Bird of Prey

Combative shouting echoed throughout the halls of Goetia Manor, marking the start of a new day. Octavia groaned as she tossed off her covers, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She combed back her head feathers and checked the time on her phone. It was an hour past noon, longer than she usually overslept, but losing track of time was easy when browsing the hell net.

Getting out of bed, she slipped on her pink dress, black shawl, leggings, boots and beanie. A pang of hunger shot through her, causing her to clutch her abdomen. She had long missed breakfast, and now her stomach saw fit to reprimand her. Quickly, she left her room for the kitchen, hoping some refrigerated bagged mice would alleviate the pain.

To her relief, her parent’s arguing momentarily settled down, allowing her to have her meal in peace. With a quick rip of the bag, she picked up a mouse by the tail and dropped it in her mouth. Swallowing it whole, her eyes bulged open as something immediately caught her attention. For whatever reason, that morning, eating the mouse felt more satisfying than any mouse she had eaten in the past. She didn’t think just appeasing her hunger alone would have given her such joy, and upon inspecting the bag, the mice were the typical sort her father usually bought. After finishing the rest of the bag, the pain in her stomach had subsided, but a curious fiery demand for more lingered where the mice now digested.

Pondering over what this new feeling could mean, Octavia’s concentration was soon broken as her dad waddled into the room. She grimaced as he entered into the kitchen sideways, grunting at the exertion of squeezing his blubbery belly and rear through the entryway. Over the past month, Prince Stolas had taken a strange obsession with overeating and becoming abundantly fat. She didn’t know why exactly it started happening, only that the particular day it did, her mother Stella was deviously happy. Afterwards, life seemed to carry on like normal, but now with her mother adding fat comparisons to her list of insults, and her father’s admiration over every inch of his growing figure.

“Good afternoon, Via,” said Stolas, heading over to the fridge. He wore his favorite crimson night robe more often throughout the day, possibly enjoying how it barely fit and how his meaty limbs, chest, and gut swelled through the gaps. “Are you feeling alright, my owlet? You slept longer than usual today.”

“I’m fine, dad.” Octavia ate a mouse from a new bag, figuring the heat in her stomach was nothing to worry about, and it would go away later in the day. “Did you do something with these mice?”

“Oh no, were they bad? I’ve been stocking up on so many lately, I probably mixed up some of the old ones with the fresh ones.”

“No, they’re not bad. Actually, these ones are…really good. Did you buy them somewhere different?”

“No, I didn’t,” Stolas raised an eyebrow, pulling a hulking steak from out of the fridge. “I ordered them from the same shop I always do.”

Octavia murmured with delight swallowing her last mouse. “Well, *mmm*, I don’t know why…but they’re very good. They had to have added something with them, because they were never this good before.”

“Really?” Stolas took his own bag of mice from the fridge, stuffing all three into his mouth, savoring them for a bit, and swallowing. His reaction was that of perplexity and disappointment, a direct contrast after he wolfed down his steak, grinning gleefully with a trickle of blood dripping down the corners of his lips. Licking them up, he wryly smiled at his daughter.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright, princess? You know…if you’re feeling…different today, you could tell me.”

“Stolas!”

“God damnit. Just one moment, princess.”

Lumbering and squeezing his way out the door, another raging argument once more ensued between Stolas and Stella. Heaving a sigh of frustration, Octavia took her earbuds from out of her shawl pocket, listening to music to drown out the shouting. All the sudden, she felt her stomach rumbling once more; the burning sensation inside of it was absent of pain, but grew more compelling, as if pulling her toward the fridge. She was shocked to still be hungry, when two bags of mice would have usually satisfied her. Now the urge to eat a more filling meal drove her to rise from her seat.

With her parents serving as background ambiance, even through her music, she wasn’t going to peacefully eat anything here. Instead, she searched through her phone for nearby places to eat. The selection of restaurants all looked appetizing, but one stood out above the rest; a quaint little ice cream stand her dad used to take her when she was younger, which had improved since then and sold meals other than dessert.

