ROYAL REWARD: Man-Made Pie (Food TF)

Taberu’s stomach rumbled like a thunderstorm on a sweaty July afternoon. “Nyou know what?” she said. “I’m going to make a giant cherry pie.”

Hopping out of the seat of her saucer, she marched along the bridge with a frown. The only question was: how should she do it? Certainly, she had no shortage of options. She could simply zap someone, of course. Or she could zap multiple someones. Maybe she should even find a nice big building and zap the entire thing. 

But, for some reason, all these options failed to satiate her whimsy. No, what she wanted to do today was to make a giant pie herself. Cook it, that is, from the raw ingredients. 

Of course, that still raised the question of where she should get her ingredients…

Approaching the ship’s computer, she tapped away at the keys, and with one final click, the monitor snapped to life, producing a map of the innocent human city she was hovering over. After a second, it zoomed in. And in. And in, and in, and in, until at last it switched to a camera view of a street, where two girls in dark clothes were arguing.

“Fuck you, you fucking poser! Of course you’re not a real goth.” 

“I’m not the real goth? You think you’re the one who gets to decide that, you Hot Topic reject?”

“H-Hot Topic?! How dare you?!” 

Taberu’s mouth curled into a grin. Licking her lips, she activated the porter. 

*

In a flash, she arrived on Earth, her ninja-field shielding her from the cautious eyes of her would be ingredients. 

Approaching the goths (or goth and not-goth–she was simplifying for now), she slipped her hand into her cleavage and, after much rummaging around, managed to extract her pointer. Giving the slim yellow stick a quick shake, she spun it around her finger and took aim. Now, what should she start with…? Ah, yes… Chuckling, she licked her lips. The only way to make an omelette is to–

Smirking, she thrust her pointer forward. Its tip began to glow, and with a shriek, it launched a bolt of lightning at the unfortunate goth/not-goth pairing, who’d yet to notice she’d arrived, let alone what she was planning for them. 

“Fuck you! Of course you’re not a real goth! I been you’ve never once hung out in a cemetery listening to the deathcries of a dying swan at midnight!” 

“Oh yeah?! Well, I bet your favorite color isn’t actually black! I bet it’s mauve!” 

“You bitch! Nobody accuses me of liking mauve and gets away with it! I’m going to beat you to death with a–!”

Before Goth 2 could say exactly what she was planning to beat her counterpart to death with, the juicebolt crashed into both of them, and their argument quickly descended into a mess of scrabbling and screaming. Wrenched apart, the two flung their arms wide and hung there in the air, suspended and squealing as their bodies throbbed and pulsed with a strange new energy. 

The more modern-looking goth was the first to show the changes: with a pop, her stomach fattened into a plump, pale sphere, thicker than any pregnant woman’s, and continued to grow fast. 

With a rrrip, the traditional goth’s dress tore, revealing her own swelling midriff. Soon, it was as large as her counterparts and growing fast. Moaning, their eyes wide and their skin sweaty, the two could only groan as their stomaches reached their curves, lifting them as they grew. Their outfits squeaked, threatening to rip, as their bloating bodies filled them.

“Nnnn! Oh Mom, help us! Nnnnn!” 

Taberu smirked.  Time to speed things up a little. She twisted her pen. 

The beam wavered, and with a fresh scream from the goth(s), their transformation picked up the pace, their stomaches assuming a more ovoid shape as they grew. Warped above them, the two could only squeal even louder. 

“What’s happening to us?!” cried the more modern goth, as her skin assumed a slightly darker, more speckled tone. She wasn’t alone: soon, both girls looked as if they’d spent more time in the sun than they normally would in a year. As their skin changed its color, it also seemed to change its texture, becoming hard to the touch and suspiciously shell-like. The two moaned as their faces finally froze, silencing their protests for good. 

Their stomaches continued to grow though, stretching their clothing and, when it finally refused to take any more punishment, tearing right through it. By now, the ovoid shapes of their swollen guts had consumed the majority of their bodies, lifting their boobs and pushing down their buttcheeks and leaving their arms and legs spread even wider than they had been to start. 

Not that they would stay that way for long. Even now, as Taberu watched with a look of growing amusement, the pair’s limbs sank into their flesh, upper arms and legs sucked in first, like boots sinking into mud. They were already halfway in, and so didn’t have far to go, not that it took their lower arms and legs much longer. Soon, only their hands and feet remained sticking out of the shell, their fingers and toes wiggling feebly.

For a handful of seconds, the pair retained these last few vestiges of their humanity, sticking out of their shells as if pressed through cloth: faces, frozen in masks of terror; breasts, exposed with nipples erect, freed of bras that had long since snapped; hands and feet, their fingers and toes still wiggling ever so slightly, until at last even they hardened and ceased to move too. For a second or two more, these little remnants sat in place on their shells, fixed and unmoving. And then, at last, they sank and were gone as well. 

And all that remained of the goths–if they were goths–were two gigantic eggs, each wrapped in the remnants of a slightly different outfit. 

Tabby lowered her pen, killing the beam with a zzzzip. “Purrfect,” she said, approaching with a grin. Wrapping her arms around them, she stroked them and giggled, enjoying the cries for help and moans of terror emanating from inside. “Mmm~, nyou two are going to be delicious. Nyow I just nyeed to find the rest of my ingredients…”