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Old 09-12-2007, 08:09 PM   #1
Forgotten_Futures
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Default The Cursed Queens - Chapters 1-3 - By Forgotten_Futures (~BBW, Sci-Fi, ~~WG)

~BBW, Sci-Fi, ~~WG - A freak accident sends a Dimensional Scout to an unknown world, where societal differences make her stand out all too well.

[Author's Note: You will notice the classification list is rather... short. Fear not, this is only the beginning! Hints are given, background and plots are laid out, and don't worry, the ~XWG tag will get on there before the end. For now, enjoy.]

The Cursed Queens
Chapters 1-3

By Forgotten_Futures

Chapter One

Rachel walked quickly down the cobblestone street, a growing sense of alarm nestled between her small breasts. I'm completely lost, she thought.

Back in her home world – or rather, home reality – Rachel had been part of an experimental “Pathfinder” team, charged with utilizing the newly invented Proto–Gates to search for, explore, and “document” alternate realities for the government back home.

Of course, “document” really meant nothing more than, “assess the worthiness and susceptibility of the reality for conquest.”

There had been two simple factors necessitating these dangerous missions. Humanity continued to grow at an alarming rate, and even the technologies of 2067 Earth were by no means able to cope with such a large population. Hundred–story hydroponic farms yielded more food per square mile of land than ever before, and cryo–sleep centers – essentially racks of oversized coffins, capable of holding a single person and a few possessions – in place of full–sized housing barely took a bite out of the rapidly worsening overcrowding issue. Yet, despite this massive lack of space, humans – unlike most other animals – did not adapt to their environment by dying in droves until the population stabilized once again, but went right on procreating, “And what do you mean you can't feed me and my nine children?”

To date, only two realities had been “taken”, and both of these had been nearly empty, Earths that never bore witness to humanity. Construction and the relocation of material had begun, but it would still be years before they were ready. And so the hunt continued for alternate worlds, Earth or otherwise, where humanity could move in with less effort.

Thus it was that Rachel found herself here. Expertly trained and equipped with an army's worth of high tech gadgetry, but alone. And, as far as she could tell, having no way to get back home.

And at the tender age of 22, she wasn't so sure she could handle spending the rest of her life in such alien conditions.

Again she passed a couple of young women on the street, who moved as far to the side as their rotund frames allowed them to. Staring at her, their looks suggesting she might as well be parading around naked, covered with the blood of fifty innocent children, and an eye from each.

Unsure where that image had come from, Rachel reflected that she did stand out like a sore thumb. More like a perfectly healthy thumb surrounded by bruised, bleeding thumbs swelled up like sausages in the summer heat.

Everywhere she looked she saw fat women. All ages, all heights, there wasn't a female to be seen who wasn't at least chubby. The younger women seemed to be lighter, overall, while anyone near her age or older was at least 300 pounds. Although this made the shorter women fatter than taller ones, she also noticed that a lot of people seemed to average about the same height. Some of the tallest women looked to be 500 pounds or more!

The only people she saw who weren't fat were the men. Yet even they were the same height as most of the women; perhaps a little taller. She still stood a head or two above them, though, and that only made her feel more out of place.

She was snapped out of her introspection by a shout. “You there!” She whirled, looking for the source of the commanding voice, and had just caught sight of a man – taller than the others and clothed in a long, red cape – striding towards her when a hand clamped down on her arm and pulled her, unexpectedly hard, through the door she'd stopped in front of and into what appeared to be the entryway of a home. Confused, she panicked, and tried to force her way back out, but the figure the hand belonged to imposed itself in the doorway, forcing her back and closing the door behind him as he stepped outside.

There was the sound of brief, but intense, arguing, and finally the sound of booted feet stomping off in frustration. After a few seconds, the door opened and the man who had pulled her in stepped back inside.

Despite her training, Rachel was inherently afraid for her life. This man had just proven himself stronger than her, and seemed to wield enough authority to stand up to the man in the cape, whom Rachel chose to assume was some kind of policeman.

Shivering, she backed up until her backside came in contact with a wall. She open her mouth to speak, but the man beat her to it. “Are you crazy?! Do you WANT to spend time in the Royal Jails?” The man looked at her as though she had three heads, although he had to look up to do so.

Rachel flinched back from his words. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know, I couldn't know.” What am I doing? Rule #3: Never admit you're not from their world. “I come–” she coughed, “I came from – from a different land.”

“As I understand it there are no lands Her Majesty does not rule over. Yet you just as clearly have no idea where it is you are, do you?” He took a step closer.

“P–please, s–stay away. I'll be good, I p–promise, just don't hurt me.”

