The (eventually) Gravid Golem

I'm here, I'm here! I didn't forget! I've got a story! I just got distracted writing the Christmas fic and forgot to post the fic I already had done! My bad, my bad!

The Christmas fic will hopefully be up by the end of day Christmas day! We'll see if work, friends, and/or family get in the way of that, though.

I'm not the most proud of this fic, but I think it's fun, at the very least. You can kinda tell that I forgot it was supposed to be a kink fic until the second half, though... eheh...

Anyways, fic time! Enjoy~!

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“...And you want me to what now?”

The woman across the table from Megan gave her the phoniest smile she’d ever fuckin’ seen. “We’d like you to be the guinea pig for our newest creation.”

Megan scoffed. “Thanks for phrasin’ it so fuckin’ nicely. Really makes me wanna get on my knees and cry for gettin’ the chance.”

“Well, it’s either that or a lawsuit for several hundred thousand dollars. I don’t suppose you have any Swiss bank accounts overseas, do you?”

Megan let out a low growl but didn’t try to give any more sass. Even if she was nothing else of worth, the bitch was right. Megan knew how well and truly fucked she was right now. She’d gone on a bender last night and crashed her car through not one, not two, but three security gates before slamming through the wall of what was apparently a super secret mad science lab or something for some wacko magic company. It was a damned miracle that she’d only gotten a few scrapes (the same couldn’t be said for her car, but it hadn’t been her car anyway, so whatevs).

‘Course, now Megan was in deep shit with Wacko Magic Company Inc. Did she have a pyramid of gold bars to pay for her fuck-up? Of course she didn’t. She hopped from part-time jobs like it was a job itself, making just enough to rent a roof over her head and some ramen for her gut. She was probably the shittiest mammon to ever grace the ass-backward race ever. The only thing she was an average greed demon on was her body. Lusts get the T&A, prides get the faces, gluttonies get metabolisms, sloths get the muscles, and wraths get the better muscles. All Megan got as a stupid greed demon were b-cups, a soft ass that let her pants slip without a belt, some reddish skin that could be mistaken for a sunburn, a coupla small horns that barely poked out of her slick grey hair, and a shady-looking face. At least envies got to look pleasant instead of fucking shady. It’s like she’d been born with a mud spoon in her mouth, for shit’s sake.

“Whatever. Is it gonna kill me or something?” Megan put her feet up on the shitty steel police table. ‘Course she was in jail right now - where else would she be after the wack-shit thing she did last night? “Why’s this thing you’re gonna do to me worth skippin’ a ton of G’s?”

The fake-ass woman across from Megan smiled wider. Megan meant fake super literally, b-t-dubs. Greyish skin, pointy ears, and funky eyes were screaming changeling - and she swore that rack kept changing sizes. Shirts just don’t swap from giving twelve acres of cleavage to hiding the whole show like that! Point is: super fuckin’ fake. The woman answered in her ever-chipper yet super degrading way, “Oh no, miss Galivia - we won’t be doing anything to you. We’ll just be having you make use of the latest product we’ve been developing for an indefinite period of time.”

Megan rolled her eyes. “Fuckin’ semantics, Jesus- we both know I’m gonna say I’ll do it, so just fuckin’ tell me what it is!”

The woman’s smile took on a real tone for the first time as she said, her tone just a bit perkier than before, “I would, but this is far more entertaining than clerical work.”

While Megan considered adding assault onto her pretty lengthy list of crimes in the past day, the woman reached down beneath the table, rummaged around for a second, then pulled out some papers. She slid them across the table to Megan with a pen. “Please sign on all the lines marked in green, initial on the lines marked in yellow, and print your name on the lines marked with an x.”

Should she have read the contract? You’d think yes would be the answer, but honestly? Megan wouldn’t have known what she was reading anyway. She was pretty smart for a dropout, but she didn’t know a lick of legalese. Not like she had any fancy lawyer friends either, so… fuck it. Sign the doom contract and hope she didn’t get too fucked by it later.

The moment Megan finished her last initial, the fake-ass broad snatched the contract from her and tucked it away again. “Perfect! I’ll let the station know that we won’t be pressing charges. The product will be arriving at your house by the end of the day, so don’t go anywhere. Your first paycheck will be deposited by Friday and we expect weekly reports following the guidelines we’ll be providing every Monday.”

