Ingrid’s eyes fluttered open as the morning light from her slightly ajar curtains seeped in, and the arrival of a new day along with it. She would’ve been upset that something like that had awoken her on a day meant for resting, but… Well, the sight she awoke to wasn’t anything to be upset with at all.~
 
Sylvain laid beside her, just as he had when the two had first climbed into bed last night, after a long, exhausting day of boring political talks for him, and rigorous troop training for her. She didn’t exactly need to spend her time training House Gautier’s greenest recruits, now that she was Margravine and all. In addition, the realms were at peace now, so training wasn’t exactly the most prescient issue at hand, as it had been a few years earlier. But, well, it was just something that she genuinely enjoyed doing, and something she was rather good at–not to pat herself on the back, of course. And besides, it never hurt to have a full garrison regardless of peacetime merriment. Someone had to ensure that the peace would endure for the next generation, after all.
 
Speaking of…
 
The fact that Sylvain’s body–all bare-chested, muscles glistening in the low morning light, as the summer heat had caused him to sweat in the night–was so close to her wasn’t what had caused Ingrid’s heart to go all aflutter. Don’t get her wrong, her husband was one fantastically attractive man, and she had spent much time getting to know just how attractive that body of his was…~ But no. She had seen it a million times by now–that wasn’t what was doing it.
 
It was what he held in his hands. Her belly. Her big, round belly.
 
Now, of course, that was nothing new either. It was no secret to anyone at all that the lady of House Gautier had quite an appetite. Hell, it was no secret that most noblewomen did, considering the prominence that Ingrid and her old schoolmates had gained during the Fodlan Civil War. For the women of Fodlan, growing a big, round, stuffed belly full of food had sort of become as routine as putting on their blush in the morning. It acted both as a show of prosperity–what with Fodlan’s harvests becoming endlessly bountiful due to peacetime advances in agriculture–a gleeful show of just how well all of that abundance was being put to good use, and a show of growing equality, what with both noble and peasant taking up the new stuffed-gut style, and binging to their heart’s content in order to fit in with the trends. And with the Draught that Constance had concocted so long ago being made available to the public at very low cost, there were little ramifications at all on the women’s bodies after their increasingly huge meals had digested.
 
Why, it’d even become commonplace for women of high standing to host grand banquets in their own abodes–in which every last one of their subjects were invited, along with the ladies and lords from neighboring territories. Ingrid had even attended one of these last week, over at Annette’s place in Fraldarius territory. And Sothis, what a feast that was…~ Ingrid swore, as Annette’s pregnancy progressed, her appetite grew right along with the little ones in her belly. It never got old, watching that curvy lil’ cutie eat herself into a belly bed. Even more, now that she was overdue, and trying to pop her bump by overloading herself with food at every opportunity that presented itself.~ And besides, Annette and Felix had allowed them to take home all of the leftover, gourmet, freshly baked Fraldarius bread. All of which Ingrid had already eaten. So that was definitely a plus.~
 
But, well… To say that she’d gone over for a simple “Feast” would’ve been dishonest. It was a bit more than that. It was… A baby shower. And not for Annette.
 
It was Ingrid’s own.
 
As if sensing their mother’s thoughts about them, Ingrid’s children chose to begin kicking up a storm, doing their morning stretches inside their mother’s womb, even though they wouldn’t begin yawning for a few months yet. The sudden jolting and bulging of Ingrid’s belly transferred into Sylvain’s hands, and Ingrid cooed, trying to subtly rub what she could of her bump without waking Sylvain.
 
“Come on little guys, calm down… I know you’re hungry, believe me,” A gurgle came from her middle, letting her know her maternal instincts were right on the money. “And I’ll feed you soon. But… Let mama rest a lil’ longer in papa’s arms…” She blushed as she whispered the last bit. No matter how used to Sylvain’s body and attitude she got, she had still never quite managed to overcome the absolute dream that she was living.
 
She was married to Sylvain… The man she’d been in love with for most of her life. She was Margravine of House Gautier. And she was… S-She was… Carrying his children… Goodness, she couldn’t have prayed for a better life.~
 
Suddenly, Sylvain began to stir, one of his hands leaving Ingrid’s belly for the first time in around eight hours in order to rub at one of his squinting eyes. Ingrid felt a bit disappointed at this, but well… She was going to be a mom. She’d have to get used to getting out of bed at the drop of a hat, when all she wanted to do was just rest in her husband’s embrace. She puffed a little sigh out of her nose, then gave the lower curve of her bump a stroke, which finally got the little ones settled. Just a moment too late…
 
“Mhm,” Sylvain muttered through his grogginess. “Yep, I’m awake.”
 
“Well, good morning then, Papa.~” Ingrid said without a hint of sleepiness on her lips, despite the fact that she’d woken up just minutes before he had. She leaned in as much as her bump would allow–firmly pressing it up against his abs in the process–and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “You’ll have to forgive me for not having breakfast ready. I’m afraid a certain someone wouldn’t let go of their precious children, and so I just couldn’t manage to haul myself out of bed.~”
 
Sylvain blew a raspberry. An undignified gesture for someone who had spent so long deftly arguing politics in such a dignified manner just yesterday.
 
“Please. You do the eating, not the cooking–and I love you for it.” He quickly returned the peck as his eyes did their best to adjust to the light. “So if anything, you probably would’ve eaten everything before I had even put my breeches on.”
 
Ingrid mimicked his raspberry. “As if you ever wear your pants when you’re around me anymore.”
 
He shrugged. “Hey. Not my fault you somehow managed to get even hotter.~”
 
“Uh…” She paused, taking his hand and using it to stroke the side of her bump. “Yes. It kind of is.”
 
They both chuckled for a moment, before a sharp jab from inside Ingrid’s belly cut them both off.
 
“Ugh. Mentioning breakfast wasn’t my smartest idea ever, I’ll admit.” She closed her eyes and shook her head, which only allowed images of linked sausages, hotcakes, and all manner of other breakfast foods to flood into her mind. Sothis, perhaps Annette’s rabid appetite had been a warning of what was to come with her own little ones…
 
“I’ll say. And after last night’s dinner too…” Ingrid was around six months pregnant with a number of babies she had chosen to learn about at a later date–from how many pairs of kicking feet she felt though, she knew it had to be more than one–but even still, the size of her bump wasn’t entirely due to her billowing womb. “Yeesh. I know it was a rushed dinner, since we got back later than the kitchen staff had expected and all, but if two whole roast chickens and a twin pair of family-sized gratins aren’t enough to keep these guys fed for a whole eight hours, I’ve got no clue how we’re gonna keep them fed when they’re teenagers.” Sylvain gave Ingrid’s belly a little pat, and received one in return from inside.
 
“Nothing wrong with a healthy appetite, dear. They’re learning from their mom’s example.~” Ingrid said, turning her nose up at him with a little grin. “And besides, eating is in style all over Fodlan these days. Our little ladies are just following the current trends–which I believe they get from you.”
 
“Ok, so, setting aside your role in the tum-ification of Fodlan,” Ingrid rolled her eyes as he spoke, though the persistent grin on her face made it clear she knew exactly what he was talking about. “You’re still confident that we’re expecting a batch of future Margravines?”
 
“Mhm.” Ingrid nodded.
 
“And if I remember correctly, you not only informed the midwife that you do not wish to know the number of babies we have on the way, but the genders as well. Correct?”
 
“For the moment. But mhm.” She nodded again, a bit slower this time.
 
“So… Remind me. What exactly are you basing this confidence on?”
 
“Maternal instinct.” She didn’t expect him to know these things. Cichol’s axe, he probably didn’t even know that she could track their movements and positions in there. A mom just knew these things. Sometimes. If only she could figure out the number of ladies they were expecting too…
 
“I see. Welp, I’m keeping the boy clothes Felix gave us last week then.” He smirked, giving her belly one last rub, then sprung out of bed and made for his trousers.
 
Ingrid gasped at the gall, but didn’t make a big fuss. No harm in being cautious and prepared, even if it was entirely unnecessary. And besides, as she watched that underwear-cloaked ass of his stride away, her desire to fight just kind of… Melted away.~ Oof, pregnancy hormones.
 
Now that he was out of bed, Ingrid supposed she had no reason to stay in it any longer herself. She had work to do, and food to eat. So, slowly, laboriously–more than just her belly had grown over these last six months, and it was a little hard to heave all those curves at once–she lifted herself upwards, allowing the covers to fall from her, and revealing the pink, semi-translucent nightgown she’d gone to bed wearing last night. It didn’t leave much to the imagination–with her breasts sort of spilling out of the sides a bit and giving her some wonderful sideboob, her bump lifting the front so much that her panties could constantly be seen, and her rump firmly pressing against the back like a dress that was one size too small for her. And that was before she’d digested last night’s dinner. But it was comfy as could be, she liked showing off to Sylvain, and, well… I-Ingrid kinda liked pink, these days…
 
… Indech’s forge, thirteen-year-old Ingrid would’ve been absolutely appalled with her adult self.
 
“You know, it won’t be too much longer before you’ll have to start helping me out of bed.” Ingrid said, planting a hand on the front of her bump and giving an exasperated sigh as she shook her head. It was absolutely discouraging that something as simple as sitting up in bed could take so much out of her. Who knew growing babies was so tiring?
 
“For you, my dear,” Sylvain began, pulling his trousers up and sadly hiding that wonderful behind of his from Ingrid’s view. “I’d carry you anywhere we needed to go, if it came to it.” He turned to face her, hands on his hips, in some kind of strangely heroic pose–the sweat still dripping down his pecs and trailing down his abs looking downright irresistible, despite Sylvain’s attempt at goofy machismo.
 
“Oh, my prince.~” Ingrid cooed with an airy voice, clasping her hands and putting them to her cheeks like some kind of freshly rescued damsel. “Well, if that’s the case, perhaps you’d like to join me in the training grounds today? You’re going to need a good lot of muscle if you plan on carrying three people at once.~” Ingrid patted her belly with a smile, and a subtle roll passed through it. “... At least three.”
 
Sylvain stared at her belly for a moment, then dropped his pose and deflated with a sigh.
 
“Listen. I’m not gonna tell you to stop training–I know by now that that’s a fool’s errand. Those kids are probably gonna end up popping out of you while you have a lance in one hand, and mine in the other.” He stopped to chuckle. “But… Be careful, alright? If just getting out of bed is starting to be a struggle, I imagine swinging a spear around will be about three times as exhausting as it used to be.”
 
Ingrid took a moment to think. She knew he was right–both to be concerned, and in the fact that things were getting more and more draining as her bump grew larger. But at the same time… Well, Sylvain had always been kind of a slacker. Not as bad as Hilda, of course–it was downright impossible to be more lazy than that one, who practically spent all of her time these days as a dragon sleeping atop a treasure trove of food. But he’d still never really been one to enjoy training and the process of improving one’s prowess in battle in the same way she did.
 
Instead, he spent much of his youth chasing tail, until he ran face-first into her tail.~
 
 
It was understandable. Completely and utterly. She couldn’t be upset at her husband for caring about her wellbeing, and the wellbeing of their precious little children. So instead of snapping as her hormone-riddled emotions had kind of been nudging her to, Ingrid smiled.
 
“I will.” She nodded, and her braided blonde hair gave a little bob in motion with her head. “You know, we don’t have any plans today either–for the first time in what feels like forever. Why don’t you come and watch me train? That way you can keep a good eye on all of us, and make sure I am not overdoing it.”
 
Sylvain paused his rummaging for a shirt–aside from the one he’d hurriedly discarded the night prior, which was still lying on the floor–in order to respond.
 
“You know what? I think I’ll do just that.” He looked over his shoulder at her and gave a contended nod. “If I can’t persuade you to stop–which, again, I know is never gonna happen–the next best thing would be to proctor your training myself. Besides, I need to check the lil’ guys’ forms for myself. Make sure they’re holding their practice swords correctly in there, y’know?”
 
Ingrid just rolled her eyes–her smile having turned into a smirk in response to Sylvain’s stupidity–and prepared to heft herself out of bed once and for all. Well, for this morning, at least. She scooted over to the edge of the mattress with little issue. Her bump and curves were heavy, sure, but since she didn’t have to worry about verticality when it came to scooting her booty across the sheets, it was a good deal easier than what was coming.
 
She sat at the precipice, her legs dangling off the bed, heels planted firmly onto the rug below. Her hands were on her belly, making sure everything was calm inside before even attempting her ascension. After all, there was nothing worse than getting halfway upright, only to receive a swift kick in the kidneys for your trouble.
 
Then… She balled her hands into fists and placed them knuckle-down against the mattress. And pushed.
 
… And stood up in seconds. With a quick flash of green sparks radiating around her.
 
… Oh. Yeah… Ingrid felt kind of dumb for forgetting about her Crest–pregnancy brain could be a real piece of work sometimes–but at least it’d activated instinctively and saved her a lot of effort that she could use later on when it came time to swing her spear. Now all she had to do was keep her cheeks from turning red at her own ignorance…
 
“Hooh.” Sylvain whistled at Ingrid as she walked around the side of the bed, eventually standing in the center of the room with one hand at the small of her back, and the other cradling her bump.
 
“What?” She said, cocking her hips and stroking the underside of her belly through her nightgown.
 
“Nothing. Just absolutely blinded by your beauty, that’s all.” Sylvain began walking towards her, his chest still bare–while he had put his shirt on, he had neglected to button it as of yet. Then, as he got close, he closed his eyes and began feeling around in the air with his hands. “Agh, It’s just too much. I can’t stand to look at you; you’re so hot it burns my eyes!” As he spoke, one of his hands brushed up against the side of her bump. Ingrid nearly grabbed that hand and forced it against her tum then and there, but Sylvain still hadn’t stopped walking. Thinking it’d be funny if he perhaps ran face-first into the wall while trying to be all sly and flirty, Ingrid just let him keep going without interruption.
 
Then she noticed his eyes were slightly cracked open all along as he slipped past her, only to slide right around to her backside and press himself firmly against her.
 
