[$20] NSFW LoZ: The Phantom's Hunger Chapter Two (beta copy) (Patreon)

Zelda didn’t see Cambria curtsy before leaving. She didn’t see much of anything, aware of the crackling tension so strong now that the air seemed to shimmer before her very eyes.t the office.

Really, she should have been impressed.

Instead, Zelda was trying to convince herself that such a timely response was a good thing. It spoke to the quality of her staff, specifically of the young Miss Cambria’s fast fingers and faster feet. Which only made it all the more irritating as those fingers nervously tap tap tapped together, an air of anxiety flowing off from the tall, lithe maid at Zelda’s wobbling side.

Cambria irritated Zelda with her mere existence, which was why the Princess had specifically selected her as her personal handmaiden only two years back. Freshly eighteen, a full year younger than the potbellied Princess, Cambria was practically Zelda’s exact opposite.

Brunette, green-eyed, tall, with fairy white skin and gorgeous long ears, Cambria was a model Hylian. She was soft spoken, dainty and polite, but could stand on her feet for hours at a time as she serviced the castle. Perhaps most importantly, Cambria didn’t appear as if she were constantly carrying around a few dozen cupcakes hidden inside of her dress, unlike the increasingly piggy-shaped Princess.

Even their tastes in clothing were radically different. While Zelda preferred lengthy dresses mixing green and gold, Cambria commonly wore a sky-blue shrug with a pink floral pattern that matched a band of flowers she wore in her waist-length hair, and a short black skirt which showed her interminable legs.

Zelda had believed these differences might help keep herself grounded. A constant reminder that should have helped temper her bedroom desires.

She was loath to think what may have happened to her waist without it.

While the blonde had grown to love her shortness, and more-often-than-not felt like she could at least comfortably pass off as ‘Cute,’ her spiking weight and filling appetite was quite obviously having far too much an effect, considering she was currently nude beneath her damned bed sheet.

It was his fault, really. What in the world did he think he was doing, feeding her so much?! He knew how much she liked feeling stuffed, but it’s not like she was the most active Princess! The most exercise she had was when he and she would…

“A-are you sure you’re well, Princess?” Cambria asked for the third time as they headed down the hall, slowly moving toward the royal chambers.

Zelda released a low, shuddering breath, trying to force the heat from her body and failing in every regard. “Yes,” she fibbed, feeling the undesired pout filling out her chubby face like the cake that had turned her belly into a bloated belt-burster.

There was fire in her stomach, passion in her center.

It would not be diminished.

It demanded satiation.

Goddess above, why hadn’t Cambria taken longer? Zelda had barely enough time to feel that bastard’s teeth on stupidly her fat neck, his hands massaging the sugary mass inside of her stomach and further ripping the tears in her dress before the brunette’s timid knock and voice came through the door.

Cake on her lips, belly in her lap, Zelda could just kill him, if she didn’t so desperately want to tackle him to the ground and plant a thousand kisses on his dumb, stupid, idiot face.

Did he have any idea how much a dress like this cost? No! Of course not! Three tears, and he’d practically shredded them! She wanted to bust her belt, not demolish her damn dress!!

Zelda held the garments bunched up inside of a porky fist, the same hand also pinching the bed sheet around her mostly-uncovered body like an extremely long cloak. A queen-sized sheet over a pint-sized Princess. She must look ridiculous.

She really could just kill him.

Or her.

Stupid… tall…

Why couldn’t they have taken longer?! Give her a damn moment with that little dork and his damn, goofy smile! Let him truly undress her, nibble on her neck and play with her belly. Let his wandering hands her squeeze him tighter and tighter before-

“Y-you’re positive, Princess?”

Zelda wanted to scream.

“I am perfectly fine,” she replied, this time allowing the heat which burned inside of her gut to lift into her words. She didn’t look to Cambria, hardly even could see where she was walking. Almost all of her Will was focusing on that moment, the feeling of pinching his waist between her chubby thighs, pulling him closer to the most precious spot.

She’d ripped her dress, had proven to the world she was now fatter than ever, and all she could think about was how badly she had wanted him to tear the whole thing asunder and to have her right there on the office floor.

It was madness. She was a Princess, not some… lewd… hussy! Yet the darkness of the corridor, the assault on her guards and the faded apparition, it was all background noise as Link’s hands could still be felt sliding over her legs, pinching her stuffed stomach between his strong fingers.

Zelda shuddered, the ghost of his hand traveling up to her now naked chest, squeezing the fat of her well-endowed breast. Thank the Goddess, not all of the weight was ending up in her blasted belly...

