection as he worked mine. I slap his hand away and say.
“You won't cum from just that, I take better care of you Ray.”
I make him stand up and kiss him deeply, the taste of blueberry and my cum mingles in our mouths.
“Now get on the table, you are ready for the main course,” I add putting the cum laced pie on the table.
“The best one for last right?” he says.
“I know how much you love it, but you have to finish it before I make you cum.” I say.
His hands lay in front of the pie, he starts to lean over the table, which groans under his weight.
“Well, you better get started, 'cause I’m hungry,” he says, slowly moving his hips from side to side, showing off his jiggling bubble butt.
His butt and hips have grown the most in the last few weeks, giving him a wide figure. The two globes that form his ass inflated to the point they knock on furniture around the house whenever he moves without checking. They remain perky as they fight for space.
His body has become a testament to strength and dedication, I'm sure one of his kicks could kill someone by their size alone, but for now, his hips are just for my sexual gratification.
Grabbing his sides and parting the massive cheeks that lead to his waiting hole I get ready to service his entrance. I lick the waiting hole as it puckers for attention, when my tongue gets inside him I can taste the seasoned flesh that comes after so many sessions of pure lovemaking.
He moans with a full mouth as I continue to enter him, by the time his gaping hole is ready for me, he is huffing with excitement.
“Give it to me, I need it now,” he says.
My dick is slick with drool and cum from his blowjob, and the precum from my excitement as I ate him out. Even after coming so much not too long ago, I feel myself getting ready for another shot. I start to rub the tip of my dick against his hole letting the pre and some pressure open my way through his body. He moans and begs for more as I start to get more of my meat inside.
I try to go slowly but he is ready for more, so he bucks back getting the last few inches of dick inside. A satisfied moan escapes him.
“Yes, fill me up,” he says as he continues to eat.
This horny fucker is trying to prove a point, dont be gentle, I can take you, give me more. And I'm happy to oblique. With a slap to his ass, I pull myself out of him and back inside in a firm trust. He gasps and I continue, any consideration for his smaller body being impaled in my meat escaping my mind.
We continue going, burps, slaps and moans fill the room. For a moment I worry for the owner showing up at any minute but a bigger voice in my head drowns everything. “More, faster, harder, fill him more, make him fatter with your milk.”
My dick vibrated with the final thrust into his hole, and we both erupted with moans that reverberated throughout the entire shop. My cum continues to fill him when I feel my last burst of cum coming and I pull out to paint his back with them. I lay over him at the table, embracing each other in the afterglow of the moment. But our shared weight makes the table split in half.
After dusting off from the crashed table Ray shows me how he managed to finish his last two pies while we fucked. I managed to get my fill while he gathered the pieces of the table in a couple of trash sacks he found in the corner of the room. We will repay him the table eventually, at least we managed to keep the rest of his projects intact.
After most of the room was back in order we settled in the chairs to let out bloated bellies to digest.
“You know, Veneham saw me walking here. He didn't even recognize me. That's how much I have grown.” -he said.
With a proud expression, he flexed his arms in a double bicep pose before he burped. I laughed and matched his pose.
“You look great. But there is always space for more.” I say patting his taunted belly.
As we continued to live together, the festival grew closer, the idea of beating Veneham remained in my mind but its relevance diminished as my attention was drawn to the man beside me.
What I have here is perfect.
Are you a Belfort fan? ; )
Editor: @bee-wg
<<First Chapter / <Previous Chapter / Next Chapter >>
Once I made it into Zackary’s house, the scent of food assaulted my senses.
The table was filled with my favourite dishes from the last few weeks, and Wilkin had a pleased expression. I would be more suspicious of the array before me, but I waited long enough for my meal.
“I asked Zackary to make your favourites.” -he said with a grin.
I shot him a perplexed look without stopping my chewing on the pork roast. His smug smile showed how pleased he was with himself as I ate.
“You were paying attention to what I liked?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“You wear your emotions on your sleeve, Veneham, or at least when you eat. Everyone can tell by your expression when you like a meal, not to mention how loud you are about it,” he answered.
“I'm not that obvious,” I say, frowning.
“Maybe, oh have you tried this candied fruit Zackary did? It's to die for, why don't you try it? He said, offering a big plate filled with fruits of all shapes and colours. I didn't hesitate, reaching out to a handful of them. With a moan accentuating the moment, Wilking looked at me with a wicked smile.
“It seems like you liked that one.” He said, writing down in his journal.
“Yeah, smartass,” I say while Zackary holds a laugh, and Wilkin continues to bring dishes to me from the other end of the table.
From that day forward, Wilkin has made a personal challenge to write down my favourite dishes, Zackary getting the list at the end of the week and making a massive feast.
Things in town slow down; there is no longer a constant hurry to save everyone from the sickness. So, Wilkin continued to find reasons to keep our contract going, from making me carry materials across town to healing other illnesses. The dumb bastard thinks he is playing me. The amount of food I’ve gotten from these easy jobs is amazing.
