chapter 21 - part twenty

Mathilde traced a finger down the soft slope of Gregory’s paunch and smiled at him in a way that was almost sorry, almost tender. “Oh, my dear, but you do want this. Why do you think you’re here? Why do you think we chose you? Don’t you think we know all about every one of your sordid little fantasies? Don’t you think I know exactly what makes your cock hard?”

At that Liara’s head snapped up in surprise and she turned her gaze to Sir Gregory. It made no matter: no one was looking at her at that moment anyway. Morgana had long asserted that she would never have been able to blow her up to such blimp-like proportions if her heart did not truly yearn for it. Somehow there was always a sneaking doubt in her mind that the Queen got a perverse pleasure out of making her a willing participant in the ruin of her own body. But when she saw the peculiar expression of horror, shame and confusion on Gregory’s face, she knew that it must have been true all along.

“But... I... just because I have these thoughts, it doesn’t mean anything,” suddenly he turned on Liara, his tone almost accusing. “I never wanted to be like this. I would never let myself blimp up like that, I would never be so out of control.”

“You really don’t have a choice anymore,” Mathilde said. “Now, get on your knees and show me how hungry you really are, pig.”

He sank to his knees in defeat, his expression almost numb with disbelief as he assumed the demeaning position on all fours.

Liara too lowered her hefty bulk down to all fours. She was glad to take the pressure of her weight off her legs but also she relieved to no longer have to think of anything other than stuffing her gluttonous belly full of as much fattening food as possible. Seeing Sir Gregory has brought up so many painful memories and difficult questions, she just wanted feel the pleasure of eating and the reassuring pressure in her packed belly.

“Now, fatties, the time has come for you to gorge yourself,” Mathilde announced. “You have fifteen minutes to pack your greedy tummies full of as much food as possible.”

Two stable boys appeared brandishing leather straps and whipped Liara and Gregory’s backsides to get them moving towards the gingerbread house drawing many noises of approval from the audience as they watched the plump knight and the obese Princess yelp as they crawled towards the house.

In truth Liara knew that Gregory had no hope of besting her so she was prepared to give him a sporting chance. She watched him tentatively take a bite from his corner of the gingerbread house before she reached out a plump finger and took a swipe of the vanilla buttercream snow on the roof. She moaned at the first intoxicating taste and then reached out and grabbed a messy handful of the sticky gingerbread cake, drenched in caramel that made up the walls of the house and stuffed it in her mouth, he chubby cheeks bulging as she chewed. Next she ripped at the richly spiced ginger biscuits that made the roof tiles.

With every bite all questions seemed to melt away like cotton candy on her tongue. “What could be better than this?” was all she could think as she took bite after bite.

She knew she must be quite the sight and blushed a little at the thought of the eager, leering eyes of the nobles upon her flesh. The skirt, so big that she could barely conceive that that was her true size, had ridden up to reveal the enormous panties stretched to bursting across her bulging ass cheeks. The creamy cottage cheese flesh of her thick, cellulite dimples thighs wobbled and shook obscenely with every movement and her huge, hanging gut swayed beneath her as it billowed out of the straining corset more and more with every bite.

It was a luscious sight indeed to behold the Princess, especially when she decided that if the nobles had come to see a pig then she would be the messiest, fattest, greediest piggy they had ever seen. She had stopped using her hands by now, eagerly eating up tongue kissingly sweet, smooth creamy frostings, crunchy cookies and pillowy soft cakes. Her tastebuds constantly popped and fizzed with new flavours and sensations. The only thing more delicious was the thought that every bite she was taking was turning to pure lard on her body.

When Mathilde announced that the time was up Liara uttered a pained grunt and hoisted herself up onto her knees. Her whole body felt impossibly heavy as she cradled her full belly hurting out in front of her in her pudgy, sticky hands. She had never made that much of a pig of herself before, she felt completely stuffed. Too painfully full and exhausted to care about anything anymore.

Sir Gregory was on his hands and knees, moaning pitifully as he rubbed the tight ball of his gut with one hand. He was too broken to even try to resist when Mathilde stroked his blonde hair, now damp with sweat.

“A valiant effort, Sir,” Mathilde said. “But don’t fear, you will find that your appetite will soon grow to match your belly.”

