chapter 3

A clock chimed upstairs breaking the spellbound Ash from her game of licking Sarah clean.

"Oh no! You took too long," Ashe whined. She sat bolt upright and brushed herself off then pushed off Sarah's belly to steady herself as she stood up. "I'll get scolded if chores fall behind," she explained as she pulled her top back on.

She gathered up the remaining crumbs on the plate and crammed them in her own mouth then put the plate, tongs and other accessories back on the platter across the bars. She took the lid off a second platter on a crate just outside the bars next to Sarah's bed, revealing a heap of assorted pastries and donuts easily twice the size her breakfast had been. Sarah could only groan already feeling the compulsion to reach for one.

"These should hold you till dinner. Don't have to eat 'em all, but she'll be angry if you don't eat any..." she giggled watching Sarah struggle to sit up and her nervous glance at this new threat to her waistline. "Doesn't look like I have to worry about that."

Stepping up to the bars Ash put her left foot and arm across and carefully compressed and guided her left boob, then shuffled her feet and squeezed her body through - or tried to. Sarah saw her eyes go wide as she encountered much more resistance than expected. She turned her head sideways and leaned left through the bars, again carefully protecting her sensitive right nipple from the rough timber, allowing her right shoulder and arm to come through and press against the bars. Sarah watched as her squishy belly, like bread dough popping out of a cardboard tube in reverse, slowly squeezed between the bars.

"OOF" Ash grunted as she came to a sudden stop, caught by her wider bottom. It was an awkward position leaning almost 45 degrees sideways, with only her left foot solidly on the ground. Her arms had better purchase on the bars but lacked the strength so she started rocking and thrusting her body forward, pressing off with her left toe. Her whole body was jiggling as she struggled, throwing herself at the gap again and again, making progress a fraction of an inch at a time.

Eventually she popped through, stumbling and catching herself on some boxes. She was panting and beat red, as much from embarrassment as from exertion Sarah guessed. Straightening herself up and smoothing out her dress she picked up the platter with the dirty dish and condiments and retreated up the stairs without another word.

That left Sarah alone with the pastries. The spectacle of Asherah's departure had provided ample distraction but now a cold sweat broke out on Sarah's forehead as she stared them down trying to resist the temptation. Resistance was indeed futile Sarah decided, but she needed to look for a way to escape before she got too fat to try. Asherah had eaten a lot less than Sarah had and she'd gotten so much fatter she almost got stuck where she had passed relatively easily only minutes before.

With much greater struggle than she'd ever experienced in her life, Sarah stood up. Maybe if she inspected the bars she'd find a gap or a weakness where they might break. But she couldn't take here eyes off the pastries. She couldn't move away only towards them, she found to her horror. Maybe if she took just one, she thought reaching for a small doughnut, she could only chew one thing at a time after all. She steeled herself as she plopped it in her mouth, knowing how disabling the effects could be, and willed herself to turn and walk away. But she had hardly gone two steps when having already swallowed the morsel, she felt gluttony turn her body involuntarily back.

This time, already munching on another doughnut, she placed several items atop the shelf of her left breast, cradling them with the crook of left arm and forearm so she didn't drop any. Finally she succeeded in breaking away and walking the length of her cage for the first time. The wooden posts that made up the bars all seemed spaced about evenly apart, Sarah banged on them with a fist or kicked them if her hand was busy stuffing her face. They vibrated, having a little flex, but none seemed loose.

By the time she got to the end she realized she had unexpectedly already finished all the food she'd brought, embarrassed by her own piggishness. She glanced back fearfully toward the pastry platter on the other side of the room but felt the laziness of being so fattened help her win out against the compulsion to go back for more.

Sighing in relief Sarah turned herself around to face the sink and turned it on. There was no mirror of course, wouldn't want the pig to know how fat she was getting. Sarah was doubtful, looking down at her inflated body, that anyone would really need a mirror. More likely they didn't want a broken one used in an attack or suicide. Sarah washed her face and hands then her boobs and belly as they still had sticky spots, to say nothing of Asherah's saliva.

