Power Hungry 3 (Revamped!) (Patreon)

Princess Emi wasn’t hungry.

That was the lie she told herself as she snacked on a bowl of fresh fish-shaped cookies that were made more with frosting than dough. Flecks of teal sugar clung to her plump lips while cookie after cookie was shoved into her mouth, desperate to fill the unyielding maw that was Emi’s appetite.

She wasn’t hungry at all. She just needed another bowl of cookies.

The tubby Princess had already packed her puffy round belly when she was in the ship’s galley, having ordered her cooks to prepare the heaviest breakfast that they might imagine.

Regrettably, the chefs’ imagination seemed to be very small. Four waffles, eight pancakes, six eggs, twelve pieces of sausage, and an entire grapefruit, which the head cook had assured her would help ward off the ever-present threat of scurvy.

She might as well have had nothing, for all the good it did her rumbling tummy.

Emi had been forced to cover the entire meal with a sticky layer of sugary syrup in a hopeless attempt to curb her hunger. She had even thought it might have worked, as when she made to rise from the table, she that found she was lodged in her chair.

It took two deckhands to lift Emi’s fat ass out of the tight wooden seat, and the seafaring Princess had felt stuffed to the gills when she had left the dining hall. The morning call had went up, but many of the crew was forced to wait in their bunks as the Princess slowly waddled from the galley back to her cabin.

They didn’t say anything, but Emi could feel their eyes. She was acutely aware that there just wasn’t room in the hallway. She was too wide, too slow, too friggin fat.

And now here she stood, watching the city as they sailed into port, stuffing her stupid fat mouth and having achieved nothing. Emi’s gut was rumbling so loud that it jiggled, her lungs filled with by the sweet stench of Black Forest Cake.

The smell came in from the window, circling around the Princess’s hips and then up to her belly. It was a long journey up to her breasts, sliding up through her chest and into her nose. It encompassed Emi like waves washing around an extra-wide globe.

“Would you shut up?!” she demanded, rapidly stabbing her finger into her belly. “You’re on a diet!”

Her tummy responded, rumbling louder than the ship beating the waves.

“No more cake! I’ve had it!” she hollered at herself, cramming another cookie into her mouth. “W’re gettin’ fatter e’ch day!!” she forced herself to swallow before rapidly pounding porcine fists against her ham-covered body, wanting for silence. “We’ve been good for two months!! I’m not breaking that, and we are not taking another handout from that Royal Bitch!”

Emi glared at the city, turning her eyes up to that horrible palace. Stupid white walls with stupid pink turrets, and a stupid blonde fatass who got her into all this!!

The Princess turned, plodding along on her sagging thunder thighs to her vanity and doing her best to banish the scent from her senses. A tall mirror set in front of an extremely wide stool, her head advisor had insisted she needed a proper beauty station. Emi’s green eyes flared like priceless emeralds, glaring at the fatass with the fat ass who stared back at her.

The Princess’s color was a soft seafoam green, another suggestion by her advisor to represent the people she ruled. An extremely wide dress that didn’t hide a single pound of her weight, with a teal sash tied around her massive gut with decorative seashells. White frills were meant to look like the wake from the tide, washing over the hanging pale skin that was Emi’s softness.

What remained of Emi’s short neck formed a fat double chin, rolling over the top of her chest with hundreds of pounds piled into such a short frame. She might wear it better if she weren’t so friggin short, but Emi’s hips looked almost as wide as the girl was tall! Everywhere her skin showed, fat, fat, FAT!! A slight turn of her hips showed her body in profile, and her massive ass with a shelf that was bigger than her hanging gut!

The closer they got to this friggin dumb city, the more Emi wanted to eat until she tore out of the dress! It wouldn’t be the first time an Ibarazaki had ruined her clothes, and it probably wouldn’t be the last because her stupid stomach wouldn’t shut the hell up!!!

Emi wavered her hands at her obese reflection, snarling like the littlest and heaviest kitten. She was supposed to be thin! She was supposed to be strong!! Years sprinting around that damn coastline, and the moment she sits down she let herself quintuple in size?!

Princess Emi’s kingdom hadn’t existed until eight years ago, though it had expanded as rapidly as her waistline now did. The South-Eastern coast of the continent, as well as the small isle beyond, had originally belonged to self-proclaimed ‘lords’ and ‘gentlemen,’ and the hadn’t taken kindly to the new girl’s claim.

None of them were gentlemen. Most of them were pirates.

All of them were slavers.

All of them were gone.

They had been removed from their seats, by force when necessary, and those that remained were serving out sentences in Emi’s Royal prison. The ones who hadn’t already been torn apart by their former ‘constituents,’ anyway.

While her seadogs were more brutal than Emi let herself be, justice had been delt by the red-steel blades of the world’s fastest Princess.

More like fattest now… Emi winced, disliking the truth of her own frank assessment. It took both of her hands to just lift her belly, dropping it to bounce and sag down to her thighs. Her hands then went to her hips, so wide now that she stretched beyond the mirror’s frame.

Emi slowly bobbed from side to side, wiggling her overblown ass and comparing herself to the sea’s fattest whale. Knowing what needed come next, the Princess then lifted the hem of her dress.

