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Description
Her service was a popular one for travelers, and her booth almost never had an empty day. Her name was Marna, sorceress, and she sold her magical skills in the form of teleporting customers wherever they wanted, as long as they paid.

"Skip the journey, save your feet!", the signs read. There were handwritten accounts of the marvelous sensation of Traveling the Magical Way, signed by satisfied customers and read with wonder by those considering her service. "Unlimited range", she claimed, "all in an instant, no harmful side effects*!" There was a smaller sign below reading, "*Offer declined to those with child or under the age of four."

The sorceress sat in her colorful booth in the fairground during the day, and went back to her house in the large town for the night, though she was always prepared to offer her services. She had pale skin, long, raven-black hair with a dark blue tinge, and kind eyes nearly the same color set into a subtly wrinkled face. She looked to be about thirty-nine or forty. Her usual dress was dark blue with very subtle star patterns around the hem, and fit her well but was still very modest.

When a customer paid the fee, she smiled, ask where they were going this fine day, and when she had the answer, grasped the customer's head, closed her eyes, murmured the incantation, and the customer was gone in a light puff of blue smoke, never enough to really obscure anyone's vision.

On one day, a rare thing happened - there was a disturbance in the usually peaceful town. A thief, a young woman of very loose morals, had broken out of the town's small jail and run to Marna's booth as a quick escape.

"Quickly! Send me away from here, far away, or I'll slice your throat!" she said desperately to Marna.

Marna, eager to save herself, placed her hands on the thief's head, intending to teleport her back into jail. But when she was preparing to send her, she felt the presence of a child in the thief, no doubt from some affair. Marna took her hands off the girl's head and said, "I cannot send you. I am sorry, but it is too dangerous."

The thief, sweating, looked around and saw the guards running her way. "No time," she said, clamped Marna's hands to her head, and spoke the incantation herself. The words drew power from the nearby sorceress, and the teleport started, but misfired.

Marna spoke into the thief's head in the moment as the fissure opened, "Damned fool! There was a reason I could send no pregnant women! You are with child, and now that child has gone into me. A sorceress' child is a strange thing, and this one I can sense... it will grow inside me for ten years, and require much feeding. I will be a monstrously huge thing by the time I give birth, and yet it will be a babe as any other. For your crimes, and for what you have done to me, I give you a destination: into me, as its first meal!"

And the thief fell into the fissure of the teleport, and it turned into that of the sorceress' innards as she fell, screaming, to her reward. Marna's stomach expanded greatly outward to contain all of its new tenants, and she held her great, still-soft stomach, unused to the great mass it now contained. Marna's breasts started to pulse, and she could feel that the giant baby would eventually cause her body to produce giant amounts of milk, another inconvenience. Her dress had torn off from being asked to contain so much more than it had been made for.

In that instant she wove a glamour around herself, casting the illusion of a small shack over where her belly, now full with a baby already grown halfway to a normal full term, and the unlucky thief who had conceived it. All the guards saw was the thief screaming as she was consumed by the portal, in front of a normal, clothed Marna.

"She is dead," said Marna. "She was pregnant, and ignored the warnings. I could not stop her."

The guards grumbled about the paperwork that would require, and returned the way they came in due time, mopping their brows.

Marna looked down at her newfound weight. "Now, how am I going to feed you, I wonder?" And as she spoke those words, she realized that what she had just done could be repeatable. It was a wicked thing, she knew, but better than to die and let an immature sorceress' child on the loose. She set her jaw, rubbed her flesh, feeling the thief's kicks against her gut growing weaker as the pain of digestion and lack of air overcame her, and decided that that was what she would do.

The next day was to be a small fair. That was when she would perfect her method. No doubt travelers would come - they would not be missed.

Early the next morning, she had shored up the glamour on her "shack" and herself, set an additional spell of acceptance around herself so that none would question any changes or failures to change, and waited for some customers. She knew that she could not take all of them, and that she should leave the ones from her town to make sure no suspicion was aroused - but she would have a good pick tomorrow, and time to think over her methods of selection.

She was first approached by a townswoman, a woman named Laura. Marna felt herself hungering for the girl, so soft, but knew she would be missed. And so she sent Laura to where Laura wanted to go. The next people to come up were a family of four, and she toyed with the idea of having mom, dad and kids as food for her eternally hungry child, but thought again that they would be missed too strongly, strangers as they were.

She felt herself getting desperately hungry, and looked down to see her baby had grown to about a foot from her belly, with no sign of the thief left. Her breasts had swollen about half an inch more around, and hung more heavily as she propped herself up within her glamour to accept customers.