He offered to simplify matters moving forward, he summoned me later during the day, and I get to sleep in. It gives me enough time to get summoned outside my bedroom and not destroy it with the vortex again.
Today is one of those days. I wait in the plain patch of rocks in front of my house, watching the hell bison walk in the distance. Their stomps resound all the way to where I'm seated.
My back lays on the ground, watching the “sky” that pools above us. The same lava and fire that drips over us, forming stalagmites and pools of lava that give hell its cavernous nature, only makes me crave the blue open sky of the human realm.
The drippings of lava are not the worst after you get used to them though. They fall occasionally forming the irregular rock pillar that comes from hell, giving it a cavernous appearance. Since we can't get burned, they are more disgusting than harmful.
When the from heaven situation settled, we came to accept this was our new existence. It came with the task of making houses, roads, the whole deal. In my case, I stayed in this spot for years throwing my axe to the fire above. The lava would splash and crash here, giving me a few minutes to pick it up and form what today is my house. It took so ungodly long because if the lava stays put for too long, it solidifies and becomes useless.
My daydreaming of the awful construction practices of hell came to a screeching halt when Alph jumped me out of nowhere.
“Veneham! It's been weeks. Where have you been?!” said Alph on top of me, nagging.
“Alph, he’s been in the human realm. How can you forget after the three hundred times he has said it and declined to take us with him?” said Belfort with crossed arms and an angry expression.
“You are right! Veneham, why don't you want us in the human realm?” said Alph, shaking me like a rag doll.
I wrestle with Alph trying to get him off of me, till I have him under my arm like a lug.
“Well, for starters, It's not like you can just hitch a ride with me on the summoning vortex. Someone needs to summon you,” I reply with confidence in hopes they believe my bullshit.
“You don't know that, nobody has tried it before,” Belfort says, raising an eyebrow.
“And you want to be the first unfortunate soul to try?” Mineral replies beside him.
“Fine, what I don't understand is. If everyone there kisses the earth you pass on, why not make some of them summon us?” Belfort asked with defeat.
“It's not so simple, I can't just start a cult and get you all up there. Besides, you don't want to be subjected to their menial tasks.” I replied.
A part of me wants them to come along, a small part, that part is hard to listen to when the biggest voice in my head screams Not in a million years!
They would either make a mess if left to their own devices or, most importantly, they would eat my offerings.
“Well, the menial task seems to make you less broody, also the food seems to be enough of a reason to try and go.” Mineral says while poking me on the sides.
I might have gained a few pounds in the last few months, but nothing noticeable. My abs possibly have less definition and there are slight pinches of fat on my sides but the extra weight only makes me more striking.
“You three wouldn’t understand the strict training regimen that leads to getting this body. It takes a lot of food and work to become this strong, take it from the strongest demon in hell.” I say with a cocky grin.
“That's amazing, you do look stronger. Your arms are bigger.” Mineral says.
I flex my arms in a double bicep pose, it might be softer but all that matters is that they are bigger.
“Your legs look thicker,” Alph adds.
Putting my hands on my sides, I flex my legs, which are as big as tree trunks. They are starting to rub together, a testament to how much I've walked around town.
“Even your pecs are meatier as well,” Belfort halfheartedly said.
With a cocky smile, I bounce them. They droop a bit, but it's to be expected with their magnitude.
“Your stomach pushes out with the weight of your hard work.” Mineral said.
My hand slaps my abdomen and I smile with pride. My abs might have faded a little, but they are not that great anyway. I've never realised all the hard work I have done to grow this thing.
“And your butt has almost grown double its size as well,” Alph added.
That's irrelevant.
“I would love to train and grow like you do! I want to be the strongest demon in hell as well.” Mineral says.
Belfort looks horrified when he asks, “Spit it out already then! What is this strict regimen? Stop dangling the perfect deal you have up there, especially if you don't mean to share the details!”
I haven’t seen him so exasperated in a long while. Before I get ready to make some elaborate lie about how I fight bison in the human realm to stay strong, Wilkin finally summons me. Never in my wildest dreams would I believe the idea of him calling for me would be relieving, but here I am.
I drop Alph from under my arm and he runs beside Mineral before the pillar of fire collapses on top of me.
“Look at that, my strict regime calls. Don't worry about the details guys, without human food it's just not the same. Besides, you couldn't handle the pressure.”
The last thing I see before the vortex sucks me in is Mineral Waving in my direction, Alph doing the same but with a sad expression, and Belfort who screams at the top of his lungs, “You self-centred son of a bit-”
I look down at my midsection as the fire vortex leads me to Wilkin’s house. Maybe It's getting bigger than I thought, just barely enough to grab. I have been eating more as of late, but I must be getting stronger from it. I've never been this big before. My days in the human realm are also filled with heavy lifting, and in order to get even stronger, I must eat more of the human offerings.