She needed to threaten him again. Clearly, the last time had had no effect.

If she reached two-hundred pounds, she would kill him.

Closing her eyes, the girl pushed that feeling down as deep as she could manage, which was all of an inch beneath the surface. Her Willpower was practically crackling around her, manipulated somewhere between ‘lust’ and ‘fury’ as her thoughts spun over exactly what she would do to her lover.

Cambria must have felt the boiling air, the feeling of standing outside just before a thunderstorm starts, because she kept gracefully quiet as Zelda felt her emotions rebounding off of the wants from her body.

Zelda was a mage. An untrained one, which meant that unchecked emotions could become dangerous. An invisible field burbled around her, snapping like the leather of her belt, the threads of her clothing, but to most others, simply sounded like noisy digestion which emanated from Princess Potbelly.

She puckered her lips into a sour pout, focusing on the lumbering gait that came from her fat thighs and fuller hips. She was well aware that Cambria was purposefully taking half-steps to keep in line with Zelda’s much shorter stride.

“You were awfully quick… is all,” Zelda admitted. She managed to take ahold of her Will, but couldn’t decide if she wanted to hold onto or smother the stuffed sensation that emanated from her entire being. Those delicious licks of pleasurable pain. The feeling of his teeth grazing her neck, the crumbs of cake which had clung to her cheeks. A low, loud warble wobbled out from her bed sheet, bringing Zelda’s free hand rolling over the crest of her nude stomach.

A short moment of silence passed before Cambria spoke up. “Councilor Livingston had sent me to hurry. He said that you and Link were…”

Zelda peeked at the woman from the corner of her eye.

Despite, or perhaps because Cambria was just a year younger than Zelda, she had moments of wisdom that were far beyond her years. Beneath her bright brown hair and brighter green eyes, Zelda saw as the recognition flooded into the maid’s cheeks, with pale turning into a bright, peachy pink.

“S-sorry…” she apologized, her tapping fingers becoming clasped hands, bowing her head but never directly facing the Princess.

Another sigh, another wanting pang of belly-lust without an object for release, and Zelda nodded before turning forward. “Link and I will be heading out soon, on the…” she had to think for a moment, “1715 train.” Finally, she turned, fully regarding Cambria. “I know it’ll be last minute, so I don’t expect you to-”

“1715??” Cambria interrupted in the way only a handmaiden could. She placed a hand to her cheek. “Oh, my… isn’t it already 1500? Will we have time to pack? How long will we be gone?”

Zelda’s lips folded. “You don’t need to…” she paused, tilting her head to the side and continuing in a softer tone, “I hadn’t even thought of that. It shouldn’t be more than a few simple days, yes?”

“I see… A travel bag, then, and then one case. Yes, that will be doable. But that still leaves supplies.”

Zelda hadn’t even considered what she’d need to bring. 1700 was two hours away, and much, much further from Zelda’s current mindset. The two girls ascended the stairs up to the third floor, passing by a pair of stationary guards and turning down the hall to Zelda’s chambers.

“Yes, well, in any case, I wouldn’t worry,” Zelda said. “We’ll be taking the public line, as Link believes prepping and launching our royal one will take too long to supply and then launch.”

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Cambria sagged. “I was preparing to sprint down to the bakery to get fresh food stocks.”

In perfect harmony, Zelda’s belly vibrated while her mind pined. As stuffed as she was, as satisfied as her belly had been, the thought of a midnight dessert, being fed slices of cake while in bed with her hero, brought the sensation of bloat back to the surface.

As if Zelda were struck by lightning, her Willpower surged with the shivering sensation that swept up her spine, causing her tight tummy to jiggle with the loveliest pain.

Releasing a soft, tight, desire-packed moan, Zelda had to focus just to keep on her feet. Like a blossoming flower, every nerve bloomed to demand her affections. Her fingers slid beneath the swollen curve, lightly stroking the fabric of the only clothing which still fit her fatness.

The soft, sheer, wetness of Zelda’s lingerie.

“Do so,” Zelda said, her voice tight yet breathy.

There was a pause followed by a short, “Yes, Princess. May I be excused to go prepare, then?”

A short, heavy, plodding step towards her bedroom, the sensation of Link’s arms so tight around her as to bring forth a rumble that made Zelda feel as if she might openly belch.

“Yes,” she bade. “Meet at the station. 1700. I’ve got to get ready…”

Zelda didn’t see Cambria curtsey before leaving. She didn’t see much of anything, aware of the crackling tension so strong now that the air seemed to shimmer before her very eyes.