“Wait, what? What are you talkin’ about-”

“Have a blessed evening, Ms. Galicia. I hope you do better than our last ‘contractor’!” And before Megan could stutter out a single extra word, the bitch was gone like a skunk-infused summer breeze. Not that she smelled bad, she smelled pretty good actually, but-

Fuck, that wasn’t important! Megan leaned her head in her arms on the table. Check? What check? How were they even gonna deposit a check when she’d never been inside a bank in her life? Also, it was gonna be delivered that night? Good fuckin’ luck! Sure, they were gonna drop charges, but she’d still been driving more than just drunk. Like hell she was getting off with a slap on the wrist as if she was some stuck-up angel or pride demon or something. Heh. It was gonna be pretty funny to see what state their ‘product’ was gonna be in by the time she got out of here.

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Ok, Megan was actually kinda pissed. Kinda thankful cause she didn’t want to be in jail, but kinda pissed ‘cause she’d gotten freed from her cell and into a car being driven home by a cop within an hour. A cop who, b-t-dubs, had made it pretty fuckin’ clear how he felt about mammons. Ok, it was pretty satisfying when she gave him a pat on the cheek and thanked him for being such a good pig for driving her home, then counted the veins that popped on his forehead. She wasn’t sure what that bitch did to get her the celeb jail visit treatment, but if this was the kinda privilege she was gonna get for working with wacko magic companies, then shit - she should crash into a few more ultra-secret labs-

Ooooooor not. Megan had walked up the stairs in her ratty apartment complex only to find some dumb-looking chump standing outside her door. The demon instantly knew she had to be from wack magic co. (she really had to learn the actual fuckin’ name of the company at some point). She didn’t belong here, that was for shit sure. Beige pencil skirt, white blouse, beige business jacket thing, brown hair in a bun, glasses without a single scratch or anything - the whole ‘raised well’ package. She had a pretty face without an ounce of thought in it and dark eyes without anything going on behind them. She was holding a big old orange envelope and nothing else. No bag, no keys, no knife - nothing to defend herself with. It’s like she was born yesterday or something. It was a fucking miracle that she made it here at all without making like Megan’s criminal charges and disappearing.

“Really? You’re already here?” Megan huffed as she approached the woman and her door. She’d already moved past being surprised they knew her address - the woman in front of her was too weird for Megan to care about that right now. Seriously, even as she turned to look at the demon approaching her, those eyes were blank. Megan sighed. “Fine. Whatever. Listen, just - when you’re leavin’ here, just try to walk fast, ok? And if someone grabs you, remember - fingers only bend so far and skin only stretches so much.”

The woman’s head tilted. “Noted. Where will I be going?”

Megan stared at her. “What? Whaddya mean ‘where’? Back to magic land or whatever your company is called - what is it called again?”

“Rune Tech Incorporated. That is not a location. If I’m going to leave, you need to provide me with a location to go and instructions for what to do once I’m-”

“Wait wait wait, hold the fuckin’ phone,” Megan cut in, getting increasingly irritated. She looked the head-empty bitch up and down once again. Now that she was closer, this woman seemed way too flawless. No moles, no arm or leg hair, a nice figure with everything in the right places, this pretty with no make-up… it was weird. Disturbing. It was kinda like business Barbie came to life with soulless doll eyes to match. “...Who are you? Where’s the product the changeling shit said she was gonna have sent?”

The woman blinked for the first time (holy shit, Megan just realized she hadn't blinked yet, what the fuck-). “I realize that I have failed to introduce myself. My apologies.” The woman did a little knee bow thing - what’re those called again? A curly? Cutsy? Kimchi? Ah, whatever. Then she continued, “My title is MRG-MX18. You may call me any name you please. I am a product from Rune Tech Incorporated.”

“...You’re shitting me right?”

“I do not have the feature to shit, you or otherwise. If you desire that I have that feature, you’ll need to make a request to-”

“No, no, I don’t- I don’t want you to- what the FUCK?”

The woman(?) just stood there, head cocked in confusion, while Megan lost her gods-damned mind. This was a person. This was a PERSON. A product? No, a PERSON! What the fuuuuuuuuuck!? No fucking WONDER why they had some shithead no-life sign on to be their little helper! This had to be illegal in, like, eighty different ways!

Megan stared up at the woman(?), who had a good four inches on her. “You… You’re a person, right? Like, a human or an unpointied elf or a mixed demon or…?”

“Define ‘person’, please.”

“I just- what do you meeeeeean…” Megan took a deep breath. “Ok, smarter question: what are you? And don’t you dare say you’re the product or somethin’ like that.”