There was a godsend, then: a tanned traveler who obviously had spent most of his recent life on the road, who asked in a heavy accent she could not identifyto be sent to a place she had never heard of, with an exotic name. "This one will work", she thought to herself as she went through the process. As she was about to teleport him, she extended the glamour and warped him instead into her stomach, which swelled out again with flexibility given by the child. He was tired, and struggled very little. This satisfied her, but she knew that it would not be long before she must feed again.

There was a bounty of visitors that day. Eight of them were suitable, and four she took, enjoying the sensation of them dropping into her engorged gut more and more every time. By the end of the day, her little shack had become a small hovel. As she was magically cleaning herself, she thought that she would have to sell her house in the town to keep the illusion over her belly believable. She would have the property man called over tomorrow. But now it was nightfall, and no worries or visitors were there to intrude; and she looked down upon herself.

Her stomach had settled from the last of the struggling, and had been expanded to perhaps six feet in diameter, a ridiculous size that Marna knew would be surpassed and surpassed, increased upon exponentially before the pregnancy was over. She could feel the nutrients from her victims flowing to her satiated child, who was growing as she sat there; her breasts had grown another inch out from her chest and were quite round, mounds of flesh swollen with milk. Her limbs had plumped up almost imperceptibly, but that would not be as major a problem as the three orbs which were growing from her midsection.

"I'll only be getting bigger from here," she thought, "so I might as well start liking it." She rubbed her stomach, bending her head over it and feeling her chin settle into the growing cleavage that lay heavily on her massive belly. It was still very soft, having not fully digested. She felt at points like she was sinking into it, sinking into her own womb, her mother's womb, feeling the warmth and life of birth and the stomach. She continued rubbing her stomach, and while she realized that she could no longer reach around her girth, her hands slowly traveled up and started playing with her breasts. She panted as she rubbed her sensitive, swollen tits, playing with her nipples and in all ways deeply enjoying her new body.

She thought, with growing joy, that this was just the beginning. She was sorry for the lives she had to take, but it was so very much worth it for this ecstasy. There was another fair tomorrow, and many more throughout the years, especially in this large, festive town. And one or two townspeople would not be missed, particularly if they were off traveling far, or simply leaving. Yes, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, looking down at her new form, life is going to be very good indeed.

--- PART 2 ---

Marna awoke early on the morning of the third day of her unusual pregnancy. She looked at herself, and saw perhaps three victims' worth of mass from yesterday's four had been digested, leaving some squish to her gut. The child had continued growing through the night, and Marna guessed that the child in there was about a foot and a half around, more than full term but not big enough for twins. Her stomach had rounded and firmed, and was now only maybe three, three and a half feet in diameter, and her breasts had engorged themselves another quarter inch.

"Well, that's good," she thought, considering her body, "I haven't finished digesting... for now, at least, I'll be able to keep ahead of the babe's hunger."

The town had another fair that day. Sometimes it seemed that was the only thing the town ever did, was have fairs. It didn't make sense to her, but the town's bankers seemed happy, and it certainly attracted lots of travelers. Marna checked the glamours for any weaknesses or flaws while there was still no one around, strengthening the acceptance spell and the illusion over herself, and decided to expand the illusory hovel over her gut into a small house, in preparation for the day's eating. It was still dark, and not a soul was around to see the revised enchantments being laid.

By the time the fair began, and people started flowing past her booth, Marna had digested the last of yesterday's food, and the baby, grown to the size of full twins and alone inside the taut skin of her belly. Marna's breasts had grown a little again, as well.

She had her service available as always, and for the first few hours she had only a few customers. She felt her child starting to stir, her belly moaning, and knew that if traffic didn't pick up, she might be in trouble. While she was worrying about this, the town's land manager came in response to her earlier call. Negotiations over selling Marna's old house went slowly.

"So, what do you want done with the items inside of your house? Furniture, art, valuables, silverware, that sort of thing?" He was a thin man, balding and stiff, yet still giving off an impression of oiliness. He was not the kind of man Marna would have chosen, but if she had been less capable of keeping her painful hunger in check, he would have been the first victim of the day.

She knew, however, that he was far too important for the town to take - and besides, he would not be traveling anywhere. "Everything I need, I already have with me," she said, in total honesty. A bonus of being a sorceress was being able to sustain a pocket of space that could be magically accessed and used for storage. "Anything still in that old house can be auctioned off."

"Excellent," he replied with a thin smile, "When shall I set the date for the auction?"

"Whenever is most convenient for you," she said, still working hard to suppress the urge to feed, "I will not be present."

