The Monstergirl Satiety Project 5 (Patreon)

(WG, XWG, Stuffing)

A Monster Musume Fetish Story

There’s always room for more

Centorea pushed the last, empty plate aside and leaned back, exhausted, her hands resting on her protruding belly. Her human belly jutted out from under her blouse, taut and hard as a drum. The bottom buttons had long since given way, exposing the shiny, overstretched skin. But the horse’s belly was even more distended. Groaning, she rubbed the swollen, stuffed belly of her upper body, trying to find some relief after this grotesquely enormous amount of food. Then Centorea slowly felt the flanks of her horse’s lower body. She placed both hands on the rounded horse belly and felt it give way beneath her fingers while simultaneously offering hard, taut resistance. The warmth of countless cakes, the cream, the ice cream, and all the other foods lay heavy and comforting within her. Her hunger was sated for the moment, but beneath it, the next, deeper urge was already bubbling up. Hunger had long since ceased to be the feeling that guided Centorea’s meals. And with this massive meal, she had entered a new realm of overeating. She wanted more. She wanted this belly to grow even bigger, even heavier, and sag even lower.

With a soft groan, she pushed herself up. Her four legs immediately trembled under the new weight of her fatter and now mercilessly stuffed body. Her hind legs buckled slightly, and her hooves sought uncertain footing on the smooth floor. The massive belly beneath the centaur swayed sluggishly forward, forcing her into a pronounced arch in her lower back. Every attempt to shift her weight caused the mass to slosh and swing against the insides of her thighs. Centorea gasped, her ears laid flat against her head, and braced herself against the edge of the table for a moment. She needed the support to get used to the immense weight of her belly.
“It’s a good thing it’s so heavy,” the centaur gasped. “That means there’s enough food in there to make me fatter even faster. But that’s not enough…”

Her horse’s belly hung down beneath her torso like a massive, warm boulder—heavy, round, and stuffed to bursting. The centaur breathed shallowly and audibly; every inhalation pressed against the overflowing mass and produced a dull gurgling sound.

The satyr maid watched her through it all with a knowing smile. Her own monstrous breasts rested heavily on the serving cart, and with every breath they swayed slowly up and down. Beneath them, her own monstrous, bloated belly swayed, and together with the rest of her body, it testified that—just like Centorea would soon—she could never truly feel full, but only ate until her stomach was stretched to the absolute breaking point.

“Do you need help walking?” she asked kindly, her voice warm and free of mockery. Centorea shook her head, her cheeks flushed with exertion and also with shame, even though she knew she didn’t have to hide from these incredibly obese monster girls when she ate so much. “No… thanks. I… I can manage.”

She put one front hoof in front of the other. Her belly swayed heavily with each step, pulling her relentlessly downward and forcing her to spread her legs a little wider. Every step was a slow, wobbly waddle. The centaur groaned softly again as the full mass slammed against the insides of her thighs. In front, the overstretched bulge of her human belly spilled out between her blouse and the hem of her skirt, shiny and taut, blending seamlessly with the even more massive horse belly beneath it. It was a single continuous curve that stretched from her upper belly beneath the hem of her skirt all the way to the underside of her human half. Centorea would never have thought it possible to eat as much as she had today, but a new fire burned within her, and the mass of calories in her overstretched stomach was nowhere near enough to achieve her goals. After she had paid, she got ready to make her way back.

The doorbell rang as the centaur shuffled out the café door. The fresh air was pleasant given the grueling effort Cerea now had to exert to move her four fat legs along with the monstrous potbelly, which was inflated like a gym ball. The sun had already sunk lower, and the sidewalk felt unstable beneath her trembling hooves. Centorea took a deep breath and began her walk back. Every step was torture and, at the same time, a sweet confirmation. The belly hung so extremely heavy and swayed sluggishly back and forth with every laborious step forward. She groaned loudly and had to stop several times to lean against a tree or a house wall to catch her breath. As she did so, an idea occurred to her. If she wanted to gain weight even more rapidly and frequently—and if feasting sprees like today’s were to happen more often, or even daily—she needed help. But luckily, there was one person who would be only too happy to help her get fat even faster.

Centorea pulled out the phone she’d stowed safely in her enormous cleavage. Her fingers trembled as she dialed the number. Even though her decision was firm, it was almost frightening to think about what a massive mountain of fat she would swell into if she ate as much every day as she was now—or even more. But that was exactly the goal, wasn’t it? Kimihito would get what he secretly craved so much. The centaur held the cell phone to her pointed ear.

The call was answered immediately after the first ring.

“Smith.”

Centorea’s voice sounded a little out of breath as she spoke.

“This is… this is Centorea. I… I saw Kimihito go into the maid café for fat monster girls. I was inside too, and… I saw what he really wants. I’ve eaten quite a lot here—a whole lot. But I need… but I need a lot more. I need your help.”

A faint rustling could be heard on the other end of the line, then Smith’s calm, almost amused voice. “Sure. What exactly had you in mind?”

