Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1
The Right Honourable Viscount of Fox Point was back in the Principality of Beacon after six years of absence in the Seven-United-Provinces up north.
The Great Council of the Alphas had borrowed him to the late Sovereign Princess of Beacon, Her Serene Highness Talia of the Hale House.
After the Civil War of the Provinces, ten years prior, the Council commissioned Stiles of the House Stilinski to reconstruct and transform Capitol City. All the great and powerful houses well knew his skills in architecture and arts of the continent.
In Beacon, and at only 16 years of age, the young Viscount had designed the public garden and painted the portrait of all the noble and princely house.
Now that his mission ended, he was glad and relieved to go back home.
His home was supposed to be a lovely manor, Fox Point, in the middle a green hollow. It was not a place Stiles liked.
It was the place where he lost his parents. The place called home was the Princely Palace of Beacon. The colossal palace with the four gardens, the great hall, the Prince Hale’s library and the great point of view from the high balcony.
That was his home. He started living there when his parents died. At ten he inherited all the belonging of the Stilinski house and became the Princess’ ward. So for the next six years, he grew up with the actual Sovereign Prince of Beacon, Derek, his sister, Princess Laura, and educated by Prince Peter.
His romance with the former Hereditary Prince Derek was well known and accepted by the people and the noble families. After all, he was one of the most exquisite parties in the region.
Still, there was nothing official between them, except a promise made by the two when Stiles left the Principality. Moreover, they had no contact for the past six years except when Stiles wrote a condolence letter after the terrible events that struck the Hale family those past few years: the death of Prince Peter in a hunting accident, the passing of Princess Talia and the death in childbirth of Lady Katherine, Derek’s wife. He wished he could have come back to Beacon to be here for Derek. However, he could not.
He was, at the same time, excited and scared to be back.
Excited to see his friends and the people he called family: the Duke of Wayland, Scott, the terrific Marchioness of Blackstone, Lydia, and even the jackass Duke of Elmwood, Jackson. He was scared to see the Family.
He should have stayed in touch with them. However, with all the work he had back there, he never found the time to do so. Of course, he always had them in his mind. They were his family, the people who took care of him when he was alone.
There he was, by the doors of the Great Ballroom hosting a great feat and a ball for the Sovereign’s birthday. He was surprised to be invited honestly. He enjoyed few days of relaxation in the Observatory Garden he created when his former private secretary, Greenberg, brought him the letter with the princely seal.
He snapped back to the present time when the butler announced him to the court.
“The Right Honourable Viscount of Fox Point.”
The occupants of the room got silent to watch the one who once stole the heart of their Prince.
However, something bothered Stiles. All the men in the room where at least plump, if not obese.
CHAPTER 2
The Viscount was taken aback by the new look of the members of the Court. The women of the court still had the same look, but it was a different story for the men. Of course, they always dressed as richly as before, but they looked like they had put on at least 50 pounds each if not more.
He took a look on his left and was surprised to spot the Duke of Elmwood being fed pastries by his young page Daniel.
Still wearing his signature expansive clothes, Duke Jackson must have weighed a good 100 pounds more than the last time Stiles saw him. Also, by carefully looking at him, he could see his clothes were much more revealing than they used to be during the late Princess reign.
The shirt Duke Jackson was wearing was richly embroidered, but it seemed it was way too short because Stiles could see it was stopping shortly before the Duke’s bellybutton. Also, more shockingly, His Grace’s pants were unbuttoned and several sizes too small as his underwears could clearly be seen by the public and were only covering half of his buttstock.
How in heavens could something like that happen to the Duke? He was undoubtedly the vainest and most arrogant person known by the Viscount. He could recall correctly how much the Duke was taking particular care of his look.
The Duke was not the only one indulging himself in the same decadent behaviour. He was lost in his thoughts when he heard his name.
« Viscount »
« Marchioness, » Stiles said bowing. Stiles was delighted to see his old friend, Lydia Martin, the Marchioness of Blackstone. She was a little red-haired woman, and currently engaged with the Duke.
« It is a real pleasure to see you. We have not heard a lot about you in those past six years. I am not happy about that. » She said faking a pout.
« My deepest apologies, Madam. I hope you will find in your good heart a way to forgive me. »
Lydia laughed at that and took his arm, walking with him.
« I understand you must be surprised by the look of the Court, » she said. «Many things have changed since you left us. Eight years ago, we got through difficult times, especially the Prince. »
« I know, and I was saddened about it. »
« I can imagine, » she hummed. « Well, Prince Derek became a recluse. Plus Princess Laura left to marry a king, thousands of miles away from here. So, only a few of us were able to see him. It was not a pretty thing to see, to be honest. He drowned his sorrow with drinks and food. It lasted for the last six years. He was still ruling and controlling the realm. However, there were no parties, no laughter and most of the Court abandoned him to return to their estates. »
« We can know the hypocrites.»
« I agree. The persons you see here are the people who stayed with him. » True, there was maybe a dozen person present in the Ballroom, a considerable change since Princess Talia’s time. « We helped as best as we could, and we succeed. We let him mourned. » She grabbed a glass of wine for Stiles. The wine was sweet, too much for Stiles’ taste, but he didn’t mention it. « Then, he came back. Different you can imagine. Those years of excess showed. »
« What do you mean? »
« Well, he doubled in size. You can guess the tailor had much work. However, he was back. Different. More, excessive in his needs. So there were parties, decadent feasts and more familiarity at Court. Just take a look at the new male fashion. It all started because the Prince kept appearing with tight clothes. Also, most of the time, he was drinking and eating until they were shattered. »
Well, that sounded like something Stiles wanted to see. Derek was the embodiment of the Prince Charming. Beautiful, fair, smart, well mannered, chivalrous, and a body to die for.
« Didn't you say anything about it. »
« Not really. We had him back, and we did want to rush him. Then after several months, it became a fashion. »
« A fashion? » Stiles was astonished by that.
« Do you remember when Princess Talia lost her husband? I know we were young. However, she dressed only in black, so the ladies of the court dressed and acted like her. It was just following the sovereign. »
He agreed with her reasoning. The Princess was an amazing and funny woman in private. However, at court, she was blank as a stone.
« And, honestly, it is a welcome change. The atmosphere is lighter here. Court constraints are less restrictive. Also, we managed to reform the agricultural system of the country. It was for the best. We produce more, so people can have more and prosper. Moreover, for them, the Prince represents this prosperity. »
« Yes, things changed » For the best? Stiles just waited to see the Prince be sure of that. After all, he was still in love with him. It started as a crush at first. Stiles was young when he met the Prince who already was 15. Also, by the years, the two grew close enough to admit his feelings.
« Well, Vicount, I think your conversation is over, » She looked over his shoulder. « Goodbye, Vicount. »
« My Lady. » Just as Lydia was leaving him in the direction of Duke Jackson, someone called him.
CHAPTER 3
Stiles turned around to see a jovial man waddling to him. As he was bowing to the Duke of Wayland, Stiles was gripped by the massive man.
« I missed you so much Stiles, » The Duke of Wayland said, hugging, even more, the Viscount’s body.
« Scott,» said Stiles, almost gasping for air when the Duke let him go and took a good look at his childhood friend.
« You haven’t changed a single bit, » said Scott smiling. « Well you grew up, but you look the same, you know. »
Stiles laughed at that. The Duke of Wayland was a simple man, far from any intrigue or gossiping of the shady courtiers.
He was friendly and fair to everybody. When he was a child, Stiles hated that. He hated that some people would take advantage of Scott’s social innocence.
« Well, you sure did. » Stiles said, knowing now that pointing weight gain at court was a compliment.
The Duke laughed and patted his massive midsection. He sure did change in ten years.
He was now wearing a light beard, that was a surprise to Stiles because he never thought Scott could grow one, which could not hide his two round cheeks, his double chin and his softening jawline.
As for the rest of his body, if Stiles was shocked by the changes of the Duke of Elmwood, he was even more shocked and amazed by Scott's.
First, he was way more corpulent than the other Duke by at least forty or fifty pounds.
Also, the clothes he was wearing were accentuating this feeling of hugeness, not that the Duke needed that. He wore them as the same fashion, but the yellow shirt was only covering his heavy man-boobs, stopping at the beginning of the curve of his abdomen.
