Rat Trap (NSFW)

King's eyes snapped open, his pupils darting around his field of view. He could feel himself being... pulled? Stretched? Something felt wrong, at any rate. He felt his heartrate quicken, his breaths coming out short and panicked.

He had no idea where he was.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Though the room was dark, he could make out the telltale signs of an old, musty cellar. He'd spent his fair share of nights in places like this, though usually of his own accord. Save for a few scattered crates, and a door he could only assume was locked, the room was empty.

He turned his gaze upwards, and found a thick rope, wrapped around one of the support beams in the ceiling. It traveled straight down to his wrists, held high above his head, tied together. His weight kept the rope taut, hanging him by his ams. He kicked his legs, and felt his peg leg barely scrape against the wooden floor. They'd hung him just barely low enough to make contact with the ground, if he strained himself.

King took a deep breath, trying to steady his breathing. He couldn't recall where he'd been before this. He could only assume he'd been trying to steal something, and some error along the way lead to him being caught. What he'd been after or how he failed, though, eluded him in the moment.

Turning his focus to himself, King found he still had his shirt and shorts, but his cloak, dagger, and pretty much all of his tools were gone. He wiggled his leg, and- yes! The lockpicks stashed in his peg leg were still there. Good. He gave himself just a moment to be proud of his secret hiding place, but it was just as quickly interrupted by the sound of the door being unlocked.

Thankfully, his captors had been kind enough to hang him up facing the door, so he wouldn't need to awkwardly shimmy around. The door opened on it's creaky, rusty hinges, and for just a moment the room was bathed in light. King reflexively squinted, but by the time his eyes could adjust, the door was closed behind them. He could barely make out the figure, beyond the fact they were taller than him. But, that hardly came as a surprise.

The figure strolled up to King, their boots thudding heavily on the wooden floor.

"So glad to see you awake, rat." He said, speaking in hushed whispers. "Here I was, worried the guard wouldn't know how to exercise a little, ah, self restraint. Would've been a shame to waste the effort tying up a corpse."

As they mentioned this, King suddenly became aware of a soreness across his body, bruises masked by his adrenaline making themselves known. Though he could barely see his captor, he could practically feel the sly, wiry grin creep onto the mans face.

"Who are yo-" King said, and promptly began coughing. He hadn't realized how hoarse his throat felt.

"Easy now, rat." The figure continued to whisper, kneeling down so they were roughly at eye level with King. "Don't you worry about that, now. Besides, you're the man of the hour, here."

King managed to catch his breath, wishing he had a free hand to rub his throat.

"... What an honor." He eventually choked out, glaring at the figure. "So, what now? Run a sword through me? Hand me to the guard? Leave me to starve?"

The figure stood up and laughed. A genuine, hearty laugh.

"Ah, no, no- quite the opposite, in fact. Make no mistake, rat, we know of your history, and my men are more than capable of stomping out a pathetic little vermin like you. If I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

They sauntered over to one of the crates, beginning to undo a latch and remove the top. King tried to make out any more details on the guy, but even with his eyes - used to the dark as they were - all he could gleam was a vague, humanoid shape. And a growing sense of dread, looming over him.

"In fact-" They continued. "I brought you here for what you might consider a reward."

The lid came open, and King's nostrils were flooded with the scent of... berries. Something sweet. Something, very familiar. He heard the mystery person scoop... something, with an audible sort of wet squelch, before their boots made their way back to him. He stood, and extended his hand to King. And at the end of his jacket sleeve, held loose, was a large slice of fruit pie. Juices and bits of fruit dribbled onto the persons ornately gloved hand, but they either didn't notice or didn't care. King's nose twitched. It smelled... very good. As if on cue, his stomach let out a quiet, hungry growl.

"Hungry, hm?" The figure asked, arm motionless. "Go on, it's all for you."

"... So that's your plan?" King asked. He cocked his head to the side just a bit. "You tie me up here until I get hungry, then... what, poison me with pie?"

The figure - still indecipherable beyond maybe the elbow - let out a sigh. It was tinged with annoyance.

"No, you repulsive little thing. I thought I'd made myself very clear-"

King blinked, and in a flash of movement, suddenly felt the sensation of a blade just barely pressed up to his throat. He could see the figure had both arms extended, now.

"Consider, that perhaps, I see more value in you alive, at least for now."

The blade slowly pulled back, and King felt tension drain from his clenched muscles.

"So? Enjoy yourself, rat."

King looked back down at the pie. Something about... all of this, was wrong. Horribly wrong. The fur on the back of his neck felt as thought it was standing on end. Still, he knew when he'd been beat - or, at least, didn't have any other way out. With undisguised concern he opened his mouth, grimacing.

