Game 3Game 3 Outline| Game 3 |
Game 3 Outline |
Ok, so Angela is obsessed with getting what you want and 'lavishing' you with comforts, so why not use that to your advantage? "Um... ok, Angela," you say, huffing as you try and push yourself up, "I would like you to find me the witches spell book, and I don't want you to rest until you have found a copy." You figure that Angela will not actually rest until she has completed your task, so either she will be too busy to feed you, and if there is no copy, she will be searching long enough to allow you some get away time.
"Yes master," says Angela dutifully, "And do not worry, I will complete all my duties." she says, moving through the book shelf as she does. You wonder what she meant by that. Suddenly, you feel your chair lurch, pushing self over to the fireplace. At the same time, another cart rolls into the room, laden with treats, "Whoa, wait, that's not... murph..." you are cut off as a treat flies off the cart into your mouth, a second following suit as the food on the tray lines itself up and begins fileing into your mouth. Even when you try to resist, the same pressure from before forces you to chew and swallow. Before long the cart is empty. You are panting, feeling fit to burst, 'A...angela?" you say, but for once, she does not reappear, instead the wheelchair begins rolling on it's own again, the wheels squealing audibly under your weight as it moves through the castle. You try calling Angela again, but she does not appear. Apparently your order meant she would not respond until she completed her task of finding the book.
Unfortunately, it also appears she can put her other tasks, namely your care, on autopilot. The chair wheels you into the dining room, where another feast has been prepared for lunch. You are moved onto a new throne, one that seems to compose a number of the other chairs, before the food begins floating and piling up in front of you. You are already too full to move, but regardless, it keeps moving forward, forcing you to devour every last morsel.
By now you feel more like a balloon then a wolf, your engorged stomach so stuffed it feels like a boulder pushing between your legs, even as Angela's invisible forces lift you onto a larger wheelchair and moves you to a bathroom, settling you in the warm waters as your body digests, soap and scrub brushes washing and messaging you. You feel your body rounding out, as the flab accumulating around your rump begins pushing into your leg flab, pressing it into rings that raise your feet off the ground, even when seated. Your chest pushes your arms up, the rings of flab hindering their movements, you try reaching forward, finding your pathetic attempt barely reached midway pas the immense chest flab. Your cheeks swell up, swallowing your neck, while your chins make your muzzle almost unnoticeable. You can barely even turn your head with the amount of fat in the way.
'This is it,' you think to yourself, knowing you can't possibly move like this, 'Angela got what she wanted, a master that can't run away.' You feel the invisible force beginning to lift. It seems to shudder as it heaves you into the wheelchair and moves you. You whimper, knowing it's heading to the dining room again for another feast, where your either going to become a living ball of fat, or are stuffed until you explode.
Written by an anonymous author
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