"I had come on a missionary trip with my husband and his group to learn from and convert a largely isolated civilization. It took us weeks to find them, and when we did, we were ambushed. While my husband and his group were in less than ideal conditions, the natives treated me well, feeding me almost constantly. I tried to resist, even tried to turn the meals away after a while and try to bargin for my group.

Eventually I learned it was all cause they thought I was a living form of their Goddess. I tried to reject the blasphemous notion, but stuck to it to keep good relations...not that it lasted long. Before long I became so fat I could barely move from my spot, and I stopped caring about my old life or trying to rescue my husband and his group. It seemed my body even seems to have magical properties to it now, where even my milk is used to feed the young and the sick with magical healing properties.

Eventually the feedings didn't stop at the plentiful food they had, it was in sacrifices. My husband and his group were among the first. I would of tried but, honestly, he was a prick and our marriage was arranged anyway. The taste of him and the others, the thrashing in my belly was...amazing. Now I just live here, barely able to move without the aid of these cute young men who service me daily. Not that I care, why go back when I'm a Goddess to these people?"

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