Chapter 1
Claire pulled her coat tight while trying to ignore the chill night wind that cut through her like a knife. She’d had a long shift at the diner, and now all she wanted was to fall into bed. Thoughts of food briefly crossed her mind, but she quickly pushed them away. With rent due soon, her fridge was looking a little bare.I should have eaten something at work, she thought glumly. I’m so hungry.
As if reading her thoughts, Claire’s stomach gurgled softly. She put a hand against the flat surface and gave it a soft rub. It was going to be a hungry night, unless something miraculous happened.
Rounding one final corner, Claire started reaching into her pocket for her keys when she spotted it. The field at the end of the road, empty for as long as she could remember, wasn’t empty anymore. Entranced, she walked right past her apartment for a better look.
What should have been a flat expanse of dirt and weeds was now covered by a grand collection of wooden booths and canvas tents, all in eye-catching colors and sitting in haphazard rows. Chains of glowing bulbs crisscrossed the paths above, casting everything in a golden hue that not only drove back the darkness, but made the air seem warmer. Like a summer night, full of promise and excitement.
“It’s a carnival!” Claire realized.
Excitement blossomed in her chest. She remembered carnivals like this from her childhood, and how much fun they had been. But even as she longed to go in, something made her hesitate, a warning from the deepest recesses of her mind. She needed to leave, to turn around and run away as fast as she could.
But then the smell hit her, warm and rich and intoxicating. It carried with it traces of cinnamon and sugar, of butter and caramel, the rich savor of smoked meats and the mouthwatering tang of fried treats. The scents seemed to wrap around her, not only pulling her forward but tugging at something deep inside she’d thought buried long ago.
Not deep enough, though, as her stomach let out a hungry growl.
I will not! Claire told herself fiercely. I’ve worked too hard for this! She would not let herself fall back into old, familiar traps. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—let herself become that girl again. Not after clawing her way back out of that situation, of that body.
And yet, her feet kept moving forward.
“Fine,” she whispered to herself. “Just one quick peek, and then I’m gone.”
Claire carefully approached the entrance and looked around. For all the noise and bustle coming from inside, she couldn’t actually see anyone around. It was just a little creepy, to be honest, and enough that she very nearly turned around.
But then the smell hit her again.
I guess…it would be a shame not to figure out where it’s coming from, she reasoned.
Stepping up to the ticket booth, Claire peeked inside to see if someone was hiding just out of sight. Still seeing no signs of life, she cleared her throat and said, “Uh…hello?’
“Welcome, my dear!” said someone from behind her.
Yelping, Claire jumped and spun around. She found herself facing a tall, buxom woman wearing a form-fitting red dress. Her hair hung in perfect curls around her face, its dark color a stark contrast to her bright smile and strangely silver-colored eyes.
“Oh, my god,” Claire said, her chest heaving. “You scared the crap out of me!”
“Forgive me, please,” said the woman, still smiling. “I was just so eager. You’re expected, you see.”
“I…expected?”
“Of course!” the woman exclaimed, reaching out to brush a strand of brown hair out of Claire’s face. “You are the guest of honor! And now that you’re here, please let me give you the grand tour.”
Something about this situation seemed so familiar, but Claire couldn’t remember why. Nor did she understand why her every instinct was screaming for her to run away and never look back. She didn’t move, though, her feet firmly rooted to the ground.
“Who are you?” Claire whispered, staring up at the curvaceous woman with the strange silver eyes.
“Call me Madame Selene,” she replied. “And I have so much to show you!” She slipped her hand through Claire’s arm and began gently pulling her forward. “Come, my dear. The carnival awaits!”
The lights seemed to grow brighter as they crossed the threshold into the carnival proper. The strange woman—Madame Selene—led Claire down one row, then turned a corner into another. All of the booths looked similar, but her growling stomach immediately told her which one was their destination. Her hunger made it stand out from the others, as though with a spotlight.
They approached the booth, from within which came a sticky-sweet smell. Inside stood a plump woman wearing a frilly apron, smiling brightly and holding a tray of delectable-looking cinnamon rolls.
“You look like a girl with a sweet tooth,” the woman said with a smile.
“You have no idea,” Madame Selene chuckled. The sound made Claire squirm.
“I…guess I do,” she said.
“Then you’ll be wanting one of these,” the woman said, proffering her tray. “Best cinnamon rolls in the world, and no mistake!”
Claire tried to hold herself back, but the smell was too intoxicating. Nodding, she accepted one of the pastries and took a hesitant bite. In that instant, her world was transformed. The flavors were heavenly, sweet and buttery and warm. She started gobbling down the cinnamon roll, taking enormous bite after enormous bite until the entire thing was gone.
“Amazing!” she said enthusiastically, sucking icing off her fingers.
“As we told you,” Madame Selene smiled. “Best in the world! But shall we move on? The next course awaits!”
Without waiting for a response, Madame Selene led Claire onto another stall, this one wreathed in smoke. A large grill sat within, tended by a burly man with a thick beard. On the grill sat a vast array of sizzling meats, the occasional drip of fat making sudden red flames appear on the coals.
“She looks hungry,” the man grunted, eyeing Claire up and down. She opened her mouth to deny it, but her guide cut in smoothly.
“Oh, she is!”