Not wanting to get involved with her parent’s arguing, Octavia pulled out a pen and notepad from one of the kitchen drawers. Her mother and father would argue for a good hour or so before she could even bother to tell him where she was going, so a note would have to do instead. She placed it on the center of the table before returning back to her room, gathering what money she needed to buy her food. Without a word to anyone, she exited through the manor gates, following the GPS map on her phone into the disheveled-treacherous arms of Imp City.

For being located in the Pride Ring of hell, the demons tasked with Imp City’s care had nothing to be proud of. The bricks that held together its impressively tall buildings were all cracked with age and abuse. The air was foul with musk from the litter in the streets and neglected garbage between alleyways. Chain link fences around private property were riddled with holes. Advertisements on billboards were faded and peeling off. Street signs, lamps, and traffic lights were cracked, bent, or both, with some not even working altogether. Overall, the city itself certainly reflected the status for the lowest class of demons that lived here.

As Octavia walked the fissured sidewalks, imps around her whispered comments over who she was, unused to seeing a Goetia walk the streets among the lowly commoners. She ignored them, keeping her attention on her phone as she cycled between her GPS and social media to pass the time. Her distraction caused her to overshoot a few intersections, making the trip longer than it had to be. Once her stomach’s rumbling became more frequent, she closed all other tabs on her phone, only focusing on the GPS.

With only a few more blocks to go, the owl demon licked her lips with excitement. Her walk led her into a dark neighborhood overshadowed by old buildings with shattered and boarded up windows. What looked to be a large warehouse stood between her and a straight shot to the ice cream shop. The GPS directed her in a long wrap around the surrounding buildings, yet she spotted a convenient alley that cut through the side of the warehouse. Hungry and wanting to get to her destination as quickly as possible, she knelt under a hole in a chain link fence and walked to the side of the warehouse.

The dark alley was littered with beer bottles and cigarette buds; not a sound stirred, save for an empty plastic bag tumbling from a breeze. The quietness unsettled Octavia, who picked up her pace as a result. Suddenly, she heard whispering coming from the building to her left; footsteps echoed within its dark halls, along with sinister chuckling growing ever closer. She broke into a run, her heart racing from the imminent danger. Before nearing the end of the alley, a group of imps pushed through the building’s exit door. Behind her, another group ran toward her accompanied by a burly black furred hellhound, who would make mince meat out of her father’s security. The imps laughed at her with glowing eyes and toothy grins, brandishing knives, clubs, chains and claws. The tallest of the group walked up to her, circling her while swinging a chain.

“Well-well, good afternoon your royal highness. What brings the little princess to our humble side of town?”

Octavia stood herself tall, taking a deep breath to regain her composure. “I was just cutting through here to get back to the city.”

“Oh, is that all? You sure you’re not lost? Maybe we can help?”

The other imps snickered. Octavia furrowed her eyes, staring back at the imp leader as he circled in front of her. “I don’t need your help, and I’m not lost. I have GPS.”

“Oooh, well did your GPS tell you you were walking into Jaris’ territory? Now, normally, I’m not very kind to strangers who walk in my backyard. But for a Goetia, I can make an exception.”

“Okay, so step aside and let me go.”

“And let you walk the rest of these dangerous streets? Nah, we can’t do that. How about we go back to my place and…give your dad a little call?”

“Forget it, I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m going back to the city.”

The imp gripped both sides of his chain, pulling it tightly. “I’m afraid, you ain’t got a choice, princess. Vincent, grab her and bag her.”

Before she could react, the burly hellhound wrapped his mighty arms around her body, lifting her off the ground. Octavia kicked and screamed, barely able to squirm an inch in the hound’s mighty arms. She gasped as a dirty burlap sack was tossed over her face, darkening her surroundings. Her arms were pulled behind her back, wrists tightening as something feeling like rope wrapped around them. After a short walk, she felt herself thrown onto a sheet of cold metal, and the sound of car doors closing behind her. The engine of a van started, and they were soon on the move. Breathing frantically within her bag, she wished she’d have waited for her father to have driven her. Even if he’d embarrass her with his gluttonous habits, she could use the comfort of his fatherly embrace right now.

