The Gluttonous Princess and the Troll Scratchings

Chapter 1

The Gluttonous Princess and the Troll Scratchings

Prince Michael is a young prince from the western lands. He lives a life of ease (for a prince) but is lonely, having failed to find a suitable princess to marry. Many matches have been tried, but all have failed as Michael has simply not been interested in the myriad of waif-like, spoiled brats that have been paraded in front of him.

One day, a letter arrives from King Alaric, a monarch from a distant land. King Alaric has asked Michael to come because he hasn’t been able to find a husband for his daughter, Princess Chloe. Although the king has not said why, Michael has nothing to lose, so he decides to help. Eager and curious, he heads towards the distant castle, ready to face any challenges and uncover any secrets he might find there.

For many days, Michael travels, before finally seeing the castle in the distance.

When he finally arrives, Michael is brought before King Alaric. He nervously bows to Alaric, who stands and welcomes Michael to the palace.

“So, you have come to see my… um… fine daughter, Princess Chloe?” Alaric says.

“Yes, I have indeed. It has been a long journey. May I ask, is she here?” The prince asks eagerly.

The king hesitates for a moment before gesturing to a nearby table, where the princess is seated with some overworked handmaidens. She is busy eating, being all but hand-fed pastries and other sweet treats by the devoted coven of paid ladies. She is dressed in an expensive white and gold dress, which is all but bursting at the seams as it tries to contain her bulk, for Princess Chloe is fat. Enormously fat.

Michael’s eyes widened as he finally laid eyes on Princess Chloe. Seated at a massive, ornate table laden with an abundance of delicacies, she was surrounded by a flurry of activity from her handmaidens, who rushed to keep her supplied with an endless stream of pastries, meats, and other rich foods. The princess herself was a sight to behold—enormously fat, her immense body spilling over the edges of the specially reinforced chair that groaned under her weight.

Her face, round and flushed, was framed by cascading locks of golden hair that stuck to her sweaty forehead. Her cheeks were plump and rosy, her small, piggish eyes glinting with a combination of boredom and insatiable hunger as she regarded the feast before her. A second chin jiggled slightly as she moved, adding to the impression of her overwhelming corpulence.

Chloe’s dress, a once-beautiful gown of white and gold, struggled valiantly against her bulk. The fabric was stretched to its limits, with seams visibly straining and small tears appearing where it could no longer contain her expansive form. Her belly, the most prominent feature, was vast and round, pressing insistently against the edge of the table. Each bite she took seemed to make it swell further, and the tautness of the dress around her midsection was a testament to her constant gluttony.

Her arms were thick and heavy, each movement causing ripples of fat to travel down to her pudgy fingers, which were perpetually sticky from the sweets she consumed. She wore numerous rings, though many were tight, digging into the flesh of her swollen fingers. Her legs, barely visible beneath the voluminous skirt of her gown, were thick columns of flesh, her feet clad in slippers that seemed far too small for her size.


Michael stops dead in his tracks and stares for a moment before recovering his royal decorum. He walks primly over to Chloe. “Aah, you must be the Princess Chloe,” he says with a deep bow.

Princess Chloe looks up from her platter of pastries, her cheeks flushed and round from exertion. Her dress strains at the seams, threads threatening to burst as she shifts to acknowledge Michael. Her belly, vast and overfed, presses against the edge of the table, causing it to wobble slightly. “Yes, I am,” she responds, her voice breathy from the effort of speaking.

Michael forces a polite smile, though he cannot help but notice the handmaidens constantly refilling her plate, their faces showing signs of fatigue from the endless task. “It is an honor to meet you,” he says, trying to ignore the unsettling creaks and groans of the furniture under the weight of the princess.

Chloe’s eyes flicker with a mix of curiosity and resignation. “The journey must have been long,” she says, before grabbing another pastry and taking a hefty bite. Crumbs scatter across her lap, and she wipes her mouth with the back of her chubby hand.

“It was,” Michael replies, watching as she devours the pastry with alarming speed. He glances at King Alaric, who is watching the scene with a weary expression. “I am eager to learn more about your daughter, Your Majesty,” he adds diplomatically.

The king nods slowly. “There is much to learn, Prince Michael. Much indeed.”

Princess Chloe paused her feasting to appraise Prince Michael, her eyes narrowing with a mix of boredom and disdain. She assumed he was just another boring prince who expected her to be thin and dainty. With a dismissive wave of her chubby hand, she addressed him, her tone dripping with the entitlement of a spoiled brat.

