Tales of Mistress Vice (A series of expansion short stories)

Glutton's Bet

Shar was always bad at gambling, that much was known to everyone but herself. Paired with her belief that she could overcome any obstacle through sheer bullheadedness it was a combination bound to catch up with her. This world for all its oddities held treasures waiting to be seen, one of which lay with the elusive Mistress Vice. A bet had been made by Shar in exchange for control over one of the mysterious entities ringed cities and it was a bet she apparently lost. Waking in a fine inn room she groaned, adjusting to the light of the arcane overheads, shining down with a soft luminous glow. She had no recollection of the night before, vaguely recalling a great hall and a woman sitting at the end, her face always within the shadows, her radiance and attraction intoxicating when looked at straight on. Sitting up, the first thing she could see was that her clothes had been changed, for where leather armory and bits of steel plate to guard her vitals once were not sat a skin tight one piece under large poofy red pants. The black of of it had left no thought of imagination to her sleek frame, the soft unnaturally stretchy fabric hugging her supple breasts well. The outfit was not what she had expected, but she knew it was the price she paid when she played her game, the thing was she didn't know the cost of losing, or if she could try again.

Moving away from the bed she stopped at a body-length mirror taking time to observe further changes beyond just her clothes. Her hair once long and luscious brown was now a soft shade of blue, her eyes now a dark shade of red but her face untouched and sharp. She had been in some form altered by the Mistress, but nothing of much concern. She had heard of worse shows of power and even that the Mistress was big into making women larger, some who returned nearly twice their original size. She imagined herself like one of those women, her ass rapidly growing, tearing away the fabric as her breasts bulged and pushed beyond believed limits. Or worse yet the idea of something more personal, the idea of being filled and fattened, her own gluttony destroying her self-control as she widened and grew. Placing a hand on her belly she shook the thought realizing her price would have surely never been so. Shar was not gluttonous and the Mistress while showing signs of 2 preferred vices would punish Shar according to her vice of greed.

Pressing to the door, Shar gave it a good tug, finding it to open with ease, the sight of a long decorated hall greeting her along with the sweet aroma of wine. Taking one look back at the room Shar moved through her bare feet slapping cold marble flooring her eyes setting on each and every erotic painting that lined the wall. Hearing her stomach growl she placed a hand back to her belly the thought once more breaching through. She hadn't eaten in some time, but the thought of the Mistress and her unusual punishments permeated her mind. With thoughts of a chubbier her, she found herself within a great room, her vision blocked by a domineering blackness.

All around voices and whispers emanated from the room as she pushed further in, each holding an eagerness in their tone, but none ever speaking words she could discern. Eventually, the end of a table came into view, carvings along its face depicting something Shar could not make out for her eyes set upon the single golden platter. Adorned with a silver chalice of wine and small cuts of meat she felt her stomach growl once more, a deep hunger gripping her, the voices hushing in the sound of her rumbling belly. Hesitant Shar thought of backing away, of running and trying to escape, but to where? She could not tell the way forward and back leading to nothing but a room with no escape. Greater and greater her hunger grew eye senses unable to leave the platter. She hadn't eaten since her meeting with the Mistress, hadn't a bite or a fine drink. Slowly she began to reason her suspicions away, she was a guest and surely someone special to be able to find the Mistress. The clothes were merely a gift, the change in hair and eyes a way to give her something new as even she couldn't deny she liked the look. This while ominous was just how the Mistress did everything, she was an aberrant after all, a creature whose purpose and existence were far stranger than her own. It was all she needed to convince herself, taking the chalice she took a dainty sip, the sweet nectar from within touching her lips and taking hold of her in a way she never experienced.