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DINING IN THE LYLAT SYSTEM

Episode 4: TURGID ESPIONAGE ACTION (PART 2)

Written by: ARTHUR C. SNARK

* * * * *

"Feeder's log, addendum. Krystal and I were at the University of Corneria to visit Lucy Hare. To make a long story short, Lucy and I ended up tied and bound at Leon Powalski's mercy. I didn't know where Krystal was, but I feared the worst."

* * * * *

On the sixth floor of the Phoenix Center for the Sciences, Krystal sat trapped in Dr. Lucy Hare's office. A black cord wrapped around her midsection and bound her to the chair. She wore a white skirt and a black top, but her top had rolled up, exposing her stomach. An elephant named Maisie had tied her there. Krystal hadn't seen what Maisie did with Fox, but she feared the worst.

Krystal's eyes scanned the room. It was lit only by the moon shining outside the window. There must be something she could use to escape. The desk before her was empty, save for a mason jar and some scraps of paper. Behind her was a bookshelf lined with books. Aside from that, the room was pretty sparse.

Outside the window, Krystal saw the moonlit Saturday night sky and a barren, green-hilled campus. She was up on the sixth floor, with a pretty good view.

While calculating her options, Krystal's eyes rested on the desk, drawn to the mason jar. It was full of purple liquid and had a straw in it. Masking tape was slapped onto its side with "SWELL" written in marker.

SWELL... she knew what that was. That was the stomach-expanding formula Lucy had been testing. It allowed her to eat without end by stretching her stomach. Krystal recalled one story Lucy had shared: in an experiment, someone had taken more than they should have. Their stomach ballooned quickly on its own, without any food. Enough to rip a shirt, if she remembered right. Could that kind of force snap her cords?

Lucy wasn't there to answer, so there was only one way to find out.

Krystal pulled herself and the chair towards the desk with her feet and spun her side to the desk. Her bindings prevented her from bending over, but she could just barely arch her neck far enough to seal her lips around the jar's straw. She sucked, gulping down half of the jar. It had a bland, almost watery, taste, with sugary hints. Hopefully this was more than the prescribed dosage, and hopefully her stomach would blimp up and snap her restraints.

Shortly, she felt a pressure in her gut. She felt full, but not heavy. A strange force pushed on the walls of her insides. The word "balloon" entered her awareness.

The pressure mounted, and looking down, she could see its effects. Her stomach grew further outward, rolling above and below the cord. Her belly groaned and the cord creaked.

Her stomach expanded, claiming more inches of her lap. It advanced sideways as well, widening her waist. Krystal sweat. The bite of the cord worsened as her stomach inflated. She endured the pain as each second stretched into hours. The cord whined, but it showed no signs of snapping. Krystal began to regret this plan. She bit her lip, trying to distract herself from the pain in her middle.

Finally, she felt ready to scream--but instead, a belch erupted from between her lips. It was loud and dry, almost a violent gaseousness. Suddenly, the cord wasn't piercing her any more. She looked down, and the cord had fallen onto her lap. Her stomach had deflated to its normal size. However, in the process of inflating, it had pushed the cord hard enough to stretch it. She noted the way the cord now frayed. She breathed a deep sigh of relief.

Krystal leaned forward and freed her arms, then threw the cord over her head and to the floor. It was time to find Fox and Lucy.

Carefully, she opened the door and looked into the hallway. Its white tile floors and off-white walls were bright under the sterile ceiling lights. Down the hall, she spotted one beaver guard walking away from her. Krystal stepped as lightly as she could over to the closed elevator doors. Unbeknownst to her, her belly took to swelling again ever so slightly.

Krystal thought. Maisie said they would take Fox to the basement, right? So, she pressed the down button. But nothing happened; nothing lit up, and there was no sound. Her waist brushed against her elbows, and her stomach expanded below her view.

Krystal spotted a card reader next to the elevator. Did she need a key card to use the elevator? Her gut interrupted her thought process; it expelled its pressure through a burp, then deflated.

Immediately, her fur stood on end. She hadn't been paying attention, and now she'd drawn attention to herself with a careless burp. Krystal scrambled into the nearby stairwell and softly shut the door behind her. She looked down to find a belly growing ever more round, inflating once again. Would it ever stop?

Meanwhile, the beaver guard had heard the burp, and he spotted Lucy's now-empty office. He spoke into a hand radio. "Luke here. Secretary Krystal has escaped. I'm searching the floor."

* * * * *

Maisie's calm but stern voice came over the radio. "Everyone else, seal off the stairs. Make sure she doesn't move to another floor. Do NOT damage her."