Cupping it in her hand the water seemed like clear normal tap water and she didn't hesitate to drink her fill. Feeling somewhat refreshed, she turned back to her task.

Sarah picked up and errant pillow, and held it to her shoulder. She tried ramming her bulk into a post cushioned by the pillow. The first time only lightly, to see how much it might hurt. Adjusting the pillow, she did it again harder. Then again as hard as she thought she could. That hurt a little, bruising even through the pillow. The post flexed a little, but returned to normal. Sarah had hoped to hear some cracking at least. Defeated, her eyes fell to the floor as she tried to think.

By chance her eyes happened to fall on two adjacent posts where they were warped about knee height, curving away from each other. Sarah eyed the gap dubiously. If Asherah had had such a hard time, would even this affordance allow a blimp like Sarah to squeeze through?

Sucking in her gut as much as she could, Sarah squeezed her belly with her hands. Soft malleable blubber jiggled and displaced easily. There was no underlying muscle tone or food-baby to provide stiffness. Asherah was right, she really felt almost as juicy and jiggly as a water balloon. Maybe this could work.

Sarah looked around. Was there anything else she could do to stack the odds in favor of success? There weren't any tools in reach from the cage. Nor anything hard, sharp and portable enough to use as a makeshift saw. What about a wedge? Sarah did another quick search. Nothing immediately caught her eye.

Just as she was about to give up she noticed a small plank of wood on the ledge beneath the windowsill. It was glued down but wiping away some cobwebs Sarah saw gaps where it was separating from the fixture. It took a bit more effort to break it free than expected but Sarah got her prize eventually.

Holding it up to the gap, it was about twice the length that might fit. It wasn't very thick, she might be able to snap it, it would take some engineering however.

Sarah gathered up as many pillows as she could carry and pressed them in a stack against the bars with one the piece of wood, threading one end between the bars. With all her weight pushing the lever against the fulcrum of the compressed pillows, the thin piece of old dry wood hardly flexed at all before snapping with a satisfying pop.

Sarah wasted no time and got to work fitting a piece of the board into the gap at an angle, and using the other to tap it upwards into line. This was not an easy feat as the angle was bad, the board a poor hammer and Sarah hadn't much upper body strength to start with. But she kept at it and sure enough the wedge slowly climbed up from the gap and slowly spread apart the narrower section above.

"YES!" Sarah half whispered half shouted, feeling a rush of pride and sense of accomplishment as if she'd outwitted her captors. The hard part was yet to come she had to remind herself, looking at the gap. While it was in fact larger it wasn't larger by much.

Arranging some of the pillows to kneel on, Sarah got on her hands and knees and stuck her head through the gap. She knew there was no way she'd fit her hips through in that orientation however, and so began the awkward process of turning her body sideways, shoulders perpendicular to the ground while kneeling. Sarah was able to get her head and arms through easily, but her now massive bosoms needed more attention.

Well her left one passed with no problem as gravity stretched it toward the floor, but she had a much harder time with her right teat than Asherah had despite copying her technique. It was a painful squeeze and scraped up the back of Sarah's hand but eventually it burst free and joined its sister in reaching for the ground.

Next came what Sarah feared would be the hard part: her massive belly. Balancing now on her left elbow and knee, gravity also reshaped the profile of her belly. Still, her belly was much wider than the gap. Squishy as a water balloon, the first few inches below her bust line went easily enough but slowed to a crawl as she neared the widest point. There was simply too much dough being stuffed through too small a space.

Sarah pictured Ashera's earlier difficulties; the image of bread dough bursting it's container in reverse. There was no question who had more dough - a lot more. Looking back at herself, Sarah's upper belly had bunched into a roll, the mother of all muffin tops, pinched between the wooden posts.

Then Sarah heard creaking from the wooden wedge above her. Splinters crumbled off the broken end. In a panic she began humping and heaving her bulk forward. Her bottom was high in the air when her belly came free and she slid forward - two whole inches - but with a thud, she was caught again by her hips.

With a POP the wedge snapped and Sarah's mouth widened into a silent "O" of shock as the pressure suddenly doubled. It was all too much for her poor skirt, which immediately exploded off her fattened bottom.