"It is a pleasure doing business with you, as always, Miss Marna."

"Thank you," she said, laying a hand on her 'house', "and now I must serve my customers, so if you could please clear the booth?"

"Certainly, my dear. Have a good day now." And with that, he walked off, small case in hand, straightening his clothes.

She was relieved to have him gone, and was greeted almost immediately by a sunburnt traveler. "I have heard of your service," he said, "and require passage to the bay that lies around fifty miles east of here."

"I know the place," she said, hardly able to keep from drooling, "just pay me and bend your head." He did so, and she teleported him down. Her aim was a little high, though, and he nearly got caught before falling into her stomach. She was still coughing when his struggling started, but her relief from hunger could not be dampened as she rubbed her sides, glancing around to check that no one would see her feeling her house.

The baby, placated, started growing noticeably with the first victim. She was irked that she'd need to find someone else to take so quickly, but reassured herself with the thought that the child's growth would be quickest the first week. Besides, the fair was beginning to truly swing along, and visitors starting flowing to her booth.

She had taken three others before noon, and was slightly larger than she had been at yesterday's peak. But the child continued growing, and she continued feeding. There were another twelve travelers from out of town, more than she had expected, and five of them went to fuel her growth. By the end of the day, the illusory house over her belly had been filled to its limit, and she knew she would need another room or so for the next day.

As the sun set and the last of the fairgoers left for their homes, she found herself alone again. She had already digested her earliest victim, and the rest had stopped struggling, having died of asphyxiation before they could be eaten away by the acids inside her. Her child was kept growing, inside of her, and she wondered how big it would be the next morning. Triplet-sized? Quadruplets? She could feel her breasts beginning to put on weight, as well, and she thought that they might add another inch each overnight.

She thought again of how the child's growth, and the growth it caused to her bosom, would slow down greatly after a little while. Its appetite would stay the same, but at least her 'house' would not have to grow too much and attract attention, and it would be a while before her boobs really got in the way of her arms. Still, she had ten years to go, and could not have hazarded a guess at what size she would be by the end of it.

But, she thought as the night slipped on, those worries would be accounted for in due time. For now, she was alone, and could enjoy herself, as she had the night before. Might as well make a habit of it. She rubbed herself, feeling the great, soft distension of her middle, soft enough that she could push it in an inch and a half comfortably - very comfortably - it felt good. She rubbed around as much of her mass as she could, squeezing her belly and jiggling it around a bit. Her hips were starting to move apart a little, and she felt around her legs, her hips, her buttocks, feeling how they had changed, little by little, since the business began. As before, her hands slid up, and she realized it was now totally impossible to fit a breast all the way into one hand - it would perhaps cover most of the front face of the tit, barely curving around at all. They were swollen up and sensitive, but still soft, and just for the hell of it, she licked one. It was an odd sensation. She pleasured herself in the traditional way, as well, in the thought that with all the mass she would be adding to herself, she would soon not be able to reach down there to do so.

As she lay there, her huge belly pressuring and spilling far over her legs, her growing, engorged breasts resting heavily on top of the table her stomach created, she knew that it would come to an end eventually. She knew that it was for the best that it should end, that this child was turning her into a pointless, monstrous eating machine that would grow and grow and grow, that her only way to get food killed people, that she would need more and more as time went on and that the weight on her soul would be more immense than the weight in her body. But she needed it done, to prevent a premature birth that would bring chaos and death on the region, to prevent her own death. She could at least enjoy the feeling of life, of fullness and satisfaction, of the almost sexual, hell, more than sexual ecstasy of it while it lasted. She would miss that feeling, she knew, but her life would go on. At least, she thought, the child would keep her young. That was something to look forward to.

--- PART 3 ---

A sorceress' child has a very strange development in the womb, growing truly massive and requiring literally tons on tons of food over its very, very long gestation, usually taking ten to twelve years, but being delivered as a normal-sized child in the end. If the mother does not get enough food for the child while it is developing, the mother dies, and the child goes on a magically fueled rampage. It must be kept very secret, as the mother's monstrous size can frighten common people into ill-considered action, particularly if the sorceress has chosen an unsavory way of getting food.

Sorcery very rarely runs down the maternal line; when the gift comes to a girl, she almost never has a child. Sorcerers have it off easier: a baby born of a sorcerer's mate is quite normal, save for having the gift itself. No child can be born of a sorcerer and a sorceress.