The curve of her belly hid her lace panties from sight, fatness that concealed her maidenhood entirely from view. Ghostly white stretchmarks from her rapid weight gain surrounded a belly button that was as deep and as wide as her mouth. Her thighs that once looked juicy and strong, were now each the size of an overweight sow. There was so little room that the legs smothered each other to just before her saggy fat knees, former muscle and scars concealed by the creamy white fields and dusted by stretch marks.

There was also the marking where her legs truly ended, where Emi’s fat flesh became her refined porcelain prostheses. They were crafted to look as fitting as possible, which meant even her prostheses made Emi look fat.

The girl sighed, dropping her dress, and spoke to herself in the mirror. “Yeah, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah… Would you just get used to it, already? You knew this was coming…”

Try as she might, she couldn’t deny that. She’d seen what had happened to Rin and to Hanako. To Saki and to Rika. To Miki, to Suzu, to Shizune, as well as, she still clearly remembered, the once-skinny Lilly. Each of Emi’s friends had multiplied in size.

Heck, she remembered herself after that first feeding. When Princess Lilly and the new-Princess Hanako had so politely invited her as a Katawa council member to have cake and tea. Emi didn’t know that cake was the Cake, nor did she understand what the effect it would have. She had to be carried away from that palace by her family’s servants, moaning and groaning with frosting on her face, a belly in her lap, and a ruined pair of her nicest prosthesis.

Only after that did Emi understand the taste on her lips. Chocolate more delicious than anything she’d ever dreamed. Sweeter than sugar, richer than jewels, but as heavy in her belly as a ship’s anchor. Chocolate that used to brighten her day like the sun in her sky, topped with such a delectable vanilla that Emi’s belly rumbled even now.

The Ibarazaki family had been nobles, once, with Emi as the latest and heir to the name. Most of the families of those who created the secretive Katawa Council had been nobility of one-type or another. The Satous, the Suzukis, and the Hakamichis were all rich. The Enomotos, the Tezukas, and the Ibarazakis all influential. Nakai was the oddball, the council’s only male, but he was a gifted mage in a land without very much magic. Only the Ikezawas were original royals, but their large island was hardly a real empire, and Hanako… Well, she had once been like Emi.

After her father’s passing, Meiko Ibarazaki, Emi’s mother, had made it clear that their family would keep to themselves, and stay out of the way of the Pirate Lords’ business. They would stand by and, for them, the world would keep turning.

The same couldn’t be said for the common people.

Then, it happened. That day with Lilly and Hanako, that little tea-party with a very heavy meal. After tasting the Cake, Emi was changed. Something about it, the sugar or the mix, or just the chocolate, it had changed something inside her.

It made Emi faster, stronger, even more durable.

Emi came home.

And she had come hungry.

The Black Forest Cake was akin to a weed. It grew almost like berries, already fresh and ready for consumption. It grew on plains and on hills, in grasslands and in forests. It could grow from vines, it could grow from the trees, it could grow even from frozen soil in the snowy mountains. Everywhere but the desert, Black Forest Cake thrived.

But it was only for them. Through this unholy curse, devil-baked chocolate and hellish vanilla, only a few could consume and truly understand the Black Forest Cake’s taste. Only they could master the power it granted.

Emi’s hand tightened into a tubby fist, cursing whatever incubus nightmare had damned her to this obese torture. Just from the far-away scent, echoes of sensation ached inside Emi’s veins. The strength that it gave, the speed that she once had.

It was here, in this wretched city that was turning Princess Emi Ibarazaki into a fat cannonball, that the Black Forest Cake was properly prepared. Not some weed, where Emi had a chance of resisting temptation, but Cake. Chocolate crumbs that decorated Emi’s fat chin, wet vanilla frosting slopping down Emi’s throat. In this city, every gram became sweeter, every bite made fatter, and the strength that it gave Emi would then multiply.

There had been a celebration, an honorary feast for Emi’s final victory just five years ago. Before Akira’s kingdom had yet popped up, and before the council had officially disbanded. Emi had worn her seafoam green dress and even her diadam. She had accepted that she might actually be a real Princess…

Hundreds of pounds in just three simple days. Days spent unable to move because she had shattered her prosthetics as that beautiful blonde bitch kept waddling back, serving Princess Emi more and more Black Forest Cake. The fattening Princess who couldn’t stop herself from licking each platter clean.

Still, she couldn’t help but reach down and softly pat herself on the tummy as another low growl squelched from her middle. She did her best to adjust her dress before trying to banish the smooth dome from her mind. Emi looked at herself, sliding her fingers through her extremely long hair.

She could still see the warrior, if only just barely, hopping on her red-steel blades full of lithe energy. Emi, the fighter, with her shoulder-length twin tails and her long and curved cutlasses.

Princess Emi’s hair reached down to her butt, as fluffy and full as her figure now was. Despite her engorged appearance, she preferred to keep the old image strong, and began to tie it into two proper braids which reached to her hips. Glimmering pearls held her hair out to each side, and she felt pretty happy that she’d let it grow out so much.

At least it matched along with her heightened weight.

