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Summary: The Frog feels the sting of the Scorpion’s poison and asks, “Why?” (Felix makes a decision.)
Contents (WARNING FOR MAJOR SPOILERS): very minor injury; very vague references to fatal; vore - m/m, size difference, non-fatal, some post-vore, regurgitation
Wordcount: 2,622
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Felix’s throws his gaze wildly about, looking for a witness. It might be late at night, but he’s still out in the open in the middle of a prey neighborhood. If someone happened to look out the window or go for a walk at just the right time.... Felix spins to look at Benji’s house. What if Benji’s mom had seen? Or Brandon? Oh god, what if Camille had seen? Felix had already resolved to stay away from her, but for things to end like this....
But everything is still and everything is quiet.
Felix’s heart is racing which makes the contrasting stillness in his belly even odder. Why isn’t Benji struggling? Surely he must be terrified. Felix just betrayed him in the worst possible way. For a fleeting second, Felix is worried he did something wrong and hurt Benji in the process of swallowing him.
Felix squeezes his eyes shut and stands as still as possible, begging for some indication of life within him. There it is, he’s sure of it. The small expansion and deflation against the lining of his stomach. Benji is breathing.
Felix’s eyes flutter open. He needs to get somewhere private to release Benji, and fast. But where? Certainly not in the Marotta household, but that’s the only nearby place Felix can think of. Or no, the shed. The shed in the backyard. Yes, that would do.
Felix walks as fast as he dares, hunched over and hugging his belly like he’s protecting something precious. And as far as he’s concerned, he is.
He passes the place right around the corner of the house where he told Camille she’d always be safe around him (what a lie that had turned out to be), where he’d kissed her forehead and felt something he hadn’t understood at the time. Felix clenches his jaw until it hurts. He knows now what he felt.
The next moment, he’s at the shed, fumbling with the knob and nearly knocking his head on the doorframe as he stumbles inside. There’s a light inside, Felix knows. He grabs blindly at thin air several times before he finds the pull cord and the shed lights up.
He looks around. Everything is as he remembers it. On one side of the shed lean two bikes. One is Camille’s, passed down to her from Benji. The other used to be Felix’s before he outgrew it and passed it on to Benji. It’s the one Camille would always sit on the handlebars of. The one she went flying off of and skinned her knees. Felix had let her ride home on his back. He’d tended to her wounds himself. Her mom had looked at him with surprise and said he was very kind for someone like him.
For a pred. She had meant for a pred.
Felix feels sick. If she had known then what he would do to one of her children....
He presses the palms of his hands into his eyes and digs his fingertips into his forehead.
What has he done?
He drops his hands. There’s an empty spot before him that would be large enough for Benji to lay once Felix releases him. He needs to release him. Sooner rather than later.
But Felix doesn’t move. He just stares.
He doesn’t want to release Benji, he realizes. Not now, not ever. He very much likes having Benji inside him. He likes how full he feels. He loves the weight of him, how he finally has Benji all to himself. This is what he’s wanted all along, and in no way did following through disappoint. If he lets Benji out, not only would he never have this feeling again, but he’d never have Benji again at all. It would be the end of their friendship.
Felix clenches his fists until his fingers cramp. He hates that he feels this way, like he’s some sort of wild animal. Like he’s some sort of monster. What he wants is his best friend back. He wants to see him smile, hear him laugh. Hell, he even wants to smell his scent again. But there’s something deeper inside him holding him back, telling him not to do it. Benji is his, fully and completely his, and he shouldn’t give him back.
Felix draws quick, shallow breaths, trying to fight that instinct. Benji is a living person, and of anyone, he doesn’t deserve this.
Felix breathes even quicker, trying to hype himself up for the moment. Benji has still barely moved, only a few shifts in position. Felix takes one more breath, the deepest one yet, and contracts his abdomen.
Felix doubles over and cries out in pain as he feels Benji being pushed back up. His eyes burn with tears. It feels like Benji is being ripped from him. For however much better consuming Benji had felt over the prey man, it is the same for how much worse regurgitating him is. Several times Felix finds his throat contracting reflexively to swallow him back down and end the pain, but each time he forces himself to stop. He needs to see this through, and the longer this takes, the more risk there is for Benji.
Finally, Felix feels his jaw being forced open. There’s that unnatural feeling of prey coming back up his throat and past his lips. Benji falls to the ground in a messy heap. His skin isn’t burned but it does look raw. That and he’s soaking wet.
Felix’s throat tightens. He did this to Benji.
Felix takes a few steps back. Benji is unconscious for now, but he’s sure he won’t be happy to wake up to the pred who just consumed him leering over him.
Felix crouches down, trying to make himself look as small as possible while he waits. Inside, his stomach claws at him, absolutely furious to be empty again, to have lost its one perfect prey.
Only a minute ticks by before Benji draws in a gasp for air. His eyes flicker open and he squints in the sudden brightness. It takes several moments for him to take in the room and finally focus on Felix. Benji’s eyes widen.
“So bad news,” Felix starts without thinking, “I lost control there for a bit.”
Benji blinks several times. He still seems confused by his surroundings. Then he‘s able to collect himself enough to wipe his face. It doesn’t do much good because his sleeve is as soaked as his face, but he doesn’t seem to care. He pushes himself into a sitting position, knees drawn close to his chest. He stares at Felix with frighteningly large eyes. His gaze flicks to the door then back to Felix.
Felix scolds himself internally for choosing to crouch right in front of the door. It probably looks like he’s trying to trap Benji inside, which is not his intention.
“Why,” Benji says, his voice coming out hoarse, “why did you let me out?”
Felix balks at the words. “Why did I let you out?” he repeats incredulously. “I feel like you should be asking me why the hell would I consume you in the first place?”
Benji licks his lips then grimaces. “I— I thought that’s what all this was for.”
Even through the rolling pains, Felix can still feel his stomach sink. “What do you mean ‘all this’?”
Benji looks at him like it’s a ridiculous question. “You said you weren’t feeling well but that you needed to see me. Then you spent all of today taking me to all our favorite places, being so kind. It’s more than we’ve done for years but you were so withdrawn. You seemed... sad even though I could tell you were trying to hide it. I didn’t know why, until right as you were pulling me in. I... well, I thought maybe all of today was like a goodbye. Or, I don’t know, an apology for what you planned to do at the end of it all.”
Felix finds himself gaping. Suddenly Benji’s lack of panicking and struggling make sense. “You— you thought I could do something like this to you on purpose?”
Benji’s eyes drop to the ground like he’s ashamed and he mutters, “At this point, I’m not sure what you could do to me.”
Felix stutters for something to say but the only word he can manage is, “Benji.” His voice cracks as he says it.