The child of a sorceress does bring some benefits: the woman does not age, she becomes immune to sickness and heals quickly from injury, and her magical powers are permanently and greatly increased. Some of the most powerful sorceresses have had multiple chilren, and the added power makes each one easier to get food for. One of the most potent, a horrible tyrant and rather a bitch who held control of a large nation for centuries and used its production largely to feed herself, had triplets in her massive belly constantly and had the children put to death as soon as they came out. Most sorceresses, however, avoid sex like the plague for fear of having a child.

Marna, sorceress, had been pregnant for ten years since a freak teleportation accident involving a criminal, a young woman who'd stolen and worse, and as it turned out, gotten herself knocked up. Marna then started using her teleportation booth as cover for teleport-assisted cannibalism to feed the child, using its increased magical power to weave glamours, illusions and suggestions around her growing bulk.

To the townsfolk, she sat in her booth, fully clothed and normal, facing the house she had built against her booth, in the middle of the town's fairground. They saw her place her hands on customer's heads and warp them away, always with a small puff of blue smoke, not enough to obscure vision.

The house she had built was only an illusion around her massive girth, and she sat naked in her booth, very, very pregnant. The house had begun as only a small shack, and was now practically a small mansion. No one ever touched the house, went in or out, but no one would have told you that this was unusual. Some of her teleports did not send the customer, usually a stranger or traveler, to their destination, but instead to the inside of Marna's stomach to be turned into nutrients for her child.

Marna had grown much since the accident. If she had known much of the ocean, she might have compared her great belly to a medium-sized whale, stretching yard on absurd yard through the illusion she had woven around it, and most likely weighing over a ton in soft, maternal flesh. This world was not modern enough to have beach balls, as well, so she had no adequate thing to compare her breasts to. They were, indeed, the size of large beach balls, if somewhat more elongated. They stretched to arm's length away from her chest, and they were more than half as wide and tall, swollen with many gallons of milk. She could hardly reach the end of them, and had to be very careful that they kept laying on her belly in a stable position, for she could not have lifted them back had they fallen.The child inside of her would have stood perhaps twenty feet tall, the size of a statue, and each additional victim of Marna's hardly added much size to her anymore.

She had to keep eating to sustain the child, even through this, the last day - she would deliver the following morning. The sensation of each person's weight dropping into her was one she had had a long time to appreciate, but was still as perfectly, sensually delightful as the first time. She would not have cut down her diet if she could have - the joy was so great that the pregnancy had very nearly become an excuse by this point. She took particular enjoyment from feeling her body, feeling the vast maternal weight of herself, her form grown gargantuan and so very soft, feeling her engorged feminine form. It was perfect, magnificent, and yet tender.

The town had one of its many fairs that day, as it did almost every day, and she worked around her mass with the practice of years. She had six victims that day, each one falling one by one with the same satisfying, weighty thud into her cavernous interior. When the day was done, she went through the same moaning, panting, deeply satisfying routing of feeling as much of herself as could be reached, starting at the ass, working up her back, the front of her belly, spending a long time playing with the great, soft orbs of her chest, squeezing them, toying with her stiffening nipples, lost in a personal Utopia of feeling.

She was brought back down to earth when, for the first time, she felt a little leak from her chest. The hour had grown late with her pleasure, and she knew that dawn was only a few hours away. She knew that she would deliver then, and contemplated it, looking down at her now flowing, sensitive breasts. She would miss her body, would miss the feeling of consuming so much and being so fantastically large. She would never have that feeling again. Would it leave a hole in her life? She wondered. Would she ever be able to enjoy anything, ever again, knowing how much greater this had been?

On the other side, she had heard so much over her life of the joys of motherhood. She did have that to look forward to. She would also be able to move again, be able to see some different scenery. The idea that she would no longer be taking lives flitted across her mind briefly, but her conscience was so hardened by all the years, all the thousands of victims, that she hardly gave it any thought at all. For that matter, she could still take the occasional victim after the birth if she wanted.

She was trapped in a dilemma, and she knew that she could actually do something about it. Over the past year, she had sent for books of magic, and studied much. She had found a way that she could use to prevent the birth, be eternally pregnant. She could run the stand forever, growing ever larger and larger, never growing old and always knowing the marvelous sensation she had treasured these past ten years. But should she do it? She pondered, weighing the options, considering, thinking harder about her situation than she had for a decade.

She could see the sky just barely beginning to lighten, and as her breasts grew even more tender, flowing freely with sweet mother's milk, felt herself beginning to pulse from the child down to the sensitive privates that she had not seen for so long. She knew that she did not have long to make her choice, and mere minutes before the sun poked over the horizon, she had made her decision.

