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The witch found themselves oddly hungry these days.
Usually, casting spells was as easy as breathing. The wands felt like an extension of their arm, and so did the magic that flowed easily and freely from them. It was only after a brutal fight with some old god or an intense back-and-forth with a horde of enemies that any sort of fatigue would make itself known, and even then, the fatigue was usually gone as soon as they took a few minutes to rest.
These caves, however, were another story. Down here, magic was stubborn. It dragged at their veins and sapped their strength at every opportunity. Casting it was like pushing boulders uphill. Each small skirmish was enough to leave them exhausted and trembling, absolutely spent from the effort of dragging that magic forth, body desperately craving more energy. Their rations—which were supposed to have lasted them weeks down here—were gone in a number of days from the intense strain on their body. Now, hunger clawed at their insides. There was no way they could go on like this; as it was, they might not even make it back out alive.
This was how they found themselves after a particularly nasty skirmish with a group of Hiisi. In a burst of light and magic, the last of them fell dead at the witch’s feet. Their legs were trembling so badly that they could hardly stand, an intense hunger hollowing their midsection as their body begged for more fuel. They would eat anything at this point, anything at all, just to make that weakness go away…!
Their eyes settled on the corpse at their feet. It was humanoid, flesh and blood, still fresh and untainted by the various poisons and toxins around them. Its blood was splattered all around, filling the air with a heavy scent of iron.
The sight made the witch’s mouth water and their stomach ache with hunger.
Surely… not? Surely they weren’t hungry enough to resort to eating this?
They had to swallow the saliva pooling in their mouth. The hunger was intense, unlike anything they had ever known before. The flesh before them looked so appetizing, so warm and fresh. This is a survival situation , they told themselves. It isn’t ideal, but… Even if it kills me, it’s still better than starving to death down here. Anyone would do this in my situation. I have to.
The first bite nearly made them throw up the random plant roughage they’d choked down a while back in desperation. By the second bite some sort of wild, uncontrollable instinct had kicked in and it no longer repulsed them. By the third bite, it was practically delicious. The witch sank their sharp teeth into the tough meat with relish and shook their head to tear larger chunks free.
This was what their body was designed to eat, wasn’t it? Why shouldn’t they indulge? It wasn’t customary for their kind to eat raw meat like this, not anymore and especially not of fellow humanoids, but something about the taboo of it made it all the more enticing. Bite after bite went down with an almost feverish desperation. They picked the bones clean of the first Hiisi and moved on to the next with hardly a beat of hesitation.
By now, they could feel that their stomach was packed full and tight. Every so often a shiver would work its way across the tightly stretched skin, sensitive against the rough fabric of their robes. The witch couldn’t remember the last time they’d been so full, maybe never. As the second Hiisi corpse vanished, they felt massive, stuffed beyond all comprehension. They ran their fingers along the hard packed dome of their midsection and hissed at the sensation.
As grotesque as this all was, something about this had heat pooling between their legs. Their heart rabbited in their chest from the wild depravity of it all. This would surely kill them, it was unimaginably stupid to be indulging like this in such a dangerous place, and yet the allure was strong. They had never been so hungry before. They had never been so full. They whined in need, a combination of hunger and horniness unlike anything they’d experienced.
Despite it all, the hunger hadn’t gone away. Even though the witch could feel their belt digging into the bulge of their stomach, could feel the way their body was struggling to contain the heavy mass of flesh settled like a rock in their core, that hunger still persisted. It was insidious. It was overpowering. It was everything.
Eating had only made it worse. Desperate now, they surged to their feet and searched for something else. The scent of the blood was driving them wild as they hunted in search of another victim.
Monster after monster fell to their magic. An entire nest of hämis fell in a flurry of sparks and wet spurts of blood. They stood in the midst of the carnage, chest heaving, saliva dripping from their mouth and blood spattering their robes.
With a strangled sound they grabbed one of the little beasts by its toothpick legs and tore into it. Bite after bite, body after body, all were consumed. Each swallow was harder than the last as every available molecule of space was crammed with flesh. They lost track of how many they forced into their hungry mouth, only stopping once there were simply no more morsels to fit inside.
The witch moaned in agony. Their lungs felt small and compressed. Their stomach was like a boulder, heavy and compact and dense, pushing their organs out of place. It bulged out of the front of their robes as if they were months pregnant, grotesque and swollen and huge. They ran their hands along it idly as they struggled for breath and fought back the waves of nausea flowing through them.
By now it was getting harder to move around. Their stomach was a heavy, distended thing weighing them down. It was hard to breathe, much less walk, and so the witch waddled awkwardly along the tunnels with one hand cradling their stomach and one pressed up against the wall for support. Even now they hungered. It was agonizing. It was somehow worse than ever before, even with so much food inside them.