* * * * *

After a short drive, Octavia felt the large hellhound toss her over his shoulders. As he walked, she could hear his footpaws stomping on old floorboards as they ascended some stairs. Hearing the door to a room open, she grunted upon feeling her back impact with a chair. Two imps quickly tied her arms behind the chair, along with her ankles tying to the chair’s legs.  They removed the bag from her head; her eyes squinted as they adjusted to the dimly lit room, with only a hanging lightbulb providing illumination. The rest of the imp crew left the room, leaving the owl demon alone with their leader, Jaris.

“Feeling comfy, princess,” said the imp, “sorry for the mess. We’re not used to catering to royalty around these parts.”

Octavia struggled with her bonds; the chair that held her was far too small for her tall frame. “Let me go!” Her piercing ruby eyes glared at him like daggers. “You’re so fucked when my dad finds out you kidnapped me!”

“That’s what I’m planning on, girly. No doubt he’d pay anything to get his kid back. So, you sit tight and wait here while I call daddy. You behave until then,” the imp pulled out a rusty looking knife, “otherwise I’ll mail daddy each of your digits one at a time until he pays up.”

Putting the knife back in his belt, the imp walked toward the exit, walked out, relayed instructions to the imp guarding the door, and shut the door behind him. Octavia waited until the sound of his boots dissipated down the hall. Wriggling her wrists, she angled her index digit toward the rope tying them together. Snapping her digits, a ghostly purple flame ignited from the tip, burning through the rope. Once it was partly eaten through, her wrists managed to break free, allowing her to undo the bonds around her ankles and stand up.

Relieved to be free, she searched all of her pockets, groaning with frustration at her phone having been taken. Unsure of how many guards were at the door, she searched the room for anything that might be able to help her fight them off. Aside from the sundry trash, the room was mostly empty, save for a dirty mattress in the corner, an empty dresser, and a cabinet whose drawers were filled with wads of dust.

Suddenly, her boot accidentally kicked what sounded like a metal pan. The resulting clangor caused the front door to swing open, with only a single guard imp standing at the door.

“Hey,” he shouted, tightening his grip around his bat.

He charged at her, winding up for a swing. Octavia quickly grabbed at the chair that once held her, turning her body for a counter swing. Her longer reach proved helpful as she swung at the imp with all her might, destroying the chair and leaving nothing but two planks in her grip. She threw the planks onto the floor, heart racing as she expected more imps to follow, but none came. Sighing with relief, she rushed to the door. Just as she was a foot away from the doorframe, her body froze in place as her stomach bellowed an ungodly row.

In all the excitement and stress of her kidnapping, she had forgotten about the fiery sensation in her stomach. As if compelled by some unseen force, she turned her head back to the imp lying unconscious on the floor. She stared at him with intensity, feeling the warmth in her stomach growing wild like a bonfire. His limp body looked more appealing to her by the second, like a vulture attracted to a fresh carcass. It was as if some repressed instinct had finally chosen today to surface, releasing her inner bird of prey.

She closed the door, her heart beating louder as she approached the imp. She picked him off the ground easily enough, repulsed by his appearance, yet tantalized by his helplessness. Her stomach rumbled, and her eyes began envisioning the imp as a giant version of the bagged mice her father loved so much. Licking her lips, she held the imp closer to her mouth. The smell was unpleasant, but upon her stomach grumbling one more time, she opened her beak and pushed him in.

Taking her first gulp, Octavia’s eyes bulged wide with shock, feeling the imp’s head immediately fill out her gullet. Though normally she’d panic for fear of choking, her fiery hunger gave her the courage to keep swallowing. As he slithered down her throat, a rush of euphoria surged through her, causing her down feathers to fluff up. A crooked grin creased across her lips. Her slender frame suddenly extended into a round orb after patting down the rest of the imp in her throat. Covering up a belch, she hooted with deep satisfaction.

“Oooh, fuck. He didn’t taste like much, but that felt so good.”

Licking her lips, she blushed after looking down at her distended stomach. Her small shirt partly rode up, exposing the charcoal colored plumage of her midsection. It was odd seeing herself with an actual rotund middle, as well as knowing she ate an entire imp whole. And yet, she felt invigorated by the act. From the imp bulging in her throat, to that final gulp and feeling of the imp shooting down into her stomach, she felt the thrill and joy of swallowing entire prey in every feather of her body. It was a curious feeling, one her father might even know something about. But before she could talk about it with him, she’d have to find her way out of this building.