Benji looks up at him. “Felix,” he says back, his voice barely more than a whisper. “It’s okay. I know you almost did it the other day too, when you grabbed my wrist.”
Felix’s eyes widen and he stands abruptly, nearly knocking his head on the ceiling. Benji draws back, just a little bit, but still Felix notices. “Then why the hell did you agree to see me today? If you knew what— what I might do to you?”
Benji shrugs. “I don’t know. I think because I trusted you and because, despite my better judgment, I still wanted to see you again.” He pauses and his words hang in the air. Then he adds, “And because if someone was going to consume me, I’d rather it be you.”
Felix’s insides melt. “Benji, god... please don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
Felix buries his fist in his gut to stifle another angry wave of pain. “I did all this because I don’t want it to be me.” Then, at Benji’s confused look, he continues, “You’re right. It was a goodbye, but not because I wanted to— to consume you. Well, I did, and that’s just it. That’s what I wanted to tell you, what I needed to tell you, that it isn’t safe for you to be around me anymore. I’ve been trying so hard to control myself around you, Benji, but it’s like this other side of me taking over. This— this monstrous side that just needs to eat, and it wants you more than anything. It won’t stop. It won’t leave me alone—” Felix bites back a gasp as his insides feel like they’re trying to tear themselves apart. He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists into his stomach until the wave passes.
Once he sucks in a breath, Benji asks, “Does it hurt?”
Felix looks down at him. He looks so small, so defenseless curled up there on the ground. Felix manages a nod before sinking to his knees. “Yes,” he breathes arms wrapped tight around his middle. “More than anything.”
There’s a pause then Benji’s voice asking, “How long have you felt like this?”
Felix thinks back. It feels like forever. He barely remembers a time when he didn’t feel like this. “Since not long after high school started.”
Benji’s jaw drops. “Three years? Felix, you’ve felt like this for three years and you never said anything? Why didn’t you talk to me about any of this?”
Felix is at a loss. Isn’t it obvious? “I didn’t want to frighten you.” Then when that sounds like too simple of an answer he goes on, “Or disgust you. I was so ashamed and disgusted with myself. And I was so scared. If I ever hurt you...” Felix shakes his head. “I just knew I couldn’t.”
“Felix,” Benji starts, “are you being serious?”
That’s not the reaction Felix is expecting. And his expression must say so because Benji continues.
“Felix, I’ve known what you are from the beginning. And I’ve known what you’re capable of for the majority of our friendship. What makes you think I wouldn’t understand? I know I probably wouldn’t understand in the way another pred could, but I’d try to. And I’d try to figure something out. The fact that this has been going on for three years and I had no idea? Do you know how badly I wish I had known so I could help in some way? In any way?” He shivers and Felix can’t tell if it’s because he’s cold or because of something else.
Felix swallows. “I just didn’t think— it wasn’t your problem to deal with.” The idea of telling Benji had always felt so completely out of the question, not once did he consider him being okay with it.
Benji rolls his eyes. But then he sobers and meets Felix’s gaze, his expression serious. “Can I ask you something, though?”
“Anything.”
“Was I your first? Have you consumed anyone before me?”
Felix wishes he could make himself as small as Benji. “No,” he says, his voice rough, “you weren’t my first.”
Benji looks away. “I didn’t think so.”
Felix blinks. “You didn’t?”
“No. You felt too... too confident in what you were doing.”
“It was only once,” Felix explains quickly. He feels like he’s just disappointed Benji. “And I let him go too.”
Benji looks back at him, a brow raised. “You did?”
Felix nods, latching on to this chance at redemption. “After the other day when I grabbed your wrist, I was so scared. I was afraid I’d lose control and consume you. I was so worried that I decided I’d rather do it to someone else than to you. So I cornered someone I’d never met before and, well, I did it. I thought if I fulfilled these urges, they’d finally go away.”
Benji’s gaze is unwavering. “And did they?”
Felix nods. “They did, at first. But I felt so bad that I couldn’t finish what I started so I let him go. Then it just made the urges worse.”
Benji doesn’t say anything for a long while.
“When I told them, my parents thought it was you, you know,” Felix whispers in the silence.
Benji straightens. “Me?”
“Yeah. I think they’ve been expecting since the beginning for me to consume you.” Felix hesitates before adding, “I guess they weren’t entirely wrong.”
Benji stares at him so long that Felix begins to feel uncomfortable.
“So what now?” Benji finally asks.
“What now?”
“Yeah. Are you still a danger to me?”
Felix doesn’t need time to consider that one. “Yes.”
“Then what should we do about it?”
Felix’s jaw tightens. “I think... I think we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”
“For how long?”
Felix frowns. “I don’t know. Forever? After we graduate, will it even matter?”
Benji sighs. “I guess not.”
Felix doesn’t know what else to say so he pushes himself to standing. He thinks the time for keeping himself under control around Benji is about to expire anyway, so this is probably for the best.
After a moment’s hesitation, Benji slowly manages to push himself upright. He sways for a moment and Felix almost reaches out to steady him, but stops himself.
“Is... is this goodbye then?” Felix asks.
Benji looks up at him. “If that’s what you think is best.”
“I do,” Felix says more to convince himself than anything.
“Then yeah, I guess it is.”
They stand unmoving. Felix wants to pull Benji into his arms, give him a proper goodbye, but he doesn’t dare move any closer.
Felix draws a breath through his teeth. “Goodbye, Benji,” he says, his throat tight, his voice quivering slightly.
The expression Benji makes is something akin to pity when he responds with, “Goodbye, Felix.”
They stand there awhile longer. Then Felix reaches for the doorknob, his hands shaking. After more than one try, he manages to grab it and open the shed door. He stumbles out into the dark, the night air surprisingly refreshing on his sweat-beaded skin. He waits until he’s halfway across the backyard to glance back.
He sees Benji silhouetted by the shed’s light, watching him go. Felix forces himself to turn away and not look back.
Hinata’s clothes barely fit over her widened form after her recent binge, her shirt and sweater can only just fit over her chest and even still had a fair amount of underboob showing, her expanded ass and thighs stretched her pants as well to a point where it did very little to leave anything to ones imagination as her asscrack was out for all to see as well as the perfect outline of her cock and balls, it’s okay that her clothes were rendered revealing because of her gains, she liked it like that~
Many a cat owner will tell you of a particularly morbid habit felines have: hunting trophies.
When a cat comes to love and trust their owner enough, they will, on occasion, bring them little hunting trophies as a sign of affection. If they kill a mouse or a bird, they will happily trot over and leave it either on the doorstep or at the feet of their owner. They do the same thing with their mates; it's essentially their way of showing how much they care. "I caught this just for you! Aren't you proud of me?"