Below the shirt, the belly was massively round, undoubtedly full of food at that moment, and resting on a half-covered fat pad bursting out the pants and underwear he was wearing. Skipping of the pants, Stiles was pretty sure he could fit in just one leg, seeing how thick the Duke’s thighs and calves were.
Still, he was, somehow, a handsome man. Well, even if he were ugly like a gargoyle, Stiles would still like him because the man was a such a wonderful person.
« Liam. Food. »
The order Scott gave his young overweight page unsettled Stiles. That was so out of character. He could swear he had never heard Scott order something before. He remembered a polite 15 years-old Scott always saying « please if you don’t mind.»
Well, that was a long time ago, and the page was almost looking happy to comply when he came back with a silver plate filled with at least twenty giant chocolate éclairs.
Then, something Stiles had never seen before; the young man took one and put it entirely in Scott’s mouth.
He ate it in a few seconds, leaving Stiles to wonder if he was chewing or just swallowing it. Then there was a second and a third before Scott resumed to his conversation with Stiles.
« I love those sweet petit-fours, » he said, his mouth full with his fourth one.
Petit-fours? Was he kidding? The éclair was even more significant than the usual one. If that was a miniature one for Scott, Stiles felt full at the idea of a normal one.
« Anyway, » he said, wiping off chocolate cream of his fingers, « we are all happy to see you back. I thought you forgot about us, brother. »
« I did not… »
« Don’t worry, I know, » he interrupted, smiling, « I just wished you came back earlier. You would have been helpful. However, now, » he took another chocolate pastry, « you are back, and I want to hear everything about your trip up north. »
« I am pretty the Marchioness of Blackstone is already planning a questioning, you know? Well, if she hasn’t lost her touch, of course. »
« Don’t let her hear that » laughed Scott. « I am pretty sure you will be happy to see Derek, won’t you? » he asked, putting his meaty arm on Stiles’ shoulder who manage to resist the weight of it.
Stiles glanced behind him and also tripped when he was the size of his friend’s lower back. His buttstocks were pretty much hanging out freely, wobbling at each step. He expected, like the Duke of Elmwood, that Scott’s would be shown, but not in that way. His pants were sustaining his girth below its edge, giving it an even rounder aspect, and was partly covered by the Duke’s underwear. He was so mesmerized by that he almost did not hear Scott asking again about the Prince.
« Well, I still haven’t seen the Prince, to be honest. » Stiles said. « Where is he by the way? The party is already well underway. » He pointed.
« Derek is in his rooms for his own birthday’s feeding. » Stiles eyebrows lifted in surprise, then Scott explained « It is a tradition he installed. For every celebration like Christmas, All Saint’s Day, National Day, Easter or his birthday, he locked himself in his room with few trusted servants and is being fed before appearing to the Court. You will enjoy his entrance, you will see. » He added, sensing his friend’s surprise. « It is a nice show actually and a great honour for the servants. Moreover, also a great honour to me since I am the one who organises those moments. » He smiled proudly.
« That must be much work, I imagine. » Stiles pointed as he remembered the poor noble doing that work for the United-Provinces.
« Well, not when you are doing it for a friend. » Stiles was curious at that. « We became close to Derek. You know, the small group here who stayed with him despite everything. The Marchioness, Jackson, Isaac and I. »
« Yes, the Marchioness mentioned something like that. »
Scott grabbed a drink and pointed Stiles’ one. « Let’s drink to this happy time. To a long and prosperous life for our Prince. »
« To the Prince. »
He only took a small gulp of the seat beverage while Scott emptied his glass in a trait.
« Any idea when he is going to show up? » Stiles asked.
« You are in such a hurry, enjoy the party, Stiles. However, don’t worry, he should be here shortly if he can stand up. » He said, laughing loudly.
A few minutes later, the butler cleared his throat. « His Serene Highness the Sovereign Prince of Beacon. »
Then the door opens, and the Viscount was speechless. He knew this past few moments at Court were challenging because of the weight changes, but there was no way he could have imagined that as Prince Derek entered in the ballroom.
CHAPTER 4
It was the first time Stiles was witnessing such an entrance.
The Prince was slumped naked on an enormous golden curule seat on rolling pedestal pulled by his servants.
However, what shocked Stiles, even if he was not fond of such an extravagance, was the size of the Prince. He knew he got big from his conversations with the Marchioness and the Duke, but he could not imagine that.
The Sovereign must have weight 180 pounds when Stiles left the court, but now he looked what it seemed to be in the 550 pounds. As the carriage passed in front of Stiles, he bowed, but his mind was racing. He could not recognize the Derek he once knew.
The morbidly obese man was carried until the end of the room, and the Viscount could take a good look at him. The Prince was now a genuinely enormous man. Indeed, the biggest one Stiles had ever seen.
His soft huge hairy belly was almost covering his knees and was a testament of his gluttonous diet.
The Prince’s gut looked taunted and full, undoubtedly due to the work of the servants and looked like almost eighty inches. On top of that monster were resting two watermelon-sized man-boobs and wholly merged with his massive neck and double chin hardly hidden by his beard. Around his thick neck was an oversized golden collar.
Stiles recognized it, it was the Sovereign necklace, but it was altered to fit the Prince’s neck, even if small rolls of flab covered some part of it.
Also, stuffed in the man massive bellybutton was one of the most valuable diamonds of the realm. When he was younger, Princess Talia allowed Stiles to carry and study it. It was the Wolf Star, a 530.4 carats rock. She used to wear on her diadem. Stiles bet she could have never imagined it could be one day resting in her son’s bellybutton. Stiles could not have believed if he was not seeing that now. However, after all, Derek never had been a big fan of crowns.
His arms were the size of both Stiles’ thighs and were resting on top of the round sphere and Stiles could sport the Hale’s Triskelion ring on one of Derek’s sausage finder, gently patting his girth. The man was almost as large as he was tall.
Surprisingly, Stiles could still distinguish the traits of Derek’s face behind the pounds of blubber he was carrying on his cheeks, pushing his mouth into a perpetual pout by their plumpness. He still has those vibrant green eyes, a Hale signature trait, that made Stile swooned when he was younger and his brushy eyebrows Stiles used to make fun of.
Then, the usual parade of the courtiers began. Each courtier present was called by the Most Honourable Private Secretary, Sir Isaac Lahey, to salute the Prince.
After being called, the courtier had to go in front of the Throne, bow to the Sovereign and wait to be dismissed by him.
However, unlike this type of ceremony Stiles participated in, Prince Derek was paying no attention to the nobles bowing to him, too busy stuffing himself with a stuffed swan.
When it was Stiles turn to bow, he secretly hoped Derek would stop his frenzy from looking and acknowledging him.
What a disillusion!
As he was still bowed, waiting for the regulatory ten seconds of bending, he heard the loudest burp he had ever heard. It was a long, guttural sound that resonated in the ballroom. After a few more second of silent, except a few giggles of admiration of courtiers, the Prince took a considerable part of stuffing in his mouth. At that moment, Stiles saw the Private Secretary indicating him to go back with the crowd.
When, a few minutes after “Stiles’ humiliation,” the Prince finished destroying the swan, a servant picked up a jug of oil and drizzled it over the Prince’s entire body before rubbing it in, gently.
Stiles was stupefied by the show he was witnessing.
He looked at the other courtiers and saw them looked at it with admiration, approbation and, surprisingly envy, as if being allowed to touch, feel, grab and rub so much royal blubber was the greatest privilege. His eyes crossed the Marchioness’ ones, and she winked at him before returning her attention to the Duke of Elmwood who was salivating at the sight of his Sovereign being rubbed.
That’s when the servant hands grabbed at the Prince’s belly and squeezed and wobbled it. The Prince shuddered as he pressed his lovehandles a little harder.
Then he saw that Derek’s eyes were closed, a moan escaped his lips.
God, the Prince was, even more, enjoying than Stiles’ though.
The Prince was panting harder and harder as he could feel his paunch touched, stroked and slapped by his servants. Stiles understood that it was undoubtedly the only way for the Prince to get laid, not being able to do it on his own.
Or not wanting to.
If he got that size, he must have been greedy, he just had the demonstration earlier, but also lazy. The Prince indeed accepted the fact that he could never pleasure himself alone anymore and that his position could allow him to have many people doing it for him.
All of a sudden, everything stopped, and a loud crack was heard.