Wilkin’s house appeared before my eyes, we already knew our routine. I head upstairs and change into my human clothes while he reads from his journal the plans for the evening. He's been organising a festival with the townsfolk to celebrate this year's harvest. After I'm ready, we head out. It might be too late for breakfast but I can compensate with an extra large snack or two with our next job.
We heard something crashing in the kitchen on our way out of the house. A cup fell from one of the counters, shattering on the floor. I look around, trying to understand what made it fall when Wilkin enters and says.
“Don’t worry about it. I likely put it too close to the edge this morning.”
I leave the cup shards on the counter for him to dump later. Outside Wilkin’s house lay garden chairs and tables all over his front yard. A while back, people started showing up at Wilkin’s doorstep, asking me to check on their medical problems. At first, I thought that the greedy bastards couldn't get enough of me. But then I realised how fragile their lives can be. In hell, humans get all types of punishment but just regenerate.
Initially, it was as simple as squishing a lemon in a glass of water and healing them with my powers. They would pay in food, of course.
But when word spread that I was healing people with a hundred percent success rate for food and new recipes instead of riches, humans from all over the country started to show up in waves. The different recipes from the other towns made the hustle of treating so many people worth the time. Some travellers came with small tokens of gratitude, but after they saw some of the portions the locals brought, the standard size for my payments became common knowledge. The bigger, the better.
After a while, the influx of patients slowed down, but the area became a gathering point for the town. People now bring food, wine and other snacks to pass the time and relax under the shadow of the tents I set up.
The town saw a new flow of riches as travellers came to our makeshift clinic, which meant expanding in some ways to cover the demand. So, to keep increasing my food source, I had to help around town in more ways than fixing a few broken backs.
For starters, the quality and variety of food around town has improved with the exchange of recipes and tools with other towns. I can testify it was true. After all, I made an effort to try every dish the town had to offer.
In order to prepare some of these dishes, the ingredients need to be bought and transported here in bulk from outside town.
The raw materials are delivered to town and I deliver them to the different pubs and Inns around. The bags are a breeze to move around for someone with my strength, but the occasional snack on the sausage or cheese helps me to keep a good pace.
“Veneham, this is the third time you've eaten all of my cheese before the delivery gets here.” the robust woman owner of an Inn says while rubbing her temple after I delivered her stock for the week.
“You know how it is with Veneham, don't worry about it Louise, next time he will bring the cheese,” said her companion.
“Just because he will drink all your milk instead,” her little human said with a laugh.
Maybe I did eat her full stock of cheese, but without me, she would have to deal with the fog, horses, and carriage here when she could spend the time working on her business. And my time is valuable too! Especially as the temperature continued to drop in the middle of winter.
Every time I think Wilkin will stay put for the day, he finds an excuse to go out making preparations for the festival, talking with the merchants at the market, organising the cooks for the food strands. Sometimes I think he would drop dead if he stopped working.
The snow covers every road making it impossible for anyone to move around. So, every other day we need to shovel the pathways or else I get an influx of injured humans at the clinic from “frozen road” accidents. Well, it's more accurate that I have to shovel while the humans look from the windows of the inn, damn winter doesn't seem to end.
The worst part of the season was not the extra work or the snow making me walk like an idiot. But no piece of food stays hot for more than a second as I walk outside.
I have to resort to using hell fire to heat up my food on the walks back to Wilkin’s house. I don't like using hell fire since it has this disgusting smell of sulphur, it reminds me of home sweet home, but it will do for now.
Wilkin sees me heating up a piece of bread and asks.
“You can make fire with your hands?”
“What can't I make?” I reply, biting the piece of bread.
“You could defrost the roads with that right?” he says, excitement exuding off him.
“I don't do party tricks” I reply, he looks at me disappointed but doesn't try to push the matter further.
“If you give me your bedroom I will do it, your bed is fluffy,” I add,
He continues to walk and shrugs it off saying “No, It's okay.”
“What about a massage? A clear pathway for a massage is a good bargain.”
“Nah, I'm fine,” he replied.
“Ughhh fine, you cheapskate. I will do it just because I know you can't afford it.” I say aggravated.
He snickers a bit as I flash fire from my hands into the frozen road, the fire spreads in an instant and it stenches like Lucifer himself had a walk here. Wilkin covers his nose as the smell hits him and I chuckle as he says.
“Let's not do that again okay.”
“No more party tricks then”
The rest of winter passed without much changes, except more of the humans are depending on me breaking my back for them. By the time spring came, I was ready for a much-deserved break. Laying in the spring grass on a slow day, the flowers surrounding me, and the peaceful sounds of nature lulling me to sleep.
Wilkin had other ideas though, the better weather only encouraged him to work extra time for the festival.