Mates typically accept these trophies as food themselves. As for cat owners...they learn to deal with it.
Cheshire has his own way of sharing his affection with his Master, by leaving his own sorts of gifts in a similar manner...though, personally...I could REALLY do without them.
Combining both humor and horrible nastiness together, this is quite possibly my single favorite piece with Cheshire and Rochak that @hooter-n-company has done to date. It was released to FurAffinity in 2020, but I think the two of us had discussed the idea of Cheshire leaving "hunting trophies" as a "sign of affection" for his "Master" a few times well before that. XD
Also, I have NO idea how that bloated belch tank of a cat fit through that door, so don't ask. This is Wonderland, and he DOES have magic on his side, after all. :P
This was an interesting experiment. This commission was ordered by @burpsbelliesgalore. They wanted a post-vore story, focusing on Azul keeping a certain as sentient fat for a whole day, and moving their soul about from one part of his body to another. I thought the idea was appealing and sort of funny, so I decided to give it a try. It was fun to do something a bit new, though I’m not entirely sure when/if I’ll write something quite like this again. We’ll see. :)
WARNING: CONTAINS POST-VORE GOODNESS, SPECIFICALLY INCLUDING SENTIENT FAT, WEIGHT GAIN, VERY MILD DIGESTION, AND A FEW BELCHES. ALSO FEATURES IMPLIED REFORMATION, IMPLIED MACRO/MICRO SHENANIGANS, AND IMPLIED STUFFING. YEAH, LOTS OF IMPLICATIONS. :p ANYWAY, DON’T LIKE? TOO YOUNG? DON’T READ!
GLLLRRRLLLG…
Azul Ashengrotto hiccuped and groaned softly in his sleep. His sea blue eyes opened, blearily glancing about briefly at his darkened and most luxurious dorm room. His glasses sat perched upon his nightstand. It was a cool and quiet night in Octavinelle; the bioluminescent lifeforms and the moonlight that shimmered through the ocean water outside his window provided the only illumination the room had. The housewarden’s head rolled in his soft, satiny pillow; a very mild frown fell across his handsome, pale face as he noticed the time on the clock on his wall.
The frown softened slightly as he turned his head the other way, and saw the white jacket and telltale sash that indicated how recently he had celebrated his birthday. It was hard to feel too upset with that in mind; it had been a good day, after all. While he really could have stood to NOT get a pie in the face at the Union building, he understood it was tradition for the school; and besides, with Jamil as his selected interviewer, he’d had little to complain about there.
And, after all, that had only been the beginning of the…benefits the day had yielded.
BRRRLLLRRRB…!
A louder rumble drew Azul’s attention to his middle. A soft, sleepy smile now played across his face, his beauty mark quirking upwards as a puff of amusement left his perfect nose. The octo-boy in disguise was laying on his bed, topless, his bottom half clad in nothing but a loose-fitting pair of black and violet pajama bottoms. One might have been surprised to see him topless, presently uncovered by his blankets, given the cool temperature…but Azul found resting this way soothing.
Especially on a full stomach.
And Azul had a VERY full stomach that night. While one of his arms was laying limp upon the covered mattress, the other rose up, allowing one of his well-manicured hands to rest upon his belly. The mafioso-styled dorm leader’s abdomen was noticeably swollen, his gut round as if he had swallowed a decent-sized melon all in one gulp. It was the gurgling and churning of his stomach that had awakened Ashengrotto. He hummed softly, craning his neck to gaze upon his full stomach with a sort of contemplative expression. The young head of Octavinelle pressed upon his gut; it made a thick, mucky “slushing” sound. He could feel the soft, goopy mush that the meal he’d ingested had become…
“Mmmmm…I’m probably going to regret all these calories in the morning,” he mumbled, but it was hard for him to sound too miffed. A little shiver went through him as a squealing sort of squelching came from his gut. His eyes fluttered closed as he lay his head back again, then he gripped his fingers into his sagging stomach more firmly. “Oooooh…at the moment, I’m…not feeling especially bothered, however…”
Just then, a different sensation inside his stomach made Azul’s eyes open wide again. He craned his head upwards once more to look at his belly. It jolted slightly to one side, then the other; a muffled sound could be heard, almost muted by the busy churning of his stomach.
Azul blinked twice…then his smile shifted, becoming his trademark sly, supercilious smirk.
“Awww…is my little angelfish still solid in there?” he cooed, and cupped the underside of his belly possessively with one hand. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised. Not disappointed. But surprised.”
He let his head rest back on the pillow. Your squirms continued to nudge against the lining of his stomach; Azul sighed happily, stroking and caressing his belly as you wriggled about inside of him.
“You shouldn’t be feeling any pain, thanks to that spell I used,” he mumbled. “Which means you’re either moving because you want to…”
One finger began to trace circles around his navel.
“...Or because you know I love the feeling,” he sighed out blissfully. “Either way…I’m going to presume that means you’re enjoying yourself in there.”
WHURLMPH.
Azul’s smile vanished and he grimaced as a particularly harsh nudge to his stomach walls disrupted a pocket of gas. He lifted a fist to his, his cheeks ballooning as he repressed a deep, rumbling belch, blowing the excess gas free and fanning the air before his face subtly.
“BRRRLLLMMMRRRP…phoosh! Ugh…so uncivilized,” Ashengrotto mumbled, and gave a sort of petulant glance towards his stomach. “You’re more wicked than most people give you credit for: first making me that…absolutely IMMENSE birthday dinner, then deciding you’re going to not only risk making me fat, but also give me gas?”
He slapped his stomach; it jiggled.
“Naughty,” he scolded.
Another muffled noise - perhaps you firing back with some snarky comment - came from Azul’s stomach. He smirked at the garbled sound, a sinister gleam in his eye. Just because you wouldn’t feel pain didn’t mean you would stay solid.
After all, that had been part of the contract.
“Just remember, my angelfish,” he cooed, running his fingers across the middle of his belly. “Starting first thing in the morning, you’ll be spending the next 24 hours as a part of me. I hope you’re looking forward to it…”
He yawned and allowed his eyes to close once more.
“...I know I am…I just hope all that food doesn’t leave TOO big an impact on my body…”
With this final, tired mumbled, Azul rolled onto his side in his bed. His gut GLORSHED noisily as gravity shifted; your tiny, steadily-softening body slogged with the rest of the sludge - a mixture of ice cream, cake, and various deep fried foods - with the change of direction. A muffled moaning sound came from you as you sloshed around in the simmering stew.
Outside. Azul let out a soft, low burp in his sleep, already drifting back into dreamland. As he rested, one hand continued to rest and occasionally scratch at his stomach. His slumbering expression was one of deepest, most joyous satisfaction.