The seat broke under the Prince’s weight, and Stiles saw him lying butt-naked on the ground, his body still wobbling from the impact. He was groaning and moaning and then suddenly, he let out another massive burp.
The servants helped Derek off the floor, and the Prince stared proudly at the destroyed curule seat.
Then Stiles heard people clapping and cheering for their Prince’s accomplishment.
CHAPTER 5
Letter I
From the Marchioness of Blackstone to the Viscount of Fox Point
Viscount,
Since your return, I may have noticed your distress coming from the changes in our Court. Being able to imagine what a shock it could have been for you, I request the pleasure of your company at an evening in the presence of His Grace The Duke of Elmwood and His Grace the Duke of Wayland, at Elmwood Court, tomorrow.
It will be the occasion to ease your mind about the recent changes in our Court and also to hear about your travel up north.
Yours faithfully.
———————-
After being summoned by the Marchioness, found himself at the Elmwood Court. Of course like the Duke, the castle was extravagant and, in Stiles’ opinion less charming and classy than the Princely Palace.
As he was being conducted to the dining room of the castle, Stiles could notice that Elmwood’s vanity was unchanged since he left.
There were paintings of him in the long corridor. It showed him from his childhood and Stiles could admire, and deny it if Elmwood heard of it, the evolution of Jackson. Sure, he could not deny he was a handsome man, but the last paints of him showed a rapidly increasing weight. The last one was probably faked because it showed a 350 pounds Jackson on a horse, and he perfectly knew that even if the Duke’s vanity showed small limit, crushing a horse was out of the question. If the Duke decided to be insufferable, he would gladly point it.
When he entered the dining room, he was greeted by the Marchioness. They bowed, and Lydia took him in a gentle and delicate hug. As he turned to greet the host and Scott, he noticed the two Dukes were already seated, only in their underwear, and undoubtedly reluctant to stand to welcome him.
“Fox Point,” said the Duke of Elmwood, “at least you are here.”
Of course, Jackson would point he arrived a bit later than the agreed time of the dinner.
“Do not listen to him Stiles,” said Scott, smiling at his friend, “he is in fool mood because he has not eaten in hours.”
“Lydia said not to spoil my appetite,” he protested.
"Well, Your Grace," said Stiles to Jackson, "I feel overdressed when I see you. If I had known I would have worn something lighter" as he pointed the short and revealing underwears of the Dukes.
"Viscount, this is an intimate dinner. There is no need to impress in the company of friends." Lydia said diplomatically.
Stiles took place on the side of the table, in front of Lydia, while Jackson and Scott were facing each other at the end of the table.
As soon as the Duke of Elmwood sat on his large chair, six servants entered the room carrying a procession of trays. They split into each side of the room and deposited their various dishes on the table just in front Scoot and Jackson while two servants carried smaller plates to Lydia and Stiles.
« I trust you preferred a light supper, Viscount, » she said emphasizing on lighter, pointing the size difference between their plates and the Dukes’ ones.
The Duke of Elmwood picked up a giant turkey leg, which was the signal for the three others to follow suit.
After the initial pick-up, servants began feeding their two Graces.
Scott’s chin wobbled rhythmically as he was fed with turkey, mashed potatoes and pork pies. Jacksons feasted on pheasant, chicken and suckling pig and thick-cut vegetables covered in gravy.
Stiles to a sip of wine, feeling his appetite reduced by seeing the two young behemoths being fed.
The Viscount was glad to have Lydia to talk to and was amazed she never once showed any emotions toward the Dukes’ behaviours. Maybe she was used to.
They made conversation about Stiles work in the United-Province while the two others were too focussed on being filled.
At that moment, Stiles decided to ask a stupid question. « Is it always like that? »
Lydia laughed gently at him like as a child, while Jackson looked at him, wondering if the Viscount was kidding him.
« Are you serious? » he asked.
« Jackson, he was gone for a decade. How could he possibly know? »
Scott was starting to pant from the effort of eating so much so fast. « Yes it is, and Jackson always makes sure he has the finest food of the realm. »
« I sure did! » He exclaimed, « I am not a hog like you Wayland. »
« Hey! » Scott feigned outrage, « I do not discriminate when it comes to food.
« Your Grace,» said Jackson’s servant placed more pheasant on his plate. Jackson stuffed the meat with more butter and started shovelling it into his mouth. Indeed the only time where Jackson was going to use his hands for the evening. He then licked his lips and burped.
« So, Stiles, » asked Lydia, « I understand you have some trouble adapting to the new etiquette of the Court, » while she was sipping her glass of wine.
« Everything is so different. The men at Court seem more… »
« Greedy is the word you are looking for. »
« Well, it is the trend now Fox Point, and we must follow it, » Jackson snapped, his mouth full of food.
« So, Viscount, did you met interesting persons while you travelled? » Asked Lydia, faking innocence. At that, Scott perked a bit but did not interrupt his feeding.
«Many people were interesting up north, My Lady. » Said Stiles, playing the dumb card.
« She knows about that Fox Point. She wants to know if someone was idiot enough to propose to you, » grunted Jackson.
« Oh… Actually yes, » said Stiles shyly. Then he saw three pairs of eyes looking at him dumbfounded.
Scott's mouth was agape, and some bit of food was falling from it. Even Jackson was looking a bit worried.
« And what did you say? » cautiously asked Lydia.
Stiles took a moment before answering. Sure they were friends, but it was not something he wanted to talk with them.
« Stiles? »
« I rejected the courtship. I felt.. pressured…at the moment, and I called it off. It was nothing official, of course. »
They seemed to relax at this.
« So, did you go far with him? » asked Lydia.
« My Lady, I wish not to aboard those unpleasant memories, » said Stiles in a colder voice.
They took notice of that and did not insist on the matter, while the desserts were served.
At the sight of Jackson gulping down an outrageous strawberry cake and Scott sucking the chocolate sauce off his servant's fingers, he knew he had to get out from the room, and the Marchioness noticed that.
« Jackson, we will go for a digestive walk with the Viscount, while you and Scott finish dessert, » she announced.
They left the room unnoticed by the two others.
As the sun was setting down, they walked arms in arms silently for a good five more minutes before Stiles apologized.
« I am sorry, I was not feeling up to talk about that. »
« It is fine. I understand. » after a moment she added. « I need to be honest with you. »
Stiles looked at her.
« Our questioning was not as innocent as it seemed. »
« Meaning? »
« The Prince commissioned us to… dig information from you. »
« He could have asked, » he said bitterly.
« I told you he had changed. Since the death of his loved ones, he has difficulties showing emotions. »
« He could have fooled me during his birthday. »
« Stiles. »
« I thought he would have said…Or, show any… Moreover, I felt so humiliated» Stiles did not want to finish his sentence.
« Stiles, do you love him? » she asked firmly.
« I love the Derek I grew up with. The one who made me feel I was the most important person in the world. The who wiped my tears when I lost my parents. The one I fell in love with. »
« He still is that man. »
« He does not feel like it. I agree, he has changed and I have changed. » After a moment of silence, Stiles declared. « I should go. » Then Lydia called a servant to fetch Stiles’ carriage.
After he took his leave from the Duke, who only grunted at him while being fed more, and Scott, who half hugged him on his taunted belly, Lydia escorted him to the entrance.
As he was climbing his carriage, she said one more thing.
« You cannot imagine how happy he was when he learned you were coming back here. Goodbye, Viscount ».
Then she disappeared inside, and Stiles carriage started.
CHAPTER 6
Stiles spent the next couple of days organizing his home. Even if he had trust Greenburg to take care of the garden and the generally good state of the house, he had to make some room for the new pieces of art, furniture and plants he brought back from the United Provinces.
It was also a way to occupy his mind and being far from the Palace. He had not heard from any of his friends at the moment, and while he was a little hurt by that, he was at the same time relieved.
Sure he was immersed in a whole new world in such a short time with no notice. He was shocked, of course, but mostly because it was a radical change from the austere etiquette of the north. Here it was a complete opposite.
Never in his mind, he could have imagined the Consul of the Provinces, Deucalion, being sexually relieved in front of the whole court.
Never he could have imagined exposing so much of his body.
Never he could demonstrate so much greediness in his behaviour.
He was wondering if the Court of Beacon could be a place he could stay.
