Chapter 1 - Prologue

Prologue

She had planned her escape meticulously. The chains that bound her, squeezing her edema cuffed wrists were left loose and hanging after a public feeding. As the town slept and her captors celebrated the success of her growth, she had to move carefully. Heavy, ham-shaped arms jiggle with every movement as she slides out of her chains. The princess rocks herself out of her bed, creaky joints protesting the effort it takes to bear her immensity. She willed herself to be silent as she shuffled towards the door of her bedroom.

"Come…*huff*..on…*puff*…*huff*. ."

Her stomach swings heavily with each swaying motion, lower back bearing the pressure of her weight gut, forearm pressed against the frame of her door for a brief but risky rest. Slender legs thick pillars of flesh, balusters of water logged rolls jiggle with every shift of her bulk. Heart pounding with fear, effort and determination.

“O-Oof..” She whimpers softly, slipping into the dark corridor, plush knuckle pressed against the buried small of her hip.

Each step was a small victory against imprisonment. As she emerges from the black hallways, she is blessed with cool night air against her flushed, sweaty, stretched skin. She stumbles through the courtyard, seeking signs of her captors, turning her neck a great effort due to the bloating in her second chin and thickened neck.

As soon as her cushy feet touched the stoney courtyard, the alarm sounded. In her overstuffed haze she had forgotten about the watchtower. In an effort to run she skidded against the slippery rocks, landing on her inflated backside. The fall was cushioned by the pillowy hills of cellulite, wide gut landing on her lap. The domes of fat hanging off her chest jiggle rapidly with each labored breath, wind knocked out of her from the fall.

Her body heavy and limp from exhaustion, carrying her back into the castle was a great task. Once she was secured, her captors prepared the next phase of her torment.

A thick vat of cream was placed before her. The scent of rich, buttery vanilla filled the air and made her stomach churn. “No,” She pleads, voice faltering from the lack of air. “I’m sorry, please, I don’t want to eat anymore.”

Without mercy, her head was tilted back, tube forced down her throat. Thick pumps of warm cream begin to flow. It was slow, torturous, the air laden with her muffled whimpers and the gurgling of her stomach. She gags at the taste, feeling her stomach stretch further, skin pulling to make way for further growth. The pressure was unbearable, legs spreading to make room for bloated mass.

She takes on gallons, face flushed with effort, jowls quivering with each swallow. Sweat builds on her face, neck and exposed cleavage, tears beading at her eyes. By the time the tub had emptied, every inch of her was strained, throbbing with the agony of growth. Shoulders bulging, broad and plush, red angry stretch marks traced her lower stomach. She takes in harsh, desperate breaths when it's over.

They left her splayed out on the bed, smothered by her own weight, only able to lay in a burping, wheezing heap.

“We continue this until you learn.” The priestess, standing by her bed, places a cold towel against her filled abdomen. Her reddened face jiggles, pointed ears turned down against her face. “I…can’t…” She’s cut off by a pained burp. “...I’ll…die…”

“If that is what it takes for our kingdom to prosper,” She says, voice crooked and sharp. “Then that is what shall be.”