The figure took the opportunity to gently shove the slice of pie straight into his open mouth, much to King's surprise. He sputtered slightly at the sudden introduction of so much food to his comparatively small maw. After the initial shock faded, though, his eyes widened. Warm, sweet, buttery pastry overwhelmed his senses. The room around him practically seemed to light up with color for the briefest of moments. By the time it faded, he realized his mouth was empty. He'd eaten the entire slice - and the now heavy feeling in his stomach all but confirmed it.

"Wonderful." The figure said, wiping their hand off on a handkerchief they produced. They began walking back to the crate, and King could see them rooting around in it.

"... Kudos to your chef," he said, licking his lips. "I still don't buy that that wasn't poisoned, but at least it was a damn good last meal."

"Last meal?" The figure said, returning. King saw them holding yet another slice of pie. "You still don't seem to understand what's going on here, do you?"

The pie was brought to his mouth yet again.

"Eat."

"... I mean. Sure, man, if you insist." King mumbled, not really sure what to make of the situation. He let the figure insert the mound of pastry and fruit into his mouth, gingerly chewing the mess before swallowing. It was still, very good pie. On instinct, he let out a contented sigh as the last of the slice vanished down his throat.

And, as before, the figure retreated to the crate, only to return momentarily with another slice. King stared at it, somewhat befuddled.

"... I'm full." He said, after a moment. "Thanks?? It's good pie, bud, but-"

"Really now?" The figure cut him off. "You, a Skitterling, turning down a free meal? I offer you indulgence your people only dream of, and you reject it?"

"I don't-" King scowled. "What is your fucking deal? Who captures a thief and just, gives them food?? Why can't you be like a normal rich fuck and just throw me in a cell or something?"

Another sigh.

"I will not ask nicely, again. Eat."

They pushed the slice closer to King's face, in emphasis.

King stared at it, before eventually letting out an exasperated sigh of his own.

"Fine. Sure. Whatever."

He once again opened his mouth, and felt the gloved hand slice the slice in. It fit the shape of his mouth surprisingly neatly, all things considered.

"Good, now, don't you see-"

The moment the hand pulled back enough, King swung his head forward, making a bit of a gagging noise as he spat the whole slice out. It fell between the two of them, landing with a 'splat' on the ground.

King could feel the figure's gaze land on him. He just looked back, letting a shitty smirk cross his face. For a minute, the two of them just stood there, staring at the other. King's grin faded, slowly, as the figure's gaze bored into him.

But, eventually, the figure turned back to the crate, retrieving another slice and then, back to King.

"What?" King asked, watching them. "You don't think I can do that aga-"

He didn't get the chance to finish. Moving faster than King had realized them capable of, the figure moved up to him and, in a smooth motion, grabbed his snout and forced his jaw open with a single hand, holding it open like someone might keep the pages of a book spread. There was no courtesy or gentleness, this time, as King felt the glob of sugar forcefully crammed into his mouth. A hand - the first? - then reached itself around his whole snout, forcing his jaw shut around the dessert, gripping with enough force to hurt. Finally, a hand pinched his nostrils shut.

It didn't take long for King to put 2 and 2 together. His lungs tried to draw in a breath, only to find his mouth full of pie and his nose closed off. The figure seemingly saw the realization come to him, King once again feeling it's grin from the shadows.

"What's that? You seemed so confident you could defy me again, vermin, where'd that go? Hm?"

King could feel his body begin to demand he take another breath.

"Don't be stupid. You know what the right answer is."

King paused, before hanging his head and chewing the pie in his mouth.

"There we go."

He swallowed, and felt the hands release, letting him gasp for breath. After a moment of sputtering and gasping, he looked back up at the figure, that feeling of dread returning with force. Somehow, they were already holding another slice up for him.

"Well?"

King wasn't sure exactly how long had passed, or how much pie he'd eaten. Every time he thought - surely this was the end of it, the hand would return with even more.

He hadn't tried rejecting it, again - at least for the start, it was just pie, and it was still good. Even after however much he'd been given, the taste hadn't numbed much. But, the taste was far from the only physical sensation going on.

His stomach, at first just 'full' from the first 2, 3 slices, had ballooned. His shirt rode up so his entire beachball gut hung down, dangling beneath him nearly to his knees, as he remained suspended from the ceiling. Every wiggle or movement made clear the sheer inertia of the damn thing, how massive he was becoming. He could feel his stomach, gurgling quietly as it did it's best to deal with the massive lump of food it found itself with. His lips were stained with fruit juices, some of which had dribbled down onto his shirt and exposed belly.