Ingrid wasn’t a short woman by any means, but even still, Sylvain was so much taller… Nearly a head and a half taller. S-So, when he stood so close to her like this… His head peering over her shoulder, so close to her face… That dumb, beautiful, dopey, sly smile of his, just inches away from her lips… Her behind… Pressed so firmly a-against…
 
“Ah.” He started, knocking Ingrid out of her hormone-induced horny spiral, if only momentarily. “Much better. You’re still every bit as hot, obviously, but from the dark side of the moon back here,” Ingrid yelped as she felt a quick pinch to her rear. “It’s a lot safer to look at you. Admire you…~” He was probably referring to the fact that, with the bump, it would be a lot harder for Ingrid to turn around and kick his ass for this, compared to if he had just decided to pull this stunt from her front. N-Not that she would’ve at the moment anyway…~ “And besides…” Ingrid felt his warm, sturdy hands on her thighs… Then her hips, the fabric of her nightgown rising up as his hands trailed upwards across her fertile body… Up across her bump, ever so slowly…~ Sylvain’s hands finally stopped at her breasts, cupping each bountiful, maternal mound of flesh, and holding the fabric of her gown against them. She felt the fabric… Grow a bit wet, as his hands brushed against the most sensitive parts of her chest…~
 
He took a deep breath, still smiling, pressed himself more firmly against her… Though his eyes were no longer looking into hers. No, now they were cast downward, looking absolutely content as he admired what sat below her ever-swelling chest while a quick, subtle bump appeared on the taut flesh.
 
“... I think I much prefer this view anyway.~” He dropped a hand to her belly, another to her hips, and hooked his thumb into the waistband of her panties. But she acted first, pushing her lips into his.
 
She thought it counterintuitive that he had chosen to put pants on before all this, but oh well. Sylvain could be an impulsive creature at times. However, he did know her so well… And he very much knew just how insatiable these hormones had been making her. The cravings were insane… And not just for food.~
 
It’d been a small struggle to get out of bed, but… Well, Ingrid supposed she wouldn’t mind doing it again. Getting dressed could wait, it seemed.~ And one had to get undressed before they could get dressed, right?~ Besides, not like they had anything better to do today…~
 
-
 
“Hmm…~ I needed that.” Ingrid said, as she pulled her nightgown up and over her head, tossing it to the floor below. It landed right next to Sylvain’s own discarded shirt from the night before, which still hadn’t been picked up. Goodness, what would their subjects think if they knew their lord and lady could be so messy?
 
“Oh, believe me. I know.” Sylvain said, his ever-present smug grin still plastered all over his stupid, handsome face. “And I needed it just as much. There’s nothing better to relieve all of the stress left behind after a looooong day like yesterday.”
 
“Ah,” Ingrid said, still riffling around in her drawers with her chest bare to the morning air. Though they did feel a bit lighter than before, thanks to the “Early breakfast” Sylvain had decided on giving himself…~ “Goodness, those meetings and speeches must’ve taken a lot more out of you than I thought! Considering how you jumped me right after dinner last night, and then first thing this morning.~”
 
“Honey. After listening to the same old same old from a bunch of grumpy old men whose ideas were out of touch forty years ago? You’d best believe I’m in the mood for some rigorous stress relieving.”
 
“Yes. That sounds like the exact thing that would get just anyone in the mood.” Ingrid rolled her eyes and smiled just a touch at Sylvain’s unintentional implicating–just as she found what she was looking for too. A sturdy, yet light, women’s top–made especially for training and exercising in general. It was a rather new invention, all things considered, but from what ingrid had heard, Leonie was just as appreciative of her little white-haired wife’s newest concoction–even if it was a bit out of her usual, tummy-magic-based wheelhouse–as she was.
 
… Though, well… The usual “Sports bra,” as they were calling them, didn’t have extra padding to catch all of the excess liquids that could… Seep out…
 
Regardless, Ingrid began pulling it on–carefully situating each sensitive breast into the comfy-yet-tight bra, and pulling on her custom-made training skirt and shorts as well-
 
“Ingrid!” Sylvain practically shouted in incredulousness, causing Ingrid to jolt in surprise. “Honey, you haven’t even had breakfast yet!”
 
After her heart calmed down–and, subsequently, her brood had as well–Ingrid finished pulling the bra on and responded in a more dignified manner.
 
“I am well aware.” She nodded, hands going to her still-bare bump. “And I am also well aware of just how heavy I have become. In case you hadn’t noticed my struggle with getting out of bed.” Yep, that got him blushing and rubbing his neck. “And I also know my appetite as well as you do. If I were to go and indulge at the moment, there’s simply no way I’d be able to swing my lance–let alone lift it along with everything else I am carrying at the moment.” She lifted one of her hands to her breast, hefting it up and letting it drop back down onto her belly with a heavy, fleshy plap.~ And… A slosh as well. Seemed Sylvain hadn’t completely drained her…
 
“I…” He sighed. “Yeah, I guess that does make sense. But still, couldn’t you just go for a lighter breakfast this morning, then train, then have more afterwards?”
 
Ingrid didn’t respond. Instead, she simply stared at him, put both hands to the small of her back, and allowed him to watch and listen as her belly grumbled desperately for food, and the pack of cubs inside kicked around just as impatiently as their neighboring organ was being.
 
“... Yep, nope, stupid thing to suggest.” He shook his head, rubbing his neck once more. “Ok, ok. But I am gonna watch you close. I see even the littlest stumble, or hear your breathing getting too out of whack, and I’m cutting your training short and putting you on training-sabbatical until you pop those guys out. Deal?”
 
Ingrid huffed, a hand curling into a fist and going to her hips.
 
“Well, from how it sounds, somebody is just trying to make his wife a little curvier than she already is. I cannot believe you, suggesting I take time off from training…~” In truth, Ingrid had considered it herself. She would be on bed rest eventually anyway, and any weight she gained would only go to her curves–as it always had–which would only leave her looking even more motherly once the little ones came than she already did… But she wasn’t ready to hang up the spear just yet. “But fine. I promise I will be as careful as I have ever been. Even the slightest bout of lightheadedness, or a shortness of breath, and I’ll stop.” She put a hand to her belly, feeling the movements inside still for a moment.
 
Then her lips curled upwards.
 
“Although… It does also sort of sound like a challenge.~ Just how extreme can I get with all of this in the way…~” She gave her belly a few drawn-out pats, cocking her hips to the side in a manner that drew obvious attention to her broadened pelvis as well.
 
“Oh no, no no no.” Sylvain shook his head, eyes going wide. He knew just how competitive Ingrid could get. He knew it from a young age. “Please do not-”
 
Ingrid blew a raspberry, then nearly doubled over laughing. She would’ve, in truth, if the belly weren’t there to stop her.
 
“Kidding. I am kidding, Sylvain.” She straightened up, brushing her hair over her shoulder and gathering it all up with one hand–it’d been undone from the protective braid she kept it in at night while she and Sylvain had “Relieved some stress.” She then grabbed a nearby hair tie, and did her hair up in a ponytail–one that left a twin pair of fangs at the front-sides of her head, the long locks right next to where her bangs were on each side. “I would never put myself, or these precious children at risk.” She tenderly rubbed at her belly with both hands as she spoke, smiling as she looked down at it, and keeping the expression as she looked up into her loving husband’s eyes.
 
“I… I know that.” Sylvain said, his cheeks turning rosy once more. Ingrid thought it was so cute how he could get just as blushy as a schoolgirl at times.~ “It’s just… W-Well, we both know how your hormones can get–not saying that’s a bad thing, by the way,” He wisely added the last bit as a way to save his skin. “I suppose that… Me being so protective is just my own hormones kinda flaring up as well. I dunno. It’s weird. I’m not a midwife.”
 
“And thank Sothis for that.” Ingrid said, before cracking into a laugh. One that Sylvain gratefully took part in.
 
“Alright, alright.” Sylvain waved a hand at her, dismissively. “That’s enough jerking around. Let's get you out onto the field so our poor starving babies can eat.”
 
“Oh yes, they are just sooo famished…” Ingrid rapped her fingers against her bump as the two of them moved for the door “It’s been at least eight hours since that little snack of two entire roast birds! They’re practically malnourished in there, we’ve been feeding them so little!~”
 
“... Is that a challenge?”
 
“It can be.~”
 
-
 
Luin felt heavier in Ingrid’s hands these days. Though, really, just about everything felt heavier to Ingrid at this point…
 
It was a little discouraging for Ingrid to feel so sluggish when it came to even the most routine stabs and slashes, even though she’d already adapted her style to one more befitting a unit in heavy armor. And it was pretty embarrassing that she’d needed to do that in the first place…
 
Honestly, Ingrid just kind of never really thought about being a mom before it actually happened. Or, at least, she tried not to. She’d always known that she’d need to carry on her bloodline–she knew that from a young age. But she sort of just hoped it’d sort itself out. That somehow, she’d manage to find a way to settle herself firmly between the roles of proud warrior and loving mother. That a solution would just magically appear, and allow her to carry both positions without worry.
 
Obviously, that hadn’t happened.
 
So now here she was. Trying her best to fit into both roles, when the Ingrid of the past had always dreaded the idea of losing one position in order to fit into the other. It was like she was doing what she did in order to spite that past version of herself–in order to prove herself wrong, and show herself that she could indeed be just as powerful and commanding a warrior as ever whilst carrying a few bundles of joy at the same time.
 
But there was no war. That didn’t mean that one couldn’t spring up at any time, but… Did she really need to be as prepared for battle as she had been back during the Civil War? Things were different now. She was Margravine. She was going to… She was going to be a mom.
 
And she was excited about it.
 
Ingrid was a conflicted woman. On the one hand, she felt the need to be ready. To not let herself grow soft–literally and figuratively, considering the absurd boost her curves had received–and to be ready for the possibility of peace talks with Sreng collapsing. On the other… She was just absolutely blindsided by how much she enjoyed being a mom. A proper lady. A woman. She might’ve enjoyed acting all sassy–like her normal, tomboyishly chivalrous self–behind closed doors, but she did enjoy the regal act as well. Being loved by her subjects, and returning that love tenfold. She’d even learned to love dresses, makeup–things Annette and Mercedes had tried to corrupt her with for so long now, and things that her pre-teen self would’ve killed her over–and how her body looked in the mirror now that things had progressed to this point.
 
She needed to find some kind of compromise. An intersection between sturdy matriarch, mighty, dutiful pegasus knight, caring mother, and strong, confident woman with boundless opportunities and possibilities ahead of her. Sheesh… She wished someone would’ve told her that adulthood wouldn’t just be filled with swinging spears and dodging arrows.
 
“Good one!” Sylvain called from her side, knocking her out of the trance she’d been in for who-knew how long now. “Honestly, I’m surprised. You move with just as much grace as ever.”
 
“Please.” She said with a sigh. “I feel like I am maneuvering a horse while on my own two feet. I assure you, it isn’t as easy as it looks to swing this thing with passengers hitching a ride.” She paused her motions, dropping a hand to stroke her sweat-coated bump.
 
It was a surprise that Sylvain had commented on her form. Usually, whenever he watched her train, his eyes were focused elsewhere than her arms and legs. Though, they did tend to settle on her hips. But obviously not because he admired the force with which she used her broadened haunches to thrust her family’s trusted Luín…
 
… And, tracing his eyes, she found that he wasn’t really focused on her form at all. His eyes were locked onto her bump, watching as a droplet of sweat dripped down from the inside of her bra–it had pooled into a small puddle right at the top of her impressive cleavage–and trailed all the way down over her maternal gut, only to drip right off as it came to the tip of her protruding outie belly button. That was rather new; Ingrid had popped her navel plenty of times via shoving way too much food down her gullet, but this time the little nub didn’t go back in after she digested her usually massive dinners. It’d only stayed popped for around a week as well… After she’d been hauled back from Annette’s.~ And it was so sensitive…~
 
E-Enough. Cichol’s axe, she needed to get her hormones in check. If just a look from Sylvain–admiring her bountifully fertile form–could get her going, then there was just no way she was going to be able to keep herself steadily out of his arms for the rest of the duration of this pregnancy… Not that she ever really wanted to be out of them anyway.~
 
“Keep your eyes where they should be, Sylvain.” Ingrid said, putting both hands on Luín once more and adopting her squatted stance once more. Even this stance–which was made for more “Encumbered” warriors–wasn’t perfect for someone in her condition. She could feel her bump pressing into her thickened thighs… “You are monitoring me, remember? Not getting some eye candy.”
 
Sylvain nodded, his face looking more stern.
 
“Yeah, I know. Trust me, I haven’t forgotten, and I’m still just as tense about it as I was.” That stern look didn’t last long–it never tended to with Sylvain–as his smirk found its way back onto his face. “But from what I’m seeing, maybe my hesitance was kinda pointless. If I saw you from behind with that spear, I’d never be able to tell you were pregnant. That’s how good you are.” He nodded, and Ingrid felt an air of genuine respect from him. Maybe even a little envy at how skilled she still was, when she’d already begun to waddle when outside of training. “But not that I’d ever not wanna know. Let's be honest–even though your backside presents an utterly irresistible view–we both know the real good stuff is around front.~”
 
… Ingrid just blushed and moved on. She’d already crawled back into bed with him once this morning, there was just no way she was gonna let the combination of her hormones and his stupid, childish teasing drag her back there.
 
“My belly’s too big…” She mumbled through her intensifying blush, before swinging the spear vertically down–a move that sent her breasts rippling like water inside her bra–sweat flying into the air, and streaming down her bump.
 
“Hm?” Sylvain asked, leaning closer, but only a little. Wasn’t good to get too close to a hormonal woman with a spear when you’ve been teasing her all morning long, and Sylvain knew that all too well. “What was that?”
 
“I-I said-!” She started to yell, but managed to regain her composure by funneling that energy into another boob-bouncing swing instead. “I said… My belly is too big. Wide. You would be able to see it from behind–you’d know I was pregnant.”
 
A silence swept through the nearly-empty training arena. The pause so pregnant that the only audible sound was coming from the birds chirping in the treetops above.
 
GRrRrrRoOuuUrrNNnnhhh…~
 
… Only to be broken when her tummy’s hungry growls decided to upset the peace going on inside her tummy. The babies seemed to understand that they needed to be calm when mommy was training, but as soon as their neighboring organ decided to act up, they took it as a go-ahead signal and began attacking her insides with a fury that Sreng could only pray to match.
 
“Oof,” She said, planting the spear in the ground, bracing herself against it and hurrying to calm the little ones with her hands. “Ok. Training is over for today, it seems.” She sighed, picking up the spear and hauling it over to a weapon’s rack–as her own jiggled with each step–entrusting that one of her many weapon handlers could safely bring it back to its high-security barracks on their own. She never liked leaving Luín like this, but she had to do what she had to do.
 
And right now, she had to eat. Goodness, she even was getting hungrier just looking off at one of the horses in the distance… Hopefully her children’s appetites didn’t decide to get that adventurous.
 
… Though, she was sure her tummy could take it.~ She’d eaten bigger loads than that…~ Hm… There was that teleportation spell that Hapi and Ashe enjoyed using for their tum-fun times. Maybe she could put that to good use, if she needed to.~
 
… Ok, she HAD to get these hormones reigned in.
 