Bashfully pulling her shirt down, Octavia returned to the front door. Looking left and right, the hallway was completely empty. With no clear indicator of what floor she was on or where the exits were, she chose to walk down the right side. The floor’s torn up carpet looked as if a cat demon had clawed up the entire hallway. Flickering lights made the hallway look longer than it really was, while the doors on either side of her appeared to duplicate. Every door was either locked or boarded up, giving her no choice but to push forward until finally spotting some type of exit.

Nearing the hallway corner, she heard footsteps and voices coming from the other side, growing louder with each second. The owl demon frantically fiddled with the knobs of unboarded doors around her before entering a small cleaning closet. Keeping the door open a crack, she waited for the imps to walk right past her.

As they drew closer, her stomach burbled like a growling canine. Mouthwatering thoughts flooded into her head, causing the fear of the situation to transform into gleeful anticipation. Looking down to her rotund belly, she licked her lips at the tantalizing idea. She opened the door just a crack further, readying herself for the moment they came into view.

Walking past the broom closet, the two imps were startled by Octavia yanking them away by the collars of their jackets. With an imp in each hand, she devoured them one at a time; the panicked screams of the first imp growing muffled as he entered her throat. The second imp watched in horror as the flickering light in the hall showed a slideshow of his fellow hellspawn halfway into the owl demon’s mouth. Her mirthful murmuring echoed within the enclosed space, and her ruby eyes greedily looked to him next, eyeing him like some delectable morsel. Upon slurping up the imp’s tail, she brought him up to her beak, and thrust him into the warm-gaping blackness.

Octavia leaned against the wall, clutching her enlarged gut with both hands. “*Bwoooorp*, god damn, that felt good. *Mmff*, they actually don’t, *hic*, taste half bad after all.”

She squished her beach ball of a belly, hooting with pleasure as her digits pressed into her layer of pudge. Her squirming prey provided a most pleasant inner massage, rubbing against her innards with the occasional kick, making her huff with delight. Her white mask flushed a bright red as her shirt now refused to conceal her fat belly. Likewise, her clothing felt more snug overall, forming a slight curvature throughout her once lanky body.

“What am I doing to myself?” She lifted her portly belly, sloppily grinning as it glorped when releasing it. “This looks so wrong…but…it feels so good. I’ve never felt this excited over eating anything. Wonder if it feels like this for dad?”

Poking her head out of the closet, the coast was clear for her to leave. Her feathers ruffled with embarrassment upon noticing her belly wedge between the doorway, forcing her to slip through sideways much like her dad. Turning the corner, she continued checking every door down the hall until reaching the very end. To her relief, the door to her left led to a stairwell, but her attention was mainly focused on the last room. Multiple voices could be heard from behind the door, causing her chest to well up with avid enthusiasm. Despite being beyond fed, the warmth in her stomach continued to goad her on, enticing her to dine on every last morsel made available to her.

Entering the room and closing the door, the other imps took notice of her. The ones on the couches called to the others in different rooms, totaling ten stalking their way up to her.

“Hey there little birdy,” hissed one of the imps. “Who let you out of your cage?”

“The fuck happened to her? Was she always that fat?”

“Wasn’t Trent supposed to be watching her?”

Grinning and licking her beak, she noticed a large wardrobe right beside the door. Circling around it, she pushed against it, using it to block the doorway. The other imps looked at each other with perplexity, chuckling at why she’d intentionally trap herself with them.

“Uh, are you stupid or something,” said one of the imps.

“She willingly trapped herself in here with us, haha.”

“And I thought these Goetias were supposed to be real smart.”

Octavia smirked, her red eyes glinting with covetous glee. “Oh, I’m not trapped in here with you.”

“What’s she talking about?”

“Ah, who cares. Just grab her and tie her up again before Jaris gets back.”

Two imps in front were the first to rush her, with the rest following suit shortly after. As soon as the first two imps came into reach, Octavia quickly snatched them off the ground, and immediately shoved one in her mouth. The confidence of the group instantly vanished as they watched him frantically kicking in the air and squirming in her gullet. Slurping up his tail, he became nothing but a wriggling bulge in her throat. With a final gulp, her stomach surged forward with a sickening glorp, wobbling as he struggled within its sweltering confines.