A very deep sigh inflated her belly before letting it droop. The hair looked nice, as nice as it could, but her thoughts could never fade from her expanding body. “Maybe you knew it was coming,” she said to herself, “but not like this…”

In the mirror, a glint of green flashed and her true self gave the Princess a powerful smirk. A tilt to her brow, a bounce on her blades, the lithe Warrior challenge the fat Princess, sparkling emeralds that blazed with energy and excitement for the upcoming battle.

The Princess’s eyes were tinted with a much lower flame. The flame of an oven in which fresh cookies baked alongside a dozen jelly-glazed donuts and a fully prepped serving of Black Forest Cake.

The Cake that had given her purpose, and that had ruined her life.

Emi went to the chest at the foot of her bed, then grumbled even louder when her overblown belly tummy blocked her from leaning over. She had to rest her weight on the container, slowly thudding down onto her very real knees, before leaning back just to get the damned thing open.

Her dress liked the movement as much as her pained knees did, pulled too wide by her hips and forcing Emi to roll it up till it rested on the shelf her ass had become. The movement exposed the soft fabric of her white cotton panties, made from more material than her bed's pillow.

From the kneeling position, much of her thighs smothered her porcelain prostheses, creating a stark example of just how much difference all her fat really did make. Scar after scar of ghostly white stretchmarks, and quite a few dimples where her skin truly sagged.

Emi was annoyed to find that the panties had several tears formed near Emi's waist, likely the result of her morning feast. More rips for her clothing, more fat for the Princess. Great. Now it matched the stretchmarks and... sweat…

Gross.

Increasingly irritated by the state of herself, Emi snapped open her chest and began picking through the prosthetics she'd destroyed with her obese hunger. Some running blades were bent, others had snapped right at their focal point. Dress legs of twisted metal along with some tempered by glass, still with shoes on despite their shattered calves.

Another pair of porcelain legs, Emi's first, were some of the few legs that had gone unmangled, though they a third the size of her current pair. She set them against the chest, lifting one hand to scratch the back of her head and while the other had to tuck into her hip so she might even turn. Princess Emi surveyed her destruction, heard another thread of her stretched panties tear, and finally released an enormous sigh.

Even when the Princess was only a few hundred pounds, not much material could hold her, and nothing could last. Running blades needed to be flexible, they needed to be light, while Princess Emi needed more cake. More chocolate, more dessert, more lard for the Princess and her jiggly thighs.

Emi’s old blades were just out of the question, and for a while it had seemed like normal feet were also impossible. Emi was confined to a chair, carried wherever she needed to go, while her Royal Engineers tried everything they could.

They had fashioned a pair of legs from red-steel, hoping the flexible metal would maintain that bounce to her step and help the Princess feel lighter. The first pair had immediately collapsed, as they hadn’t taken into account the thirty pounds she’d gained while they had built the legs.

They tried again, and Emi fared much better this time, making it eighteen steps until the mechanism snapped and she tumbled down on her gut.

Next, they’d tried a high-carbon reinforced steel. The ankles, or cankles if she was being honest, were too small for Emi, and had been ground into mush.

The next attempt tried to mix sturdy material with flexible joints. The engineers constructed her new legs from brass, excitedly explaining that it was copper that had been infused with zinc. Those had lasted all of twenty minutes. It seemed like there was nothing else they could do.

Gold was too soft, while bronze wouldn’t hold through simple six-hundred-pound tests. Emi was forced to put her metaphorical foot down when they informed that they might have an easier time building a full lower body, if she’d just let them make a full cast of her thighs and her ass.

Then came the oddity. The strangest attempt, which one engineer claimed had come from a paper crane she had found in her workshop, floating inside a cup of warm tea. Porcelain, a ceramic material that was made in an extra-wide kiln, shaped into a pair of walking legs.

It failed immediately, crumbling beneath the nine packs of flour that they used as a stress-tester, but as they returned to their workshops, the inventor noticed something special about the porcelain teacup.

The porcelain finish had been decorated with a pink and gold rim, along with an exterior engraving of a familiar icon. A slice of Black Forest Cake topped with a large yellow flower.

It was a ten-day ride to the kingdom of Princess Lilly, and a ten-day return with their bounty of kaolinite clay, taken from the site where Lilly’s tea sets were made. The engineers carried a royal gift from the helpful Princess.

Emi had been stuck to chair for nearly three weeks, and her Engineers had learned from last time. They took measurements to account for her increased sizes, then double-checked after delivering Lilly’s gift of two horse packs filled with Black Forest Cake.

They’d presented the prostheses to her with an excited fanfare to Emi, but she missed most of their description due to being so stuffed. She was able to see well enough, noticing that white material was the same color as her legs, though without any fault. There were no stains of her fatness, no dusting of stretchmarks. Purest white porcelain, secured with leather straps onto her legs, and after she finally caught her breath, the Princess was delighted to find she could walk.

She could hop, she could jump, she even could run. The material, inexplicably, was nigh indestructible. It could hold every ounce of the fat Princess’s weight. But, with the solution came a new problem.

Princess Emi’s prostheses were made of hard porcelain.

There was no give near her ankles, no rebound from her feet. The Princess, who once bounced along cheerfully on her famous red-steel, was now flat-footed. She plodded on sturdy cankles, every step now a heavyweight’s stomp. It made running hard, not impossible but hard, and had led to the Princess spending ever more time on her widening ass.