“You’re right.” Sylvain said from behind her, as the two began their walk back. Ingrid hadn’t even noticed she’d begun walking to the manor yet–that’s just how captivated she’d been by the horse. Though, she did think it was odd that Sylvain’s voice was coming from so far behind… He usually walked right beside her, one hand on her back or around her side in order to support her as she walked. He’d mentioned her “Backside” view before, so maybe he was just indulging in that for a bit. But wouldn’t he rather get “Hands-on” than simply just look? Ingrid would never swat his hand away, after all…~
 
“Hm?” She called back at him, looking over her shoulder and putting just a little more sway in her hips. Just in case he was looking.~ She might not’ve had Annie’s rump, but her’s wasn’t bad either. Especially with how it peeked out of the short skirt she always used for training.~ She smirked a little, settling a hand on the upper curve of her belly, just below her breasts, as a baby kicked that exact spot.
 
“I said you were right! You can see all that belly from behind!~” He yelled, then began sprinting up to her, wearing a goofy grin all the while.
 
Ingrid didn’t say anything in response, even though the thought of one of their workers or subjects hearing Sylvain’s idiocy caused her to annoyingly flush again. But she did stop swaying for him, going back into a more steady, slight waddle.
 
… She did also give him a little playful kick to the shins right as he caught up, nudging him back behind her. She figured he should stay back there if he liked that view so much, shouldn’t he?~
 
-
 
Bowls of sliced and peeled fruits, and platters of entire, untouched larger ones–such as melons and more tropical fruits. Entire slabs of bacon, with enough eggs to rear an entire horde of chickens. Had they not been fried, scrambled, and poached, of course. And to top it all off, a very nice, wide assortment of teacakes and other small sweets–Ingrid had been craving so much sugar recently, as her enlarged rump could attest–to accompany the lovely gallon or so of tea that had been brought to help her wash everything down.
 
And that was just the first course, obviously.
 
Ingrid sat sipping on her uncaffeinated tea as she patiently waited for more. She always felt sort of bad about forcing the kitchen staff to cook so much for her. She’d always felt kinda bad when it came to overindulging at others’ expense–she just didn’t want to come off as rude, or to put anyone out. That’s why she’d so often held back during her days at Garreg Mach–only really indulging on special occasions, with Mercedes or another utterly willing cook and feeder, or on the very rare occasions that she actually managed to cook things for herself.
 
But… Well, things had changed since she was a student. Both within herself, and with Fodlan at large. Eating until your stomach curved out was sort of expected of a noblewoman these days; or, really, a woman in general. It’d really become more of a fashionable symbol of pure femininity than anything. Though, of course… Many of the women who partook did derive quite a bit of pleasure out of being so gluttonous–so huge.~
 
Ingrid was no different. In fact, she’d enjoyed this whole song and dance long before the rest of the continent had co-opted it. And, well… She might’ve been one of the leading reasons for that co-opting in the first place. Besides, the kitchen staff at the Gautier estate were always so eager and willing to feed the ladies of the house–even the maids, who often ended their workdays with bellies so large that they began to impact the ways in which they cleaned. They always brought the food out with a smile, and… C-Cheered whenever they heard a rumbling belch come from the dining room as a result of their cooking.
 
So, really… Who was Ingrid to say no?~ She had a lot of mouths to feed now anyways, not just her own… And the babies sure did seem to have their mama’s appetite.~
 
ggGgRrrrrRoOoouuUuu…~
 
“Ooh.” Sylvain cooed, his hands still rubbing all over Ingrid’s tummy. “Sounds like someone’s still hungry.~ Or maybe a couple of someones…~”
 
“Definitely.” Ingrid puffed, shifting in her seat to allow her bump to sit more comfortably in the slot between her pressed-together thighs.
 
She’d changed into a comfortable maternity dress after wiping her sweat away post-training. The silky, emerald green thing was meant to be loose, and it was… Around four weeks ago.~ But Ingrid had grown since then, and so now the dress looked less like a modest, comforting covering for a mama in waiting, and more like one that a woman might wear out to a night on the town, when she was looking to seduce a man back to her humble abode.~ It just hugged her curves so tightly–there were lines of stress in the fabric around her sides, below her bump, across her chest, and right at her rump, and her outie could clearly be seen protruding at the very apex of her beautifully swollen form–which, somehow, felt just as good as if it were as flowy as before. The fabric wasn’t painfully tight or restricting–instead, it was more like a soft, comforting hug.
 
And that hug was only getting tighter as she ate…~ Mmh, it’d only been her first meal, but Ingrid felt like she was carrying quints at least by now… A pair of twin food babies to go along with her lovely, growing children.~ Just how much more could her gorgeous dress take, she wondered…?~
 
“Ah, right on time then.” Sylvain said, as the second course was wheeled out. It seemed that the chefs had decided that breakfast was over, as the foods lying atop the carts and trays that were brought out this time around were more of a lunch variety.
 
A tower of sandwiches lying atop a tray wider than Annette’s hips. Pots of soup that more resembled cauldrons. entire loaves of perfectly roasted breads, accompanying two whole, large, roasted birds, filled to bursting with stuffing that smelled just so deliciously as the carts rode by…~
 
And that was just the first cart. She hadn’t even noticed the cart of cakes, pies, and other sweets yet. Nor the dedicated pasta cart–ooh that was just what she needed right now… A whole carriage-full of creamy, rich, cheesy, tender pasta was just what these babies needed, and they made sure that she knew that by letting out a little flurry of kicks against her gently rubbing hands.
 
She reached for the nearest pot of the stuff, dragged it over to the table ahead, and picked up her fork, ready to dig in-
 
-When the door to the dining room burst open, a panting messenger girl standing in the threshold.
 
“L-Lady Ingrid, your midwife has arrived.”
 
Oh.
 
Oh dear. Ingrid had been so busy yesterday, she completely forgot about today’s appointment! Just a routine checkup, but if she saw Ingrid like this, all bloated and bigger than her normally huge middle already was, and surrounded by even more food yet…
 
… Well, that sounded like a recipe for a lot of fun.~ Just like the good old days.~ And Ingrid had just been feeling all nostalgic earlier today as well…~
 
Ingrid smiled, leaving the pot alone for a moment, and settling her filled teacup atop her bump.
 
“That’s wonderful.” She looked up at the father of her children, who had reflexively stood at attention when the door flew open. She squinted at him, biting the corner of her lip as ideas for what was to come raced through her head. “Why don’t you go and show Mercedes in, papa?~” She gave her bump a gentle pat, and the babies patted back, eager to see the woman who always gave them such good attention, and sensing something good was coming from how Ingrid’s heart rate had spiked.
 
Oh yes. Something good indeed.~
 
They’d need to clear the room of servants… Ingrid didn’t wish to appear indecent in front of her subjects, after all.~ Only kitchen staff would be necessary after this point anyay...~
 
Ingrid settled into her chair, breathing a little heavy, as Sylvain left to bring Mercedes, a subtle smirk on his own face. He knew exactly what was coming as well.~
 
Her belly growled hungrily, and she allowed her hands to roam all over the fertile orb.
 
“Shh…~” She hushed her impatient occupants. “No need to be all fussy. Believe me, in a few hours, you’ll be full enough that mama won’t have to eat for a week.~” She paused her whispering, wrinkling her nose. “Or, well… At least half a day.~ Mama’s gotta keep you guys fed, after all…~”
 
-
 
“Oh, goodness!” Mercedes uttered, her airy, breathy voice carrying a bit of genuine surprise. Ingrid tended to hold back a bit on the eating on days when she had appointments scheduled with her lovely wide-hipped midwife, but as she’d sort of forgotten all about today’s appointment... “Y-You’re huge!”
 
… And she was. Ingrid’s breakfast had been large enough to feed an entire small band of soldiers, and its size clearly showed on her ballooned bump.~ It wasn’t massive–not nearly as huge as she’d been in the past, not even as big as the time Mercedes and the girls had surprised her with a massive cake on her birthday–but it was still pretty dang big. It was clear that Ingrid was carrying more than children in her nearly-knee-length tummy.~
 
“Oh, ahem.” Mercedes corrected herself, stiffening her posture and clearing her throat into her gloved hand. “I apologize, Lady Margravine. That was lacking in tact. I simply wasn’t expecting to find you quite so… Gravid.~” That last word came out with a sort of spice on Mercedes’ tongue. As was to be expected from her.~ After all, if Ingrid had played a role in the tum-ification of Fodlan, then Mercedes had been the person standing behind the stage.~ “At least not for another month or so, that is.”
 
“Wait, really?” Sylvain piped up, stopping his hand atop Ingrid’s bump–he’d gone right back to caressing her tummy as soon as he was able to, as he often did these days–and looking into Mercedes’ eyes. “You seriously think she’d get this big in just a month’s time?”
 
“Oh yes. You must remember Lord Margrave, dear Ingrid is in the third trimester now. Things move at a much quicker pace from this point on.” She nodded, taking her cap from her head and holding it to her chest with one hand. Speaking of, a few of her dress’ bosom buttons looked a bit strained… Had she always been so busty? Mmh, it seemed Dorothea was taking good care of her lovely wife indeed.~ “And besides… With just how many you’re carrying as well…~” Mercedes sort of shuffled inside her own dress–her arm clutching the hat tighter to her bosom, and her hips bobbing from side to side.
 
“I still don’t think I want to know, Mercie.” Ingrid said, with a friendly smile and nod. “At least not yet. I’ll need to know soon, of course. Like you said, we are nearing the final stages now. But at the moment… I still like the fun of just guessing how many there are.~” She giggled, holding a hand to the side of her tummy and waiting for movement. None came, though. The children were always on their best behavior when their loving midwife was around.
 
“Whatever you prefer, dear.” Mercedes smiled warmly–just as warm as the blush upon her cheeks as her eyes surveyed the seemingly endless horde of carts, trays, and platters that had Ingrid surrounded. “In any case, I can tell each of the mouths in your belly have gotten hungrier than when we last spoke!” She too chuckled now, politely muffling the sound with the fingertips on her free hand. “That is an exciting development indeed…~”
 
“Mhm.~” Ingrid said, sneakily biting the inside-corner of her mouth as she hummed her response. “I think the baby shower last week might have awoken their appetites. They have just been absolutely insatiable ever since!~” She laid both hands on each side of her tum and gave it a pat, which finally seemed to draw some energetic life out of the little ones in her womb. Little kicks and flips rolled all over her belly in the aftermath, as if the babies were trying to confirm Ingrid’s words. As if they were proud to be taking after their mother when it came to appetites.~
 
“And we’ve been doing our best to sate them even still, as you can clearly see.” Sylvain added, waving his hand in the direction of a nearby cart. Just one of many.~ “I swear, somehow, I didn’t think Ingrid’s appetite could get any more ravenous, but ever since the morning sickness ended, she's just been so greedy.~ And it's only gotten worse recently. Just glutting herself from morning til’ night most days… Turns out all I needed to do in order to improve her appetite–not that it needed any improvement–was give her a bundle of smaller Ingrids to take care of…” He smirked up at her, and she gently bopped him on the forehead with a blush on her cheeks.
 
“Hey, don’t go blaming all of their attitudes on me. They certainly-” She paused to groan as a rather sturdy kick rolled down the prime meridian of her bump. “... As I was about to say, they certainly get their rowdiness from you.”
 
Sylvain and Ingrid paused to laugh for a moment, each of them sharing a loving look as they gazed into each other’s eyes, their hands resting atop their lovely children’s temporary, growing home and giving it a few caressing rubs…
 
BrRrrRgGgRRRrRoOOOUuuuuUurRRrnNnnnNn…~
 
… Only to pause that as well, once a rather loud, demanding growl came from deep within Ingrid’s tummy. Behind her ballooned womb…~
 
“Oh, no. Just look at what I’ve done.” Mercie clicked her tongue, clasping her hands over her lap and looking a bit upset. “How rude of me to barge in here and interrupt a mother dutifully attending to the needs of her little ones… What a mockery of a midwife I’m turning out to be.” Mercie was clearly going overboard on purpose now. Putting on a show. Ingrid didn’t need to catch the slight upturning of the corners of her lips to know that.~ “... Though, I couldn’t help but notice the servants making their way out of the side entrance as I was ushered inside.~ Any reason in particular for their rather sudden exit?~”
 
Mercedes stepped closer, swaying her wide, childbearing–as an understatement–hips around one of the many carts on her way to Ingrid. The lusty mama’s thoughts couldn’t help but drift to the possibility of those powerful babymakers hipchecking one of the carts instead of swishing around them. Goodness, it’d likely be sent flying.~
 
“It seems to me that a woman in your condition would welcome all the assistance she could get. Not to be presumptuous–my apologies if that was rude.” She nodded as she finally reached Ingrid after wading through the sea of carts. Ingrid could barely see her face as she stood there–her bust was just sticking out that far, blocking her gorgeous visage from view. Dorothea had been feeding her well indeed.~
 
“That is… Unless she desired some more tender attention?~ Of a kind too personal for her subjects to see?~” Mercedes dropped a hand to Ingrid’s tummy, and a shiver ran through her body.~ Mmh… This woman was perhaps the most experienced out of anyone in Fodlan when it came to handling a stuffed gut; whether it was stuffed full of babies–though Ingrid was only the second mother Mercedes had ever cared for, with Annette being the first, she had certainly learned a lot as the months passed by–or glutted to the point of rupturing with food. Save for maybe Lysithea.
 
And it certainly showed.~
 
Ingrid full-on bit her lip now. No point in hiding it anymore. Mercedes had sussed her out, just like she knew she would. Just as she wanted.~ As if any other outcome was even a possibility…~ Why, Mercedes might’ve even assumed she’d set the entire thing up, rather than it being a simple case of pregnancy brain causing her to mix up dates and appointments.
 
What was the harm in playing into that?~
 
Ingrid nodded, and Mercedes did the same. In the next moment, she was rolling her gloves off. Then she grabbed the fork that Ingrid had neglected and pulled the pot of pasta closer to herself.
 
“Oh, Sylvain, dear?” Mercedes looked down at him, having to bend a bit in order to see him past her ample breasts. “Do tell the chefs to keep things moving back there. I have a feeling this won’t be nearly enough.~” She said with a coo, speaking from experience.
 
Sylvain gave a simple thumbs up–he knew that, when it came to bellies, it was best to listen to the expert opinion on the matter without questioning their methods–and gave Ingrid’s bump one last kiss, before standing from his kneeled position and walking through the doorway to the kitchen.
 