The imp in her other hand screamed for help before also getting stuffed in her mouth. Two others rushed to help him, grabbing him by both legs trying to pull him out. Consumed with gluttonous bliss, Octavia swallowed the second imp quicker than the first, squeezing the other two imps against her chest as she swallowed their arms. She murmured with ecstasy upon feeling her throat well up with two imps at once; their combined bulk forced her to crane her neck upward, using gravity to aid her. Pushing their legs to the back of her throat, she let out a pleasurable moan as her body grew as wide as the wardrobe behind her.

Bellowing a hearty belch, the remaining six imps scattered like cockroaches, searching for different places to hide. Octavia hooted in a laughing manner, amused by this new game of hide and seek. Taking a single step toward the kitchen, she huffed a breath at how much heavier she felt. Her shirt had completely ridden up to her chest, while her newly formed meaty love handles brushed aside her shawl. Her belly swayed from side to side when she walked, occasionally plopping against her now chunky thighs. Licking her beak and squishing her belly, she looked forward to seeing how the remaining imps would add to her size.

There was a childlike degree of satisfaction hunting her prey down, like winning a game and being rewarded with a treat at the end. She yanked two imps out of some kitchen cupboards, dangling them above her head before dropping them into her mouth. Hearing a commotion coming from the living room, she found an imp hiding under some couch cushions, and the other hiding inside the wardrobe. Squeezing her way through the bedroom door frame, she scoured the room, groaning from the exertion it took to look under the bed or above the tall dressers. Tapping her beak, she pondered where they might have gone, until a sudden sneeze came from the bed. She had already checked under the mattress, but noticed some cotton falling out of a long slit under the mattress itself. Sure enough, the last two imps were hidden inside, finishing her meal as she gobbled them up both simultaneously.

With thirteen imps all writhing and glorping in her belly, Octavia let out a triumphant moan of deep pleasure. The owl demon was thrice the bird she was before, having grown undeniably fat after such good eating. Her limbs had sizably chunked up, stretching both her dress and shawl’s sleeves, as well as her leggings, which now began ripping at the seams. Her white mask of a face was now squished between a pair of plush cheeks, while her once slender neck grew thick, forming a pair of rolls. Her belly impressed her the most, having grown wider than the wardrobe and hanging down over her hefty thighs. She arched her back to help carry it, groping its malleable plush and cooing with bliss. The weight of it caused her to bite her beak, her talons gently caressing the doughy curves of her thick waist sloping down to her ample hips.

“*Hic*, *uff*, how amazing,” she cooed, “now I get why dad loves being so fat, *hic*. It feels, *huff*, so delicious, *mmff*, carrying all this weight. Especially, *hic*, all this belly.”

Jutting her stomach outward, she attempted to lift as much as she could hold in her embrace. Its blubbery mass poured between her arms, jiggling as it bounced up and down. She blushed and huffed steamy breaths, feeling her gorge slosh around; their muffled cries could still be heard under her layer of fat and feathers. Releasing her belly, the impact against her thighs caused the rest of her body to momentarily jiggle. She rested her back against the wardrobe, heaving a content sigh.

“Oh, *hic*, yes. Dad has the right idea. This is the way to live, *hic*.”

*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*

“Hey! What the fuck? Oh, har har, real funny you assholes! Come on, move whatever the fuck that is out of the way! This shits gunna get cold!”

Bashing against the blocked doorway, an imp, accompanied by the delectable scent of hell fast food, was trying to push his way through. Octavia helped him out, her belly smushing against the wardrobe as she pushed it away.

“Sorry, *hic*, about that,” said the owl demon, “*mmff*, that smells good.”

“Yeah, well I waited twenty minutes to get you fuckers food, and I come back to you guys—.”

As he walked through the door, carrying a tower of greasy paper bags with both arms, he dropped everything at the monolithic sight of Octavia looming over him. He gasped at her enormity, barely managing to see her licking her beak past her swollen gut.

“I’ll make sure your friends get their food,” she said, giving her gut a hearty smack and wobble. “In the meantime, *hic*, you could join them while they wait.”