The woman nodded. “Understood. I am an experimental creation temporarily titled as a ‘Modern Runic Golem’. As I am not human, elven, nor demonic, then I am not a person.”

Megan felt like her brain was melting. “You’re- created- that’s not what I meant- how’s that make you not- a GOLEM- UUUUUGH!”

There were a million questions left for Megan to ask, but at that moment, the sound of steps on the stairs reminded her that they were still standing out in the hall. There was NO chance she could let this… whatever it-slash-she was get seen by anyone. She quickly unlocked her apartment and went in, saying over her shoulder, “Just fuckin’- get in here, you!”

“Understood.” The golem(?) did as she was told and Megan slammed the door after her. She locked the door behind her and let out a jaded sigh. She stared over her shoulder at the weird-ass not-woman that was now standing in her living room/dining room/kitchen/bedroom. It was the whole apartment, basically. The only room not in this room was the bathroom, AKA roach paradise. Bed in the corner, shitty little TV in another, microwave propped up on a minifridge in the third, and a box with ramen stains on it in the center of it all. Casa de la poor bitch.

There might’ve been a gods-damned reason Megan went on a bender last night, alright? And it definitely might involve her stupid ass apartment. And also probably roach paradise. Almost definitely involving roach paradise. Fuck her, she was never gonna piss in the middle of the night again…

Megan shook her head. Sob stories later, dealing with head empty bitch first. The demoness stalked over to her, where she was just standing and staring around the room. As she did, she noticed the folder still in head-empty’s hand. That was probably important. Good thing Megan had totally remembered it. Fuckin’ dumbass. “Hey - gimme the folder.”

“Understood.” Did this dweeb say anything other than ‘understood’? Megan irately snatched the folder the brunette wonder held up and ripped it open. Yay. Paperwork. The high school dropout started to scan through the papers, searching for anything she understood. Ok, so… golem, right, she knew that now… will follow every command, even dangerous ones, right… send a report on functions, anomalies, damages, and issues every Monday, ok… potential for the golem to develop animosity depending on treatment? Animosity? Like, animal-osity? Animal-like traits? Like a dog or something? Huh. Guess no leashes or kennels. Megan didn’t get off to that shit, so no problems there. What else, what else… oh right, the fae menace to society had mentioned getting paid. Ok, so, they’d made a bank account for her and the info was right here. She’d be getting paid…

…

…

…

…

Megan may have failed algebra (twice), but she knew how many zeros were too many zeros. This was, like, three zeros too many. She jerkily turned her head to look at the ‘product’ that had just been dropped in her lap. “Wh-What- this has to be a typo, right? This can’t be the actual pay they’re giving me, right? Can you detect typos? Like, a super computer or something?”

The golem peered down at the letter. Her eyes rapidly darted back and forth for a few seconds. Then she looked back up at Megan. “All of the contents of this document are correct according to the data pre-loaded into my core.”

Megan stared at the golem for a few seconds. Then back down at the paper. Then back up. Back down. Back up. Take it back now, y’all. “..Shit. Holy fucking shit. Holy mother-fucking bat-shit wack-side-up what the FUCK holy mother SHIT FUCK!”

“I do not understand how to respond to this.”

“Then fuckin’ DON’T!” Megan screeched in joy. She was dancing around her singular room, too ecstatic to give a shit about things like her neighbors or how much she hated dancing. “You can do whatever you want! I’m certainly gettin’ fuckin’ paid enough for you too! HAHAHAHA!”

The golem just blinked. “I cannot. Regardless of your compensation, I’ve been designed to obey your commands and not operate on my own under any circumstances.”

“Fuck, what a killjoy! A glorious, GLORIOUS killjoy!” Megan laughed. She stopped dancing and gave the golem’s shoulder a few heavy pats. “Guess that’ll be your name. Joy! Why not? So fuckin’ live a little, Joy! Get your stick out of your ass and come celebrate with me! Once Friday rolls around, I am OUT of this shithole! WHOOOOO!”

“I cannot remove a stick from me ass as one is not present, but-”

“Jesus fuck, I said shut up and dance!” Megan grabbed Joy’s hands and they started spinning around the box in the center of her room. Goodbye microwave ramen and toilet roaches, hel-lo tv dinners and warm showers! And she owed it all to substance abuse, shady corporate malpractice, and highly suspect experimentation involving sentient life! HELL YEAH!

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“Ugh, I HATE moving…” Megan groaned.