She could walk, but the fastest Princess seemed to be done running.

Emi did not come to look at that which was broken. She tried to push the uncomfortable twist away from her stomach, picked through her failed prostheses. Warped steel, twisted blades, shards that reminded her of her ever-present stomp until she reached down to the bottom of the chest, where the purest red-steel gleamed like the afternoon sun. The Warrior’s blades, the Pirate Queen’s blades. Unbroken, unblemished, and utterly unused.

The metal was skinner than Emi’s forearm. She would never be able to fit into these legs. The legs of a liberator, of a just and fair Princess.

Emi kept them with her all of this time, in the personal quarters of her largest ship. She had to see them, had to hold them, and lifted them free from the shard-filled chest.

It was the first light they’d seen in many months, and in it they shined with warmth and conviction. The red-steel was as dark as it was luscious and reminded Emi of wind traipsing through her hair. It brought back the sense of overwhelming power in her muscles, and the quick, strong beat of her healthy heart.

It took her some moments to realize that she was practically wheezing as the sensation of memory passed through her body. Air huffing and puffing through her lungs, bringing her drooping belly up before sagging back down. Up, and then down, and Emi was brought back to her royalty. She was reminded that she was a fat Princess, reminded of her duties.

Of her vast hunger, and her sweet misery.

Emi nearly threw the prosthesis, but abruptly the Princess went very still. From the almost-empty chest, Emi spotted something she’d truly forgotten. A long length of leather made into a curve. It looked naked, without occupancy, and it made Emi sad.

The Princess placed her red-steel legs down on the foot of her bed, before slowly, reverentially, picking up the sheath of her old cutlass blade. Her hand gripped where the handle should be. It should be an ornate silver handle, with large emerald jewels laid into the hilt. Emi could almost feel the blade in her hand, drawing it free from the leather.

There was nothing there. Why would a Princess need a blade? She had won.

Peace in our time.

Peace sucked.

A clatter from behind made Emi jump, landing on her porcelain prostheses with a ship-shaking Thoom!She whipped around, fumbling for the non-existent hilt of her non-existent sword, but drooped in resentment as an overweight woman wobbled ass-first into her cabin.

“Whooo’s hungry!” the wiggling backside asked. Her most trusted advisor was dressed in the same cloth as Emi, and she brought with her a large silver cart stacked with another breakfast. “The morning call’s already gone up, sleepy he- oh!” the butt turned around, showing a waggling tummy and delighted emerald eyes. “You’re already awake!”

Every drop of strength flooded out of Princess Emi, hundreds of pounds jiggling flab-covered hips, as the Princess’s most trusted advisor entered the room. “Mooom!” Emi whined. “Why do you never knock?!”

Her portly mother clapped her hands, giving her much larger daughter a beaming smile. “And you even tried to start doing your hair! You’re doing it wrong, but I can help with that!”

Emi’s fat lips tucked into a double-chinned pout as her mother scampered around her side.

“Goodness, your room’s an absolute mess! How long have you been up?”

Emi hated that her eyes were already looking over the breakfast cart. It was filled with almost as much as she’d had in the galley, four large silver platters topped by rounded domes. Then, noticing that there were two plates set atop with two glasses of fresh orange juice, Emi realized that half was meant for her mother. She glared down at her belly for its optimistic assumptions.

“Sweetie, you know today’s a big day,” Meiko chided, her hands ruffling through Emi’s hair. “You should have just let me do this from the start. Did you just wake up?”

“If I just woke up, I’d be naked...” Emi grumbled, still eyeing the cart. “I already had breakfast.”

Her mother’s hands paused. “Oh, no… Tell me you were at least wearing your diadem!” Meiko tugged one of the pearl hair-braids free, along with several strands of Emi’s long hair.

“Yeow!” the Princess shouted, nearly dropping her sheath. “Watch it! And no, I wasn’t.”

“Emi, really now...” her mother paused before sighing. “You always were such a rambunctious little girl. But you need to learn how dress and do your hair like a proper lady. You’re a Princess!”

“I still don’t see why I can’t wear what I want,” Emi turned to her mirror to frown at her reflection, a frown which deepened when she saw her hips hid most of her mother from view. She could only see Meiko’s chubby face over the top of her bushy brown hair, preening Emi like a fat little penguin.

“Well, you wouldn’t fit into anything for starters,” Meiko began.

Emi snarled.

“Oh, hush you.” Meiko bopped Emi on the crown of her head, and the fight left the Princess almost instantly. “And secondly, your crew needs to be centered behind you. They have to believe in the throne and in their Princess.” Her voice dropped a half inch and she leaned forward as she finished tying the final lock of Emi’s hair. “After all, most of these fellows used to be pirates.”

“I’m a pirate!” Emi gestured before another sharp tug caused her to “YEOW!”

“Oh yes, Pirate Queen Emi. You father would be so proud to hear that,” Meiko instructed.

Emi folded her arms across her middle, grumbling quietly while Meiko adjusted the pearls to show in her hair. Then her mother popped up to look at the reflection, affectionately patting her short stack daughter. “Let’s get you your breakfast. My little girl is always cranky until she’s had something to eat.”