He’d had a birthday to remember…and the next day was going to be just as memorable. Although, perhaps, for different reasons…
“Under the Sea! Under the Sea! Darling, it’s better down where it’s wetter, take it from-!”
A growl accompanied Azul’s hand slapping over his cell phone and silencing the alarm he had set to wake him up.
“I do so LOATHE that song,” he grumbled…but he supposed he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. After all, he’s the one who chose the ringtone. His logic had been that picking something that would annoy him would urge him to awaken faster…logic that, to its credit, DID work…perhaps too well…but that was all another story.
Azul yawned and sat up in his bed; a light groan left him as he smoothed some of his pale gray hair out of his face. He scrubbed at his eyes and started to stand up from his bed…
…Then paused. His groggy, bleary optics widened, a jolt of alertness shooting through his body. He felt…heavier. As if some sort of weight was hanging from his body, around his waist and his hips.
If one has ever experienced gaining any great degree of weight, then one would know that the sensation is gradual. One typically doesn’t NOTICE they are getting heavier or larger, because the weight accumulates over an elongated period of time. But imagine if one suddenly gained a large amount of weight literally overnight. Then they would have known how Azul felt.
Azul cursed under his breath and groaned louder than before, hauling himself up and stumbling towards the built-in bathroom of his dorm suite. He splashed water across his face grouchily; he’d known he would regret the feast he’d had the night before - his little angelfish included in the mix - but he hadn’t expected to regret it THIS immediately. Sighing agitatedly, Azul dabbed at his face with a towel and briefly glanced into his bathroom mirror. He could only really see his upper half in the glass’ reflection, and that alone was already enough to concern him…but without his glasses, it was hard to see just HOW bad the damage really was.
The octo-boy in disguise stomped back into the main bedroom of his dorm quarters, and scooped up his spectacles from the nightstand. He thankfully had a second mirror in his room, directly beneath his clock. This one was a full-size looking-glass. Azul stepped in front of the mirror…blinked…then scowled.
“Damn it to Hades,” he muttered, and a slight blush seemed to paint his cheeks. “I knew I…I shouldn’t have had so much of the cake…”
Azul almost seemed to wince as his hands explored his bare belly. While he could sense that his stomach was now empty, his gut was actually not much smaller than it had been when he’d been awakened the night before. The difference was that instead of being swollen with digesting slurry from the inside, the softness, warmth, and roundness were all the result of a large amount of pudge that had gathered around his middle. His once lean but slightly curvy figure had become noticeably plumper, a doughy paunch now pooching over the low-set waistband of his pajama bottoms. It really wasn’t much, just a slight bit more belly…but the way Azul grimaced as he gripped the building love handles on the sides indicated it was more than enough to bother him.
It didn’t get any better when Azul turned himself about in his mirror; an anxious look came into his eyes, his blush intensifying as he felt his heart beat in a flustered, frustrated way. His aforementioned pajama bottoms hugged his hips VERY tightly; Azul placed his hands upon them and pulled them away to see just how wide they had gotten. The difference from before he’d clocked out into a food coma the evening before to now was uncomfortable to him.
Then there was his backside. Azul wasn’t sure he could blush any more fiercely, but it seemed that he was learning he had more blood to pump into his own face than he realized. His embarrassment was as plain as the cleft between his cheeks, as - even with the loose-fitting pajama pants - he could tell that a great deal of the weight had gone to his thighs and his rump. They were much, MUCH thicker than they had been the night before. Even through the black-and-purple fibers, Azul’s fingers could feel an ample “squishiness” to his rear end that hadn’t been so obvious before.
“Damn,” he said again, running his hands along the curve of his butt, flushed with embarrassment and a hint of nerves. “I hope I can fit into my uniform pants still…urgh, I can already guess the sorts of things Floyd and Jade will say…”
If it’s any consolation, I think you look better this way.
Azul nearly jumped as he heard a voice seemingly in his own head. He blinked, then redirected his attention to his stomach. He placed both hands upon the mildly portly abdomen he now sported, as if to keep it steady.
“Angelfish?” he whispered. Then he spoke a bit louder. “Prefect? Is that you?”
Your own voice responded to him.
Well, I’m not your conscience.
Azul smirked almost despite himself. One hand adjusted his glasses as the other tenderly stroked his belly with his fingertips.
“Good to know that your…transformation has not hindered your sense of humor,” he teased.
You shivered, despite the endless, bountiful warmth that surrounded you. Azul smirked a bit wider as he could actually feel the slightest, almost imagined tremor of his plumpened underbelly.
Good to know that gaining a bit of weight hasn’t ruined yours, your consciousness responded.
Azul frowned anew, his hand still petting his belly as he looked back into the reflection and sighed.
“Vargas is going to be an absolute pain today, I can already feel it,” he almost whined.
I’d apologize, but I’d have to feel sorry first.
Azul glared down at his gut and gave it a slap. A squeak left your mind - for you could not REALLY speak, only…think in conversation, if such a phrase could be imagined.
“You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” Azul pouted.
I have been told I’m VERY fattening, even when shrunken down, your mind responded; you weren’t sure how you could hyperventilate when you had no lungs, but that was the best sensation to describe your own flustered feelings. You…you m-might not want to…to “punish” me like that, I…w-wow, this feels good…
“I’m glad one of us is having a good time,” muttered Azul. Then he smirked anew. “I hope you realize your contract is…”
He bit his lip as he kneaded into his belly fat; he had to admit, that felt…pretty good…
“...Binding,” he almost growled, then his voice returned to its usual velvety, silky smoothness. “Until the exact same hour you lost consciousness inside my stomach last night, you belong to my body. I can make this experience beautiful for you…”
He gave his gut a slight jiggling shake; a slightly sadistic, self-satisfied expression crossed his smirking face.
“...Or I can make it torture,” he breathed out, dangerously.
I’m not sure they’re not the same thing, you loopily managed to think-say in reply.
Azul chuckled through his nose and shook his head, raising one eyebrow, the slight drop of cruelty in his face giving way to affectionate amusement. He’d known for a long time about your “kinks,” the fantasies inside your head. Sometime ago, he’d given you a chance to act them out by becoming part of his rump for a time. For his birthday, you had offered him a chance to feel that sensation again, for having your sentient ego as part of his body, after turning your own form into nutrients and lipid-layering, was as gorgeous to him as it was heavenly to you. It was a selfish sort of gift, but you hoped the excellent meal you’d made would make up for it.
Even now, Azul was questioning if the birthday bargain you’d made with him had been for his benefit or your own, primarily.