“Hurt you? Lady, I don't know who you are or where you're from, but I assure you, I have no intention of hurting you. If I had, I would've let Mr. Imperial Guardsman back there get his hands on you.”

“You mean you're... not going to rape me?”

“Assuming I knew what that meant,” Rachel choked, “and judging by your reaction, it's something unpleasant. If this 'rape' is the usual result of being yanked off the street by a man where you hail from, I can see why you'd want to come here, regardless of your differences from our society.”

“What... what IS your society?”

The man sighed. “Look, I can tell this is gonna take a bit. Let's get you sat down in the kitchen, you look starved.” Rachel supposed that, compared to all the fat women she'd seen, she must indeed look poorly fed, but he wasn't wrong in assuming she could use something to eat.

“I really can't imp–”

“You're not imposing if I offer it freely. Now come on.” He pushed open a door leading from the entryway, plainly expecting her to follow. She noticed he did not touch her again, and wondered if that was local custom, or if he'd simply picked up on her fright at being touched by a strange man. Seeing no other alternative, she turned and followed him through his home.

They proceeded through a few sparsely decorated rooms until they were in the kitchen. The man surprised her by flicking a switch on the wall, activating what had looked like an old torch in a bracket on one wall. “We're not really as low tech as we look. The monarchy just like to keep things looking “rustic” as much as possible. By the way, I'm Tomas. I'm one of the bakers here in town.”

“Rachel,” she said, as Tomas plunked a fresh–looking loaf of bread, as well as cheeses and meats, in front of her. She hadn't heard him open up a 'fridge, but looked up to see him closing an innocuous panel cut into the wall. “Noiseless refrigeration?”

“Nearly. You do not have this?”

“No. Ours are quiet, yes, but they do make sound.”

Tomas nodded thoughtfully. “So, you want to know about our history?” As he spoke, he began to slice the bread, meats, and cheeses, making a number of sandwiches and setting them on a platter between them.

“Yes. It seems as though I'll be here for... some time, so I might as well.”

Tomas got a far off look in his eyes, the way old people frequently did when they were recalling their past. “Many millenia ago, in a time when our people had yet to discover industry, there existed magic. Not the fancy magic of stage shows, but useful magic, magic that allowed us to live much as though we had the technology we do today... except it was magic!” He chuckled out loud at his little joke.

“Anyhow, back then the lands were not all united under one banner; rather, two kingdoms vied for dominance in our world. One kingdom, our Kingdom, the Kingdom of Maelen, was rich and prosperous, filled with content, productive citizens, proud of their monarchs.

“The other Kingdom, Ereck, however, was a sad, desolate place. Crime was rampant, people went hungry while those in power hoarded to keep themselves well fed. Citizens died frequently of malnourishment while corpulent rulers lazed about on giant pillows, hand fed by slaves who rarely lasted more than a week each, before they too succumbed and died, while their masters only grew fatter.

“One day, the Lord of Ereck, the fattest in the land, called forth his head priest. He had come to the realization that, if Ereck, ruled as it was by obese, lazy goveners and their ilk, was so treacherous, then perhaps the key to gaining control of Maelen was to give their monarchy the same problem. Thus he told his priest, to send someone to an audience with the King and Queen of Maelen, that he might curse them, and their entourage of lesser rulers, that they, too, might become fat and lazy.

“Of course, as with all evil plots, this one failed, though not completely. The curse DID manage to target one individual, and left a permanent stain on her – and her throne.

“The Queen became ravenous, thinking of little but food. She ate almost constantly, and at first it seemed the kingdom really might fall to ruin as its leadership had to deal with this new problem.

“Fortunately for us, it did not. Indeed, the King, enraged at this curse having been placed upon his wife, immediately marshalled the troops of the realm and sent them to lay waste to the Kingdom of Ereck. Within a few years, the entire nation was under the rule of Maelen.”

“This doesn't explain the whole thing with the fat women,” Rachel paused in her eating to say.

“Don't worry, I'm getting there. Now, where was I? Oh yes...

“Once again Maelen prospered, and the lands once ruled by Ereck quickly recovered and became as vibrant and full of life as the lands of Maelen had been all along.

“But the King was troubled. His wife was still fat, and while she hadn't degraded into a lazy pig, she did consume vast amounts of food each day. Worse, however, was his daughter. She seemed to be following in her mother's footsteps, eagerly almost. Nothing the King did put more than a dent in his daughter's growth, and as soon as he relaxed his restraints on her eating habits, she went right back to eating, growing by the day.

“When this trend continued for the next three generations, the Queen – then Her Majesty, Queen Iella – saw fit to declare a new ruling. It was not fitting, she said, for a nation as great as her own to have a queen fatter than her lesser rulers.