“I told you, I already had breakfast,” Emi grumbled, her voice much quieter than her rumbling belly.

“We can sit by the window,” Miko said, lovingly pinching a roll of Emi’s backfat. “I’ll grab your diadem.”

Meiko had to circle around Emi, which only made the disparity between them even more obvious. At one time, Meiko had been the fat woman and Emi had been the skinny princess. Now, Emi was more than twice the size of her mother, and in such short a time. Fatter than fat, hungrier than hungry, a spoiled fat tummy with spoiled fat hips, and Meiko had the audacity to seem like she was in such a good mood.

Emi followed her mother back to the vanity, more aware then ever of how large they both were. Meiko was fat, undeniably so, but her tiny round daughter made the woman merely look plump. And she had been so skinny before…

Another event that was Emi’s burden to carry... Not only had her appetite ruined her own figure, but Emi had also done in the waistline of her mother, years ago, by sneaking her a bite of Black Forest Cake.

Meiko smiled at her reflection, lightly shaking her hips from side to side. “Don’t these dresses look nice?” she asked. “I think that this color is really a keeper! Don’t you?”

Emi watched her mother’s hips quiver, her belly bouncing up and down. The Ibarazaki’s, one of the most influential houses of the old kingdoms, were now a couple of fat girls playing dress up.

When did it end? Would her mother ever plateau?

Emi’s double-chin and thick sausage fingers made it more and more obvious that she probably never would.

It wasn’t fair. How did her mother wear it so well, while Emi looked like a pig in a dress? Meiko, like Emi, carried much of her weight in her hips and her thighs, but the way that she moved and the way that she smiled, Meiko wore two-hundred-and-fifty pounds as if every one had enhanced her life. She looked better than now she had at one-ten!

Just peeking past the verges of pudgy, next to the lard-covered butterball that was her darling little Emi.

Meiko bent over and opened the clasp in the jewelry box. The diadem, which Meiko insisted on calling the little tiara was supposed to be symbolic. Like Emi’s dress and her pearls, it was meant to represent some part of her kingdom.

Rejecting Emi’s ideas for blood-colored rubies and silver-crossed swords, Meiko had insisted the circlet be made from melted gold of the old pirate lords. She had the headdress made into a richer color, almost matching Emi’s bright brown hair, to represent the sand of the coastline. Three rectangles were established at the head of the band, meant to symbolize the building blocks of a kingdom united, with each fixture set by an aquamarine gemstone. Emi thought that they looked like little sandcastles, but that suited her nicely enough.

Meiko delicately placed it atop Emi’s head, then lightly adjusted her long twintails before merrily clapping her hands. “There we are, you’re all prettied up! Who’s my little Princess?” she asked.

“Moooom,” Emi blushed.

Meiko reached up and pat Emi upon her cheek. Her dimpled smile pushed pleasantly against a beauty mark upon her right cheek. “You know I’m just teasing,” she winked.

Then, she did something Emi hadn’t expected. She grabbed her tight, arms squishing her middle in every direction, pulling Emi into a clasping hug, practically smothering the girl’s face in her mother’s large chest.

Even up near her shoulders, Meiko’s fingers could not meet behind Emi’s back. She pinched both hands into deep fatty folds, pulling tighter as Emi started to struggle. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Glah! Mom!!” Emi struggled, pushing against her mother and eliciting a loving giggle. “Lemme go!”

“Hehehe aye, my Princess,” Meiko winked.

Emi groaned. “You’re not even saying it right! It’s aye aye when told to do something.”

Her mother’s smile brightened, swaying from side to side on plush hips. “Aye aye, Princess!”

“T-that one wasn’t an order!” Emi released an exasperated, “Grraaaah, whatever! Can we just… go, or something?”

For the first time since she came, Meiko’s smile drooped into an overweight frown. “B-but I brought breakfast…” she pouted.

“I’m not hungry!” Emi lied. “I already ate a huge breakfast! I’m so stuffed I can barely-”

Betrayal came in a long, quivering growl from her center. Despite all reason, the Princess felt almost hollow.

A moment of silence where emeralds looked into bashful emeralds before another grumble joined. Much quieter, soft, but still hungry.

Together, the Ibarazaki’s found the slightest of smirks pulling up on their cheeks. They grew and they grew as Emi’s belly again growled, her mind entertaining a few extra bites, and the two fat girls began the merrily laugh from their overweight tummies.

“Alright, alright,” Emi rolled her eyes, a pale hand lightly petting her stomach. “Fine. Second breakfast, yes fine.”

Meiko tapped her hands together in a pleased series of claps before heading for the cart, while Emi turned and began the short waddle past her large dining table to a much smaller one that sat beneath a window. Snagging two of the extra-wide chairs, she set up the seats while her mother brought over the cart.

“You know, you’re not being very supportive of my diet!” Emi complained from her chair.

Her mother giggled, taking the first of four platters free and setting it before the Princess. “Here I thought that this was being supportive,” she winked.

Emi groaned. “You don’t get it. It’s like, I haven’t been around the stupid stuff for two months! We’re still like an hour from reaching the city, and…”

Emi’s belly filled in the rest.