“You must be very proud of yourself right about now,” he said, and turned to face his mirror, allowing your mind’s eye to see through his own optics. You could not only feel the warm, soft hand caressing the tummy pudge your entire existence had been reduced to, but you could see the way his palm and fingers moved across the patch of padding you’d been turned into.
I…I am…ohhhh, that’s…that’s s-so good…please don’t stop…
Azul rolled his eyes.
“You seem to think I’m obligated to do things for your benefit,” he purred…then gave his belly a pat, his smile fading as he sighed softly and turned on his heel, marching towards his wardrobe. “Well, unfortunately for you, I’m not nearly as pleased with these gains as you are. And as soon as I get you OFF my body, I’m going to work very hard to work the pounds off, too.”
Spoilsport.
Azul glared half-heartedly and gave his belly a squeezing knead. He waited till he sensed your ego squealing before giving a vengeful sort of smile. A shiver went through him; he was blushing again, but this time for different reasons. His toes curled against the floor.
He had to give humanoid bodies that credit: curling one’s tentacles didn’t have quite the same feeling or effect.
Shaking his head to clear it, and letting out a shaky breath, Azul grabbed his school uniform from his wardrobe, and began to get dressed. Even if you’d been allowed to see the world from a “belly’s eye view,” you wouldn’t have been able to see much, as his shirt soon shrouded your “vision.” Being sentient fat was…difficult to describe. You could feel the belly around you; you could sense everything, but you could not move or speak of your own volition. You could think. You could do emotions. But actual motor functions and nearly all other senses of…well…sense were out the window. You were surrounded by warmth; like you were wrapped up in a dozen blankets. It wasn’t uncomfortable, however; it was as if you had been in an Arctic tundra and had just come into a scene from a Rockwell painting. (You wondered if anybody in this world knew what those were.) You could feel yourself sway; you could feel Azul’s hand touch you, feel the way his body shifted around you. You could sense his heartbeat, and dimly detect the smell of the stomach you’d spent so much time in.
You probably should have been deeply disturbed, freaked out, or some other negative status…but instead, you felt…happy. You could feel a sense of pride and even a sense of strange contentment. Your fantasies, in this world, could easily be realities…and you felt safe inside of Azul’s body. Your soul nestled into the bountiful beauty of his belly, ready to strap itself in for the long haul…
Azul was more or less unaware of all these musings on your part. After all, he had more important things to worry about than his own belly fat. Foremost of the bunch was getting dressed. He scowled and sneered, grunting as he fitted the buttons of his shirt and vest over his rounded midsection. The buttons of his blazer refused to reclasp, so - with a sigh of defeat - he simply let his jacket hang open, self-consciously squirming as he noted the way his belly pressed firmly against the insides of his buttoned-up top clothes.
Next came changing into his trousers. At first, things went smoothly, and Azul began to feel a bit more cheerful…but that changed when it felt like his pants hit the blubbery equivalent of a brick wall upon meeting his rear. He grunted a few times before finally managing to shimmy his pants upward, hiking them over the wobbling tush-globes and grumbling as he fiddled with the fastener and the zipper. Finally, once it was done, he lashed his belt around his pants…mostly to make sure they wouldn’t burst open again.
“Why do these things always go to my lower areas?” he groused, and sighed before fastidiously brushing himself off. He took a few deep breaths as he slipped his gloves onto his hands. He had to keep his cool. It was just one day, keeping all this weight…well, that was a lie. He’d have to deal with this for a while until he worked it all off. He glared again, eyes hard and sharp as shards of blue bottle glass.
“As soon as I let you out of me,” he addressed your soul, softly squeezed in the hammock of his belly, “We are having a talk about the effect YOUR prurient desires have on my body.”
I wouldn’t have it any other way, your soul replied, in a sleepy sort of way, indicating you were probably thinking of them in a way quite different from Azul’s.
Ashengrotto snorted and rolled his eyes, then - adjusting his tie - he began to walk out of the room. He flinched as he heard the fabric of his trousers creak around his buttocks. He silently made a note to try not to bend over at any point if he could manage it: he was quite sure a little too much pressure in the wrong direction would case his pants to pop apart at the seams.
“It’s going to be quite a long day,” he mumbled.
Even as he spoke though, he couldn’t keep his hands off his own belly. Once he noticed, he flushed and hurriedly stuffed them into his pockets, eyes resolutely looking at anything but his gut as he stalked through the halls of Octavinelle, trying to stay focused on his schedule.
He refused to admit how GOOD it felt to just…hold his own belly…especially knowing his precious Prefect was packed inside.
The scratching of the pen on parchment was rough and coarse. It matched Azul’s cross mood as he sat ill-temperedly in Mozus Trein’s classroom, hastily taking notes from the Professor’s lecture. The old man was giving a long-winded sermon on the history of the dark and fabled art of necromancy…a subject that Azul would have found more fascinating if he weren’t in a state of molar-grating annoyance.
All morning so far, before and after classes, he’d been dealing with people pointing out his abruptly added pounds. Floyd had laughed for what seemed like hours when Azul walked into the Mostro Lounge to give his orders for the day (the twins had the day off from classes). His eyes had sparkled with joy as he had invaded Azul’s space to poke and prod at his sides and his belly, making playful little “boop-boop” noises as he did so.
“Awwww, chubby baby Azuuuuul! He’s baaaack!” sang out Floyd with an absolutely giddy grin. “Can I squeeze ya? Huh? Can I? Your tummy looks soooo squishable, like a big stress ball!”
Azul had spluttered and swatted him away with many a flustered sound. Jade, naturally, had been no help at all. He’d chuckled through his nose, one finger to his chin, eyes gleaming with devilish amusement. His smile showed the slightest hint of his pointed teeth.
“I must say, you’re looking…appetizingly healthy today,” he had teased, gently. “I suppose the Prefect made for an excellent dessert to their clearly nourishing dinner, hmmm?”
Of course Azul had told the eel-men about the deal he’d made with you: after all, you were his significant other, and so your business was his, and his business was usually theirs. You wondered if Azul could feel the way you blushed at the note of how much you and the food you’d made for him had filled out his adipose tissue…just as you wondered if the rush of intensifying warmth you felt briefly was because he was blushing at Jade’s words.
The Leech Twins had been just the beginning. You’d felt Azul’s belly bounce and wobble around you as he walked through the halls of Night Raven College. You could hear the voices of students around you, and nearly all of them had something to say about Azul’s overnight gains…
“Shishishishi! Looks like I’ve got some competition as Chief Greedy Gut on campus, huh, Azul?” teased Ruggie Bucchi, giving a poke right to Azul’s navel, which wobbled above you.
“Hey, did you swallow a bowling ball for your birthday?” laughed Ace Trappola.
