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Writing and art commission for  Hippocake!

In this story the twins Vela and Vedour find that the palace chef prepares meals in advance of the morning. This gives them the chance to get up to some midnight stuffings, with delicious consequences. All characters 18+ etc.

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“Come on Vedour, it’s perfectly fine! We’re royalty after all, what’s the worst they can do to us?” Vela’s voice was exacerbated, but quiet as the white furred fox snuck down the winding staircase leading to the palace kitchens.

“Shame is punishment enough..” Vedour mumbled, the twin’s fur shone white as his sister’s in the dimly lit staircase. Still, the wag of his tail indicated as much as anything else that he was just as excited as she was.
“Pffft, there’ll be no shame if nobody catches us!” With their parents absent the palace, the palace guards had grown lax with their patrols, meaning it was the perfect time to get into some food related mischief. The best kind, if you asked Vela. She raced ahead of the pair, paws landing softly on the old wooden stairs as she skipped into the kitchens proper.

The kitchens were dimly lit, as was tradition after most of the servants went to bed. A few oil lanterns hung from the wall, their light flickering lazily over the room while the embers from one of the ovens smoldered out quietly. However neither twin cared much to look at the light, or the other grand implements of the palace kitchen. Both gazes were fixed firmly to a large wooden table in the middle where the chef had prepared for the palace’s breakfast by making a mountainous pile of pastries. It was massive and seemed to contain every one of the chef’s specialties, from chocolate muffins to glistening croissants and everything between. Vela wasted no time, abandoning stealth in her rush to the table she grabbed the first pastry she saw and crammed it into her mouth, barely seeming to chew.

“You’ll get a stomach ache,” Vedour chuckled as he walked up to the table, impressed by the sheer spread before them and a little surprised at his sister’s haste. She responded only with a crumb peppered grin as she snatched up a blueberry danish and shoved it into her mouth.

...

Some time later the pair were making their way back upstairs, Vela having stuffed herself until she couldn’t eat another bite. With every step it felt like her body trembled but in reality Vela knew it was just the jostling of her stomach. She groaned and gripped it with both hands as it jutted out from her, parting her pajama top from its pants. She could easily pass for pregnant with everything she stuffed into her and it felt like she was going to burst. Each step upwards was taken lightly and Vela was suddenly thankful that she wasn’t likely to have to dodge guards at this hour. She didn’t think she could run.

Behind her, Vedour shook his head. “Well I’m glad you got that out of your system.” He had indulged in a few pastries himself, but had largely watched his sister gorge with fascination, thankful that this would be a one time occurrence..

...

The next night a softer Vela stood once again in front of the massive wooden kitchen table in the depths of the palace. All the pastries she had consumed the night before had digested, softening her features, making her cheeks a little puffier and her pajamas a little tighter around her arms and thighs. A newly formed belly pooched and strained against her pajama top, forming two distinct rolls as it did. But while Vedour’s gaze might have wandered with concern over the softer frame of his sister, she had eyes only for what rested atop the table. A massive platter of cupcakes has been made, seeming to incorporate every flavour the palace had available to them as a breakfast treat.
“Now... hang on,” The words had barely escaped Vedour’s mouth before his sister rushed forward once again, her new weight making heavy footfalls on the ground as she rushed the platter and grabbed the first cupcake she could find, stuffing it whole into her mouth and gulping it down. Thankfully the annoying wrappers had all been pulled off beforehand so there was no messing about, the vixen only having to swallow before she reached for the next one.

Icing smeared the vixen’s fingers and crumbs fell across her shirt as she pushed cupcake after cupcake into her mouth, plucking them from the top of the pile (or as near as she could manage) and cramming them in without distinction or care. The flavour was delicious, sure, but she found herself chasing something beyond flavour. A feeling she had felt the night before when she cradled her stomach, feeling so near to bursting. The feeling that she could sense herself stretching, her gut a tortured organ that had to swell to encompass her greed lest it be torn apart. Vela didn’t just want to eat. She wanted to be full. Beyond full. Full to bursting, full to capacity, full beyond any degree of common sense.

Once again Vedour helped himself to a handful of cupcakes, two or three, but for the most part he watched his sister in absolute fascination. Every cupcake, every munch, every gulp seemed to expand her gut a little more. The part in her pajamas grew as the fatty tum she was developing smoothed out to a round and gurgling stuffed stomach. She quickly regained her pregnant look once again but kept eating, kept pushing cupcake after cupcake down, kept swelling. After a while one hand was resigned to permanently rest on her gut, rubbing it gently in an attempt to soothe it. Vedour wasn’t sure whether or not it worked, she looked like she was going to throw up.