Claire wanted to protest, but the smell of seared meat was making her mouth water. The man seemed to realize just how hungry she was, because he speared a juicy piece of steak onto a skewer and held it out for her. Claire hesitated only a moment before accepting. She took a bite.
“Oh, my lord!” she groaned.
The meat was impossibly tender, practically melting in her mouth with a burst of garlic and pepper. Unable to restrain herself, she cleaned off the skewer in record time, even licking it to get off the last vestige of flavor. The man smiled.
“A woman who appreciates good food is a rare gift,” he chuckled philosophically, then began loading up a plate for her piled high with grilled meats and roasted vegetables. The portions were huge, far larger than she normally would have allowed herself.
But here beneath the carnival lights, that no longer seemed to matter.
Claire ate without thinking, each bite eliciting a moan from deep within. A warmth blossomed in her belly, then began seeping throughout the rest of her body, relaxing her like nothing she’d ever felt before. It was all-consuming, which is why she barely noticed the subtle tightness of her shirt, or the way her waistband was starting to dig into her hips.
Madame Selene saw it, though, her silver eyes gleaming as a coy smile spread across her lips. “That’s my girl,” she whispered softly as Claire finished her meal with a restrained belch. “That’s my girl.
The next stall proclaimed to be the home of Monster Milkshakes. Claire didn’t even have to ask what they were when the man within handed her a tall glass filled with a thick, creamy shake and topped by a generous helping of whipped cream. Some of her old caution briefly surfaced, and she stared at the cup hesitantly.
“I don’t know if I should,” she said. “That really was a lot of meat, and…”
“Just try a sip,” Madame Selene said. “Just to enjoy the flavor.”
Claire nodded. It was a reasonable compromise. But her sip quickly turned into a swallow, which turned into a gulp, then became a guzzle. Thick, vanilla-flavored shake poured down her throat, and she greedily drank it all. Before she knew it, the glass was empty, and Claire found herself gasping for breath.
“Amazing!” she breathed, then hiccupped softly. Her distended belly was pushing against the button of her jeans, but she diligently ignored how tight it was.
“I’m glad you like it,” Madame Selene said. “Shall we continue?”
Time lost all meaning as Claire trailed Madame Selene through the carnival, walking from one booth to the other. Each was its own experience, a temptation she couldn’t resist. The world around her ceased to matter, becoming a warm, indulgent parade she felt too content to question.
At a kettle corn stand, a wiry man with a crooked grin handed Claire a bag the size of a pillow. The salty sweetness was perfectly balanced, and Claire found herself unable to stop after the first handful. By the time she was finished, her fingers were sticky and her stomach pleasantly full. She barely noticed how her shirt was now clinging to her softening belly, how the hem was creeping upward to expose an ever-growing sliver of flesh.
The next booth boasted an array of homemade pies, all laid out in a steaming line. When she awkwardly asked for a slice, Madame Selene instead placed an entire tin into her hands. It took little encouragement for Claire to dive in. The crust was flaky, the filling thick with apples and cinnamon. She moaned softly, scooping more and more into her mouth. The pie was gone before she knew it, but Madame Selene gave her another. She demolished that, too.
A corndog booth was next, where a fresh batch was seemingly awaiting her arrival. Bigger than average, Claire still had no trouble pounding down a half dozen before the button of her jeans finally gave way with a loud pop. She barely noticed, though, beyond an absent recognition that her waist wasn’t being pinched quite so much anymore.
As she ate, Claire was vaguely aware of a tightness around her waist, but she had become too lost in the pleasure of food to worry about it much. Madame Selene could see it, though, and smiled at the way the girl’s once-flat stomach grew more and more distended with every bite.
With every indulgence, Claire’s body continued to change. Her thighs thickened into plush pillars that rubbed together with her every step. Her arms grew softer as her muscle tone disappeared. Her cheeks became rounder, lending her an air of cherubic innocence. And then there was her belly, now pouring through her open pants and inching lower and lower with every meal.
She was growing bigger, and none of it mattered. It barely even registered.
For the first time in a long time, Claire felt happy. She wasn’t worrying about her figure, about what she ate, or what other people thought about her. She was simply enjoying herself in a way that had been anathema to her since she had still been a teenager.
Meanwhile, Madame Selene watched Claire with deep satisfaction, her strange silvery eyes glittering. “You’re doing so well, dear,” she murmured, running her hand down Claire’s back and resting at her plush side. “You’ve certainly made up for lost time.”
Claire licked her lips, trying to get every trace of grease off them. “I…lost time? What do you…”
“Never you mind,” Madame Selene said quickly, her voice thick as honey. “Come. I have one final indulgence for you. Something truly spectacular.”
Claire perked up. “Really? What is it?” Even after everything she’d experienced—after everything she’d already eaten—she was somehow still hungry. It made no sense, but she no longer cared. All that mattered was what her mysterious host still had to offer.
“It’s something just for you,” Madame Selene said. “Follow me.”
As the buxom woman began walking sinuously down the aisle, Flaire waddled along as best she could. She spared no thought for the heavy sway of her belly, or the effort each step seemed to take. Nor did she worry that her breathing was growing more labored, or that sweat was trickling down her spine. All that mattered was the next bite, the next meal.
The next indulgence.
2 chapters, created 14 hours
, updated 13 hours
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