Maple's Story Part 12 (Patreon)

Part 12:

Maple shoved the hose into her mouth, pulling it in just like she had in her shower, not so long ego. She felt it slide down her throat and start to coil in her yearning, cavernous stomach. Her excitement, anticipation, the veil of lust and need that had fallen across her mind, all dulled the grimey metallic taste of the tubing.

The machine paused as though it were considering the implications of her command. For a moment Maple thought it might refuse, her cheeks coloured. Maybe this was a mistake. The eight or so servings already in her stomach sat like lead, did she really need any more? Or even worse, would the machine send a ping to a security officer to verify the order? She shuddered at the thought of someone looking down at a screen right now and seeing her heaving, bloated, panting body, hose sticking out of her mouth and need in her eyes. The huge vixen was about to pull the hose out of her mouth when the machine finally jumped and began to dispense.

All thought of anything but the anticipation of that thick, heavy, creamy paste was lost. Maple felt it through the hose, she fancied she could almost track where the cream was as it flowed through the smooth metallic tubing. As a new sheen of sweat began to shimmer across her now exposed fur, she felt the gunk start to enter her stomach. At first she thought she’d been punched. She could feel the walls of her stomach as they squeezed in against the heavy, leaden slop. The weight of it was staggering, and in only moments the amount within her must have tripled, quadrupled, more and more of the disgusting paste pushing inside her. She could see the mound of her gut as it began to bloat, the familiar sensation of being full creeping across her stretching, elastic hide. Wet, creaking, tearing noises once more reached her ears as under the growing tidal wave of blubber her expensive smart-fabric suit started to give up. The rush was intense, Maple’s cheeks flushing as she felt her stomach creeping along the ground, her huge body pushing her away from the wall until she had to scooch over just to remain upright.

Once more, Maple found she had a new appreciation for her weight. She could hear the metal plates beneath her groaning with distress. She could feel every pound dragging on her body, pushing her down and pooling her out. With a startled squeak, Maple realised that her ass cheeks now rested on the floor behind her, and that the fat of her cankles was now so thick it all but swallowed her feet. For a moment, panic gripped her as she wondered how she’d ever haul her bloated body far enough to finalize the delivery with Dr Lalique, but the thought was pushed away almost instantly by the heavy pumping of goop as it filled and stretched the tortured organ that was her stomach. She squirmed with delight, drool trickling either side of the hose in her mouth as, moaning, Maple’s chubby digits explored the new mass her body was creating. It was something out of science fiction, something she’d never thought she’d ever see. She relished it. Seeing her body grow, hearing the suit as it tore, feeling herself spread like warm pudding across the ground, and above everything, feeling the incredible tension of expansion, as though even her skin itself were approaching the limits of its elasticity.

Her neck had become an expanding, tire shaped ring of blubber that obscured Maple’s vision. It had long since swallowed her chins, now pushing against her jaw so that without expending more effort than she wanted to, her face was being tilted towards the ceiling. Although she could see little past her fluffy cheeks, and where her breasts sat like growing bean bags atop the swelling mountain of her stomach, Maple could feel her arms pushing gently outwards. She felt the fat of her shoulders tighten into ballooning rolls, and with an experimental wiggle deduced that she had all but lost mobility of anything from her elbow up. Her forearms rested upon the only thing they could, her love handles, and even they felt as though soon they would be sucked up by the rest of her elephantine body. Behind her she could feel her ass cheeks spreading out, they maintained a lot of their puffy, round, cottage cheese shape, but they were a lot bigger than they had been before. It felt as though she were sitting down, even as she stood there, making the mound of steadily growing fat that used to be a vixen start to shudder once more with pleasure. Her thighs, she found, were lost beneath the weight of her. Perhaps visible on the sides, if barely, she felt them sandwiched (rather like herself) between the twin weights of her stomach and her ass. They rubbed together, the fur between them slick with her own lust. With every pump she felt as though she could just burst. Growing like this was a rollercoaster, it was a drug, and she never wanted it to stop.

As always, Maple’s stomach was her crowning glory. The testament to every gluttonous urge she had succumbed to. Stationed now in the middle of the hallway, she could feel it press against both walls beside her, stretch out in front, and swell towards the roof. With a giddy little shiver she wondered if she’d actually get so big she’d clog the whole walkway up. Would she be so fat they’d have to program the loading drones to come get her? To slowly unwedge her from the laboratories that she’d become wedged in?

The idea of someone coming across the expanding wall of blubber that she was steadily becoming was enough in itself to push her to the release she so desperately sought. The vixen came, her body shaking orgasm coupled with a loud moan that bordered on a scream - not that she cared. She couldn’t care. All she cared about was the pleasure that was washing through her body, burning through every nerve like fire. For a brief, euphoric moment, she felt as though she was light as air.

And then the weight returned to her. Everything did. She felt once more the tightness of her gut. She felt the weight of her massive chest and stomach bearing down on her, lungs compressed under the sheer bulk of own mass. Her breath came in short, grateful bursts, gasping around the hose. With a jolt to her rippling, jiggling frame, Maple realised just how big she was. Instantly her cheeks reddened further. Her fantasy of blocking up the hallway was soon becoming a reality. How much had she eaten?! She could feel her own saliva as it trickled down the growing tire of blubber of her neck, the taste of the hose still on her tongue as it pumped more into her.

The hose!

With a feeble moan, Maple lifted her arms to pull the hose out. She didn’t care if it slopped nutrient paste all over her, if she ate much more she felt like she’d burst. She managed to lift the mass of her arm a few inches off of her ballooning love handles before the sheer weight of her blubber dragged her arm back down to her stomach. A completely new sheen of sweat appeared on her forehead.

Maple’s expensive smart-suit was now completely destroyed. It lay in a defeated puddle on the ground somewhere beneath her. She knew not even the nanos it was made of would be able to completely repair the damage - like her, it was now a useless mockery of its former self. With an annoyed little grunt, Maple tried once more to lift her hands high enough to pull the tube out of her throat, her jaw pushing down on the ring of flab beneath it so they didn’t have to get so high. After the third or fourth attempt Maple was almost surprised to feel the cool metal of the hose beneath her paws. Her fingers scrunched together, even at their tightest it felt like her grip was feeble, but it was enough and with an upset gagging, the metal piping began to slide out of her mouth, spewing up goop as it did. After a few moments of tugging (Maple felt like she’d be sick after the first lurching pull) the hose finally slipped out of her mouth. It spewed a few droplets of nutrient paste before, with a distressing ‘ding’, the dispensing machine told her that all one hundred servings of paste had been dispensed.

She felt like she was going to be sick.