FSE

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Beatrice hesitantly approached her mistress’s quarters. Her mistress had never summoned her directly to her chambers without a reason before. Beatrice ran through all her duties in her head, trying to figure out if she had erred in some way. She had prepared the ingredients for today’s meals, she had fed her mistress’s mephitoads, she had tended to the kudzu and the kissing lilies. She can’t think of anything she had done that would be deserving of punishment. Perhaps the tenderlings she used in yesterday’s dinner were not up to the standards of her mistress?

Beatrice paused in front of the door to her mistress’s chamber, then slowly, hesitantly, she pushed the door open.

“Mistress?” Beatrice said, “You called for me?”

“Yes, Beatrice” Gluurp replied, “Come in, sit down.”

As Beatrice entered the room fully, she saw the oggorus sat at the head of a large table, which held a lavish spread of various dishes. Contrary to what Beatrice expected, instead of being at the opposite end of the table, the only other chair at the table was sat right next to her mistress. Beatrice approached the chair, confused. Usually Beatrice was the one who prepared the meals, but she had no hand in making any of the various dishes on the table. Had her mistress cooked them? And she had not seen her mistress touch any of the dishes. Beatrice had always known her mistress to love eating, and her mistress was not one to wait for others to start eating before she did. So why was all the food untouched?

As Beatrice sat down next to Gluurp, she was startled by her mistress draping her arm around Beatrice’s shoulders.

“Beatrice?” said Gluurp, gaining Beatrice’s attention.

“Yes Mistress?” Beatrice responded

“Do you think you’ve been a good girl? Be truthful now, no modesty.” Gluurp asked.

Beatrice paused for a while.

“I think I’ve been a good girl. I’ve served you as best as I can every day, and try my best to fulfill your desires, mistress. Am I a good girl, mistress?” Beatrice replied.

“You are a good girl, Beatrice,” Gluurp confirmed, “And good girls deserve treats, don’t they?”

Beatrice nodded, realization dawning on her. Was all this food…for her?

“Since you’re such a good girl,” Gluurp continued, “pick whatever you’d like to eat.”

Beatrice was touched by her mistress’s generosity. She stood up from her chair and went to survey the dishes on the table, browsing to see what she would like to eat. There was roast chicken, fried ravel, some salads, and all sorts of desserts and treats. Beatrice grabbed some tenderling skewers, some sloach poppers, some slumpkin pie, and some candied pfoff. Beatrice returned to her seat with her plate full, and began eating. Her mistress sat and watched her eat, with a contented look on her face. As Beatrice continued her meal, she began to realize that her eyes were a bit bigger than her stomach. However, it would be rude to waste the food her mistress had so generously prepared for her, so Beatrice forced herself to finish her plate.

“Thank you for the meal, mistress.” Beatrice said. “It was very delicious, and I’m honored that you saw fit to reward me in this way.”

“Oh, you call that a meal? You’ve hardly eaten anything!” Gluurp replied. “Eat your fill, I insist!”

“Mistress, I am full,” Beatrice replied, “I could hardly eat anymore.”

“Nonsense!” Gluurp said, “I’m sure you’re just being modest!”

“Mistress I’m–mpff!”

Gluurp, with one of her arms still around Beatrice’s shoulders, grabbed some fried ravel and shoved it into Beatrice’s mouth. Beatrice, barely avoiding choking, quickly chewed and swallowed it. However, before Beatrice could speak, Gluurp forced some of the salad into Beatrice’s mouth. She could feel the salad squirming, resisting her attempts to swallow it. As Beatrice finally managed to swallow the salad, she could feel her stomach beginning to protest. She truly had been full from her plate earlier, and she could feel her stomach starting to swell. She couldn’t move from her seat, as Gluurp still had a firm arm around her shoulders.

Beatrice had a momentary reprieve, as Gluurp was busy deciding which dish to feed her next.

“Mistress!” Beatrice cried, “Please stop, I’m full, I’m full! Please, my stomach hurts!”

“We’ll be done when I say we’re done. I know you can handle more.” Gluurp replied.