Description
Her service was a popular one for travelers, and her booth almost never had an empty day. Her name was Marna, sorceress, and she sold her magical skills in the form of teleporting customers wherever they wanted, as long as they paid.

"Skip the journey, save your feet!", the signs read. There were handwritten accounts of the marvelous sensation of Traveling the Magical Way, signed by satisfied customers and read with wonder by those considering her service. "Unlimited range", she claimed, "all in an instant, no harmful side effects*!" There was a smaller sign below reading, "*Offer declined to those with child or under the age of four."

The sorceress sat in her colorful booth in the fairground during the day, and went back to her house in the large town for the night, though she was always prepared to offer her services. She had pale skin, long, raven-black hair with a dark blue tinge, and kind eyes nearly the same color set into a subtly wrinkled face. She looked to be about thirty-nine or forty. Her usual dress was dark blue with very subtle star patterns around the hem, and fit her well but was still very modest.

When a customer paid the fee, she smiled, ask where they were going this fine day, and when she had the answer, grasped the customer's head, closed her eyes, murmured the incantation, and the customer was gone in a light puff of blue smoke, never enough to really obscure anyone's vision.

On one day, a rare thing happened - there was a disturbance in the usually peaceful town. A thief, a young woman of very loose morals, had broken out of the town's small jail and run to Marna's booth as a quick escape.

"Quickly! Send me away from here, far away, or I'll slice your throat!" she said desperately to Marna.

Marna, eager to save herself, placed her hands on the thief's head, intending to teleport her back into jail. But when she was preparing to send her, she felt the presence of a child in the thief, no doubt from some affair. Marna took her hands off the girl's head and said, "I cannot send you. I am sorry, but it is too dangerous."

The thief, sweating, looked around and saw the guards running her way. "No time," she said, clamped Marna's hands to her head, and spoke the incantation herself. The words drew power from the nearby sorceress, and the teleport started, but misfired.

Marna spoke into the thief's head in the moment as the fissure opened, "Damned fool! There was a reason I could send no pregnant women! You are with child, and now that child has gone into me. A sorceress' child is a strange thing, and this one I can sense... it will grow inside me for ten years, and require much feeding. I will be a monstrously huge thing by the time I give birth, and yet it will be a babe as any other. For your crimes, and for what you have done to me, I give you a destination: into me, as its first meal!"

And the thief fell into the fissure of the teleport, and it turned into that of the sorceress' innards as she fell, screaming, to her reward. Marna's stomach expanded greatly outward to contain all of its new tenants, and she held her great, still-soft stomach, unused to the great mass it now contained. Marna's breasts started to pulse, and she could feel that the giant baby would eventually cause her body to produce giant amounts of milk, another inconvenience. Her dress had torn off from being asked to contain so much more than it had been made for.

In that instant she wove a glamour around herself, casting the illusion of a small shack over where her belly, now full with a baby already grown halfway to a normal full term, and the unlucky thief who had conceived it. All the guards saw was the thief screaming as she was consumed by the portal, in front of a normal, clothed Marna.

"She is dead," said Marna. "She was pregnant, and ignored the warnings. I could not stop her."

The guards grumbled about the paperwork that would require, and returned the way they came in due time, mopping their brows.

Marna looked down at her newfound weight. "Now, how am I going to feed you, I wonder?" And as she spoke those words, she realized that what she had just done could be repeatable. It was a wicked thing, she knew, but better than to die and let an immature sorceress' child on the loose. She set her jaw, rubbed her flesh, feeling the thief's kicks against her gut growing weaker as the pain of digestion and lack of air overcame her, and decided that that was what she would do.

The next day was to be a small fair. That was when she would perfect her method. No doubt travelers would come - they would not be missed.

Early the next morning, she had shored up the glamour on her "shack" and herself, set an additional spell of acceptance around herself so that none would question any changes or failures to change, and waited for some customers. She knew that she could not take all of them, and that she should leave the ones from her town to make sure no suspicion was aroused - but she would have a good pick tomorrow, and time to think over her methods of selection.

She was first approached by a townswoman, a woman named Laura. Marna felt herself hungering for the girl, so soft, but knew she would be missed. And so she sent Laura to where Laura wanted to go. The next people to come up were a family of four, and she toyed with the idea of having mom, dad and kids as food for her eternally hungry child, but thought again that they would be missed too strongly, strangers as they were.

She felt herself getting desperately hungry, and looked down to see her baby had grown to about a foot from her belly, with no sign of the thief left. Her breasts had swollen about half an inch more around, and hung more heavily as she propped herself up within her glamour to accept customers.

