The Rendering Pit - Chapter 20 (Patreon)

 This chapter has been written and illustrated by me, as we continue to explore a little more of the daily life of Genevieve the vixen, as she rises to meet the challenges set by her professors, and new appointment as Junior Lunch Lady. In this chapter, she's set upon by feelings of doubt and shame, when an unexpected voice of reason calls out to her.

 - - - 

 

Genevieve grimaced, the springs of her mattress groaning as she rocked her swollen body, trying to push the bloated hill of lard she called her stomach so that she could roll onto her side. Gravity did most of the work for her once she got enough of herself moving, but as she lay on her side scratching an itch on one of her love handles, the vixen couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Samuel had felt during his final, swelling weeks as a student. Now that she was the junior lunch lady and faced with temptation on a daily basis, her stomach was swelling inches at a time, and the parallels between her and the badger who she’d lived with were becoming stronger. Samuel had always been a big badger, bigger than she was when she’d started school, but after he sort of fell in with the drone crowd, Genevieve remembered there was hardly a moment where he wasn’t dipping his chubby fingers into a basket of treats or being fed affectionately by the purple skinned mouse drone. He’d had trouble moving long before he was eventually relocated to The Depths, and whilst he was rocking on his bed and panting, trying to sit up, Genevieve would watch, satisfied in the knowledge that would never be her.

And yet here she was, pulling herself up to a sitting position and watching with equal parts dismay and hunger as her stomach pushed her legs apart, the great doughy mass rolling all the way down to her knees. She couldn’t help but stare at herself for a moment, her swollen digits attached to chubby hands on the end of wobbling, fat swaddled arms. Sure, her breasts had grown, perhaps in an attempt to distract from her growing double chin which was a worrying thing on a vulpine face, but nothing had swollen nearly so much as her stomach, which seemed as though it were increasingly dominating her day to day life. From the moment she got out of bed, it was a weight on her and the fact that its constant grumbles and hunger pains demanded increasing amounts of food even outside of her working hours was only added stress. It was bad enough that her work demanded she act as food waste disposal for the school, let alone that she should be so hungry during regular hours as well. 

Nathan was there too, tastefully deciding not to make mention of the fact that his roommate’s stomach had decided to defy the constraints of her shirt, which rode up to beneath her breasts. Not that he had too much room to talk, the lizard-like student had begun to blimp up with fat, all on his own and, if Genevieve didn’t know better, some of the treats he was eating were the same ones that Samuel had eaten before he started his transformation. She almost said something, but how could she? She certainly wasn’t in a position to judge.

“How are you this morning?” It was as good a question as any. Nathan, for his part, seemed like he was enjoying breakfast on the study table, likely one of the bee’s had brought it for him, as there seemed to be a package of cookies and a milkshake set aside for her, too. 

“Augh, busy.” Nathan mumbled, looking up from the tablet he was working. “But things are going okay. How’s uh...” 

Genevieve slide slowly from her bed, her body felt like molasses as her stomach was gripped by gravity and pulled down towards the floor. “Lunch Ladying? It’s not so bad, now that the pig is back. Partial shifts means there’s less clean-up.” It occurred to her that Nathan might not really understand what ‘clean up’ meant, but she didn’t have it in her to explain it at the moment, and she wasn’t sure she could justify how much time she spent on all fours eating from a trough anyway. She had trouble justifying it to herself, talking another person through it would only make her doubt her sanity. “Where’s Rigel?”

Nathan blinked and looked up at the scarlet lizard’s empty bunk, there was a small trail of blue liquid that stained the sheets and had trickled down the wall and onto the floor. “Juicing, if I had to guess.” 

“I’ll catch him one of these mornings,” Genevieve promised half-heartedly as she sat down on a creaking, reinforced stool. She pulled her own tablet across the table, wiping the sleep from her eyes as she got ready to start the day.

- - -

Genevieve had become used to the buzzing that filled her mind a long time ago, these days, she couldn’t remember how it was to ever have been without the signals that her little robotic children provided her, day in, day out. Her hive had grown, with multiple bees able to give her another perspective on any scene she bid they observe, and two larger bee-like drones which, as well as being passable company, had a helpful habit of bringing her food when they felt her stomach rumbling. When the cafeteria was quiet and there weren’t that many students to serve, Genevieve would lean against the wall of her workspace, surrounded by counters filled with various foods, and listen to the gentle chatter of the bees. It was during one such moment, that Genevieve found herself approached by another.

“Now what’s got a pretty girl like you, looking so bored?” The jackal asked, leaning on one of the counters. Genevieve blushed. She had watched her approach through the lenses of several of her bees, but she hadn’t anticipated a conversation. Female, slender, good looking, the jackal had Sigma Prospero written all over her, and though the group were nice enough, they didn’t tend to talk to her unless they wanted something from her.

Though a list of possible answers ran through her mind, the words she found coming out of her mouth were unexpectedly hostile, “What do you want?” It was the same phrase she’d asked most students who’d come through here, although most of those were seeking a meal.

Instead of a raised eyebrow though, or a sneer, or thinly veiled threat, or any of the dozens of other things she might have expected a Prospero student to do, the jackal just laughed. “Well your name would be a start, here, I’ll start with mine. I’m Tiffany.” She held out a single, delicate hand, with gold painted, trimmed claws. Genevieve felt almost sad taking it with her own greasy, chubby fingers. 