“Well, I had these made up special,” Meiko gave her a second cheerful wink. “Maybe they’ll help.” She lifted the top to Emi’s platter, revealing six delectable fish-shaped pastries. Emi’s chest blew up as the scent hit her nose, licking her lips as she recognized her famous sea-side dessert. Bungeo-ppangs, made from chocolate dough and doubled stuffed by sweetened vanilla glaze.

It wasn’t Black Forest Cake. They were just chocolate pastries with a vanilla filling. Emi knew that it wouldn’t give her nearly the same amount of joy that she was given by Cake, but her body didn’t seem to care what she knew. It had already shoveled the first into her gluttonous maw, smiling wide with closed eyes, gushing over the lovely, “Chocooo’aat’.”

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Meiko was delighted by her Princess’s reaction. Not so much by the scattered crumbs rolling down her dress as Emi purred with a heady relish, but she was just happy to see her daughter smile.

Emi didn’t smile enough these days. Too much worrying about her body and about her weight. She was already fat, she was going to get fatter. What could they do? Emi was one of the most important girls on the continent, and she was the strongest for sure.

Meiko had seen Emi sprint faster than a horse could gallop, seen her daughter best men twice her size in a contest of swords. But that was over with. Emi, her Princess, had done what her husband died for.

She shouldn’t have to fight another day in her life. Let her be spoiled, let her grow fat. She could still train her Royal Guard, she’d never be satisfied if she didn’t do it herself, but otherwise… let Emi grow soft. Let her grow fat, and grow old, and never have to hold another sword in her life.

Meiko realized that she was staring, watching the joyful munching of her sweet Princess. She’d forgotten that she’d need to get Emi’s necklace, pearls that stretched wide to reach around her fat neck, but that could wait. She passed Emi her platter, filled with another six doughnuts, knowing she’d be too busy chomping to even notice the switch.

But, at the same time, Meiko could see the effect of excess. Not from too much of the cake, but from far too little after already so much.

Emi’s strength was gone. She’d never admit it, but Meiko suspected the ‘diet’ she was on was only from cake. She moved slower now, more irritably and more like… well, a really fat girl. Meiko could see her huffing and puffing, sometimes just from standing up from her throne. Even now, in this cabin, Meiko could see sweat starting to form near Emi’s brow. Then she noticed the wetness near her neck, the dribble of exertion falling down her cleavage.

Emi had to be over a quarter of a ton. She was the heaviest in the kingdom, by far, and Meiko suspected that her little Princess was one of the fattest. Rin, her closest friend, looked barely larger than Meiko, while Emi was definitely more than twice her size.

She didn’t have feet and was as wide as a cow. Her hips were almost larger than her fluffy hair, her bottom so plump that it destroyed furniture. She just didn’t have the muscle to carry herself, and without any cake…

Another platter was placed in front of her, Emi now eating so fast that she looked like she was barely breathing. She sure wasn’t thinking, because she’d have noticed her mother hadn’t had a single bite.

Emi was probably the weakest of all the other girls. She could hardly stand, and waddling looked like it was such a chore. Emi used to complain to her mother about having her Royal Guard carry her, but in these recent months, the Princess could hardly go anywhere without some form of support. She hadn’t done any guard training, either, and Meiko was sure that others would soon start to notice. Emi had no idea how to walk, how to talk, even how to sit like a Princess.

With a sword on her hip, her daughter liberated a people who loved her so much that they made her their leader. Without that admiration and love, Meiko worried that some other pirate would try to take over. It was her duty as a parent, as the mother of the Princess, to teach Emi her duties. More than walking and talking, how to bea Princess.

And if that meant she had to be fat, then Meiko would rather her Princess be as soft as a pillow and as wide as a bed.

Her chest was billowing up and down now, dribbles of sweat pouring down from her scalp. Meiko was rewarded, again, for her guidance, the thick seafoam dress hiding the several sweat stains that must be forming around her wide belly.

The mother placed Emi’s two empty platters in front of her, watching as Emi’s voracity slowed. Heavy, mushing bites of chocolate dough, shoving as much as she could into her mouth before haltingly chewing it while her mouth groaned and the soft fireworks sparkled in her emerald eyes.

Chocolate with vanilla, the perfect combination, and the lack of the cherries keeping her appetite reaffirmed. No, it wasn’t black forest cake, but it was close enough. Right?

Eighteen doughnuts. It was too much for any girl, especially one who’d eaten such a large breakfast. Meiko had left two of the platters behind after the chefs told her what her doughball had eaten. But she lifted the top to the final six pastries, and was not surprised when Emi’s unthinking hand clamped onto another, lifting it up to her already full mouth.

If twenty-four doughnuts couldn’t hold over her daughter… well, then Emi might just need to accept her diet would always include a nice helping of cake.

Meiko drank her glass of orange juice, ignoring the wanting squelch from her stomach. She circled the table, saw the bovine blink as Emi’s eyes registered her, and came around behind the width of her daughter.

“How is it, honey?” she asked, brushing Emi’s hair back and placing her hands on her shoulders.

“I-ish… amashing…” Emi groaned.

Meiko’s thumbs pressed into Emi’s sweaty fat skin, slowly spinning in circles while her fingers massaged Emi’s shoulders. “The chocolate, right?” she asked.

