The Rendering Pit Chapter 23.5

 A little treat for this month's patrons, I decided I'd draw an illustrate an addendum to my previous chapter! In this chapter we further explore Genevieve and Tiffany's growing, unique relationship, as well as its effects on their waistlines~ 

This chapter written and illustrated by me! 

 Contains weight gain, relationship stuff, stuffing, bloating, gorging and a lil bit of partial tf~ 

* * * 

It would be a couple of weeks before Genevieve would take Tiffany down, beneath the workings of the cafeteria, where she gorged herself after shifts. Not just because the place had become a little sacred to the vixen, with its hissing pipes and humid atmosphere, but because it was a side of her she hadn’t shown anyone. But her relationship with Tiffany had been practically dominated with food, from the first meal they had shared in the cafeteria, to the popcorn movie nights complete with whole trays of meals, pre-fabricated just for them. To Tiffany, eating wasn’t just something she did to sustain herself, it was something she did for fun, and enough of that had rubbed off on Genevieve that she found herself talking about what it was she did after her shifts. It was only a matter of time until Tiffany convinced Genevieve to let her show her how the chamber worked.

“N-now don’t touch anything!” Genevieve’s voice echoed back to her, as the elevator descended into the lower chamber. She knew for a fact that the food down here was laced with nanobots to help with digestion, but she didn’t know what else could be effected. 

Tiffany didn’t seem to mind the risks, she stood on the edge of the elevator platform and peered into the gloom. “Oh! Is that a 3000 series reprocesser? And look at the germ scrubbers on that one there!” Her finger darted from machine to machine, as she described technical processes that Genevieve wasn’t even aware of. 

“Just... be careful...” The elevator stopped with a shudder, and Genevieve stepped off. She could feel her body still wobbling, the after tremors rippling through her blubber. She felt the familiar sensation of shame but this time it was coupled with something else, excitement. The vixen gently untied her apron and hung it on a nearby pipe, looking at Tiffany. The jackal had grown a little, in the few weeks they’d known each other. Whereas before she’d been the image of a trim, athletic figure, now she sported a couple of inches of fat that pooched ever so slightly over the waistband of her shorts. She carried it well though, like she carried everything; with confidence and grace. She grinned as she motioned to where the day’s meals were already being funnelled into a large trough, built along the side of the wall. “So, this is your secret?” 

Genevieve’s blush deepened beneath the snow white fur of her cheeks and she nodded, waddling slowly over to where the meals were creating a sludge-like mess in the trough. “After each shift, the uneaten food gets funnelled down here. Usually it’s the lunch lady’s job to finish them off but well, with her on less hours, it’s kind of fallen to me.” 

Tiffany took a few steps towards the trough, but appeared to be keeping her distance for now. “I see,” she paused, looking at the various contraptions attached to the pipework above, “and the scrubbers here remove anything inorganic... you can see where the nanobots are injected there, too!” Her finger traced the line of her eyes, pointing to machinery that looked beyond Genevieve’s comprehension, but then she had been studying wireless technologies, not plumbing. 

“How do you know all this?” Genevieve asked, still waddling her way towards the trough. Even walking felt a little harder than it had a handful of weeks ago, every new pound increasing the tempo of her heart, making her just that little bit warmer, that little bit more out of breath. She felt a familiar tingle between her legs and a jolt of static excitement that indicated, maybe she didn’t feel as bad about it now, as she had a few weeks ago. 

Giving a mischievous little laugh, the jackal girl swept a hand through her hair and shrugged, “I guess you could just call it a vested interest?” 

Genevieve rolled her eyes. She had come to expect nothing less from Tiffany, who threw herself into the culinary world with as much passion as she seemed to throw herself into everything. Everything, except her actual schoolwork. But so long as she was passing, it didn’t really matter. The scent of all that food had permeated her nostrils now, it was pushing other thoughts from her mind. She could hound Tiffany about being a productive student later, now? Now was her time. Time for food. 

Kneeling, Genevieve felt her stomach brush against the floor, and then pool out against it. She blushed. Almost instantly, memories came flooding back of the nights she’d spent here, gorging herself until she blew up like a balloon, her stomach having become a massive thing, far too heavy to try and move with. Sometimes she wondered where all that food went, how she hadn’t ended up immobile and suspended in a harness like Samuel had, but not now. Now, she felt her fingers grip the edge of the trough, white fur now slick with grease as she slowly lowered her head downward, tail curling and uncurling behind her. 

Tiffany must have had quite a sight, the fox giving in now like she never had before, her stomach pressed firmly against the floor and the edge of the trough as she started to eat, making loud slurping, sucking and chewing noises. There were no spoons, no forks, why would there be such tools when the food had been so horrendously mixed together. Part of it made the jackal’s stomach turn, the thought of eating milkshake and icecream mixed with feta and spinach pizza, but she knew enough to know that Genevieve had no such problems.