“I’m uh, I’m Genevieve.” She wasn’t used to giving out her name, nor being known as anything but the Junior Lunch lady, at least not whilst she was standing behind the counter at the cafeteria, her apron straining around her middle. 

“See? That wasn’t so hard, it’s a pleasure to meet you Genevieve. Can I call you Gene? And you never did answer my question, is working here really so bad?” Tiffany almost seemed to exude a kind of energetic enthusiasm, it was hard not to feel at least a little perked up. 

“I guess not.” Genevieve replied, hefting herself off the wall and waddling across to the counter that Tiffany was standing at. She blushed as she felt her stomach brush up against it, and then rest firmly on the counter’s top, far sooner than it should have. “But it does come with its... downsides.” The vixen did everything but motion to her stomach, that singular point of growing distress in her ballooning life.

“Mind if I ask what those are?” Tiffany pressed with interest, her eyes roaming over the vixen’s body, a smile curling at her lips. 

Genevieve wasn’t sure if she was ready to go into it. She could describe the trough, and the desire to gorge after every shift, but once again she felt as though she could hardly justify her actions to herself, let alone anyone else. “I guess... you’re just around food a lot, you know? You’re tempted.” She settled on this, it was close enough to the truth that it wasn’t exactly a lie.

“I don’t see how that’s a bad thing, a girl’s gotta let loose every now and then.” Genevieve squinted, and Tiffany continued, “no it’s true. Nobody lives forever right? Why waste time stressing about what you eat, or how much?”

“I guess that makes sense.” Genevieve had started to wonder if Tiffany really was a part of Sigma Prospero. She found herself blushing again as her stomach growled, she’d been having to deal with the saliva-inducing smell of meatloaf for the past half hour and it was killing her. Tiffany grinned.

“Sure it does! And on that note, I’ll take two serves of... the meatloaf! One for me, one for you, how’s that sound?” 

“I’m not supposed to order meals when I’m on my shift-“ 

“That’s why I’m doing the ordering!” Tiffany replied with a grin. “You just eat up.” 

Genevieve blushed again, but nodded. It didn’t really sound like it was against the rules, and she wasn’t even very sure if there were any rules, beyond make sure the students didn’t go hungry. Surely, she was allowed to indulge herself a little on the side. She carved up two huge servings of meatloaf and gravy, knowing it wouldn’t be her last.

- - -

She could feel her body stretching, her entire stomach having become nothing but the bloated wrapping for the impossible amount of food she was cramming into it. She could hear her hide groan and creak, and she knew it was only thanks to the nanites that the trough had been laced with, that her poor body hadn’t ruptured already. Somewhere in the darker corners of her mind, she wondered if there was a limit she could pass, that even the nanites couldn’t bring her back from. She didn’t care. Her snout was buried so deep in that wonderful, intoxicating miasma of foods that the future was the last thing on her mind. 

Genevieve was back in the grotto beneath the cafeteria, where the fabrication machines and the ovens worked overtime to keep the air humid and sweaty, and where the scraps from a day’s worth of meals were channelled through pipes, into the trough where she had her snout buried. She had tried to avoid gorging herself, tried to convince herself to walk away from the sludge of foodstuffs, but today, another voice had joined the argument in her head. 

“A girl’s gotta let loose. Why waste time stressing about what you eat, or how much? Nobody lives forever.” 

She could see Tiffany in the back of her mind, if she cared to focus. The jackal’s appraising eye, as it roamed over her slowly ballooning stomach, which had long since forced her to roll gently onto her side. She could imagine eating for the jackal, ballooning herself, destroying herself for the other girl’s approval. And why not? What was she keeping her body in shape for, when being out of shape tasted so very good. When stuffing herself until she couldn’t move, until she could barely breath felt so good. Whose approval did she have to meet? Her parents? They wouldn’t see her for another three years, at least, and they certainly hadn’t done any favours for her. Genevieve was in this by herself, so she would be in it for herself.

To the muffled sound of a gag, a half finished hotdog started travelling up her throat, instead of down it, like the rest of her food had. Blushing and grunting, the vixen realised she might have overdone it. Her stomach stretched out before her, a massive sack, grumbling and gurgling, full of soon-to-be digesting food. She realised she could no longer wrap her arms around it, and when it digested, she might never be able to. The thought of it, the delightful idea of her own growth, her expansion, sent a blush across her cheeks and an electric tingle between her legs. She’d turned into such a pig. 

She moaned, her hands caressing the sides of that huge mound of a gut, it was so hard. There was enough give to sink in barely a knuckle or so. A creeping, sudden weariness began to wash over her as the euphoria of eating gave way to exhaustion. She’d stretched herself so big, and for what? For who? Questions muddied her thoughts, along with a strange sense of pride and... excitement. The vixen pulled a pillow from nearby, the Lunch Lady seemed to have left it there to be used after all, and gently rested her head on it. She could think about the consequences for her actions later. For now, it was time to rest. Slowly, lazily, her tail curled behind her, as the fox drifted away into a well earned food coma.