Stuffed, Part 10

$7/Bronze Directory
$12/Silver Directory
$22/Gold Directory

Story Schedule

Summary: Inspired by Surrogate Stuffing by Jaundis. Lynn is thirty-six. Her eighteen-year-old daughter, Hina, loves to stuff her belly to the brim with food. Determined to mitigate the effects of this bad habit, Lynn casts a spell to make 3/4 of the food that Hina consumes teleport to Lynn’s own belly. But Lynn soon realizes that this was a bad idea, because Hina doesn't stop eating until she feels really stuffed. Contains: Female: stuffing, belly expansion, weight gain, force feeding. Request submitted by Sebastian.

This story is a work of fiction. As specified throughout the story, all characters featured in this work are 18 years of age or older.

Previous Chapter

-

The appointment was disastrous. Lynn fumbled awkwardly under her young patient’s astonished stare.

Lynn also suspected she was a bit stoned. Was Hina smoking?

“I want you to push your heel back against this band three times and then—” Lynn teetered where she stood, one of her hands shooting down to grip her huge paunch.

Humiliatingly enough, the patient stood, wincing on his bad ankle as he hurried to stabilize her. The appointment proceeded like this for the whole hour. Despite Lynn’s efforts and insistence on giving physical therapy to the patient, he ended up spending the whole session helping her.

After he left, Lynn found herself deep in thought. This whole situation was ridiculous. She had failed to provide treatment. If this type of thing went on, she was going to lose her license as a practitioner.

Now seated back at her desk, Lynn drew a deep breath, and resigned herself to actually asking for help. She pulled out her phone and dialed her ex-husband. “John,” she said after he picked up. “I really need to talk to you. Can I come over after work?”

-

A few hours later, Lynn was standing in John’s luxury building, knocking on his apartment door. She still couldn’t believe he had agreed to see her. But when John answered the door, she caught the sense of morbid fascination in his gaze as he stared at her huge belly. He averted his eyes, seeming generally disgusted by the whole situation.

“Can you make this quick?” he said as he turned away, walking back inside.

Yeah right, Lynn thought, rolling her eyes as she waddled into the apartment after him.

John walked behind the kitchen island where he reached into a cupboard to retrieve a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself a drink and gulped it down all while he watched Lynn, before quirking an eyebrow. “So?” he breathed, his attention again drifting to her distended midsection.

Lynn had never seen him like this. At least, not in a while. He seemed genuinely…bothered. And as compelled as she was to exploit it, she couldn’t say she was any more comfortable. “I’m not pregnant,” she told him flatly.

This time John’s eyebrows shot up. There was a long pause, Lynn gripping onto the back of the chair. She knew she must have looked absurd, standing there, the late-term maternity blouse she had on stretching so tightly against her form that some of her skin was peeking out between the buttons.

“Even…if that were true,” said John, now looking at her as though she was insane. He poured himself another drink. “Why would it matter to me? I couldn’t care less about your poor life decisions. We’re divorced. Thank goodness,” he added as an afterthought.

He was being uncharacteristically tempered. He really must have been bothered by her supposed condition.

“I’ve got my scans,” she mentioned, rummaging in her purse until she had unearthed the rumpled hospital paperwork. She felt dizzy from the sheer exertion. She really shouldn’t have been on her feet for so long.

Her legs were going numb, so she just threw the papers towards him. They landed on the counter. John threw them a glance but didn’t appear to read them, his hand still cradling his second alcoholic beverage.

“I’m not buying it,” he said coldly. “Lynn — what the hell do you want from me?”

“I want you to step up and help me with Hina,” said Lynn impatiently, now pulling her phone out her purse. “Dammit, I’ll just call her. She’ll — well, I can prove it to you. It’s such a mess. I’m really not pregnant.”

Looking baffled, John lightly shook his head. “I must be in hell,” he mused aloud, again staring unreservedly at her huge, heaving belly. He was going slower with his second shot of whiskey. Lynn’s breathing was picking up. She distractedly wiped at some sweat on her collar bone.

“Hina, I’m at your dad’s,” Lynn rambled into her phone, her free hand sliding to the underside of her swell. “Can you come over? Yes, now. Yes, really. Just get over here,” she growled before she hung the phone up. She tugged at her shirt collar as she panted. “Do you mind if I sit down?” Lynn didn’t wait for his response as she carefully eased herself down into the chair she had been gripping, though it proved cramped. Lynn groaned as the arms of the chair dug into her flanks.

John grimaced. “What the hell have you done to yourself?” he muttered, in what seemed like a thought escaping his lips before he could stop it. He had been so political up until that moment.

Lynn didn’t have the energy to fight with him.

Her hands were wrapped around whatever parts she could reach of her abdomen. It was neither too soft nor too tight at the moment, yet still entirely uncomfortable, and she quite wished she was in bed. In her seated position, the blouse only pulled harder at her, diamonds of plump flesh bubbling between her straining buttons. Her breasts were tingling, her nipples aching. She really did look and feel pregnant, and to quite an extreme.

It seemed to take forever before the door banged open. In walked Hina, looking dubiously from one parent to the other.

Lynn had begun to notice Hina was putting on weight herself. It seemed she was binging to such an extreme that even all the calories Lynn was taking on wasn’t enough to entirely protect her.

But Hina’s recent weight gain didn’t appear excessive or even unhealthy. The girl simply seemed to have gotten curvier, especially in the chest, hips, and backside.

“What are you wearing?” John snapped.

It was only then that Lynn noticed Hina was wearing only a crop top and a pair of micro shorts. Even so, Lynn didn’t have the energy to complain. Her main focus was on breathing deeply while massaging the massive gurgling belly she had perched heavily against her thighs.