“And why,” she drawled, crumbs falling from her lips, “do you think you might want or deserve my hand in marriage? What makes you any different from the rest of those tedious suitors who think they can change me?” Her eyes glinted with challenge as she awaited his response, a sneer playing at the corners of her mouth.
Taken aback by her directness, Michael stammers for a moment, “Um… well, I’m not too sure, to be honest… After all, we’ve just met.”

Chloe waves her chubby hand dismissively, the rolls of her wrist jiggling slightly with the motion, and returns to her feast. She grabs a large, cream-filled pastry, her plump fingers sinking into the soft dough, and devours it with renewed enthusiasm, crumbs falling onto her expansive chest.

Michael isn’t at all sure what to do and stands before Chloe indecisively. He can see why King Alaric might be struggling to get her married off, but he finds her ample curves quite alluring, as well as her dedication to her dinner. Her belly, swollen and round, presses against the edge of the table, a stark contrast to the waif-like princesses he has had to put up with.

“I dare say you do have a mighty appetite, Princess. Bravo,” he ventures, his eyes drawn to the way her dress strains to contain her bulk.

Chloe looks up in surprise, her double chin wobbling slightly as she does. “Thank you. I do love food. And I love to eat. But enough about me. Let’s talk about you. Why do you wish to marry me?” She grabs another pastry, the fabric of her dress stretching even more as she reaches across the table.

“Well, frankly, I’ve been searching for years for a girl with your appetites, Princess,” Michael replies, his gaze lingering on her plump form.

Nonplussed, Chloe responds without looking up, “And why would anyone want that?” She takes a massive bite of the pastry, her cheeks puffing out as she chews noisily.

Michael looks puzzled for a moment, but then it starts to dawn on him what’s going on. “Hmm… It sounds like you’ve been listening to the naysayers for too long. Do you not see a glorious and beautiful princess when you look in a mirror?” His eyes soften as he watches her.

Princess Chloe scoffs, a sneer curling her lips. “Of course I don’t. I see an ugly, fat cow who should be ashamed of her appearance,” she states flatly, before sighing and taking another bite of cake, her fingers sticky with icing.

Michael thinks for a moment, watching her stomach swell even more with each bite. “Well, I see a glorious princess,” he begins. “Fat? Yes, but surely a princess should be allowed to indulge? To be pampered?” He steps closer, noticing the way her belly bulges against the table’s edge.

The princess is not to be swayed and curtly responds in a matter-of-fact voice, “A fat princess is an embarrassment, especially one so young. I’m only 25, yet I’m already fatter than my own mother was at 45.” She shifts in her chair, the wood creaking ominously under her weight.

“Well, blame these handmaidens, then. Look at them, all eager to stuff cake in your mouth. I bet they’re doing it deliberately out of jealousy!” Michael exclaims, becoming a little exasperated. He gestures towards the handmaidens, who are indeed busy piling more food onto Chloe’s plate.

“Jealousy? They’re my servants; they’d never do that,” Chloe says, pausing from her feast briefly, her eyes narrowing.

“Are you sure?” Michael pushes, his brow furrowing.

“Yes. They’re just helping me because they love me,” Chloe pushes back, her voice firm despite her breathlessness from eating.

“Ah! Well, that at least proves that you can be loved, despite your size?” Michael suggests, hoping to pierce through her self-doubt.

This at least makes Chloe pause for a moment. “I guess…” she considers before smiling and looking pleased with herself. “Hmm… what was your name again?”

Thank goodness, it looks like I’ve finally gotten somewhere, Michael thinks, before responding formally. “My name is Michael, Prince Michael of the Western Realms.”

The princess appears to have warmed to Michael at least a little. “That’s a lovely name,” she considers. “Well, Michael… do you have any other qualities that might make me fall in love with you?”

Michael realizes that this could be a key point in the proceedings and thinks carefully. To mess up here might have him kicked out of the castle. Finally, he responds, “Well, there are two things, actually, Princess. Firstly, I do very much love a big girl. And secondly…” He begins, before pulling something from his pocket—a sizeable packet of Troll Scratchings. “I have these delicious treats!” he exclaims.

The princess gasps as she recognizes the Troll Scratchings. Her eyes widen, and her chubby cheeks flush with excitement.