“Immediately it was decreed that all female members of the Parliament equal or outdo the queen in mass, having one year to reach this weight. Of course, the queen weighed over 500 pounds, so this was a great undertaking, and many people in the Parliament were replaced when they resigned, unwilling to meet these new terms.

“But, nonetheless, conform they did, and soon Maelen had a government full of exceptionally obese women. This trend lasted another 3 generations, before the members of Parliament, who had now gotten quite used to their new standard of living, decided they should not be the only ones mirroring the queen.

“So it was decreed that ALL women of the realm must meet or exceed the queen in weight, having one year from that day to fulfill the terms of this new edict.

“Understandably, many women refused or were unable to comply with these orders. These women were taken to the castle dungeons, where they were forced to eat until they met the requirements of the decree.”

Rachel's eyes widened to the approximate size of small saucers. Great. Of all the worlds I choose to get stuck in by accident, I have to pick one that makes it illegal to be thin! “But, the rest of the citizens... didn't they stand up against this treatment?”

“Some did. Enough did. So a new law was made. Women would either comply with the decree, or live their entire lives indoors, only to walk the streets during blackest night, and adorned with special garments that gave the impression they were much larger. The garments were reinforced with steel, in order to actually impose a real physical burden on the wearer. This, in combination with having to stay indoors at all other times, was sufficient incentive for most to gain the weight anyway. Any foolish enough to break the rules were hauled off to the dungeons to be fattened forcibly.

“This continued for another handful of generations, and still our nation prospered. We made technological advancements that kept food production well ahead of consumption, even with half the population consuming more than 80% of the food.”

“Sounds like my land could stand to take notes from yours.”

“I suspect this is likely. I also suspect, from your attire and armaments, that such a thing was intended. Though not in peaceful trade.” Rachel sat bolt upright, deer–in–the–headlights look plastered on her face. Her stomach grumbled, and she only now became consciously aware that Tomas had eaten none of the sandwiches.

“Rachel – if that is, in fact, your real name – I would like very much to believe you are lost here. That, contrary to the way things look, you are not some kind of advance scout sent to determine our strengths, weaknesses, and what we may possess that would make us worth taking over.”

Rachel wanted to bolt for the door, to run away, even to give herself up to the man in the red cloak. Being fattened, to any weight, had to be better than potential death. She wanted to cry as Tomas' – if in fact that was his real name – eyes bored into her, but she found herself unable to shed so much as a single tear.

“While there is nothing you can do, now, to make me trust you, that can change, given time. If, after a couple weeks have passed, there is no further contact from your people, my trust in you will begin to grow. Until then, however, I am afraid I must treat you as a threat to myself, and to my society.”

He stepped around the table and effortlessly heaved her up onto one shoulder. Please don't hurt me please please please don't hurt me. A little voice went on inside her head repeatedly, about the only part of her body she seemed to have any control over at this point.

Tomas pushed open another hidden panel in the wall, revealing a small but comfortably furnished room. Laying her down on the bed, he left shortly, to return with three lengths of rope – two short and one long. Taking her clothes off with practiced ease, her fear of being raped returned. It was not as though she had never had sex before, although she'd been unlucky enough to have unwilling as well as consensual encounters. It was the unwilling ones she'd never liked, and here she wasn't even able to try and fend him off.

But the touches never came. Nor did he strip in preparation to insert himself within her limp body. Instead, he gently, but firmly, tied her hands together at the wrists, perhaps two feet of thin but strong-looking cord hanging limply between her equally limp arms.

Again he left the room, and returned with a couple scraps of plain white cloth. With the first one, he raised her arms and slid the cloth down over her body, letting it come to rest over her breasts as a crude tube-top, careful to touch her as little as possible. For the second he held her torso between his knees and pulled a pair of panties up her legs, once again keeping his fingers from making contact as much as he could.

Finally, he tied her ankles together with a rope about as long as the one binding her wrists, and lastly tied the long string to a metal hook in the floor at the far corner of the room.

Sitting behind her, he cupped her chin in his hands and gently moved her head about the room, pointing out the various important properties, apparently having planned this well enough to know she could comprehend sight and sounds.

“That switch on the wall over near the door controls the lights. I'll turn them off when I leave so you can sleep the off the effects of the neurotoxin. That little opening you see is the bathroom. Full plumbing, all the amenities. I will bring you food at mealtimes. I suggest you eat all of it – if your story holds true, you'll still be subjected to our laws, and while some women do spend their lives as shut-ins, I don't expect an outsider like yourself to be able to cope with this.