“I was at home,” Hina retorted. “You’re the ones who summoned me,” she added sardonically.

“Hina, it’s time for us to explain to your father what’s going on,” Lynn managed breathlessly.

Hina frowned, looking uncertain.

“It’s important,” Lynn went on wearily. “We need to all work on this together, as a family.” She raised her hands against the arms of her chair, entertaining the idea of getting up. But then she grew exhausted just thinking about it, and changed her mind. Her thighs fidgeted in their awkward squashed position, her sides starting to ache from how hard the chair was squeezing her.

Hina still appeared uneasy. She continued to look back and forth between her parents.

“Well, John, I — I cast a spell,” Lynn said to her ex-husband, hoping he would believe her. “I shouldn’t have, but I did. I just, I just wanted to help Hina. I’ve always been able to do magic, I just—never really used it, well, not often. I know I should have told you years ago, but…”

John was standing there frozen, looking like he might either flee or have her committed. He finished off his second drink before returning his attention to his daughter. “Hina, what the hell is wrong with her?” he demanded in a hushed voice, as though Lynn wasn’t sitting right there. “How long has she been like this?”

“She’s telling the truth,” Hina mumbled, to Lynn’s profound relief. “I didn’t believe her either, but it’s true. She cast some weird spell. She made it so everything I eat— well, goes to her…stomach. And so I’ve been eating more. And I guess…um…” Hina’s cheeks reddened.

Again, John’s response was that of bafflement. “What are you two on?” he said. “This is ridiculous.” He checked his watch, as though to devise an excuse to leave his own home. John looked quite flustered.

“I can show you,” Hina said.

“Hina, no,” Lynn protested, even as she sat there, feeling entirely helpless.

But Hina was hurrying to the kitchen cupboards, opening them up, then looking in the fridge. John gave each woman a disturbed look then considered his bottle of whiskey. Two drinks was usually his cut off.

“This should do it,” said Hina as she joined her father at the counter, her arms loaded with food products.

“Hina,” Lynn pleaded.

“He needs to see it,” Hina retorted, her hands rapidly working, pouring cake mix into a large mixing bowl, adding milk, eggs, cream, a whole bottle of chocolate syrup, several sticks of butter, and other things that just didn’t belong in the simple recipe.

Lynn felt sick just looking at the concoction, her hands desperately rubbing the sides of her orb. She made a dispirited attempt to move, but her body was wedged in her seat. So she sat there, panting.

Hina was keeping busy, now dumping a large container of cream cheese into the evolving cake batter. Next, she poured a box of cookies into it. Why did John even have all this junk in his house?

Probably for Hina, Lynn realized bitterly.

Now Hina was mixing everything together. John looked disgusted, but said nothing. Though when Hina lifted the large mixing bowl and tipped it towards her mouth, he stopped her.

“What are you doing!?” John was appalled.

“You have to trust me,” Hina said. “This is the only way to show you what’s really going on.”

“Hina, stop it,” Lynn groaned.

Hina gave her mother a cold look. “You asked me to come,” she said. “How else did you think we were going to convince him?”

Lynn clearly hadn’t thought this through.

Without another word, Lynn lifted the bowl to her lips and tipped the thick, gunky batter towards her throat.

John covered his mouth looking like he might retch.

Lynn could feel the thick concoction hitting her stomach, dropping heavily inside of her. It was dense. She could already tell. She drew in a long breath of air as she felt herself steadily filling until she could almost taste the greasy batter in the back of her throat. As horrible as it was, on some strange level, she was enjoying it a little. She wondered if she was becoming just as addicted to food as her daughter was.

Lynn panted. She could feel herself getting tighter. She cupped the front of her belly, her face contorting and her feet twisted. She was expanding.

“What’s happening?” John muttered. Lynn could feel his intense gaze.

But she was busy trying to breathe, sweat beading on her temples. She couldn’t believe Hina was doing this to her again. She felt the pressure rising to impossible heights, until she was full to the brim, and there was nowhere left for the pressure to go. She arched her back, groaning as her belly shifted, almost imperceptibly, forward. Getting packed and full. She was really starting to grow.

She grunted as her belly shuddered and visibly inched outward.

Hina was still drinking the batter, the bowl held to her mouth as her throat worked. She was consuming as rapidly as she could, her face flushing from the effort. She had a point to prove and was going all in.

“Most of what I consume goes to her,” Hina gasped in a brief pause from gorging, some of the greasy batter dripping down her chin. “She takes on the calories for me.”

Lynn’s stomach gurgled audibly. She could feel a bubbling sensation inside her, all the while, her belly continuing to tighten. She covered her mouth, feeling like she might be sick. Her heart was pounding, her body was sweaty, and she felt strained enough to pop, yet there was nothing she could do about it. She could hardly get a word out.

John looked somewhere between stunned and aghast. He blinked hard several times, as though certain his eyes were deceiving him.

Hina gulped down batter for several more minutes before finally lowering the bowl. She was breathing heavily and wavering a little where she stood. Intriguingly, her own stomach looked a bit bloated, the small percentage of calories that she took on apparently enough that she was stuffed as well. “Mom chose this,” Hina managed, flinching as her own stomach emitted a whining noise. “I didn’t ask for this, she did it herself. I didn’t even know she was a witch.”

Lynn was actively trying not to pass out, but her vision was blurring around the edges. She was stuffed to the point of pain, her body still absorbing the surplus of calories. Her abdomen felt tight as a drum. She yelped as her belly button abruptly popped outward.

Now both women were looking at John with expectation. He opened and closed his mouth several times.

He raised his pointer finger as though he was about to say something, but then thought better, and lowered it. He opened his mouth again.

Just when Lynn though he might finally produce some feedback, John’s eyes rolled upwards, and he dropped in a dead faint.