“C-chococo… choko’ate…” Emi grumbled again. She was sagging further down in her chair, head making little cycling moves into Meiko’s massage.

Meiko sighed, knowing the signals. Emi could fall asleep like this. Maybe she should let her, let the girl be lazy until they came into port. Let her Princess dream of filling herself with those cakes.

“You feel heavy, don’t you?” she asked.

Slowly, sleepily, Emi nodded.

“You feel fat. Don’t you?”

Softly Emi replied, “… Am… fat…”

“You feel happy. Don’t you?”

Emi leaned back further. Her eyes were closed, her face was sticky, and her porky chin was completely covered with crumbs. “Am… happy,” she sighed into a grin, her mouth empty and her belly packed full.

“I know you are,” Meiko felt herself smile. She leaned down and kissed her daughter on the forehead, careful to keep the diadem in its place, and slowly, Emi returned to an exhausted sleep.

******************************************************************************

“Princess Emi?”

“Princess Emi?”

“Wake up, please.”

“Please, wake up.”

Emi slowly opened her eyes. She felt groggy and tired. So heavy and full. It took several blinks for the blue and pink swirls to finally take shape, and for a moment Emi’s tired mind thought she was seeing double.

“Whuz goin’ on?” she asked. “Where’s mom?”

“Right here, sweetie,” Meiko appeared between the two girls, and Emi finally recognized them. They were the twin girls from her Royal Guard, Rem and Ram. Or was it Ram and Rem?

Pink and blue, or blue and pink?

Emi blinked, adjusting herself in her chair. She tugged her dress out of her fat-folds, brushed her hair back behind her head. She then noticed the necklace of pearls, which then caused a momentary shock of worry about her tiara. Her white piggy fingers found the crown still attached to her head.

“We’re about to come into the port,” her mother said. “The ship master had us stop while they send an envoy to guide us.”

Emi stopped adjusting, then blinked at her mom. “An envoy?” she shook her head. “We don’t need an envoy. Shipmaster just tells us which pier to dock…”

“I told you it was weird,” the blue-haired girl said.

“Yes, but you’re weird,” the pink one replied.

“Rem, here, said we should awaken you,” Meiko gestured to the blue-haired girl.

Emi’s Royal Guards dressed in seafoam green swimwear, specifically to show their fitness and strength. Both Rem and Ram were the pictures of fitness, proof of their power demonstrated just by their figure. When people saw Emi’s Royal Guard, they knew there was a people of great warriors.

Then they saw the Princess, who looked like she might be some kind of great eater.

Emi needed her Guard to look as good as they did, because she knew that she now looked like she did, even if it caused her some small level of spite. They possessed the body that Emi Ibarazaki wished she had been able to preserve.

Slowly, Emi made to stand up. She wiped at her lips and was surprised to find it was clean. She thought she could taste… chocolate.

No. She could smell it. The city, this kingdom, this wretched scent. Emi stood up from her chair.

“Going to go to the helmsman,” she brushed through the guards. “Find out what the hell’s going…”

Emi’s hand closed around the doorknob to her cabin as she nearly blacked out.

Black Forest Cake took over her senses. Frosting washed over her hands, vanilla swept into her nose, and the taste of chocolate and cherries mashed over her tongue. It took her mind as she realized that the Cake wasn’t just the city.

It was coming closer.

Two months without seeing, smelling, or tasting prepared Black Forest Cake. It was locked behind doors, inside of lockboxes inside of chests, and each slice had been wrapped in scent-absorbing paper. Emi’s whole being reached out, pulling the world inward to her.

“Emi?” Meiko asked.

The Princess didn’t hear her mother.

This was a scent that wasn’t hidden. It was free, and as clear the salt from…

The ache in Emi’s veins grew stronger, a spark sending a dull thump into her heart. Cold iron baked inside of the oven, even with only the barren but growing aroma. Not the memory of flavor, but the memory of power. The memory of strength.

Emi released her clasp on the doorknob, leaving it mushed and bent out of shape.

Meiko saw her daughter’s eyes fixed on the window, where shouts of men had begun calling to the sailors of Emi’s ship. The mother lifted her dress to hurriedly scampered to the windowsill.

Rem and Ram saw Emi, and both reflexively took a step back. There was a glow inside of her green emeralds, and both of them recognized the smoldering fire. It was the flame the Princess had when she would train them, and usually meant someone was about to go overboard.

Rem turned to her sister. “Bait the shark,” she said quickly.

Ram flickered back before nodding. She braced herself before, with unnatural speed, the pink guard launched herself forward, racing past Emi. She didn’t bother to open the door, instead crashing through it and clattering down for the hold.

Meiko leaned over the windowsill and saw what she feared.

A small dinghy was approaching the ship, so overloaded with pink-armored guards that it was a miracle that the vessel could float. In the center of the ship, a plump brunette girl wore a royal pink dress, both of her arms supporting a massive silver platter that was taller than her entire torso. A handmaiden of Princess Lilly with a most royal gift.

Meiko slammed the window shut before turning around. “Emi, no!” In her most parental, most authoritative voice, she ordered her daughter. “No! They’re playing with you!”

The green fire burned, but it was being supplanted. Emi’s pupils had gone wide, wide enough that they nearly enveloped her eyes, guided by the mindless, empty hunger.