“Wow, Azul! You must have had a REALLY nice dinner last night!” cheered Kalim Al-Asim. “Hey, how come I wasn’t invited to the party?”
Vil Schoenheit had simply turned up his nose with a scoff, while Rook blushed bright red and muttered some rather randy words in French. Azul had yet to see either of the Shroud brothers, but he imagined - with the way those two spent their days - by now they were probably snickering to each other about the situation sight unseen.
One response had been legitimately mortifying, and that was the redoubtable Malleus Draconia himself. On his way to Trein’s classroom, Azul had run into the dark prince of the fae whilst rounding a bend in the corridor. Malleus had given him a placid, practiced smile in return; it reminded Azul far too much of Jade’s signature, sneaky expressions, which always promised something dangerous beneath an appealing and polite facade.
It was a look Azul was on the route to mastering, himself. He knew it well.
“Well,” Malleus said. “This is a pleasant surprise. I see you had a decent meal last night, Ashengrotto.”
Azul had concurred this was true. Malleus had nodded in response, then raised an eyebrow, casting an eye down towards the center of Azul’s bloated middle.
“And how is…your little mate?” he asked, in a careful sort of way, as if trying to be polite.
It was more than an open secret, your whereabouts. Azul couldn’t help himself; he smirked a greedy sort of smirk, patting his belly - and making you wobble about on his warm, silky underbelly area, ripples going through your form. You could sense the possessiveness of his touch, the pride in his motions: it seemed, while he didn’t like gaining weight…he DID like gaining YOU.
If you’d had the capacity to blush while being blubber, you would have been the color of a beet.
“I think they’re feeling closer to me than ever before,” Azul had practically purred. There was a hint of a gloat in his voice.
“That is good,” replied Malleus, narrowing his toxic green eyes. “Provided that is what they want.”
“Well, it doesn’t particularly matter what my food wants, does it?” Azul responded. You had whimpered in the back of his mind at that; you knew he was saying this for your benefit, not Draconia’s. “But rest assured, I’m taking VERY good care of them.”
Evidently, this tease had been the exact wrong thing to say around Malleus Draconia. You had felt the body all around you stiffen, as Malleus had leaned in close to glare into Azul’s eyes, his voice dropping to a deadly sort of whisper.
“I understand your satisfaction, but I would advise you to mind your own avaricious nature, Ashengrotto. As pleasurable as it may be to hoard your little mate away all to yourself, one can be perhaps TOO greedy and gluttonous for their own good. Don’t forget: they may be your mate…”
A slight hint of a snarl came into the dragon’s voice.
“...But they are also my friend.”
Azul’s possessive satisfaction had faded quickly then in a slew of hastily uttered apologies. Even now, seated in Trein’s class, he shuddered at the memory.
“First you bloat me like a balloon,” he muttered to himself, glaring down at his belly between notes, “Then you nearly get me barbecued. Is it possible to get a divorce when marriage isn’t even instituted yet?”
Well, technically, we’re already bound, was your quipping reply.
Azul just glared more harshly, placing a hand to his temple as he tried to concentrate. It was hard to do so. His fingers fidgeted, wanting to play with his own belly; he could feel your energy, your warmth, stored inside of his body…it was like constant stream of oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin were all being pumped through his body from the general area of his underbelly. He bit his lip, as he could sense your pleasure just as easily as you could sense his. You were enjoying your placement far too much…and probably too much pride at your accomplishments.
The “cephalo-punk” glanced to the sides, where he noticed some students were STILL staring at his newfound rotundity. A flustered sort of glare came to his face and he looked to see if Trein was watching. He wasn’t: the wizened professor was busy trying to help a couple of Heartslabyul students at the other end of the lecture hall.
A cunning smirk came to Azul’s lips. He put down his pen and looked down at his gut from behind his hand. To an outside observer, his posture would have made it seem he were simply thinking very hard…and in a way, he was.
I take it being belly fat is approvable to you? He sent the thought your way.
You wondered if sounds like whimpers and moans were real sounds to Azul in your current state, or if he could just sense the emotions the way one would interpret those noises. Whatever the case, he smirked wider was the obvious pleasure only increased.
Well, since you’ve been SUCH a good little tummy pet, I’m going to give you an even better reward, he cooed mentally, in a tone that seemed sarcastic and sincere, somehow, at the same time. Hold onto your mind…
Before you could ponder what that meant, Azul slipped the hand that had been holding his pen under his desk and placed it on his belly. Then, he ran his fingers across his sides, down along his hips…and shifted his posture to give his butt a subtle pat on the cheek. Beneath his pants, the glute wobbled slightly. Then he lifted his hand, a newfound smugness on his face as he picked up his pen and returned to his note taking at the same time Trein had returned to the blackboard to continue his lecture. No one, as far as he could tell, had noticed.
What no one knew or would have likely been able to guess was that the motions had not been idle: what took him less than ten seconds felt like ten minutes, or even ten hours, to you. A sudden pulling sensation seemed to grab hold of your trapped mind; you had the feeling of being dragged through something - something thick, warm, and strangely-textured. All thought and all emotion became fuzzy and faint; hazy, like being pulled along through a dream. Then, after a sort of spinning, swimming sensation - like being whirled around in a typhoon - you finally found your soul coming to a rest…
…And that was when you felt the weight.
So. Much. WEIGHT. Pressing down all around you with oppressive, omnipotent ponderousness. You couldn’t move as it was, yet somehow you felt as if you wanted to squirm…and, of course, even if you’d had a body, you wouldn’t have been able to. You could feel your “body” being pressed, pushed down, all that weight firmly smushing the thick chub into a hard surface.
You could not speak, yet words failed you; only frantic, confused thoughts, a mixture of arousal and intense bewilderment flooding your smothered spirit. Your essence flared with blaring signals of all sorts, from pleasure at the domination you were experiencing - so tightly kept, so helpless to resist or escape - and the fear and confusion that came with all that was going on.
As if to try and help settle your broken mind. Azul wiggled in his seat. It was a simple action no one would have taken much notice of, especially since his eyes remained fixed on either Professor Trein or his own notes…but to you, it felt like you were being mashed and dragged and pressed out. The sensation was like a vigorous massage, encapsulating all of your body; jolts of pain and pleasure swallowing up your soul.
A-Azul…!
“Shhhhh,” he uttered aloud, then thought the rest of his comforting statement: It’s alright, angelfish. I’m here. I’m everywhere. I’m all around you. I’m just putting you…in your favorite place.
If you could keen like a puppy, you would have done so then. You knew what that meant. Of all the parts of Azul’s body you loved most, nothing compared to his butt: considering so much of what he ate, in any amount, tended to go to his thick hips, thicker thighs, and matching thick glutes, you knew that all the pounds he’d put on had to make his ass truly MASSIVE now…and you were just BURIED in it. There was no escape from the unrelenting avalanche of rump meat that surrounded you.
