Most people take their time over getting dressed. Some go as far as to view it as the single most important event of your day. After all, what you wear can affect how every encounter of the day goes. People believe in power dressing, dressing to impress, seduce, empower, support, conceal and edify.
Lillian did all of those with one outfit on a daily basis.
But then again, Lillian wasn't what you'd call... people.
She stood in front of the reflective pool, water laying in an impossible vertical confluence of tiny tributaries flowing up from the floor to form a shallow pool embedded into the wall. She admired her figure in it's mirror surface. Her long flowing black hair, her pearly white teeth, her almond shaped eyes, long lashes and heavy lids. She marveled in turn at each breast, full, round, achingly pert, nipples attentive in the naked glow of her body. The curve of her thighs, the spice of her lips, the delicacy of each carefully filed black nail.
The milky whiteness of her blank eyes
The crimson tone of her skin
The immense bloated fecund swell of her stomach.
Lillian ran a hand over it's inviting swell, hanging low and deliciously round between her hips, she smiled at it's fullness and thanked its very presence for all she had attained, and all she had yet to accomplish. It's massive curve a celebration of her achievement, it's distortion and gurgling cry a adulation of her plan's near fruition.
Not long ago, Lillian had been little more than a lowly succubus, a fiend spawned of the carnal lusts men keep hidden deep within the core of their beings, locked away from even their own understanding. She hunted them at night, while they slept, and she made every debauched urge shudder through them with unspeakable passion. She burnt fire in men's veins, rode high on moonless nights and a thousand lovers, let them sink into the warm embrace of her debased womanhood and when they had had almost as much as they could stand, she offered them more than they could even dream of. And then she took them, forever and a day.
She was fattened beyond belief, her stomach large enough to blot out suns, immense, swollen, distended, gravid flesh hanging before her, tender to the eager touch, charged with triumphant emotions her womb stretched out to inhuman proportions. She smiled wickedly at the very thought of it, tingling pleasure in her loins.
She was lust, she knew nothing but the purity and filth of the act, but she always dreamed of having more. Of ascending the charcoal spires that jutted vainly from the fiery pit, of knowing the dizzying heights of success.
Vanity and pride had become her.
She had set out to ensnare the highest echelons, to turn her gaze from those who walked with heads turned down in fear of those above to those who schemed to make them fear those below them. She found a hole, a tiny niece, and she squeezed herself in.
She performed acts that could cause grown men to claw out their own eyes and rip out their tongues by the root lest they repeat the horror of what they saw. She scoured the minds of the most wicked of men to find what made them tick, and in a sense she gave them a tock. She rose to prominence quickly, and in doing so, set in motion her plan.
She would carry the spawn.
It is a fact amongst beings who live beyond perception and knowledge that the human mind is a fickle thing. If it can be caused to believe in something, it can exist. And if it ceases to believe in something, likewise it ceases to be. The spawn is a way to avoid the unnecessary complication of being called back from the nothing by allowing the essence of the intended being to be reverted to a form of spiritual potential, a void into which nightmares can take shape and be reborn in new guises and new forms, with all of their unholy power and malice still intact.
And boy, Lillian had bagged herself the real deal.
A Prince of Darkness
Not the, but A.
Still, it was no mean achievement. But what she had done with this, was no mean achievement in itself.
Harnessing the belief of a previously untapped tribe of isolated villagers buried deep in primordial jungle, she had woven spells around herself and her womb that not only prevented her charge from developing to maturity, but even paused the process altogether.
She had found a way to carry the spawn indefinitely. And with it, she could bargain her way to anything she wanted.
As is tradition, the life of the spawn bearer is a short one. Typically, the containing host is unable to withstand the violent rage and hatred that emanate from the millennial being gestating within them, and within a few scant weeks they birth them, often times resulting in the passing of the host. Such is their fate, but by way of recompense they assume the title and power of the being they gestate while they
are gestating, partly as reward and partly to grant them enough power to withstand the unholy power growing within their wombs.
Lillian was a few steps off the top of the ladder, and had just about everything.
But she still wanted more.
Quickly she dressed. This did not take long. Each of her swollen breasts was harnessed into a tight fitting black leather brassiere, adornments of the traditions of their custom a formality expressed by a plethora of skulls, bones, spikes and chains that dangled from it. It struggled to contain the swell of her bosom, her abdomen not the only thing that had grown by degrees. She slipped daintily into a tiny black thong, barely enough to cover her womanhood, which a high ranking demon such as herself could never be seen to expose to the low orders. It slid luxuriously over her thighs, muscular and toned to an exquisite polish, before coming to rest between them, the arms curving upward over her shapely hips before disappearing into the chasm of her pert and irresistible buttocks. It cradled her fecund swell pleasingly, leaving little to the imagination, but revealing nothing to the observer.
She placed her hands on her maternal womb, feeling a distinct sloshing sound as the fluid within swirled and shifted inside of her stomach. She giggled to herself, running appreciative hands over the surface of her vast gut, seeing its flawless slope curve into her insignificant navel , before tucking back under sharply to meet her pelvis in a head on rush of sensuality. She smiled, adjusted the heft of her breasts, and turned to leave. The council wished to see her.
