chapter 13 part 2

Saddiq whines. He both loves and hates it when she gets like this. Such sweet torture she puts him through. He grabs handfuls of her belly, admiring how heavy and soft it's gotten. It hangs down quite low - almost kissing the seat. No wonder she needs a belly band.

"Saddiq, my love," she says sweetly, "I feel so empty. I need you to stuff me nice and tight. I can barely wait for the banquet."

That proved to be the last straw. He cums balls deep inside her - his vision rife with stars. His legs turn to jelly, and he slumps on top of her. Mrella gasps as he topples into her, knocking both of them to the ground. She finds herself pinned to the floor underneath her massive husband's gut.

Saddiq scrambles off of her as soon as it registers.

"Mrella! Are you okay?"

His wife looks up at him, stunned. She blinks and rolls over. Then, in one fell swoop, she grabs him by the collar and pulls him down for a bruising kiss. He's lost in the moment's passion before he realizes two things. First, he is again pinning his wife under his fat belly. The second is that she is humping said belly with a reckless abandon.

He's torn between moving off of her or letting her continue. But before she can decide, her legs trap him in place. Her eyes roll back as she cums with a silent scream. Saddiq can feel the sticky wetness smeared on his belly.

"You're so fat," his wife says with a dreamy look.

"Are you okay?" Saddiq helps her to her feet. Mrella looks at him with absolute bliss on her face. Then, instead of answering, she leans into him belly to belly.

"How much longer until we have to get ready?" Mrella asks eventually.

"About an hour? Why?"

"Because I want us to feed each other as much as we can at dinner. To the point where we can't move without help. And the thought is making me horny again."

Mrella pulls him in for another kiss as she reaches underneath his heavy gut. Saddiq can feel himself stirring even before she touches him. Mrella's impish look promises all kinds of shenanigans within the hour they have left.

He is both terrified and excited about what she has in mind.
An hour later, they've cleaned themselves up and are making their way to greet the delegation. Saddiq feels wrung out in the best possible way. He's thankful for the cut of his clothes. His body is riddled with love bites.

He glances at his wife and smirks. He certainly gave as good as he got. Mrella has her hair cascading over her shoulders to hide the trail of purpling marks down her neck. It feels like a wonderfully dirty secret shared between themselves.

"It's a little strange to see you walking like a normal person," he says low in her ear.

"It's because I'm not bursting to the seams yet." Mrella pats her belly.

"I suppose I'll have to do something about that, then."

Mrella howls with laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, you silly man," she stands on her toes and pecks him on the cheek, "Did you forget who planned all this? By the night's end, the two of us won't be able to move."

Mrella pats his belly the way one would a pregnant woman's. The impish grin she gives him fills him with both dread and excitement.

The two monarchs and the delegates exchange pleasantries until the first course comes out. Saddiq notices how much bigger his and Mrella's dishes are than their visitors. He looks at his wife in askance.

She shrugs. "Well, I can hardly expect them to eat as much as us, now can I?"

The first dish is a creamy mushroom soup. Mrella cools a spoonful down and holds it expectantly to his lips.

"You were serious about us feeding each other?" Saddiq blinks in confusion, "That's a little intimate, isn't it?"

"Of course. Don't you want to show the delegation how stable your alliance with Timoa is? I'm sure they won't mind. If anything, it might make them more comfortable with us in the long run."

Saddiq hesitates. His parents never openly displayed affection, but that never impacted state affairs. Then again, her parents do seem somewhat affectionate with each other. Though perhaps not to this degree. It's pretty much a cover to be kinky in public.

Mrella lowers the spoon. "I'm sorry. I just assumed you knew I wanted it to be more than fantasy. I should have communicated better."

"No!" He grabs her hand and slurps the spoonful down. Then, he scoops up some soup with his spoon and holds it out for her. Mrella's lashes flutter, and she gladly eats what he feeds her.

"Your Majesties are quite close, aren't you?" The head delegate says.

"Quite so," Mrella smiles, "Our was a political marriage, but honestly, it feels like a love match. He's given my people a new lease on life and treats me well. It was impossible not to become close. My husband is such a kind and diligent king."

"Oh, yes. Of course," the man replies, surprised by her honesty, "I am sure our kingdoms will prosper together."

They talk policy as they eat. Between the conversation and the delicious rich foods, the delegates seem to forget the absurdity of the two rulers feeding each other. Dish after dish rolls out. And while the delegates receive smaller portions, Mrella and Saddiq's guts bulge with food. At some point, Mrella worms her hand underneath Saddiq's shirt to tease his cavernous navel. It's all he can do to not react.