“The drug… the dose has to be maxed out. Right away. And I need a constant supply of food. In the house. Everywhere. Calories, as many as possible. I don’t want to wait any longer. I want… I want to get as fat as humanly possible. And as fast as possible.”

Centorea gasped as she leaned further against a house wall while speaking, her overfilled horse belly swinging heavily back and forth.

“I want to be like the maids in that café. And then even fatter. Much fatter. As fat as the wildest monster girls in the world—and then way beyond that. Until I… until I can’t walk anymore and can’t even stand up. Until my Master looks at me and wants nothing else but me.”

Smith laughed softly, a satisfied smile on her lips—which, of course, Centorea couldn’t see. Everything was going as expected.

“I’m glad to hear that, Centorea. Really. The maximum dose is possible. We’ll increase it starting tonight. And as for supplies… that can be arranged. As much as you need. I’ll come to your house myself tonight, and we’ll talk about everything else then. I’m very happy to hear that you’re ready to give your all to this project. Not least, of course, because of Kimihito. As you say, he won’t be able to resist you once we’re done.”
“Mmmh…,” was all Cerea said, rubbing her overfull stomach, which gurgled in protest as it digested the enormous amount of sweets.

“Get some rest when you get home. We’ve got big plans now, if you’re ready for them,” Smith advised the centaur.

“I will, and I’m ready for whatever they have in store. If it brings me closer to my goal, then I want it.”

Centorea hung up, put her cell phone away, and bravely staggered on. The walk home felt endless. Her stomach churned, her legs trembled, and with every step she groaned softly. But in her mind, everything was clear and distinct, and the centaur’s resolve grew stronger. She overcame all her doubts and shame and imagined how Kimihito would love her and touch her with passion once her body finally matched his ideals. She would grow. She would become heavier than any centaur before her. Heavier than any monster girl in the world before her.

Smith set the phone aside and leaned back. A small, satisfied smile played on her lips. She was sitting at a table in a cool, brightly lit room whose walls were covered with monitors and tubes.
“Ready for whatever they have in store…,” she repeated, grinning conspiratorially. “If only you knew, Cerea, what I have in store for you.”

In the center of the lab where Smith was standing was a large, glass-encased machine. Inside it was Lala’s severed head. The Dullahan woman couldn’t speak. A thick, flexible tube was inserted into her mouth, forcing her jaws apart and relentlessly pumping a thick, creamy slurry into her. Lala’s eyes were wide open, revealing a mixture of sheer pleasure and silent horror. The machine hummed softly and steadily. The tube led to several enormous tanks along the walls, in which the nutrient-rich, extremely high-calorie slurry bubbled. The research here focused on how nutrients, oxygen, and nerve signals could be transmitted between a Dullahan’s severed head and body. What the scientists at Smith’s agency could now say with certainty was that everything Lala swallowed ended up directly in her body’s stomach.

Smith put her cell phone away, stood up, and stepped through an open door into the adjoining room. The headless, naked torso lay on a huge, specially reinforced bed. The digital scale under the mattress read well over six hundred kilograms. The body had swollen into an immense, immobile pear shape. Her breasts were two massive, heavy cushions of soft fat that bulged widely to the sides and downward. The bluish skin looked soft and silky but also extremely taut, displaying stark stretch marks everywhere. Lala’s belly was a monstrous, round, sagging paunch that already extended far beyond the edge of the bed and continued to swell slowly but relentlessly. With every thrust from the adjoining room, the sphere of her grotesquely stretched stomach rose and fell beneath her skin. It grew rounder, plumper, and heavier without ceasing.

But the most striking features were her hips, buttocks, and legs. Lala had always had a slightly pear-shaped figure, though this had never been particularly noticeable given her slender frame. On top of that, there had always been her armor—or rather, her dark, concealing clothing. But now a massive, unclothed mountain of flesh with a monstrous butt lay before Smith.

The lower half of the Duluhan formed a seemingly endless landscape of soft, lush fat. Her hips were so wide that they filled the entire bed and were already hanging down over the sides. Her butt was a veritable mountain of sluggishly undulating flesh, hanging low and resting on the mattress in thick, soft folds, stretching so far that Lala could no longer reach it with her swollen arms. Her thighs had swollen into enormous, round columns full of rolls of fat and jiggly pockets of flab. Her lower legs and feet were barely recognizable beneath the mass that seemed to be slowly, inexorably spilling off the bed.

Smith stepped closer and placed a hand on the swelling belly. The skin was warm and smooth. Beneath her fingers, she felt the slow, steady growth. Lala’s body could do nothing but continue to gain weight as more fat was pumped into the head in the adjacent room. Lala’s body moved sluggishly back and forth, and occasionally she rubbed her chubby fingers over her swollen fat tits or her massive belly.

Smith smiled and jotted something down in her notebook. “Perfect,” she murmured. “Just perfect. We still have so many new things planned for you Monster Girls.”