The Cake was here. It was hers. She wanted it now, needed it now. All the exhaustion, the pain, the weight, and the fear, it was all fading as just the bare scent reminded Emi that she was the chosen. She was powerful. Her softness had liberated thousands, but it was her hunger that created a conqueror.

Emi’s heavy footfall was growing heavier, stomping atop of her porcelain legs, and her wide belly loosed a tremendous roar!

“P-Princess Emi, Princess Emi,” Rem took her stance, placing her legs far apart and lifting her arms. “I-I don’t want to-”

Emi kept coming.

Rem took a step back, changing her stance. “Y-you can’t swim anymore, Princess! You’re too fat!” she shouted.

Something broke through the black hunger. Her pupils sharpened from the ravenous guidance, eyes flaring with a green explosion as Emi’s face contorted with rage.

Meiko could barely see the move, Emi was just suddenly six steps closer, her closed fist flying directly towards Rem’s face.

The guard had only just seen it, ducking back from the hammy punch to miss her by inches, then lifting her leg to turn her dodge into a powerful kick.

It sounded like a baker shaping immense dough, a dull thump that caught Emi in her stomach and sending her back. But it was only a step.

“Emi, stop!” Meiko pleaded. “Just wait! They can deliver it to you up on the-”

“FAT?!” Emi hollered. The empty hunger was gone, her pupils now dilated and her eyes now burning almost entirely green. “YOU THINK I’M FAT?! I’LL SHOW YOU FAT, YOU DAMN LITTLE-”

Rem moved. She was faster than even her sister had been, closing the distance and flying past Emi, wrapping her arms around the girl’s stomach. She couldn’t reach all the way around, but Emi seemed surprised as her guard’s hands locked into her belly.

Meiko recoiled, watching the surprise become shock as Emi was lifted bodily into the air before an overweight yelp had her slam to the floor.

Rem hopped back, her arms raised defensively while Emi lay on her back with her arms and legs spread wide. Meiko couldn’t see her daughter’s face past the hill of her belly.

She wasn’t moving.

“Y-you told us n-not to bother talking with our enemy,” Rem said softly, as if unsure if she could even speak, “b-because it opens you up for attack.”

There was silence for a moment. The moment stretched for a while.

It started so soft, but soon heavy laughter came from the Princess who lay on her round ass.

“I did say that,” Emi chuckled, slowly lifting herself to lean on her hands. “Didn’t I?”

Meiko sighed, her belly sagging so much that she resembled her daughter. “Heavens above, you scared the Hell out of-”

She was interrupted as Emi had found her feet in a flash, flinging herself with a shout at Rem.

To her credit, the woman had never dropped her guard. She ducked beneath the Princess, catching her belly with her shoulder and lifted. Hundreds of pounds was flung into the air, twirled once, and landed on one foot and one knee with enough force to shake the entire ship. Emi was back at Rem’s throat only a split moment later, delivering a haymaker that Rem caught with her forearm. But, rather than anger, Emi was shouting instruction.

It was happening too quickly for Meiko to track, but she caught some words such as ‘form’ and ‘footing.’ The mother felt at both times, a sense of relief and a heightening worry.

She’d ‘seen’ Emi when she was at her strongest only a few times. A red-tinted blur on red-steel blades. She was much slower now, likely how Rem could keep up with her teacher, but she wasn’t… well, about to fall over. Emi moved like a girl a quarter her size, and all it took was the smell of that cake.

A powerful strike sent Rem into the wall, but the guard recovered before Emi’s leg could follow it up. She caught the porcelain with her elbows, letting it guide her to the side where she launched herself at Emi.

“Keep your feet!” Emi shouted, lifting her leg and thrusting it into Rem’s torso.

The blue-haired girl let out a yelp as she was flung to the far side of the cabin. She bounced off of Emi’s unmade bed before clattering to the ground.

“Never throw yourself at an opponent that’s faster than you!” Emi dictated. “You gave up your defense for a hopeless attack!”

Rem used Emi’s vanity chair to help her up to her feet, raising both hands with an open spread before turning them inward and tucking one into a fist. “Yes, Princess,” she bowed.

“That’s right!” Princess Emi pointed, a fierce and true grin filling her face. “And if you evercall me fat again, I’ll…”

She went silent, all the energy sucked away from her body.

A noise came from the hallway, a loud clattering that was quickly growing closer. “Mistress Meiko!” Ram called. “Mistress Meiko, I have retrieved it!” She entered the doorway, stepping into the cabin. In her hands, she cradled a small parchment of paper. “I am sorry it took so long, I could not determine which key…”

Rem blinked down at the package that was in her hands, wondering why the sun had gone out.

She looked up.

Princess Emi was fat. It wasn’t up for debate, wasn’t a point of perspective. Princess Emi was short, she was wide, and she was covered in hundreds of pounds of doughy white flab. Her ass took up more than two normal-sized chairs, her dress could fit over five normal-sized girls. The pearls around her neck could fit some women’s waist, and the hunger in face could only be matched by nine other girls in this wide women’s world.

And Ram was holding a small, bite-sized portion, of Black Forest Cake.

Her scream was lost beneath the obese belly-howl that quivered through hull of the entire flagship.