He was holding her, massaging her, feeding her more. She could feel herself sitting in a chair, on a bench, on a throne, in his lap. Standing, dancing, laughing, eating. Her Willpower swirled, focusing into her bloated belly, filling out every gap like a pocket of air and pulling her tight.

Zelda hit the door to her bedroom open, waddled inside with stars in her eyes, and kicked the door shut. Willpower leaked into the motion, sending the door back into the threshold with a *BANG* that made Zelda gasp, her head rocking back as she again felt the belt snapping off from her figure and unleashing her body.

Zelda’s head lulled, her tongue hanging out as she panted, and then the girl saw herself in her vanity mirror.

She was wearing a bed sheet. A damn bed sheet!!!

Din’s Fire sprung to life. Five little flames, one for each finger pad, and with a hateful growl Zelda pushed her burning hand into the hated sheet.

It hissed only for a moment before the blanket caught, gray smoke gushing outward and fire racing as thousands of threads melted to ash. The crimson color bled away, exposing her hand and its gushing flames.

Beneath the cover, her torn dress caught the fire as well, burning completely in a matter of seconds.

Heat raced up to Zelda’s soft face, shot around her soft shoulders and nude breasts. It swept beneath her hair, clung to her backside, and down to the floor, consuming the Princess completely in smoke and in flame.

Zelda let the drape melt from her shoulders, let the ash fall from her hands, and walked out of the fire, snowy white skin bouncing as every single pound was now clearly displayed.

She was too short to be so fat. Too pale, too blonde, too much of a Princess. Princesses weren’t supposed to be fat. They were supposed to be skinny, firm, well trained, and… well, they weren’t supposed to look like Princess Zelda.

Her hair looked gorgeous. Her skin was fair. It was all in her body, all of the weight that had spilled over her waistline and now sagged over her sex. Her hips bobbed as Zelda walked to her vanity, breasts wobbling atop of her jiggling gut. Too much food, too many sweets, and Princess Zelda knew that she had to have more.

He was so much taller than her. Chin resting upon her head, right above the emerald she wore in her tiara, she could so nearly feel it. Such was their bond, their love, and it was driving Zelda to the depts of depravity.

She tried to touch him back, to lock her fingers around his wrist and to guide him lower, but there was nothing for her to latch onto. Nobody there to satisfy her urges, to give Princess Zelda her desired release.

Nobody, except for Princess Zelda.

Her fingers reached down, finding the blonde hairs of that most sensitive place. Her belly warbled, vibrating her wrist, and making her fingers skate up and down against her sensitive lips, and the blonde released an amorous gasp while her blue eyes widened into fatty hearts.

Zelda’s teeth clamped down on her lip as she lifted the tiara from her head and replaced the crown atop her vanity. Her hands were his hands, her touch was his guidance, and they pulled Zelda by her waist towards her bed.

She was breathing heavily, panting both from desire as much from pure strain now. How could she even walk, being as big as she was? She was too heavy, too bloated, too fucking fat. Link must be carrying her, cradled in his arms, her belly bunched into her lap. A fat girl, a stuffed girl, filled with cakes and with a golden love as she gasped onto her mattress.

Golden hair glowing, Zelda’s fingers clawed the blankets, pulling her up towards her pillows. She latched onto one, a pink body pillow with a silken cover that was meant for decoration… and for a secret alleviation.

Zelda lifted herself to her knees, pain rippling out from her belly, her fingers tracing up to the pointed areola of her exposed breast. She lifted one of her hammy legs, pushing the pillow beneath her and pinching it tight.

“Nnnghh,” Zelda cried out, the pressure pushing up as she sank down. “Ohh… Ohhh~”

Her nude hips twitched, her belly lifted and the dropped against her thighs, releasing a loud slap as fat met fat and Zelda nearly dropped. Silken sensation, wonderful pressure, highlighted by pain and by her swelling Willpower.

Arching her back, Zelda’s hair fell over her shoulders and covered her feet. A voluminous tremble shook through her scalp, thousands of hairs sparkling hundreds of nerves, and Zelda’s Will became a quickening gust of unrepentant wind.

It swirled around Zelda, helping the girl lift and then drop, lift and then drop, pushing again and again to that wonderful sensation between her quivering thighs and shivering sex. She felt a burble of frustration and pushed herself lower, pushed the pillow higher, felt it squeezed against her bare walls.