“How did you get those? They’re so rare! They’re made from the fat of trolls, one of the hardest things to come by in the whole world! You can never get enough of them! I’ve been craving those for ages! Please give them to me!” she squeals happily as she reaches for them, her plump fingers stretching eagerly.

Luckily, her overly fat body betrays her, and Michael is able to pull the packet just out of the reach of her pudgy fingers. “You must be careful with these, Princess!” he warns her. Then in a conspiratorial whisper, he adds, “Perhaps you have a quiet chamber where you could recline and be pampered?” Michael hedges.

“Where?” Chloe asks, her eyes wide like a puppy’s. Michael realizes that he has definitely earned some token of respect from Chloe with the Troll Scratchings, having brought them along on the off chance he might meet a suitable lady who might enjoy their like.

Still excited and eager to her greedy hands on the Troll Scratching, Chloe heaves herself up from her chair with great effort, the wood creaking in relief as she finally stands. Her belly, massive and bulging, wobbles heavily with each step, jiggling uncontrollably. “Oh yes, I do! Follow me!” She says, wiping the remains of her feasting from her face with the back of her hand before taking a short step.

Her belly, massive and bulging, wobbles heavily with each step, jiggling uncontrollably. Her dress strains at every seam, the fabric stretched to its absolute limit across her vast, fat form. Rolls of fat spill over the edges of her gown, and her thighs rub together audibly as she shuffles forward, each movement slow and labored. Her breath comes in short, wheezing gasps, and sweat beads on her flushed forehead.

Her tummy, having not been expecting to move so quickly, lets out a loud, angry gurgle. Chloe winces in pain, her hand moving protectively to her expansive middle. “Oh, shit, I am so full!” she moans, her voice strained as she waddles alongside Michael.

A mote of concern crosses Michael’s brow, but he keeps a straight face. “Hey, that’s okay, Chloe. A hand?” He extends a hand to steady the overstuffed and corpulent princess.

Blushing at needing assistance, Chloe takes his offered hand with an air of regal dignity. “Oh, thank you. I am indeed stuffed to the bursting point,” she states with a haughty tone, trying to mask her discomfort. “I really shouldn’t have eaten that much, but my love for exquisite food knows no bounds,” she adds, attempting to save face despite her evident gluttony.

Despite her obvious discomfort, her eyes flicker with greedy desperation as she glances at the Troll Scratchings. Her belly gurgles loudly, a reminder of her relentless gluttony, but she is clearly eager to get her hands on the rare treats. “So, about those Troll Scratchings…” she says, her voice tinged with both pain and anticipation.

Presently, the couple arrive at an ornate set of double doors. Chloe, hot and sweaty from the exertion, opens them wide, her face flushed and her breath coming in heavy pants. A bead of sweat trickles down her temple, and she wipes it away with the back of her chubby hand. Despite her discomfort, she is grinning ear to ear at the prospect of getting her hands on the treats.

“My bedchamber…. Isn’t it lovely? I got it decorated specially for when I find my husband…” she states, her voice a bit breathless, before adding quietly, “… some time ago…”

The room is richly appointed and has a very large four-poster bed taking center stage. One, Michael notes, that is fit for a very bountiful princess.

As the doors close behind them, Chloe lets out a sigh of relief and finally relaxes, no longer needing to maintain her regal facade. Her eyes glint with an almost feral hunger, her focus entirely on the packet of Troll Scratchings in Michael’s hand. She rubs her swollen belly idly, her fingers sinking into the soft flesh.

“Oh, those Scratchings are so… fattening,” she murmurs, almost to herself, her voice dripping with longing and anticipation.

Michael pauses for a moment, his hand tightening around the packet. A flicker of doubt crosses his mind. Is he being wise in indulging her? Is he merely feeding an addiction? The thought weighs heavily on him as he watches her, wondering whether she might like the idea of the Troll Scratchings just a little TOO much.

Moving with a speed he didn’t think possible, Chloe makes a grab for the packet. “Ha! Got them!” she triumphantly shouts, her eyes gleaming with a feral hunger. She tears open the packet and starts munching, her cheeks bulging as she shoves handfuls of the rare treat into her mouth. “Oh, these are… Mhhm…so good,” she mumbles through a mouthful, crumbs spilling down her already strained dress. Prince Michael can only look on in shock as she greedily wolfs down the packet, her moans of pleasure filling the room.

“Whooah! Hold on, Princess! You need to be careful with these… Especially with a full belly! If you can’t digest them quickly, they’ll grow inside your belly and can lead to a LOT of weight gain.”