That implied I also had to work extra hours to help with the festival. So my time to rest on the fields was cut shortly. One of the first things he asked me to do was help gather wood for the stands, stages, and other facilities the event would use. I would go to the depths of the woods with the lumberjacks to cut down trees with my axe, they would cheer and gasp every time I chop a tree with a single strike.
Well most of them, Rayleigh is also with us, and for some reason, he is always looking at me with the same squinting constipated expression. In any case, I don't have time for his face.
“You can't just cut a single tree and go. There is more to be done here.” Rayleigh shouted.
The rest of the men started to cut and clean the tree I had chopped.
“Cut him some slacks, Ray. He has saved us hours of work just with this,” a burly man said.
I recognized him from the pub. The man had a light beard and an imposing physique, dusted with a good amount of boody hair. Wilking told me his name was Randolph, and that he was popular around town for having the biggest appetite in town. Or at least until I I showed up.
“Yeah, hey Veneham here catch, my wife made some sandwiches for the go, have one. Thanks again for the help.” said a human while throwing me a few sandwiches wrapped in cloth. I took them all.
In the corner of my eye, a big figure moved behind a nearby tree. I got distracted when one of the guys said, “That might be one of the new guys in town, they’ve been coming here to help with the festival.”
“Veneham, are you joining the festival's competitions? My wife is determined to win the cooking contest and you would do well in the eating challenge. Nobody could beat you if you joined. Well, maybe those new guys could. One of them is even taller than you,” said the same human.
“I can beat anyone in any competition.” I said as I cracked my knuckles.
“Slow down champion, it’s an eating competition not a brawl.” said the human as the group laughed.
My food intake has doubled with all of the new work, which means that I've grown more. At this rate, I will be unstoppable by the time the festival rolls around.
Even when I have grown used to my clothes fitting me like a second skin I can't deny my ever-expanding body has made some of my new garments unusable.
A few months ago, when the stupid trio mentioned the padding on my side, I could ignore it. Now they have grown to full love handles making my waist less narrow than what I'm used to. The slightly droopy chest is now almost about to rest on top of my belly. Which is swelling in front of me, opening my vest more by the day. The soft texture has allured the people in town who playfully pat or rub it as I go about my day. The only reason I allow them to do it is so they can worship a man's most powerful form. It also helps that the rubbing is oddly comfortable.
Taking this into account, I have visited Miriel for new clothes every so often.
“My clothes have not lasted you that long, big guy, you wouldn't be growing out of them just to see me, right?” she says with a laugh.
“I wouldn't grow just to see you. This is for me to keep getting stronger,” I say, puffing my chest and belly.
“Certainly. But I would keep my eyes open; some guys around town are catching up to your size. I had one of them here not too long ago asking for new clothes as well. Even Rayleigh has been on a growing spree,” Miriel says while struggling to measure my waist.
“I haven't seen anyone like that in town, maybe I can meet them someday.”I replied
But sadly I don't, No matter how much time I spend in town we never cross paths.
Not long after my last encounter with Miriel, she gave up trying to keep up with me as she started to design the clothes around the open vest. It adds to my striking build while granting free access for everyone to admire the growing gut.
I’m rubbing my stuffed belly through the vest when Wilkin brought up the idea of promoting the festival, even out of the borders of Rothwell.
“I could convince them to trade some spices with us or leave some flyers around,” he said before a long-winded ramble ragdoll
“We just finished breakfast, can't we just wait before leaving?” I say feeling the food coma hit me. Before I can fully fall asleep he shakes me like a ragdoll.
“No, the trip is long and we have to do a lot there,” he replied.
He couldn't pull me from this chair when I first was summoned, much less now that I have grown to this size. That doesn't stop him from trying; His hand sinks into my sides and he tries to get me to move. I just chuckle at his eagerness, that's when a grin shows on his face.
“When we are done at the market, I also wanted to try some of their food you know? Invite the best cooks to come and share their dishes with us. But you are right, we can wait. If it becomes too late we can come back and skip a meal, besides there is enough food here as it is.” he says.
I looked at him in disbelief, that sleazy weasel thinks I don't know what he is doing? My still stuffed belly rumbles, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to try the new grub. And if we return early I can pass by Zackary’s place for a feast before going to hell.
“Okay slugger, what are you waiting for? Get your things ready or do I have to do everything here?” I reply standing up from my chair.
He snickered and got going while I put on a fresh set of clothes. We waited on the side of the road till a wagon showed up to take us to the neighbouring town, it had two people already inside it without counting the driver.
The horse pulling the carriage looked healthy but we doubted it could carry me and the rest of the people in it. The driver reassured us he could get there in a blink and Wilkin shrugged the worries away. I still have my doubts, but to hell with it. If the carriage collapses under my weight or the horse combusts from exhaustion, it will be on the driver not on me.
The wagon creaked like it could split at any second, its wheel screeching under the collected weight of our party. But what gave up first was our horse, he seemed ready to combust for real, huffing for dear life.