Mercedes giggled like a schoolgirl as soon as he was gone. Ingrid did too.~
 
“Ohh, it has been too long!~” Ingrid cheered, holding tightly onto her demanding belly.
 
“It absolutely has.~” Mercedes said, still giggling as she twirled up a spiral of cheesy pasta onto her fork. “If I remember correctly, the last time was when you were still suffering from morning sickness. We were still able to pack quite a lot into you, though it saddened me that we had to stop early…” She paused, pulling the hunk of pasta from the pot and revealing it to Ingrid, whose belly let out a demanding growl–as if on instinct. “Though, that was months ago now. You’re well past that, and honestly… As this is only my second time midwifing, I must admit I am terribly curious to know just how hungry those extra mouths are making you.~ Annette’s have certainly made her quite the hungry mama…~”
 
She brought the fork just up to Ingrid’s lips, then pulled it away, looking concerned.
 
“Um… Ingrid? Dear? You’re shaking. Are you alright?”
 
“Oh!” Ingrid gasped, feeling a warmth come to her cheeks. “O-Oh, yes, I’m fine. Apologies, I just… W-Well… Sothis, I’m so excited.~” She eagerly stroked her bump with one hand–feeling her children’s activity spike in reaction to her elevated heartbeat–while the other went to her lips, feeling the trembling, soft, plump things. And the sea of drool they held back.~
 
The concern melted away from Mercedes’ face in an instant. In its place came a warm, almost motherly look. But one tinted with an undeniable twinge of desire.~ A mother who would ensure any who came to her home left the abode feeling so full that they had to be wheeled home in a wheelbarrow, perhaps.~
 
“Mhmhm…~” She laughed with her mouth closed. “Well then… I see no reason to delay any further in that case.~” She reached out with her free hand, cupping Ingrid’s chin and gently encouraging it to open.
 
“Now… As a midwife, it’s my job to take the utmost best care possible of you and the little ones. So let’s get these babies fed.~” And with that, the first forkful of many landed on Ingrid’s tongue.
 
Cheesy, smokey, with tender bits of deliciously grilled chicken and shellfish strewn about inside, and noa fruit and peppers as well… Mmh, Ingrid couldn’t wait to be done with this pot, just so she could use one of those entire freshly baked loaves of bread to sop up every last bit of sauce left in the pot after the noodles were all gone.~
 
Her babies kicked for more as soon as that bite was swallowed, and Mercie was quick to sate their desires.
 
Hah…~ She let out a satisfied sigh after the third bite, feeling her children simmer down–they knew more was coming, so there was no reason to kick. Had to give their neighboring organ plenty of room to grow, after all.~
 
Plenty of room indeed…~ This was going to be a good meal, Ingrid could just tell already. The best in months.~
 
-
 
E-Eh… Eheheh…~ Ingrid’s dress was getting tight.~
 
How many dishes had it been now? Ingrid lost track. That tended to happen when the Draught was mixed in with your cooking–though the chefs only used the type that mitigated most calories these days. Ingrid didn’t need the appetite enhancing effects at all anymore.~ She did still need a few more calories than a usual noblewoman would, however, so they didn’t reach for the bottles of Draught that eliminated all calories. Ingrid’s motherly curves were proof enough of that.~
 
Not that the amount of dishes she’d eaten so far mattered anyway.~ All she cared about was the next plate.~ It all tasted sooooo good, but taste really came second when you had so many demanding little mouths to feed.
 
… Alright, no, Ingrid couldn’t blame them. The babies had been quiet for a while now.
 
Ingrid was eating for herself at this point.~ And for Mercie… And for Sylvain.~
 
That’s why she’d hiked her dress’ skirt up to her hips, showing off her elegant tights–strained as they were, trying to hold in all of that luscious thigh meat that had grown in over the months. Her belly had obviously grown as the dishes disappeared down her gullet, and she now resembled a woman closer to term than she’d been before. Maybe even a little overdue…~ Either way, her stomach had been filled to the point that her upper belly was a little more distinct now, and thus her ballooned, sloshy breasts had been pushed up a touch more as well–making them look even larger somehow. The hiking of her skirt also inadvertently showed off her backside as well. Though at least her broad backside was somewhat hidden by the chair she’d been feasting in.
 
But only somewhat. The firm, calloused, lovingly gentle hand she felt giving her buttocks a nice squeeze was proof enough of that.~
 
Ingrid wasn’t the only one who’d undressed either. Mercedes had undone the top few buttons on her blouse, allowing her cleavage to breathe freely in the low candlelight–and, in truth, Ingrid was amazed to see that the flesh of the motherly woman’s bosom actually spilled past the edges of her undone blouse by a centimeter or two.~ Goodness.~ It was delightful to see just how much Mercie’s wife had been spoiling her.~
 
Sylvain had joined them as well. His shirt had been unbuttoned, allowing for a tasty view of just how long it took for a single droplet of sweat to trickle down his washboard abs, before it disappeared into the waistband of his pants. Which were looking rather tight by now as well…~ He could keep that sword sheathed for now though. They still had business to attend to.~
 
Obviously, none of the noblemen and women currently occupying the dining room would’ve dared to look so uncouth in front of their subjects–even if said subjects would likely only join them in their festivities.~ Ingrid had been confused as to why the dining hall of the Gautier estate held no windows for as long as she’d been coming over to Sylvain’s place. But now she was glad that the only light coming into the room was that of the candles spread all over the nearby longtables.~
 
“Let’s see…” Mercedes muttered. Sylvain approached, stopping right beside her, kneeling and scanning one of the carts for anything they might’ve missed.
 
“I think this one’s done for.” He called out, then gently pushed the cart away–into the growing pile of barren food carriages that was forming in the corner. “Six carts, and you’re still raring for more… Now that’s the Ingrid I know and love.~” He came back to her, leaning over and giving her a tender kiss. While one hand snaked over to pinch her ass again, of course. “You taste like gravy.”
 
“Yeah, and I’d like to taste like more of it if you don’t mind.~” She giggled as her tum let out a slow, low-pitched rumble while she stared up into his eyes. “Though… Hmm…~ Maybe I’m in the mood for something a little bigger…~” She swiped a finger up his abs, collecting a droplet of sweat onto it and popping it in her mouth. “Saltier…~” Then she leaned forward, her belly loudly Blorp~ing as the contents inside sloshed about. She ran a hand through his hair. “With just a touch of saffron…~”
 
“Alright, yep, uh huh, got it. Message received–feed the babies or feed the babies.” He stood straight up and turned to go look for more food, only to look over his shoulder at her with a grin. “You’re awfully blonde to be a black widow though.~”
 
“Maybe she’s an albino!” Mercie chipperly announced her presence at Ingrid’s other side, catching her off guard and making Ingrid’ head reflexively snap over to look at her-
 
… Where it received a faceful of cleavage. Literally.
 
“Oh!” Mercie yelped. “D-Dear, I know I’m your midwife, but… Well, seeing as I’ve yet to have any children of my own, I’m afraid I can’t be your wetnurse.” She raised a hand to stroke at the back of Ingrid’s head, her voice shaking a little more than it probably should have… Odd. But cute.~
 
“Not that I’d pull you away if you wanted to try and drink regardless…~” She whispered, and Ingrid could hear the smile in her voice.
 
She pulled away in a hurry, breathing heavily–half from embarrassment, and half from utter suffocation. There was just no room to draw breath in there–one could literally drown in her boobs.~
 
“I-I- Um… M-Maybe later!” Ingrid cringed. Why, of all the words in her spoken language, did those two have to be the ones to find their way to her lips? “I mean… A-Ahem, what’s that you’ve got there, Mercie?” Ingrid nodded to the skillet in Mercedes’ hand, a smile on her face as she did her best to just move on from what had happened. Not only was Doro spoiling her, it seemed she’d been rubbing off on her as well…
 
“Hm… I’m not quite sure, actually. It looks good though!” She lowered it to Ingrid’s view, and the hungry mama caught glimpses of prawns, mussels, and a few vegetables as well, all strewn about in a field of delicious-smelling, yellowish-red rice.~
 
“Give it to me.” Ingrid sat back with a sigh, giving her belly a pat with each hand–one after the other. Pregnant bellies were firm, but with just a bit of give–seeing as they had to grow, after all. Not like they could be rock hard and still allow for the tender nurturing of the young gestating inside.
 
But after eating so much… Well, Ingrid’s tummy sounded less like slapping a wineskin, and more like slapping a wall.~ Some of that was due to the dress’ newfound tautness, surely, but not all of it.~
 
“You sure you don’t wanna get a little more ‘Comfortable’ first, hon? That dress is stretching a lil’ too tightly, I think… It’s starting to turn sheer at your sides.~” He whispered into her ear, that husky voice of his rattling around the spirals of her ear canal like a rock tossed into a well.~ Goodness. Ingrid was rather good at strategizing, or so she thought. She never imagined she’d find herself on the receiving end of such a devastating pincer attack.~ “It’s your favorite dress, isn’t it? No joking around, if you don’t want it torn, I’ll help you get it off.”
 
Ingrid thought about it for a moment–her head clearing now that the attack had stopped long enough for her to catch her breath. He was right, this particular dress–with its golden lining, intricate patterns along the sides, and vibrant emerald coloration–was a favorite amongst her wardrobe. However… She’d found it rather challenging to slip into. She’d fought to get it over her breasts, then waged war to slide it over her belly–eventually resorting to slowly rolling the fabric down the length of her belly, from ribcage to pelvis. And she’d even needed to wiggle her hips in order to get it to cover her backside! Even after she’d got the thing on, her belly still caused it to ride up in the front–to the degree that her lower thighs had been exposed, causing her to don tights beneath the dress in order to keep herself decent.
 
“... I think I’d rather just eat my way out of it.~”
 
Sylvain smirked at that, giving her bump a good pat, then recoiling as it gurgled angrily.
 
“I think she agrees.” Sylvain chuckled. “Well, you heard the lady, Mercie. Now let’s see those seams snap.~”
 
“As the Lord Margrave wishes.~” Mercedes winked, then chopped into the wonderfully aromatic dish with the provided spoon, and brought a nice big hunk of it to Ingrid’s lips.
 
She didn’t hesitate.
 
“Mmh, sho gooh…~” Ingrid mumbled with her eyes closed, letting her head rock back into the back of her chair and clutching each side of her gut. The pop of the savory, slightly spicy prawns as she bit into them. The creamy mussels, dripping with buttery richness. The lovely fried vegetables, with just a slight char–just enough to bring out the fullness of their flavor. Even the rice–in truth, the most seasoned and delectable part…
 
“More. Now.” She demanded as soon as the first bite was finished, feeling like a proper queen as she lounged, waiting for her serving ladies to bring another bunch of grapes to feed to her. She would’ve felt guilty for being so rudely demanding… If she didn’t know Mercie encouraged that sort of thing.
 
Mercie happily giggled, her painted lips bearing a lovely smile that’d break even the straightest of women.~
 
“As the Margravine wishes.~” She leaned into her teasing usage of the honorific by sealing the sentence with a little curtsey that made her breasts bob just a bit. Then she scooped up an even bigger bite, and plunged it right through Ingrid’s lips without asking.
 
She’d been panting so much that her mouth hung open anyway.~ And besides, there was no point in asking for permission when consent was so blatantly given.~
 
The rest of that dish flowed down Ingrid’s throat like water–the gluttonous noblewoman ate with reckless abandon, as if she’d not just gulped down enough bacon to make an entire pig out of not a full hour prior. As soon as it was gone, Ingrid gestured for her loving “Servants” to go and fetch more.
 
Which they did.
 
Much more.~
 
Sylvain approached with a Gautier Cheese Gratin in both hands. The nutty, cheesy, meaty dish seemed like just the thing Ingrid needed right now… But at the same time, Mercedes had just brought over an entire cart of smaller, delectable treats… Rolls, slathered in butter. Crackers and pretzel breads with all manner of House Gautier’s finest cheeses. Mmh, no matter how many wheels of cheese she’d eaten in her life, she just never got enough of Sylvain’s family’s signature creation.~ Ooh, and was that a small medley of pickled seafood and veggies she spotted down there too? Ingrid had always hated the dish for as long as she could remember, but for some reason, her babies absolutely loved it… And that meant she loved it too.~
 
“So?” Sylvain piped up. “What’s next? What’ll it be, babe?” She shuddered at the affectionate term, having to look over her shoulder to make sure that no servants had sneaked back in and heard something so improper from him. He did so love to tease her with things like that, when he obviously knew better… Both than to talk that way with his subjects around, and to tease Ingrid like that.
 
But, since no one was around, other than two people she loved more than almost anything else in the world… She supposed she could let it slide this time.~
 
“Hm…” She muttered, holding her hands firmly against each side of her tummy and focusing. It could be hard to pick out just what you wanted to eat, when your appetite was so massive, and your capacity equally so. And it may have seemed odd–she hadn’t believed Hapi at first when she’d told her about this–but there was actually a method for such gluttonous ladies to figure out what it was their tummies were looking to gobble up next. And the babies only made it easier.~
 
She thought about the cheese and crackers.
 
GrRrroOOUuUurrRbbBBbllLlLL…!~
 
Then the gratin.
 
BrRrRRRrRoOUUuuURrRNnNN…!~
 
The veggies and fish…
 
RrRrROoOoUuUUuUUrRrRRRrRGh…!~
 
Hm… And her little ones had fluttered about just as much each time, no matter the dish she thought about…
 
… She knew just what she wanted then.~
 
“More.~”
 
And that’s just what she got.~
 
Mercedes began pulling the various little dishes from the cart, feeding Ingrid a sandwich here, a little bowl of pickles there. All the while Sylvain was hard at work, using her belly as a table to lie the dish on, and scooping out heaping chunks of cheesy, wonderful gratin to plop right onto her waiting, eager tongue.~ The insides–below the rich, crisp crust of the gratin–were still piping hot, but Ingrid just didn’t care. It didn’t even hurt her tongue, and she understood just why that was. She saw what Mercie was doing with her hands at the same time she was feeding her–casting a low-level healing spell.~ How devious this woman could be…~ Not that Ingrid’s tummy even needed healing magic to get all massive anymore.~
 
And it proved this fact as she continued to eat. Bit after bit, bite after bite, gulp after gulp, it all disappeared down Ingrid’s gullet.~ By the time the second gratin was gone, the entire cart that Mercie had been feeding her from sat empty–and so Mercedes pushed it over into the corner with the rest of her growing pile of victims. But as that belly grew, something else seemed to shrink in return…~
 
Shrrip!~
 
Ingrid gasped as she felt a small chill at her sides. Her hands roamed over to feel just what had caused them, and that’s when she discovered the two identical, vertical tears along the stitching at her dress’ sides.~
 
“O-Oh my- GHOouUuRRP!~” Ingrid slapped her hand over her mouth–more in shock than embarrassment. That one had just sneaked right out of her… And here she’d been trying to hold them in too. But not because she wanted to be polite, oh no…~ She had uses for all that gas she’d been brewing up.~ “I um… I-It seems I’ve started to outgrow my dress a little faster than I thought I- Mph!~”
 
Ingrid didn’t get to finish, as Sylvain suddenly cupped her chin and forced her head in his direction, before planting a warm, loving kiss right on her lips.
 