He reaches over and grabs a side roll in retaliation. Mrella's breath stutters, and she moves her hand. However, she shocks him yet again by holding his own hand and moving it to her soft belly hang.

"My dear wife, you are very bold," Saddiq murmurs.

"I'm sorry. Is this too much?"

"No. It's just you keep surprising me. I don't know why I'm not used to it, considering all the other times you've done stuff like this."

"You like it, though."

"I'm not sure. But I don't hate it."

Eventually, the servants bring out the desert. To his surprise, it's a very light dish of sweet yogurt and berries. Finally, dinner ends, and the delegation retires for the evening. Saddiq goes to waddle off to bed, but his wife stops him.

"Where are you going? Dinner isn't over yet."

"But ... the delegation -"

"Let me rephrase," she interrupts, "Dinner isn't over for us."

"O-oh." Saddiq sits can down, looking a little dazed. Mrella leans over and kisses his chubby cheek. Then she lifts up the hem of his shirt and tucks it neatly under his moobs.

Mrella looks up at him with bedroom eyes. "No need to be modest," she purrs, "I want to see you expand."

Saddiq's brain stops working entirely. She grabs his hand and guides it to the hem of her dress. He snaps out of it and tucks it under her bosom - not without giving them a good squeeze while he's at it.

Mrella's eyes flutter. She reaches out to grope her husband's chest in kind. However, before she can, a servant clears his throat.

"Our apologies, Your Majesties. Per the Queen's instructions, we have brought the remaining desert."

"Yes, yes. Of course," Mrella waves, "Put them on the table and feel free to retire for the night. The king and I might be a while."

"Your generosity knows no bounds, My Queen."

Saddiq's eyes widen as they put a sizable cake in front of them. It is covered in a thick chocolate frosting and decorated with strawberries.

"Looks good, right?" Mrella smirks, "You and I will try and eat that entire thing."

"Well, in that case, we'd better get started."

Saddiq staggers to get up, feeling the heaviness in his gut. He angles his chair to face his wife and gesture for her to do the same. They scoot together as close as possible. Saddiq leans over to kiss and massage Mrella's belly.

"What are you doing?" Mrella gasps in bliss.

"Helping you make room," he pushes on a spot making her belch," I want as much food as possible in you."

He rubs her belly, taking time to kiss and tease her softness. Another belch works its way out, startling her. He works out a few smaller ones and then leans back.

"That's it?" Mrella says, looking bewildered.

"For now. Now it's my turn. When we finish the cake, I'll give you all the belly rubs you want."

His wife pouts. It feels good to be the tease for once. He watches the way her belly oozes forward as she leans closer. Mrella carefully massages the firm dome covered in a layer of blubber.

"Dear husband, you are getting so fat."

"Well, you know what they say. When you are in a good relationship, putting on some weight is normal."

"If that's the case, you and I must be in a great one. If you wore the clothes we met in, you'd burst a seam."

"Probably. I'll probably eat my way out of the clothes I'm in within the month. You are making me so fat, my love."

"And you wear it well."

Saddiq says nothing. Instead, he grabs a fork and breaks off a chunk of cake. Mrella is all too happy to eat it. She holds her own fork and feeds her husband in kind.

The cake is a lovely marble underneath the rich, creamy frosting. Mrella imagines all the fat that this meal will put on her. She's not entirely used to how much softer and heavier she is now. She's three times the size she was when she came here. Yet she wouldn't shed a single pound.

She falls into a trance - her world shrinks to her husband's plump lips and growing belly. She doesn't exist outside the flavor on her tongue and the tight, heavy feeling in her gut.

Eventually, Saddiq feeds her the last slice of cake. She pops the last frosting-covered strawberry into his mouth. Her breathing is shallow for how much food Saddiq managed to cram inside her. Her world has shrunk even further to her overfilled gut. She tries to work out a few burps, but nothing comes out. She is completely full to the brim.

Mrella can feel the food coma creeping in. She distantly thinks of how uncomfortable it would be to pass out here. Then she remembers the bell she stashed away in her pocket. She rings it, summoning the kitchen staff that had been waiting for them to finish. They clear the table before gathering the maid staff.

It's all Mrella can do to stay awake. Finally, they help her to her room, clean her up, and help her to bed. Saddiq is already in bed, dead to the world.

"So much for the belly rubs you promised me," she mutters. She kisses her husband's cheek and lets the food coma take her.