Chapter 1 - the first stuffing - a belly expands

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a princess named Jasmine. Jasmine possessed beauty fair and divine; the desire of most men, and the envy of most women. Sadly, she hardly had a personality to match her exquisite beauty - in short, Jasmine was very much a spoiled, egotistical brat, even at age 25, as one could tell even from just a glance at her face; the haughty glare from her sapphire eyes, the smug look of superiority was all across her soft, lovely face and rosy cheeks. She was especially fond of her hair, the long strands of shimmering gold that fell to her slender waist.

Alas, Jasmine had yet to be coronated, as her parents the king and queen lived still, and were much loved by the people of their kingdom of Ambala for their kind and caring reign; and, quite truthfully, they all feared the day of Jasmine's coronation, her parents included. But then, Jasmine didn't even seem to care about moving from princess to queen. Rather, she was only interested in one thing - herself. She would spend half the morning looking in the mirror, and was constantly changing clothes to find which of her dresses she deigned to wear that day. On this day in particular, Jasmine had settled on a pure, silky white dress, low cut to show her cleavage. Yes, Jasmine knew it wasn't "ladylike" to show such skin, but did she care? Certainly not. As arrogant as she was, Jasmine loved nothing more than flaunting her beauty in any way possible - her midriff and navel in particular.

Jasmine's parents, King Desmond and Queen Eris, were in some boring meeting with a bunch of other stuffy nobles, talking about some issue that Jasmine could not care less about. But, this was the perfect chance for Jasmine to slip away and indulge in her secret pleasure - her unabashed love of food. Weighing a mere 105 pounds, Jasmine was very much proud of her slim figure, and abhorred the thought of gaining weight. But, with her love of food and eating nagging at the back of her mind, Jasmine sought out the help of an old witch far on the outskirts of her kingdom of Ambala. The witch had agreed to cast a spell on Jasmine which would keep her from gaining weight no matter how much food she ate - or even from feeling full. Pleased with her results, Jasmine had proceeded to stuff her face with everything in sight. Her belly never once bulged or ached, even after the consumption of twelve cakes in one day.

It had been an entire year since the spell had been cast, and when Jasmine entered the kitchen for the third time that day, she was surprised to see the old crone sitting, waiting patiently for the princess's arrival.

"What?! What do you think you're doing here?!" Jasmine demanded. The witch remained calm, and stood up out of her chair, walking up to the beautiful, arrogant princess.

"It has been an entire year since last we met, my dear," the witch, named Tanith, said in her raspy old voice.

"You've no right to be here, witch! I demand that you leave at once!"

"Oh, but you see, my dear...I cannot. As I said, it has been a year since we met...at the time I cast my spell on you, I asked for payment - one that you did not give to me. I gave you one year to return...but return, you did not."

"If you will not leave, I will be forced to call for the royal guards!"

"I'm warning you, my dear; if you do not give me what I want...you will regret it," Tanith said through her teeth.

"GUARDS!" Jasmine screamed. Immediately, twenty or so knights had arrived at the kitchen. "Take this...thing, and throw her out of the castle immediately!" A round of yes milady's went around, and the guards grabbed the witch by her scrawny arms, and carried her out of the kitchen.

"Don't forget, my dear...I did warn you, after all!" was the last thing Jasmine heard the old witch shout out.

"Ah...finally, I can indulge myself once more..." With nobody around, Jasmine closed and locked the kitchen door, and took several pies out of a refrigerator (yes, a refrigerator. In a medieval setting. Don't ask why. It's just there.) Without even bothering to cut the first pie, Jasmine shoved her face deep into its sweet, berry goodness, slathering the fruit and juice all across her once fair-skinned face. With each breath she took, she shoved as much of the savory dessert down her throat, and into her belly. Soon enough, the first pie had vanished from its tin, with roughly ￿ of it remaining on Jasmine's face, and the other third in her belly, which for the first time in her life, showed the slightest hint of a bulge. The second pie didn't last very long, either, although Jasmine was less messy about eating it, taking the time to savor its sweet deliciousness and the cold feel of the berries sliding down her throat and into her slowly expanding belly. Had she been paying attention, she would have noticed that her stomach began to ache with the pie she had gorged herself on. But, instead, she ate the remaining three pies, only to realize that the waist of her dress had "all of a sudden" become tight. Subconsciously, she loosened the ribbon around her middle, and as she did, her round tummy tore through her shirt.

"M-My goodness! What is the meaning of this?!" Jasmine exclaimed, before finally succumbing to the pain of her giant, achy, swollen tummy. She laid down on her back, moaning, and was gasping for breath; it was as if a giant, round boulder had been placed on top of her tummy. She looked up, and couldn't even see her feet beyond the swollen dome that was her belly. "T-That witch...she'll pay for this! W-When I get up..." Tried as she could, she simply could not sit up, as her big, bouncy belly prevented such a feet; falling down to her back, she watched her tummy jiggle, back and forth, up and down. The movement worsened the pain, so she placed her hands on her belly to still it, noticing that it was tight as a drum, and hard as a rock from the seven pies she had stuffed herself with. After one year of binging, Jasmine finally felt full. And to her astonishment, she enjoyed it.