Yes, he had friends here, but they had changed, and mostly, his Prince had changed. As he said to Lydia earlier, he felt that the man he saw in the ballroom was a stranger, aside from his physique, but his mentality.
However, still, he was not disgusted by the way the men of the Court looked now. He had known for some time now where his preferences in men were laying and truth to be told, they all qualified for his affection. Even the Duke of Elmwood, even if he perfectly knew they would be at each other’s’ throats most of the time.
Still, he needed time to think and to adapt.
Because it was what he did best.
Adapting when he became an orphan, adapting when he integrated the Princess’ family, adapting when he had to leave his home at sixteen to go abroad. Adaptation was in his blood.
He was pulled out of his thought by Greenburg, who was waddling to him. He had not mentioned his butler’s weight gain to be polite, but the man seriously porked up, certainly in the 250 pounds range.
Nothing compared to the others.
« Sir, sir! Someone is waiting for you. » He said, out of breath. « It is the Palace. »
Stiles came back in the manor and went the parlour to meet the envoy.
To his surprise, the Palace sent Sir Isaac Lahey, the Private Secretary.
Stiles only briefly saw him, but know he was seeing that the tall man blossomed other the past decade.
Way taller than Stiles, he was even bigger than Scott.
Indeed 400 pounds and it was showing, undoubtedly because he was spending much time with the Prince and by that picked some of his eating habits.
His entrance must have surprised him because he could swear he just saw the Private Secretary playing with his ample belly. As he saw Stiles, he straightened up and bowed to him.
« Viscount, » he said respectfully.
« Sir Lahey, what a pleasant surprise. If I had known about your visit, I would have had made sure a collation was prepared for you. »
Lahey smiled at that and thanked his host.
« I am sorry to importunate you Viscount, but His Serene Highness demands your presence at the Palace in the early afternoon. I will ask you to follow me if you please, » he said, motioning his carriage outside the Stilinski’s manor.
Of course, Stiles could only comply.
After all, it was an order from the Prince. A direct order especially if he asked for his Private Secretary to do it.
Sir Lahey got in the carriage first, and Stiles could see it bend under his weight. He was glad the Private Secretary tried to give in some space despite taking most of the seat. Stiles was not far from being sandwiched by the carriage and Isaac Lahey massive love handles.
Unlike Scott or Jackson, most of Isaac’s weight was not in his torso. Well, he had an impressive middle and a voluminous pair of man-boobs, but most of his weight went to his love-handles, which were looking almost as small bellies. His buttstocks, which were widely spreading on the booth, and his thighs, which were squashed onto each other were also a sign of the Secretary's appetite.
Also, with the added weight, he looked even more like a cherub. His golden shining blond locks framed a rounded out face. Big soft hairless cheeks, and a soft but somewhat still defined jawline.
However, behind that innocent and angelic face, Stiles knew Isaac Lahey was an efficient Private Secretary. He heard Lydia mention during dinner that he did a lot for changing outdated policies of the realm. He was also a quiet man, speaking only if needed, even if he was known for his caustic comments.
As the carriage left the Viscount’s property, Sir Lahey took a big box filled with Turkish delights. After shallowing three pastries, he proposed some to Stiles, who politely declined.
“Enjoying a bit of a mid-morning collation I see?" asked Stiles
To his surprise, Isaac giggled and patted his belly. "Yes. Even though breakfast was only a couple hours ago, I knew the trip here would get me hungry again." Not as if it was a long trip, Stiles’ mansion was roughly fifteen miles away from the Palace.
Then, they fell into a comfortable silence that Stiles broke a few minutes later.
“Why does the Prince want to see me?”
Isaac looked at him, annoyed, and Stiles did not know if it was because he had interrupted his copious snack or because Isaac found his question stupid.
“If the Prince wants to see you, you have to obey. He does not need a reason.”
He was mastering in political cant. Isaac realized he might have been harsher than he should have to Stiles.
“What I know is you will meet him in the Private Garden. He did not say more actually. Just he wanted to have you here.”
During the rest of the ride, none of them spoke. Isaac was polishing his third box of pastries, and Stiles was slowly beginning to doze off with the soft bounces of the carriage when it went on a pothole which made Isaac fall into Stiles.
The man was slumped on the Viscount, and Stiles gripped the man’s massive love handles with his hands. It was a feeling he never lived before. Aside from being massive, they were also soft, warm and charming to grad. He did not think before squeezing them harder and felt Isaac exhale louder as Stiles’ head was buried under the man’s chest. He felt Isaac’s hands on his sides as the man tried to get back to his place.
“Are you good Viscount?” asked Isaac fearing he had crushed the smaller man.
They looked for a moment, both men blushing but still not moving their hands.
“Yes…I am. Are you?”
“Well, I crashed on comfier bodies before.” He said, trying to diffuse the tension between them.
Then Stiles realized that if Isaac was not moving it certainly because he did not have the strength to do it.
“Do you need help to get up?”
“Please.” Said the Secretary, blushing even more.
Stiles spent the next minute trying to push Isaac, but the man’s weight prevented him from doing so. Neither of them minded their position, Stiles was intrigued by Isaac’s soft and huggable body, and Isaac was always happy to be touched.
Then Stiles freed himself from Isaac body and got behind him, grabbing him by his ample waist and pull him using his legs.
When they managed to regain their seat, both men sighed in relief.
“Well…That was” Stiles started.
“New for you?” Said Isaac.
“That too.”
Isaac grabbed Stiles arm and sat the Viscount on his meaty thighs. Stiles was too shocked to move or protest, then Isaac took his hands and placed them on his man-boobs, making Stiles’ hands rubbing them.
“What are you doing?” Stiles said.
“Shhh. Just follow my lead.”
Then Stiles’ hands were on Isaac’s abdomen, and love handles. They were rubbing them, grabbing, squeezing.
It felt so magical.
Stiles was a virgin, he never got that close with someone before, and it was so new, weird and good at the same time. He continued for several minutes when he heard Isaac moan and realized Isaac's hands were not guiding him.
Stiles was doing it on his own.
Isaac took a new box of Turkish delights and gave it to Stiles.
“Feed them to me.” He ordered the Viscount.
Stiles executed himself. He took the first piece and gently put it into Isaac's mouth. He swallowed it, smiling at Stiles.
“Another one.” So Stiles put another one in his mouth, soon followed by a third then a fourth.
“Faster.” He moaned. Stiles executed himself, each piece going in his mouth faster than the previous one. Stiles was so fascinated by Isaac’s capacities and try to challenge him by forcing two pieces this time, which Lahey liked because he was moaning even more.
“Do you like it?” said Isaac grunting with lust.
Stiles blushed even more, ashamed of showing such little restraint, but let his hands-on Isaac. Isaac gripped his frail shoulder with a comforting hand.
“Hey, Stiles,” he said gently, “It is fine. It is not a big deal. Everybody does that now. You do not have to be shy about doing what you desire.”
Stiles nodded, glad of and appreciative of Isaac’s kindness. Happy to see the Viscount relieved, Isaac kissed the man on the cheek.
“We still have time before reaching the Palace.”
CHAPTER 7
When they arrived at the Palace, the Private Secretary conducted the Viscount to the Private Garden. Stiles loved this place. He had so many good memories there. He remembered being told stories about former sovereigns by Princess Talia, learning about the phases of the Moon and constellations by Prince Peter and playing card games during those warm summer nights with Prince Derek and Princess Laura.
For him, it was the real central place of the Palace, where the Royals could be a family, ordinary people. A place where social and political problems were forgotten. However, since the disappearance of so many loved ones, Stiles had the feeling this place was more a haunted one with ghosts of a happy past.
Lost in his memory, Stiles did not notice that Isaac stopped at the entrance of the garden, so he got and crashed into Isaac’s hefty backside. The man chuckled at him.
« So, I trust you know the path, right? » Stiles nodded. « Great, my lunch is waiting for me. I had to postpone it because of you. »
« The Turkish delights were not enough? » Stiles asked.
Isaac laughed at that remark. « You are a funny man, Viscount. However, I thank you for the good time we spent together. You were doing good for a layman, but, » he patted his belly, « this monster needs a real feeding. »
Then he left, leaving Stiles alone in the garden. If Stiles were right, the Prince would be under the pergola. It was the place where they mostly stay during heat waves, informal dinners and tea time.