“Door out opens from the outside only, so don't even try to force your way out. In the event you do manage to force the door open, you won't get far. No eating utensil I'll ever give you could cut that rope, and while I'm not going to perform a cavity search, I find it unlikely you have any weapons hidden up your vagina.” She didn't, but of course there was no way to tell him that, and he'd never believe her unless she never cut the rope.

She didn't know why it was so important to her for to have his trust. She figured it had to be an emotional response to her captivity. But that in no way lessened the fact that she did want him to trust her, really trust her, like no one at home ever had.

She felt herself being lowered back onto the bed, then Tomas' hand slipped away from her jaw. She felt compelled to cry out, to beg him to stay – but why? “Sleep well. Hopefully, in a few short weeks, you can come out of there. I'm sorry to have to do this, but I'll at least try to make your stay more comfortable than the Cellars.”

With that, he flicked off the lights, stepped back out into the hallway – and the door slammed shut, locking Rachel in, shutting her off from the world. Unable to move, she lay, restlessly, until finally sleep claimed her.

Story continued in post 3 of this thread
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Old 09-13-2007, 04:41 PM   #2
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awesome start - looking forward to more
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Old 09-13-2007, 11:49 PM   #3
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[Author's note: What's this? A second chapter in only one more day? FF must be on something... [/satire]

The soup thickens! Or was that the plot? Whatever. Chapter 2 of The Cursed Queens. (Okay, NOW [/satire])]



Chapter Two

[POV: Tomas]

Tomas sighed and leaned back against the hidden doorway. All the anticipation in the world couldn't make up for the sudden weariness he felt at having to be the one stuck dealing with it.

The Kingdom of Maelen had been going out of their way for years to keep away from this alternate world and their Earth. Oh, far be it from those Earthlings to be the first to develop inter-dimensional transit, and even more unlikely that they could be trusted to be gentle about it.

And now a heavily armed, strangely dressed woman just happened to show up in his town. If she wasn't an advance scout, he'd gladly submit himself for inquisition. But the most curious thing in his mind was her... obedience.

Think about it. Heavily armed female theoretically having the kind of backup every secret agent ever wanted, and she cowers from him like he's going to hurt her. Like she can't hurt him. Like killing him might actually make problems for her.

Maybe she was lost. That was something to think about, all right.

Sighing, Tomas moved deeper into the dwelling, past the ornate, medieval front rooms where guests were entertained, the rooms every house kept in the old style as mandated by the kingdom's rulers, who for some ungodly reason seemed to think it was a good thing to look like they drank their mead warm, if they even knew what mead was.

Pushing open yet another hidden door, he stepped from one world into a completely different one. Gone were the wooden walls, thatched roofs, rustic appearance. Everything was gleaming steel, semi-transparent monitors arrayed, seemingly at random, around the room, terminal inputs in front of them having the complexity of something a professional organist might become intimidated by.

He sat down in front of one such setup and began his report.

----------------------------------------------------------

A few hours later, an officious-looking man in a white and gray suit knocked gently on the door. Admitting him, Tomas injected a mild sedative into the air in Rachel's prison, inoculating himself and the official with a counter-agent.

After waiting a few minutes to be certain Rachel would be unresponsive, the two men silently entered the room. The second pulled a palm-sized scanning unit from a pocket and ran it over Rachel's prone form. “Her life signs are all normal, though I've never so much as laid eyes on a woman so... thin.” He spoke the last word with a tone of disgust. “Savages, these humans.”

“Actually, as our own scouts report, their world is horribly overcrowded and extremely low on food.”

“Making us an excellent conquest.”

“The thought had occurred to me as well. Yet she claims she is lost.”

“A likely excuse. Kill-”

“I... told her we'd wait. If no more of her people came through to our world-”

“Impossible. She can't live here! She's a complete alien.”

“Actually, initial scans of her physiology indicate our peoples may have a link somewhere far back in the time stream.”

“Damn it. What would you even keep her for? If you want a pet you could just as easily take one of our own females.”

“She's young. And... “

“Tell me you do not love this... this creature.”

“I don't know. I barely know her. But I'd like to.”

“Damn you to hell. If this goes badly, I can personally guarantee you a job transfer to OUR scout forces.”

“I assure you, sir, I thought of that already. I'm willing to take the risk.”

“I hope you know what you are doing.” The man pocketed his scanner and stepped back to the doorway. “Fine. You have permission to attempt to assimilate this young woman into our society. If you succeed... well, we just may have to take over them before they come for us, so, we might as well try and get a liaison while we can.”

“You will force her into nothing... but I'll keep it in mind.”

After the official had left, Tomas returned to the front of his house. Random trans-dimensional guests don't absolve a worker from his craft...

