April 2022 Story - The Finger Curse (Chapter 3) (Patreon)

Lord Filmore looked dumbfounded as Agnes picked up her dress and scurried across the ballroom. She dared not look anyone in the face as she made her mad dash. She burst out into the hallway, ran up the grand stairwell, veered down a corridor to the left, and nearly broke her bedroom door by busting through it.

Her chambermaid Penelope was not there. She cursed aloud and rushed to the bathroom and began loosening her corset. It proved difficult and awkward as she flailed her hands behind her. She could already feel it now – the release of a grand belch that would satisfy her basic bodily needs.

The second she finally loosened her corset a giant bubble worked its way up to her mouth with a very audible gurgle. Before she could even think about letting it out quietly, it erupted with a fantastic roar.

BRRrrraaaaaAAAuuuuUUURrrRRRP!

Even though she was alone she was fiercely embarrassed, so she clasped her mouth and excused herself.

“Uff! Oh my! Pardon me! So sorry.”

Etiquette was so ingrained into her behavior that she excused herself whenever she burped and broke wind even in private. The response was simply natural to her. She emitted a few more much smaller burps, which she did so putting a hand to her mouth as if she were hiding it from others.

The relief was only momentary. While her chest felt clear, her stomach did not. It was wound up in knots, making her feel queasy. It had bulged out like a pregnant woman’s belly. Her corset had been so tight that she could make out the outline of the corset in red across her skin.

“By God…” she murmured, and then sat on the toilet.

After another terrible gurgle, she defecated. She blushed and made sure the door was fully closed. She expected complete satisfaction once she finished, but her stomach was still very much distended and gurgling, yet there was nothing more that came out.

A minute passed by. Two. Five. Ten.

The discomfort only grew worse, and Agnes did not feel any relief from the terrible wind lodged inside of her.

“What is wrong with me?” she groaned, bending over hugging her stomach.

Her stomach continued to make awful, embarrassing noises. Nothing came out. Not a single puff of wind broke. Any moment when she thought she could, the wind inside of her refused to come out.

The chambermaids were well-versed in all manners of potions, medicine, and home remedies. Surely there was something that could help her. She finished in the bathroom and wobbled over to a silver bell that laid on her desk. She poked her head out into the hallway and rang the bell.

Penelope was a plain-looking girl, as all chambermaids looked, with long black hair and a dull, tired look. In seconds, she appeared around the corner of the hallway and knocked on Agnes’s door. Even though Penelope was a chambermaid, Agnes did not want her to see her in this condition.

“You rang, milady?”

Agnes laid on her bed in a fetal position, cringing through the windy cramps.

“Penelope? Do you or any of---urgh—the other---ungh—maids have a remedy for the stomach?”

“Tea?”

“Anything stronger?”

“I do not understand, milady. What is the problem? If you would tell me the problem, then I can find the appropriate measures.”

Agnes gritted her teeth. She would rather die than let anyone know that she was suffering from windy bowels. Then again, Penelope was the closest thing she had to a friend, even if they were in a master and servant relationship. Penelope was only a year younger than her, so they practically grew up together. Her parents served the royal family, as did their parents, and their parents, and their parents…

Agnes scowled and got up. She startled Penelope by swinging open the door violently. Penelope gasped and stood back at Agnes’s wild expression.

“You will not speak a word of my problem to anyone, you understand?” Agnes hissed.

“Of course, milady!”

“Good. I am in need of a remedy for distention.”

“Distention?”

“Yes.”

Penelope did not seem to understand, staring at her blankly. Agnes scowled again and said in a low tone, “I am bloated, Penelope.” She hated used the vernacular. Those words sounded so rough and clumsy.

“Oh! I see. I understand. Yes, I know some remedies, milady. I will return shortly.”

“Good. Hurry!”

Penelope shot off like a deer. Agnes sighed and tried her best to calm down. Leaving a noble like Lord Filmore high and dry on the balcony before popping an important question was very frowned upon. She hoped he could understand, or at least accept her apology. There simply could not be a single bodily function to ruin the proposal. The very thought of it nearly drove her mad.

Agnes this time was startled by Penelope’s sudden reappearance. She smiled and caught her breath, holding up a teacup. “Your remedy, milady. This tea was brewed with special mineral water from the Southwood Lakes and infused with leaves grown from--”

“Yes, yes,” Agnes snapped. “Give it here.”

Penelope had not a moment to move before Agnes herself snatched the teacup and downed the liquid. She nearly gagged, as the substance was quite strong and bitter.

“You must drink the entire cup, milady,” Penelope said, noticing that she was reluctant to finish it. “Or else the effects might not work.”

Agnes winced as she finished the drink, licking off any remaining droplets.

“Eugh. I will make sure never to overeat again. I do not wish to drink this sordid concoction ever again.”

Penelope looked downtrodden. In a voice only she could hear, she murmured, “I-I made it…milady.”

Agnes sat down on her bed. She tapped her foot, thoroughly impatient. She kept glancing between the empty teacup and Penelope, who remained idle awaiting her next command.

“How long do I need to wait?” Agnes asked.

“Not very long. The longest I believe anyone had to wait was about ten minutes.”

