chapter 10

Visiting Timoa part 4

Mrella has decided girdles are the devil. Her dress had been resized, and despite last night's activities, she didn't feel any larger. However, her soft shape was deemed uncomely and in need of cinching. Mrella, for the life of her, couldn't understand why. Sure, she had a fluffy tummy, but she also had a well-defined waist. Surely all that was needed was a corset?

Instead, she had to wear both. Admittedly, it did give her a flattering shape. She looked plush and curvy as before, just with a flatter tummy. However, she did not enjoy her fat being squished. Her time in Lothor spoiled her with its unrestrictive garments.

To make matters worse, it severely restricted her eating. After digesting her binge yesterday, she woke up feeling absolutely ravenous. Now it seems there is nothing she can do about it.

Saddiq looks less uncomfortable than he did yesterday but no less put out. He no longer looks like an overstuffed sausage casing. Indeed, his large belly that drives Mrella crazy is not as prominent. Still, he looks as handsome as he ever did.

Mrella catches a glimpse of her reflection and grimaces. She knows she's beautiful, and her marriage is secure. She's thrilled with her life right now. However, she does not want to hear the nasty comments about her figure or see any pitying glances. Her husband catches her expression and sweeps her up in his arms. Mrella buries her nose into his chest and inhales his spicy scent.

"It's going to be okay, my queen," Saddiq presses a kiss in her hair, "I'm here. Your parents are here. We all love you and accept you. If anyone gives you any issues, just let us know."

Mrella wraps her arms around him. "I'm happy you're in my life."

"And I'm glad you are in mine. Now let's go. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get out this stupid girdle."

Mrella snickers. "I don't think I've ever seen you so put out before."

"Heh. Put out. Understatement of the century. When we get home, the first thing I'm going to do is ban girdles."

Mrella cackles in earnest. "You silly man. No one in Lothor even wears girdles."

"And when I'm done, no one ever will." Saddiq sniffs in disdain.

The two make their way towards the ballroom. Mrella feels her jovial mood slip away as they approach the ballroom doors. Ice water flows through her veins. It's the moment of truth. She barely registers the doors open or the announcer's booming voice. Saddiq has to gently tug her to make her follow him.

Mrella's eyes flit around, taking in the Timoan court's reaction. Most of them look at her in shock before plastering on a fake smile, a bland mask, or looking desperately anywhere else. Mrella tries her best to remain calm and shoves down her desire to flee. Instead, she strolls gracefully, arm and arm with her husband. They make their way towards the dais, where her parents watch the crowd below.

Timoans do not make public displays of affection. So it was understandable seeing Mrella's people stare at their linked arms. Mrella is quite thankful Saddiq is here. She probably would crack under the unusually intense scrutiny.

She can feel her old meekness creep back in. Mrella shakes her head and stands tall. She is Queen Mrella Xod of Lothor - the reason they aren't starving. So who cares what they think?

All she has to do is repeat that until she believes it.

They make their way to the dais and pay their respects to her parents. It feels a little odd to be doing this. Previous years saw Mrella awkwardly glued to the dais except to dance with a few brave souls. Now she's got a husband to show off. What a difference a year makes.

There's a buffet table off to the side of the room - away from the throng. Mrella looks longingly at the spread. She's not particularly hungry, but it all looks so good. Then, to her surprise and utter betrayal, Saddiq leads her to where all the people are. She looks at her husband with a mildly put-out expression.

"Don't look at me like that," Saddiq says, "Politics first. Food later."

Mrella sighs. Being here reverts her back to the meek person she used to be. She squeezes Saddiq's arm for courage.
At first, things are ... fine. The older nobles tend to focus more on Saddiq than her, but that's okay. She's not being ignored perse. Her husband does an excellent job including her in the conversation. Plus, the younger nobles love to hear about her life as the Lothorian queen.