[POV: Rachel]

Rachel woke up feeling groggy, but decided groggy was okay, so long as she could move her arms, which she immediately did, stretching the kinks out of sore muscles.

While the sandwiches may have been drugged, they were still food, and her stomach had done its job such that she found herself needing to make use of the little room riding shotgun with her new “bedroom”. She was startled by just how “full” the amenities were.

Sink, toilet (flush!), shower... she turned the shower on and nearly squealed at the pressurized flow of water. Sticking her hand in the stream, she swore if she could orgasm off anything that wasn't sex, a hot water shower would definitely do it for her.

Despite the realization that there was no way to strip, given the bonds on her ankles, Rachel nonetheless stepped in and took the longest, best shower she'd ever had, briefly forgetting her need to go to the bathroom, which apparently intensified with her wakefulness and the sound of running water.

She toweled off, intrigued that the fabric of her makeshift clothing didn't try to retain all that much water. Relieving herself, she stepped back out to the main room to find Tomas waiting for her with a steaming tray of breakfast foods.

“I see I picked a good place to get locked up. I could've ended up with the local smith, and maybe I'd get steel ingots for my first meal.”

“You seem rather jovial for a woman locked inside such a small room.”

She sat down next to him, her state of dress causing her no embarrassment. Having spent casual moments with guys whilst completely naked in her past, any garments were as good as no garments. And oddly, she trusted Tomas not to do anything inappropriate to her.

“You go your entire life with cold showers and porta-potties everywhere you go and then tell me a hot shower doesn't make you want to die right there, feeling better then you ever have up to that moment. God, that was possibly BETTER than sex.”

“Either you've had some bad sex, or I'm just too used to it to notice.” She gave him an odd look. “The shower.” She giggled and took a bite of something on a plate from the tray he'd brought in with him.

The texture was like nothing from back home, but not in a bad way. Genetic engineering and concentrated growth systems had taken the comfort out of food. Not that “comfort food” was all that common any more. If it wasn't absolutely essential, the land was better used growing something else. The Romans had probably eaten more varied meals than today's humans.

This was tenderness like a newborn baby's skin, and- “Is this real cane sugar?”

Tomas looked surprised at her question. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

Any response was drowned out by her lusty moan. She'd been wrong: if the shower was orgasmic, the food was enough to short circuit her brain in one massive, gore-spattered flux of sexual fury.

Not many minutes later, as Rachel was literally licking the plates clean, Tomas finally found his voice again. “So... I take it you don't get food like that often?”

“Christ, are you kidding me?! If you brought cooking like that to Earth, you'd have people killing each other to get their hands on more. This-” Her breath caught in her throat. EARTH.

Tomas sensed her panic. “Don't worry, I already know.”

“You already...,” Her expression went from panicked to downright horrified, and for the first time she actually became violent, going straight for his throat. “Don't you dare hurt them, not a one, I will KILL you-” Her threats were cut off suddenly when Tomas slammed her up against a wall, one arm across her throat, the second holding a very sharp knife to her chest.

“I do not want to hurt you, Rachel, but if you force me to, I will. We have no intention of hurting your people. We would rather avoid them entirely. Now, if I let you go, will you promise to behave yourself?” Rachel nodded weakly, and he backed off.

She waited for him to get far enough away, then sagged onto the bed. All the joy that she'd been radiating before had vanished once again, this time replaced with a cold, quiet melancholy that threatened to consume all the light and heat in the room.

“I know you, and your people, like to think you're so very sophisticated, but we've been jumping around for a long while now. You think you were the first to consider using uninhabited worlds for expansion? The Kingdom of Maelen currently spans ten entire WORLDS. Worlds, Rachel. How many does humanity hold? Three?”

Rachel's shoulders shook, and when she looked up, her eyes were red, her face streaked with tears. “Does that mean you could... could send me home?”

It broke Tomas' heart, to hear her ask that question, the last question he wanted to answer. He'd rather tell her the meal she'd just eaten was laced with a deadly viral agent than answer that question. That the meal hadn't been laced with anything didn't matter to him. “No.”

“W-why not. It's not like I'd-”

“I know you wouldn't sell us out. Not intentionally. But your people sent you here, either by accident or on purpose, and if you come back, they're going to want to know where you went, what was there, and they won't accept silence for an answer. Rachel, I can honestly tell you - because we know things here about your government that you couldn't possibly be aware of – Rachel, you'd much rather be raped by every man in the Kingdom, one after the other, absolutely no rest in between, than face your people with anything other than all the answers to all their questions.”

How the hell do I know she wouldn't rat on us? Is that just what I want to think? One of the guys once said something about projecting ideal values on people you like, whether or not those values are real to the person...