She may not have blushed when the burp fired free, nor when the tiny tears had ripped along her sides, but she certainly felt her cheeks growing hot now.~
 
“S-Sylvain!” She chastised, wiping her lips with her sleeve. An utterly improper move, but seeing as how the dress wasn’t long for this world…~ And besides, things were getting rather improper indeed regardless.~ “Just what was that for?”
 
“Oh, what?” Sylvain shrugged. “I’m not allowed to kiss my wife when she does something so irresistibly sexy?~” He ran his fingers in circles around one of the tears as he spoke, tugging on it a little, testing its durability–how likely it was to rip even bigger. Then he plunged his fingers into it and she could feel just how little space his digits had to move around in there.~ Her belly was overfilling every single inch of that dress, as it got more and more overfilled itself.~
 
She put a hand over his as his fingers swam around in there, gently rubbing his knuckles with her thumb.
 
“I-I had nothing to do with it. If I’m not mistaken, it was you two who decided to fill me so full.” She said, even though she knew her stomach hadn’t even begun to stretch yet, even as it finally touched her knees. And as it growled in contradiction to her claim.~ “Goodness, I’m never gonna get the randiness out of you… I swear, if you could, you’d probably be putting more babies in me every night!~” Ingrid hadn’t intended to leave that sentence off in such an amorous-sounding way, but as the words rattled around in her head… And she realized just how appealing that kind of sounded…~
 
“Oh my!” Mercie called as she sashayed her way back over. “If that doesn’t sound like such a wonderful idea…~ Just imagine how many cute little Ingrids and Sylvains we could have running around if that were the case! Hehe, I may just have to send a letter to Lysithea’s abode before our next appointment…~ Or perhaps Constance’s…~”
 
Ingrid shuddered. For multiple reasons.~
 
“L-Let’s not. This is my first pregnancy after all, and I’m already expecting more than… Well, expected.” She looked from Mercedes to Sylvain, studying their expressions as she spoke, and finding them looking a little… Disappointed?
 
“... F-Fine! You can send the letter, if y-you want… Just… L-Let me ease into it, okay?” She hugged her belly protectively, fearing what the coming years may put it through. “Not with these girls… M-Maybe the next batch…~”
 
“Batch?~” Both Mercedes and Sylvain uttered at the same time, as their hands flew to Ingrid’s bump.
 
“Sounds to me like someone’s enjoying carrying a whole band of little knights in her tummy…~ More than she wants to admit.~” Sylvain rubbed his cheek against her belly, hearing all sorts of sounds coming from within. Digestion. Sloshing amniotic fluid.
 
A thundering heartbeat.~
 
Mercie had kneeled at the very front of her belly, and was now swirling her index finger in circles around her inverted navel, smiling at it like a mother might with her newly-popped-out firstborn.
 
Oh, Cichol’s axe, what had she done? That little vocal slip was going to cost her… Cost her thousands in tailoring fees, that was.~
 
“I must agree…~” Mercie added. “And from how many bumps I’m counting as their precious mama tries her best to keep calm, I’d say these little ones are quite eager to meet all of their siblings already.~” She paused, flicking Ingrid’s navel and giggling as the fair, blonde, gravid lady’s back arched and her legs trembled, the tears at her sides splitting wide open as her belly bowled forward as a result.~ “... Or rather, perhaps they’re still just hungry.~” Mercie teased, whispering the words into Ingrid’s bump as it hung a few inches over her hips–some extra room for growth being cleared now that the stitches had fully torn.
 
“Ravenous…~” Ingrid muttered under her shaking breaths.
 
“What was that, baby?~” Sylvain scooted closer to her lips, and Ingrid’s heartbeat spiked as she imagined just slurping him up whole… Just to get a little more full…~ Just to feed the babies…~
 
“F-Feed me.~” She shuddered as she looked into his eyes, finding that he already knew well what she wanted. He just wanted her to say it.~ “Feed me until I pop…~” Sothis, she was sounding like Hapi now…~
 
“In one way or another.~ Right?~” Sylvain patted her tummy like a drum as he stood–slowly sneaking his hand upwards and letting it brush against her breasts as he did, which caused Ingrid to shiver as his manly hands brushed against her insanely tender chest–and Ingrid slowly nodded, biting her lip to muffle the giggle that came afterwards.
 
Ingrid slowly, carefully adjusted herself in her seat as her loving friend and soulmate both wandered off to get more food. She took deep, long breaths, gently pawing at her own belly as it gurgled, the little lives inside flipping about. Eventually, she managed to fully pull herself together, and settled in with a sigh, a slight smile on her face. This was already just as wonderful as she imagined.~ Who knew pregnancy would let her loosen up so much?~
 
As Mercie wandered away, shaking her hips as usual, she muttered something. Ingrid could only barely hear it, but she just managed to make it out, over the sounds of her eagerly digesting stomach.
 
“Note to self… Pregnancy hormones and Nuvelle Appetite Draught… Very interesting mix.~”
 
-
 
“Come on, mama… Just a little more…~” Mercedes assured, easing the next spoonful of spiced pudding through Ingrid’s trembling lips. Sothis, she hadn’t eaten like this in months…~ Her appetite had steadily been increasing more and more as her pregnancy went on, and she got rather huge during last week’s baby shower/banquet. But even then… That was a formal occasion. She hadn’t eaten as much as she had now–in order to show a proper face, whilst still indulging in the belly craze that had swept through the land.
 
Her belly hadn’t been nearly as big as it was now… Hehe, it was as big as one of those large, bouncy balls Mercie had provided her in order to prepare for her eventual labor.~ It was hanging heavily over her knees, her babies’ kicks only slightly visible through her turgid skin… Which could now easily be seen through the various tears in her once gorgeous dress.~ A tear had opened over her navel, allowing everyone to see that her outie had now grown from a gold coin in size, to a golf ball.~ In addition, two horizontal tears had formed at her sides, and her firm-yet-not-full belly eagerly bulged out into the free space that these openings had provided.
 
Those three rips, however, seemed to spell destruction and ruin for her once-favorite dress…~ They were all lined up, with the two at her sides seemingly leading into the one at her navel, with only a few patches of nearly-sheer green fabric keeping her tummy contained. But not for long.~ As she swallowed the last bite, she could hear the fabric shredding just a little more…~
 
“All gone. Good job, honey.~” Sylvain kissed her again. He’d stopped feeding her at this point–instead taking up the mantle of professional belly rubber. And goodness, had he earned that title.~ Ingrid felt like he knew just where to touch: Where he could target to break up large dams of stubborn food, or tensing muscles he could urge to relax with his tender touch.~ And, well… He wasn’t exactly keeping his hands to her belly either.~ Every now and then he’d allow them to slide upwards, getting a good handful of Ingrid’s milk containers, and letting her feel as her bra became more and more drenched with a warm, maternal liquid…~
 
“I’d ask if you’re ready for more, but with how much your eyes have been undressing that whole roast pig over there for the past hour or so, I’d say the answer’s obvious.~”
 
Ingrid simply huffed through her nostrils, and gave Sylvain a little playful punch in the arm.
 
“I’m- BwWwOoOUuRRAAAPH!~ -S-Stuffed to the brim, and you still want me to eat something that big?” She said, eyeing it and completely ignoring the truth of his words–in that she had, indeed, been daydreaming of devouring that whole thing ever since the kitchen staff had brought it out.
 
Just imagining the act of opening her lips wide, and stuffing the whole thing in snout-first, then just gobbling it down in a few, hefty gulps…~ Her throat stretching to let it all pass through… Her dress’ chest being stressed so much as it was gulped down that it couldn’t bare the pressure and simply split its seams–seconds before the tatters covering her belly exploded in the same way–exposing her enormous breasts and bump to the open air…~ Aah, if only she knew that one spell Lysithea had concocted for Ashe and Hapi’s more… Peculiar tummy fun times.~
 
“Sylvain, I know I’m huge and ripe looking–even without all this food in my gut…~ But I’d still like to keep our children baking inside until they’re ready to come out on their own. A-And I’d rather keep the rest of my organs right where they belong as well…” A low rumble came from deep within her guts as she said that…
 
“Dear, come now.” Mercie said, looking at her incredulously. “I think we all know you well enough by now to understand that you have much more room left in this beautiful belly.~” She leaned down, letting Ingrid get another gorgeous eyeful of cleavage–and how the sweat that had pooled in it slowly dripped down the length of her breasts like water droplets cascading down a melting ice block, now that she had bent over–as she gave that “Beautiful belly” a few pats. Which then turned into some slow rubs. And then a kiss.~ And then a grope of what sat above the bump…~ Goodness, they just couldn’t keep their hands off of her.~ “So why don’t we show your little ones just how much of a hedonistic piggy their mama can be by shoving an entire piggy down your throat?~”
 
Ingrid shivered. Goodness, Dorothea had taught her well… Mercie knew just how to hit her in ways that Sylvain was more hesitant to… S-She didn’t like to admit it, but being talked to in that way… Lovingly demeaned–talking about just how much of a dirty little gluttonous gutslut she could be…~ M-Mmh, no, okay, she n-needed to calm down…
 
“... Bring the pig. And the potatoes. And some pie and bubbly water. And feed it to me all at once.~” Ingrid’s knocked knees rubbed together as she squeezed her hands into her gut, feeling all of the trapped gas inside rumbling about, churning up her digesting food and massaging the children in her neighboring womb… Not long now before she could let it out…~ She had to make sure she was good and gassed for it though… Didn’t want to waste it.~ “... Maybe two of each, actually…~”
 
“Ooh, somebody’s finally going all out, huh?~” Sylvain ran his hands all over her bump as he spoke, settling one a little… Low on the curve of her gut…~ “About time… I was wondering when you were gonna give these guys a proper meal.~”
 
“No.” She shook her head, blushing, her head feeling a little light. Like she was drunk on the sheer amount of food she’d eaten.~ “They… They’ve been full for a while now.~ Now it’s all for me.~” Her lips curled up into a sly smile, her eyes narrowing.~
 
Sylvain chuckled, pressing his body tighter against Ingrid’s ballooned belly.
 
“Greedy mama…~ Trying to give our children siblings already, and Mercedes hasn’t even sent the letter yet.~” He tapped his fingers atop the growing, growling gut–a move that typically would’ve made the babies gently kick back, had they not been pushed farther out inside their mama’s tummy to make room for all of their food siblings to grow.~ “How many do you think you’re having now?” He asked, flattening his palms against her tum and rubbing attentively with his ear against her stomach. As if he were trying to find something inside. “Quads? Quints? Octuplets?~ Oh, counting both real babies and food babies, of course.~”
 
Ingrid giggled at his stupidity, joining in on the rubbing and trying to come up with an answer herself. With her belly steadily churning and pumping up with more and more gas, it was hard to give a definite answer… But…
 
“Nonuplets. Nine. Three real babies, six made of food. That’s my official guess.” It felt a little freeing to finally get her estimation out there–she’d been trying to decide for months now, and wanted to see if she could find out on her own before Mercedes revealed the official number.
 
“There are definitely more than one pair of little feet standing on my bladder every night, but with how often they kick, how big I’ve gotten so fast, how intense my cravings are now… It has to be more than two as well.” Her hands gently rubbed the farthest reaches of her tummy–as far as she could reach, anyway–and felt little flutters bumping around against her fingertips. “That said, I don’t think it’s more than three either. I feel like I would be much bigger than I am even now–w-without the food, of course. And good grief, I don’t want to think about how my appetite would be with four…~” Images of her belly being this size every night flew through her head, along with ones of a belly the size of the Margrave and Margravine’s shared bed.~ Tempting images indeed…~
 
“So that’s your final guess, huh?” Sylvain said with a smile, moving his hands further out, to where the babies were now situated. “... I think that’s about right. Three brave little warriors, keeping their parents up all night already, and they’re not even born yet.~” He chuckled, then nuzzled his cheek lovingly against his growing children.
 
Ingrid melted at his paternal display. Things like this–like his hands cradling her belly all night long, from the second they went to sleep, to the moment when the sunlight forced her eyes to crack open… They only made her love him so much more than she already did.~ She didn’t even think that was possible…
 
“Uh, Ingrid?” Sylvain was looking up at her, eyebrows curled. “You alright honey?”
 
She jolted, eyes blinking rapidly, feeling a wetness on her cheeks. She raised a hand to them and felt what was there. Tears.
 
“O-Oh, uh, y-yes. I’m fine, sorry.” She sniffled. “I’m just… J-Just so happy…” She giggled as she wiped her eyes, her voice all shaky. She probably looked like quite the sight right now–belly as huge as one of those beasts Hapi often accidentally summoned, and sounding just as angry, while she laughed as tears poured from her eyes.
 
Sylvain joined her in laughter. Then he stood, a tender look on his face. He cleared her hands from her face, then leaned in to give a soft, gentle, meaningful kiss. Not one full of lust as the last ones had been. The kind from those silly old fairy tales Ingrid had read as a kid–the ones where she always imagined herself as the hero, rather than the princess in need.
 
A true love’s kiss.~
 
“A-Am I interrupting something?” Mercedes’ voice called from the side, along with a clattering of plates and a screeching of wheels as the cart–brimming with food and drink–that she pushed was brought to a sudden stop. “I- Oh, dear me. Is everything alright? Do we need to stop-”
 
“No.” Both Ingrid and Sylvain hurried to say at the same time, in an inverse of what had happened with Mercie and Sylvain a little bit ago. It seemed like the three of them were just absolutely in-tune with each other today.~
 
“Um… I want to continue, Mercie. I can still eat a lot more, and I definitely want to.” Another agreeing grumble from her gut. “But first… We did have a checkup planned for today, remember?”
 
Mercedes practically slapped herself, with how fast her hand went to her cheek in shock.
 
