chapter 8

Visiting Timoa part 2

Mrella wakes up feeling warm and comfortable. She cracks open a bleary eye and stares directly into Saddiq's soft chest. She smiles. It seems that they fell asleep in each other's arms. Mrella sighs. He's so good to her.

It is a shame that she didn't get to welcome him home the way she wanted to. She adjusts herself in his hold and feels something firm prodding her hip. A wicked grin spreads across her face. Mrella supposes some things are better late than never.

She carefully reaches down to pull Saddiq out of his trousers. His length is warm and hard in her hand. She traces his veins with her fingers and waits for him to wake up.

Her husband's face twitches. He sniffles and scoots a little closer. Finally, she rolls over and scoots up until her ample rear slots against his head. Mrella feels immensely grateful for falling asleep naked. She savors how perfectly she fits next to him for a moment before languidly grinding against him.

Mrella feels how his sleepy breaths against her shoulder quicken into pants. She slowly rotates her hips feeling his pre leak onto her cheeks. It all feels so deliciously naughty.
Saddiq dreams of flying through the air. The sun shines brightly as the air lazily blows past him cooling his skin. Finally, he spots a giant fluffy cloud below and lands on it. He marvels over how soft and silky it feels and settles in. It almost feels like a bed.

"Come here often?"

Saddiq glances toward the voice and is struck dumb. A winged woman stands there bright and saucy. She looks like his wife. Her green skin glows, and her large green eyes are filled with stars. Her white curly hair is much longer - nearly reaching her toes in its fluffy glory.

She's a bit thicker than his wife. Her toga strains to contain her curves. Her bosom threatens to pop out at any moment. Her fat belly presses against the fabric, highlighting her wide navel. Her full hips give way to gloriously thick thighs and shapely legs peeking out from the toga's slit.

The woman flashes a dimpled smile at him. Her cherubic cheeks and double chin give her an innocent look despite her sultry body. Then, she flies over to him - thick, soft arms pull him into a lover's embrace. He wraps his arms around her, feeling how they sink into each other's plushness.

"Who are you?" He whispers into her hair.

The other woman chuckles and pulls away. Saddiq immediately feels the loss.

"You don't recognize me? You silly man." She turns around. Her wings fade away to reveal an impressive plump behind, begging to be freed. She pulls it off, causing it to jiggle and shake with her efforts. She reaches around and lifts it up. She lets go allowing its heft to bounce freely.

Saddiq quickly steps closer. His pants disappear, freeing his hardness. He pulls her close, burying himself between her cheeks. He presses open-mouth kisses down her neck and shoulder while greedily grabbing handfuls of her supple flesh. She bounces on her toes, creating delicious friction.

"Who are you?" Saddiq asks again, panting.

She looks back - face flushed with pleasure. She flashes Saddiq a lazy grin and winks. "My darling, I am ... perfection."

Saddiq opens his eyes to see his wife languidly grinding against him. He supposes that would explain the weird turn his dream took. But that wouldn't explain why Mrella was fatter in his dream - let alone what it meant. So he tables that thought for later.

He reaches around and fondles her boobs. He kisses he neck before flipping her onto her back. Saddiq straddles his wife and admires her beauty. She's fattened up nicely since they've married. Though he'd still love and support her if she lost all of these precious pounds, he finds he doesn't want her to. He craves that voluptuous beauty from his dreams. But after last night, how could he tell her that?

He remembers her parents briefly and shoves that thought to the back of his mind. Instead, he focuses on the lovely woman in front of him and buries himself deep inside.
Mrella was not expecting Saddiq to be this eager, but she isn't complaining. His strong hands grab her everywhere they can reach while his lips seem intent on sucking as many hickeys onto her skin as possible.

She holds her husband close. The morning light spills onto his dark skin highlighting the freckles covering his back. Mrella cards her fingers through his auburn hair and takes in his spicy scent. It feels so good to inspire such a fervent hunger in him. Perhaps she was being silly yesterday. Sure, there will surely be mean-spirited whispers, but she doesn't live with these people.

"I love you, Saddiq," she murmurs, "I love you so much. I don't deserve you, but I'm so glad I have you."

Saddiq stops sucking hickeys and looks at Mrella with a serious - almost angry - expression. "Why would you say that? Of course, you deserve me. We deserve each other because we're perfectly suited for each other."

Mrella feels her eyes water. She cups his cheeks and kisses him soundly on the lips. Time seems to slow to a crawl around them. For a moment, nothing exists but them. Just husband and wife in a loving embrace.

Mrella sighs. Saddiq's strokes are slow and deep. Their bellies press up against each other, squishing her slightly. His fupa grazes her clit, coaxing her into a frenzy. Her hips buck, meeting his, the sound of flesh against flesh ringing out. She can feel a gentle heat build up inside her. She lets her orgasm wash over in a gentle wave as Saddiq pounds away above her.

Saddiq hikes Mrella's legs over his shoulder and straightens up. Mrella cranes her neck, trying to see over her breasts and belly, but can't quite manage. They jump and wobble as Saddiq picks up the pace chasing his own release. It's mesmerizing to see her body jiggle and shake.