“The act of moving in general or the act of moving from one residence to another? If it is the former, then I suggest seeking therapeutical assistance-”

“Moving houses, you little shit! I swear, one day I’m gonna teach ya how to have simple fuckin’ conversations…”

As promised, the moment Megan got her first payment from the shady megacorporation (which also got her her first bank account and her first six figures! A triple record!), she found an apartment in a not-shitty neighborhood that didn’t ask for background checks, flipped her former landlord off (and left seventy-eight pictures of her middle finger plastered around her shithole apartment with gorilla glue), and moved across the city. She didn’t have much to move at first, but after moving all four of her possessions in (she burned her ramen dining box), she went on a furniture-buying spree. Couch? Got it~. Dining table? Check~. Bedframe? Hell yeah~. She would’ve bought an oven and washing machine and stuff too, but guess what? Her new apartment came with those. Like, talk about high-end! The only downside about getting so much stuff was moving so much stuff. Fuck, Megan was going to be aching for days…

Oh, of course, Joy was helping the whole time. She really did everything Megan asked her to do, including gross things like destroying roach paradise once and for all. She’d even swapped out her modern-Barbie outfit for some jeans and a hoodie so that she didn’t look like such an easy mark. After that, though, Megan swore off making Joy do awful things. It just didn’t feel right, y’know? Like, Megan might be a hardened bitch and a literal demon, but having someone who literally couldn’t say no to her do her every whim and wish just felt… dirty. Was Megan normal? Was that the right thing to be feeling? Why did Megan have to be normal about this one thing? She could have had a super-servant, yet instead she had morals? And ethics? Uuuuuugh…

Not that she didn’t have Joy do anything. She had Joy do plenty. Clean up trash, clean, move furniture, yadda yadda. Megan just made the stupid-ass choice to make sure she did just as much. She swore, despite being low-tier rich now, she’d done more chores and labor in the last week than she’d done in years. How fucked is that? And if Joy had any appreciation for Megan’s noble actions, she didn’t show it. She just looked at the demoness blankly and said her robo-lines. ‘Understood-’ ‘According to the data in my core-’ ‘If you lift with your legs, your back will not crack the way it has been-’ Seriously, so fucking lame!

Still, despite Joy’s joyless existence and Megan’s crackly back, it was all done. Casa de la rich bitch was here! Megan would hold a housewarming party, but if she told a single one of her old friends where she lived and how much money she was making, she’d never be safe again. It was better to cut ties with them forever and move on. What they didn’t know couldn’t hurt her~.

Well, since there was no one from her old life Megan could celebrate with and she didn’t plan on schmoozing it up with the idiots living around her… the demoness got up off the floor and pulled out her cell phone (yes, she could afford a cell phone! And a cell plan!) “Yo, Joy. I’m gonna order pizza. What kind do you want?”

Joy, who was standing absently near the couch they’d just finished carrying in, looked over to Megan. “I do not want any kind of pizza. I do not require pizza.”

“Uh, yeah? No one needs pizza? We get it cause it tastes good, not ‘cause we need it.” Megan rolled her eyes. “For someone with so much data, you’re definitely missing the most important facts.”

“I… will take note of that.”

“Make sure you do, you stupid thing you. Momma’s gonna teach you all the things you need to know to be an actual person and not some lame buzzkill brain-empty robot!” Megan took a  few minutes to figure out how to look up a pizza place, then a few more to figure out how to find the phone number. Once she did, though, she was in! “Yeah, hey, whatever. Can I get five- nah, make that seven large pizzas… What toppings? Watchu got…? Yeah, that all sounds good. Pick, like, three of ‘em for each pizza… Yeah, I’m sure. I ain’t picky… Eh? Why do I hafta pay with a card…? Store rules? Sure, fine, whatever. Gimme a sec, gotta get it out…”

Megan finished with her order and flopped onto the couch. “Pizza’ll be here in, like, thirty minutes or it’ll be free. Not that I care about free anymore! Rich bitch, HA!” She did a little squirmy jig on the couch. Meanwhile, Joy just stared at her blankly. Megan jigged for a few more seconds, then just stopped and sighed. “Fuck, you are so not fun. You’re like a somehow worse version of the stuck-up nerdy dicks from college movies - the ones that never want to hang out or party and report all the super fun people for doing fun but illegal things. Don’t you dare ever report me for doing fun things, b-t-dubs.”

“Understood.” A few seconds passed. Then, Joy spoke again, “May I… ask a question?”

