~BBW, Fantasy, ~MWG -
Author's note: So, I've always liked fantasy and it seems natural to combine it with weight gain. This takes just a little bit to get started with the gorging.
Prologue
He was called Emperor Basil the Young, Basil the Slayer, Basil the Conqueror, Basil the Hero and after his death, Basil the Saint. He broke armies like twigs, outwitted his enemies at every turn and was hated by the nobility as much as he was universally beloved by his people.
However, you probably don’t care about that. What upset the Empire’s high society far more than his conquests and reforms, were the, well massive changes in the standards of beauty he instituted.
Part 1, Chapter One: The Guardsman and the Priestess
The first story of his then non-normative preferences happened when he was a mere youth of 18. Basil was the product of a short fling between the then Emperor Orion the III and a statuesque adventuress from the distant Vales of Artemis, one of the Amazons. His mother had died giving birth to him while his Father was still a mercenary in the Empire, which probably spared Basil's life as the Amazonians commonly kill male children. Although his status as a bastard prevented any formal recognition or title, Orion seemed to have had some fond memories of Basil's mother, having the boy raised as a palace ward.
He grew tall and strong, taking his father’s dark skin but favoring his mother with a massively muscled stature of 6’2, red hair and piercing blue eyes. Basil entered the army at fifteen, serving with distinction as a cavalryman on the Eastern frontier before being admitted into the Imperial Guard at 18. His appearance was striking enough for me to remember his return clearly, I myself being an Assassiness of the Imperial Secret Service.
He towered a head and a half over me and his hugely muscled thigh was as thick around as my slim waist. When I trained in aerobics, free running and hand to hand combat in the Imperial Gymasium I would often see him there, lifting huge weights and knocking veteran warriors to the dirt with his practice swords.
The Guard paid very well and its barracks were near the empire’s largest Temple of Voluptia (Goddess of Beauty, Sex and Fertility) which went a long way towards explaining the Guard’s very high morale. Basil used his entire promotion bonus to buy an exclusive one year contract with a beautiful Priestess named Yvarra the Iron Bodied.
Yvarra had then just turned 29, a high end Sacred Prostitute with only a year left before she became a full priestess, a rank which she had already been de facto granted but would have to wait until 30 to actually hold. A woman of her rank and beauty serviced only those who had been selected by the Temple’s Seers as fit to make love to Voluptia’s Priestesses.
Her body at that point was marvelously fit, serving as a model for Leonard Corvinie’s famous 9 foot marble statue of Voluptia. Hours of exercise each day made the lithe muscles on her tall body stand out, while blessed genetics still gave her a curvaceous hour glass figure with incredibly long legs and a face like a goddess. Yvarra’s huge eyes were green, her full lips were red and lustrious black hair fell down to her waist.
The only fat on her body were in her large breasts, which despite her age and their size were renowned as the perkiest in the Capitol. Indeed I can say from personal experience that they somehow perkier than my own modest bosom, a fact that drove me to frustration at the time. A vocal proponent of the Slender Theological School, which held physical fitness as the only form of beauty and that Voluptia would only return when every young woman had slimmed down, Yvarra had been renowned for dropping the average weight of the Temple’s Sacred Prostitutes by twenty pounds when she had been named their chief.
I myself had once sampled her in a fit of girlish curiosity and was left with a warm tingling feeling for a week and happy memories for the next seventy years.
Many in the Guard were jealous indeed when they saw young Basil walking in the city with the lovely Yvarra. He was a mountain of muscle in his shining scale mail, chivalrously carrying a small stack of her sacred books. She was an impossible beauty wearing only a scandalously short dress of gossamer silks, the V of her neckline plunging down almost to her navel and the short hem rising so high the toned roundness of her buttocks could occasionally be glimpsed, held together with a belt of gold chain and thigh high boots perfectly caressing her long legs.
Only a few were not so blinded by the couple's looks as to note that the famously fit beauty was being led to some of the finest Halfling run pastry shops and restaurants of the Capitol and that the Guardsman ate almost nothing, while ordering her vast quantities of chocolate covered treats, vast sugary drinks and fried food in the private booths they entered early in the evening, not leaving until late at night when the streets and restaraunts were empty.