His assumption was right because the Prince was already here, waiting for him and, surprisingly, alone. He was sat at the table, wearing this time linen pants, his underwear hidden by his distended stomach. He was wearing a richly sleeveless coat, certainly, because his arms were too massive to fit in them. He was not wearing a shirt, and, closer than he was in the ballroom, he could take a full view of his heavy man-breast which creating a ring of fat under his armpits obliging the Sovereign arms to be up resting on the dome of his belly. So today, Stiles could take a real look to the deep cavity that was his bellybutton. Stiles bet it was almost as big as his fist. Indeed, if the biggest diamond of the realm could fit in it, he looked like a gracious landwhale Stiles told himself.
As he saw Stiles, he nodded at him. « Viscount.»
It was the first time in ten years that Stiles had to hear Derek’s voice. It was the same deep sound, but something in it, maybe conjunction of time and obesity, made it muffled.
« Your Serene Highness, » Stiles said bowing lowly.
« Here, Viscount, sit, » the Prince said gesturing a smaller chair than his own across the round garden table.
As he was going to answer the Prince to thanks him for the invitation, Derek turned his head in the direction of the closest french doors to call a servant.
« Are you going to bring the food or do you mean to starve us to death? »
At that, two servants cringed a tray of food. Fewer than what Stiles expected, and certainly much less than what the Prise was used to. Still, there were a dozen different small pastries.
When the servant finished serving Stiles with tea, he left the two men alone.
« It has been a long time Viscount. » said the Prince, picking a small piece of apple pie with a fork, and put it slowly in his mouth before chewing it. It was such a change from what he saw in that ballroom. Stiles excepted to see the Prince gorge himself like Scott and Jackson using his hands or a servant. However, at that time of the day, Derek must have already eaten his lunch. Given the full look of his stomach, Stiles was not entirely wrong. « I have heard from the Marchioness and the Duke you had been pretty busy during your time away. »
Well, he was pretty sure Lydia and Scott gave a lengthy perfect report about everything during that dinner at Elmwood Court. About his work but also about his sentimental life.
« Yes, Your Highness. The United-Provinces needed much work after the Civil War. » He saw that Derek was not looking at him but was eyeing with envy at the pastries. « But I missed Beacon. »
« Then why didn’t you come back? » Derek asked harshly, looking fiercely at him as if his answer was determinant for the well-being of this garden tea time.
Stiles took a few seconds before answering, choosing his words carefully. « I had so much to do. People there counted on me. »
Derek's face got suddenly darker. He picked another piece of cake as if eating was preventing from exploding. He was right because his tone was harsh.
« I was counting on you. I needed you when my wife died. I needed you when I lost my mother and my uncle. I needed to help me rule this land. However, you were not here. » Then he took another one.
« I am sorry, Your… »
« You promised you wanted to be by my sides forever. However, you failed, » he announced with hatred in his voice. « And now you are back here. Why after all this time? You could have made greater life in the Provinces. Make a respectable marriage, enjoy the wealth you acquired. So why are you here? »
Stiles was scarred. He never saw Derek that angry. Sure, when he was a teenager, he could be grumpy and harsh, but never to Stiles. He was always kind to him.
« I…I don’t know. » He gulped, unable to say something to calm the giant man.
The Prince scoffed, raging at the Viscount’s answer. « You don’t know? Well, maybe because you still have those feelings for me? Do you? »
He said that with so much poison in his voice, Stiles felt sick. Derek was not supposed to a cruel man. He could not say such a thing. He once told Stiles while he was crying that showing emotion, talking about your feelings was the bravest thing a man could do. So Stiles stayed silent dumbfounded about this act of mercilessness.
Derek grabbed the whole plate of cakes and put it in front of him, devouring the small sweet treats in a few seconds.
« I know I am not the man you left ten years ago. However, that is the thing Stiles; Times and life twists change people. I can understand why you cannot say it again. I know I have changed beyond recognition, both physically and mentally, and there is no way I could revert to the memory you have of me. »
He never expected so much honesty from the man. However, from what Stiles was understanding, Derek was telling him he could not feel for the Prince and that he would never make an effort to please Stiles.
« But still you try. » Stiles could not believe his bravado and never could Derek. It was a clear sign of disrespect.
He straightened up and looked menacing. « I beg your pardon? »
Fuel by adrenaline and the harsh words of the Prince, Stiles stood up and got close to him to tower him. « The restraint you show in your eating at the moment. You are in control now, either because I make you nervous or want to try to please me. Moreover, you know, do not have to do that for me. You are the Prince. You do not have to care about couriers’ feelings. You do as you wish and order. »
Now that was Derek’s turn to stand up. The semblance of domination Stiles felt vanished ass Derek rose from his sit looking like a titan, rising from the ground, his ponderous belly knocking his teacup and covering his plate as it rested on the table.
« How dare you to speak to your liege that way? » He snarled, growling at Stiles, making him think about a bear awake from hibernation. However, Stiles was ready to show resistance.
« You also made sure to know about my well-being while I was up north. I know you did. All the questions Lydia and Scott asked me, they were from you, right? »
More growling came from Derek as he took a heavy step in the direction of Stiles.
« Stiles! » he warned.
Stiles took a step in his direction, his flat abdomen brushing across Derek’s belly.
« Why? Why would you care if you claim that I betrayed you? Do you love me, Derek?» Stiles exclaimed loudly before shutting his mouth, shocked about what he asked his Sovereign.
« Enough! » Derek roared.
A loud silence fell on the Garden. Stiles felt he was trembling, now honestly scared of what could happen to him.
That’s when he heard several footsteps of two soldiers of the Prince’s Guard.
« Viscount of Fox Point, you will be taken to the Room of Lost Causes and will stay here until further notice. » The Prince declared solemnly.
The Room of the Lost Causes was a prison inside the Palace used for nobility. It was a vast empty room. There was nothing to do there except for the prisoner to dwell on his defeat. Princess Talia once told them the last time this room was used for such a purpose was during her grandfather’s reign, after an attempted coup. So now, Stiles will be the next prisoner of the Palace. The first one in over a century.
« Yes, Your Highness. » And the guards seized Stiles and conduct him to his new quarters.
As he was leaving the garden, a tremendous roar from the Prince could be heard. He was reclaiming food.
CHAPTER 8
The Duke of Wayland’s carriage entered in high speed inside the Palace courtyard. He had hurried after the Private Secretary informed him about the incident between the Prince and the Viscount.
Scott could not believe Derek could have locked someone, all the more Stiles, into the Room of Lost Causes. From what Isaac wrote, a violent shouting broke out between the two them. Of course, Scott suspected the subject of it. He knew he was the sharpest knife around, but he could see something the Prince and the Viscount could not: they still deeply cared for each other. Sure after all these years they could not love each other, but the string between them was still here, and he had to help them realize that.
As he was to the Prince’s chamber, his large and soft body hit something equally large and soft.
"Isaac!"
The Private Secretary groaned. « I'm sorry Your Grace, » he said, « but you have to come, the Prince has gone insane. » He took Scott hand and directed the fat Duke to the Prince.
« How bad is it? » Scott asked.
« He has not stopped eating since he locked up the Viscount. That was seven hours ago! » Scott was now officially concerned. Sure he knew the Prince was a big eater, the biggest of them all, but eating for seven hours? That was somewhat alarming and calling for admiration at the same time.
The Duke waddled slowly along the corridor towards the chamber.
Isaac opened the doors to the Prince bedroom, and the two men entered. Scott could not help but smiled when he saw what was before him. Derek was seated on his bed, body looking far more bloated than he usually was after a feeding. His belly was a colossal mound of taunted fat that was now pushing toward his knees.
There was a pause where the Prince let out an enormous belch before a servant poured an entire pitcher of melted chocolate down his throat.
"I need more! I am starving!" Derek boomed before guzzling more chocolate down.
It was the most intense eating frenzy Scott witnessed from the Prince. Sure the Prince always ate with devotion, but here it was another story. The Prince was so possessed by his hunger he didn't even notice the Duke was there because. He was too wrapped up in his eating. Scott did not mind, though. He was wondered to see his Prince eating away like that. Still, he perfectly knew he had to intervene, but there was no use to do it now with the Prince.
« Call me when he is done with his feeding, » said the Duke to Isaac as he waddled out of the room to the Room of Lost Cause. After all, the Viscount of Fox Point was the one who could help them all.