Grabbing him before he could escape, Octavia wolfed him down in seconds; the task of swallowing imps whole now felt as second nature to her as swallowing mice. She licked her digits before looking down at the multiple bags of food. Drool dripped down the corners of her beak upon smelling the charred flesh of a well cooked hellburger and fries. Despite feeling well glutted and well gorged, she saw no reason to let good food go to waste.

She carried all the bags over to the nearest couch, sitting in the center with a content sigh. Spreading apart her meaty legs, her corpulent gut filled in the gap, dropping past her knees. She murmured with ardent pleasure, relishing its heft pouring over her thighs. Her back nestled into the soft cushions, making up for half of the couch’s width.

Blithely, Octavia shoved an entire double cheeseburger into her mouth, pushing it to the back of her gullet with one digit. After swallowing whole entire imps, downing food whole became light work. Her now girthy neck was capable of gulping down multiple burgers at a time, along with buckets of fries that filled her mouth from cheek to cheek. She sloppily grinned at the decadent-greasy-sloppy taste of fast food, having taken it for granted after mostly eating food prepared by their family’s personal imp chefs. Its fattening contents caused her stomach to bubble with delight, gradually growing it into a bigger mound of wobbling lard.

Crushing the final empty bag and licking her hands of grease and salt, the owl demon’s stomach burbled with activity. The leggings around her thighs had torn apart, turning them into stockings around her mutton-like calves. Her arms likewise bulged through her dress and shawl sleeves, revealing a pair of chunky wings. Her face rested on a comfy nest of feathery flab where her neck had once been; cheeks as big as grapefruits squished against them, concealing a sloppy grin between the fat.

“*Bwooorp*, *mmm*, so good.” Octavia basked in her fat hedonistic glory, talons caressing her corpulent belly. “Being fat, *ooorp*, *guh*, feel so, *hic*, amazing. *Mmff*, I almost, *hmmff*, want to get, *hic*, even…fatter, hehe, *hic*.”

“You fucking dipshits! You let her get away!”

Suddenly, a violent kick to the door startled Octavia out of her hedonistic trance. The sound of a familiar voice echoed behind her, making the grin on her face grow even wider.

“Where the fuck is Trent? And why the hell…hey…where the shit is everyone?”

“*Hic*!”

Octavia groaned as she stood up from the couch, having to lean forward multiple times before her legs successfully helped her up. She was pleased to see the imp leader, Jaris, had brought his burly hellhound with him. After eating nothing but imps, the muscular canine looked a most appetizing meal.

“Princess? T-the fuck happened to you? Where the hell is my crew?”

“*Urp*, I’ve taken care of them,” Octavia patted her belly, “Trent wasn’t that tasty, *hic*, but your crew got better, *orp*, with each one. I should thank you, *hic*, for kidnapping me. It’s been a real, *mmff*, smorgasbord.”

Jaris grimaced as she played with her gut, watching it slosh about while she giggled and murmured. “Well I hope you’ve had your fun, because you’re as good as poultry.” He pulled out his rusty knife. “I haven’t called daddy yet, but I’ll be sure to send him your entrails when I gut you like a fish.”

“What, *hic*, with that little thing? It’ll take more than that, *hic*, to get through this stomach. Nah, what’s gunna happen is I’m walking out of here, *hic*, and you and your beefcake are coming with me.”

“Fat chance of that you fat bitch. Vincent, door.”

Shutting the door, the hellhound crushed the knob and pulled it out. Gritting his teeth, he tossed it in his mouth before chewing it up and swallowing.

Jaris toothily grinned. “Sick-em.”

Baring his teeth, the hellhound charged toward Octavia with open arms. Taken aback by his surprising speed, she had little time to react before he grabbed her in a bear hug, lifting her off the ground. With her swollen stomach squeezing against his broad chest, she squawked in pain, feeling her gorge pressuring her innards. Unable to move her arms and legs, she bit at his ear. He let her go as he yelped in pain, sending her reeling back to the back of the couch. Unleashing a bloodcurdling bark, the hellhound pounced at Octavia, tackling her to the otherside of the couch. Their combined weight crushed the front edge of the couch, sending the two of them crashing down to the floor. Octavia opened her mouth to wail in pain, when suddenly, she found Vincent’s muzzle conveniently fitting inside.