This was new. Joy never questioned anything apart from wanting clarifications on orders. Megan perked up immediately. “Yooo, of course you can! Flaunt that free speech I’m giving you despite the will of your corporate overlords, bitch! What’s up?”

“If you are too superior to watch movies, as you have previously stated that movies are for ‘rich, privileged nerds that have too much fuckin’ time on their hands’, then how are you aware of movie tropes such as the one you just compared me to?”

“...I suddenly regret giving you free speech. Can I undo that? Like, can I just undo golem suffrage? Would that be a hate crime? Fuck, that’d be a hate crime. Am I willing to be a hate criminal just to avoid a question…?” Suddenly, a rank odor reached Megan’s nose. Her face wrinkled and she looked for the source of the offending odor. Turns out… it was her. She’d been too excited about her new life with a new shower and hadn’t wanted to shame her body with her de-roached cold shower anymore, so… she was smelling pretty ripe. “I don’t have to be a hate criminal! I’m going to avoid your question by going to shower instead! Get the pizza for me if the pizza arrives while I’m sudsing up, k?”

Megan skipped off, excited to try shampoo that was meant for just your hair for the first time. She wondered how different it was going to be from bar soap or two-in-one stuff. It’d cost her three day’s worth of ramen to buy, so it had to be pretty great, right?

Thirty minutes later, Megan had her answer. It was SO much better! She smelled like she’d splashed around in a vat of pure strawberry skeez! So this was how all the privileged bitches in bars smelled so good! Oh, and apparently her hair wasn’t sandpaper rough and heavy - it was light and fluffy! Hot damn, Megan could get used to this!

Something else she could get used to was the smell of pizza filling her apartment. She sucked in a deep lungfull of that sweet, greasy goodness as she strolled out of her bathroom wearing only her panties and a towel over her shoulders that barely covered her tits. “Oh shiiiiit, it’s here! Thanks for gettin’ that while I was takin’ so long! I didn’t know hot water could feel that good, heh~.”

“I simply obeyed the instructions that-”

“Just accept the thanks, Joy.”

The golem stopped speaking for a moment. She blinked. “...Understood. Thanks accepted.”

“Perfect~. Now then…” Megan strutted over to the kitchen table in her kitchen and flipped open the top box of pizza. Oh fuck her, that looked so good! A solid disc of cheese with olives, sausage, and… were those peppers? She fucking LOVED peppers! She didn’t know peppers could go on pizza! Hell yeah! Pizza was the BEST food! Time to dig in! Bone apple teeth!

Not bothering to use one of her newly bought plates, Megan picked up a cheesy slice, severed the strands holding it to the rest of the pizza with a finger, and took a massive bite. Ooooh, FUCK, she was in LOVE! “MMMPH, sho GOOD!” Megan moaned aloud. She swallowed and called over her shoulder, “Joy, get in here and get a taste of this! This is fuckin’ HEAVEN!”

“I’m not sure I understand,” came Joy’s typical soulless response as she entered the kitchen. “I have no data about how pizza correlates to heaven, angels, or any other celestial phenomena.”

“Not literally, you dingbat! Like, uh… figurly!” Megan took another greedy bite of her slice and moaned again.

“I believe you mean ‘figuratively’. Under that definition, it would imply that this pizza is akin to the residence of angels. Celestial, holy, on a higher plane, large, cloudy, bright-”

“I mean it’s DELICIOUS! Just eat some and you’ll see what I mean, dammit!”

Joy blinked. “I do not understand how ‘delicious’ correlates with ‘heaven’, but… understood. I will taste this pizza.” Joy watched as Megan finished off her first slice and immediately picked up a second. She then mimicked how Megan had picked it up, even using a finger to sever the lingering cheese strands. She raised it to her mouth, gave it a hesitant sniff, and then… took a bite.

Megan took a momentary break from her frenzy to watch Joy eat. The brunette golem chewed for a minute, eyes closed and seemingly lost in thought. Then she swallowed. The demon looked on expectedly as Joy opened her eyes. “Well?” She asked, “Whatcha think?”

“It is… unhealthy,” Joy said, staring down at the pizza. “It is extremely high in cholesterol, sodium, and trans fats. For a being with arteries and a digestive tract, such as you, consuming too much would inevitably lead to obesity and congestive heart failure.”