“Oh dear! I-I apologize, lady Margravine, I simply got a bit caught up in our nostalgic ways, a-and-”
 
“Hey, hey.” Sylvain raised his hands, gently urging Mercedes to calm down. “It’s alright. You’re a friend, Mercie, you don’t have to be all honorable and stuff with us. We’re not gonna throw you in the dungeon or anything like that.” He snickered as he spoke. “We just… Well, kinda seems like we’ve finally come to a conclusion on just what Ingrid’s got growing in her belly. And no, I’m not talking about that burp she’s so obviously saving up.~”
 
“H-Hey!” Ingrid yelled, angry at him for spoiling the fun. Even if her belly’s wailing did make it kind of obvious.~
 
“Oh. I see.” Mercedes cleared her throat, clasping her hands over her lap once more–causing her arms to smoosh her cleavage together as it spilled through her unbuttoned blouse–and stepping away from the cart. “Well, there’s no need to delay, then. I’m eager and curious to see if your predictions are correct.~”
 
Mercie kneeled before Ingrid’s massive belly, gently placing her hands to the left and right of her popped belly button–which was now around the size of a large, golden coin. Then her hands began to glow a light, gentle green, as the insides of Ingrid’s tummy grew so, so pleasantly warm…~ She always loved this part, feeling Mercie’s magic pouring into her like soothingly warm water, filling all the crevices between the food, swirling in her amniotic fluid…~ The way it made her bump glow with a dull green light was fun too, in a way.
 
“Okay… And you two are certain you’re ready to guess? There’s no going back from this.” She looked to Ingrid, then to Sylvain.
 
Both took a moment to look into each other’s eyes, drinking in the moment as everything was about to become so much more… Real. In a delightful way.~
 
Then they nodded. And Mercie smiled.
 
“Three children, all growing healthily and without issue. All girls.”
 
All emotion drained from Ingrid’s face for a moment. But only a moment, as with the increasing thundering of her heart, a dumb, wide smile grew across her face, and she began to giggle like a schoolgirl. No tears came from her eyes, though she certainly felt happy enough to cry.
 
“Darn.” Sylvain said with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck–sinking back into that old habit in an adorable way. “I got the number right, but I thought there’d be at least one boy in there. Oh well.” He leaned down to kiss her bump for the hundredth time that day. “Papa loves all of his girls so much nonetheless.” He then raised and made his way to Ingrid’s side, dragging his hand across her bump all the while as he walked. “Every last one of them.~” He kissed her once more, and Ingrid did her best to lean into it, though her continued chuckles sort of made it a little hard to.
 
“Oh, goodness…” She tried her best to calm down in the aftermath, taking deep breaths to try and still her heart and kill the giddiness she felt. “I… I’m just… Sothis, I couldn’t be ha-”
 
HHhHhUuUOoOOoOOOoOOOOOOOoooOOOOOOOOOoOUuUUUrRRRRRrRRRRRrGGGGGGGHHHHH!~
 
A stillness broke out after all of the gas that Ingrid had been saving up decided to sneak out all at once. The only sound in the entire room being the rabid panting that came from her lips, which were glistening with drool. A belch that huge, and that long, meant that Ingrid hadn’t taken a single breath in nearly thirty whole seconds.~
 
“... E-Excuse me.” She sheepishly uttered, her cheeks turning a light red. Then to crimson as her belly gurgled loudly, complaining that it’d been forced to wait for more food now that it’d cleared up so much space by ejecting the gas bomb that Ingrid had been brewing up.
 
“Good one.~” Sylvain chuckled, then gave her a peck on the cheek as a reward… And snaked a hand down her back, stopping at her backside to reward himself as well with a rather firm handful that caused her to gasp into his lips.~ It was like he was trying to fluster her until she turned into a puddle of pregnant goop…~
 
“I agree.~ My, that sounded like one of Hapi’s! If not Annette’s.~” Mercedes added with a giggle and a wink, as she stopped pouring her magic into Ingrid’s bump, and the warming feeling sadly left along with it, while the motherly midwife mage raised from her knees. “And don’t you worry about a thing–I’ve been filling bellies for long enough to know what that sound means.~” She said, pointing down to Ingrid’s demanding belly.
 
Mercedes made her way back to the cart and pulled it closer, allowing Ingrid to see the pies, pigs, and potatoes that took up every last level of it. More than two of each–save for the pigs, as there were only two of those to begin with. Well enough–just one of the things would be enough to leave her feeling full enough to call it a night.
 
But, well… Ingrid was sort of eyeing something else at the moment.
 
The carts had begun dwindling, and only the ones containing the largest meals now remained–with a new cart coming from the kitchen only every half hour or so now. Ingrid and her tum-loving posse seemed to understand that this meant the kitchen staff was either getting tired, running out of food to prepare, or both. And while the latter was an absolutely intoxicating thought, the former made Ingrid sort of feel bad. That’s why she’d told Sylvain to go and tell the chefs to stop cooking. They still had plenty of food left to shove down her gullet–especially since now all that remained were huge things, like roast pigs, mixing bowls of mashed potatoes, huge pans of gratin, and entire, huge roasted birds, which looked just as stuffed as she was.~
 
… Ok, well, maybe not quite as stuffed as she was.~
 
But regardless. No matter how many foods Ingrid had at her disposal, just waiting to slide down her throat and bulge her belly out until her babies were ready to be born prematurely, and in an utterly explosive way… Ingrid just didn’t want them. Not at the moment.
 
Because she was thirsty… And she knew just what she wanted to drink.~ Something that’d replace all of that lost gas from her accidental belch for sure…~
 
“Mercie,” Ingrid pointed to a huge jug of liquid sitting on the cart that Mercedes had just pulled a large bowl of potatoes from. “I think all of that salty food has left my throat feeling quite parched. If you wouldn’t mind, could you maybe… Get me a little something to drink?~” She asked, well knowing that those jugs of bubbly water contained a gallon of liquid each.~
 
Mercedes stopped for a moment, looking over her shoulder to spot exactly what Ingrid had been talking about. Then a smirk appeared on her face, and she swapped the jug with the potatoes with as much grace as a treasure hunter trying his best to not set off a trap in some ancient old tomb.
 
“Of course.~ How silly of me, to not realize you’d be left feeling a bit thirsty after everything. You’ll have to let me make it up to you.~” Mercedes said, picking up another jug of water before she began wagging her hips back over to Ingrid.
 
Two gallons of the stuff… Ingrid already had over a hundred pounds of food in her gut, surely, but when it came to liquid… Well, not counting her stomach acid, her belly was sort of a dessert in that respect. This would work wonders then…~ Ah, she’d have to give Annie a kiss the next time she saw her.~ Her impromptu choice to apply wind magic to bottled water had been a wonderful invention indeed, and Ingrid’s tummy was about to thank her for it in advance.~ Not like the hundreds of belches Ingrid had produced because of it hadn’t been enough of a “Thank you…~”
 
Mercedes arrived back at Ingrid’s side, and she began to sit one of the jugs onto the table in front of the glutted-up gutslut of a mama–presumably thinking it’d be too difficult to pour both jugs down her throat at once.
 
Only for Sylvain to reach out his hand.
 
“Give one of those here, please. I’m thinking I’ve been way too passive. Been a long time since we did something like this, and I wanna enjoy it just as much as you two.~” Sylvain’s declaration of intent seemed to resonate with Mercedes, as she handed over one of the jugs without a word.
 
Only a smile.~
 
“Alright now dear, open those pretty lips for us…~” Ingrid obliged, with Mercedes’ gentle, soft fingers on her chin helping to ease her mouth open while her red cheeks grew darker.
 
“Gimmie a tap if you need a breath, okay?” Sylvain said as he brought the jug closer, the lip of its pouring edge situated just over Ingrid’s open mouth.
 
She nodded, and Mercedes brought her jug closer as well…
 
Then they began to pour.~
 
Almost immediately, Ingrid’s mouth filled. She found herself having to swallow and gulp every second or so, just to keep up with the flow of two whole gallons of liquid being poured into her at once, like she was some sort of huge, bloated wineskin, with three smaller wineskins kicking around inside of her.
 
The taste of the water was pretty good as well, which definitely helped her keep up. In addition to sweetinging it with pure refined sugar, honey had been added as well, which gave the liquid a slight amber color and a delightful syrupy taste. It certainly wasn’t an unpleasant drink by any means–as was made obvious by the fact that it had taken the entire land of Fodlan by storm. It was just a little challenging to keep up when so much was being drained into her at once. And the bubbles kind of hurt her throat a little too…
 
But she pressed onward. Ingrid had fought tougher battles than this, and came out the victor each time. She wasn’t about to let this stop her. Even as she pressed both her hands against the sides of her belly, feeling it puff out inch by inch with each gulp–hearing the snapping, ripping and tearing of the ruined fabric of her dress as it did its best to hold on for dear life…
 
By the time that the jugs were half empty, her dress was little more than a collection of thick, impossibly stretched threads. Her gut pushed out between the strands that made up the patches of fabric between the three tears, making her look as if she were wearing some sort of odd fishnets. And yet, there was still a gallon to go in total… Goodness she was so full.~
 
Gulp~
 
Gulp~
 
Gulp~
 
Her throat bulged with each mouthful, entire cups of liquid being sent pouring down her throat every few seconds. Her belly was barely keeping up–seeming to grow with reckless abandon in order to accept every last drop they gave her. To drink so much in so little time… It wasn’t like eating an entire boar. There was no taking her time–snacking on little bites of a ham between entire pork chops–and there were definitely no breaks. She simply had to gulp it all down at once, whether she, her throat, or her belly liked it.
 
GWwwWOOoUuURrRRRRrRRRRnNNNnNHhhHhHHH!~
 
Ooh…~ And it certainly seemed like her belly liked it.~
 
Gulp~
 
Gulp~
 
Gulp~
 
O-Oh. This was it. The streams were thinning, the jugs close to being upturned. Goodness, she was sooooo full… Mmh, she thought she might burst.~ And the streams of liquid weren’t the only things that were thinning either… Ingrid felt at the threads of fabric keeping her dress together, noting how thin they’d grown… So thin and stretched that they played a note when she plucked them.~
 
“Last bit…~” Sylvain announced as both he and Mercedes turned their jugs upside down, letting the last few droplets of honeyed, bubbly water trickle out into the pool that had formed inside of his wife’s mouth.
 
Ingrid shut her mouth as they pulled away, her cheeks bulging like those of a chipmunk looking to stash his horde for the winter. She tried to swallow, but found her throat too tired to take it all down at once. So, instead, she settled for taking a few.
 
Small.
 
Gulp~
 
Gulp~
 
 
Gulp~
 
SSSSSSHHHHRRRRRIP!~
 
“Ahn!~” Ingrid threw her head back, panting, as a wave of relief washed over her tightly packed gut. A torrent of cooling air to calm the inferno she had stoked within her red-hot tummy.~
 
Her belly now reached the table that sat in front of her, protruding from her lap by a good few feet. Now that her dress had ripped so explosively across her middle, there was just nothing to keep it held back anymore.~ It had torn asunder as soon as she gulped that last bit of water, unleashing an absolute flood of tummy that shoshed and gurgled as it came to rest between Ingrid’s lap and the sturdy table ahead.~
 
“G-Goodness…~” Was all that Mercedes could think to say, as she stood watching Ingrid’s tummy in awe. “Your tummy hasn’t lost even a bit of talent.~ And to think, all of this without even a speck of healing magic… It’s enough to make a girl wonder.~” Mercedes giggled, slowly approaching Ingrid’s belly once more and lying both hands on it–sort of leaning into it just a touch…
 
GWwWwWrRRRRRrRRRRROOOOOoOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUURRRRRRRRRNNNNNNN!~
 
Ingrid’s belly roared in response, clearly unhappy with the extra external pressure that had just been placed upon it, now that it was so full, and allowed to be free from its maternal confines. Mercedes straightened right away, giving the belly a quick pat in apology–which at least the babies seemed to accept, as they gave a few quick flutters at the farthest reach of Ingrid’s belly, where all three children now sat thanks to the growth of her digestive organs.
 
“You alright, babe?” Sylvain asked, gently placing a hand atop her hot, bare belly, and giving it a rub.
 
“Oh…~ Oh…~” Ingrid gave a few moans, but managed to quiet her quivering womb–save for the motions of the children inside it–by biting her lip and focusing for a moment. “Oh, I am c-certainly more than alright…~” She smiled, giggled, as she looked between Mercedes and Sylvain, uncertain of who she wanted to kiss more. “And… With all this room I’ve just managed to clear up,” She paused, rubbing wide circles into her bare belly and making a show of how the removal of the dress had allowed her belly to billow out to its fullest extent, and implying that all of that liquid had actually allowed her to clear up space as a result…
 
RrRRRrRRRRRoOOoOOOOOOOWwWWWWWWWwWWNnNNnNNNHhHHH…!~
 
… Though the gurgling of her stuffed-to-the-brim gut kind of called her on her bluff. She hadn’t burped afterwards on purpose, after all, and so all of that gas was right back to where it belonged–swirling around in her gut, waiting to explode out at the right moment.~
 
“... I would say I’m ready for something big.” She licked her lips as she eyed the pigs, still genuinely hungry, even as her tummy tried to warn her against having more.
 
“Something… Meaty.~ Yes, that’ll fill me up, surely…~”
 
She lied.
 
-
 
Ingrid was glutted.
 
Stuffed.
 
Bursting.
 
