Special Promotion - Part 17 (Patreon)

edit: worth noting actually! Diane was brainstormed with the wonderful and talented VictorTheMaker who helped design her appearance and personality

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Wait..

“What?!”

The words burst unbidden from Jenny’s lips, erupting while a thousand disparate thoughts tumbled around her mind. Was this Diane? Had someone replaced the short rabbit? Was it a gag? A joke?

Was she actually into this?

The thought lingered, a bright burning flame. Still, Jenny doubted. Here she was, gift wrapped, everything Diane could have ever wanted from her. Her total humiliation complete at the click of a camera phone. Instead the rabbit had stepped back, her foot now off of Jenny’s giant boulder of a stomach as she looked around. Her eyes zeroed in on a box of donuts, thus far untouched by the mouse’s gluttony.

“This will be a nice start.” Jenny noticed that Diane still had the end of her tie in hand, like a dog’s leash it kept her pulled forward as the rabbit bent down to pluck a donut from the box. She reflected on it, the donut somehow felt wrong in the hands of someone so slender, so pristine. Diane took a brief sniff of the donut, tested its firmness with a gentle squeeze of her fingers and broke the surface of it with a light press from her thumb. “Type 22m,” she decided, her other hand curling thoughtfully around the end of Jenny’s tie-turned-leash. “Not yet approved for public consumption.” Her eyes slowly turned towards Jenny, now assessing the near blob of a mouse, roaming from the way her massive gut pushed her legs apart to how it lifted her breasts up to her chins. “That probably explains it.”

“Explains what?” Jenny shrank beneath that gaze. She couldn’t help but feel like a piece of meat to be examined before sale.

The rabbit didn’t explain, instead her lips just curled back into a grin and she approached Jenny again, tugging the tie ever so gently. She held the donut towards Jenny, it looked massive in Diane’s hands - but then Jenny realised it would look massive in the hands of most people who weren’t as obese as she was. The mouse opened her mouth - it was instinctive, she realised; a reflex after seeing so many donuts, she was simply ready to eat one more. Not that Diane waited, of course. The donut was jammed roughly, firmly into her mouth. She wasn’t feeding a lover or a close friend, she was feeding a pig. A pig that needed to have its food forced into it, crammed handful by handful. Jenny almost choked with surprise, and was more surprised still to find herself actually swallowing the donut, gobbling it down with bulging cheeks until it was sent as a lump of half chewed pastry to her stomach.

And feed her like a pig, she did. Diane wasn’t exactly cruel, just not overly gentle as the next donut was plucked from the box and pushed between Jenny’s waiting lips. And the next. And the next. The worst part was, Jenny reflected around a mouthful of barely chewed raspberry donut, that she could have stopped at any time. She could have refused. If she really wanted.

She tried - Jenny protested, “W-what’s going on?” She said, after her third donut and while Diane still held the fourth up like she expected the mouse to just open wide.

The rabbit didn’t say anything at first, she still wore her grin - now a savage smirk. Instead she simply tugged on the tie-turned-collar. It tightened ever so slightly, not uncomfortably, around Jenny’s plush neck and pulled her forward. Her mouth opened involuntarily and before she realised it there was a donut pushed between her lips and bulging her blubbery cheeks. She thought about resisting more, spitting the donuts out, but the feeling of the tie around her neck made her blush, and it was to her shame, nothing compared to the feeling between her legs. Whenever she thought about resisting, all Diane had to do was twist her wrist a little and the slightest friction between the tie and her neck would make Jenny moan softly. It was enough to fit a donut in.

“You like that, huh piggy?” The word ‘piggy’ made Jenny blush and squirm even more. “Like the feeling of someone controlling your feeding? Someone making sure you finish every, last, bite.” She grinned again, obviously having a fun time herself but if Jenny had any control over herself she might have wondered if there were something more. Surely the rabbit had mocked her enough. Surely this was punishment, humiliation enough for daring to rival her in the business. Instead, the taunting kept going, making her blush a deep, deep red. “I can see you,” Diane said, “I can see you squirming beneath your gut. Pushing against it. I can smell the lust on you. Fucking pig.” It wasn’t said with disgust. It was a tease. A taunt. And as Jenny gasped another donut was pushed into her mouth.

