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Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Fantasy · #1921744
You are given magical choices for your future, as a result of helping someone.
This choice: just keep eating, you're HUNGRY!  •  Go Back...
Chapter #4

Filling the Void

    by: WordsCarryWeight Author IconMail Icon
Something is definitely off here. You've eaten so much food and you don't even feel close to being full. You lean back in your chair, and put your hands on your rounded out belly. Giving it a gentle rub, you wonder how something that was so much bigger than it used to be only a couple of hours ago could feel so empty. If only you had asked Felix more questions! Maybe this was some kind of side effect from the clay? But to suffer the side effect of something, didn't you have to use it first? Speaking of which, how were you meant to use it?

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to centre yourself and work out how to deal with this. He may be many things and have terrible judgment about himself, but you had to admit that your brother was good in a crisis and he had helped you out with an occasional decent insight. What would he say about this...

"So you used magic and it didn't turn out the way that you thought it would? What a shocker, dummy." You open your eyes back up and mutter under your breath, but it was a solid point. Either you messed up or you somehow managed to use the clay without realising it. Whatever the cause, there's no way that you can sort this out on your own. You need to call Felix, but first you decide to check the clay and the gem to ensure that there are no signs of any obvious damage or usage so you can let him know exactly what's up.

As your hands move down to your pockets, you hear and feel a long, low gurgle come from the centre of your gut and they quickly move to the front of your belly, pushing and lightly sinking in to the doughy new fat there, as if they could somehow supress or force down your ravenous and rapidly growing hunger. The gurgle is causing your belly to quiver slightly and you can feel its soft outer shell begin to wobble ever so gently in response. You grit your teeth and slowly start to lean forward in your chair, hoping that your stomach is just upset and shifting slightly might help. Before you get all the way forward, the thick scent of the creamy lasagne hits your nostrils and you remember the ice cold milk and can imagine how it would quench a deep thirst that you didn't even realise that you had. Your mouth waters, your will slips and everything around you that can't be shoved into your belly seems to dull and fade into the background. Another thought or emotion rises within you, but the hunger swallows it before consuming you whole. Your hands thrust forward and forego the spoon that you were using previously for the lasagne - no time and it couldn't hold enough anyway - and dive straight into the tray, grabbing large fistfuls of the food inside, before stuffing it into your eagerly waiting mouth.

Your taste buds explode and you wonder for the briefest of moments if this is even the same lasagne that you were eating just a moment ago. Your cheeks bulge out and as you slowly chew, you run your tongue over the food and savour the perfect combination of temperature, texture and taste. Your stomach gurgles impatiently and you reflexively swallow, your hands already digging in to lasagne dish for more food. You have even less time to appreciate the flavour this time as your need to fill the emptiness inside you takes over. You quickly get in to a rhythm of stuffing food into your mouth, chewing only as much as is necessary and swallowing and although you are broadly aware of what you are eating and that it tastes good, the only thing that of any real importance is that you don't stop.

You have a vague impression of returning to the fridge and feel a biting cold that must mean that you went through the freezer drawer, but anymore than that is a mystery. The only things that you are aware of is the near constant chewing and feeling of having a full mouth and an empty belly. At one point you remember moving across the kitchen, driven by the desire to find more to eat. The distance between food is almost unbearable, the soundtrack of the afternoon is the rustling of plastic bags and the ripping of cardboard boxes.

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Black spots dance at the edge of your vision, the world lurches slowly back into view and you become slowly aware of your ragged breaths. You take a moment to groggily look around the kitchen and are at first confused by the fact that the ceiling seems to be so much higher than you remember it, until you come to realise that you are sat on the floor, slumped up against one of the walls. As feeling returns to the rest of your body and the numbness retreats from your legs, you realise that they are splayed wide open. Your forearms meanwhile are resting on the outer edges of your thighs and your hands are cupping and cradling...

Your head groggily tilts forward and as they catch sight of your belly, your sleepy eyes dramatically bulge open. Now that you see the sheer size of it, you can feel your gut resting on your thighs and your underbelly grazing the cool ceramic of the tiled kitchen floor. Steadying your hands on the floor, you slowly push off from the wall and lean forward, feeling more of your belly push and spread forth on the kitchen tile as you do, like dough being pushed out on a bread board. Bringing your legs up, you awkwardly push yourself on to your side and have to shuffle around feeling your belly shake and wobble as you do so. Once you're on all fours, you grab hold of a table leg, tuck your leg slowly up at a wider angle than you're used to and gradually start to pull yourself up to your feet. You plant your feet in the floor and slowly straighten your back and as you do so, your belly rises up and expands outward. By the time that you're fully standing, your belly is a big round globe of plush flesh. You wrap your arms forward and around your new girth and are only just able to interlock your fingers at the front. You start to slowly rub and squeeze as you move your hands back to the sides of your gut and suddenly realise that just like before, in spite of the sheer amount of food that you have consumed that you don't feel stuffed at all, more like satiated, or as if you have managed to quieten a voice – for now.

You have no idea just how much time has passed since you began your binge, but you do know that it's only a matter of time before someone comes home. You also suspect that it won't be too long before your hunger returns, so you need to act fast. "Felix," you call out as you begin to move around the table, gathering up empty packets and pooling together any crockery. You recognise the lasagne dish on the table which looks surprising debris clear. A vague feeling washes over you, more a memory dressed as a sensation. Did you... lick it clean? Looking around again, you spot the salad bowl on the other side of the kitchen, it's contents spread out on the floor. Salad never was your favorite food. In fact, there seemed to be a lot of wrappers and cardboard, not to mention crumbs and chunks of food, spread across the floor. Your hand moves to your gut as you frown. Cleaning the floor can wait until last.

"Felix!" You call a little louder, trying to focus on him whilst tidying the kitchen as fast as you're able to whilst adjusting to your new body. Moving around, you notice how you've had to change your stance to accomodate your girth and the way in which your walk has developed a definite sway. You think you like it. You're about to call out the magician's name again when you hear someone walking up the path to the front door of the house and your heart starts thudding loudly in your chest. You hold your breath, hoping that you were mistaken but you can hear whoever it is fumbling around on the other side of the door with something. The route up to your room runs right by the front door and whatever your top speed is at your current size, there's no way you can get there in time. The utility room that runs off the kitchen has a back door that you could sneak out of; the only other alternative is to face the music and whoever it is that is on the other side of the door.

What are you going to do?
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