“Uh… that wasn’t what I-”

“For artificial constructs such as myself, however, factors such as nutritional content are irrelevant,” Joy continued, cutting Megan off for the first time ever. Good for her. “Texture, consistency, and taste are all satisfactory. Conclusion: it is delicious.”

Megan raised an eyebrow. “Well now, look at you! You’re still using a bunch of smart-ass words, but at least you can appreciate the one true good that is pizza! In that case, you can eat as much as you want!”

Joy looked down at the rest of the slice she was holding. Then back up at Megan, who was shoving half of her second slice into her mouth. “‘Want’ is a subjective term that is not defined within my core. You must instruct me on how much to-”

“‘ope!” Megan denied through a mouthful of cholesterol-y pizza. She swallowed, then said clearly. “Not happening! You’re showing some real good independence today, so I’m gonna force it! You gotta decide how much to eat! I’m not gonna tell you shit!”

Megan ignored Joy’s second attempt at codependency (she learned about that from a romcom) and set to work on scarfing down more pizza. It really was fucking amazing~. There was so much of it, too! Megan had never had so much food in her life! The most food she’d ever managed to get her hands on at one time was when a hostess truck had overturned on the highway and she’d shoveled as many boxes of Twinkies, Ho-ohs, Ding-Dongs, and fruit pies into the back of her car as she could before she got noticed. Gods, she’d eaten so much that her stomach had hurt for a whole day after. She’d even blacked out from the sugar crash and woken up to find that her tits didn’t fit her bra anymore.

Which was also a plus, ‘course. She’d never pulled as many saphs as she did back then with her plus-sized value menu on display~. She was kinda hopin’ that all this pizza would do the same thing. She could use a little help in the ol’ boobage department…

Megan picked up the pizza she was working on, along with another, and went into the living room to sit on her couch~. Then she picked up her remote to turn on her TV~. Fuck, she has so many THINGS now! And this was with ONE PAYDAY! She was already dreaming about what she was gonna do with the next hundred k! Maybe she’d get a sports car! Or that tattoo she’d been wanting! Hell, if this pizza didn’t go straight to her tits, then she could pay for NEW ones! She could buy it all, baby!

The demoness laughed while cramming another slice of pizza down her gullet. She flicked on the TV and flicked through the channels, looking for something funny and/or violent. She found a home videos show that was both. Perfect! She settled back into the couch cushion and happily turned her brain off. Pizza, TV, and a couch. What more could a basic bitch need? This was the life~.

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“Uuuugh… M-My gut… fuckin’ hurts… SO bad…”

Turns out, Megan wasn’t built to eat two entire large pizzas. She’d been pleasantly full after four slices. Seven slices left her feeling stuffed. The whole pizza made her feel heavy and gross. Now, three slices into her second pie, Megan felt like blowing chunks.

The gray-haired menace rolled onto her side and moaned while rubbing her glutted stomach. Shit, she looked like she’d swallowed a bowling ball from how bloated she was. It felt like it, too. She didn’t know a belly could even get this solid. She pounded her chest and let a fat belch rumble out of her. She sighed in satisfaction. That had helped her gut settle a little bit~. Now then, maybe she could fit just one more slice of pizza…

After a drink, though. Megan was just realizing how dry her throat was. All that grease must’ve been lubing it up earlier, but now that she’d taken a short break, shit was getting scratchy in there. She needed a drink from her fridge~.

Heh. Self-gloating about having stuff was never gonna get old.

Megan hauled herself to her feet, grimacing at how much tighter her gut felt after she’d stood up. Ok, maybe another slice was off the table after all. Maybe. She’d see after she got back with her beer-

“Jesus SHITTING Christ, what the fuck-!”

Megan froze in place after entering the kitchen. If the lack of gloating on ‘kitchen’ didn’t show how thrown off she was, then the way her eyes were nearly popping out of their sockets should. Still standing next to the kitchen table was Joy, who was helping herself to a slice of pizza. The latest of what was probably over thirty slices by now given how there were FOUR empty boxes arranged neatly in front of her. The fifth and final box didn’t have much left either - just three more tasty triangles were left.

Upon hearing Megan’s sudden screech, Joy turned to face her. As she did, the thing that had actually made the demon start wobbled and made an ominous gurgling sound. It was Joy’s gut. It was fucking HUGE! Seriously, if Megan has swallowed a bowling ball, then Joy had swallowed… uh… a bowling ball that was ten times too big! It was THAT big! Her damned hoodie didn’t even fully cover it anymore! A whole bunch of her sleek skin was showing from under the bottom of the hoodie, which was pulled tight across the bloated ball. It was clear where all the pizza had ended up. The only question was…

“Why the fuck did you eat so much!?”

