Kinktober Day 21: Fat Magical Creature
Added 2021-10-21 05:52:02 +0000 UTCThe Elf/Fae option won out in the poll for this particular prompt! Thanks to all of you who voted for the additional inspiration--it was really helpful.
Also was a little surprised to realize that I think this is only the... third? story with the "tiny woman eats regular sized food and gets huge" trope that I've written. And I somehow managed to make this one both science-y and magical!
Once this is up, there are officially only 10 Kinktober stories left! It'll be back to business as usual once November starts, with regular updates to my other ongoing stories and maybe a few shorts here and there if the mood (or a prompt) strikes. I'll also start a poll on November 1st where all of you can vote on which Kinktober stories you'd like to see rewritten with different-gendered characters.
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Semair had had a good run, she supposed. She had been a fairy of the fields since before the big people had started giving years numbers and names. She’d done her share of mischief, souring milk and stealing horses. When she’d been at her most powerful, she had even blighted some crops when one of the big people had insulted her by stopping their offerings after one of them insisted that was “just superstition.” That whole village had changed their tune quick after that.
Yes, not so long in the past, she’d been quite powerful, her and the rest of the little folk. There had been feasts and songs and dancing and excellent tricks played on the big people just for the fun of it. There were always a few foolish ones who ignored all the stories they’d been told and walked through fairy rings and followed will-o’-the-wisps against all reasonable judgement, only to end up the playthings of Semair and the others.
Time had worn on, though, and she was weak. The little folk had dwindled in power and number as the big people had built their cities and paved roads and done things to the air and land and water that made the little people wither, her included.
If she’d been at the height of her power still, this never would’ve happened. As it was, though, she had somehow been discovered by some of the big folk, and now she was trapped in a glass cage in a big, white room. They were studying her, writing notes and taking measurements. Her magic was so weak that she had no hope of escape. They would not bargain with her for her freedom or give her an opportunity to challenge them to a battle of riddles or rhyme, and pleading with her big yellow eyes seemed to get her nowhere.
The only good thing that could be said about these big people was that they were feeding her, at least. She hadn’t eaten properly in what felt like (and probably had been) decades. Fae food was nigh impossible to come by outside the fae courts, and Semair had never been the joining type. Sometimes mothers and grandmothers put out offerings, but a little bread and salt and milk didn’t last long, especially when it could be months and months before the next offering. There was wild food, too, but a little thing like her struggled to compete against birds and mice and badgers and the occasional housecat, especially without magic.
When they found her sleeping in a thatch of the clover she was named for, she had been just skin and bones. After just a week in her little glass box, she was beginning to look sleek and healthy once again. Her red hair, previously brittle from malnourishment, was growing in thick and healthy and long, creeping down toward her waist by the day. She had years and years of hunger to make up for, though, and she made sure the big people knew it.
Every time they handled her, she made it clear she wouldn’t cooperate with all their tests unless they made it worth her while. She discovered her favorite thing was chocolate. They would break huge hunks off a great big bar, bigger than her own head. Every bite was devastatingly sweet, and she would find herself licking the remnants off her palms. One of the big people—Dr. Ansbach, she said her name was—often gave her extra, or let her try other candies while she asked the little fairy questions and took notes. By the time she was set back in her box again, she’d have a belly bursting with gummy worms or caramel, swollen and aching as it digested all that rich human food. Her fae metabolism tended to burn off most of it, storing the excess calories as magical energy rather than fat, but with her magical abilities so atrophied, she started to notice she was getting plump rather fast.
With her being so small, and Dr. Ansbach being so generous, her figure began to rival that of any well-fed fae queen she’d ever seen. Her belly was generous, hanging out in the open over her grass-green skirt. The other people studying her chided Dr. Ansbach at first, but she shrugged, insisting that it made “the specimen” more docile. “From what she’s told us, she’s thousands of years old. What harm is a little Cadbury going to do?”
Soon, the other researchers began feeding her, too. She tasted deep-fried potatoes that came out of a crinkly plastic bag for the first time, and they even let her have soda, though they decided that was a mistake after she drank so much her belly swelled up to a size where she couldn’t even move until she’d burped up all the bubbles. Semair discovered that her overindulgence amused them, and watching her reactions as she tried different foods became a fun game in between their different tests and questionnaires.