————————
Scott waddled ponderously down the hallway, moaning in discomfort every few steps.
His hands were pressed to the front of his naked, wider, engorged beast of a belly, trying to keep it from swinging and bouncing so much as he walked. He must have put on at least forty pounds since he arrived that night at the Palace, he stopped trying to fit in his shirts since they just became too constrictive, and he was feeling in few days the situation would repeat with his pants and underwear.
After much effort, he came to Privy Room. His eyes landed on the Duke of Elmwood and the Private Secretary, who were studying administrative documents.
Isaac glanced over at the door and saw him. Scott nodded his head at them, and both Jackson and Isaac nodded back.
Like Scott, they were shirtless both being much broader themselves.
« Wayland are you fine?" Jackson asked.
« Too many desserts in a short period. » He said, rubbing slow circles on his gut with his hands.
"How's he doing?" asked Isaac quietly.
« He is finally asleep…but…. » He did not have to finish his thought because the two men understood what he was saying.
« Did you try talking to him at all? Did he say anything to you? »
Scott sighed and slumped on a chair. « I tried, Isaac. I think we all tried, but it is like he does not listen. He just kept gorging on his food, as if eating would distract him from his pain. »
That was when Jackson anger erupted. « That is all he is doing right now, »
« Jackson, please, » said Isaac trying to calm down the Duke.
« He is eating himself into a coma every chance he gets, he sulks about all this chaotic situation, and he sleeps whenever he is not doing either of those things! » he barked.
Isaac nodded. « Yes, he hardly reads anymore or give any interest in state-matters, he barely leaves his bed, and he only allowed to be cleaned if we promise to bring him more chocolate. »
« He doesn't know how to deal with Stiles. We help him reach that vegetative state he wants so he can avoid the pain. However, if Stiles is the problem, he is also the solution. I hate to know he had been in that Room for two weeks now, but we have to find a way to make them communicate. » imagining his friend loneliness was insufferable to Scott. The only news he had about his state was from the jailer and were forbidden to contact him. Still, he was relieved to know he was well treated. « Even if it means setting him free. »
The two other men froze because what the Duke was suggesting was treason. « It is just like before. »
The three men sighed at the thought of having to endure another six long years of mourning from Derek. Once was enough. However, they could not miss the signs; they just had spent two weeks with a morose and compulsively eating Derek. It was precisely the same after the death of his family. We could not mentally endure it.
That is when the Marchioness made her presence known at the door.
« Maybe it is time we do something about His Highness. We perfectly know he will not get any better on his own. »
Scott agreed with Lydia. « And I feel that we are only facilitating his current means of dealing with his grief and anger. » He added. « Although, » he said with a small smile on his face. « I am not complaining about the side-effect." He slapped his more enormous girth, watching it jiggling with all its extra fatness, courtesy of multiple servings of creamy, fattening, chocolaty treats.
« True, » said Jackson, giving a small smile back at the Duke and rubbing his round paunch while Isaac was happy to see he was putting more and more weight on his hips.
Lydia rolled her eyes and huffed. « You can become as fat as the Prince himself and still never really help him. I think it is time I talk some sense to the Prince. They have to communicate, but we know he is certainly unable to move right now. So let’s bring his feelings to Stiles. » she said, and for being at least thrice her size, the three men shuddered at the intentions of the Marchioness. She sighed at the three men because she perfectly knew they did not understand what she was suggesting. « I will make the Prince write a letter to the Viscount. »
The three men nodded and internally praised the Marchioness for her helpful input. However, now they had, especially Scott, to lay down and digest for a while before dinner.
CHAPTER 9
Letter II
From His Serene Highness the Sovereign Prince of Beacon to The Honourable Viscount of Fox Point
Viscount,
My mother told me once that a great leader has to accept a different point of views and to admit when he was wrong.
I am afraid to say I failed to follow this dictum in both ways. I was too focused on myself and my feelings that I forgot yours during that fateful afternoon, and it was wrong to punish you for that.
Therefore, you are free to leave the palace as you wish. You are no longer a prisoner among this place.
Words could not express how sorry and horrified I am about what I dared to do to you. Once again, I was not thinking about you.
You were right when you accused me of spying on you. Please do not blame your friends. They were following my orders. It was vital for me to know you were all right, because, from the first day I met you, I made it my mission to protect you. So even if I was not here to do so for the past ten years, I made sure you were.
Concerning the next question, no, I do not love you. I was once, but we took different paths, and I know that mine does not include love anymore. Still, I do care genuinely about you, and you are essential to me.
I would understand if you do not want to return my affection. After all, I did and said to you, after becoming a stranger to your eyes and memories, I could not hope for your forgiveness.
I am no longer the man you confessed all those years ago. I will never be him again. This man died when all his loved ones left him.
I know I do not enter the canon of beauty you were used to in the United-Provinces. I put on more pounds than I thought was humanly possible and, egoistically, I obliged people to be as slovenly as me.
You deserve someone like that patrician who courted you. He could have made you prouder to be his husband.
For all these reasons, I think you should not be with me.
However, if you think someday you could love me, do not wait a day, do not waste time, come and find me. Will you spare me some of your time to know me?
I hope that my words were not to forward.
Yours,
Derek.
———————
Letter III
Your Serene Highness,
I hereby thanks His Serene Highness for his mercy despite my behaviour. I do not have to forgive you, because nothing you could be unforgivable to my eyes.
I should have come back when you were alone and lost. You were right when you said I had failed you, but it is my sincere wish not to fail you anymore in any way.
Why should have I preferred him over you? Yes, he was called the most handsome man there and yes the most valued party.
He tried to court me. He offered me horses, jewels and furs. He put at my feet his fortune and to promised the moon for me. He made up stories I pretended to believe. He swore fidelity to me until the end of eternity.
However, when he talked to me about love, he needed many discourses. He implored me. He adored me. However, still, I ignored him. I do not care for his fortune, may he leave the Moon where it is, without any regrets.
However, you, you will not do that. And never will.
I knew it would be foolish to say I love you. I loved the man you were. I think I can learn to love the man you are now. So, Derek, prepare your time, because for you I have all mine.
Yours faithfully,
CHAPTER 10
Their second meeting went better than the first one.
They met in a private room of the Palace, this time. They talked about each other, and for the first time in years, Derek told him about how hard it was to deal with the weight of the Crown and the loss of his family. He said to him about his son, the Crown Prince Alexander, a nine-year-old boy that was living in the Hale’s countryside manor and how he enjoyed spending some time with him there. He told him how hard it was to deal with all his responsibilities and how easy it was to deal by overeating until oblivion.
The Viscount was glad the Prince accepted to open himself. He was thankful the Prince trusted him enough to talk openly about his life, about his fears of not being a great sovereign, his hope for the land of Beacon and his leisure time.
Still, they were difficulties concerning their future together. They agreed there was a long path before reaching an acceptable deal, and the Prince explained why.
« Stiles, » he said, taking the Viscount’s hand in his meaty paw, « you have to understand I am not capable of loving anymore. We will never be an ordinary couple. We will not have and happy end as it was described in children’s tales. You will always be second. No matter how good it will be to have you by my sides, no matter how much I care about you, it will come first, » the Prince said, grabbing his gut. « I am a slave to my gluttony now. It is what rhythm my days. It is the only thing that makes me feel whole. I cannot refuse food, no matter how full I am. Even if I am full to the point of throwing up the very sight of food makes me ravenously hungry again. As I said, there are not going back to that. It will never change. I will be capable of ignoring you for food. I will always favour a feast over you. » He put Stiles’ hand over his belly.
« You have to be aware that I am a greediest and laziest person you will ever meet in your life. I am a wild beast, a monster when it comes to food. I am decadent and now live to please myself. I am looking for feeling so full it hurts and for having an army of servant pampering me. I am not like the other royals you could have met. I have no manner. I am a messy eater, I am sloven, and I am proud of that. » He said, gesturing himself. « I am proud of each gram of fat I accumulated on this body. I am proud not being able to fit in my clothes, not to be able to fit anywhere, not to be able to run and fight. »
He looked at Stiles in the eyes. « So if you want to stay with me, you have to accept that. You even have to enjoy all of it. Could you be able to do that? »
« I think I will. » Stiles said holding Derek’s his eyes locked on Derek’s.
