Ritualistic Snacking

And here is this month's work done this time around for Keepe!!!

It is one thing to know the theory, and it was another to have experience.

Chelle was a Liger that had been working as an apprentice, and an employee, to a witch and apothecary for a few years at this point. He had picked up the working knowledge needed in order to advise customers in the esoteric arts in his employer’s absence. However, the Liger had not partaken in any of the rites and rituals that he found himself recommending for on a daily basis As such, it would only be natural to feel the urge to remedy this, to practice what he preached.

It was a simple idea for a ritual. There were no deities being invoked, no entities that would possibly come storming in through Creep Central, Appalachia. It was a rite meant only to put an intention out into the universe, a basic idea that would be suitable for any beginner to such things. The setup itself was only two components steep, consisting of a small dish of honey and a white candle. The basic intent, the fundamental premise, was only to encourage sweet things to come Chelle’s way. It was a good method of stepping into the shallow end of the pool, and this was where he was intending to stay.

The candle melted down, wax spreading slowly into it’s disposable glass in a translucent white pool. His employer preferred to keep melted candles on her altar, but the Liger had no intention of setting up something like that just yet. An altar over which to invoke and perform spellcraft was an idea he’d need to discuss with the boss later. Small steps, baby steps.

His sea-green eyes watched over the flame, his thoughts focusing on the intent he was trying to get across. There were no abnormalities in the gentle sway of the ember reflecting over the melted wax, which was a good sign to his knowledge. It was usually when a candle like this started to blacken the glass it was held in where it signified something concerning. Here, it was a clean burn from start to finish, the rite running it’s course as the fire would eventually snuff in a gentle sweet-scented wisp of smoke.

What the Liger hadn’t been counting on was for the little beginner rite to take his intent quite so literally.

The moment Chelle’s attention turned away, there was a soft popping sensation. A shift in the air, as though a steady pressure that he had always felt had suddenly changed, leaving him with a primal feeling of wrongness. There was a shift of- Something. Not entirely motion, so much as something in the corner of his eye being where the Liger knew it shouldn’t be, drawing his attention back to the ritual that had been laid out so cleanly. Seeing the change, his jaw dropped.

Resting where the small saucer of honey once had was a large silvery platter. The surface of this metal had an odd sheen, it reflected the light in a strange hue that he couldn’t quite place. What was being presented on this oddly mysterious tray was a towering darkly frosted cake. The scent of this sudden dessert hit Chelle’s nose like a freight train. Rich creamy chocolates mingling in harmony with an odd slightly savory aroma, along with enough sweet scents to put most healthy beings into diabetic shock.

He stared, confused and more than a little curious. It wasn’t often a cornucopia of delicious and fattening treats just plopped themselves down on one’s table as if by magic. The Liger debated briefly on taking a taste before shrugging and letting out a soft sigh. It was better to just dismiss the overall strangeness of this situation. He had work tomorrow and, while living paycheck to paycheck, it was usually better to stop worrying about the weird in order to focus more on what was more immediately of concern. This cake, for example, could not be left out as he had to go to bed soon. If the feline didn’t take care of this, the sweet treat would attract ants. Which would, in turn, make life more difficult. And thus, Chelle resolved to stuff this cake in the refrigerator, and figure out what to do with the tasty delicacy later.

A quick application of plastic wrap later, the tall Liger was focusing on making space in his fridge, moving some milk here, some meat there. It was a time-honored tradition of Food Tetris that required the utmost attention. Behind the feline, there was a shift. Above the empty glass candle holder, a purple flame flickered into existence. Floating in the air, shivering and swaying with subtle movements of an unseen breeze. A fluid seemed to ooze up from the wood of the table, like blood welling up from a wound. A circle formed, indecipherable scribbles and symbols noted around the loop. The eldritch purple fire flared up as that feeling of pressure shifting returned in the room with a soft pop of the ears, finally drawing the Liger’s focus from the refrigerator.

 

“Hello there!”

 

It was a deep feminine voice, a massive figure sprawling out comfortably across the table top as she stared at the shocked Liger across the kitchen. Well, ‘Stared’ was not really the correct word. This enormous turquoise-skinned woman very specifically lacked a face, her skull covered by a blank patch of skin broken only by a pair of dark lips twisting into a wide smile. None the less, Chelle couldn’t help but feel like she was very intentionally watching him.

“I- erm.” The feline stammered, head flooded with thoughts, trying to figure out how this creature had sidled it’s way into his home without him noticing, trying to puzzle out exactly what this woman even was. His eyes were drawn to the hair that seemed to float about her head as if underwater, dark as a gash through reality to let one peek at the void beyond the veil. “I don’t have… anything to rob, Miss.”