That was too much for Sir Gregory and he jerked away from her and tried to scramble to his feet but Mathilde was faster.

“Seize him,” Mathilde instructed two stable boys.

The stable boys grabbed Gregory and held him tight as he struggled futilely against their strength. His face was red with rage and there was something feral in his eyes that Liara had never seen before. She barely recognised the affable boy she had grown up with, always trying to impress her and make her laugh with another stupid joke.

“How could you do this to me?” He spat at her. “You’re already a whale. What difference would it have made to you? I don’t want to be a freak. I’m not like you.”

Liara stared at him, stunned by his words until one of the stable boys jerked him back and the other struck a blow to his face to silence him. Sir Gregory sagged back into their arms, an inky bruise already forming beneath his eye.

Mathilde stepped forward and produced a dagger with a rubied hilt from her boot. Gregory’s whole body tensed but he did not utter a sound as Mathilde nearly cut the straps of his leiderhossen so that his chest was bared. She thoughtfully ran the point of the dagger down the length of his bulging belly, relishing his squirms and shudders as he flinched away from the kiss of the cold metal.

Her painted lips curled into a cruel smile as she traced the blade lower still. “You needn’t fear. My methods don’t involve anything so crude as steel, Sir. But you may find these a little... constricting soon.”

Gregory breathed a sigh of relief as she sheathed the blade and turned to the stable boys. “Take him away and prepare him for punishment.”

Liara watched as they dragged Gregory away and then Mathilde turned her attention on her. She looked down at Liara with barely concealed contempt and signalled to another stable boy at the side of the stage. “Take the Princess too and make her presentable.”

Liara was led by the stable boy to a small chamber that adjoined the throne room. It was a sparse room of cold marble and little to occupy it but a claw foot bath. It was not lost on her that she was not returned to her stable and she knew that Mathilde was not done with her yet.

The stable boy stared at her body insolently as he undressed her and scrubbed at her roughly to remove the sticky mess of syrup and cake crumbs from her face and hair. She missed the way Tristan averted his gaze and treated every inch of her expanding flesh like a precious thing to be anointed for the Queen.

She tried to take relief in the warm water washing her clean and steeping some of the exhaustion from her bones but she could feel the boy’s grubby hands and eyes all over her. The boy’s unnecessary lingering as he soaped up her all her rolls and bulges soured any pleasure that could be derived from the experience.

Morgana had warned her long ago that she could either experience the most exquisite pleasure or the most agonising pain at her hands but she had been a fool and had refused to obey. Now instead of supping on nectar, she drank bitterest gall. Instead of feasting on sweetmeats, her mouth was full of ashes.

She could not dwell on such thoughts for long as the door to the chamber swung open and the Queen entered. The train of her dark gown slithered across the marble floor like quicksilver as she approached Liara.

Barely glancing at the stable boy, Morgana drew Liara into a kiss, cupping the girl’s face in her hands as she withdrew, she stroked her chubby cheek.

“You exquisite little whore,” she exclaimed. Her breath was quick and giddy, her purple eyes sparkled with excitement. “You were magnificent. They loved you. I love you.”

Liara felt her heart swell as if it could burst with her affection for her Queen.

“I don’t care about them,” she said shyly. “I did it for you. So I could be with you.”

Morgana kissed her again and gave her a look of such tenderness as she clasped her hands in her own. “And we will be together, my sweet girl. You have already endured so much for me but just a little more and it will just be you and I.”

The stable boy fumbled with a bottle of lotion and Morgana turned towards him as if seeing him for the first time. In a instant her manner changed, something seemed to snap shut inside her tight as a lock. The change was subtle: a firmness in the set of her jaw, a flatness to her but Liara could feel her withdrawing from her. She felt an ache of longing as Morgana turned to leave. Every part of her felt like it was straining needily towards the Queen, desperate to feel that intimacy again the way a plant stretches towards the sun.

“Bring the girl to the throne room when you are done with her,” Morgana told the boy. “And make haste, my Lords and Ladies are eagerly waiting.”

“Is it not a foul thing though? What we have done to Gregory?” blurted out before she could go.

Morgana paused with her hand on the door knob. “Oh, my sweet girl, you have no idea.”