They took photos of her regularly, and even let her see some. When she clapped her increasingly chubby hands to her round, heavy cheeks in shock at how big she’d become, the researchers all laughed. “Maybe we should put you on a diet,” they teased. But the little fairy had grown accustomed to having a full belly whenever she wanted, and given how much they were learning because of her (something about alternate dimensions and “alien life”—Semair didn’t much understand any of it), they were more than happy to satisfy her cravings. She would just have to knock on the glass to get someone’s attention, and minutes later would be biting into something tasty and filling.
She started to get more spoiled over time, until she was eating almost constantly if she wasn’t sleeping. Her belly still managed to swallow up most of her gains, pushing further outward and hanging lower all the time. The rest of her body was becoming similarly rounded, though, from her ridiculously fat posterior to the sagging breasts that tested the limits of the magically conforming halter top she wore. Her belly was so wide that from the front it overtook her hips and obscured most of her thighs, but she could feel how thick they were getting, too. Just waddling from one side of the glass cage to the other was getting more difficult by the day.
When they did take her out of the cage, they all remarked on how heavy she was. “It’s like lifting up a little boulder!” Dr. Ansbach commented, much to Semair’s annoyance. The doctor took to poking and prodding at her chub as she sat on the desk beside the doctor’s keyboard, pinching gently at her fat little arms and cheeks, marveling at her chubby feet and hands. “Have you ever seen a fairy as fat as you?” she asked after taking a photo and showing her.
Semair had not. The fairy she saw in the photo looked like an overstuffed creampuff, her enormous belly resting on the desktop and pooling in front of her, fat little legs curling around the sides of it since she could no longer sit cross-legged. She was impressed with herself. Weight wasn’t much of an issue among the fae since magic could overcome most any difficulty. The fae queens had tended toward plumpness, but that had been more about their personalities than any kind of hierarchy. Still, it took a powerful fairy to grow to the size she was now, given the amount of magic one would need to expend in order to do even the most basic tasks. Part of her knew her size had more to do with her greed and the big people’s overgenerous feeding than her abilities, but it was in her nature to think a little too highly of herself and give herself more credit than was due. Perhaps the humans had fed her, but it had to be because she was so charming she didn’t even need much magic to bend such silly people to her will. After seeing that photo, she began to think of herself as the most powerful fae creature who had ever lived. How else could she have grown so large, after all?
Her hubris only fueled her gluttony, and the researchers now treated her more like a pet than an integral part in proving the existence of parallel worlds. She had given them enough fae folklore to go on that they rarely needed to ask her questions or run tests anymore. Instead, they left piles of snacks near her and listened to her hungry little fairy mouth munching as they worked, sometimes sitting her down near their work stations, her pretty green eyes growing larger as she watched visual representations of their models flitting across the screen. They no longer worried about her running off or getting lost; she couldn’t even really explore much, considering she was having a harder time even standing up.
By the time they were certain they had a working, replicable model, Semair had grown too round and heavy to do even that. They let her try champagne when they celebrated, and giggled at the drunk little elf as she belched between gulps of liquid gold.
Dr. Ansbach took the fat little fae creature home with her once they’d sent in their first paper for peer review, realizing Semair needed somewhere more comfortable to stay than a glass cube that was getting much too cramped for her as she continued to grow. As if to make up for all the offerings she’d missed out on over the last century and a half, Ansbach started to mix in proper offerings of milk and salt and bread alongside the plethora of sugary, fatty snacks the elf had grown accustomed to. It was just in time, too, for the fairy started to feel her magic coming back just as her soft arms became to encumbered with pillowy fat for her to easily ferry food to her face. How convenient that she could now sit back on the lovely cushions Ansbach had provided and eat in comfort, without lifting a finger, and while watching all sorts of things on the television while Ansbach was away during the day.
So yes, she’d had a good run. Quite a good run. And her luck had not run out just yet. For there are always those willing to pay tribute to fairies if they can manage to be clever enough.