“I... I can’t...” After what seemed like hours, Vela turned to her brother, bracing her balloon of a stomach with both hands. It was so stuffed with food it stuck straight out in front of her, fully pushing her pajamas up until they covered only her breasts. “You’ll have to bring me the last few.”

Vedour blinked. There were more than a few cupcakes left, “You mean the last few that you can eat?”
“Yeah!” Vela said, trying to sound haughty while groaning was a challenge she nearly succeeded at. Nearly. “Bring me a few more cupcakes. Then we leave.”

“Then we leave..” Vedour said uncertainly, but he complied. Three more cupcakes later and his twin sister nearly threw up, only managing to cram the last one down and hold her mouth shut before her gut could eject its engorged contents down her front. After that he slowly helped her back to her feet, the pair of them gently cradling her stomach as the slightest movement made his sister groan.

Once more the pair found themselves making their way up the stairs from the dimly lit kitchen to the palace proper, and once more Vela found herself cradling a stomach that had bloated well past the point she could claim pregnancy. It churned and grumbled angrily, packed so completely full of food that she had to take each step slowly lest a lance of pain arc across her stretched hide. Behind her, Vela could feel her brother’s anxiety at the situation, but all she cared about was the sensation she cradled between her paws. The fullness was intoxicating. She had to go back down again, she had to eat more. Just to feel this way again.

“Don’t worry,” Vela whispered back, her voice hushed for the early hours of the morning. “Tomorrow will be the last time.”

It would not in fact be, the last time.

...

Creak.

Vedour winced. Every step seemed treacherous now in a way she hadn’t expected. Certainly it wasn’t the kind of thing she had encountered a few nights ago. But then a few nights ago she had been a trim, slender thing. That could no longer be said for Vela the princess. Her pajamas were now skin tight on a body that was stuffed with fat, every part of her having softened up a little more with every night’s delicious gorging. She recalled, her stomach rumbling in anticipation, the sheer joy she felt as she stuffed herself to capacity every single night since she had found the kitchen loaded with pastries. Every night the chef had made different meals and preparations the size of which seemed to rival small hills. Every time the pair returned the meals seemed to get a little bit larger, and every night Vela would gorge on them until she could hardly breathe and had to be walked back to her room. Her gut was so large now it could no longer be contained to her pajama shirt, instead it hung out in front of her and pushed down her thighs where-ever she went.

Groan.

The vixen winced again, she had lost concentration and allowed her foot to come down a little too hard. Behind her she could practically feel Vedour wince too.

“Are we really doing this again sis? Look at you, you’re practically bursting out of your clothes. People are starting to ask questions. We can’t keep acting like spoiled kids anymore!”

Vela ignored him, clutching her rumbling stomach as she descended. He would follow her, he did every night.

Once again the pair found themselves standing in the dimly lit kitchen, the stone floor cool under their feet, but nothing Vela had crammed into her gut before could have prepared her for tonight. Resting on the table, practically bowing it under its weight was a massive quadruple layer party cake. Pink frosting with white decorations adorned every part of its surface as the giant cake glistened in the half light of the oil lamps. Behind her, Vela could hear her brother gasp - she nearly did herself.

The cake was obviously meant for the party to be held tonight - the one that would herald the return of Vela and Vedour’s parents to the palace, the pair having finished their official business or some such. Vedour instantly recognised its importance, Vela didn’t care. She saw the cake towering above the pair of them and fantasized about containing it inside her. The whole thing, the whole thing within her stomach. The thought of it made her quiver with excitement.

“Vela - don’t you dare! This is too far.” Her brother might as well have read her mind - not that that would have surprised her, their bond as twins had more than a little magic to it.

Once again Vela didn’t bother with words, she turned to her brother with a grin before dashing forward as fast as her fattened frame would carry her and plunging face first into the party cake. Her first bite was a snap of her jaws before impact, grabbing as much of the lower tier of the cake as she could with her mouth before swallowing the doughy mush. Her second came as black furred hands grasped either side of the cake and pushed its sugary mass towards her waiting maw. The cake deformed delightfully under her assault, bulging out towards her as though it wanted to be devoured. Mouthful after mouthful disappeared - it was pre sliced but that appeared to have been unnecessary as the vixen put everything she had into gulping down piece after piece.