She laughed. It was an oddly soothing sound, like water rushing over the stones in a babbling brook. The table under her creaked as she shifted her weight, moving off of the furniture to stand to her full height, giving the Liger a far better view of this intruder. Her arms, legs, and shoulders were covered in an odd purple plating inset with smooth glowing bits that the feline had no clue to the purpose of. A chitinous growth that served to protect this woman’s extremities. Meanwhile, the rest of her was fully nude. Explicitly so. Heavy breasts capped with plump darkened nipples, groin crowned with a patch of fluff.

“I’m not much for robbing.” That deep feminine tone cooed as the woman moved towards Chelle, her blank face focusing on the feline. “But! Strangest thing, I had a cake in my hands, I was planning on bringing it out to enjoy, and then suddenly… Poof! It was gone! A skinny kitten like you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Chelle blinked, leaning away to create just a bit more space between himself and this woman. This whole ordeal was uncomfortable. He stammered and trembled, long fluffy tail flicking in anxiety, ears folding back.

“I-I didn’t… exactly mean to take your cake, ma’am-”

“Ah ah.” The woman chided gently, that smile never leaving her dark lips. “Name’s Olga. None of that Ma’am nonsense.”

“… I d-didn’t mean to take anything of yours, Olga. I wrapped up the cake, thing, and was about to put it away so ants didn’t… eat it?” Chelle didn’t even know what to say in this situation. It seemed so surreal, so beyond the scope of anything that could be expected, that his brain was permanently buffering as it tried to work this out.

“How sweet.” The woman named Olga hummed, reaching past the feline to lift the platter up out of the fridge, nudging the door shut and holding up the dessert between the two. “You mean to tell me… A skinny, bony, underfed babe like you was able to avoid taking what wasn’t yours~? I feel like that is something deserving of a reward, don’t you?”

Chelle looked down over his form, frowning. Yeah, sure, he was of a lithe build, but most felines he knew were, especially around his age. Bony, underfed, and skinny seemed to be a bit of a stretch.

“No, no, that’s really okay ma’- erm. Olga.” The feline really just wanted this interaction to be over and done with. This was a perfectly reasonable response considering he was more or less facing down some form of eldritch creature. “I am sorry that I managed to take your cake, it was my mistake. I promise it won’t happen again. Now, perhaps I can see you on your way…?”

“No, no, nonono.", the turquoise temptress interjected in a sultry tone. "I really must insist you accept my gratitude! At least share a slice or two of this delicious delectable delicacy with me, and we can call it even! Seems more than fair to me!” Olga had already placed the cake, unwrapped, on the table, and was going through Chelle’s cabinets to pick up some plates and silverware. “Besides, you look like you might snap in half under a mild breeze. I really don’t mind.”

There was the sense that this creature had no intention of leaving any time soon if it could help it. Chelle let out a sigh, still frowning as he moved and sat at the table. He figured, just maybe, if he entertained this creature’s whims that he could be rid of her faster. His movement was noticed by the woman, the large creature letting out an approving hum at the back of her throat before she turned back to the table to lay out a plate before the cat. A knife flashed in her grasps as she fit an amazingly thick slice of cake on his dish.

“At least give it a taste.” She urged, pulling up a chair beside the Liger and flopping comfortably down. “Devilish Cream Cake is quite the treat where I am from.”

Chelle was just trying to move this interaction along, to get this stranger out of his home so he could rest and be ready to work in the morning. Eat the damn cake, go to bed. That was his goal at this point. So, he glared at his slice, glancing up to the strange creature looming over him, her hair drifting in it’s strange movements. Then he dug in.

Immediately, the flavor of that first forkful spread over his tongue. The texture was lusciously soft and moist, almost literally melting in the warmth of his maw. Heavy chocolate dominated his taste buds, punctured by a light but sharp nutty sweetness flowering slowly as an after-note. These flavors continued to shift as the Liger began to chew, teeth slowly grinding into what he had at first assumed were soft chocolate chunks. A new taste burst into the melody, a tender and slight saltiness. caramelized meat, Chelle was quick to realize.

Such things were never really to the Liger’s liking. In fact, he often refused to touch products like bacon covered donuts for the sheer principle of the matter. Even so, for one reason or another, he found himself enjoying this particular dish. Perhaps it was the texture, the slivers of flesh cooked to a perfectly soft yet thick consistency that had him enjoying the feeling against his teeth. Maybe it was the unique flavor it brought into the familiar tones of chocolate, bringing along a syrupy sticky sweetness all it’s own.

Whatever the reason Chelle found himself enjoying this, he continued to chew slowly at the meaty cake, devouring one forkful, then another.

“Good boy.” Olga hummed, drawing out the first word as if savoring how it felt on the tongue, watching as the feline ate.

Oddly enough, for such a tall feline, it didn’t take long for him to slow his pace. He chewed slower, his brow furrowing. His stomach already felt stuffed, though he had yet to even finish half of his slice. His cream-furred belly was pressing against the waistline of his pants, as though he had hogged out for a holiday dinner.