“Okay that probed to be a waste of time, I will walk.” I say getting off the wagon.
“Wait for me,” said Wilkin.
“It's fine, you can stay in the wagon. I will stay close to the wagon.” I replied.
“Nonsense, I wanted you to accompany me, not to escort a wagon. Also, I'm not too sure you won't get distracted and lost on the way there.” he said as he got beside me on the dirt road.
“We will walk there, and if an empty wagon crosses our path we could rent it” he added.
I sighed and stood beside the tired horse, using my healing power, the poor guy stood with renewed energy. The horse might have failed to take us there but it's not his fault his owner is an imbecile.
With the wagon a few meters ahead of us, we walk our way to the nearest town. The sun shines over us with the occasional cloud, giving the slightest shade and the opportunity for Wilkin to stop complaining.
“Are you looking forward to the festival, Veneham?” he asked
I looked at him, taking me a minute to reply. I never thought he cared for my opinion on the matter.
“I guess so” I finally said.
“Just a guess? I have to work harder to make it more interesting then,” he replied with a hearty laugh.
“It would be more interesting if I could be the judge,” I replied.
“With your appetite, I could make you a judge for the cooking competition… Well, then you would also eat everything without leaving a crumb for the other judges,” he says.
“I could be the only judge. No problems then, right?” I reply, salivating at the idea of eating everything at the festival with the excuse of choosing a winner.
Wait, what’s with me whoring myself for human food lately?
“No, you will just say everything is good and ask for seconds. Zackary would be a better judge,” he replies, looking at me with an evil grin.
After a chuckle, he adds,
“Besides, there will be more than enough food for you, Veneham. There will be stands selling all types of food, even the event dishes. I'm sure everyone is counting on you to come and try their creations.” he says.
If that's the case, the matter changes. I can't let them down after they plan to cook so much for me. There is no other option but to try every recipe in the festival. It's a job I'm willing to accept.
Our conversation was interrupted when we reached a wooden bridge. It passes over a small creek, but what catches our attention is how dilapidated it looks.
“I have seen some people in their dead bed looking more sturdy than this thing,” I say
“Don't worry about it. I'm sure it must be safe,” He replied.
Wilkin stands on the bridge that creaks with every step he makes. He looked at me confidently and took a careful step. The raggedy thing groans loudly, I can almost see the wood bend under my feet. Wilkin walks without a care in the world as I see the bridge wobble, but it holds us to the other side. Or so it did, till my feet burst through the wood and splashed with the creek shore.
Wilkin jumped from the sudden crash. When he realises what happened he started laughing, holding his stomach.
“I guess you are heavier than the carriage now,” he said laughing.
“The carriage must have weakened the bridge,” I replied as I stepped out of the bridge.
My face must radiate anger cause Wilkin tried to hold his laughter, but when he saw a frog resting on top of my shoe, he continued to laugh like there was no tomorrow.
I used an old wind spell to dry the damn shoe, and by the time we reached the neighbouring town, Wilkin finally stopped laughing.
The town we arrived in reminds me of Rothwell when I was first summoned, just with less sick people.
Workers march to the fields with bitter expressions as we pass them by. Through windows we see women working their homes, and vendors selling their goods in the farmer's market. It was unremarkable, but it reminded me how much Rothwell has improved in such a short time. For a second I wondered what would have been of them if Wilkin hadn't summoned me when he did.
I watched Wilkin move from stand to stand, explaining excitedly his sales pitch at the farmers market. The vendors seemed to respond to his promises of a shared benefit if they helped with the festival. Sealing every deal with a radiant smile before moving to the next stand. He looks confident, in his element even, compared to the trembling mess that summoned me months ago.
We spent most of the day in the farmers' market, sealing deals and ordering supplies for the town. When my belly rumbles for a proper meal, Wilkin agrees to wrap up the day at an inn or tavern. While we looked for a place to eat, he would fish out of his bag flyers for the festival and plaster them on any wall that attracted his attention.
At the center of the town, we found an Inn. When we entered, the aroma of freshly made food hit me right in the face. It's not as exotic as the food at home, but It will do. The place is full of people; some turn to look when we enter. Wilkin walks to one of the few empty spots in the Inn, a long wooden table with some people already in it.
“Good evening folks. I hope you don't mind my friend and me sitting here,” said Wilkin.
Some of the men shrugged, others nodded, and we sat down waiting for someone to take our order.
A slender woman with a tall comb of hair comes to our table.
“Hi, I'm Amelia. Let me know when you are ready to order,” said the woman, eyeing me while setting the menus on the table.
Wilkin takes out his notes and starts to write items from the menu. He looks at me and says.
“What do you say to some scones, ribs, mashed potatoes, meat stew, roasted vegetables, and cheesecake for dessert?
“I say the faster it gets here, the better.” I reply with an impressed look.
Wilkin continued to write down my favourite dishes through the months, so we made this game where he tried to come up with my order before I did. He guesses that I will be drawn to them even when we come across new recipes.