Rachel looked up into his eyes again. Her own eyes were pools of emotion, bottomless pools that could trap him if he looked too long, but she broke her own spell by speaking. “I know.” She pulled her legs up close to her and wrapped her arms around them as best she could with her bindings, and favored him with a wry smile. “Your people would do the same, the other way around.”

“Much though I'd like to believe we have more integrity than that, I know the foolishness of believing any kind of integrity can exist where members of government are involved.”

Rachel grinned, and he took his first real look at her. Her hair was long for someone in a militant group – probably to try and help her stand out less among other human civilizations. She had fair skin, unblemished by the classic hallmarks of a woman so obsessed with looking good she overdid it and achieved the opposite.

She was tall, especially so by his people's standards, and lanky, with a large frame that looked somewhat out of place on her. She was thin, and this made it that much easier to see the hard, toned muscles beneath her skin. He suspected she was still feeling some effects of either the neurotoxin or the sedative; any other circumstances and she'd have ripped him to pieces just minutes before. She held herself well – even tear streaked as she was and dressed like a poor man's concubine, she looked neither dirty or sleazy. She had a sort of girl-next-door beauty, yet shone with an inner light, a solar flare trapped forever in the shell of a girl sitting on this bed before him.

“I need to get to work. Is there anything I can bring you?”

“If I could, I'd like to read up on your history some. Your tale yesterday was a good start, but... well, if I'm going to be living here, I need to know a bit more than 'some' about my new home.”

“Certainly.” And, fetching a book, he left with the tray, the thudding of the door somehow seeming a little less final than it had the day before. Stretched out on the bed, idly stroking her exposed middle, Rachel immersed herself in the histories of the Kingdom of Maelen, and wondered how quickly two weeks would pass.

Story continued in post 9 of this thread
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Old 09-14-2007, 05:50 AM   #4
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Very good start. Just my kind of story, and there's plenty of back story that can be developed from here as well.
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Old 09-14-2007, 11:25 AM   #5
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If you like the base concept of alternate timeline travel/exploitation, look for Harry Turtledove's Crosstime Traffic series. I think it's currently 4 books, and I've read the first 2. Truly the best approach to time travel ever.
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Old 09-14-2007, 12:57 PM   #6
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Risible keeps pushing the rep limit!Risible keeps pushing the rep limit!Risible keeps pushing the rep limit!Risible keeps pushing the rep limit!Risible keeps pushing the rep limit!Risible keeps pushing the rep limit!Risible keeps pushing the rep limit!Risible keeps pushing the rep limit!Risible keeps pushing the rep limit!Risible keeps pushing the rep limit!Risible keeps pushing the rep limit!
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I enjoy the sci fi genre, and I'm really enjoying your story, FF, as I edit. I hope there's lots more!
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Old 09-14-2007, 02:57 PM   #7
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Great story so far. I really like the combination of sci-fi and weight gain. I can't wait to read more.
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Old 09-15-2007, 12:14 AM   #8
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Heh.... there hasn't even been any present WG yet... well, not of the main character. It's fairly safe to assume that MANY women throughout the Kingdom of Maelen are, every second this story takes place, gaining weight.

Ten worlds.... that's a lot of women =P

Oh, and the implication of Rachel following suit.... accurate? Quite.
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Old 09-16-2007, 04:14 PM   #9
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Default The Cursed Queens - Chapter 3 - by Forgotten_Futures {~BBW, Sci-fi, Eating, ~SWG}

Two weeks pass, and no more intrusions. Rachel learns more about her new world, herself, and Tomas.

[Author's Notes: The tag sees ~SWG now, because it's starting =P. Also, I ran out of room in the tag line, so removed Captivity to put in ~SWG. Please forgive me, the Captivity part would have made me need to post chapter 4 in a 3rd thread anyway, and I like 2-pers. Look for chapter 4, say, middle of this week. -FF]

Chapter 3

[POV: Rachel]

It turned out that two weeks could pass rather quickly and rather slowly, both at the same time. Since Rachel frequently had little to occupy her in the day to day, hours seemed to drag on almost forever. But in the grand scheme of things, such simplicity combined with long periods of sleep went by in something akin to an eyeblink; the intervening time was so non-constructive that, in memory, it might as well have not existed.

Rachel was oddly content with her life being reduced to sleeping, eating, bathing, excreting, reading, and laying around contemplating whatever. Granted, there was a lot to think about.

I may never see Earth again. Rachel was torn on this one. She had family back home, if you could call them that. She'd grown up mostly on her own, fending for herself with an alcoholic father and a mother who was lucid maybe half her waking day. Maybe. No relatives she kept in any real contact with. All in all, it was something of a miracle she'd turned out as normal as she had.