« Well, then, I will arrange your education on that matter, » he said, crashing the Viscount’s body on his blubber to kiss his cheek. « Now if you do not mind, I have a belly-business to attend, « he whispered to Stiles, waddling of the room.
———————
His education, on pleasuring the Prince, was put in the right hands of the Duke of Wayland. Stiles was relieved it was his friend and not the Duke of Elmwood. Scott was known for his infinite patience and his soft post for Stiles would make his education more pleasant.
He temporally moved at Wayland Castle and was being taught by Scott about the philosophy of their behaviour.
« It is the best feeling of the world, you know? said Scott, still digesting his lunch while snacking with candies. « For us, it is the equivalent of climaxing. Especially for the Prince. You can imagine that at his size, pleasuring himself is impossible. It starts to get hard enough for me. However, the feeling of your heavy gut jiggling and rubbing on your privates is addictive. So by then, just thinking of food excites me. » he said laughing and patting his substantial girth. « So we searched how to make it more pleasurable. That explains the feedings. For the Prince, three servants are feeding him, two rubbing his belly and other parts of his body and three others who refurbish the food. I do not have so many persons doing that for me, but it is just good to do nothing, to lay on my chair or my bed like a blob, and being gorged by whatever they put in my mouth while people are touching me. »
Stiles blushed deeply at the words - he remembered too well his experience with Isaac Lahey. Scott noticed it.
« I know you had a little experience with Isaac. It is okay, do not be ashamed by that. It is a common way to be intimate nowadays. Even if it was in a particular condition. » he smiled at his friend. « But with me, and even more with the Prince, it is way different. » After a moment, he explained himself. « I get different during those moments. Maybe it is because of lust or hunger, but it is like a beast possessed me. I can be rude and demanding, but my position gives me the right to. »
A beast, a monster that were the words used by both Scott and Derek. Could it be that bad? Sure he noticed their frenzy around food, but he did not see anything about their behaviour.
« Well then, I do not want to imagine how awful the Duke of Elmwood could get. » Stiles joked. His friend let out a hearty laugh.
« He is the worst. » Scott smiled. « I will be waiting for you in my chambers tonight, and we will see what you can do, » he said, patting his enormous belly.
CHAPTER 11
For the whole afternoon, Stiles thought about what he had to do. The Duke’s explanations were handy to him, so he could start to imagine how to please his friend.
During his stay in the United-Province, he heard so many discussions about what perverted games the nobles like to play. Even if he had no interest in those kinds of conversations, it gave him the perfect opportunity to listen and observe what people of his rank fancied. Not that he wanted to try, he was enriching his knowledge of the Court; after all, it could have been helpful.
He learned that some of them liked humiliation and other domination. Some enjoyed being teased and other role-plays. He just needed to experiment to see which ones were Scott’s and Derek’s favourites.
After Scott’s dinner, Stiles came as instructed. By this time Stiles entered the room, the Duke had already stripped naked and lowered his arse slowly on the armchair and moaned caressing his fat waistline.
« I made sure I left some room for your training, » he said winking at Stiles, who blushed.
« Can I ask a question before we begin? » Stiles said nervously as he came closer to the big man.
Scott grinned at him. « It is not like I was going anywhere, » he said, showing his full stomach.
« What do you like during those moments? I mean, do you like to be called a specific way? Encouraged? Tease? Humiliated? »
Scott's eyes got round. « Well, it is the first time someone asks me that. My servants call me master or My Lord, but they are my servants and do not talk You can call me Scott, I guess. » He said. « But do not overthink, Stiles. Just do it as you wish. So I am sure it will be great. » He added, smiling at his friend. « Shall we begin? » he said, snapping his fingers. Then the doors at the end of the room swung open, revealing a waiting servants wheeling desserts to their master.
« Put them on the table, » he said to Stiles. squeezing his monster-belly in his hands as his friend loaded the food onto the table.
« Now feed me with the chocolate cake. »
Stiles lifted a quarter of the cake and Scott opened his mouth and took a massive mouthful of it. He chewed and swallowed and opened his mouth for another bite.
« Faster.» Stiles complied, and soon, they had a steady rhythm going, the Duke eating cakes, pies, puddings, fruit tarts, even entire bowls of cream that Stiles brought to his mouth.
Stiles stopped, half an hour later, when he felt the Duke’s hand on his hip, his round messy with food face grinning at it.
The Duke yawned and stretched and scratched his belly, wobbling it. Stiles felt too hot at that moment. He felt his face growing hot, and his breath was shattered. This new experience was enjoying, and Scott made it really at the moment. Also, Scott looked like he noticed it. He smirked. « You like all this, don't you? » he asked, pressing one hand against his man-boobs which hung, soft, full and lazy on top of his big round middle.
« …I… » he began
« Don't be ashamed, » he said. « We both do… »
Stiles blushed, part of him ashamed of being caught up so quickly but also proud of his work with the feeding.
« You did well, but that was the easy part. » He said while grasping Stiles’ hip harder. « Now, massage my stomach while I finish, » Scott said. « And do it properly. » He growled, pointing his meaty thigh for Stiles to sit on.
« Yes Scott! » he said and crawled climbed on the Duke.
« It gives us more room to wolf down more and help the bloating. » He informed.
As Stiles started his massage, Scott moaned, and he belched loudly before he continued gorging.
« How does His Grace feel? » Asked Stiles.
« Like a hog. Nothing new here. » He said as the Duke reached out and lifted up an entire bowl of chocolate mousse and gulping it down.
« Tell me what a pig I am, » he ordered.
« Well, I think we could rename you the Hog of Wayland. » Stiles said, hoping his chose of words would be adequate.
« Oh yeah, » said Scott, moaning louder.
« You ate like a total hog tonight you ate more then I could ever eat in a month in one sitting, Scottie McChub, » said Sties as he started massaging faster and more forcefully, now, to relieve bloating. He squeezed and pressed firmly as if he was playing with Scott’s belly, and the boy moaned and kept eating.
« At the rate, you're going, you will be five hundred pounds by your next birthday, and Jackson will be so jealous. »
« Oh, God. » He belched loudly, and Stiles kept rubbing. He could feel the belly in front of him, expanding and filling with more and more food as Scott gorger himself.
Stiles could tell he was doing pretty good because the Duke was enjoying this. Apart from the size of his swelled paunch, he could feel His Grace’s enjoyment.
Stiles grabbed his massive underbelly with a firm hand, and Scott squirmed in his chair, then started kneading it when he felt a thick hand gripping wrist and push his hand harder in the fat pad.
Scott finished his feast with an expression of bliss on his face. Then heard the Duke let out a great moan of pleasure and Stiles considered his job well done.
« How does my Hog of Wayland feel? » Stiles asked.
Scott grinned and panted, sweat breaking out on his forehead.
« Wonderful, » Scott said. « If I did not know better, I would say you did that all your life. »
Then, the Duke saw the Viscount pouring some remain of chocolate sauce own his neck and grinned wickedly at him.
« Look, Tiny, you forgot to eat some of it. » Then the Duke launched himself at the boy and grabbed him before licking the Viscount’s neck while his friend handled his love handles. The Viscount was going to be perfect for Derek.
———————-
Letter IV
From His Grace the Duke of Wayland to His Serene Highness the Reigning Sovereign of Beacon
Your Highness,
I am pleased to retort the progress on the education of Viscount of Fox Point.
It has been a month now since you send him to me and I must say it was an honour to fulfil this duty.
I am happy to say the Viscount found great enjoyment in training with me. Even during my first time with him, I was flabbergasted to see he was a natural. Focussed on his mission to feed me, he is gentle and delicate. We tried different situations concerning the pleasure time of massaging my girth, and it was as if someone had taken over him. Gone was the innocent, shy and delicate man. He was replaced by a fearless, obsessed and horny one.
His long fingers were touching every part of my body. His usually sweet tongue was filled with teasing, he gave me the official title of Hog of Wayland, encouragement and promises of more pleasure. Driven by his urge to fatten me up, by his own words, he sometimes surprises me with an impromptu feeding, being most of the time challenging, taking advantage of my laziness and fullness to make me waddle in my whole castle. Treasure hunt he said, where the final prize was him covered in melted chocolate.