The woman takes the order and walks back to the kitchen. Once she’s gone, a burly man sitting beside Wilkin looks at him and says.
“Don't you think that's too much, little guy?”
“Oh, that's not for me. It's all for him.” Wilkin replies, signalling to me.
“The portions here are fairly big,” said the man.
“Don't get in foreigner´s business, Matthew. If they order too much food it's their problem.” said an older man across the table.
The burly man apologizes for the intrusion, but Wilkin chuckles and replies,
“There is no need to apologise, we appreciate the concern. It's funny; I haven't heard anyone doubt Veneham could eat this much in a while.”
Wilkin leaned forward on the table and said to the older man,
“This foreigner knows his way around food. He never leaves anything go to waste,”
“Pfff sure boy, when he ends up leaving half of that food for the rats. Don't come asking for a refund,” said the old guy, taking a swing of his beer.
“Actually Wilkin, I think we should change the order,” I add.
Wilkin looks at me incredulously.
“I want two extra ribs. I can smell the meat from here and it's opening my appetite,” I say with a smug grin.
Wilkin looks back at the old guy with a proud expression before replying to me.
“Of course, that gut of yours is trained for more food than any regular man, right?”
I nod, Wilkin calls for the waiter and I look at the rest of the men at the table. They all focus on us while Wilkin details my order and his.
While we wait Wilkin rambles on his plans for the festival. The more he talks, the more his volume rises, getting the attention of some of the men at the table.
“I talked with Mr. Goltford, and he agreed to give us enough apples to set up some bobbing apple stands,” Wilkin says.
“What is that?” I ask.
“Oh, right you must have never played it. We put some apples in a huge barrel with water, and you have to try to catch one using only your mouth,” Wilkin answered.
“That sounds kind of easy,” I reply.
The guy beside Wilkin snorted.
“Sorry, but that's the point. It's supposed to look easy but harder than it looks. Most people end up soaked without being able to grab anything,” he said with a laugh.
Before I could reply, our food arrived. As soon as the scones were set on the table, I ate one in a single chomp.
“Well, maybe it will be easier for him,” said the human, looking transfixed on my eating. I do have that effect on people.
When food gets in front of me, I get lost in the textures, taste, and fragrance of the dish I’m devouring. But lately, it's been easier to zoom out the rest of the world in my food-induced haze. Besides, what could be more important than the next delectable bite of a good feast?
The ribs are cooked to perfection, with the meat tender and juicy, sliding from the bone with so much ease I can rip it off with a single bite. I throw the discarded bones on another plate as I slurp and munch on the chunks of greasy meat.
“He’s eating like a starving beast,” said a farmer in a table beside ours.
“The meat’s juice is dripping on his chest,” added a woman with her date.
They can't get their eyes away from me, transfixed with my voracious appetite. I'm sure they have never seen someone demolish a meal like this. I start to soak a scone in the meat’s sauce, eating it with gusto before going for another. The soft texture of the bread saturated by the meat flavour makes me go on overdrive. Alternating from taking scones with one hand and ripping more meat from the ribs in the other.
When I'm halfway done with them, my hand fishes out the bowl of stew. Bringing it to my lips I drink its contents in massive gulps. I can feel the hot, thick liquid coating my mouth with the rich flavour of herbs and meat. Travel through my throat and filling my gut even further.
I lean back on my chair seeing the mess I have made in my chest and flicker a bit of the sauce that now covers one of my nipples. Licking it away while making eye contact with anyone who dares to look into my gaze.
I rub my belly, basking in the moment when the old man yelps.
“All of that talking and he is already slowing down,”
Nosey jackass doesn't know when to shut up, But I know what will put him in his place. He takes a bite of an apple he is eating before he continues.
“Amelia! pack their food to go before they make even bigger fool-”
His voice gets cut by a massive burp that makes everyone in the room look in my direction.
“Oh, that's better! Let's continue with this snack, and Amelia can you bring more scones? I'm running low here,” I tell the waiter who is looking at me with her mouth wide open.
Wilkin pats the man beside him and says, “See my friend, there is nothing to worry about. He has the biggest appetite in all of Rothwell,”
As more people looked at us the more Wilkin hyped up the moment, and the more determined I was to show off.
“He’s been training to win at the eating contest in ROTHWELL’S HARVEST FESTIVAL,” he says, shouting that last part.
People looked at him with wonder, but their focus shifted back to me as I dipped the roasted vegetables into the mashed potatoes before eating them in a few bites. The potatoes are drenched in gravy, making my vegetable and pure mix all the more savoury and messy.
I suck the tip of my fingers as the last vegetable passes my lips, eating the rest of the potatoes on their own. All the while people from within the inn come to the dining area to see what the commotion is about.
With all the meat, stew vegetables, and scones resting inside me, I focused on the final touch to any meal, Dessert. And how I have to show my new audience how a meal is supposed to be enjoyed.