Zelda’s gasps became louder moans. Throaty, fat, hearty moans, her muscles all aching yet pushing for more. A dribble of sweat swept from her scalp, which Zelda caught with her hand. Pushing it up and back, Zelda let herself look up to her ceiling.

That’s when he grabbed her. From beneath her, Link’s hands snatched Zelda’s waist, making her scream as he pulled her hips down and shoved himself up. His mouth locked upon her breast, teeth pinching tight on Zelda’s chest and bringing her to the edge of that whiteness with a wondrous scream. “Link!”

She had to see him, had to know he was there, and despite knowing better, Zelda looked down.

She fell from her pillow onto her empty bead, covered in sweat and her own messy hair. Her hips twitched, her thighs shuffled, and Zelda tightened herself into a ball. She wanted to shout out, to punch something, to kick it and set her entire bed on fire, though the emotions all faded beneath something much more powerful.

A hand had appeared upon her wrist. Not fake, not her Will, Zelda’s right wrist was clamped inside of a strong, pale hand, and the Triforce glowed. Still struggling, still twitching, Zelda didn’t dare open her eyes as Link leant over her bedside and kissed her full on the mouth.

She lifted herself, blindly reaching for his chest with her left hand, and hearing his boyish giggle. “Later,” her knight promised.

“Tonight,” Zelda demanded.

She heard his soft chuckle, and then he was gone.

Huffing, puffing, covered with sweat filled out by fat, Zelda opened her eyes. In a flash of movement, a crack of Willpower that echoed in light, she was at her doorway, yanking it open.

“TONIGHT!!!” she roared into the hallway, stomping her foot as if that could possibly help her demand travel across the entirety of the castle.

It must have done something, because the Triforce on Zelda’s hand glowed a bit brighter, and she could almost feel his hand on the back of her own.

Zelda closed the door, turned around, looked at herself in the vanity, and with a languid cry she turned around to snap it back open.

“AND STOP MAKING ME FAT!!!!”

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

Link was giggling to himself, nuzzling his left hand against his cheek.

He knew he had to focus, but just couldn’t help himself. She was just so cute when she got like this. She must have been thinking about food, too, because even after only touching for a moment, he felt his own mind turning towards hunger.

It’s a good thing they were taking the scheduled line. If they were to take their personal carriage, it’d take longer to stock it with food for the journey than the journey itself would likely take.

1715, that meant they’d arrive around 2030, which in the Ocean Kingdom meant the sun would already be set behind the western mountains. The line would spend the night there before starting back up at 0830, which meant they could either stay in one of the passenger compartments, or possibly rent a spot from an inn.

Money wasn’t an issue, but all of the luggage certainly was. Link had the Lokomo Sword in its sheathe beneath his coat, and could strap the Shield of antiquity to his back, but all this other stuff?

The boomerang sat on the bottom of the tote, holding the sand wand pinched to the edge. He’d placed three changes of clothing atop that, then his whip and finally the whirlwind, but he’d run out of space when trying to add the Bow of Light.

He considered leaving it behind. It had been years since he’d even practiced with the thing, and archery was always more Zelda’s thing. Well, when they were twelve. Come to think of it, it’d probably been just as long since she’d fired it too.

Link chuckled, pulling on the drawstring and imagining Zelda trying to pull it back now. She was so tiny, so chubby, it was hard to think she’d even stand a chance.

Maybe that was his fault. After all, who did Zelda have to teach her about anything? Her parents were gone, her grandmother was gone, all of her teachers had been at most academic and, at worst, hostile usurpers. Maybe the Locomos would have been able to help her control the energy that always spilled off of her, but Link doubted it.

He remembered the night when her hand started glowing, if only because his own soon felt as if it’d caught fire. They had been just teenagers, back when Zelda was skinny and Link was still short. Up in her room, on a moonlit night where Link had snuck past their teacher to find his Princess.

They’d sat for a while. Whispering. Playing. Kissing. That’s when the glow had begun, shining so warm and so bright that Zelda had thought they’d surely be found, and had forced Link and herself to hid in her wardrobe until the light faded. She’d snatched Tetra’s journal, showing Link pages and using his hand as a light.

A reincarnation. Triforce of Wisdom and Triforce of Courage.

Another Zelda.

Another Link.

It was, admittedly, difficult to swallow. Ancient goddesses… stories about kingdoms now flooded by sea. The Engineer in Link’s mind wanted to only believe in things it could see, that he could touch and play with. Things that made sense.