She wrapped her arms around the back of his head, hugging him tightly and taking her first gulp. Managing to swallow up to his ears, she gripped at his denim jacket, pulling him in with all her strength. The hellhound tried his best to pull himself away, but his head had already sunk deep in her throat; coupled with her own immense weight holding him down, being on top of her at such an awkward angle made it difficult to use his arms to pry her beak open, while still trying to push himself off of her. When he did, he sunk further down her gullet, until even his broad shoulder became enveloped by her widening cheeks.

The unbridled ecstasy of gobbling up such a massive meal caused Octavia’s eyes to flutter. She let loose a muffled wail as his broad body filled out her throat as if she were eating the couch. She winced in pain, yet wore a crooked smile, pleased by the wanton sensation of devouring such a massive meal. Her tightened dress and shawl had completely torn apart once he passed her puffed out chest. Swallowing down to his knees, her stomach exploded into a massive bed of fat. Her thighs swelled with blubber, and her calves ripped through what was left of her leggings. Even her footclaws burst through her boots, leaving the beanie on her head as her only article of clothing. Gulping down Vincent’s footpaws, the rest of him entered her gut with a deafening blorp, leaving Octavia to pant with exhaustion through half shut eyes.

“Uh…Vincent,” called Jaris, unable to see what happened on the other side of the couch; he only noticed the tip of an odd round object poking outward. “Everything…uh…alright?”

“*Oooogh*, it’s, *hic-hilp*, fan-*urff*-tastic!”

The imp gasped upon hearing Octavia’s voice. Fear trembled down his spine at the thunderous sound of sloshing and groaning from behind the couch. The Goetian princess glacially hauled herself to a standing position, arching her back till her upper body finally came into view. Her enormous belly poured onto the couch, flattening it completely as she leaned forward. Her round fat face crookedly grinned with dopey eyes that were drunk with glee. Her limbs were rich with fat, as well as her cheeks which became smothered by her feathery neck rolls.

“*Hic-hilp*, what a gorge,” the owl demon moaned, jutting out her belly and slowly waddling toward the imp; her gut lifting a foot off the floor. “*Buuuuraaap*, *ooh*, so huge. Your hellhound, *ooorp*, *mmff*, definitely, *huff*, tasted the best, *hic-hilp*, out of everyone.”

“S-s-stay back,” Jaris’ back pressed against the door, both of his shaky hands gripping the knife. “D-d-don’t come any c-c-closer.”

Octavia’s eyes glowed a bright red. Jaris yelped in pain, dropping his knife which now glowed a bright orange after being suddenly heated up.

“*Hic-hilp*, guess gorging myself, *oof*, has also, *urp*, made my powers…stronger. You still, *hic-hilp*, want to see my dad?” The imp trembled, taking a few seconds before shaking his head. “Oh come on, *hic-hilp*, I insist. I actually…can’t wait, *huff*, to show him, *uff*, how I, *hic-hilp*, made you all, *hoooorrp*, into belly fat, hehe, hahaha.”

Giddily laughing, she picked up the imp by his shoulders and shoved him down her gullet with smug satisfaction. Pressing her stomach against the door, its massive girth blew the broken door off of its hinges, along with parts of the doorframe. Wiggling her wide heft through the hole her belly made, she stomped back into the hall, covetously rubbing at her blubbery body. As a gaseous belch built up in her throat, she burped up an object along with it. With surprising reflex, she ended up catching her lost phone, which was now covered in moisture.

“Hehe, *hic-hilp*, gross.”

Octavia opened up her GPS to find her way back home. Seeing her previous directions still logged, she hooted with surprise at her ice cream restaurant only being one block away. Moaning as her stomach burbled, the thought of ice cream caused her beak to drool once more. Her free hand rubbed at her doughy stomach. The hungering fire that had been with her all day had long faded, doused by such a plethora of gluttony. Motivated by her own ravenous greed, she gave her belly a wobble. Cooing as it sloshed about, she waddled toward the stairwell, eager to finally satisfy her childhood cravings…with added proportions.