Vela ate like this for minutes, no, hours. She pulled everything she could reach towards her, stuffing slice after smooshed slice into her mouth without regard for flavour nor the mess she made on herself or the floor. Once again her brother found himself watching. He wasn’t hungry and even if he had been, he didn’t dare get near the cake with his sister in this state. Granted the worst she could do was snap at him, but for now he was preoccupied by watching his sister... expand. She was like a balloon. The threads of her pajama top popped one by one, falling away from her in swathes of fabric as her stomach bulged bigger and bigger. He wasn’t surprised the garment gave up, she had been gorging like this for days, frankly he was surprised she had still fit into it at the start of the night. But it was still a spectacle to behold. Likewise her pants seemed to be fairing little better, with holes forming in the expensive silken fabrics, making loud rips as she swelled before his eyes.

Finally Vela’s stomach grew so big it pushed her away from the table. She grabbed feebly at the tray the cake sat on but didn’t dare risk toppling the delicious dessert. Instead, gingerly, carefully, Vela lowered herself to the ground, legs parted by her swollen stomach which she clutched tightly as she sat down. It was massive, pushing her thighs apart and swallowing her view of her feet. But it still had room. Vela looked at her brother and in her most commanding voice she said, “Feed me.”

An ounce of defiance rose in Vedour before being quickly squashed as he looked over at what was left of the cake. His sister had easily demolished over two thirds of it and by the size of her there would be no hiding where it went. If he didn’t go along with her he wouldn’t hear the end of it for months. With a sigh he hefted the tray off of the table and rested it gingerly beside her, taking his position to start to feed her the remaining slices. Vela looked pleased with herself before a hiccup escaped her. She felt suddenly startled by the sensation of space that hiccup brought within her, as air released from her gut, that when the feeling of a belch rose within she let it out. That too gave the pleasant sensation that there was more space within her, so as Vedour began feeding her - every slice seeming to add another inch to the vixen’s waistline, she began to belch between slices. Hiccuping, burping, both voluntary and involuntary as her stomach made every effort to make room lest she burst. In between struggling gulps of cake and releasing air Vela rubbed her stomach, moaning at the sheer sensation of fullness. This was it. This was beyond anything she had ever felt before. If ever she was going to burst, it would be tonight.

But of course, she wouldn’t.

Rays of morning light began to pour in through the small slanted windows in the kitchen as the very last slice of cake was brought to Vela. She had somehow done it. She had endured every slice before now, her gut a monumental globe of tightly packed, grumbling, sloshing cake and tortured flesh. Every breath she took was a gasp, half in pain half because there seemed to be little room in her cake stuffed body for her lungs to properly take air. Crumbs spilled down her cheeks and icing caked her fingers but she didn’t care. She was nearly there. There was only one more slice of cake left. She clutched her gut and waited expectantly, looking at her brother.

Vedour in turn, looked concerned. He’d never seen his sister like this. Like a balloon on the verge of popping. He could see the strain on her stomach, the pink of tortured skin as her usually thick coat of white fur became stretched and sparse on that churning, grumbling orb. He looked between the last slice of cake and his expectant sister - she looked like she was trying not to vomit.

“Yeah, no.” He said after a moment, frowning. “I’m not going to feed you this. You’re going to pop!”

“I’ll do it myself!” She snarled, snatching the cake from her brother before raising it to her mouth and pausing. He was right to be cautious. She felt like she was going to pop. Like every ounce of air had been belched out of her and every inch of space within was completely occupied. She imagined she could hear her skin stretching. But she looked over at the empty cake platter and her resolve came back to her. She was this close. Only one more slice.

Slowly, gingerly, Vela pushed the remaining slice into her. There was little chewing, her throat seemed to refuse to cooperate. Instead she shoved it with both paws, half choking, half gulping as the last slice slid finally into her.

GROAN.

Vela flinched. It felt like the loudest noise she had ever heard. Her stomach growled loudly, and she clutched her sides as she felt herself expand a few more inches. She felt like she could feel her skin at her limit, her stomach at its limit. The organ was going to split and she would pop! Vela almost wished she could vomit now, could make room, any room, she had gone too far!

And then there was silence. Silence apart from her heart racing. She didn’t burst. Her skin didn’t split, her stomach hadn’t ruptured. Both her and her brother gave a sigh of relief. But there was something more than relief, Vela felt exhilaration. That enormous cake, its weight so heavy it bowed the wooden table it had sat on, was now inside her. Completely inside her. It was meant to feed an entire party! It took up every ounce, every millimeter she had. And beyond the shallow breathing, beyond the ache and throb of her tortured stomach - Vela was ecstatic, she was victorious.

Vela hadn’t burst, and the relief that washed over the pair lasted as her brother listened to her labored breathing while partaking in gentle stomach rubbing.

Then they heard the footsteps of the morning staff coming down the stairs.

Vedour was fairly sure that this