Gwynevere Vignette 1

Part 1

In a land far from Lordran, one untouched by the ravage of hollow curses, fading flames or abyssal corruption, an oddly large home had been constructed far from any human settlement. The construct appeared to be a scaled up Greek building, made for beings over twice as large as the race of men. Birds chirped as they sat on a windowsill on the rear wall of the house. A few flew into the room looking for a less crowded perch, and settled on a trio of sun-drenched silky-covered hills. As they landed two of the hills squished and jiggled under their nigh-negligible weight, spooking the feathered creatures. The third hill began to shift as well, a melodic voice cooing at the avian touch, scaring the final few birds back to their place in the window. The hills’ movement caused their silken covers to slide off, exposing the alabaster skin underneath to the gross incandescence of the rising sun.

“Mmmmm, soooo waaarm…” the melodic voice mumbled, its owner snoozing in the radiance. Without the covers her tender flesh heated up under the sun’s grace, putting the woman back into fitful slumber. Her body was now readily visible, and befitting her status as Princess of the Sun, looking upon her beauty would stun any unwary mortal. Her bottom, once dubbed the ‘Gwynerear’ by her more perverted guards, had swollen due to her massively increased diet and sedentary lifestyle while it widened under her fertile condition, giving her a large, plush pillow for her gravid weight. Her belly was a large, heavy sphere bulging from her frame, too large for her to sit upright. She had a layer of pudgy fat coating her womb’s surface which gave her great tummy a lovely softness, as well as beefy love-handles tying her pregnant gut to her frame. As large as it was, her belly paled in comparison to her biggest assets. Where once her visitors would warn of her ‘Amazing Chest Ahead,’ her new expanses of milky breast-flesh had bloated to many times the size of her head. The immense sacs had filled with fat and glands and milk… and then continued to fill… and then filled some more until they were individually noticeably larger than her ponderous womb. They rose up on her chest, resting lightly against her belly and held up and perky by how amazingly full they were. The rest of her body also featured small changes: thicker thighs to support her amazing ass, a slightly softer face, her pregnancy weight rounding out her features on an almost unnoticeable level, and finally her arms had also beefed up, partially from a thin layer of baby weight, but also from a developing core of muscle as she hefted her belly and breasts around as they grew harder to manage.

As her basking went from beautifully warm to uncomfortably hot, the well-rounded beauty began to shift once again. She stretched out like a cat, her legs shifting from under her belly and her pillows slipping from under her head, causing her to slide down into a face-full of warm sloshing tit. “Mmmmmph…” she mumbled from behind her warm milk tanks, nestling her face against them. The redhead gently rolled her sphere-laden form, slipping her shapely legs over the side of her bed. Pushing herself up, she quickly moved her hands to support her gravid spheres.

“Whew, so HEAVY… mmmmm, so heavy…” she moaned, pulling up on her grumbling tummy. The Princess waddled about her room preparing for the day, her hands either supporting her curves or groping her flesh. First was her morning milking, an important art of her day. She stretched forward, but her dainty hands had long since lost the ability to reach her sensitive nipples. She repeated this now-pointless ritual to gauge her bloated bosom, her reach today ending halfway around her milk tanks. She squeezed them together and massaged their masses, but her ducts refused to express without direct stimulation. She knew her husband was off hunting, as he usually was to feed her ravenous appetite, so she called out for the next best thing. “Handmaid, your Lady requires your presence!” she called into the empty halls. A few moments later, she began to grow impatient. “Where are you? Did he take you hunting again?” Silence answered her as well as any reply. She sighed, “He KNOWS what happens if I don’t get my morning milking! I blow up like a common bovine! I NEED release… but on the other hand… I’ll get soooo big…” she lightly jiggled her breasts, testing their give. Last time she missed her milking, her udders had grown almost twice their size. She began happily humming to herself, an extra wobble to her step as she waddled to her next stop on her morning routine: a long soak.

Her room had a large washroom attached to it via a rather wide door, which she bobbed through with gusto. Gwynevere loved her morning baths, getting her handmaid to lather up her growing body and, on a few occasions, her servant would ‘accidentally’ grope her curves and think she got away with it. She frowned for a moment, saddened that she would be bathing alone today, but brightened up when she had a lovely thought. “If I’m alone today, I can have some fun.” Her bath had already been drawn, luckily enough, so she stepped over the shallow edge of the sunken pool and lowered herself into what was, for ‘normal-sized’ women, a small swimming pool. The water came up to her shoulders, but as she attempted to submerge herself completely her chest mounted life preservers refused to sink. She placed her hands as close to their peaks as she could and pushed, but the giant milky pontoons would only dive so far before slipping from her grasp. With a small huff, she squished her breasts together, braced herself, and fell forward. Her breasts quickly fought their way back out from underneath her, but she had succeeded in wetting her massive knockers. She let out a small cheer as she settled into the water and tried to right herself… but she couldn’t. Her belly and breasts were too buoyant, and she was stuck floating on top of them, the tip of a fertile, chubby iceberg, slowly sinking under her great weight. She rest her head against the soft pillows in front of her, thinking about how to solve her predicament when she felt something tap her navel. A shiver ran down her spine as she wallowed on her belly, trying to grind her bellybutton into whatever it had found. “…wait, what DID I hit?” she pondered. “My body’s stopped sinking… oh my, I’ve struck the bottom haven’t I?” Sure enough, her belly rested on the floor of the pool, preventing her from going under. She giggled to herself as she lathered in the soap, cleaning herself from her comfortable position mounted on her tummy.  When she was ready to rinse she paddled backwards, rolling her point of balance backward until she was on her feet, and then leaned back to submerge her torso. As the soap fell away and she leaned against the side of her bath for support, she decided it was time for her toughest challenge yet. Namely, getting dressed.

She had abandoned her full flowing dress soon after getting pregnant, but she still tried to keep herself clothed while she was able. She grabbed a length of cloth ribbon and wrapped it around her beefy butt, passing it under her round bulk and around her legs until her makeshift underwear took shape. She had let out her lacy top’s straps repeatedly over the past month, while the covering cloth remained as small as ever. She looped it over her head and, after a few tries, threw the remaining cloth over her massive mammaries. She pushed her chest out and leaned back, the lower straps of her top flopping back into her reach. She tied them tight, digging the cloth into her swollen breasts. She hadn’t altered her top for her milk-filled state, and the pressure flowed through her body in a solid wave of pleasure. As she recovered she caught a look at herself in her mirror. Where once there was a slim woman with respectable curves there was now a swollen icon of femininity and fertility. She cocked her hips, trying to stroke as much of her bloated spheres as she could. “This look suits me… quite well.” She mumbled as she pet her milk sacs. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her of the sole reason she didn’t just lay back on her bed and revel in her changes. She waddled over to the door leading out to the rest of the house, but ran into a serious problem. She couldn’t fit her tits through the door. Her bloating breasts needed to be milked, or else she was trapped in her room. She huffed once again, settling down on her plush behind. “They’d better get home soon, I’m starving!”