Chapter 1 Slow down

It had been nearly a decade since Aerin had set foot in Pandaria. Hetty, the premier gossip of Dalaran, had assumed that something terrible, painful, too tragic to speak of had happened, and in a way she was right.

That was where she’d met the first man she’d ever loved, and where he stayed. He’d never loved her, and never would. What was there to return to but painful memories?

As it turns out, there were old friends there too. Her sister from another mister, her friend ‘til the end, and the sweetest woman she’d ever met, Bo Yi, was getting married.

Finally! She wasn’t sure why Li Feng had taken so long to propose to her girlfriend, but she had at long last and here Aerin was. The mage had arrived through a long disused spell and been welcomed to a full weekend of wedding festivities.

Aerin had forgotten how much Pandarans partied and feasted. The first night was a vast dinner hosted by Bo Yi’s family, the next by Li Feng’s, and the wedding was held on the third night. She’d given a speech at the reception that left grandmas gracefully weeping into their silk hankies, she’d danced with Bo’s older brother, she’d met Bo and Li’s new friends and impressed them and been impressed in turn and the wedding had been lovely, goodbye, farewell, until we meet again, and just then, just when she turned around to leave, the worst happened: *oh by the gods why did Bo Yi invite him? And why hadn’t she warned me?

And when had he gotten so big?*

Chou Barrelheart was wearing exquisitely embroidered emerald robes — he’d always had a taste for finery — that fit him well, and did nothing to obscure the vast slope of his belly, the rolling hills of his chest, the wide plateau of his backside. He’d always been big, but whatever he’d been eating had clearly agreed with him. He was immense.

Aerin wondered if he’d gotten married. If some lucky woman — was she Human, like her? Pandaren like him? A Dwarf? An Elf? Whoever she was, Aerin hated her — was filling his belly at the table every night and warming his bed afterward.

Hate was too weak a word. And yet, she knew she couldn’t hate this blessed woman. Aerin hadn’t left because he cared for someone else — she left because he didn’t care for *her*.

The party was winding down already, surely she could slip out without speaking to him.

Unfortunately, his keen perception hadn’t changed, unlike his other obvious differences. The same instincts that had saved the both of them dozens of times from Mogu and Mantid and wild animals and sometimes just ordinary old assholes, ready to stab and steal, now put Aerin at the center of his attention.

His gaze landed on her from across the banquet hall just as she said farewell to Mrs. Hearthbrew. His forehead wrinkled under his cream and cocoa fur, and his bright hazel eyes grew wide. Was — was that a look of panic?

*That’s my cue*, she thought. *Go, go, go. Make a Drustvarian goodbye. Flee before I embarrass myself further.*

She departed quickly, her pace a polite sprint, nodding and beaming with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes to everyone on your way out. All of her attention was on her feet, the last thing she needed was to trip and fall, so that she didn’t see the soft, green wall of silk ahead of her until she ran face-first into it.

Right into his big, round belly.

“By the Light, I never thought I’d see you again,” he breathed.

Aerin donned a polite smile, the best one she could at short notice. “Well, I won’t be here for long! I better be on my way. Good to see you.” Being rude would only make things more uncomfortable. Best to be blandly polite.

“I was an idiot,” he blurted out as you attempted to round his girth. “I was a damned idiot and I’ve missed you every day since you stepped on that boat.”

She’d imagined something like this, of course. She’d dreamed of it, over and over, until she’d forgotten the dream, forgotten the hope, and now, years later, it rose like a seedling out of decay. She paused at his side, his vast, squeezable side, layered in soft tiered rolls, just to think.

“Do you mean that?”

Chou turned to face her, or rather, to swing his roundness toward her. His gut swayed under his silk when he stopped. All Aerin could think about was that drooping swag of underbelly. From here, it looked much larger than it had been the last time you saw him. “I do. I haven’t even gone on a date with anyone else in ten damn years. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

Her hand floated up, feeling a little numb, and drifted of its own accord over to the swell of his full gut. A quiet gurgle sounded as it churned over the wedding banquet, rich food digesting in a belly obviously accustomed to richness.

Years ago, she had spent hours stuffing and massaging this belly, gazing into his eyes and telling him how handsome and strong he looked, how comforting it was in his arms, how beloved he was in her heart. The cocoa-colored mane of fur on his head now had a few streaks of gray, and he was much bigger, but the way she felt when her fingertips brushed his quivering tum, the way he sharply inhaled, all those felt like no time had passed at all.

He was perfect. He was huge. He was hers, at last.

“Prove it.”

***

Chou looked over his belly to the plate of hot cinnamon buns. “These are new.”

“I’ve been studying,” she said smugly. Unlike him, she had tried to date again. It never worked out, but over the course of a few eager, hungry men she had learned how to make more than just dry mana buns. She couldn’t make anything other than “bread”, but apparently arcane energy understood that to include so many delicious treats: cakes, pastries, muffins, buns, cookies, anything floury and carb-laden and delicious. Often quite sugary too.

And tonight, she’d had the pleasure of making all of them for the fattest man of any species you’d ever known. Even that deliciously obese Draenei you’d dated in Theramore couldn’t hold a candle to the new layers of fat that Chou had added over the years. His gut was subtly tear-drop shaped, and hung between his thick, well-padded thighs. Bulging rolls, visible under the fine silk, graced his knees and elbows, and his chest was blessed with large, pillowy moobs. It was hard to draw her eyes from his magnificent body, especially when he softly quivered with every movement.