Concerning what you were scared about, I think he finds our figure attractive. On several occasions, he told me how beautiful I was, how imposing I am looking and took over my cleaning and clothing to touch me. So fear not my liege, if he cannot keep his hands off of me, he will be attached to you and your humongous measurements.
Also, I may add, hoping not to be too forward, I enjoy the size difference between the both of us. He is so light like a feather when he uses my belly as a pillow. He looks so fragile, and every time I touch or climb on him, I fear I will break his body. It gives me a feeling of almighty.
As an advice, I think he could bury himself under much pressure to please you. Much more than needed. If our relationship is principally based on friendship, it is different from you so that he might be intimidated. Even if I know you enjoy using your bulk to impressed people, be gentle and patient with him.
Your friend,
CHAPTER 12
"The meeting went well," Isaac told Stiles. "The Lords are pleased with the improvements you implemented."
"I am glad they approved," Stiles answered, slowing his pace as Isaac was struggling to keep up with him.
Three years ago, Scott had sent a new Stiles to the Prince. His education in pleasuring Derek completed. And he did well even if, at first, he didn't get the measure of Derek's appetite and lust for gluttony. But he adapted.
Soon, he had controlled all the meals of the Prince, insisting on secluding him for days to stuff him with all the food the cooks could provide. And Prince Derek liked that. He was dependent on the Viscount. He relied on him to fulfil his deep desires and decadent fantasies. Stiles was pleased to comply with the royal beast. Then, one day, Derek realised he could not live properly without the noble and decided to surprise Stiles by giving him the only thing he was craving for: his love.
As the dawn was breaking the sky, an asleep Stiles was laying against as a large, soft, cuddly body spooned up behind him.
As his body had begun to move closer to the soft mass, he heard a soft chuckle behind him as he felt tender kisses along his neck.
"Marry me," had said Derek's husky voice.
So he did. It was the happiest day of his life. Everything was marvellous, rich, gold and decadent, of course.
For months they organised balls, parties, celebrations and that allowed Derek to fall into an unstoppable food frenzy for most of their first year of marriage. Then, things did not change after that. Derek was still relying on him as he was craving for his gluttony sessions with his husband, but he had always found time to rule the Principality until it was not enough for him.
For their first anniversary, Stiles had arranged a decadent show of shameless gluttony for the Prince and higher Lords. So, Stiles stared at all night long watching him being fed like a hog, watching the three nobles struggling to breathe, uncomfortable in their chairs while servant-boys were driving them on the very edge of their monstrous bellies' capacity.
This show of total, unashamed, hoggish, masochistic gluttony was almost too much for Stiles! But by now, he had accepted the enjoyment of seeing his husband like that was giving him.
Then, in his state of bloated euphoria, Derek admitted he wanted to be like that for the rest of his life before resuming his anniversary feeding.
After every single crumb, chocolate, strawberry and cherry was shoved down his throat before the entire Court, his servants entered to carry the gluttonous Prince from the hall.
That was when Derek made his declaration. "You will reign for me, husband."
That was two years ago.
"How is His Highness doing?" Asked Isaac as he was finishing his box of Turkish delights.
When he had given up his role of sovereign, Stiles had made sure to give Derek what he wanted. Stiles had confined his husband in his new apartments built of vast-richly decorated rooms, private access to the royal gardens and a pool. In here, the Prince was living his best life, being fed and pampered nights and days by a hundred servants. While the new Prince Consort had replaced his husband but introduced to this rooms of pleasure the Duke of Elmwood and the Duke of Wayland to keep Derek company.
The two Graces did not need to be asked twice. Scott was willing to spend his life with the Prince, and especially being treated like one. Jackson had been more reluctant but soon installed himself permanently in the Palace.
Of course, this new regimen of uninterrupted feedings, massages, food comas and leisure had taken a toll on their waistlines.
Scott, as Stiles had suspected, was fully committed to growing himself. Afterall, he was like Derek: hungry, greedy and lazy. Stile had witnessed that during his initiation. He had seen the way his friend's personality had changed during his pleasure time. So now, his greedy and spoilt nature had overridden his pleasant and kind behaviour. Not that Stiles could complain. He liked that and had loved to see his best friend in such a state of hoggishness. Not that Derek had minded, being himself in perpetual, gluttonous bliss, but Stiles enjoyed the time spent with the Duke of Wayland. Their teasing was still in full force, especially as Scott had blown up so big he was on the verge of losing his mobility. Stiles would make him waddle in the gardens promising food; he would place the plates of cakes to far from Scott cushions, simply to see him wriggle his distended and fat-engorged body to grab pastries.
Jackson was another thing. He had a great appetite and was born spoiled-rotten, but he was not into being so greedy at first. For him, putting on weight, as aphrodisiacal as it was, was a question of fashion. Since the Prince significant expansion, he had felt obliged to put on as much as possible to keep his rank at Court. The Duke had always wanted to be the best and made sure he employed all the means to. He was now as big as the Prince when Stiles went back to Court. His personality had not changed. He was still arrogant and spoilt, but, to Stiles' enjoyment, he was slowly taking example on his sovereign.
The Private Secretary often spent time with them. Officially to summarise on the actions of the Regency, but mostly to enjoy the royal treatment of his friends. Since he was not spending all his time there, he only had put on a hundred pounds. Still, the man was massive compared to Stiles and the other heftier Lords, and their private work sessions often turned into a feeding session for Isaac that Stiles was too happy to provide. Afterall, Isaac had been the first man he had ever fed and certainly the only one he could satisfy, because he was smaller than his other friends and because Isaac was too polite to mention his private feeding sessions following the ones with Stiles.
Their privileged connection had been blessed by Derek, whom Stiles could no longer pleasure, alone, in his needs and urges.
Speaking of the Prince, he was the embodiment of Gargantua, lying naked and bloated on his throne; a dozen of servants on either side of him, feeding him numerous bites of food off of several trolleys while four others were rubbing and massaging his mountainous stomach.
As for the "throne", Derek was slumped on, it was an impressive creation born from necessity. It had been months since his husband had become immobile, so Stiles as commissioned a new royal throne they used when Derek as to host the feasts and balls during the season. It was not a traditional chair, is not a chair at all. It was a gigantic bed, with a thick mattress, frame made of gold, jewels and exquisite sheets. It was easier to move him that way even if dozen of servants were needed to push it.
As luxurious as it was and as robust as it looked, hundreds and hundreds of pounds mercilessly crushed the bed, the Prince's stomach filling the bed with its numerous rolls of heavy blubber. The Prince's face was unrecognisable, almost porcine as it was encased in fat, rounded by rotund jowls and chins.
"He is doing fine. I am going to join him this evening. You should join him. He will be happy to see you, Isaac." Stiles offered.
"Will he?" The Private Secretary asked. Stiles just nodded, he perfectly knew his husband might be happy to see his trusted friend, but he was now so disconnected from reality that he would not notice it. Stiles being the exception, the Prince was addressing the others only with grunts, short orders and no sense of civility anymore. Not that Isaac really would honestly mind as Stiles suspected he only wanted to enjoy few servants stuffing him beyond his capacities.
"I have to write to the Marchioness about the new economic plan I want to pass. She might have some ideas."
Lydia was one of the most trusted advisors Stiles had, and she had been more than happy to take other the Duchy of Elmwood when it had become clear Jackson would never be able to get out of the Palace. She even was in charge of Scott's lands in Wayland as the Duke obviously forgot about his responsibilities. Stiles hated to have his closest ally so far from him, but he knew how much Lydia enjoyed showing her powers.
In his letter, he would ask her opinion about potential matches from the Prince's son, Crown Prince Alexander, who was twelve now. Unlike his father, he was fair-haired but shared his deep green eyes. They were sharing the same taste in luxury and laziness as the child would not do a single thing by himself. Moreover, the chubby little child Stiles had met, was now the epitome of teenage obesity, and Stiles predicted he would soon pick or even surpass his father's taste for extreme gluttony. However, for now, he was of age to be promised to a noble lady and Stiles was sure the boy would have many choices if he stopped being so engrossed in eating.
At that, Isaac bowed, with difficulties as his ample belly was preventing him from bending too far.
"I will see you later," Stiles said absentmindedly, before freeing his corpulent advisor. He had many things to consult with Lydia, notably the Grand Tour of the Principality they had planned. He had to make sure of the capacities of the Lords to welcome their Prince properly.
THE END