Agnes let out a pained, exasperated sigh. Penelope stood idly and Agnes said, “I will be in the bathroom. If I need something, I will call.”

“Yes, milady.”

Agnes sat on the toilet once more and waited. The wind in her bowels seemed to loosen, and Agnes felt like she was on the verge of breaking wind, but still nothing came out. It all seemed to get stuck right near the end. She then realized that Penelope might hear her when she ended up breaking wind. There was so much wind inside of her that when it finally came out, it would most likely be heard from beyond the bathroom door.

“Penelope?”

“Yes, milady?”

“Would you mind stepping outside?”

“I am outside, milady.”

“No, no. I mean outside my chambers.”

“Of course, milady.”

Agnes sat there…and sat there…and sat there…

Her stomach never ceased to gurgle and groan. Instead of feeling better, Agnes felt worse. She hovered over the toilet seat and strained until her cheeks went red. Wearing clothes became so uncomfortable that she stripped herself naked and tried everything she could to break wind. Maybe if she sat on the floor? Maybe if she bent over and touched her toes? Maybe if she pressed her belly up against the wall?

Agnes became infuriated. She let out a long, aggravated scream. It quickly turned into frustration and defeat, as she started weeping.

The knock on the bathroom door made her jump.

“I-if I may ask, milady, what seems to be troubling you?”

“I already told you!” Agnes spat.

“I-I know. But I was wondering if—if maybe I could be of assistance somehow?”

“Unless you know how one can break wind then no.”

“Break wind?”

Agnes sighed, exasperated. “In the gross vernacular, Penelope, fart.” The very word made her shiver as it rolled off her tongue. It was a dirty peasant word. Dreadfully unpleasant to say.

“I see. Well. I do know several massages that can--”

“No!” Agnes cried. She was appalled at the idea. Her cheeks went red hot, and she found the very notion distasteful and embarrassing. “How can you even suggest such a thing?”

“S-sorry, milady.”

It must have been the arguing, but Agnes suddenly felt she could bear the discomfort now. It had come and gone like a wave. Maybe she did not need to break wind after all. She quickly dressed and opened the door. Penelope stood back and looked at the floor, awkward. She cleared her throat before saying, “A-are you better?”

“I suppose. I must leave immediately.”

“Are you sure? If you are unwell then--”

Before leaving the room, Agnes snapped, “Lord Filmore will be proposing to me tonight!”

Penelope appeared shocked. She did not seem to know what to say. Agnes expected some more enthusiasm. Marriage gossip was always the rage among the chambermaids, especially whom Agnes would end up marrying.

“O-oh, that is wonderful news,” Penelope finally said. “I am very happy for you. I wish you both the best.”

Agnes nearly yelled. “He was about to propose, I know it. But then the wind in my bowels was so great that I could not bear to sit there any longer while the lord rambled on and on about his lineage. Had I remained there in this state, something very disgusting would have happened.”

Before Agnes could leave, another pang coursed through her belly once more. She groaned aloud and gripped the door frame, almost falling. Penelope yelped and helped her.

“This is very strange…” Penelope said. “It should have worked by now. You are not hurt, are you? Did you fall? Did the lord accidentally elbow you while dancing?”

“No, no, no! None of those things happened. The party went on just as normal as any other party. I ate food that I always ate. I drank wine that I have always drank.”

Another pang coursed through Agnes’s stomach, creating a very loud gurgle that made Penelope turn red. Agnes at first did not understand why, but then again after all it was a very embarrassing situation to be in. Witnessing someone’s bowel movements was not very ladylike, even for a chambermaid.

“Ack! Penelope! What is happening to me? Are you sure that tea was the right concoction?”

“Yes! Easy, milady. Maybe you are having a much stronger reaction than most. Maybe this must be the tea doing its magic. Any moment now and you will…er…”

“I will what?”

“Fart.”

Agnes could feel her bowels move about and gurgle unendingly. She perked up ready to break wind. She could feel it ready to come out. It was right there! Any moment! Any…moment…

Nothing happened.

Agnes scowled. “It is not working!”

“You need to relax, milady.”

“I cannot relax! Do you not understand? The future father of my heir is waiting for me downstairs. I must hear his proposal before he believes I snubbed him. Help me!”

Penelope helped Agnes stand up and walk down the hallway as if she were pregnant. She certainly did look like it, holding her distended belly beneath her dress and needing the wall to support herself. She bent forward moaning and groaning, all the way down to the ground floor, where the commotion of the party could be heard again.

“I am fine now. I can manage,” Agnes said, brushing Penelope aside.

Before stepping into the ballroom, Agnes stood straight, sucked in her belly, and adjusted her hair one more time. When she stepped forth, her mother rushed up to meet her.

“Dear Agnes! I have been looking all over for you. Where were you?”

“In my chambers, mother. What is the matter?”

“I am sorry to say that Lord Filmore decided to leave.”

Agnes frowned. “What?”

“I believe he had something important he wished to tell you, but the night was getting late, and he figured another time would be better.”

Agnes slouched. She stared down at the tile floor and felt as though she wanted to cry. Her mother was about to speak when Agnes stamped her foot before storming off back to her bedroom.