The mouse didn’t log into her computer for work that day. Instead she ate. She ate and she grew. Donut by donut, every inch of softness, every ounce of give slowly gave away to her stomach, stuffed larger and larger. Icing smeared her lips. Crumbs spilled down her front. The mouse could smell her own arousal now, the stink of it must have filled the apartment and she groaned but couldn’t allow herself to do anything about it. The ultimate humiliation would be trying to get off in front of her rival, something even she wouldn’t stoop to.

Or perhaps she was just too shy.

Another delivery was made, Jenny’s cheeks burned crimson as the delivery man, a fox in a blue shirt and beige pants, dropped the donuts off beside them. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Massive, fat, spilling out of her clothes and being stuffed like a prize pig. Diane of course revelled in it, holding the end of the tie that had become her leash triumphantly. She thanked the delivery man who excused himself as fast as he could and shut the door loudly behind him. And the feeding continued.

The mouse passed the point at which she would usually stop some time in the early afternoon. It was relatively early in the day, actually. Her stomach had begun to ache and the feeling of relaxing fullness that usually made her sleepy was pervasive. She could feel her stomach stretching to accommodate its meal, and had already tested that stretch with several more donuts worth, feeling it inflate like a water balloon in front of her eyes. But Diane didn’t stop. The mouse kept on inflating. Going from large to larger, watching her stretch marks begin to stretch and grow as her hide grew taut across the growing, expanding drum of her stomach. As the pain began to grow, lancing across the thinning fur of her gut, Jenny mumbled around the mouthfuls of donuts she was being fed. She mumbled half hearted protests that were ignored. And Jenny wondered if this too, was part of Diane’s plan. If the rabbit had found an opportunity to take out her rival in an entirely unconventional manner - by popping her like an overfull food balloon. Feeding her until she burst, spreading donut and gore across the apartment floor. The thought was both terrifying and somehow thrilling.

Sat down, she had begun the day hunched over the mammoth boulder of her stomach but as it grew, inflating like a balloon it began to push back against the mouse. Jenny found it harder and harder to lean forward with each tug on the rabbit’s tie. Harder to lean forward to receive the next donut as her stomach was pumped steadily, not full of air but full of sloshing, churning, digesting food. Crammed full of donuts, packed so tight that as the day progressed she wasn’t sure there was any give at all. Her fingers gently probed her sides and found they pressed in only slightly.

It was almost evening by the time there was no room at all. Diane tugged gently on the tie for Jenny to receive her next donut and the mouse could no longer rock forward against her own mass. Her stomach had buried her legs and rose above her like a small mountain. Even sitting, she could no longer see properly over it. Diane had to come to her side just so she could see the donut, but that was not enough. Bile rose in the back of her throat as she opened her mouth and quickly Jenny jammed it shut, swallowing so she didn’t make a further mess of herself or her apartment. At first she thought she would be humiliated to throw up on herself but then wondered if being further humiliated was actually possible at this point.

“Ah,” Diane said simply, with perhaps the smallest hint of regret. “She’s full.” And she let go of her end of the tie, letting it fall against the mouse’s stomach. As though lifted from the responsibility of sitting, Jenny allowed herself to fall back against the floor with a loud FWUMP. There she lay, panting, gasping for air as the boulder of her stomach sought to crush her lungs. Somewhere in the miasma of sensations she felt Diane’s delicate fingers stroke the top of her stomach, lances of pain spiked across her gut. She really did feel ready to burst. She couldn’t see the rabbit anymore, not past the hill of her own stomach. But she could feel her fingers tracing down her massive side.

Somewhere behind her stomach Diane sighed. “Well. Now I know why you’ve been missing work. I suppose I’ll have to go easy on you, after all it’s not like you’re in a position to supplant me now.” That was accompanied by a laugh and a gentle slap to Jenny’s stomach. Gentle, because that was all it could take and that slap alone made half eaten donut push up the mouse’s throat. She groaned and swallowed, ignoring the pain she felt and the closing darkness of a sleep she could not deny. “If you want to do this again though,” Jenny heard Diane say, “well I’d say give me a call but... maybe I’ll just come by. Good pigs don’t get to choose now, do they?”

It was the first time Jenny would orgasm while being crushed under the weight of her own stomach, but it wasn’t the last. Shuddering with bliss, Jenny fell unconscious.