The figure, meanwhile, seemed hardly different. Their glove was more stained, and they made no attempt to clean it, anymore. But beyond that, they just kept bringing King more food. Handful after handful of sugary pastry, constantly more and more. They said very little, aside from the occasional 'good' or similar comment whenever King downed another slice. King, for his part, said nothing. Partly out of spite for whoever this was, partly from how fatigued he was feeling. He'd never imagined eating being something to tire him out, but here he was. Occasionally a weary groan would dribble from his lips, but that was about it.

The figure stepped forwards again, about to present King with yet more food - but paused. They looked down at King's engorged, hanging stomach with clear interest. Slowly, they brought out their other hand and grabbed on the underside of his belly, giving it a gentle jostle. King could feel the weight of his gut bobbing up and down, tugging on his torso.

"Wh-" King spoke, groggy. "What are you-"

He was cut off by the feeling of gas in his stomach, suddenly disturbed by a shift in cargo, burbling up through his throat and back out his mouth in a sudden burp.

"ghUUUurp. Ough."

It felt. A lot better than King would care to admit.

The figure seemed... amused? And continued playing with King's gut, both hands now squeezing and smooshing it, leaving trails of berry juice stains on his tan fur.

"Wh... Where do- huuurp- where do you get off, on th- urp- where do you get off on this, man?? bwUUrp. Ugh, fuck..."

The figure just laughed, continuing to fondle King's stomach. Eventually, it switched back to the pie again, and King found his break away from having his mouth stuffed full of food quickly over.

"Honestly." The figure said. "I'm impressed with you, rat. Never thought a scrawny thing like yourself could amount to this."

King was about to respond, but found a piece of pie jammed into his mouth before he could get a word in.

"I guess we'll just have to find your limit through trial and error then, hm? Or maybe we can just keep doing this forever..." King swallowed.

"P-please no..." He groaned.

"Oh? And what are you going to do about it, you bloated excuse for a rodent?" The figure punctuated that statement with another pat to King's belly, which....

Wait. Hang on. King looked down and, to his... various emotions, saw he was more than twice as big as a moment ago. Far beyond his knees, his belly looked like it threatened to scrape against the floor. He felt his legs resting against it's surface, slightly sinking into the furry blob. But, this couldn't be right. He hadn't been eating for... how long had he been here? Did he really lose track of that much time?? It all felt so blurry together, just nonstop gorging without really thinking about anything else. It felt-

He didn't let that thought finish, thankfully interrupted by another quiet burp. And, just as soon as that finished, more pie shoveled into his mouth. He barely even perceived the figure beyond a pair - sometimes more? - of hands, tirelessly cramming food down his throat and massaging his gut.

"Explain something to me-" The figure said, and King couldn't quite tell where it was speaking from. "You're enjoying yourself, right?"

King opened his mouth to speak, and promptly had it filled with pie. He felt a hand reach out from somewhere, stroking his enormous stomach.

"I put this all together for you, little vermin, because it's what you wanted. Why are you so hesitant?"

King barely managed to swallow the previous slice before another was shoved into his mouth.

"Oh well. I suppose it doesn't matter. We can keep doing this..."

King felt a hand from somewhere, gently caressing his thigh. He felt his eyelids drooping.

"I don't care if you somehow break loose and escape, even in the state you're in. You know as well as I you can't escape me. Not truly."

"Guh..." King groaned, managing to find a moment to actually say something. "N-no more..." He felt his eyelids fall further, the already dark room beginning to fade into blackness.

He could barely make out the figure kneel down in front of him again, and felt a gloved hand reach out and reach under his chin, and gently caress his face.

He felt another slice of pie shoved into his mouth, right before it all went black.

King's eyes snapped open.

He sat upright so quickly, he nearly slammed his head into a wooden beam above him. He flailed around a little before finally settling down, leaning back in...

In his hammock. He was lying in his hammock, which had been tucked into one of the tighter corners of the ship. He was on the ship. It was dark. It was night. He could faintly hear... Ino? Snoring on another deck. He looked down and found he was, normal. Normal size, no obscene engorged belly, just his normal self, lying in his hammock, a sheet thrown over himself for warmth.

He collapsed onto his back, letting out an exasperated sigh. The taste of pie was still somehow lingering on his tongue. He still felt sore - though now he remembered it was from a ship battle the crew had been involved in, the day before. He felt...

He felt...

Wait.

He sat back upright and, as if disarming a trap, gingerly lifted his sheet up. Underneath, he was greeted with the sight of his massive erection.

He stared for a moment, dumbfounded, before burying his head in his hands.

"What the fuck, man..."