“I don’t think I can finish this-” He began, voice trailing off with a soft squeak, two strong arms wrapping around the Liger, lifting him up out of his chair and into the lap of this strange visitor. Her dark lips stretched into a wider grin, teeth showing as he glanced up to see her face peering down.

“Hush hush, kitten.” The woman’s voice cooed, an arm shifting Chelle’s position a bit more, cradling him like a child. “I’ll help you, okay? Just let Olga handle this.”

The Liger was flooded with flustered confusion as he realized that the side of his face was now pleasantly squeezed against one of Olga’s massive soft breasts in this position. His brain had chosen now to stop functioning properly. Cat.exe had stopped working. He did not even resist as the fork was brought up to his lips, absently opening his maw and chewing whilst trying very deliberately to keep his mind blank. Chelle was very much not focusing on the warmth of Olga’s body. He was not thinking of the woman’s scent, a spiced aroma that slowly filled his nose. He was not sparing thoughts to the fat nipple pressing in at the side of his head, easily within suckling range. And, of course, he most certainly was not dwelling on how she had the feline pressed against her with an almost motherly tenderness.

“Open.” Olga prompted gently, snapping Chelle out of this strange reverie.

His gaze focused on the woman’s face, his own cheeks flushing deeply under his fur. This was way too awkward, too alien, too-

“Come on, kitten.” Her low voice slowly teased into the Liger’s ears like a thick honey. “Open up, almost done.”

Fine. Fine fine finefinefine. Almost done. Just get this over with…

Chelle opened his maw, drawing a gentle coo of approval from Olga as she pressed another forkful into his maw. Another delivery of that savory chocolaty flavor midst thick buttercream frosting. He chewed, groaning softly, and he swallowed.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Olga chuckled gently, the sound vibrating in her chest and directly against the Liger’s ear. “Finished up the whole cake like a good kitty.”

Chelle’s ears twitched, gaze shifting towards the table as it finally seemed to register the stuffing he had just received. The platter stood empty, vacated of it’s delicious payload. His stomach was bloated, visibly swollen over the waist of his pants, skin stretched taut. The feline let out a soft groan, letting out a huff. There was a distinct feeling of nausea, as though he were about to lose the contents of his stomach. Nope. He was gonna be sick. Mistakes were made. Abort mission, abort abort.

“Deep breaths, kitten.” Olga pressed a hand gently against that swollen belly, rubbing with delicate precision. “We both worked hard to get that cake into you, and we need to make sure you enjoy every… last… bite…”

The feline didn’t know how to put this sensation into words. The soothing touch, the soft honeyed words, the comfort of Olga’s physical presence, it all felt so relaxing… It felt nice. It wasn’t long before the discomfort of being stuffed to bursting was replaced with that lovely relaxing calm, a deep rumbling purr vibrating in Chelle’s chest, eyes drifting shut.

Time seemed to melt into a puddle at this point for the feline as he began to doze in the arms of the enormous intruder. He drifted off to the sound of Olga humming a vague melody, the tune filling his tired head. Olga, however, was privy to a little treat of her own as the poor Liger’s stomach gurgle gworped away at the payload.

She watched, never ceasing in layering physical affection on that feline in her arms, as that bloated stomach slowly became less taut. She observed with a gentle smile as her fingers pressed into that tummy that only seemed to swell in spite of the change of pressures, sinking into a fresh layer of chub. Brushing through that lovely soft fur, she was able to note the presence of stretch marks forming in the delicate pink skin.

Chelle’s body swelled in her grips, making the chair creek under the duo. His chest ballooned, his stomach comfortably jiggling, his hips and ass blossoming in Olga’s lap. She’d be lying if she were to say she didn’t find this… exciting. Seeing the pounds slowly pour into this feline like a waterskin being filled, seeing the subtle movements of his body, swollen chest bouncing slowly in the rolling motion of each breath. It was just so delicious to see.

When the Liger would eventually awaken, Olga would greet him with a warm smile and a pinch on his cheek.

“Sun’s almost up by now, kitten. I’ll need to be going soon.” Her hand drifted down from the feline’s face, slowly tracing a digit around the indent where his belly button had put up a valiant but futile effort to stay above the swelling rolls of fat around it. “We should do this again some time. I recall there was a silly holiday you folks celebrate. Name’s on the tip of my tongue.”

The feline’s eyes widened as he realized how much more of him there was, how his body kept moving a while after he had stopped. He whimpered, a panic starting to bubble in his chest, looking down to the ruined remains of his pants and realizing his feline sheath was on full display, not that Olga seemed to mind. Nor did she seem to care overmuch about the mild chub of early morning.

“Ah! Stuffing day! I’ll be sure to drop by then! Maybe we’ll see if we can fit two cakes into ya.” Olga giggled, teeth showing in that wide smile of hers as she reached to pinch one of his puffy and swollen belly nipples, no longer able to be hidden under his fur. This drew a soft squeak from the plus-sized cat. “Oooh, glad to hear you seem so eager~!”

Story by Keepe and art by me!