Chapter 7 - catherine's return

"My Dearest Catherine

I first offer my deepest apologies for not arriving with this boat as planned. Know that though I miss you deeply, I have decided to stay in England just a few more months. I have found the most wonderful boy from a respected family, and I plan to stay until arrangements are made for you two to be wed when I return in the autumn. As you have refused to make a choice, I am choosing for you.

Your honored Father,

-Mr. Wellington"

Catherine read the note again, feeling hot anger swell in her breast. The spoiled young heiress felt betrayed by her own father. How dare he go behind her back like this?

She huffed indignantly. She remembered the one other time her father had gone behind her back - years ago, when he had taken away her childhood sweets and put her on a strict diet. An idea began to occur to her.

Fine. If her father was going to serve her with such an unpleasant surprise, it was only right that she returned the favor.

o o o

"Delia, it's truly horrible, isn't it? To be forced to marry - to be married at all!" Catherine moaned dramatically. It was nearly noon, and she was lying undressed in her bed, with Delia standing beside her.

The dark-haired serving girl nodded quickly, emphasizing the little double-chin she had grown since the pair had last met. "Oh, yes, Catherine. I can't imagine it."

Catherine glanced over at Delia, silently marveling. Before she had left on her trip, Catherine had given Collette instructions to keep Delia well-fed. Yet not in her wildest fantasies had she imagined just how well the cook would do her job! Before, Delia had been a skinny girl with a soft tummy, not yet even chubby. Just three weeks later, Delia was a blossoming little chubster! Catherine estimated she had gained at least fifteen pounds. Her breasts were much plumper than before, and jiggled slightly when she walked. Her belly was prominent, a large round bulge pressing obviously against her dress, and Catherine could only imagine that her thighs were equally plump and juicy beneath the folds of her maid's dress...

Delia could feel her mistress's eyes staring at her, feeling how they lingered on the crest of her cleavage and the bulge of her belly. The looks made her blush furiously, but not from embarrassment. Colette had been right - Catherine loved to watch her grow, and Delia loved the looks she gave her.

Catherine sighed, stretching her lithe form lazily across her bedsheets like a cat. "Delia, I'm a bit hungry. Go and fetch our snack from the kitchens, would you?"

Delia felt a flutter in her stomach. This was Catherine's first day back, and she was eager to show just how much her capacity had improved. Besides that, Delia was beginning to be desperately hungry.

She went off to the kitchens and spoke briefly to Colette, who handed her the heavy platter of pastries. "I made zem with extra love, zis time," she said with a wink and a gentle pinch of Delia's soft side. Delia squeaked, flushing deeply as she hurried away from the laughing cook.

When she got back to Catherine's room, she placed the platter on the sheets of the bed. Catherine looked over the massive platter, looking a little... nervous?

"My my, they do look delicious, don't they Delia?" Catherine said quietly, sitting on her knees and examining the many treats. Carefully, she picked one - a French tart - and examined it.

"Well... here goes nothing."

Suddenly, Catherine shoved the tart in her mouth. All of it. Her pale cheeks bulged with pastry, and a splash of red filling smudged her soft pink lips. Delia looked in shock as her mistress slowly chewed, moaning in ecstasy at the sweet flavor.

Catherine swallowed, noticing Delia's shocked expression. "What? If I have no choice in who I marry, there's no reason for me not to let myself go a little."

Delia watched in amazement as Catherine began to dig into the sugary treats with the ferocity of a starved dog. So long denied the pleasures of fattening food, Catherine was once again submerged in the indulgent joy of eating, abandoning her prim and proper composure as she shamelessly stuffed cake and pie and puff eagerly into her waiting maw.

Delia watched, utterly fascinated by Catherine's sudden change. The carefully constructed aura that the beautiful heiress had created for herself quickly dispersed as Delia watched her giggle with glee and moan in pleasure. Tufts of her shimmering blond hair were glued to her sticky lips, and her billowing white nightdress was soon decorated with sugary splotches of spilled filling. After each successful culinary conquest, Catherine licked the frosting off of each slender finger with a loud smack, giggling at her own audacity.

After ten minutes of eating, Catherine's pace slowed dramatically. She sighed contentedly. "This is amazing," she said, munching slowly on a chocolate eclair, "But it seems I don't quite have your talent for eating, Delia."

She finished the eclair and groaned, lifting up her nightdress to reveal her milky thighs and full middle. It was bloated out only slightly, but seemed to be giving Catherine some amount of trouble. "How do you do it, deary?" she whined good-naturedly, cupping her rounded tummy gingerly. "I feel fit to burst, and I haven't yet had half the platter!"

Delia stared at the sight before her. She did not know why, but the sight of her controlling mistress in such a state, puffy and full, made her feel... different. Like she didn't want her to stop.

"Y-you... you can surely fit more," Delia stuttered uncertainly.

Catherine gazed at her stomach uncertainly. "I don't know. I feel quite... replete."

Delia mustered her courage. "Let me help you," she said, climbing onto the soft bed. She could feel her belly hang and jiggle as she crawled to Catherine. Her stomach growled with hunger as she picked up a pastry, but it wasn't meant for her. She leaned over her disheveled mistress, who watched her with a mixture of uncertainty and desire.

Slowly the tart was lowered into Catherine's open mouth. She tore out a big chunk, the jelly running down her chin as she chewed. She was lying back, reclined on her pillows, with Delia leaned overtop of her. She lifted her knees so that they straddled Delia's softened hips.

Catherine allowed herself to be fed, the bites coming faster and more confidently. The heat from her loins competed with the pressure in her middle, and she was certain that her wetness was on show should Delia simply glance down. Catherine watched Delia's puffy cheeks reddened and her breath quicken as the tart disappeared and a slice of pie took it's place.

Catherine silently obeyed her maid, letting her feed the sweet fruit pie down her throat. She was definitely full now, yet Delia went for another. "Delia," she started, but was interrupted by the final mouthful of a sweet roll. Catherine clutched her rounded tummy with both hands, feeling it rumble as Delia grabbed for another slice of cake.

"Del, I think-" again she was cut off by a mouthful of frosting. She felt a hint of desperation as the pressure grew, yet she had never been so heated in all her life. She felt something rising up her throat, only to be shoved back down by another mouthful of cake.

As soon as the cake was gone, Catherine grabbed Delia's wrist. "No more," she gasped. She groaned, loosing a rather guttural belch before flopping weakly back on her pillows. rubbing her stomach slowly.

Delia looked at her mistress, horrified by what she'd done. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry... I didn't mean too, I just... I just..."

Catherine smiled, unable to be angry. After all, she knew the feeling. And now that the gas was out, she felt much better. "It's alright, Delia. You did a good job. I think you'd best go to the kitchens and... and congratulate Colette for such a good meal. Tell her I'll expect more like it in the future."

Delia nodded meekly, getting off the bed and smoothing out her frumpled dress. "Y-yes, of course, Lady Catherine."

As soon as the door closed, Catherine groaned, scooting her damp panties halfway down her thighs as she carefully stroked herself, careful not to upset her gently gurgling gut.