About to explode.~
 
Goodness, she hadn’t been stuffed like this without healing magic in so long that she’d nearly forgotten what it was like…~ To feel every single part of your middle stretching to its limits–her stomach numbly pulsing under her skin, threatening to split itself apart at any second, her intestines packed to the brim like overstuffed sausages, even her womb was utterly packed full this time, her three little girls thrashing about with every new bite of food, pushing back against the overfilled organs that were pressing them so tightly inside of their mother’s achingly full gut.~ Mmh, even her skin felt ready to tear–her linea nigra seeming more like a line of pressure, wish would split her right down the middle at any moment now…~
 
… Of course, none of that would actually happen. Ingrid’s tummy was strong, having been reinforced again and again over the years by a combination of constant stretching, and healing magic allowing her to stay larger for longer, which effectively caused her already abnormal appetite and capacity to explode. And besides, if things ever really did get dangerous, Ingrid had one of the best healers in all of Fodlan standing before her. Practically all she’d have to do is snap her fingers, and Ingrid would be back in top shape, ready for seconds.~
 
But as things stood… Ingrid was getting absolutely full. Jam packed, in fact. She may have been mistaken–give her a break, she was suffering from pregnancy brain and horny brain at the same time–but from what she could remember, she was pretty certain that this was the biggest she’d ever been without healing magic to help her along.~
 
Her belly, now free from any and all confines, was resting on the floor ahead. Ingrid had scooted herself to the very edge of her chair in order to let it sit comfortably on the rug below, gurgling away its massive horde of culinary treasures in peace. If Sylvain were held horizontally against the length of Ingrid’s gut, his toes would probably meet at Ingrid’s very side, and the top of his head would reach all the way to her popped-out navel–which now resembled a handball more than a golf ball. That was just how massive she’d become.~
 
Ingrid thought back upon everything she’d eaten. The creamy, garlicky mashed potatoes–ten whole mixing bowls of them. Sandwiches jam-packed with every type of cheese and meat imaginable. Stuffed, roasted pheasants and turkeys–three of each. Enough lobsters to form a small ocean inside her bubbling gut–with enough butter to really get things bubbling inside.~ A simply uncountable amount of Gautier Cheese Gratin–and yet she still found herself wishing for more of the deliciously cheesy dish…~ And all of that and more had come before the final dishes… Those two huge, unimaginably succulent roast pigs–big enough to be called boars, had they not been domesticated.~
 
She’d started by devouring the apples in each of their mouths first, taking each down in a few, hedonistically hungry chomps. Then she worked her way through the beds of roast veggies they rested upon, chewing through carrots and beets like a starved rabbit. Then, and only then, did she get to the main course.~
 
The pigs had been slathered in a delicious, thick sauce, which had been applied again and again as they roasted. The result was a layer of sauce so rich and thick that it coated the inside of Ingrid’s mouth as she ate, smearing all over her lips as well. Though she made sure to lap up every last bit of it.~ No way was she wasting even a drop of this…~ Oh, and not to mention how the sauce had sort of solidified in spots, giving the meat an extra crunch that only complimented the pigs’ delectably roasted skin.~
 
And the meat itself too…~ Mmh.~ So juicy, and with a bite that encouraged one to just keep eating no matter what–perfectly tender, but not to the point that the meat simply melted in your mouth. So wonderfully chewable that she didn’t even register the pounds upon pounds of meat that she’d already gulped down as the next forkful always found its way into her gob.~
 
… Until she’d eaten the first pig, that was.
 
After realizing that she’d devoured an entire boar-sized pig in under an hour, Ingrid felt a shiver run down her spine–concluding as a rapidly increasing warmth between her thighs.~ She looked on at the cleanly-picked bones with pride, patting her humongous gut and drinking in the pleasure of knowing that every last bit of the animal it had formerly been was now right where it belonged.~ Stripped of its tasty meat from its snout to its formerly curly little tail…~
 
She belched on instinct as her eyes flickered over to the next boar, eyelids fluttering as she settled her gaze upon it–from a combination of both thick, enveloping lust, and the oncoming food coma she’d been fighting off ever since the sun began to set. Sothis, how long had she been eating now? It seemed her breakfast turned into lunch, then to dinner, and before she knew it, she’d spent all day just cramming down whatever her beloved feeders decided to glut her with next.~
 
Oof, all those calories… Ingrid had never been more glad that her body had always naturally pushed all of her plushness into her curves. Even with the Draught mitigating most of the calories, she’d still eaten so much that thousands of calories would still make it through…She’d have to plan another shopping trip for clothes to fit her boosted curves whenever her belly finally finished churning through everything she’d so rudely forced it to put up with.~ And she’d certainly be dragging Sylvain along for it, so he could watch her model them for him in the changing rooms.~ And she’d spend plenty of time proving to him that her current bra and panty sizes were too small, now that she’d digested everything, of course…~
 
A-Anyway, the second boar was definitely more of a challenge than the first. By the time she’d finished the first, she had been as big and full as she’d ever been without healing magic pushing her onward. And though Mercedes had offered to lie her hands on her gut and pump it full of enough healing magic to patch up an entire wounded band of soldiers, Ingrid felt more like testing her true limits…~ Letting every one of her abdomen’s fillable organs get as full as they could possibly be, then pushing them far over the limit.~ She was already there, so why not keep going?~
 
And so she ate. And ate.
 
And ate.~
 
It was a slow, laborious process–one that Ingrid imagined labor itself would compare to, only much tastier–but she had managed to eat her way through the final pig. The final bit of food in the entire dining room–which was now a veritable graveyard of barren food carts, platters, and bowls.
 
Porkchop by porkchop, loin by loin.
 
Until… Now. When only a handful of ribs stood between her and stuffing nirvana.~
 
She sucked on one after Sylvain brought it to her panting, waiting lips. She didn’t eat them from the side, as one tended to eat ribs. Instead, she’d instructed her feeders to just plunge them into her mouth longways, so that she could strip all of the succulent meat from the bones in mere seconds–clamping her teeth down as she felt the very tip of the ribs poking at the back of her throat, and taking all the meat off in a single bite as Sylvain or Mercie pulled the rib from her mouth. Always bare. Picked completely clean.~
 
She’d slowed down, however. The downside of gorging without either healing magic or the appetite enhancing aspect of the Draught was that once she got full, she got full. Ingrid wasn’t really used to that anymore. With how much her capacity had increased over the years, and the concurrent spiking in appetite–which her little pod of girls had only intensified–the sensation of being full without those two enhancements egging her on had become kind of an elusive thing.
 
But that only made it so much more tantalizing.~
 
Ingrid wrapped her tongue around the bone, refusing to let it go until it was completely stripped of all meat and sauce. She even allowed her tongue to edge out of her mouth, eagerly licking at her husband’s fingers while staring up at him with half-lidded eyes.~ O-Only to slurp up the little spatterings of sauce that were stuck to them, of course…
 
Sylvain did eventually manage to wrestle the bone away from her though. Only for Mercedes to swiftly replace it with the next.~
 
At this point, taste was more of an afterthought than anything. When your belly was as close to splitting open from the inside out as Ingrid’s was, you tended to focus on that, rather than how tasty the food you were still eating was.~ The tingling from her linea nigra, the numbing sensitivity of her navel–which was now the size of Sylvain’s fist from how big her tummy had gotten.~ And not to mention the food coma she was constantly fighting off too. She had bigger things to worry about than taste, as you can see.~
 
The sun had fully gone down now as well. The only light in the room came from the candles that were spread all around, illuminating Mercedes and Sylvain in a beautifully intimate low light.~ They somehow looked even more delicious in the near-dark… And Ingrid felt immensely ready to just gobble them up.~ Or, perhaps, they’d be the ones devouring her…~ Feeding her, glutting and stuffing her like a turkey filled to bursting…~ Just to haul her back to bed, strip her of her coverings, and devour her…~
 
She could think of few things better at the moment.~
 
“Last one.~ After this, you’ll have eaten everything.~ Absolutely every last bit of food, all nicely packed away, and going towards fostering the lovely next generation of House Gautier… And making sure they’ll be well-fed once they’re born as well.~” Mercedes giggled with her mouth shut, allowing the hand that sat on top of Ingrid’s gut to slide up, until it slipped underneath one of Ingrid’s massive breasts, hefting it and feeling how how heavy it was.~ How it sloshed.~ “Mmh… P-Pardon me if this is too forward, but I may have to… Get a taste for myself, once this is over.~ I-If only to determine the quality…~”
 
It was not too forward. Not at all.~ Ingrid and Sylvain had both agreed on a few crucial things over the course of their marriage. Things like: Ingrid gets to pick dinner, always. Sylvain handles the regulatory stuff, while Ingrid manages the barracks.
 
And… For both of them, Mercedes, Annette, and Dorothea were free passes.~ When it came to tummy fun, at least. They were adults, they knew they loved each other. The babies in her belly were more than proof of that. So what was the issue in responsibly having some fun with some tummed-up cuties?~
 
“Of course it is.” Sylvain interjected, while Ingrid’s mind was still swimming with images of Mercedes with a round belly of her own, needing to be burped like a baby full of its mother’s milk.~ “Ingrid only gets the best, so it only makes sense that she’d only produce the best as well.~ And besides, as her main supplier, I’ve gotten an early taste test of my own. And lemme tell you, the product is more than quality.~”
 
Ingrid snapped out of her food haze for just a moment. Just long enough to lightly slap Sylvain on the arm.
 
Her feeders took this as a sign to not keep the lady waiting. And so Mercie got to work.
 
“Ready?” She asked, positioning the rib’s tip right at the edge of Ingrid’s lips.
 
When Ingrid’s response came in the form of wrapping her lips around the thing, and sucking it down until a small bulge appeared at the top of her throat, Mercedes felt she’d been given the go-ahead.
 
Slowly, steadily, Mercedes began to pull the rib from Ingrid’s mouth. Inch by inch, more and more of the perfectly pristine ivory was exposed, all of the tender meat having been torn from bone by Ingrid. She could feel the meat piling up, the wonderful taste on her tongue managing to sneak through the overwhelming feeling of fullness–the seemingly impending explosion.
 
And then… It was over. The bone was gone, and she was left with a mouthful of meat for the hundredth time that day. Not counting the early breakfast she’d been given in bed as well…~
 
She began to chew, taking her time with each bite as she savored the flavor and texture of her final meal of the day. While preparing her tummy to take it at the same time…~
 
Chew…
 
Chew…
 
Chew…
 
Gulp.~
 
WwWWwwWRRRRRrRrRooOoOOoOOoOOOOOOOoOOOOooOOuUUUUURRRrRRRRrGGGgGGGGGNnNNNnNNNNNNnNNNnNNHhHHHHHH!~
 
Ingrid’s belly erupted. She had never heard it so loud in all her life. The pressure inside had spiked all at once as soon as she swallowed the final bite. Sothis, it felt like her food was alive–kicking, screaming, shifting all around inside of her bursting belly. Not to mention the flurry of kicks from her little ones as well… Goodness, the sound was so loud that it’d shaken some of the furniture, and even managed to blow out one of the candles!
 
Her entire belly trembled. It shook–shivered, thrashed. She felt something inside give, a sudden release of pressure following the shocking spike of it that had come before. Ingrid braced, grabbing the arms of her chair so hard that her knuckles turned white as her breathing became ragged–heavy.
 
Oh… O-Oh, Sothis… Saint Seiros… Ingrid was… I-Ingrid was about to-!
 
GWwWwwUUuUuURGK!~
 
BWWWWOWOOOWOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHH-UGH!~
 
… Burp.~
 
Ahn.~ It felt sooooo good to finally let that go.~ She’d been saving it up for so long…~ Hehe, it’d even managed to blow out a few more candles.~ Ingrid blushed, her ears picking up the sounds of roaring, muffled applause coming from the kitchens as her belly bubbled and burbled, quietly content and absolutely glutted.~
 
Mercedes and Sylvain, meanwhile… Stood there shocked. They must’ve thought it was too much, that Ingrid was about to… Well, you know.~
 
But after taking a moment, blinking, allowing their brains to catch up and process what had just happened… They smiled.
 
Then they pounced.~
 
Mercedes dove in for a kiss, doing her best to embrace as much of Ingrid’s explosively full, pregnant belly as her arms could reach. Ingrid could feel the warmth on her cheeks as their lips met, their lipsticks mixing as much as their spit.~
 
Sylvain, meanwhile, was at her side, grabbing as much of the tears in her dress as he could and pulling revealing the full extent of Ingrid’s gut, and splitting the dress all the way up to her underarms, and down to the bottom curve of her hips. Mercedes, seeing this, decided to pause her make-out session for a moment. She moved down, ripping Ingrid’s dress in the same way Sylvain had. Then the two of them grabbed the top of the tear over her belly–fishing it out from underneath her massive bust… And they pulled.~
 
The result came quickly. With a wonderful shredding sound, the entire top half of Ingrid’s dress was torn apart. Her bra was exposed–showing just how much her meaty, milk-filled chest was overflowing past the bra’s cups and straps–and the front of it was absolutely drenched.~M-Much like the lower undergarments also were…~
 
Mercedes instantly dove for her chest, getting more than a handful with each hand, while leaning back in to continue their kiss. Dorothea had done wonders for this girl…~
 
Sylvain appeared in her line of sight, resting a hand atop her gurgling belly.
 
“I’ll go get the cart.” He said, grinning with that same stupid, lovely smile that had always made her just melt into him.~ “I think it’s time we put this mama to bed.~” He said, kissing her belly and giving it a pat before walking out of the dining room with his shirt still off. Oops. Oh well; Ingrid wasn’t complaining about the view that allowed her to see as he walked off.~
 
Mercie grunted, moaning through her nose as Ingrid did the same. When she finally pulled away, her eyebrows were curled upwards, and it almost looked like steam was puffing from her panting mouth.
 
“I-Is this okay? I should’ve asked first, but… Well…” She smiled, nervously.
 
Ingrid smiled back, lifting a hand to stroke the back of Mercedes’ head, her long, platinum blonde hair feeling oh-so soft…~
 
“Mercie- Bwurph…~ … It’s amazing.~” Ingrid pulled her back in for a kiss, while her other hand moved up to Mercie’s chest, feeling just what Dorothea had done to those as well.~
 
“H-Hehe…” Mercie giggled through her gulps of air after breaking the kiss for a moment. “T-That was… Hehehe, you sounded just like little Annie.~ A belch for the record books…~”
 
Ingrid blushed, then went back in for another kiss. Hah…~ How wonderful…~ Tonight was going to be incredible, if only she could fight off the food coma long enough.
 
After all… An incredible day should end in an equally amazing night.~ Sylvain couldn’t get back soon enough…~
 
-
 
Ingrid felt so wonderfully nostalgic, being carted back to the bedroom in a wheelbarrow. Just as Sylvain had done after their first date…~ Er, well, it wasn’t exactly a date yet when Sylvain had wheeled her around, but it sure became one after they’d gotten back to Sylvain’s room.~
 
… The only difference was that this time, Ingrid’s gut was so heavy–so absolutely bulging and packed with babies and their food siblings–that it required both Sylvain and Mercedes to haul her.~ Each of them had taken a handle of the wheelbarrow for their own, and had put absolutely all of their energy into heaving her along. Neither of them could do it on their own–even after Sylvain’s Crest had activated, he’d still been struggling a bit! Honestly, Ingrid had never been more happy to use the guest room on the bottom floor, rather than attempt to let Mercedes and Sylvain push her up the stairs. And, well… She was a little worried that she’d simply shatter their bed as soon as she was hefted into it…
 
That hadn’t happened, thankfully–though the sturdy wood frame certainly gave a mournful creak when she was lowered onto the mattress, and had been whining still every time she adjusted herself.
 