She's certainly gotten a bit bigger since last night. She's not sure if she's happy about it, though. Conflicting thoughts of the Timoan nobility flinging barbs at her and stuffing herself until she cannot breathe fill her head.

Sensing her thoughts, Saddiq leans over, letting his fupa tease her oversensitive clit. Mrella yelps and squirms. The feeling is so good it almost hurts. Saddiq's thrusts grow erratic and frenzied. He doesn't last much longer as he empties his balls deep inside her. Mrella's eyes roll back into her head as a second more powerful orgasm floods her systems.

She lays there for a minute, feeling boneless. She watches her husband flop beside her, glistening from his morning surprise. He looks utterly wrecked with his kiss-swollen lips and tousled hair. She could only imagine how she looked.

"Mrella, you know I love you. I think you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Mrella flushes and snuggles next to him. She feels utterly satisfied.
Mrella stands in the mirror, feeling frustrated. Ever since the day Saddiq came home to her crying, he handled her with kid gloves. He's stopped actively trying to stuff her with food and has also cut back on his intake. He's also gone out of his way to touch and praise her body more.

She doesn't mind the second one, as it always seems to end with cum dripping down her thighs.

She doesn't blame him. After all, it's sensible to do until she can figure out what she wants. But she loves the feeling of eating until she can't breathe. She especially loves it when Saddiq eats himself out of his trousers, and the man has to waddle around with his belly exposed. But alas, she's been deprived of such delights.

Mrella's even managed to lose a bit of weight. Not enough for an outside to notice, but perhaps a few pounds. To her surprise, it sent her into a panic. Yet as much as she loathes it, the thought of mockery stops her from stuffing herself. By the time a month has passed, both husband and wife have lost several pounds. Admittedly, neither is near Timoan ideal, but the structured Timoan garments fit better.

The two sit in silence for the long carriage ride. Mrella fidgets as humiliating encounters flood her imagination. Saddiq tries to snap her out of it with witty anecdotes and light conversation. However, an hour later, he gives up and pulls out the reading material.

She honestly feels terrible about how she's ignoring her husband. But how can she talk to him without even understanding what's wrong?

The week spent traveling is an awkward one. The two spend most of the time making light chit-chat or silently distracting themselves from the oppressive atmosphere. Saddiq attempted to engage in some sexy times, but Mrella wasn't in the mood. Every step the horses took was a step closer to her fears.

Her anxiety grew so bad that she couldn't keep anything down. Saddiq tried so very hard to rouse her spirits, but nothing helped.

Eventually, the road gives way to familiar fields. Farmers wave as they pass through towards the palace. There's life in her people that she hasn't seen in a while. But, it seems the blight is more or less under control. Timoa might even be able to stand on its own in a few years.

The closer they get closer to the palace, the more Mrella sees elegant ladies and dapper gentlemen looking like marble statues come to life. Mrella looks down at her fleshier body in distaste. She isn't sure why it upsets her so much, even though her much fatter husband looks so handsome in her eyes. She just wishes she could have the confidence she felt a month ago.

Despite her nervousness, Mrella is happy to be home. Although she loves Lothor, Timoa will always have a special place in her heart. It warms her heart seeing it nearly restored to its former glory.

The carriage stops inside the palace gate. Immediately a swarm of attendants flocks to the road-weary couple. They usher them inside with much pomp and circumstance. Mrella longs to do nothing more than fling herself into the nearest bed. The stress must be weighing on her because she cannot remember the last time she felt so drained. But, alas, as per custom, she must greet her parents first.

Mrella glances at her husband. He does his best to retain his regal allure, but she notices how his eyes dart around, taking everything in. She smiles to herself. Timoa may be heavily structured, but it is very ornate. The palace itself is something of an architect's wet dream.

The couple is whisked away into different rooms. A flurry of attendants polish them up and tuck them into the Timoan garments waiting for them. Mrella is glad for her weight loss even though she does not appreciate the girdle she's been stuffed into.

A few hours later, Mrella stands primped and ready to go. She catches a glimpse of her reflection on the way out. Unlike Lothorian clothes that flaunt her softness and curves, her Timoan dress has taken great pains to hide them. Her waist is cinched, her breasts and bottom squashed, and her limbs are hidden away. However, instead of looking beautiful, she looks like an overstuffed sausage.

"We're so sorry, Your Majesty," one of the maids says, "We did what we could." Though the woman doesn't say it, her eyes shine with contempt.

Oddly enough, Mrella does not feel ashamed. Instead, there is a sinking feeling of disappointment. She says nothing, simply nodding, and walks out the door searching for her husband.

She doesn't have to go far. Saddiq is standing by the door, waiting for her. He looks about as disgruntled as she feels. It seems that he too has been stuffed into a girdle. However, his frame still strains against his clothes in an unflattering way.

"Ready to meet my parents?"

Saddiq looks at her with a grimace. "No, but we might as well get it over with. The sooner we take off these clothes, the better."