Starting from the sixth floor, Krystal had dashed as far down as the fourth floor when the fifth floor's stairwell door opened above her. By this time, holding in her gas, her stomach had grown into a giant white-furred dome hanging down against her thighs. She couldn't stay in the stairwell. She'd be spotted in a moment. So, she opened the door to the fourth floor and stepped forward.

The right side of her stomach brushed against the doorway. And the left side of her stomach brushed against the doorway. She was, in fact, stuck; her giant gut plugged the doorway. Its taut surface bloomed and swallowed the doorframe.

Krystal gripped both sides of the doorway with her hands, pulling forward as hard as she could. The guard above her would be on top of her any second. If she burped, it would give away her position, but she would deflate and fit through the doorway. What to do?

On the fourth floor, down the hall from Krystal, an armadillo guard came running. He was stunned to find a blimp come-to-life insead of a vixen. At that moment, Krystal finally popped her gut free and hurtled right into the armadillo. The door shut behind her, and she landed--no, belly-flopped--on top of the guard.

Krystal used her gaseous girth to pin him to the ground. "Where's Lucy Hare?" she said, her voice laced with strain as she held in a burp. Her hands were palm-down beside his head, and her knees touched the ground near the underside of her gut. Her naked belly pinned him. She could feel the coarse texture of his shirt, and his belt buckle poked into her.

The guard grunted and struggled under Krystal. He kicked his knees up into her, digging into her taut, stretched stomach, but all that did was wobble her up and down. He tried to press against the ground to lean up, but the wide spread of her distended flesh smothered his chest and kept him down. She remained planted on top of him.

"I'm not getting any smaller," she said. "How long can you breathe?"

"I don't know where Miss Hare is," he said, grunting and gasping for air.

"Fine. Can you give me a key card to the elevator?" Her belly now pushed against her limbs. She could feel her stretched hide bulge around her arms and thighs.

"Mine won't work. Most of us don't--oof--have the right key card." His words were slow and pained, and he couldn't free his arms from between her growing gut and the floor. "You'll need to find my boss." Given her size, she was light, since she was bloated with gas rather than fat. Her enormous size alone overwhelmed him, pinned down onto him by her body's 230-something space pounds.

"How?" Krystal's stomach encroached upon the guard's neck, pushing her breasts up towards her face. She couldn't see down past them to make eye contact.

"Our radios have positioning systems on them. My boss is the yellow dot." Her stomach billowed under her legs and overtook his knees. Her own knees were slipping, losing ground to her belly.

"Very good. One last item. What is going on here?" Her knees could no longer touch the ground. Her underbelly swelled under her them and propped them up. She put her toes on the ground to keep her balance. Her stomach felt like an air mattress, only cushioned with a layer of fur and a layer of fat.

"Our client paid off the campus security and put us in their place. We've scrapped the video records, and we'll replace them with last night's, so there won't be any record of this." Krystal's stomach shoved his face upward, and his chin fought with it to enunciate his speech. Her belly pressed harder on his neck. "As for why he wants Lucy, he wouldn't tell us."

"Good enough," Krystal said. She finally released her gas in a belch that overwhelmed the guard, a hurricane of air that rushed into his face and flapped his cheeks. All the while, her stomach shrank under her, letting her knees meet the floor again. When she finished, he was dazed, and she slugged him across the face, rendering him unconscious. She stayed on all fours over the armadillo's body, panting and composing herself. Again, her belly had returned to its normal flabby size.

She picked up his key card and checked; indeed, it didn't open the elevator. So, she scooped up his radio as well. It was only a matter of time before the guards would check this floor, so she had to escape downward somehow. She looked around and spotted a door on the inner wall labelled "SERVICE ENTRANCE." She opened it. Inside was a vertical shaft that extended up and down, lined with pipes, lit by bulbs every few feet. On the wall opposite the door, within arm's reach, was a series of protruding footholds that formed a ladder. She took hold, and the door closed behind her.

She read the radio's visual display. It currently displayed the fourth floor. She thumbed through until she found the yellow dot, which was on the second floor. Krystal climbed downard.

Pressure again grew within her burgeoning belly, stretching it. At first, the very top of her legs brushed her rubbery stomach from underneath while she shifted each foot down the ladder in turn. Slowly, her stomach covered more and more of her thighs, and her legs had more and more stomach volume to displace. Its sideways growth impacted her arms as well; her elbow nudged her belly from the side when she moved her arm down to grip a new rung.