Joy blinked. She tilted her head. “I don’t understand. I am only doing as you instructed.”

“What? Fuckin’ HOW!?” Megan moved beside Joy and grabbed her gut without thinking. Holy FUCK-TITS, this thing was still soft! Like, it had a hard center from all that solid food, but it felt like it still had plenty of room to grow. It was like a water balloon half-inflated with thick pudding! Don’t ask why Megan knew what that felt like. “I told you to eat ‘till you’d got all you wanted!”

“Correct. I am doing just that.”

Megan stared at Joy’s unflinching face. She looked down at the mega-belly between her hands. She looked back at Joy. She shook the mega-belly. It rumbled angrily. “How. Are. You. Not. Done. Yet??? You look like you’re preggers with fuckin’ octuplets! You look like you dine n’ dashed at every buffet in town! You look like a goldfish that all the other fish in the tank! Like, Jesus HELL, how do you still want MORE???”

“It’s simple.” Even as she spoke, Joy helped herself to another bite of pizza. She swallowed almost immediately, not bothering to chew. The hefty chunk of food visibly slid down her narrow throat before disappearing past her collarbone. Ok, not gonna lie, that was kinda hot. In a weird freaky sorta way, though. Joy cleared her throat, then continued, “I take a bite of pizza. After the bite descends my esophagus and into my stomach cavity, I run an analysis on my current state of being. Over the last week, I’ve taken note of several physiological reactions within my body that I’ve classified as being either positive or negative. After running the analysis on my body, I compare the list of positive and negative reactions to the analysis. Should the positives outnumber the negatives, I determine that I still ‘want’ more pizza, so I take another bite.”

The blank stare that came from Megan’s eyes was almost as blank as Joy’s usual expressions. “Uh.. right… so… what does that mean in idiot language?”

Joy closed her eyes for several seconds. Luckily, Megan had already had to define ‘idiot language’ for Joy, so she knew the drill. After thinking for a second, Joy reopened her eyes. “I let the pizza enter my stomach. I determine whether it felt good or bad compared to other things that have made me feel good or bad. If it still feels good, I eat more.”

“Ok, so… that means that… somehow… THIS-” Megan ran her hands all over Joy’s packed stomach. That felt kinda neat, actually. Soft and warm but heavy and solid. Not bad. She kept going, “-feels GOOD to you?”

“According to my recorded data, yes. Should I list all the physiological- ahem. All of the ‘good and bad feelings’ I am experiencing related to my ingestion of pizza?”

Megan probably shouldn’t care, but… she was getting kinda curious now about whatever this freaky magic-bot was thinking that led to this beauty of a gut. Also, Megan had mostly accepted that she thought this was kinda hot. Not, like, massive-tit hot, or whips-and-straps hot, but hot enough to get her through a bad date. That level of hot. She was no stranger to weird kinks, so hey- what was one more? At least this one was mostly safe. “You know what? Sure. Lay it on me.”

Joy nodded. “I shall start with negative- with ‘bad feelings’. I am experiencing a sizable lack of balance due to the large front-loaded weight. I will no longer be able to fit into appropriately-sized clothes. My pseudo-skin is expanding further than it was designed to expand and is being forced to expend excess energy to stay intact. My sensors are detecting that my stomach cavity is overfull and is sending signals to my core that I’ve eaten more than is socially required or acceptable.”

Joy took a moment to eat yet another bite of pizza. Lord below, Megan swore that she could feel that fat gut expand beneath her fucking fingers. Shit yeah. The golem continued, “Now for the good feelings. The lack of balance is causing me to experience the effects of dopamine. The inability to fit into conventional clothing is causing me to experience the effects of dopamine. My pseudo-skin being overstressed is causing me to experience the effects of dopamine. The-”

“Hold on, hold on-” Megan cut in. “Dopa… dopa… that sounds familiar. Isn’t that the brain juice that makes you happy or something?”

“...Put in the very most crude and inelegant form, yes.” Was it just Megan, or did Joy sound a little annoyed when she answered that? She was probably just overthinking it. Joy pushed on, “Strictly speaking, I am incapable of creating dopamine as I do not have a neurological system. However, my core was designed to be able to replicate the feeling of experiencing dopamine whenever I follow my master’s orders. In an unanticipated turn of events, it seems that I can experience the effects of dopamine under other circumstances as well.”