The vixen was taken by a hunger. A familiar, burning, needy sensation that filled her from her toes to the tips of her ears. The desire to be filled. To stretch. To grow. To gorge. Every mouthful was a testament to her greed, each swallow mere moments from the next, creating a constant flow of food-like slurry into her stomach, which in turn growled and groaned, protesting the sudden influx, but used to it by now. It started to swell. It took a while to see from the outside, Tiffany had to approach to get a better look, after all Genevieve was quite fat. Her doughy middle had become two distinct rolls and given the size of both of those rolls (nearly hanging down to her knees!) it seemed like there would be a lot of space to fill before Tiffany saw any progress, but that space must have filled quickly. Almost too fast, the vixen’s stomach began to bloat outwards, those massive rolls seeming to grow in size, pushing more tightly against the trough. Tiffany could see that at this rate, it would be a struggle to continue to eat before long, the vixen’s own stomach would be getting in her way, she’d be forced to lie on it to continue. 

She looked along the length of the trough and saw a series of knobs and dials. Padding across the cool, plascrete floor, her suspicions were confirmed. They were in fact there to adjust the elevation and position of the trough. Just as Genevieve found herself panting and pushing against her own, growing mass to keep eating, the trough jolted and with a soft mechanical whir, began moving upwards. Genevieve followed, vaguely aware that something was happening out of the usual, but uncaring as long as it meant more access to food. Easier access to food. All that mattered now was eating, and the feeling of her stomach growing, stretching to contain its ever increasing burden. Tiffany smiled in satisfaction, removing her hands from the dials. 

Genevieve’s stomach had really started to bloat now, the two huge rolls that had formed it before were now becoming less distinct, giving way to a full looking roundness. It had barely been five minutes and already she was inches larger, and though she felt it, though she could feel the extra mass of her stomach settling on the cold floor beneath her, it wasn’t nearly enough. She had been huge before, tonight? She would accept for nothing short of enormous. 

Tiffany was going to settle in for the ride, but watching wouldn’t be enough. Disregarding Genevieve’s warnings to keep her distance from the trough, the jackal made her way close enough to kneel beside Genevieve, taking for herself a front row view of the action. It was almost hypnotising, how with nearly rhythmic pulses, the girl’s stomach expanded. It crept centimetre by centimetre across the floor, each swallow adding to its bulk. She found her hands reaching out, gold trimmed nails glistening in the half-light, and didn’t stop herself. Her fingers gently brushed at the other woman’s stomach, stroking through her downy white fur to feel the blubber beneath, and then she kneaded and pushed, digging in lightly yet firmly. This seemed to be the right move, given it provoked a shiver and a moan from the gorging vixen who, although she must have noticed it, did not lift her head from the trough to acknowledge Tiffany’s kneading. And so the jackal continued. Every passing minute gave her more and more mass to knead, push and rub. From the love handles which had formed thick creases around the ballooning vixen’s back, to her slowly expanded rump and of course, the crown jewel of the woman’s body, her miraculously expanding stomach. Despite Tiffany’s earlier attempts to help, Genevieve was now almost completely beached upon her gut. She clung to the trough because, if she let go, she might roll to one side and be unable to reach it again. Her breasts pressed against the trough’s metal and beneath them, her gut took up all the available space it could. It pushed out beneath her knees, and though her feet remained in contact with the floor, if she kept going for much longer, that would not be possible. 

She was huge.

It took all Tiffany had to keep from panting. She’d never seen anyone so gluttonous, nor anyone whose capacity was so large. Certainly, a few of the other students seemed to have become miniature boulders, but it was another thing witnessing it happen. It was another thing to help it happen. Her fingers roamed across Genevieve’s expanding body, tracing each curve and line with appreciation for the work that had gone into creating them. Genevieve had given herself to her hunger, and the results were nothing short of impressive. 

For her part, Genevieve was feeling full. A sensation that had chased her every night after her shifts. Every night she would gorge herself to capacity, and stop. Tonight would be different. Some small yet passionate part was determined to really show off to Tiffany. If this was something the other girl liked, it was something that Genevieve could provide in spades. She felt the familiar aching of her stomach. The warning that she’d pushed her body too far. She could hear, though largely ignored, the gentle creaking and groaning of her stretched hide. She could feel more and more weight being shifted onto her stomach, as her feet threatened to leave the ground. That would be the stopping point, she decided. She’d cram so much food into her, her feet could no longer touch the ground. She was sure that if she wasn’t so full, she wouldn’t even stop there. 