The result was a bouncy belly constantly being compressed. Her right foot would move down the ladder, so her left foot would stay in place, and her left thigh would bump her belly rightward. But she would move her right arm down at the same time, digging her elbow into the rubbery midsection that she had just shifted to her right. Once her right foot and hand were sure on the ladder, she'd move her left foot down, and her gut would slide leftward until her left elbow pinned it. All the while, it expanded. Her legs had more to push, and her elbows pressed deeper into it.

Eventually, it filled enough that it met the rungs. As she moved down, her stomach would plop from one rung to the next. It was pretty annoying, and it threatened her balance. She enjoyed a long, relaxing belch to deflate it.

Just above the entrance to the second floor, she noticed a panel labelled "VENTILATION." Krystal pondered if she could use this for a stealthy approach. The panel opened on a hinge. She stepped over to a foothold under the panel and crawled inside. It was a few feet tall and just as wide. She thanked her luck that it accommodated her size.

She crawled through and watched the display on her radio. While she approached the yellow dot, her stomach went about its ceaseless bloating. It rounded out wider and hung lower against her legs. Within feet of the dot, it began to scrape against the ductwork. She crawled onward, but the growing friction between her fur and the passage slowed her. Soon, her stomach pressed flat against the bottom of the passage. Krystal just wanted to burp and shed her waistline, but she was too close. Something like that would give away her position and her advantage. So, she marshalled her discipline and kept moving.

Each step was short. She sunk one knee into her stomach from behind, pushing it as hard as she could. Its pillowy yield made it hard to shove along. Then, she dragged it forward with one arm. Each centimeter of newly expanded flesh created more pressure against the duct, resisting her more. This challenged her bicep's strength and endurance. Then, she would do the same with her other leg and arm.

Laboriously, she dragged her bulk along. Meanwhile, it hadn't stopped. By this point, it pressed not only against the bottom of the duct, but also along its sides. She shivered as more and more of her pressed against the cold steel of the duct. Or rather, there was more of her to press against it.

Maisie, the chub buff elephant, searched the second floor. That blue vixen couldn't have gotten far. Then, looking at her radio, she noticed something strange: the green dot for the fourth floor guard was now on the second floor, and apparently right next to her. She heard a crunching and tearing of foil. She looked left, right, then up. Above her, white and blue fur seeped between two segments of ductwork.

She had no time to consider the absurd sight before the inevitable happened: forced open by Krystal's inflating belly, the two pieces of the ventilation duct separated. After that, her weight bent the ducting downward, plopping her out of the opening right onto Maisie. Gravity hurled Krystal's mass onto Maisie with such force that she was slammed to the floor. Instantly, Krystal belched ferociously, releasing the gas that stretched her gut. What a relief!

Krystal got to her feet, but Maisie remained on the ground, eyes sealed shut. Krystal knelt down and pilfered Maisie's key card. Maisie still breathed, she was just forcefully pacified.

Now, Krystal had everything she needed.

* * * * *

In a dusty, concrete room, Fox was strapped into a chair. He watched helplessly as Leon Powalski stood over Lucy Hare, who herself was strapped into a chair by the arms and legs. A feeding tube was strapped to her face, attached to a nearby canister of white fluid.

She was a poor fit for the straps, which pressed into the fat of her forearms and calves. And she was a poor fit for the chair; thigh fat aplenty gushed under the chair's arms, and her butt sagged out its back. But, most of all, her stomach didn't fit. It rolled up and over her arms and surged past her knees. Before, her belly filled her lap. Leon had forced enough food into her stomach to double, maybe triple its size. The feeding tube forced a torrent of food into her gullet, shaking her chin. Her chair creaked.

Fox shouted. "Stop it already! Obviously she has no clue what you're talking about."

Leon turned to Fox while Lucy's feeding continued. "Quiet, boy," Leon said. "I admire your skills as a fighter pilot. Now it is time for you to admire my skills in torture. For instance, I'll have you know that her heart rate is consistent with stress, but not pain. Quite remarkable given the volume of fodder she has ingested."

The legs of Lucy's chair failed under her. Each one uttered a loud crack simultaneously, snapping at their middle and falling flat to the floor. The motion of the snap, combined with Lucy's leg restraints, pulled her legs under her into kneeling position. Her wide rump plopped to the floor, followed by a sloshing belly that swallowed her lap and overflowed to the ground. With the force of the fall, her engorged stomach gushed into the chair's arms, snapping them off and pushing her arms out. She was now a heaping mountain of overfed hare.

Leon looked back to Lucy. "Quite remarkable," he repeated, stroking his chin.