The waiter woman comes back with a massive cake covered on top with caramelised fruit and cream, placing it on the table with a worried expression.
“This plate is supposed to be shared by a party of four. I will be back with a plate for you, sir,” Said the woman to Wilkin.
He shakes his head saying, “No thanks, I know better than to stand between him and something he set his eyes on,”
The waiter looks at me with a nervous smile and sets the cake in front of me, she hasn't fully turned away when the first bite of cake enters my mouth.
The crust is thin and crunchy, contrasting the soft cheesy filling. The topping is a delight of fruit with jam, with a slight hint of lemon to cut through the cheese. The mix of flavours melts together, my mind dulls as the next spoonful of decadent cake enters me. I crave more of it, all of it now.
I can hear people gasp, clap, cheer, and everything in between. Wilkin hypes me up, getting more attention on us, but I only care to have more of the sweet delight in front of me. That is when my spoon hits the plate and my brain clears up to realise, I have eaten the whole thing.
Everyone looks at me in amusement and I slap the side of my gut, with a thunderous belch that stuns everyone.
The burly man beside Wilkin breaks the silence with a laugh.
“Okay, I was wrong man. That was some show,” he said, clapping.
Everyone follows suit.
“This is just a regular meal for him. Just imagine how he will do at the festival,” said Wilkin with a smug grin as the waiter came back to clean up our table.
“Can we stay for some drinks? I could do with a good beer,” I add.
Some people gasped and I could hear them mutter, “How can he have space for more?”
I will show them how much space I have, and by my second barrel of booze they got the message. When we left, the whole Inn knew my name and the event I was participating at Rothwell.
The sun was setting outside.
We debated about staying for the night, but we decided to get back home now. We didn't walk for too long when an empty wagon passed us. Wilkin managed to get the driver's attention and paid extra to get a solo ride back home. We both exhaled with relief when the wagon held our weights.
The starry night engulfed the sky and we distracted ourselves by looking up as the wagon slowly advanced. I have spent months in the human realm but haven't stared at the night sky that often, not now or in my previous summoning. Maybe it's because It reminds me of heaven or the contrast with the twisted version of the sky in hell.
“We have a good night, the moon is full and the stars are radiant. Sometimes I wonder why I don't do this more often?” Wilkin says.
“Pfft, Because all you do is work?” I reply.
He chuckles before replying. “Maybe, what is your excuse?” he asks.
I don't want to dwell too much on the matter, “Well, it's hard to look at the stars when I spent my nights in hell,”
“Oh right, I didn't think of it,” he replied.
We stay in silence, my eyes start to close. The light, soft sounds of the forest made me fall asleep. Until the loud son of a bitch sits up suddenly the whole wagon shakes.
“You could stay at my place,” Wilkin said.
After some talking, Wilkin and I agreed about moving together. We are basically doing that anyway. The only thing I do in hell nowadays is sleep for the night. Besides, this way I can get my two breakfasts with calm and ease.
In between jobs I get the time to laze around, finally getting to sleep on the fields. It's one of the last days of spring when I'm woken up from my sleep by a small human hitting me straight in the guts. I gasp for air and look around, disoriented.
“It's so soft and bouncy,” said one of Charles’ little rascals.
He ran up the hill while I weighed the ramifications of throwing his small human into the sun. Maybe my face spooked him because the next thing I see is him running up the hill away from me. Regardless, I lay back in the field. Then I open my eyes as the sound of steps approaches me, what I see is the same small human jumping into my belly and bouncing off from it.
While throwing him to the sun sounds good now, he looks at me with a smile. Resting his full body on my belly and patting it like a drum, my anger washes away. I slowly go back to sleep with him still resting on top of me, following suit.
With the heat of summer upon us, I make myself comfortable with the relaxing flow of the river near Charles’s house. Sometimes allowing his smaller humans to come along. I'm not fond of small humans, especially after seeing Davie and Eliah flipping their house the first time I saw them, but they can behave after you dangle them from their legs long enough. They found it funny after the first time I tried it, and now they keep asking me to throw them into the river or dangle them over my head whenever we see each other. They would float with me on the river and treat me as their massive boat to play with till I got bored and dragged them back to their home.
Even with all of the lazing around, I need to get my eight daily meals covered somehow. So, work is never out of my schedule. Most of my work has been at the festival site. The Sun cooks out most of the workers by noon, leaving me to pick up the pace for them. Wilkin has been repaying me appropriately from massive feasts at home, to trying every item on a restaurant menu. The amount of food I'm getting for easy work is perfect, and the season is just starting.
Today I woke up late, after breakfast I made my way to the festival site. The humans will collapse soon enough and they will need me to finish today's work. When I reached the site, they were working on the stage for the eating competition.
The workers drop their tools and rush to greet me.
“Veneham is here!”
“Finally a break!”
“It's the end of our shift,” they say.
