This choice: A few weeks later, Aphrodite's indulgences are beginning to show... • Go Back...Chapter #4Consequences by: Marluk   The speed with which Aphrodite fell into a habit of overindulgence was almost alarming. Over the course of less than a week, the good habits forged over aeons were undone, replaced by increasingly overblown indulgences. Not caring for discomfort or the inevitable impact on her waistline, she began to drink nectar as though it were water, as well as feasting on ambrosia in increasingly vast amounts. Every morning she'd treat herself with a veritable feast of ambrosia, and every evening she'd eat until she passed out.
The effects of this self-destructive lifestyle quickly became evident. The goddess had never been extremely skinny - she'd always been thoroughly curvy, a very paragon of femininity - but in only a few weeks her body thickened and softened until she was decidedly plump. Her thighs thickened until they brushed together as she trotted hourly to the store cupboard for more snacks; her hips widened, forming a seamless exaggerated curve with her newly chunky hips; her already-round rear swelled even plumper, only remaining so astonishingly pert through some godly enchantment; her breasts became fuller than ever; even her fair limbs thickened slightly, the first hints of flab softening her upper arms.
The worst damaged of all, however, was inevitably her stomach. A thick pad of fat had found its way there, clinging to her midsection and rounding it into a chunky potbelly that quivered subtly as she moved. Her figure, from the moment she emerged from the ocean sea-foam, had always been utterly perfect - now, however, it was glaringly flawed, and that softly sagging potbelly was the most undeniable demonstration of those new flaws.
Despite all of this, however, Aphrodite remained almost entirely oblivious, too lost in her sulking and indulgences to consider her mirror for even a moment. As she spent almost all her time nude, as was her custom, she didn't have any clothes to wrestle with, any buttons to burst - she just got up in the morning, stretched, and returned to the feasting as though she had never even paused. She didn't even bother to tie her hair up anymore - it just hung down loose around her shoulders, scraggly from the weeks of remaining unwashed and uncombed.
It was on one of the many indistinguishable days of feasting and eating that finally Aphrodite found herself interrupted from her indulgent solitude by a tap-tap-rapping on the door. She knew the knock to be that of Ares, her lover, and excitedly she slipped off her bed, wrapped a piece of drapery casually around herself so as to somewhat preserve her modesty, and hurried at once to let him in.
As he stepped inside though and set eyes upon her, his permanent smirk of self-satisfaction quivered. His eyes raked over the soft curves of her body, so much more drastic than he remembered, before eventually settling on her stomach, swollen even more than usual from a morning of incessant feasting.
"What is this?" he asked, a dark scowl crossing his face, "I know I should not expect fidelity from you, but this is an insult nonetheless! I know you sleep not with Hephaestus, so you must bear the child of yet another lover. So be it! If whore you wish to be, then whore I shall leave you!"
"W-wait!" Aphrodite stammered, grasping his arm in dismay as he turned to leave, "What do you mean? I bear no child! You are my only lover, I promise you."
She let the drapery fall to the floor, revealing her body in its entirety. She was used to this earning her any favour from any man, but Ares' scowl just deepened.
"Then you be a glutton!" he exclaimed, lip curling, "You look as a sacrificial heifer, eyes wide and confused as it is led to the altar, unknowing of its fate; its body is swollen from the years of fattening, all for this purpose, yet is ignorant. Such is the appearance which you have adopted."
With this he jerked his arm back, and Aphrodite fell to the floor with a cry. The door slammed as Ares left, leaving her to sob disconsolately on the tiled flooring of her husband's great house.
After only a few minutes of crying pathetically on the floor, Aphrodite's stomach began to rumble. It was used now to being fed nigh-constantly, and the delay in the feeding was causing to complain bitterly. Miserably, Aphrodite complied with its request, and that afternoon and night she glutted herself beyond any gorging she had attempted before. Lying prone on her bed, tears staining the sheets, she consumed jug after jug of nectar, as well as entire cases of ambrosia. Eventually, belly distended and gurgling, the discomfort of her immense consumption finally overwhelmed her and she fell asleep with a jug of nectar still in her hand, dripping its contents onto the already-stained bedclothes.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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