Friends, however, were a slightly different matter. Having largely relied on people outside her family for support growing up, her friends meant the world to her. But that world is lost to me now. The only person I have here is Tomas, and I'm not really sure how much I have him. She was completely alone for the first time in her life, unable to relate to anyone.

At one point during the week, when Tomas stopped in to bring her a meal, she'd looked up into his eyes and said, “Tomas, I just want to thank you. For all you're doing for me, such as it is.”

“Thank me? For tying you up?”

“Well, not really. I mean, for taking me in, giving me a chance to get acculturated here, instead of letting your authority figures have their way with me.”

“Oh. Well, uhh, you're welcome,” he had replied, nervous tension ringing in his tone of voice. Then he'd left almost immediately. The tension had remained for a few more meals, but finally had seemed to fade a couple days later.

Rachel couldn't figure Tomas out. On the one hand, it felt like he was vesting much more into this than someone “scoping out the enemy.” Yet at the same time he remained strangely distant, as though he didn't want to get attached... or perhaps there was something missing.

She fingered her middle, where lately a soft ring of fleshiness had begun to form. It was not the only weight she'd gained, she knew, as she felt her fingers sinking in just a little bit all over when she showered. The feeling was distinctly alien to her, though neither pleasant nor unpleasant. Put simply, being overweight was an experience Rachel had never had. Never could have, until now; obesity didn't have a lick of chance at causing medical problems for common citizens on Earth anymore. Only the obscenely rich could afford enough food to get or stay fat, and now, more than ever, fatness signified a kind of malevolent greed perhaps challenged only by Smeagol in Tolkien's classic.

It was perhaps this innate newness that prevented Rachel from being in any way put off by her physical changes. Aside from distinct moments spent attempting to seduce one man or another - usually for naught but coercive purposes – Rachel had little use for looking good. It was a necessity, if that, in modern society, not a compulsion she herself felt a need to fulfill. Here, she felt it even less, a combined result of her solitary imprisonment, and the fact she honestly did not know exactly what was supposed to constitute beauty here, aside from the fact it likely involved a great deal of fat. Seeing as she was thin, there wasn't much point in trying to conform to a standard she had no chance of emulating.

[POV: Tomas]

For Tomas, the two weeks of holding Rachel a (apparently willing) captive were nothing new. She could hardly have known, of course, but encounters with beings of various humanoid evolvements happened with some degree of regularity. And why shouldn't they?

Near the end of the two week period, Rachel asked him about time streams and cross-time travel, since he, Tomas, had mentioned his people having done it for much longer than her people.

“Well Rachel, Time, as people see it, is a continuous flow of events. We know time exists because we remember something happening before – we can look back through time, although we cannot move in that direction. However, we can't move or look forwards in the time stream, because it hasn't happened yet.

“What a cabal of brilliant scientific minds found millenia ago was that time is not limited to one stream. Time is made up of an infinite mass of time streams best visualized like a tree. At the very center, where time began - if it can be said to have ever had a beginning - is the trunk of the tree. Every infinitesimally small period of time that is long enough for a living thing to do something, however minor – it could be as small as a muscle twitch – time branches. We'll call this an 'event frame.'

“An infinite number of branches, each one following a path that could have happened, is generated. The path that becomes the time stream of which a given living thing is conscious is determined by the actions of all other living creatures within his/her/its time stream.

“While this is a lot to wrap one's mind around, the end result is that, at any given moment, millions, billions, an absolutely infinite number of alternate time streams exist simultaneously, in which all manner of things may be happening that can have as much or as little relation to the events you are conscious of, depending entirely on when that branch was formed.

“Thus, time is more correctly defined as the progression of a given number of event frames as observed by the living thing experiencing these events.

“Real mind bender, huh?

“What THIS boils down to, is simply that a lot of different versions of Earth exist, with an equally large amount of life and death on them. Some Earths, like ours, never separated from what Earthlings of your stream call 'Pangea'. This caused war to be even more frequent in our world in its infancy than yours, causing our technological advancements to come at a faster rate.

“Many Earths have no human population. Some of those never did; on others, humanity was killed off by something before we got there. We've never sought to use any human-inhabited Earths for expansion. And if you think we're the most advanced form of humanity to encounter, forget that thought right now. There are versions of humanity that make us look like drooling toddlers. Why else do you think it took “God” so long to first contact you?”

“Are you serious? God is human?”

“In a sense. The humans that became God evolved in a stream where man vs. nature took on a completely different sort of meaning. They were forced to evolve so quickly they almost blew themselves up. A handful of humans survived and lived among the stars, continuing to make technological advancements at an astounding rate. These days, they are practically incorporeal, flitting through the streams easily, a constant breeze through the Tree of Time; content to watch, observe, and, every now and then, lend a bit of 'heavenly aid'.”