Is…this…reward…or…punishment? your crackling mind managed to stutter out.
Azul smirked and responded by lifting his rump up slightly and dropping it again. Once more, it was a simple, swift movement - to any onlooker, he was just adjusting his seating posture for comfort’s sake - but to you, it felt like your entire universe was lifted up and SLAMMED down. You bobbled. Your whole being shook with his weight. The warm was more intense here than ever, and the musk was potent in your nonexistent nostrils. You were fused to his fat ass, and you could sense from the way he hummed around and above you that he loved that feeling.
Both, was Azul’s single response in thought. Then, just to further drive home how totally he owned your being, Ashengrotto gave his glutes a hard flex, and the whole universe seemed to cave in around you, the pressure and heat intensifying; you swore it was like being pressed on all sides by his stomach again…except instead of slime and stench, all you could experience was his WEIGHT!
Finally, Azul relaxed - once again, second seemed like hours to you - and you were left breathless (not that you needed breath) beneath his booty…no, WITHIN his booty. You once more wished you could truly whimper; it was the only sound to express your emotional status. You’d been sat on by Azul a few times - once he’d learned THAT dirty secret about you, he was VERY keen to play with it in private - but nothing compared to the sensations of being part of his fat butt. And now that it was fatter than ever…
All thought trailed off as Azul glanced back and downwards over his shoulder with a sort of slimy smirk, then innocently went back to taking notes.
He had to admit, right now, he was feeling much better about the added weight.
It was so much easier to play with you now.
“Don’t get too comfortable, my little pet,” he whispered to himself. “This day is still just getting started…”
For the rest of the day, Azul decided to give you a full tour of what it was like to be a part of his body. Not just his butt, nor his belly, but his BODY. Once he had realized how good it felt to feel your confusion and flustered bafflement each time he moved you to a new portion of his form, he decided there was nothing to do but keep transferring your soul from one part of his anatomy to another.
Once class with Trein had finished, Azul had kept you on his arse for a little while. You’d felt the way his booty bounced around behind him, and sensed how the cheeks bumped against each other, as if punishing themselves for being too big. Azul did not strut with pride to show off these gains - he was more concerned with the idea of his trousers splitting - but nevertheless, you could feel the way his thighs pumped beneath you, and how his hips helped you sway.
Those parts of his body were the next ones you visited. His hips came first, as Azul went to Alchemy class, where his labcoat helped to hide just how much more girth he had put on. With the long, pristine white coat covering him down to his knees, he let your soul rise. You felt as if your entire being was split in half, changing from one solid mass spread across some portion of his blubbery bum, and now fractioned between the two sides of his pelvis. Every time he brushed something off on his labcoat, his hands slapped through the fabric against you. You could feel the way those hips bucked and rocked as he waltzed about the laboratory, fetching vials and beakers and other instruments, as well as numerous potions and chemical compounds, all for the sake of his assignments that day.
For him, they were simple, everyday movements. For you, it was like being on a swing ride at an amusement park.
He seemed to have more confidence in his stride as he left Alchemy - you could feel the way each side of you was thrust up and then dropped down, repeatedly, as he strolled about the campus - but he lost that confidence when he had to attend Vargas’ class. As expected, Vargas was quick to criticize Azul’s gains, and exercise period was particularly harsh as a result.
It appeared Azul was eager to share his misery (or, for you, perhaps it was better written as “misery”), because that was when he transferred you to his thighs. You could actually feel the way they squeezed, pressing into his broomstick, and the way they worked as he engaged in other exercises at the coach’s orders. Every jogging step, every lunge, made your world twist and stretch and press down around you. If you’d still had a skull, you would have sworn it was being repeatedly crunched in between those mighty thighs and heavy hams.
Finally, exercise period stopped. But the day still went on. Azul would quietly slip you between those three lower sections, on a neverending loop, over and over again: you swayed and quaked along on his hips as he walked, found yourself squeezed in the inner portion of his legs as he ate, and felt the way his hips rocked whenever he sat down for class or business.
For the most part, Azul ignored your flustered responses, aside from simply soaking in the sensations they caused for him. But once in a while, some words would float down towards your soul as it suffered pleasures and enjoyed agonies, all untold. Sometimes the words were teasing and affectionate…
Mmmm…you seem to like it when I press my thighs together…perhaps when you get your body back, we’ll put that to good use?
Sometimes they were downright mocking…
I bet you wish you were back on my belly by now, don’t you, silly little angelfish?
And on more than one occasion, they were petulant and scolding.
I hope you’re happy with yourself: I swear, as soon as I find grounds to blackmail Cater, I will END HIM for taking that wretched photo…!
These last ones alway got a mental giggle out of you. The rest of the time, you didn’t think so much as simply…felt. Simply soaked in every sensation these different activities pushed into your swallowed, submissive soul.
Time was a funny thing, when one was octo-flab. Everything seemed slower than it should have been, yet everything moved much too fast at the same time. It was deeply disorienting. You could not see anything, nor smell much beyond Azul’s own natural odor, which seemed to be inescapably around you at all times; not vile, but certainly intoxicating. All you could really do was hear without lugholes, and feel without digits. Nevertheless, you knew when the day finally ground its way to a halt.
You could tell not only from the way the body all around you seemed to slump slightly with weariness, but from the sound you somehow detected of what could only be his dorm room door opening and closing…followed by the scraping of the lock as it was fastened tight.
“By the Sea Witch, what a day,” sighed Azul, with great exhaustion.
Ashengrotto removed his glasses, one long-fingered hand ruffling his own hair as he leaned back against the door. Your soul - presently occupying his hips - squeaked as you felt the vibrations of the impact swerve through your fat-based framework.
Is…is it over? You managed to finally eep out. They were some of the very few cognizant words you’d managed to utter that whole day after your first transference to octo-boy buttocks had happened.
Azul gave a tired sort of smile up towards the ceiling. He chuckled.
“For me, basically, yes,” he murmured, then slid his eyes downwards as he stroked his hips softly through his tight pants. “Have you enjoyed the ride so far, my sweet?”
Probably more than you have, you responded honestly.
“Oh, I’m not sure about that,” Azul chuckled, and stepped away from the door, slipping off his blazer and hanging it up in a sweeping, swooping set of motions. “After all, having my favorite human occupying my newfound folds was…exhilarating, in some places.”
Yeah, but…it was pretty embarrassing for you in other places.
Azul frowned as he undid his tie and then began to unbutton his vest and shirt.
“Yes,” he conceded. “But…I’m surprised you’re feeling bothered by that now.”
