Game 3Game 3 Outline| Game 3 |
Game 3 Outline |
Angela giggles a little, "Oh master, don't be silly. I know you really got hurt, and you need all the help you can get to get better." she rolls the first tray towards you and places a huge bowl of beef stew in front of you, "My master taught me all about how to serve. It would be an embarrassment for a lord to look so malnourished as to resemble a peasant. I could never keep up with him when I was alive, with all his children, but now I can ensure that my masters get all the luxuries they deserve. You must have hit your head, but don't worry, I will make sure you get better." She takes a wooden ladle and raises it to you lips. You turn your head, refusing to take a bite. "OH please Master, you must eat to regain your strength."
"No, it's too mu.... hmmmmph."
You try to talk, but as soon as you open your mouth, she shoves the ladle into your mouth , forcing you to swallow. "Now don't be difficult master." She says, spooning up another serving. You smack the bowl away, only for the bowl and the content spilling through the air to freeze, then catapult back in place. "I don't want to get stern master, but you need to eat to get better," she says. You feel a pressure on your arms, and your jaw is forced open by an unseen force and your head tiled upwards. Angela starts ladling in spoonful after spoon full of the stew into your mouth, and you are left with the choice to swallow or drown in stew, gulping it down. After she finishes she releases. "No... no more," you say, panting after trying to keep up with her pace, but another bowl floats forward, a creamy looking chicken soup, bubbles of butter floating on it's surface, and again, your arms are forced down as she ladles spoonful after spoonful into your immobilized mouth.
After this, the fish and meats float forward. "Now, I would rather not have to make you chew Master," she says. "Angela, really, I can't keep eating like this, please, I know that how it was back th... hmmmph." You try to explain the difference between the ideas of her time and today, but she forces a fish into your mouth, and looks at you sternly, and you can feel the pressure on your arms, and reluctantly begin chewing, swallowing just in time for the next, and the next. Platters of meat, bread, and fruit follow and you begin feeling full. Your sleep allowed time for your stomach to empty, but Angela seems to have prepared with that in account, filling you back up with dish after dish. By the end of it, you are stuffed to the brim.
"Angela... I'm.... getting... too... fat..." you say, out of breath from all the eating. "Nonsense," says Angela a matter of factly, "I say your the envy of all the other lords, not even the king is this lavished upon, and I've prepared your favorites for desert," she says, floating forwards trays of tarts, pies, and puddings, which one after another, you are forced to eat until all that is left is the crumbs upon your chest and smears of fillings and pudding on your lips.
"And now let's get you some fresh air, and some books," she says, and you feel your heavy frame lifted out of the bed and gently paced in the wheelchair, your stomach so bloated form food it dig into the sides, your legs force apart and almost buried in flab. "Oh, we may need to get you a bigger chair soon Master," says Angela happily, and wheels you out. Your too stuffed to resist, and you can feel the gurgle of your stomach digesting, and your frame getting fatter millimeter my millimeter. You need some form of plan, even as she pushes you through the doors of the library you suspect that only more food is going to follow, and if you don't do something soon, you'll lose whatever mobility you have left!
Written by an anonymous author
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