After spending a decent amount of time networking and mingling, Saddiq finally deems it a good time to eat. Mrella gleefully loads up her plate with all her favorite foods. It's not as much as she'd like - what with the girdle - but it's still more than any Timoan has ever seen her eat. She and Saddiq eat with the refined poise of any noble, but it isn't enough to keep people from gawking.

Mrella puts down her silverware and shrinks into herself a little bit. The judging stares make her feel incredibly anxious. Her husband notices her discomfort and frowns.

"Hey, you want to dance for a bit and then come back?"

She nods gratefully. Saddiq sweeps her off her feet and whisks her to the dance floor. Mrella sighs as she feels his strong arms wrap around her pressing her against his soft chest. Time and space slip away into nothing. At this moment, it's just her, her husband, and the music.

The rest of the evening passes more or less without incident. Mrella started to relax and be more confident. Everything was going great until an elderly duchess noticed Saddiq kindly load up his wife's plate.

"I must say, Your Majesty, that we are all grateful for your sacrifices on our behalf."

Mrella flushes and looks at her husband. "Oh, it's hardly a sacrifice."

"Oh, don't be so modest," the woman continues, "You have done everything to make this match work. Why you have even let him fatten you up like a prized hog just to please him."

Mrella can feel the blood drain from her face. A quick glance around shows everyone's startled faces. She looks back at the duchess, who looks absolutely mortified, having said the quiet part aloud.

Mrella's tongue-tied. Part of her wants to rush to her husband's defense. Part of her wishes for the ground to swallow her up. Her husband looks taken aback to do anything but gape at the woman.

"Well, I think she looks lovely. And they seem happy together. So who cares?"

Mrella looks for the source of the voice. Sitting nearby is Duchess Miora looking vaguely disappointed at her older counterpart.

"Yes. Yes, of course," the other woman stammers. "My apologies."

"Well, I am surprised that you would try to shame my wife or me." Saddiq scowls. "Have you forgotten who this woman is? She is Queen of Lothor. Crown Princess of Timoa. I do not care if you like how she looks, but you will not disrespect her."

"Hey now," Mrella soothes, "None of that. She already apologized. Let's not let a minor slight derail the evening for my parents."

"Hmph." Saddiq settles back down, but not before shooting the older justice a warning look. She sighs. This is far from over. She spears a morsel on her husband's plate and feeds it to him.

The entire table raises their brows over the overt affection but says nothing.

The two royals feed each other in relative silence. Mrella finds it both soothing and incredibly cathartic. The subtle yet obvious discomfort it makes the others feel is quite the power move. Though she'd never do it, the perceived threat of them revoking Lothor's support is enough to shut their mouths. And with the lovey-dovey way she and her husband are acting, Timoa wouldn't even have the consolation prize of remarrying her.

It's a heady rush realizing the power she wields. And to think she'd ever worried about trying to be perfect in their eyes. The other nobles realized it, too, because they became especially fawning not long after that display.

Unsurprisingly, after the ball, Saddiq tried to lodge a complaint with her parents about the elderly duchess.

"She was so disrespectful! How dare anyone imply such things. As if I would dare disrespect you like that!"

Mrella rolls her eyes as her husband angrily paces in their bedroom. "My love, I believe the public humiliation she got was enough. Plus, she apologized. Just let it go."

He splutters in indignation. "That woman disrespected you to your face!"

"Are you mad that she disrespected me, or is it really about you?"

"Me?"

"Of course. The duchess said I sacrificed myself to please you. For their sake, no less. In a way, that is a compliment to me, but it is certainly an insult to your character."

Saddiq deflates and flops onto the bed. "I just want people to know how much I love you for you."

"But why? The only obligation you have to them is fulfilling your end of the agreement, don't abuse me, and getting me pregnant. Why is it so important to you that everyone knows how in love we are?"

Mrella sits next to him, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"What do you know about my father?"

Mrella blinks. "Not a whole lot. He was a decent enough king but was something of a skirt chaser. I understand you two weren't very close."

"Well, that's part of it. My dad had really messed up views on women. He'd planned on having the 'perfect' wife - fat, gluttonous, and vapid. He said my mother shattered those dreams."