And even more now that Sylvain and Mercie had joined her on the sheets…~
 
They had both stripped nearly entirely, with only their undergarments keeping them… Almost decent.~ It was only fair, seeing as how Ingrid had been wheeled all the way back to the main abode with her boobs all out–and her panties would’ve been visible too, if not for the absolutely jaw-droppingly gargantuan gut that kept them hidden.
 
From the way that Mercedes’ breasts spilled from her cups, and around her white, beautifully lacy bra’s straps, it became perfectly clear just how much Dorothea had been spoiling her wife. And when one looked a little lower, and saw just how broad the maternal woman’s hips had become… G-Goodness, it was like she was trying to prepare herself for childbirth.~ So perfectly rounded, from the bottom of her waist all the way to her thighs…~ Ingrid let out a muffled moan as she stroked those glorious memories of meals gone by, giving her thighs a squish and delighting in the way the supple, generous flesh just swallowed her hand as soon as Mercedes put her thighs together, wrapping Ingrid’s hand in them…~
 
She was even wearing garters… And not the kind you’d expect to see on such a fair maiden. No, these were more along the lines of the kind you’d expect on that maiden’s wedding night…~ The straps holding her thigh-high stockings on were digging into her flesh, as were the stockings herself. And that’s not to mention the way the garters themselves caused her wonderfully soft hips to spill over just a hair… Nor the way her panties were the kind that allowed themselves to be gulped up almost entirely when worn by such a hungry, huge, generously greedy ass–with only the top half of the fabric being visible.~ The rest had been swallowed whole, giving her heart-shaped behind an absolutely dream-like frame when in combination with the garters…~
 
And not to leave Sylvain out either. Her husband had certainly worked up a sweat on the way back–Mercie was more of a bookworm girl than a “Let’s go out and train!” one–and the way that the droplets of sweat slowly rolled down his body–dripping from his toned arms, wetting his hair and making it stay down for once, wonderfully framing his gorgeous face as even more sweat dripped from his chin before rolling down his pecs, taking their time as they cascaded across the field of his dreamy abs… And she thought she’d gotten an eyeful of him that morning.~ And that wasn’t to mention the certain something she spotted poking out from even further down…~ Ingrid always did love her desserts.~
 
And that’s exactly what she was getting. Her impossibly tasty dessert.~ A big, magnificent treat for a mama who had gotten so magnificently big.~
 
Both Sylvain and Mercedes were all over her, with Mercie currently wrapping Ingrid’s arm in all of her–from her upper arm, which had been practically swallowed whole by Mercie’s cleavage–seeing as how she’d grabbed up Ingrid’s hand and plunged it down through her bra–to her forearm, which felt just how hungry Mercedes’ own tummy was as it gurgled against her, all the way down to her hand, which was engulfed in a smooth, soft prison of thigh meat. One that gave her hand the massage of a lifetime as Mercedes continuously rubbed her thighs together.~ Her hands were hard at work at the same time, with one giving Ingrid’s taut tummy a deep-tissue massage with its palm–causing all kinds of churning, and even the occasional burp–while the other had pushed its way into Ingrid’s outgrown bra, and was… D-Dutifully attending to the sloshing mounds…~ Goodness, Ingrid felt like a cow with how wet her bra was… A-And how it was continuing to get even more soaked with every tug…~
 
For Sylvain’s part, he had essentially thrown himself onto Ingrid’s gut, rubbing as much of it as he could with his entire wingspan. It sent a spike of pleasure rushing from Ingrid’s spine to her packed womb to know that even Sylvain, with how muscular, tall, and strong he was, couldn’t hope to reach his arms around even half of that tummy.~ The tummy he’d helped grow in two ways…~ Goodness, it was almost funny how attached to it he was. Even after all of this had been churned away… Well, Ingrid had thought about teasing him with her plumped-up curves earlier. But she knew he’d still be more interested in where his lovely daughters sat than her enlarged boobs.~ That was just part of why she loved him…~ And it was honestly a shock, considering his old tail-chasing ways.
 
But regardless, these belly rubs weren’t the kind he’d give her in the mornings, when he bonded with the girls growing in Ingrid’s bump and cooed the sweetest things to them. No. These were indulgent.~ Sylvain was enjoying himself just as much as Ingrid was. Both he and Mercie were kissing her constantly–both on the mouth, and all over her ripened, bloated body–groping her, t-teasing her… He’d chuckle with each flick he gave Ingrid’s navel, delighting in how she moaned sharply each time. She couldn’t help it! I-It was just so… S-Sensitive…~
 
“You like that, big girl?~” Sylvain cooed, before doing it again.
 
“A-Annnnh!~ Y-Yes…” She panted out, feeling her legs squirm at the sides of her gut. She’d thought about resting them underneath her belly instead, but with just how heavy her tum was, that was a no-go.
 
“Thought so…~” Sylvain picked himself up from Ingrid’s gut, using it to steady himself as he made his way to the belly’s very front–which nearly hung from the front of the bed. “So if I were to do… Something like this, then…~ Sylvain ran his hand around Ingrid’s small-cannonball-sized navel–currently the absolute most sensitive part of her body–as he spoke. Little tingles–sparks of biological lighting–coursed out from there, running all throughout her stomach, up and down her spine, releasing as little moans and twitches from her legs, curling toes…
 
Then he placed his palm over her outie. Those sparks turned to streams of lightning, coursing all through her body.
 
Then he began to push.
 
And Ingrid exploded.~
 
… Well, in a sense.~
 
As soon as he began, Ingrid felt the pressure inside her spike, mounting with each centimeter he pushed it inwards. Her nerves were on fire, every single one of them all across her stretched-out gut were active at once. Her tummy bulged, swelling up as he pushed, growing tighter and tighter as the pressure valve her outie acted as was itself put under pressure, causing everything inside to get concentrated, forced into one big, pressurized mass… It pushed her breasts up as it swelled, causing her chin to rest right in the middle of her cleavage while Mercedes continued her work–now biting her lip as she watched what Sylvain was doing to her.
 
As the outie became flat with the rest of her belly, Ingrid began to pant like a dog. The pressure… I-It was just too much.~ She felt her stomach throbbing, hammering on her womb, which in-turn caused her babies to begin kicking in resistance. H-Her middle had never been so active… S-So full… So tight!~
 
And yet… Sylvain continued to push.~
 
bbBBbBBRRrRRRRRGGGRrRGGGGGGRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRNNNNNNNN!~
 
Ingrid’s tum let out a loud, sluggish, angered groan. Like a metal structure preparing to collapse in on itself… Just before it began to turn red.
 
Ingrid grit her teeth. It was too much. Way, way too much. She was going to split open at any second! She was desperate for relief of any kind, but there just wasn’t any to be found. Her belly needed that outie in order to keep itself together, and now, as it began to turn inwards for the first time in months…
 
Ingrid clenched her eyes as her belly moaned once more–just as she did as well. One last growl. One last attempt to save itself. Ingrid bit her lip, feeling her navel–her built-in detonator–get so close to being an innie again… She moaned, kicking her legs against the sheets while Mercie hugged Ingrid’s head to her breast, gently cooing to her, stroking her head… Then it happened. Her navel turned inward.
 
GGRrRRRrRRROOOoUUUUURRRRKkKgGILLlLLLRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHKKKKKK!~
 
Something gave. Ingrid felt her back arch out on its own, her belly swelling one more time, turning red from the area around her navel all the way to the very sides of her gut. This was it. She was actually about to… T-To…~
 
ffffffFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRP!~
 
Ingrid… I-Ingrid was…
 
I-Ingrid was so fucking turned on.~
 
She wrestled her way out of Mercedes’ grasp, then used the arm that’d been hooked through Mercie’s cleavage to pull her closer, into a kiss. When they separated, Ingrid pulled once again. Though, this time she pulled at the bra’s front with her hand.~ It came off with a snap, and Mercie gasped, hurrying to cover herself with a handbra and a blush… Before dropping her hands.~ There was no need for decency.~ Not anymore.~
 
“... So I’ll take that as a sign that you liked it?” Sylvain asked, eyebrow raised and lips in a smirk.
 
“If I had that spell from Lysithea, I’d let you give me so many babies that I was left bedbound for the entire pregnancy.” Ingrid said, voice cracking multiple times, her own heart beating in her ears. “So I supposed I enjoyed it, yes.”
 
She giggled, and the others swiftly joined her.
 
“I’d say this session was a success then… It always fills me with pride as a midwife to know that the mother I’m taking care of is left so… Satisfied when it’s all over.~” Mercie breathed in her soft voice, pressing up to Ingrid to speak directly in her ear while her breasts squished against her once more.
 
“Is that why you wore those, then?” Sylvain asked, pointing to Mercedes’ rather lingerie-like undergarments. “I’m no expert here, but they don’t seem like traditional midwife-y attire.”
 
“Yes.~” Had she been wearing those to every one of their appointments? Just waiting for something like this to happen? The thought of that… Mercie, how dirty you’ve become…~ “After all, pregnancy hormones can affect libido quite dramatically. And it is a midwife’s duty to be as prepared for all potential complications as possible. All of them.~” She winked.
 
Sylvain chuckled. “I’m happy to have such an astute midwife taking care of my lovely Margravine, then.~” He scooted away from the navel, and Ingrid gasped and moaned at the same time, as her innie suddenly popped back into an outie, and all of that pressure was relieved at once.~ “You’ll make a fine mother yourself someday, Mercedes.”
 
“Y-Yes, um… W-Well, I’m happy you think so.” She blushed, folding her hands into her lap–which in-turn caused her arms to squish her breasts together once again. And did… Ingrid see something… White at the tips of Mercie’s breasts? “I-In truth… Um… S-Seeing how the two of you are rather important to the region, I assumed that the two of you will often need to be on the move. And, well… T-That means someone else will need to be there to feed the little ones when you’re not around. S-So…” Her blush suddenly turned brighter, and she looked away from Ingrid and Sylvain, off to…
 
… Her bra. Which, on second look, appeared to have a bit more padding than expected below its sexy exterior…
 
… A nursing bra.
 
“... A-Ahem, and so, with the assistance of some old herbal remedies and a fair amount of magic, I believe I have already begun preparing myself for that eventuality. I-In a way…”
 
Ingrid and Sylvain were left sort of in awe after Mercedes had finished speaking. Then, slowly, a smile came to their faces.
 
“I couldn’t have ever hoped for a better midwife. Thank you so much, Mercie!” Ingrid pulled her in for a hug, feeling little droplets of wetness where Mercedes’ chest met her.
 
“I-It was nothing! It’s simply a matter of assisting as much as I can. And since I’ve never had a child of my own… W-Well, I figured it was the least I could do.”
 
“It’s a little bit more than the least, I’d say.” Sylvain huffed out a chuckle. “It means a lot, Mercie. Truly. If there’s anything we can do to repay you, just let us know.”
 
“... Are you not currently repaying me plenty enough?~” Mercie said, patting Ingrid’s full tummy and drawing a belch from her lips.
 
“Fair enough.” Ingrid giggled, a hand to her lips. Then she sighed. “Goodness, I really thought I was going to blow there.~” Another giggle, followed swiftly by a yawn. “Okay, okay. I had a fantastic time today, but… I think this mama needs her rest.”
 
“Oh, of course.” Mercie straightened herself as best she could. “It would be terrible of me to deprive a mother of proper bedrest. Especially one carrying such a heavy, precious load.~” Mercie giggled, then kissed Ingrid’s tummy. “Thank you for today, Silvain, Ingrid. Just let me gather my things and I’ll be on my-”
 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sylvain asked.
 
“Hm? Home, of course. I wouldn’t want to be a burden at all, nor would I wish to interrupt the two of you in any… More lurid activities you may wish to engage in.”
 
“... Are we just deciding to forget how you sat here and milked me?” Ingrid cocked an eyebrow at her, and Mercedes blushed immediately.
 
“N-No, I suppose not… But… Are you certain it’s okay for me to stay overnight? I’ll be taking the couch or whatever you offer, of course, but still-”
 
“There’s plenty of room right here.” Ingrid said, patting the part of the bed Mercie had been sitting on. “Or… If you want…” She patted her belly. “Right here.~”
 
“Hey!” Sylvain whined. “Don’t go giving my personal mattress away, got it?” He chided, dramatically wagging his finger at his wife. “Though… With all she’s done for us today, I suppooooose I could let her use it… For an hour or two. Besides, with how much those babies kick and wake you in the night, I’m sure there’s gonna be a ton of position switching anyway.” He smirked. “If you know what I mean.~”
 
“Ok, well, seems like Sylvain has just offered himself up for sleeping on the couch, so you’ve got plenty of room now Mercie!”
 
“Hey!” Sylvain cried, before everyone burst into laughter.
 
Seeing that she was more than welcome, Mercedes crawled right back into bed, then gently climbed atop Ingrid’s gut. Even then, the weight of an entire person lying on her tummy was something that always took a little getting used to… It was well worth it every time, though.~
 
“Aah…~” Mercedes sighed dreamily. “There’s nothing better than cuddling up with a huge belly.~ No need for a blanket when you've got a bed this warm.~” She giggled, tenderly giving the gut a smooch, which left behind a lip-shaped mark of lipstick in its wake.
 
Ingrid sighed to herself as Sylvain blew out the candle. Even though she knew the fun probably wasn’t over yet–Sylvain was telling the truth when he spoke about the babies waking her, and for some reason, whenever she woke up during the night, her libido always seemed to spike–it was still great to get some rest after eating and… Enjoying herself so much in one day. One for the record books for sure.~
 
Sylvain wished her a good night, love, and did the same for the little ones as well, as he always did. Then, moments later, Ingrid heard soft snoring in her left ear. Just like always. Mercedes seemed to fall asleep quickly as well. Fair enough, she supposed. They’d run themselves ragged today, taking care of her. She’d have to find a way to show them her appreciation tomorrow…~
 
For now though… Ingrid was content. Simply, and utterly content.
 
One last thought coursed through her mind before she fell asleep, but not one of the babies, as she typically had before bed. She knew they were fine from how gently and peacefully they were drifting around in her womb as they slept soundly–the gurgling from her belly acting as a lullaby for them, as well as Sylvain and Mercie. She focused on the thought as she drifted off into dreams, a silly, devious smile on her lips and a giggle in her throat.
 
‘... Man, am I glad that I’m basically naked right now. With everything I ate, these underwear are going to be shredded come morning. And there will still be even more to digest after that, seeing how stuffed I am… Well, regardless… I have a feeling I won’t be needing clothes anyway.~’