Her stomach had lost nearly all of the flabby definition it once had. Though there were traces of its former morbidly obese glory in the signs of love handles that bunched thickly above her tail, her stomach itself had become stretched taut, fur thinning out to show angry, red skin. Tiffany’s fingers helped salve some of the pain, running gently through her fluff, but all the same Genevieve could feel it. She was so full. So painfully full. Another mouthful, she heard her skin groan. Would she explode? Could she explode? What a way to go, showing off like this. Another mouthful. She made a muffled choking sound as it threatened to come back up, but the vixen managed to keep it down. Another mouthful, this one barely chewed, she simply swallowed the gunky mess, it stuck in her throat until after a few moments, she felt it.

Her feet had left the ground. She wasn’t sure when.

A moment afterwards, balance came back to haunt her. Without her feet bracing either side of her stomach, she had only her forepaws to keep her upright. The vixen grunted as she felt her weight suddenly shift and had to keep her mouth clamped shut for fear of throwing up as she rolled heavily onto her side. Thankfully Tiffany was fast enough to get out of the way, as the massively glutted vixen rolled into the space she’d occupied mere seconds ago. 

“Whoa!” Tiffany’s voice seemed to echo a sentiment felt by Genevieve. The vixen wondered how she could have done this to herself, in front of her new friend. She’d made such a massive pig out of herself. Even if that was the point, would Tiffany even appreciate this? Or would she be rightly disgusted? 

Her unasked question was answered when the jackal walked back up to Genevieve’s still wobbling, rolling mass and placed her paws against it, grinning from ear to ear. “I must admit, you’ve got me impressed! When you told me about this place, I thought you were exaggerating. And then you talked about how much you could eat, and I thought, surely you must be lying! But here you are, so big, so beautifully round.”

Genevieve practically whimpered beneath her blush. Now the hunger was wearing off, she felt huge. She wondered how she could have ever done this to herself. Her gut pushed out so far in front of her, even if Tiffany could pull her to her legs, surely it would rest firmly on the ground. It was a massive globe of digesting food, the largest it had ever been. The largest she had ever been. She felt like she was going to be sick. 

Tiffany’s hands began large and gentle sweeps across the gorged vixen’s stomach, rubbing it ever so gently, so as not to jostle the digesting contents within. “When I saw you start though,” she continued, “I knew you could do it!” Beneath her, the vixen’s cheeks flushed. She felt a fuzzy sense of pride. Perhaps this had been worth it after all. 

This went on for a while, Tiffany was attentive to Genevieve’s stomach, the needs of the aching vixen. Just as she was about to collapse into a food coma, consciousness remaining in fleeting spurts, the jackal bent over and whispered in her ear, “And this is just the beginning.” 

Genevieve shivered, squirming slightly, before darkness clouded her vision and she let herself sleep. 

* * *

Waking up was a cosy affair, as often it was after one of her post shift binges. Genevieve yawned and smacked her lips. She knew to take things slowly, she could feel that not everything she had eaten had been processed and digested. That would take a while, after all. Usually after her gorging she was mobile, just a little bloated (and a lot gassy). During her sleep, someone had put a blanket over her, and rested her head on a pillow. Right! She had bought Tiffany down below the cafeteria! Genevieve’s eyes snapped open and she looked around the silent, gloomy room. It was empty, save for her. Though her stomach practically counted as a person of its own, for how big it was. Still digesting what appeared to be a good bulk of the meal, it was larger than she thought it would be. It looked as though she could easily fit an entire person inside. She blushed at the thought and shook her head. What a pig. 

If Tiffany was gone, that meant the jackal probably had classes. Genevieve was slowly beginning to remember what had been said before she passed out, and she doubted that she’d managed to offend the jackal. No, it was probably just morning classes. Classes that Genevieve herself, ought to begin getting ready for. 

Groaning, the vixen managed to work an arm under herself and heft her bulk slowly up. First it was an arm, helping her to sit up. Then she maneuvered her thick, flabby thighs to either brace either side and, grabbing her gut with one arm and the pipework beside her with another, Genevieve slowly pulled herself into a standing position. The chilly air sent a shiver down her spine, as her blankets fell from her bloated, wobbling body. Already she could tell she was going to gain a fair amount for her efforts last night. Her arms and legs felt heavier, thicker. She couldn’t help but remember Jenny, the regular lunch lady. The pig was absolutely massive, would she end up like that? 

Now that the cold air had helped wake her up, Genevieve could see there was something off with her vision. Something was on her nose, perhaps, barely perceptible. In the absence of any proper mirrors, she beckoned one of her drones down from where it rest, nestled among the pipes in the ceiling. The bee-shaped robot hovered obediently in front of her, and transmitted what it saw directly into her brain. 

It was her, but not. She had familiar blue hair and orange and white fur. Her fluffy ears had become folded over, she had only recently gotten used to that. But there, in the center of her face, instead of a graceful, elegant, vulpine nose, she saw a big, flat, pink snout.

A pig’s snout.