"I suppose that explains all the concubines. I can't imagine she was okay with it."

"She was, but that's beside the point. My dad would say, 'The only thing a woman's mouth is good for is food and sex.' He had hoped I would agree with him, but seeing how much he hurt my mom, I couldn't condone that."

"So when the duchess said what she said ..."

"It took me back, I suppose." Saddiq sighs and rolls over. "I love seeing you get fatter. I love helping you get there. But I'm always questioning if I manipulated you into doing this in the back of my mind. And as much as it would kill me if you suddenly decided to lose all that weight, I'd rather throw myself into a snake pit than treat you like my dad treated my mom."

Mrella blinks furiously, fighting a losing battle against the tears welling up. Finally, she lays down beside her husband and presses a tender kiss onto his double chin.

"Saddiq - love of my life - you are nothing like your father. Every day I am with you is a joy. I never have to doubt that you love me or value me as a person. You have treated me with respect since day one. You bring out sides of me that I didn't know I had because you encourage me to be my best self. Instead of trapping me, you've helped me to be free."

Her husband cups her face and kisses her sweetly on the lips. He holds her tightly, and sobs - a well of deeply buried emotions finally set free. Mrella's heart breaks to see him hurting like this. Yet, it's beautiful to see him trust her with his most vulnerable parts.

"Hey now, it's okay. You're okay. Come here. If you help me take off this blasted girdle, I'll help you with yours."

Saddiq sniffles wiping his face with his handkerchief. He carefully helps her with the outer layer of her clothes before unlacing the girdle trapping her tantalizing belly. It expands before his eyes like yeast-filled dough. He helps her out of her undergarments, leaving every green bulge on glorious display. She turns to face her husband, jiggling it teasingly.

He can feel himself twitch in his pants.

She helps him out of his outer garments before pressing herself against him. She reaches around to undo the girdle's laces. Her chest squishes against his with her pebbled nipples pressed against his skin. They shift ever so slightly as she fiddles with the laces. Mrella finally unfastens the clips and looks up at him ever so innocently.

Saddiq sighs with relief as his stomach is finally free from its confines. He kicks his pants off and basks in the cool air on his bare skin. Mrella hugs him one more time and presses a kiss on his cheek.

"You know, I love being fat. And while you helped me get there, I never did it to please you. I did it because I saw how sexy being fat looked and wanted that for myself. The unfettered access to delicious food and satisfaction I feel after stuffing myself contributed to it. You love me like this just makes the whole thing better."

Saddiq kisses her again. He sits on the bed and pulls her down with him. The two hold each other close as their kisses grow more heated. Mrella grabs one of his hands and places it on a side roll. He fondles it with enthusiasm before exploring the rest of her. Her soft warmth draws him in like a moth to a flame. Before she knows it, she is flat on her back, looking up at him with bedroom eyes.

He takes her eagerly, relishing the way his fat smooshes against hers. Their hands greedily roam across each other, grabbing and fondling whatever softness they touch. They kiss with an almost bruising force as they explore each other's mouths. He smiles into the kiss. His wife makes the cutest sounds when he takes her.

Mrella breaks the kiss and stares at him with unbridled lust. "You love how fat I am, don't you big boy?"

"Oh yeah. I loved it when you surprised me yesterday. Sprawled out, begging me to stuff you to the brim. You looked so decadent."

"You'd love to see me fatten up even more, wouldn't you?"

"Mm, yes. I'd love to see more of this." He leans back and grabs her belly with both hands. His fingers practically burrow into her rolls while he gives her middle a good shake. Both of their frames shake with his efforts.

"I know you would," she smirks, "But the question is, how fat do you want me?"

"As fat as you want to be."

"No, silly," she wraps her legs around him, pulling him as deep inside her as possible, "How fat do you want me to be?"

Saddiq feels a bit of panic start to build up. His mind flits back to that dream he had a weak ago.