They make their way into her parents' sitting room. Blessedly, the only people they come across are maids and servants. Mrella might die of embarrassment if a noble saw her like this. Her parents aren't there, but she doesn't have to wait long. Her mother bursts in with anxious excitement.

"My baby!" The older queen scoops her up in a fierce embrace.

"She's been wanting to do that all day." Mrella glances up at her father as he strolls in. "Your mother almost ran here until I pointed out that's a good way to crash into a servant."

"Oh, hush. You've been counting down the days until their visit, Ryn."

"Yes, but I didn't try to become a hazard."

Queen Ralia playfully swats his arm. She then looks at her daughter and son-in-law and frowns deeply. "It seems that we will need to make some last-minute adjustments."

"If you could," Saddiq replies, "We'd be grateful."

"I'll have someone take care of it in time for the ball. I'm so sorry about all of this."

"Don't feel bad about it, Mother," Mrella kisses her cheek, "We're just happy to see you."

The four of them chat amicably for about an hour. Mrella's happy to see her parents again. Aside from mentioning her clothes don't fit, no one talks about how much she's expanded. She can almost forget how squished her middle feels.

Almost.

Eventually, Mrella's exhaustion wins out over her excitement. Her parents make their excuses and let the two road-weary travelers head to bed. Mrella loops her arm around Saddiq's and leads him to her old suite. The two quickly strip out of their confining garments and hastily go to bed.
Mrella wakes up with a mouth full of cotton. She cracks an eye open, befuddled at the mid-afternoon sun streaming through. The panic that she overslept builds until she recognizes her old bedroom. Mrella glances over at her husband. He lies sprawled on his back, slack-jawed and dead to the world.

Mrella carefully slips out of bed. She throws on a robe and makes her way to the kitchens. The queen could simply ring a servant to bring her some. However, it's been so long since she's roamed these halls. Plus, this is much faster.

She pads out to the hall and heads toward the kitchen. But unfortunately, she manages to get turned around. Mrella sighs, wondering how she's managed to forget the layout of her childhood home.

"Princess Xod?"

Mrella's heart stops. She had hoped to avoid people until the ball, but she guesses that's her own fault. She's wearing pajamas and a bathrobe in the daytime, and her hair is a messy tangle from sleep. But most of all, she is very much fat. Not her heaviest, but not her lightest either. Indeed, she's the fattest they've ever seen.

She takes a calming breath and turns around. Her heart sinks as soon as she sees who it is.

Duchess Miora is perhaps the most beautiful woman in all of Timoa. Slender and petite, she always had many suitors to pick from. But unfortunately, she also happened to be Mrella's childhood playmate. So Mrella often watched as boys would pass her over in favor of her traditionally pretty friend. Though associate would be a better word.

Duchess Miora and Princess Mrella's relationship was born primarily out of proximity due to their parent's relationship. The women didn't hate each other per se, but they didn't have anything in common either. Not to mention Miora was rather snide too. Despite Mrella's higher social standing, Miora was the prettier and more desirable of the two. As such, she'd often tease Mrella over her appearance.

"It's all in good fun, my dear," she'd say. However, seeing as Mrella could never find anything to tease her back, she never felt the same way.

Looking at her now, the duchess is just as beautiful now as ever. Her long black hair is expertly coiffed with an elegant hairstyle perched atop it. Her magenta eyes pop with her perfectly done makeup and flawless jade skin. Her petite frame is wrapped in luxurious silk that hugs her form. Compared to Mrella, she looks like a goddess.

"It's Queen Xod now," is all Mrella can say.

Miora giggles. "Silly me. Of course. How could I forget you went and got married. Oh, it's so good to see you again. Give us a hug."

Before Mrella can respond, Miora wraps her arms around the bigger woman.

"Ooh, you're so soft now. Hard to believe it when you've always been so skinny."

Mrella colors. "Um, yeah. I guess that's what happens when you're surrounded by delicious food."

"That's right! Lothorians do prefer their women on the bigger side. You are such a selfless person to sacrifice your figure like that."

Mrella colors further. "I mean, it's not so bad. I-I'm happy there."

"Hey, that's good! If you have to be there, you might as well enjoy it. At least you got an amazing rack out of it. I've always wanted big boobs. But, alas, I've been cursed to stay forever tiny."

"How can you be unhappy with your body? I mean, you're you!"

Miora laughs. "Darling, everyone has something they wish they could change about their body. The trick is deciding you're pretty anyway and ignoring anyone who says otherwise. Even yourself."

Mrella mulls over this for a moment. She felt prettiest when she felt fat. Stuffing herself to the brim was such a thrill knowing that every bite would fill her out more. Even thinking about it now is enough to make her feel wet.

"Well, I must get going. But truly, it is good to see you again. Don't be a stranger." With that, she sashays away.

Mrella watches her go with a thoughtful expression. She pats her belly and gives it a shake. Her belly wobbles under her robes. How could she ever wish to shrink it? Her stomach growls at the thought. She takes a deep breath, knowing what she must do.

But first, she needs to find the kitchen.