There was a godsend, then: a tanned traveler who obviously had spent most of his recent life on the road, who asked in a heavy accent she could not identifyto be sent to a place she had never heard of, with an exotic name. "This one will work", she thought to herself as she went through the process. As she was about to teleport him, she extended the glamour and warped him instead into her stomach, which swelled out again with flexibility given by the child. He was tired, and struggled very little. This satisfied her, but she knew that it would not be long before she must feed again.

There was a bounty of visitors that day. Eight of them were suitable, and four she took, enjoying the sensation of them dropping into her engorged gut more and more every time. By the end of the day, her little shack had become a small hovel. As she was magically cleaning herself, she thought that she would have to sell her house in the town to keep the illusion over her belly believable. She would have the property man called over tomorrow. But now it was nightfall, and no worries or visitors were there to intrude; and she looked down upon herself.

Her stomach had settled from the last of the struggling, and had been expanded to perhaps six feet in diameter, a ridiculous size that Marna knew would be surpassed and surpassed, increased upon exponentially before the pregnancy was over. She could feel the nutrients from her victims flowing to her satiated child, who was growing as she sat there; her breasts had grown another inch out from her chest and were quite round, mounds of flesh swollen with milk. Her limbs had plumped up almost imperceptibly, but that would not be as major a problem as the three orbs which were growing from her midsection.

"I'll only be getting bigger from here," she thought, "so I might as well start liking it." She rubbed her stomach, bending her head over it and feeling her chin settle into the growing cleavage that lay heavily on her massive belly. It was still very soft, having not fully digested. She felt at points like she was sinking into it, sinking into her own womb, her mother's womb, feeling the warmth and life of birth and the stomach. She continued rubbing her stomach, and while she realized that she could no longer reach around her girth, her hands slowly traveled up and started playing with her breasts. She panted as she rubbed her sensitive, swollen tits, playing with her nipples and in all ways deeply enjoying her new body.

She thought, with growing joy, that this was just the beginning. She was sorry for the lives she had to take, but it was so very much worth it for this ecstasy. There was another fair tomorrow, and many more throughout the years, especially in this large, festive town. And one or two townspeople would not be missed, particularly if they were off traveling far, or simply leaving. Yes, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, looking down at her new form, life is going to be very good indeed.

--- PART 2 ---

Marna awoke early on the morning of the third day of her unusual pregnancy. She looked at herself, and saw perhaps three victims' worth of mass from yesterday's four had been digested, leaving some squish to her gut. The child had continued growing through the night, and Marna guessed that the child in there was about a foot and a half around, more than full term but not big enough for twins. Her stomach had rounded and firmed, and was now only maybe three, three and a half feet in diameter, and her breasts had engorged themselves another quarter inch.

"Well, that's good," she thought, considering her body, "I haven't finished digesting... for now, at least, I'll be able to keep ahead of the babe's hunger."

The town had another fair that day. Sometimes it seemed that was the only thing the town ever did, was have fairs. It didn't make sense to her, but the town's bankers seemed happy, and it certainly attracted lots of travelers. Marna checked the glamours for any weaknesses or flaws while there was still no one around, strengthening the acceptance spell and the illusion over herself, and decided to expand the illusory hovel over her gut into a small house, in preparation for the day's eating. It was still dark, and not a soul was around to see the revised enchantments being laid.

By the time the fair began, and people started flowing past her booth, Marna had digested the last of yesterday's food, and the baby, grown to the size of full twins and alone inside the taut skin of her belly. Marna's breasts had grown a little again, as well.

She had her service available as always, and for the first few hours she had only a few customers. She felt her child starting to stir, her belly moaning, and knew that if traffic didn't pick up, she might be in trouble. While she was worrying about this, the town's land manager came in response to her earlier call. Negotiations over selling Marna's old house went slowly.

"So, what do you want done with the items inside of your house? Furniture, art, valuables, silverware, that sort of thing?" He was a thin man, balding and stiff, yet still giving off an impression of oiliness. He was not the kind of man Marna would have chosen, but if she had been less capable of keeping her painful hunger in check, he would have been the first victim of the day.

She knew, however, that he was far too important for the town to take - and besides, he would not be traveling anywhere. "Everything I need, I already have with me," she said, in total honesty. A bonus of being a sorceress was being able to sustain a pocket of space that could be magically accessed and used for storage. "Anything still in that old house can be auctioned off."

"Excellent," he replied with a thin smile, "When shall I set the date for the auction?"

"Whenever is most convenient for you," she said, still working hard to suppress the urge to feed, "I will not be present."