Mrella cups his face and kisses him sweetly. "Hey, I don't care what you are thinking about. I just want to know. I don't care if you want me to be slightly bigger or immobile. Sure, if I don't want to be that big, I will let you know. But I just want you to trust me."

Saddiq licks his lips. "Well. I don't want you immobile."

"Well, that makes two of us."

Saddiq chuckles. "I guess so. But I do want you bigger. Like a lot bigger."

"How much bigger? Don't leave me in suspense."

"I suppose I want you so fat, no one can tell if I've knocked you up?"

Mrella looks up at him with an unreadable expression. Part of him wants to take it back, but he soldiers on.

"I think it'd be pretty hot, you know? Every day I'd stuff you like we did when we were first married. I'll fill you to the brim with food from the moment you wake up. You'd eat until you couldn't fit another bite inside you. Then as soon as you digest enough, I'll feed you some more.

"I'll fatten you up so fast the royal tailor will give up trying to make your clothes. As soon as you get something that fits, you'll burst out of it by the end of the week. You'll give up on wearing clothes after a while. Just spending all your time feeding the bottomless pit we made together."

Mrella's hips roll underneath him with increasing enthusiasm. It feels so good that he momentarily forgets what he was talking about - let alone his anxiety.

"Tell me more," she pants, "I want to hear all of it."

"Every part of you will be engorged with fat. Every time you move, you'll quiver. I could fit my entire length inside your navel easily and get off. If I wanted to make an heir with you, I'd have to spread your legs wide and lift your gut up to reach your sweet center. If I took you from behind, your belly would reach the ground.

"Once I finally knock you up, you'll be too fat for anyone to notice. I'll touch your stomach, and I'd only feel the soft fat encasing your middle. Then the big day will come. You'll pop out one - no three babies. And no one could even tell the difference after you've given birth."

To his surprise, Mrella's eyes roll back. She comes with a shout, squirting as she shakes.

"Did ... did you just ..." Saddiq stares at her as she comes back into awareness.

"I guess I did," Mrella chuckles breathlessly.

Saddiq attacks her with frenzied kisses. He pounds into her with a reckless abandon. She's much louder now as he takes his pleasure. Their bodies wobble and shake, making lewd slapping sounds. He didn't know that he could become even more attracted to his wife than he already was. But then again, her favorite pastime is proving to him how much more he could love her.

He comes forcefully with a shout. He manages to pull another orgasm or two from his wife, leaving her utterly boneless. Finally, he slips out of her feeling the most satisfied he's ever felt. He will always treasure their first time together, but this night is a close second. He laid his soul bare to her, and she accepted it with arms wide open.

"I can't feel my legs," Mrella pants next to him.

"Was it that good?" Saddiq slurs drowsily. He should clean them up before the cum dries, but he can't be bothered now.

"I think it's the best one yet."

"You really know how to make a guy feel special."

She chuckles and rolls over to his side. She snuggles against him, lovingly stroking his chest. Saddiq feels his eyelids grow heavier.

"When we get home, I want to try that."

Saddiq cracks a sleepy eye open and looks at his wife. "Really? You're open to that?"

"Well, maybe not being so fat that you can't tell if I'm carrying triplets. But everything else sounded good."

"Wow. That's ... I don't know what to say."

"How about 'good night'? I don't think I've ever orgasmed so hard."

"Well, we have the whole carriage ride back to try and top that. Just you and me for a whole week in that tiny space."

"Stop seducing me. I am sleepy. If I come anymore, I may pass out."

Saddiq laughs. "As my queen commands."

After spending some intimate time with Mrella's parents, they left the following evening. It was nice to spend time with them as family and not as allied royals. Mrella even got to spend some time catching up with Duchess Miora. The two women even made plans for the duchess to visit Lothor sometime.

Mrella left Timoa for the second time in her life. However, she feels eager instead of the anxiety that riddled her first departure. Week-long sex-filled carriage ride aside, she feels closer to her husband than before. She can't find the words to fully express the ever-growing love she feels for him. But whatever those words are, she knows he feels them too.