Only a handful of the serving staff noted that the priestess had to be helped from the booth with by her hulking lover and that her belt, cinched so tightly when she entered, was carried by Basil when she left. The plump Halflings could only nod in approval that the woman was showing such a healthy appetite.
However, within a few weeks Yvarra seemed to vanish, staying within the small but opulent house Basil had bought with his high pay. While Basil trained harder than ever in the Imperial Barracks, Yvarra was seen no more in the upscale gymnasiums and aerobic studios that she had once spent all the sunlit hours in. But, after dark Halfing delivery carts from such eateries as the Bursting Button, the Snapping Sash and the Uncinched Corset were seen frequently in the neighborhood, often several times a night.
How Yvarra was persuaded to so drastically change her life style is a mystery I have never been able to solve, and I knew the Emperor better than anyone, even then I had befriended him, sparring against him in the Gymnasium. When I asked him why Yvarra no longer graced the Capital with her presence he would only smile. Later on, Yvarra would only say that she had done it for his favor.
Basil at that point lacked the Imperial power that would one day make slender noble women stuff themselves silly for his glance and cause foreign kings to lock their daughters in larders to earn a marriage alliance. But while he was only one of a hundred bastards Orion the III had sired, he did however have stunning looks, a gentle nature towards those he loved and a frustrating ability to persuade almost anyone to do anything.
Perhaps Yvarra tired of the increasing number of hours she had to spend each day keeping her perfect figure. Maybe after a lifetime of self denial and discipline she wanted only to sample the small, and not so small, pleasures she had so long denied herself. Some would say that Basil bewitched her with magic taught to him by his mother, which is patently ridiculous as he never knew her. Further, the Amazons praise and pursue fitness in a fashion that would have made Yvarra at her thinnest seem a waddling bison. I myself think that Basil must have convinced her using his insufferable logic.
‘Yvarra,’ I can picture him saying gently, their perfect forms entwined on bed of silk after their first session of love making, ‘Everyman in the Capital wants you and not a few woman either I would doubt. You are loved and envied, but is it only for your looks?’
‘Of course not,’ she would have countered with her melodious voice , slim hand brushing back her hair and large breasts quivering, ‘All know I am Voluptia’s most devout follower. Has she not granted me the knowledge of how to prevent pregnancies and the month curse, and the magics of how to make fertile both women and fields? Can I not cure sexual diseases with a wave of one hand, block a foe’s spell with the other and call down the Heaven’s lightning with my voice?’
‘All of that is true and more,’ he would have admitted, ‘but how many know that? The City looks at you and all they see are endless legs, rippling abs and a heaving busom that juts out like a cliff. Even within the temple how many know that you rose to leadership in your order through your clerical power and divine favor instead of just assuming your slimness gained you entry.’
‘I have to admit that while my powers are great, my looks have helped me on my path,’ Yvarra would have said, sighing softly and gazing down at her perfect form, ‘Many Priestesses have done nothing but praise me for my looks and I know that old Abottess Raya put me in charge of the Temple Prostitutes because of my love of exercise. She thought that a life of indolence had made them too plump and bid me slim them down. It didn’t matter that they were performing the sacred rites and sexual positions exactly as our holy scrolls say, with real faith in their hearts. That they were pudgy and I was slim was the only thing that made her select me.’
She would have stood up then, perfect body in front of a silvered mirror as she looked at her reflection, running her neat hands of muscular curves, squeezing her tight buttocks and feeling how there was not an ounce of errant fat on her whole frame.
‘This beauty can be a curse,’ she said, ‘I never wanted to be in the Prostitutes. I spent three years as a roaming Priestess with an adventuring party. I healed the sick, I helped crops grow and I battled evil. Voluptia above, I helped kill a dragon! But did anyone care I could do that? No, all they did was look at how my chain mail bulged against my chest and tapered at my waist. Then ten years ago I returned to the Capital, hoping to hone my magical talents, to rise through the ranks and finally earn some respect. I hadn’t been here a day when Abottess Raya summoned me to her office and the skinny harridan looked me up and down, slapped by buttocks and said, ‘Yvarra your looks are stunning. You are exactly what we need, someone whose beauty has been slimmed and hardened by the road. Last week one of the Temple Prostitutes hit size ten; you’re exactly who we need to trim them down.’’
