Chapter 9 - outgrown pt.1

Delia tugged as hard as she could at her mistress's cotton corset, her soft arms trembling pitifully with the effort. She watched a fold of flesh form and squish stubbornly together, bulging up between her fingers as she tugged the halves ever closer together. The ivory button stung as it dug into her thumb, and the buttonhole slipped slowly from her grasp as her strength began to falter. With clenched eyes and a violent grimace, she gave one last effort. Arms quaking with her forcefulness, she pulled the two halves of fabric within a pins' width of each other before she could struggle no longer.

"Gah!" she loosed her bated breath, huffing gently as the halves lurched apart. Delia crossed her tired arms, wedging them comfortably in the crevice between her budding breasts and bulbous belly as she smirked shyly.

"I... I don't think it's going to fit," she admitted softly.

"What?" Catherine gasped dramatically. "But Delia, this is my largest one!"

"Well, you see," Delia giggled, interrupting herself. She wasn't nearly as good at this game as Catherine was. "You see, Miss Wellington, that you may have gotten a little... fat!"

Catherine smiled at herself in the body-mirror, feeling the pressure on her breasts dissipate as a giggling Delia undid the laces and slipped off her corset, leaving Catherine clad in only her underclothes.

The mirror told the truth of Delia's words. Catherine turned herself slightly to the side, inspecting. "Why yes, I seem to have gotten rather... plump." she murmured. In the past few weeks, she had seen her body grow before her eyes. Her maids brought her food at all hours, and Delia was always there to occupy her time as they snacked themselves through each day. The results showed clear as crystal just underneath her porcelain skin.

Catherine's natural curves had been accentuated. Her breasts were soft and bulged out of her old brassieres. Her wide hips had grown soft round love handles that melted gently into her rear. Her bottom had been the greatest beneficiary of her newfound diet; soft, round cheeks greedily gobbling up her underwear as they grew. Her upper thighs now touched when she stood straight up, brushing slightly when she walked and spilling out when she sat.

Catherine cupped one cheek, squeezing it as she ran a hand over her front. Her belly was round and soft, swelling into a little ball of fat that slid serenely over her abdomen when she rubbed it. She watched her rounded middle crease softly around her fingers as she slowly ran her hand across it. She felt warm and feminine.

Catherine smirked at herself in the mirror and made a decision. She stretched her arms over her head and enjoyed how she spilled softly from her undergarments.

"Delia, inform everybody that I am feeling unwell today - and tell Suzette to fetch me some new clothes. I'm sure she'd like that."

Delia nodded hastily, trying not to look at her mistress. "Yes, Catherine."

"And tell Colette that I am feeling particularly ravenous today. I'd better not be left hungry. In fact, tell her to bake a cake for later tonight. I think this calls for a celebration."

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The ovens belched a wave of heat over Colette as she wrenched the door open, coaxing a bead of sweat down from her hair. She felt the flames with the back of her hand, nodded, and slid the pan of batter in. She had become very good at making cakes.

Straightening up, she dusted her hands and then prepared herself a small meal from the leftovers of dinner. Before she'd taken a bite, however, Delia returned with a pile of empty plates. She backed into the kitchen, pushing the door aside with her rump, and set her burden down on the table with a clatter.

"All of it?" Colette asked.

"Yes."

Colette glanced at the plates, stacked tall enough to surely have given the little maid trouble carrying.

"Are jou sure you did not 'elp?"

"Of course not!" Delia blushed. "She wouldn't let me have a single bite."

"Ah." Colette wiped her brow, not entirely convinced. She bit her cheek and tapped her toe. All of it! Catherine had eaten everything Colette could cook; breakfast, lunch, and dinner, each meal even greater than the last. It had taken poor Delia two trips each to ferry it all up to her. Colette laid a hand over her stomach, imagining how big it would be if she had eaten so much. It made her dizzy to think about.

"Mon chere, take zis," she slid her dinner to Delia. "Suddenly, I am not 'ungry."

Colette paced the kitchen for a moment while Delia enjoyed her second dinner. Minding her time, she set to making the frosting: chocolate, to complement the vanilla in the batter.

The cake came out of the oven just right. It was a big round slab, heavy and moist, setting steam afloat as Colette pulled it from the rack. She dumped it from its pan onto the counter and shoveled out the frosting, laying it on so heavily she would worry about making Catherine sick if she didn't know her mistress better. Once she was satisfied that her frosting job could be described as no less than obscene, she deposited the bowl in front of Delia for her to lick clean.

"It's amazing!" she said, popping up from behind the bowl with frosting on the tip of her nose.

Colette's eyes wrinkled. "I 'ave 'ad much practice."

The cake was hefted onto a platter, set aside, and the two of them set about clearing the table. Colette took her time and did the dishes extra thoroughly, trying not to look at the clock, but before long they were finished and there was nothing left to do but wait.

"Is anything wrong?" Delia asked.

"Mm?"

"You're just... very quiet."

Colette blinked. "Ah! No. Nothing wrong." She was thinking of Catherine, sleeping off her meal.

The sun had begun to set, and Colette found herself regretting allowing Delia her dinner. "I know," she said. "'Ave you ever 'ad fondue?"

At Delia shaking her head, Colette made a loop around the kitchen to grab the cream and chocolate, a pair of fondue forks, and a bottle of red wine. She put the ingredients in a pot, and the wine in two big glasses. "After all, zis is a celebration."

Delia sipped her glass carefully. Colette watched her face light up. "Ooh, it's sweet!"

"Try ze fondue," Colette insisted.

If the wine was sweet, the fondue bubbling lazily in the pot was ambrosia. Colette showed Delia how to skewer things with her fondue fork and to dip without losing her tidbit to the depths, and the girl took to it as fast as Colette would expect any chubby little handmaiden to.

They dipped strawberries and sweetbread in the chocolate and drank their wine quickly. Colette refilled their glasses.

"I like wine, I think," Delia giggled. Her second glass was empty. "And fon-doo."

"Delia, are jou drunk already?"

"Nooo!" Delia laughed. She was drunk and chubby. Her tiny body had become quite fat, Colette noticed. Despite Catherine's shift in attention, Delia had certainly not stopped gaining weight. The pair spent much of each days together, and whenever they were together, snacking was sure to follow. The young maid's appetite had grown over months of Catherine's influence, and she now found herself happily gobbling down sweets alongside her. Her wine-flushed cheeks were round and soft, with a little double chin that scrunched up when she laughed. Her short hair had grown out and now whisped down past her breasts. Her dress was not too tight, but Colette could see the obvious widening of her hips and the great bulge of soft stomach that rested pleasantly atop her plump thighs.

"Try this," Colette encouraged her. She brought a plate of sliced apples and salted crackers. Delia dipped them each in chocolate and ate them as they waited for Catherine's call. It was getting late. When the little bell finally rang, Delia had finished the chocolate and Colette had finished the wine.

"I'm drunk," Delia moaned. "Colette, am I drunk?"

She was. Colette told her so. She took off her apron and grabbed another bottle of wine.

"Jou should go to bed, Delia. I'll see jou in the morning."

"Oh, but the cake!" The girl lumbered out of her chair and made for it before Colette took her arm.

"I will take ze cake up to miss Catherine," she said. "Now I insist, go and 'ave some sleep."

"Okay," said Delia, rubbing her stomach drowsily. She was tired and very full. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight," said Colette, carrying the cake from the kitchen.

(Continued in Part II)