They are a shameless group, but I can't blame them. Who wouldn't get this excited to see me work?
“Alright folks, go get a break,” said Wilkin, cutting through the workers.
He made a sign for me to follow him and said, “Morning Veneham, you came just in time.”
The stage was bigger than the rest placed around the festival. It's still on bare bones, missing most of the boards.
“We were placing the first few planks but we were debating if it needed more support beams,” he said.
He looked at me, his eyes exuding curiosity.
“I want you to walk on top of it for a second. If the structures hold your weight, it would be a good point of reference.”
“Fine,” I reply.
I'm a bit annoyed at the idea. Wilkin shouldn't be using me as a guinea pig for something so simple, but a job is a job. I step on the stage, hearing the wooden stairs creak under my weight. Before I could tell Wilkin, how this thing sounded like the decrepit bridge in our trip off town, the step burst under my foot.
He looked at the hole in the wood disappointed. I laughed while getting my foot out of the broken stairway, and he accepted defeat. The whole thing needed reinforcements.
“If it can't hold your weight now, it certainly won't hold you and the other participants later. I guess we are still missing support beams after all,” he said, examining the stage.
“We will need more wood and I know the perfect tree for the job. A few weeks ago, I found a tree that was giving me trouble to cut down. If it’s capable of withstanding my axe, it’s resilient enough to hold the weight,” I reply.
While the humans had their break, Wilkin and I went to the forest, cut the tree, and brought the wood to the festival site. Turning the wood into usable planks was a pain in the ass, and I started to regret coming up with this idea. Wilkin on the other hand, had a sense of accomplishment from the whole ordeal, even when I did most of the work.
“This will be the strongest structure in all of the country. I had my doubts but seeing you struggle to cut that tree convinced me,” Wilkin said.
“I didn't struggle- that much. It was time I got a true challenge in this place,” I reply.
“There will be a true challenge at the festival,” he said with a chuckle.
“As if. I'm mopping the floor with everyone. More than a challenge, I'm getting a good meal out of it,” I say with a smug grin.
He laughs and adds, “Maybe, just make it look like they have a chance. If you pace yourself and make a good show for everyone, I will make sure you end up with the biggest feast of your life,”
“High promises, I hope you can deliver,” I reply squinting my eyes at him mockingly.
“I'm sure of it. We are using the winners of the vegetable and meat competitions as ingredients. So just the best crops of town for the event. And every cook I know is refining their recipes for the event. There is a batch of pies, roasts, and others getting done every day just for that,”
“Where are all of these pies then?” I say in disbelief.
“The cooks are strict with their entries. They don't want you sniffing around for pies they deem as unworthy,” he replies.
“Why? I would eat anything,” I say.
“Yeah, but you would hurt their self-esteem if you don't like it. Especially since you do eat anything,” he said.
“I don't get it, I like everything they have done,” I replied.
“It's not about that, Veneham. They have been upping their game, your appetite keeps growing and their pride in their cooking has grown as well. This is the perfect chance for them to impress you and everyone in town as well,”
We stayed working till the sunset; the new stage looked more sturdy with the hardwood as support, and I even walked on it without breaking through.
Wilkin smiled proudly while telling me all of the things he wants to add to the stage now that the main structure is secured.
“I'm even adding a door to access the supports without having to disassemble the entire structure,” he said, tapping at a small door at the side of the stage.
“Isn't it a bit too small?” I said.
“Of course not, anyone would fit in- well if you keep growing like this, maybe you won't,” he added, patting my middle.
His touch runned a shiver down my spine and I let him rub as much as he wanted. He realized he was taking a second too long and removed his hand with a nervous chuckle. I laughed and pushed myself forward, there is nothing to be embarrassed about. It's only natural to be entranced by all of this.
“We should make things bigger around here, I'm not getting any smaller you know,” I replied.
“I guess you are right, but don't worry about this. The stage is built to last, and if the supports need reinforcement in a few years, I'm sure some of the workers can help out,” he said.
When my stomach started to growl for sustenance, Wilkin said, “I think we did enough for today. Why don't you go home ahead of me? I will pack everything here and catch up to you,”
I agree, making my way back home. Walking down the main street, it dawned on me that everything in town looked so different from how I found it months ago. Every shop is now booming with customers. The streets are filled with the scent of exotic new recipes. New and old faces mingle, their excitement for the festival is palpable in the air.
During my reflection, I crashed against someone who looked just like Rayleigh.
“I'm sorry,” said the man as he walked past me.
It couldn't be him. This human is way fatter than Rayleigh, and I met him not many moons ago.
Regardless I continue my walk, seeing parts of my involvement in every element of progress the town has undertaken since my arrival. It makes all the time and effort worth it.
I haven't felt this happy and fulfilled forever, not even my days in heaven.
The world is not ready for Veneham’s charm and charisma, but we can fix that in due time.
Editor: @bee-wg
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