The rational part of Buffy's brain told her she had just had a full breakfast. She couldn't possibly be this hungry. A drink was in order to wash it down. That's what her rumbling stomach wanted, she thought. There was a gallon of milk, almost full. As Dawn watched with part awe and part disgust, Buffy opened the jug and began drinking.
And drinking.
And drinking.
She closed her eyes as she poured the milk into her mouth. She felt her full, growling stomach growing cool as it filled with milk. She rubbed it gently as she drank, the rhythmic glug glug glug sound hypnotic. Her stomach whirled and growled under her hand, growing fuller with each gulp.
"Um, Buffy?" she heard her sister say, but ignored her. The very act of filling her stomach seemed to put her into a trance. She only started coming out of it as she approached the end of the carton. A dull ache was spreading through her cold, stuffed stomach. She became conscious that her hand was no longer feeling the flat stomach she was used to, but instead a gentle curve. A hard, bulging curve that pressed out into her sweat pants, riding her shirt up enough to expose her taut tummy to the world. It was starting to hurt now. She grasped her stomach with her free hand harder and moaned. She couldn't stop until she finished the carton. It didn't make any sense, but that's how she felt.
Finally, nearly an entire carton of milk was gone, vanished into her tiny, impossibly full stomach.
She belched so loudly it could be heard throughout the house. She wiped her mouth and wobbled in place. She put the empty carton back in the fridge and looked down to see what her hand was already feeling.
Her tummy peaked out from beneath her shirt. It was pushing out several inches, a hard, alien dome on her otherwise tight, slim body.
She pressed it gently with both hands. The cold feeling was dissipating, replaced with an uncomfortable, almost painful sensation of a belly stretched beyond human limits.
She belched again, unable to speak yet.
"What the heck, Buffy?" Dawn was more annoyed than mystified. She was used to her sister occasionally showing bizarre bursts of appetite, which she attributed to her slayer nature.
"Why did I do that?" Buffy asked, turning unsteadily to her sister, both hands still firmly on her engorged tummy.
With difficulty she lowered herself into the chair and leaned back. She winced both from pain and from the sight of her bloated stomach sticking out.
Then it growled again, followed by another giant belch. Buffy moaned, leaning her head back. She was still hungry.
"Are you okay?" Dawn asked.
Buffy had to gather her thoughts before she answered.
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