A corpse tumbled down from somewhere above, slain by an unseen foe in a higher cavern. It smashed to the ground with a wet thud just as the witch walked by. Sickly green flesh oozed a toxic green fluid out onto the soil. The witch’s mouth watered. Please, not this, they begged, but the hunger persisted.
They fell to their knees, awkward with the weight in their stomach. Without even a moment of hesitation they tore into the slimy meat with their claws and leaned forward to take great bites with their teeth. The foul meat bubbled on its way down before settling like a rock in the witch’s stomach.
It wasn’t until a few bites later that the witch noticed anything amiss. A sudden rumble worked its way through their body and caused a sharp pain to lance through their midsection. Their stomach, already impossibly tight, somehow felt tighter. There was a strange sizzling inside. They could feel their stomach and intestines filling with the gasses being produced from the reactions between the slimy meat and their stomach contents. The strain built, and built, and the pain was unimaginable, and yet—!
They couldn’t stop eating.
It was like an unknown force had taken control of their rationality. It was like an unseen hand was guiding their own to force thousands upon thousands of calories worth of food into their straining, stretching body. The belt of their robes was cutting into their bloated midsection in earnest. They gasped for air between each frantic bite.
This couldn’t go on forever. Their body simply couldn’t take it. The discomfort had morphed into a burning pain landing across every inch of skin on their midsection. Their skin felt paper thin and overstretched.
They had to stop eating. It was too much! They couldn’t take any more! This would kill them!
Desperately they tried to pull away. Their hands kept moving, kept cramming the rancid flesh into their drooling, blood spattered maw with ever increasing speed and desperation. Finally it was too much; their abdomen had bloated so large and round that it pressed firmly against the ground in front of them, heavy and solid. All it took was one slightly-too-aggressive tearing motion and suddenly they were unbalanced, toppling backwards onto their back and pinned underneath the weight of their massively bloated midsection.
The witch tried to squirm upright, but found that they were trapped. Even now, they were drooling and their hands were desperately reaching for more meat, but the sheer volume of their stomach wouldn’t let them. At last! Finally, they had stopped eating!
But it wasn’t really over, not yet; a steady sizzling was still emanating from their stomach. The bloating wasn’t done, as there were still countless pounds of slimy meat reacting in their heavy gut.
Larger and larger they swelled. The pressure mounted again, and now the witch had nothing to distract them from it. They cradled their massive stomach in agony. It was so big around by now that they couldn’t reach around it. Their belt dug in deeply, painfully tight, but they simply couldn’t reach far enough to undo it.
Thankfully, they didn’t have to. Their belt, straining and fraying, finally snapped from the pressure. The relief was unimaginable, but brief. Now without any resistance holding them back, it only took moments for the gasses to build up again.
The witch moaned. Their robes were creaking, moments from ripping. Their skin was twinging with electric pain, stretched thin. The warmth between their legs had intensified into a desperate, needy ache, but they were too full to reach it.
It disturbed and disgusted them how erotic this was. Here they were, helplessly pinned and in terrible danger because of the weight of their unimaginably fat and swollen stomach. They felt like a broodmother swollen with eggs, so lush and pampered that it would never move again. The thought made them whine with need and squirm, desperate for any friction between their legs.
Even this wasn’t enough of a distraction from the pain, however. It was only mounting as they grew, and as durable as the witch knew their species was, it was only so long before they reached their breaking point.
Their robes reached that point first. With a final agonized creak, a long tear ripped along the widest part of their stomach. Their massive belly poked through, glistening slightly as the skin was shiny and strained. Their normally purplish-gray skin was mottled with patches of a deeper, agonized red and countless tiny stripes where their skin had stretched too much too quickly. Their patches of thin, silvery fur looked especially sparse from how thinly they had been stretched. The witch touched the patch of bare skin with trembling fingers, only to keen in agony and arousal from the feeling against their sensitive skin.
The sound made the witch wince. If anything was nearby it certainly heard that. Panting, they clutched their wand more tightly in their hands and cast around with anxious eyes. They no longer felt like they might survive this, not now, not when they were helpless and round.
A moment later they were incapacitated again as a fresh wave of agony coursed through them. They could see their stomach swelling in real time, slowly and inexorably, rising higher and higher. They could barely breathe at this point, lungs crammed tight from the force of all of that heavy meat and gas. Surely they must be reaching some kind of breaking point. Surely this couldn’t go on forever?
They were right. Only a handful of moments later, a sickly rumble worked its way through their body. The agony intensified into a burning, tearing stretch, until—
A monster wandering through the caves would stumble across this cavern later and find nothing more than a steaming crater splattered with viscera.