"It is a pleasure doing business with you, as always, Miss Marna."

"Thank you," she said, laying a hand on her 'house', "and now I must serve my customers, so if you could please clear the booth?"

"Certainly, my dear. Have a good day now." And with that, he walked off, small case in hand, straightening his clothes.

She was relieved to have him gone, and was greeted almost immediately by a sunburnt traveler. "I have heard of your service," he said, "and require passage to the bay that lies around fifty miles east of here."

"I know the place," she said, hardly able to keep from drooling, "just pay me and bend your head." He did so, and she teleported him down. Her aim was a little high, though, and he nearly got caught before falling into her stomach. She was still coughing when his struggling started, but her relief from hunger could not be dampened as she rubbed her sides, glancing around to check that no one would see her feeling her house.

The baby, placated, started growing noticeably with the first victim. She was irked that she'd need to find someone else to take so quickly, but reassured herself with the thought that the child's growth would be quickest the first week. Besides, the fair was beginning to truly swing along, and visitors starting flowing to her booth.

She had taken three others before noon, and was slightly larger than she had been at yesterday's peak. But the child continued growing, and she continued feeding. There were another twelve travelers from out of town, more than she had expected, and five of them went to fuel her growth. By the end of the day, the illusory house over her belly had been filled to its limit, and she knew she would need another room or so for the next day.

As the sun set and the last of the fairgoers left for their homes, she found herself alone again. She had already digested her earliest victim, and the rest had stopped struggling, having died of asphyxiation before they could be eaten away by the acids inside her. Her child was kept growing, inside of her, and she wondered how big it would be the next morning. Triplet-sized? Quadruplets? She could feel her breasts beginning to put on weight, as well, and she thought that they might add another inch each overnight.

She thought again of how the child's growth, and the growth it caused to her bosom, would slow down greatly after a little while. Its appetite would stay the same, but at least her 'house' would not have to grow too much and attract attention, and it would be a while before her boobs really got in the way of her arms. Still, she had ten years to go, and could not have hazarded a guess at what size she would be by the end of it.

But, she thought as the night slipped on, those worries would be accounted for in due time. For now, she was alone, and could enjoy herself, as she had the night before. Might as well make a habit of it. She rubbed herself, feeling the great, soft distension of her middle, soft enough that she could push it in an inch and a half comfortably - very comfortably - it felt good. She rubbed around as much of her mass as she could, squeezing her belly and jiggling it around a bit. Her hips were starting to move apart a little, and she felt around her legs, her hips, her buttocks, feeling how they had changed, little by little, since the business began. As before, her hands slid up, and she realized it was now totally impossible to fit a breast all the way into one hand - it would perhaps cover most of the front face of the tit, barely curving around at all. They were swollen up and sensitive, but still soft, and just for the hell of it, she licked one. It was an odd sensation. She pleasured herself in the traditional way, as well, in the thought that with all the mass she would be adding to herself, she would soon not be able to reach down there to do so.

As she lay there, her huge belly pressuring and spilling far over her legs, her growing, engorged breasts resting heavily on top of the table her stomach created, she knew that it would come to an end eventually. She knew that it was for the best that it should end, that this child was turning her into a pointless, monstrous eating machine that would grow and grow and grow, that her only way to get food killed people, that she would need more and more as time went on and that the weight on her soul would be more immense than the weight in her body. But she needed it done, to prevent a premature birth that would bring chaos and death on the region, to prevent her own death. She could at least enjoy the feeling of life, of fullness and satisfaction, of the almost sexual, hell, more than sexual ecstasy of it while it lasted. She would miss that feeling, she knew, but her life would go on. At least, she thought, the child would keep her young. That was something to look forward to.

--- PART 3 ---

A sorceress' child has a very strange development in the womb, growing truly massive and requiring literally tons on tons of food over its very, very long gestation, usually taking ten to twelve years, but being delivered as a normal-sized child in the end. If the mother does not get enough food for the child while it is developing, the mother dies, and the child goes on a magically fueled rampage. It must be kept very secret, as the mother's monstrous size can frighten common people into ill-considered action, particularly if the sorceress has chosen an unsavory way of getting food.

Sorcery very rarely runs down the maternal line; when the gift comes to a girl, she almost never has a child. Sorcerers have it off easier: a baby born of a sorcerer's mate is quite normal, save for having the gift itself. No child can be born of a sorcerer and a sorceress.