‘Imagine what you could have done if she had let you study,’ Basil would have said, standing beside her and running his hands on her curves, ‘even now you are the youngest woman ever to earn the rights of a Priestess.’
‘I could have power greater even than the High Priestess,’ she murmured, closing her eyes with pleasure, ‘but I don’t have time. For the last ten years I had to spend all day keeping the Temple Prostitutes in shape, shouting at them and hurrying them until grew slender and gorgeous. And I had to keep myself in shape, ignoring the fattening foods of the city while I ran and stretched in the gymnasium. And every year it gets harder, I have to do more and more just to keep this body. I exercise for six hours a day straight anymore and still I fear that one day my clothes will grow snug.’
‘I do not think anyone would complain if your clothes grew snug my dear Yvarra,’ Basil would have said, hefting her breasts, ‘some indeed might appreciate it.’
‘If only,’ she would have sighed, ‘my stomach groans with hunger all day, while my muscles burn and my brain hungers to learn. But if I were to slack, my clients would complain in a moment and the Abbottess would merely raise my hours at the gymnasium. She fears what powers I have already, afraid that I will usurp her. Even with only an hour a day I have reached the powers of a Full Priestess ten years before she did.’
‘Yvarra,’ he said, ‘I would not complain.’
She must have looked him, tears in her eyes, ‘Truly?’
‘Yes,’ he said, massive brown arms wrapping around her pale chest and covering her nipples, ‘and remember, I have got you exclusively for a year. You do not even have to check in at the Temple. For the next twelve months, you’re a free woman. In a years time you can walk into the Temple and no one can stop you from assuming the mantle of priestess.’
‘Well,’ she smiled coyly, tracing a finger across her perfect form from her full lips down to her navel, ‘that’s only if you don’t complain…’
‘I think there are ways we can prevent that…’ said Basil.
What must have followed was a session of love making so mobile that any watching Junior Grade Assassin would have almost lost her perch on the window sill the house did shake so. She would indeed have needed my skills to hang on and watch one handed, without being seen.
Of course, I wasn’t there…
Author's note: So, I've always liked fantasy and it seems natural to combine it with weight gain. This takes just a little bit to get started with the gorging.
The Tales of Emperor Basil the Fattener
by Grand Mistress of the Imperial Assassins Guild Ashlay Santuan
(aka Sulla)
by Grand Mistress of the Imperial Assassins Guild Ashlay Santuan
(aka Sulla)
Prologue
He was called Emperor Basil the Young, Basil the Slayer, Basil the Conqueror, Basil the Hero and after his death, Basil the Saint. He broke armies like twigs, outwitted his enemies at every turn and was hated by the nobility as much as he was universally beloved by his people.
However, you probably don’t care about that. What upset the Empire’s high society far more than his conquests and reforms, were the, well massive changes in the standards of beauty he instituted.
Part 1, Chapter One: The Guardsman and the Priestess
The first story of his then non-normative preferences happened when he was a mere youth of 18. Basil was the product of a short fling between the then Emperor Orion the III and a statuesque adventuress from the distant Vales of Artemis, one of the Amazons. His mother had died giving birth to him while his Father was still a mercenary in the Empire, which probably spared Basil's life as the Amazonians commonly kill male children. Although his status as a bastard prevented any formal recognition or title, Orion seemed to have had some fond memories of Basil's mother, having the boy raised as a palace ward.
He grew tall and strong, taking his father’s dark skin but favoring his mother with a massively muscled stature of 6’2, red hair and piercing blue eyes. Basil entered the army at fifteen, serving with distinction as a cavalryman on the Eastern frontier before being admitted into the Imperial Guard at 18. His appearance was striking enough for me to remember his return clearly, I myself being an Assassiness of the Imperial Secret Service.
He towered a head and a half over me and his hugely muscled thigh was as thick around as my slim waist. When I trained in aerobics, free running and hand to hand combat in the Imperial Gymasium I would often see him there, lifting huge weights and knocking veteran warriors to the dirt with his practice swords.
The Guard paid very well and its barracks were near the empire’s largest Temple of Voluptia (Goddess of Beauty, Sex and Fertility) which went a long way towards explaining the Guard’s very high morale. Basil used his entire promotion bonus to buy an exclusive one year contract with a beautiful Priestess named Yvarra the Iron Bodied.