* * * * *

Prince Stolas anxiously waited in the kitchen for his daughter to return home. He knew the dangers of a Goetia going out into the seedy public of hell, and after barely finding Octavia’s note three hours after she left, he immediately assumed the worst. He sat hunched over the kitchen table, hands holding up his lush cheeks as he looked to the kitchen doorway. She had texted him over ten minutes ago asking for a ride, which he sent one of his imp servants to pick her up. She didn’t speak of what happened to her or why she didn’t answer her phone when he called earlier, only that she’d tell him when she arrived.

Nervously kicking his leg, he held his head downcast, saddened by the potential trauma she may have undergone being out in the city all alone. As he heard her voice from down the hall, he leapt from his seat. Stopping short of the door, his ears picked up the familiar sound of tar-like glorping and husky hiccups. He gasped at the sounds of guttural roiling echoing louder with each heavy stomp. Covering his mouth, he dreaded to witness his second biggest worry having come true.

Stolas’ feathers stood up as a mass of fleshy plumage spilled its way into the kitchen. Octavia let out a rapturous moan, pushing herself through the doorway with her belly dragging along the floor. Her body wobbled like jello after each hiccup, smothering together the rolls above her love handles, back, and neck lard. She made Stolas’ own fat figure chubby by comparison, growing such ample amounts of lard she nearly doubled him in every part of the body.

“*Hic-hilp*, hey dad.”

Stolas’ white mask grew a bright flustered crimson. “Via…dear…goodness…”

“Hehe, *hic-hilp*, I know, *uff*, I’m enormous. There was this, *hic-hilp*, gang of imps, you see. And I was, *huff*, so hungry. And they had this, *orp*, big ol hellhound. *Uff*, you should have seen it, dad. *Hic-hilp*, I ate them all, then…I ate at that one ice cream place…you and I used to go to. I didn’t know why, *hic-hilp*, you loved being fat so much. But now, *mmff*, I totally understand.”

“Oh dear, I was afraid this would happen. After you told me about the mice this morning, I dreaded to think this curse would fall upon you.”

“What curse? Those mice were just, *hic-hilp*, really good.”

“There was nothing different about them, dear. They’re the same old mice. You’ve been feeling a burning in your stomach today, haven’t you?”

Octavia leaned onto her gut, playfully patting it while wearing a sloppy grin. “Yeah, but it’s long gone now. I’ve taken, *hic-hilp*, care of it, hehe.”

“Well…you see…on your mother’s side of the family, certain family members develop a sort of…hunger, during their younger years. It’s like a sort of…instinct to hunt and feed; some type of primal lust that comes with being a bird of prey. It skipped your mother’s generation, but seems it has passed on to you. But don’t worry, there’s a family potion that can cure you of it. I’ll just have to ask your mother about—.”

“No, it’s fine, really.” She wobbled her gut and squished her cheek, gleefully smiling. “I actually enjoy it. Don’t think I would have, *hic-hilp*, gorged on all those imps if I didn’t have it. And that hellhound, *oooh*, that delicious hellhound, *hic-hilp*, mmm, wouldn’t I love to glut a couple more as big as him.”

Stolas bashfully averted his gaze, abashed by his daughter’s sloshing blubber. “B-but, Via? I understand…why you may enjoy so, b-but…are you certain you wish to be this…er…”

“Yes, *hic-hilp*, dad. You can say it. I adore being fat. And with this instinct, I’ll hopefully grow, *hic-hilp*, even fatter. So try and keep up, or you won’t be the fattest Goetia before long.”

Giving her belly a series of heavy smacks, the young owl turned herself back to the hallway, waddling along to her bedroom for a long rest. Stolas watched from behind as she swayed left to right, barely able to lift a haughty leg off the floor as it squished against her gut. Once she entered her room and closed the door behind her, Stolas returned to the cover of the empty kitchen. He undid the sash around his robe, revealing his own corpulent frame and clutching the sides of his gut with both hands. His down feathers fluffed up, flustered by how he barely managed to grope his own love handles while Octavia couldn’t even grab a quarter of her own. What had made him so proud and steamy now shocked him, knowing it pales in comparison to his own daughter’s size. As flattering as it was that she shared his enthusiasm for fat, her new predatory instinct might be something to worry about. He would have to keep a close eye on her, and work twice as hard to retain his proud title.