The child of a sorceress does bring some benefits: the woman does not age, she becomes immune to sickness and heals quickly from injury, and her magical powers are permanently and greatly increased. Some of the most powerful sorceresses have had multiple chilren, and the added power makes each one easier to get food for. One of the most potent, a horrible tyrant and rather a bitch who held control of a large nation for centuries and used its production largely to feed herself, had triplets in her massive belly constantly and had the children put to death as soon as they came out. Most sorceresses, however, avoid sex like the plague for fear of having a child.

Marna, sorceress, had been pregnant for ten years since a freak teleportation accident involving a criminal, a young woman who'd stolen and worse, and as it turned out, gotten herself knocked up. Marna then started using her teleportation booth as cover for teleport-assisted cannibalism to feed the child, using its increased magical power to weave glamours, illusions and suggestions around her growing bulk.

To the townsfolk, she sat in her booth, fully clothed and normal, facing the house she had built against her booth, in the middle of the town's fairground. They saw her place her hands on customer's heads and warp them away, always with a small puff of blue smoke, not enough to obscure vision.

The house she had built was only an illusion around her massive girth, and she sat naked in her booth, very, very pregnant. The house had begun as only a small shack, and was now practically a small mansion. No one ever touched the house, went in or out, but no one would have told you that this was unusual. Some of her teleports did not send the customer, usually a stranger or traveler, to their destination, but instead to the inside of Marna's stomach to be turned into nutrients for her child.

Marna had grown much since the accident. If she had known much of the ocean, she might have compared her great belly to a medium-sized whale, stretching yard on absurd yard through the illusion she had woven around it, and most likely weighing over a ton in soft, maternal flesh. This world was not modern enough to have beach balls, as well, so she had no adequate thing to compare her breasts to. They were, indeed, the size of large beach balls, if somewhat more elongated. They stretched to arm's length away from her chest, and they were more than half as wide and tall, swollen with many gallons of milk. She could hardly reach the end of them, and had to be very careful that they kept laying on her belly in a stable position, for she could not have lifted them back had they fallen.The child inside of her would have stood perhaps twenty feet tall, the size of a statue, and each additional victim of Marna's hardly added much size to her anymore.

She had to keep eating to sustain the child, even through this, the last day - she would deliver the following morning. The sensation of each person's weight dropping into her was one she had had a long time to appreciate, but was still as perfectly, sensually delightful as the first time. She would not have cut down her diet if she could have - the joy was so great that the pregnancy had very nearly become an excuse by this point. She took particular enjoyment from feeling her body, feeling the vast maternal weight of herself, her form grown gargantuan and so very soft, feeling her engorged feminine form. It was perfect, magnificent, and yet tender.

The town had one of its many fairs that day, as it did almost every day, and she worked around her mass with the practice of years. She had six victims that day, each one falling one by one with the same satisfying, weighty thud into her cavernous interior. When the day was done, she went through the same moaning, panting, deeply satisfying routing of feeling as much of herself as could be reached, starting at the ass, working up her back, the front of her belly, spending a long time playing with the great, soft orbs of her chest, squeezing them, toying with her stiffening nipples, lost in a personal Utopia of feeling.

She was brought back down to earth when, for the first time, she felt a little leak from her chest. The hour had grown late with her pleasure, and she knew that dawn was only a few hours away. She knew that she would deliver then, and contemplated it, looking down at her now flowing, sensitive breasts. She would miss her body, would miss the feeling of consuming so much and being so fantastically large. She would never have that feeling again. Would it leave a hole in her life? She wondered. Would she ever be able to enjoy anything, ever again, knowing how much greater this had been?

On the other side, she had heard so much over her life of the joys of motherhood. She did have that to look forward to. She would also be able to move again, be able to see some different scenery. The idea that she would no longer be taking lives flitted across her mind briefly, but her conscience was so hardened by all the years, all the thousands of victims, that she hardly gave it any thought at all. For that matter, she could still take the occasional victim after the birth if she wanted.

She was trapped in a dilemma, and she knew that she could actually do something about it. Over the past year, she had sent for books of magic, and studied much. She had found a way that she could use to prevent the birth, be eternally pregnant. She could run the stand forever, growing ever larger and larger, never growing old and always knowing the marvelous sensation she had treasured these past ten years. But should she do it? She pondered, weighing the options, considering, thinking harder about her situation than she had for a decade.

She could see the sky just barely beginning to lighten, and as her breasts grew even more tender, flowing freely with sweet mother's milk, felt herself beginning to pulse from the child down to the sensitive privates that she had not seen for so long. She knew that she did not have long to make her choice, and mere minutes before the sun poked over the horizon, she had made her decision.