Yvarra had then just turned 29, a high end Sacred Prostitute with only a year left before she became a full priestess, a rank which she had already been de facto granted but would have to wait until 30 to actually hold. A woman of her rank and beauty serviced only those who had been selected by the Temple’s Seers as fit to make love to Voluptia’s Priestesses.
Her body at that point was marvelously fit, serving as a model for Leonard Corvinie’s famous 9 foot marble statue of Voluptia. Hours of exercise each day made the lithe muscles on her tall body stand out, while blessed genetics still gave her a curvaceous hour glass figure with incredibly long legs and a face like a goddess. Yvarra’s huge eyes were green, her full lips were red and lustrious black hair fell down to her waist.
The only fat on her body were in her large breasts, which despite her age and their size were renowned as the perkiest in the Capitol. Indeed I can say from personal experience that they somehow perkier than my own modest bosom, a fact that drove me to frustration at the time. A vocal proponent of the Slender Theological School, which held physical fitness as the only form of beauty and that Voluptia would only return when every young woman had slimmed down, Yvarra had been renowned for dropping the average weight of the Temple’s Sacred Prostitutes by twenty pounds when she had been named their chief.
I myself had once sampled her in a fit of girlish curiosity and was left with a warm tingling feeling for a week and happy memories for the next seventy years.
Many in the Guard were jealous indeed when they saw young Basil walking in the city with the lovely Yvarra. He was a mountain of muscle in his shining scale mail, chivalrously carrying a small stack of her sacred books. She was an impossible beauty wearing only a scandalously short dress of gossamer silks, the V of her neckline plunging down almost to her navel and the short hem rising so high the toned roundness of her buttocks could occasionally be glimpsed, held together with a belt of gold chain and thigh high boots perfectly caressing her long legs.
Only a few were not so blinded by the couple's looks as to note that the famously fit beauty was being led to some of the finest Halfling run pastry shops and restaurants of the Capitol and that the Guardsman ate almost nothing, while ordering her vast quantities of chocolate covered treats, vast sugary drinks and fried food in the private booths they entered early in the evening, not leaving until late at night when the streets and restaraunts were empty.
Only a handful of the serving staff noted that the priestess had to be helped from the booth with by her hulking lover and that her belt, cinched so tightly when she entered, was carried by Basil when she left. The plump Halflings could only nod in approval that the woman was showing such a healthy appetite.
However, within a few weeks Yvarra seemed to vanish, staying within the small but opulent house Basil had bought with his high pay. While Basil trained harder than ever in the Imperial Barracks, Yvarra was seen no more in the upscale gymnasiums and aerobic studios that she had once spent all the sunlit hours in. But, after dark Halfing delivery carts from such eateries as the Bursting Button, the Snapping Sash and the Uncinched Corset were seen frequently in the neighborhood, often several times a night.
How Yvarra was persuaded to so drastically change her life style is a mystery I have never been able to solve, and I knew the Emperor better than anyone, even then I had befriended him, sparring against him in the Gymnasium. When I asked him why Yvarra no longer graced the Capital with her presence he would only smile. Later on, Yvarra would only say that she had done it for his favor.
Basil at that point lacked the Imperial power that would one day make slender noble women stuff themselves silly for his glance and cause foreign kings to lock their daughters in larders to earn a marriage alliance. But while he was only one of a hundred bastards Orion the III had sired, he did however have stunning looks, a gentle nature towards those he loved and a frustrating ability to persuade almost anyone to do anything.
Perhaps Yvarra tired of the increasing number of hours she had to spend each day keeping her perfect figure. Maybe after a lifetime of self denial and discipline she wanted only to sample the small, and not so small, pleasures she had so long denied herself. Some would say that Basil bewitched her with magic taught to him by his mother, which is patently ridiculous as he never knew her. Further, the Amazons praise and pursue fitness in a fashion that would have made Yvarra at her thinnest seem a waddling bison. I myself think that Basil must have convinced her using his insufferable logic.
‘Yvarra,’ I can picture him saying gently, their perfect forms entwined on bed of silk after their first session of love making, ‘Everyman in the Capital wants you and not a few woman either I would doubt. You are loved and envied, but is it only for your looks?’