I’m not, you insisted, hurriedly.
Azul hummed, unconvinced, then shrugged and removed the rest of his garments. Soon, he was in naught but his underwear. He sighed, noticing the stretch marks that had formed along them.
“For the record, you’re worth every pound. Having said that…you really did a number on my body,” he mumbled, pressing his hands into his hips firmly, as if nudging them into your soul buried inside. You would have quivered if you could.
I…I definitely f-feel like…I must have, you replied.
Azul sniffed softly, somewhat snootily and patted his hips, then groped his rump with a grimace.
“It will take weeks to work all this off,” he groused…then paused before adding more quietly. “That is…If I work it all off…”
There was a pause.
Wh-what? You piped up, inquisitively.
Azul sighed. He squirmed where he stood as he fetched his pajama bottoms.
“I’m…going to admit, I…might have actually…LIKED having a little extra weight on me, in some cases,” he grumbled.
There was a pause. Then your soul began to giggle. The giggle became a mental laugh. Azul flushed more than ever and growled, removing his glasses in a flash and slapping them onto his nightstand.
“You know, I can move your soul to much, MUCH worse places than my butt, if you don’t behave,” he growled. “Or I could just keep you in there forever.”
And risk being “roasted”? You reminded him, tauntingly.
Azul let out a harumph.
“I can see you’re going to be difficult,” he muttered, then smirked as he placed his hand to his hip. “Maybe next time I’ll find a way to show you more respect when you’re inside my body…”
So saying, Azul moved his hand along his sides to the front of his belly. A sound not unlike a cat’s purr left him as he circled the tips of three fingers around his now once-more-bare midsection, your soul encircling his belly button.
“...But for now, I think we BOTH need a rest in a warm, soft place. Besides, you only have a couple hours left till you reform, per our agreement.”
The comforting, familiar sensations of being belly fat returned. Your soul gave an involunatary shudder, your lifeforce squirming beneath Azul Ashengrotto’s skin. The mafia-styled mage, moaned, his blue eyes fluttering as those warm, pleasant sensations flowed into his arteries before cycling back into his veins once more.
“I think we can both agree on one thing,” he chuckled breathlessly, and you could feel the way his belly shifted with his mirth. “My rear end may be your favorite part of me in some respects…but clearly, my belly isn’t too bad, is it?”
I’m not complaining, was the only answer you could give.
“Neither am I,” Azul said, and there was a warmth to his voice. “I…I haven’t properly said it yet, for all this, but…thank you, Prefect. This was one of the strangest but…honestly, one of the most REWARDING sort of gifts I ever could have received for my birthday.”
He paused, chewing on his lip…then sat down upon his bed, rubbing his hand up and down along the curve of his gut.
“Angelfish?”
Yes, Azul?
“If I…if I DID decide to keep you there…would you hate me for it?” he asked, quietly.
Your soul stilled. You could hear a sense of conflict in his voice. Suddenly, you realized…the weight wasn’t the only thing he was considering holding onto.
“You’d be safe with me,” he said, in a soft, soothing, seductive way, which matched the hands you could feel roaming across his belly, kneading at the folds and rolls that had developed there, tracing into and out of and around his navel. “I would never truly harm you, angelfish. Never. And…and you like being part of me, don’t you? Warm and soft…comfy and cozy…I think I make a very nice home for you.”
His words were light and gentle; lightly teasing, but not insincere. He was not pleading, nor taunting you…indeed, you felt perhaps he wasn’t really talking to the sentient chub you had become, to begin with.
“It would lead to repercussions, certainly…but how could two people possibly be closer?”
You make a good point, you admitted, without hesitation - a quickness of response that you could sense surprised Azul. But it wouldn’t be the same, would it?
Azul hesitated before quietly whispering just two words: “That’s true.”
Your soul smiled. You wished you still had hands; you weren’t sure if you could keep any thoughts to yourself, but if Azul read your thoughts about giving him belly rubs once you got your body back, he stayed silent about them.
Maybe someday, you can take me. Permanently, you said, and the words were alarming in how honest they were. But…I think I’d rather just be me. Me and you. For a while.
Azul smiled and nodded. He patted his belly. It jiggled.
“Very well,” he said, then a greedy glint came to his ocean-colored eyes. “But I don’t know how long ‘a while’ might be, angelfish. I’m a notorious miser, even by my own admission.”
Well, you’re also supposed to be a benevolent spirit. It wouldn’t be “benevolent” to take me away from everyone else I care about and keep me all to yourself, would it?
“No, but Chernabog knows I still would love to.”
For some reason, you giggled. If you’d had eyes, you would have rolled them.
At least you’re honest.
“Always, my angelfish,” purred Azul, poking his belly with one finger. “Always.”
He yawned then, and lay back upon his bed. His pose was not unlike the one he’d had when he had woken up to the grumbling of his own guts the night before; one arm draped across his stomach, the other limply resting upon the bed.
“In all fairness,” he murmured, tiredly, “I think I’d rather keep you around a while longer anyway. After all…if I made you into permanent, sentient fat upon my body, who else would feed me those lovely cakes, hmmm?”
Ohhhh, so you’re giving up the advantage of keeping me as fat, for the advantage of being fed. I see how it is. I’m only useful as a cook. Got it.
Azul chortled. His gut bounced and bobbled around you.
“You know you mean more to me than that, Prefect,” he promised…then he frowned. “Having said that, PLEASE don’t overfeed me like yesterday again. As enjoyable as this amount of weight is…I’d rather not gain TOO much more.”
The almost maniacal cackle that echoed in Azul’s mind showed your thoughts there.
Wasn’t part of the contract. No promises! your sentience sang.
Azul sighed and closed his eyes…but he couldn’t help the amused and loving smile on his chiseled face.
“No wonder you were brought here to Night Raven, my pet,” he said softly, and drew a heart shape around his navel with one finger in a drowsy, dreamy, lax way. “You’re as incorrigibly greedy as I am.”
Guilty as the day is long, your soul agreed.
Azul hummed softly in a crooning sort of way, cupping his hand protectively over the area of his belly you now occupied. Soon, you felt the belly you were part of beginning to rise and fall as his breath evened out, and Ashengrotto drifted off into a dreamless, satiated sleep.
You could do nothing now but wait…wait until the spell wore off, and your body reformed, right there next to him on the bed.
You didn’t mind the wait. Your soul slept alongside his own, basking in the warm, blanketing softness of your boyfriend’s new belly.
Azul Ashengrotto had once been a chubby little octopus.
With your help, he’d find out that really wasn’t such a bad thing to be…and if that meant you ended up getting a front row seat to it all like this?
Well. You simply called that incentive.