Though, the adventurer could clearly see the issue with that line of thinking. Given he could clearly remember fighting a floating imp on top of a gigantic demon train, Link was more willing to admit how little he understood of the capabilities of magic.

It’s just… so much of Hyrule, both Old and now New, it seemed like a fantasy. A mythos of myths, almost all of which came from the journal of a pirate who eventually became Queen.

How could Link possibly be a reincarnation? Tetra’s journal frequently referred to the other Link, dubbing him the Hero of Winds. She detailed how this Link had used a relic called The Master Sword to defeat evil once and for all… but then, evil was here, wasn’t it? This land, New Hyrule, it had it’s own past, it’s own legacy, and with a lot more people who seemed capable of using pen and paper.

Link found himself grumbling, sealing the main pocket on his bag of luggage. He went to the side pocket, ensuring he had his own journal in there, as well as an apt amount writing supplies. He tried to picture his spiritual ancestor, the apparently illiterate Hero of Winds, and wished for the hundredth time the moron had at least had the courtesy to write ‘It’s all true’ before vanishing into the wind himself.

The young man wore a sour glower as he looked over his waist-high bookcase. He really should organize it, or at least ask Zelda if he could get a second shelf. Too many books were set upon piles on either side, which he now dusted off and set on top near the window.

Monster books, adventurer’s journals, Link read and enjoyed all sorts of stories. Castle Town in Ruins, The War in the Storm, and Spirit Park were all great fiction, while others like Mechanics and Me, A Thousand Ways to Light a Torch, and I Can Write! Now You Can Too! were always helpful in the day to day.

He even had a few cookbooks, even though he hadn’t gotten to try out nearly enough recipes. He considered taking along Food From the Heavens, maybe to try out a special dessert on his special Princess, but eventually he replaced it upon the top of his pile.

Link had to think for a while about the mission. An apparition had appeared, had mocked him and Zelda with the tune of the…

Slapping himself, Link hurried over to his writing desk and opened a small wooden container with the emblem of the Spirit Train inscribed on the lid. It had been a long time since he’d used the Spirit Flute, though the instrument still fit perfectly inside of his hands.

Seven barrels all tied together, each of varying length and topped by an individual cover, the flute emanated sensation not unlike what holding Zelda or his Lokomo sword sent through Link. Like there was something more to it, something just beneath the surface.

Lifting the Flute up to his lips, Link waited a few moments, hearing an invisible beat inside of his head that matched with the memory of a cello being played, joined by a pipa, then another flute, a timpani, and an oboe. The memory was strong, so strong he could almost hear them playing around him, before he slowly blew into the Flute and began to play.

He stopped swiftly, wincing away from the barrels with a wry chuckle. “Ahhh, crap,” he grinned, shaking his head. “Sounds awful. I’m so out of practice.”

His fingers felt weird, shifting the Flute back and forth as he tried to remember the colors. Was it blue, orange, blue, white? No, that was too short... and it was wrong, wasn’t it?

With a sigh, Link replaced the Flute into its housing, closed the lid, and added the box to his luggage before returning to the bookshelf. He instantly locked onto one book, Symphony of the Goddesses, and took that out. As much as he wanted to bring Help! My Parents Have Turned Into Gorons. Now They Won’t Stop Making Cheese! he decided against it, as he was almost positive that cheese wouldn’t come up during their travel.

Unless it was dinner. Ohh, if the train line could serve pasta, then he-

“Gaaah, focus!” Link cut himself off.

In the end, he selected three other books to tuck into his bag. Traveler’s Guide: Ocean Realm, The Golden Goddesses, and lastly, The History of Hyrule: A Pirate’s Perspective. He stuffed all four books into the pocket before zipping that shut.

“What else?” he asked nobody, removing his hat and scratching his scalp.

Sword, check. Shield, check. Did he need to pack a sleeping bag? He hoped not.

Zelda wouldn’t fit inside his sleeping bag. She’s also whine incessantly about sleeping on the floor, but then again, she’d do that about sleeping in the cot on the train. “No pleasing a spoiled Princess,” Link said, grinning to himself.

He went to the window to check on the sun, estimating that it was about 1540. Like coals starting to burn beneath his shoes, Link began to feel the closing time constraint. They had to leave soon to make the train.

With one final look, Link closed up his bag and hefted it over his shoulder. It was heavier than he expected, and made him wish for a second strap, but he could worry about that later. He left his room, thinking of Zelda and her bed, and grinned to himself as he tried to figure out the first thing the Princess would complain about.

He hoped it was him.