‘Of course not,’ she would have countered with her melodious voice , slim hand brushing back her hair and large breasts quivering, ‘All know I am Voluptia’s most devout follower. Has she not granted me the knowledge of how to prevent pregnancies and the month curse, and the magics of how to make fertile both women and fields? Can I not cure sexual diseases with a wave of one hand, block a foe’s spell with the other and call down the Heaven’s lightning with my voice?’
‘All of that is true and more,’ he would have admitted, ‘but how many know that? The City looks at you and all they see are endless legs, rippling abs and a heaving busom that juts out like a cliff. Even within the temple how many know that you rose to leadership in your order through your clerical power and divine favor instead of just assuming your slimness gained you entry.’
‘I have to admit that while my powers are great, my looks have helped me on my path,’ Yvarra would have said, sighing softly and gazing down at her perfect form, ‘Many Priestesses have done nothing but praise me for my looks and I know that old Abottess Raya put me in charge of the Temple Prostitutes because of my love of exercise. She thought that a life of indolence had made them too plump and bid me slim them down. It didn’t matter that they were performing the sacred rites and sexual positions exactly as our holy scrolls say, with real faith in their hearts. That they were pudgy and I was slim was the only thing that made her select me.’
She would have stood up then, perfect body in front of a silvered mirror as she looked at her reflection, running her neat hands of muscular curves, squeezing her tight buttocks and feeling how there was not an ounce of errant fat on her whole frame.
‘This beauty can be a curse,’ she said, ‘I never wanted to be in the Prostitutes. I spent three years as a roaming Priestess with an adventuring party. I healed the sick, I helped crops grow and I battled evil. Voluptia above, I helped kill a dragon! But did anyone care I could do that? No, all they did was look at how my chain mail bulged against my chest and tapered at my waist. Then ten years ago I returned to the Capital, hoping to hone my magical talents, to rise through the ranks and finally earn some respect. I hadn’t been here a day when Abottess Raya summoned me to her office and the skinny harridan looked me up and down, slapped by buttocks and said, ‘Yvarra your looks are stunning. You are exactly what we need, someone whose beauty has been slimmed and hardened by the road. Last week one of the Temple Prostitutes hit size ten; you’re exactly who we need to trim them down.’’
‘Imagine what you could have done if she had let you study,’ Basil would have said, standing beside her and running his hands on her curves, ‘even now you are the youngest woman ever to earn the rights of a Priestess.’
‘I could have power greater even than the High Priestess,’ she murmured, closing her eyes with pleasure, ‘but I don’t have time. For the last ten years I had to spend all day keeping the Temple Prostitutes in shape, shouting at them and hurrying them until grew slender and gorgeous. And I had to keep myself in shape, ignoring the fattening foods of the city while I ran and stretched in the gymnasium. And every year it gets harder, I have to do more and more just to keep this body. I exercise for six hours a day straight anymore and still I fear that one day my clothes will grow snug.’
‘I do not think anyone would complain if your clothes grew snug my dear Yvarra,’ Basil would have said, hefting her breasts, ‘some indeed might appreciate it.’
‘If only,’ she would have sighed, ‘my stomach groans with hunger all day, while my muscles burn and my brain hungers to learn. But if I were to slack, my clients would complain in a moment and the Abbottess would merely raise my hours at the gymnasium. She fears what powers I have already, afraid that I will usurp her. Even with only an hour a day I have reached the powers of a Full Priestess ten years before she did.’
‘Yvarra,’ he said, ‘I would not complain.’
She must have looked him, tears in her eyes, ‘Truly?’
‘Yes,’ he said, massive brown arms wrapping around her pale chest and covering her nipples, ‘and remember, I have got you exclusively for a year. You do not even have to check in at the Temple. For the next twelve months, you’re a free woman. In a years time you can walk into the Temple and no one can stop you from assuming the mantle of priestess.’
‘Well,’ she smiled coyly, tracing a finger across her perfect form from her full lips down to her navel, ‘that’s only if you don’t complain…’
‘I think there are ways we can prevent that…’ said Basil.
What must have followed was a session of love making so mobile that any watching Junior Grade Assassin would have almost lost her perch on the window sill the house did shake so. She would indeed have needed my skills to hang on and watch one handed, without being seen.
Of course, I wasn’t there…