* * * * *

Krystal took Maisie's key card to the elevator. She held in her gas again. If it weren't for her dire situation, she might take a certain hedonistic pleasure in her stomach's relentless expansion. By the time she made to the elevator, it was twice as wide as her hips and drooped halfway down her calves. It bounced against her stride, making it hard to keep her balance. She gripped it with both hands in an attempt to keep it steady.

She was still able to enter the elevator comfortably, since it was designed to fit several people at once. What gave her trouble, though, was reaching over her stomach and pressing the button for the basement. As she leaned forward, her belly obscured the button marked "B". She leaned harder, hoping to reach it with her hand. Instead, her gut pressed the button for her. The doors closed.

In the basement, Leon stood with his back to the elevator. Fox looked above him and noticed that the lights above the elevator doors were activated. First 2, then 1. Someone was coming down in the elevator.

Meanwhile, Krystal had squished her fat rear against the back of the elevator. Her stomach flesh expanded at a dizzying pace, now resting on the floor and coming within inches of each wall. Her skin uttered a rubbery groan as gas bulged within her. Her arms laid upon her inflated midsection, floating on a sea of fur. By now, her stomach was too wide to reach over. When the elevator clunked to a stop on the basement floor, she had no give between her sides and the walls of the elevator. She was stuffed in it.

As the elevator doors behind Leon parted, Krystal's inflating gut billowed through their opening. Fox was stunned. The image was so strange: Krystal had grown from a voluptuous vixen to a humongous ball. A monumental sphere. He could not fathom the scope of Krystal's stomach.

Leon spun around when he heard the elevator doors, but it was too late. Gas rushed forth from Krystal's stomach through her esophagus and out her throat. As it blasted past her pharynx, a roaring sound rang from her mouth, which mounted and became an almighty, continual thunderclap: the mother of all belches.

The power of Krystal's belch rocked Leon, knocking him off of his feet. He had never met such force before. From a burp, no less.

Leon landed on his back next to Lucy. She couldn't get up onto her feet. So, she rocked forward on her knees, pushing her stomach forward and rolling it over him. She body-slammed the full heft of her gut across Leon's body, forcing a grunt of pain from him. The entire weight of his force-feeding was now thrust onto him. Then, she ripped off the feeding tube off her chubby face and threw it aside. It sputtered its contents on the floor. She panted and expelled a burp of relief.

Fox's chair had been thrown to the ground by the burp blast, now laying on its back. Krystal had deflated yet again. She rushed to his side and unbuckled his restraints. "Fox..." she started, and they locked eyes. He propped himself up on one arm, wrapped the other around her back, and kissed her passionately. She burped mid-kiss and backed out of it, blushing.

Fox chuckled and licked his lips. "You're amazing," he said to Krystal as he got to his feet. "What a rescue!"

Lucy chimed in. "You have no idea how grateful I am."

Leon uttered in a strained voice, "Meddlesome pest!"

Krystal moved on to remove Lucy's straps, which still clung to her flabby limbs despite her chair's demolition. "We aren't home free yet," Krystal said. She reached into her cleavage and produced the guard's hand radio, then showed Fox and Lucy the display. "These guards are looking for me."

Leon groaned from underneath Lucy. "I'm their client. Once they realize the operation has gone awry, they'll want me dead to ensure that no harm comes to their reputation. They will probably want your lives as well, just for good measure."

Fox grinned and punched his open palm. "Good," he said, "I've been itching for a scrap."

* * * * *

"Feeder's log, starweight 234.01. By the time the Cornerian police arrived, I had Maisie's gang all tied up with a pretty bow. As for Leon Powalski, the Office of Cornerian Intelligence came to haul him away. Krystal told us about her adventures in inflation, and even Lucy was surprised. Krystal was a little gassy the rest of the night, but her stomach seemed mostly settled by the end of it.

"Apparently Lucy was on some kind of supplement to help her overeat, which explained her ability to guzzle everything Leon forced on her. She said her bloating would go down in a few weeks.

"Lucy was unhappy when I asked about running the Great Fox's diagnostics. Krystal was, too, come to think of it. If it was me, I would've welcomed a distraction from the tying up and force-feeding I had just been through. But anyway, we killed a week on Corneria. Krystal spent the time filling out boring foreign affair forms for her job, and I went skeet shooting with Falco.

"After that week, Lucy felt up to running diagnostics on the Great Fox. Once that was done, she handed me a jar of purple stuff. She explained it was the expansion formula she was using to put on weight. As I recall, she put the jar in my hand, then said..."

"Fox, Krystal is important to me. And I still consider you a friend. So, I want you to have this. Just promise me you won't go too crazy with it, alright?"