Shocked at the harshness of her mistress’s words, Beatrice began to feebly struggle against Gluurp’s grip on her. Gluurp turned her attention to Beatrice fully, grabbing her arms and pulling them behind the back of the chair. Beatrice was surprised when she felt the texture of rope being tied around her hands. She hadn’t seen any rope when she entered. Gluurp must have hidden it somewhere in preparation for this. The realization that her mistress had been prepared to bind her shocked Beatrice. It means that force-feeding Beatrice was always her mistress’s intention. Then…was this truly meant to be a punishment after all?

Beatrice’s thoughts were interrupted by a slice of cake being forced into her muzzle. However, before she could even begin to swallow, more food joined it in her maw. It seems like Gluurp was getting impatient. Beatrice attempted to chew the food within her mouth, but it seems like she wasn’t eating fast enough for her mistress. Gluurp instead forced open Beatrice’s mouth and shoved the food down her throat.

More and more food was forced into Beatrice’s stomach, and it began to audibly protest, and it expanded larger and larger. Beatrice had given up pleading to her mistress, as it seemed like her words were not getting through to the oggorus. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the pressure in her stomach continued to build. Gluurp noticed her tears, and she leaned down and licked them away.

“Oh, poor dear, is the pressure getting too much?” Gluurp asked, her voice mockingly saccharine. “Come on, we’re hardly even halfway through. Be a good girl and finish your meal.”

Gluurp ran her hands over Beatrice’s swollen stomach, as if to caress and soothe it. Then suddenly, she pressed down hard, making Beatrice moan out in pain.

“Your stomach is already so taut, look how thin the fur is.” Gluurp stated.

Beatrice looked down at her stomach, and true to her mistress’s words, the fur on it was starting to thin, so much so that she could see the reddening skin underneath. Gluurp resumed her feeding of Beatrice, with Beatrice’s stomach continuing to round out. Once there was about only one fourth of the food left on the table, Gluurp had to reposition Beatrice so that she was resting on her overfull stomach. Beatrice’s hands were still bound behind her back, and she was weighed down by her stomach, so there was no risk of her managing to escape.

The groaning of Beatrice’s stomach was near constant now, and the skin of her belly was an angry red. Gluurp forced some roast chicken and some sweets into Beatrice’s mouth, still steadily working her way through the feast on the table. Beatrice moaned as she swallowed the food. The pressure in her stomach was becoming almost unbearable.

“Pluh–Please mistress…”Beatrice begged,” I don-I don’t think I can take anymore…”

“We’re almost done, dear. I even saved the best for last.” Gluurp replied.

The oggorus then moved to show what she meant to Beatrice. Gluurp held up a truly massive multi-tiered cake. Tears began to stream down Beatrice’s face at the thought of being forced to consume that. The pressure in her stomach was already immense, there’s no way she would survive. Despite the protests of both Beatrice and her stomach, Gluurp began feeding Beatrice the cake. Beatrice could feel her already taut stomach swell a bit more with each piece of cake, the pressure building along with it. And finally, after one piece too many, the pressure became too much for her stomach to handle.

Beatrice’s stomach split open with a loud, wet, pop, her entrails and organs spilling out onto the floor below, along with the food that had previously resided in her stomach. As Beatrice lay on the floor, bleeding, she could hear her mistress rummaging around for something. Just before Beatrice’s life slipped away fully, Gluurp found her disposable spell, and used its magic to heal Beatrice. Her organs and entrails slither their way back into her body, her blood following it. The flesh of her stomach knits itself back together around the newly replaced organs. Beatrice is exhausted, and can’t bring herself to move from her position on the floor.

With surprising tenderness, given what she had just put Beatrice through, Gluurp scooped up Beatrice, carrying her bridal style to Gluurp’s own chaise. She laid her servant down gently, and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of Beatrice’s muzzle.

“You were a very good girl today. You did a very good job. Your mistress just wanted to have a bit of fun, so she decided to be a bit cruel to you today. You performed wonderfully, exactly how I wanted.” Gluurp praised her softly, while stroking the top of Beatrice’s head.

Beatrice smiled despite her exhaustion. So she wasn’t being punished, that was good. It meant she was still useful to her mistress, still her favorite. Content with this knowledge, Beatrice drifted off to sleep, her body still aching, but happy that she could please her mistress.