He reached for the pale ale to wash it down – more carbs, she noted with glee. “I can taste every hour of concentration,” he teased, then did the sweetest thing: he opened his mouth for more.

“That’s the last of the cinnamon buns, what would you like next?”

“Pork buns,” he said, grinning. “Can you make pork buns?”

Well, she certainly couldn’t make animal flesh, but there was a type of protein she’d had once that was made of wheat gluten. Would that be another type of flour? She thought so… or hoped so. “It’s been an age since I’ve had one. Describe it to me, remind me of what it should taste like.”

Chou wiggled in his seat and rested his paws on the sides of his belly, thoughtfully giving himself a jiggle as he pondered the ideal pork bun. “Well, the sauce for the pork must be the perfect blend of savory, salty, and just a bit of sweet.” He licked his chops and paused. “Maybe a bit more sweet, as you’re making them just for me. And the dough must be as soft and fluffy on my tongue as it is in my stomach. I have to be able to eat as many of them as possible.”

“To enjoy the flavor?”

“That, and, more simply, I just like eating.” Chou grinned, quite pleased with himself and his appetite. “And I *really* like the fire in your eyes when you watch me eat.”

Aerin pursed her lips, but didn’t deny it. “And is that all you like about me?”

His grin faded, his eyes grew tender. “No. I like the way you study everything, magic, food, even people. The way you care. The funny look you get on your face just before you laugh.” He bit his lower lip, adorable fanged teeth on full display. “Is my belly all you like about me?”

She shook your head, but said, “I can’t really be sure. It’s been so long since I’ve spent time with you.”

He winced. “I deserve that. Perhaps we can spend some time together while you’re here?”

“What do you think we’re doing now?” His grimace softened, then disappeared as Aerin held her hands up. Eerie blue light shimmered from between your palms, and in a moment, a steaming pork bun sat in her hand. “Try this and let me know how it is.”

He leaned forward to receive it, and closed his eyes as he chewed. He hummed in pleasure, and swallowed before opening them again. “By the Jade Serpent, that was perfect! That was fried gluten in place of pork, wasn’t it?”

She shrugged with feigned modesty, but smirked. “It was.”

“I almost forgot how much I loved it when you surprised me.” He leaned forward again. “Would you feed me more, please?”

“How many more?” she asked slyly, feeling powerful, desired, and more aroused than she’d been in years.

Chou took your hand and pressed it to the engorged curve of his upper belly, allowing her – no, making her feel how full he was, how fat his tum had grown. His eyes sparkled when he answered, “As many as you can make.”

Blue light danced on the walls of the humble inn, flickering in Chou’s eyes. He opened his mouth, again and again, for his little mage.

Aerin conjured more and more, neatly placing each batch on the side table before popping them, one by one, into Chou’s waiting mouth. With every delivery of fatty, sweet, salty goodness she leaned into him a little more. At first, her breasts merely brushed his silken robe, then his moobs and her bosom swept against each other with every motion, then she sank into the precious softness of his belly.

When she moved, he winced. “That’s right,” she cooed with deceptive sweetness. “We just came from a wedding banquet, didn’t we?”

Chou nodded and covered his mouth, belching. She leaned in harder, feeling a satisfying wickedness in her actions, and another belch erupted from him. His eyes widened, “Sorry! Yes, we did. I suppose I’m more full than I realized.”

“What did you eat?” Her hips ground against his plush fat, summoning more gurgles and eruptions from his gut. “Tell me everything that’s filling this belly.”

He shut his eyes, wincing. “Many, many vegetarian pork rolls that you made, oh, and emperor salmon, Mogu fish stew, wildfowl, oh, they served spring rolls before the banquet, crystal noodles with shrimp, I had some skewers of beef before leaving for the wedding…” He went on and on, a litany of eating that had begun this morning and built to a crescendo of gluttony through the wedding, reaching its peak, here with Aerin and her never-ending supply of bread.

Her body was pressed against his, her lips inches away from his mouth as he continued. He’d eaten so much, so damn much, and he didn’t seem that full. Anyone else would have been in a food coma hours ago, but he still licked his lips. Aerin felt hungry for him and devoured him with her eyes. He was so soft, so huge. She wanted to stuff his belly round, until he begged her to stop, or, perhaps, begged for more, begged her to stay and keep feeding him.

“And I think that’s everything,” he said.

“Everything,” she said with a genuine laugh. “I think you really did eat everything!” Her hips rocked against his swollen belly, and he tried to belch subtly again. “How much food does it take to really fill you up? To stuff you until you can’t manage another bite?”

Chou opened his eyes at last, and blinked in surprise to see how close she was to him. He froze under her gaze, his heart pounding in his padded chest. Aerin could feel it thumping, and pressed herself even closer. “A lot,” he said quietly. “I don’t know exactly how much, but even more than this.”

Aerin bit her lip and groaned. “Can we find out?” she asked. Her voice was low and husky, yearning, hungry.

His big belly grumbled, a low growl fading to a high whine. Neither could look away from the other, their eyes locked in a burning need for each other, and to see Chou too full to move. Finally, he found his voice again. “Aerin… please feed me.”