Rachel had sat back in silence, lost in thought and her meal, and he had taken the opportunity to leave her to gnaw on that bone. The mere idea of a humanity that could send people through time without realizing the true implications of it was frightening.

[POV: Rachel]

Rachel was beyond stunned by Tomas' diatribe. The thought of God being a (much) fluffier human was actually a little funny, but the whole idea of countless variants of humans running around in a big Tree all but blew her mind. She'd spent the rest of the day laying on her bed, thinking about it all. I'm not just one girl lost in Maelen, I'm lost in Time itself.

She looked down the length of her body, taking a quick stock of her slowly changing figure. Her breasts had grown a bit – not much, but they looked a little fuller in the makeshift top. She could see a definitive buildup of flesh at the waistband of the panties, and her legs looked a bit less defined. Her tummy stood out the most, nice and slightly distended, but she knew this was mostly because she'd just eaten.

She hadn't noticed it, at least consciously, but Tomas had been increasing the portions of her meals every day, starting a week into her captivity. That she didn't feel any fuller each meal meant her stomach was accommodating nicely to the increased intake, and her body was making good use of the extra calories to soften her up.

Likewise, she'd yet to notice the way Tomas looked at her as she began to gain. She was still horridly thin compared to Kingdom standards; the last Queen had set the mandatory weight at a nice, luxurious 346 pounds when she weighed in on the morning of her eighteenth birthday. She had to admit to herself, as she got more acclimated with Tomas' delicious cooking, especially his pastries, she might not mind eating a lot all the time, weight gain or no.

[POV: Rachel]

Finally, the two-week mark came, and when Tomas brought the morning's meal in, he summarily untied all her restraints and deposited her cleaned clothing - the outfit she'd come in with, the only thing to her name in this foreign land – on the foot of the bed.

The very first thing she'd done, after making sure the breakfast tray was safely out of the way, was to plant a foot in Tomas' sternum and PUSH, sending the man flying backwards into the hallway, there to encounter the wall. She made no move to follow up, though, instead placing the tray across her lap and digging in to breakfast.

For his part, Tomas charged back in to the room, enraged, ready to try and stop Rachel from killing him if need be – and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw, instead of a tense, ready to fight Rachel, a Rachel seated on the bed, mouth full of pancake.

“What was that for?!”

She looked up at him, her face a picture of innocence. “Whatever are you talking about? I've just been sitting here, enjoying my food, and you come charging in here like I've done something wrong. Do you not want me to eat?”

“No, err, I mean, yes, I-” he took a moment to compose himself. “Yes, of course I want you to eat. I was referring to the attack.”

“Oh, that. Well, I couldn't just let you get away with tying a girl down completely unharmed, now could I?” Her look changed to one of restrained violence, prompting him to worry again – until she laughed and took another bite.

“Well... well still, weren't you afraid I'd hurt you?”

“Come now, Tomas. I may not be in the shape I was two weeks ago, but if I can launch you into a wall with one leg, you don't really pose much threat to me.” She picked up the length of rope that had bound her wrists. “Besides, if things had gone badly enough that I needed help to kill you, this would make a good enough garotte.” She resumed her eating for a moment. “But either way, the main reason I wouldn't actually attack you is because, sure, I might get away with killing you, but someone else would kill me for it. And frankly, I'd rather live here than not at all. You've been good to me, these past weeks, and while I don't like to do it, I have to ask if... if you'll let me continue to stay with you.”

“Of course Rachel, I would never just kick you out. I-”

“I'll help out. Around the house, I mean. Maybe I could learn to bake. Be your apprentice.” The look she favored him with was a mix of emotions. Gratefulness, sadness, anger, longing, joy... nothing to signify that her request was anything more than a painful admission that she needed help here. Let him think it was more if he wanted; some day, it might well be. But that day could wait. For now, Rachel was happy enough being free again.

She took another bite of the rich bready thing Tomas called a pancake, wondering what her friends on her Earth would make of Tomas' cooking, and glad at least for having that much. Yes, she would miss her home, but most of those feelings would wane in time. The Kingdom of Maelen seemed to her a much better place to live anyway.

(Click here for next installment)
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Old 09-16-2007, 11:19 PM   #10
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Awesome. That's a really interesting concept of time. I especially liked the idea that God is actually and incredibly advanced human race. Also, I can't wait to read the next installation to see how Rachel's weight gain goes.
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Old 09-17-2007, 02:11 AM   #11
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Do I actually believe that's the rationale behind God? No. I just came up with that in the process of that diatribe. But it is a nice idea.
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