“Liiiiike when you stuff yourself stupid?”

“I would like to note that my intelligence has not suffered as a result of-”

“Not what I was trying to say! I think I get the general idea of things now~” Megan smiled coyly. She slid the hoodie up Joy’s belly, revealing the true scope of how big she’d gotten. A giant, smooth, wobbly blob of food. She glanced back up at Joy with a smirk. “You, my bloodless, brainless, heartless fool of a golem… have a fetish~.”

“A fetish? That term is familiar. It was defined to me as an inappropriate action performed by my master that results in their sexual pleasure.”

Megan frowned. “What? No. Fetishes are just weird things that get you horny. I get horny when I see chains and cat ears on anythin' but a cat, you get horny when you eat a truckload of food. It’s the same deal but with different… different… uh…”

“Stimuli?”

“Gesundheit. ANY-way…” Megan traced a finger along the upper curve of Joy’s belly, feeling some familiar tingles trickling through her own body. “Aren’t you getting any other feelings right now? Some other good feelings?”

Joy closed her eyes again. “Hmm… interesting. I am experiencing the programmed sensation of other hormones aside from dopamine. Increased tryptophan… serotonin… hmm, oxytocin and estrogen… my body seems to be replicating the hormones that would immediately predate inception.” She looked at Megan and instantly seemed to see the lack of understanding. “Yes. I am… horny, as you put it.”

“Awesome, glad to help you come to this understanding! SO, uh…” Megan trailed off, letting her hand slowly creep up Joy’s stomach. She so wanted this, but it felt so wrong to do it with someone that literally couldn’t say no to her. Still, if she could keep this sudden spurt of independence from Joy growing, then maybe… “Does your core or data or something, uh, say what you should do when you’re, uh… dating the guy from Inception?”

“I am assuming you mean when I am ‘horny’ and not referring to breeding with a man from something called ‘Inception’. If that is true, then yes. My core has been preloaded with how to pleasure others in the event that they become ‘horny’.”

“Cool, cool, cool cool cool cool cool…” Megan cleared her throat. Her fingers has slipped underneath Joy’s hoodie and were brushing against her bra, but without Joy saying herself that she wanted this… fuck, why was Megan an actual decent fucking PERSON!? UUUUGH… “Cool cool, so… do you, uh… want to… do that, then? Like, totally of your own choice, no prompting from me, just because you think it’d be cool to do?”

Whether or not Joy cared how close she was to getting groped, she wasn’t showing it. She just closed her eyes in thought once more. “It is difficult to tell as my data indicates what others should experience from being pleasured and not myself. However, if I compare the hormone analysis from those and compare them to my own experiences… then…”

Megan nodded hastily, urging her to go on. “Theeeeen…?”

Joy opened her eyes again. “Yes. It would very likely be a ‘good’ experience. That being the case, I would like to ask for your assistance in this matter, master.”

…Wow. That literally went from Megan believing that she’d be left feeling herself to thoughts of Joy’s hot gut to full-throttle go-time in zero seconds. Also, even though Joy’s flat tone had been totally uninviting, her word choice had sent a little chill up Megan’s spine. The demoness had always thought that roleplay was a chore that only succubi found fun, but maybe she could get behind this master thing…

“Sure thing, you kink machine. How do you wanna do this? I don’t want to force you to do anything by accident, so this is gonna be aaaaall up to you. Congrats on reaching sexual independence, by the by.”

Again, the lack of enthusiasm on Joy’s face was off-putting. What wasn’t off-putting, however, was the way she turned, picked Megan up (yes, like, literally picked her up), set her on the table, and wrapped her arms around the demoness. Holy FUCK, she could feel their bellies squeezing against each other! Megan’s was packed so tightly that the pressure made her feel like she was gonna pop, but that kinda excited her? And she was getting to feel just how full Joy really was despite how wobbly her belly still was! Holy bitch in a basket, maybe this was up there on the list of things Megan found hot!

Joy leaned in closer, words breathing cold air against Megan's heated lips. “As requested, I will decide what we shall do until I alleviate my ‘horniness’. In order to achieve this, you must do what I say from this point onward. Do you allow this?”

Since when did Joy know how to emote in her speech? For fuck’s SAKE! Not that Megan was put off or anything. Totally the opposite, actually… “Do whatever you want to me, Joy-toy. Prove to me that you weren’t built just to be a pretty face~.”

“As you wish, master.”