The council chamber was.. well it was. Words fail the architecture of the pit, the row upon row of galleried seating curving upwards at a dramatic angle, up and up and ever up, beyond sight and perception it rose, the hideous melding of stone, flesh, bone and deep, unending, enduring sadness that made up the structure, older almost than time itself, constructed from the bodies of those who cast the first stone it stood colossal and chattering with activity. Row upon row of the council, thousands, millions, uncountable, uniform, suddenly silent.
Their faces stared down at her. Elaborate masks of charred bone hid their faces behind blackened obscurity, eye holes of varying number giving way only to hollow sockets devoid of eye to see, but sense to judge prevailing. They watched, their heads turning with a brutal click to focus every face upon her as she stood before them.
Hands at her hips, she stood proud before them, not fearing what they had to say. Stomach swollen for all to see, she had reason to know they could inflict no punishment on her while she still nursed the heaving spawn within her.
The voice echoed from the chamber itself. It was one voice, clear, menacingly precise, but issued forth from the multitudinous mouths of those who made up the council. Every mouth swung open to reveal where the tongue held no root, where no lips parted of tonsils quaked to the tone and timbre of the address. The mouths, empty. The voice, everywhere.
"You are still here, we see..."
She smiled, genuine mirth shining through her cold white stare. Her hands slid round to embrace the immensity of the crimson orb the hung in front of her so needily
"It seems I am, he who lives through me seems unwilling to leave my womb... perhaps he finds in preferential to have me talk to you in his stead?"
She couldn't resist undermining the council. Someday she would do away with them when all of this was hers, and set her throne in the empty silent chamber, empty except a few skilled attendants to massage her every over bloated whim. Yes, those attendants were in short supply, but she would have to call for one later to help release the tension in the muscles that helped support the gravid blimp of her brood.
"Silence. We know..."
A chill of chatter passed through the chamber. A dark hush descended as Lillian extended one solitary eyebrow, perfectly shaped of course.
"And what exactly, if you would care to enlighten me, do you know? If anything."
"You have deceived us, and your impudence has been noted. We know of the tribe you have enslaved. We know everything. We know of the bloody sacrifices they hold nightly in your name, we know the horrific and carnal pleasures you have promised them, and we know where the power has been siphoned off to. We know everything. We know the spells you have been using to prolong the gestation of his dark majesty, we know everything. We know the plans you laid to accomplish this. Again, we know everything.
And we know what you plan to do, and how you are to be punished. We. Know. Everything..."
The hush was deafening. Lillian reeled from the blow, but her cocky assurance returned equally as fast.
"Then you do of course know that I have all I need already stored up to make this enchantment last indefinitely. You know that all I need is my own willpower to make this succeed, and so you must of course know, there is absolutely nothing you can do to prevent this. You know everything, right?"
She smirked, rolling her hips to accentuate the gargantuan rotundness of her midriff, its smooth, spherical flanks guarded maternally by her hands, delicately caressing it's barely imaginable dimensions.
"We have thought of a punishment, we believe it to be... cruel and unusual."
There was a cracking as if of thunder, and a long rectangle of light spilled into the chamber. In rolled a gigantic cart of iron, black from the forges deep below them where the fires burnt the hottest, deep in the bowels of hell. On it, an immense crucible, towering over Lillian. Smoke billowed from the surface of it.
"You must drink, Lillian, you must drink the fire..."
Lillian swallowed nervously, but approached the immense dark shape. Whatever was within burned with an unnatural light. She stood her ground, legs apart, hands braced on her gut, and she opened her mouth. She put her lips to a tiny spigot at the base of the monolith, and turned the tap with trembling anticipation.
"All of it..."
The very life blood of the earth gushed forth from the black canister, filling her mouth and burning her insides. She focused, her powers were great, and this was not enough to harm her.
She drank, not feeling the heat of the liquid, the molten rock coursing down her throat, sliding down into her digestive tract. Her stomach growled hate as the fiery substance splashed inside in a raging torrent, quickly filling her.
She felt her stomach begin to stretch. Slowly, slowly at first, she was becoming saturated with the liquid as more and more erupted from the tank and made it's way inside her. She pressed her hands firmly into the unyielding sides of her ballooning flanks, feeling another liquid sensation deep inside the troubled sphere.
Her skin creaked with the pressure. Enough to crush ships like matchwood, enough to crumple steel and ruin stone, the pressure grew and grew.
She realized she would burst long before it was empty.
She focused her powers more. She felt the spark deep within her as she shifted the fluid within her belly, squeezing it in on itself, before releasing it in a concussive wave. The surface of her stomach leapt with a life of it's own, the mighty sphere roaring with action as within it the magma passed through a portal.
The tiny glowing circle, buried deep within her intestines, funneled out the fiery content of her bowels. Slowly, it sucked in more and more, ejecting it somewhere in the ether, she hoped somewhere it would be noticed. She couldn't be held responsible for the rash actions of the council, she was only defending herself after all.
Slowly, the swelling slowed. Slowed. Halted.
She guzzled greedily at the tap, ready to show them all just what she was capable of. She drank deep, full draughts, her mind fully focused on both preventing herself from burning up and shifting the liquid rock from her gigantically over bloated abdomen.
Finally, the tank was empty.
She gasped, drawing a deep breath as she closed the portal and felt the remaining magma slosh lackadaisically around her lower intestine. Her hands encountered the new curve of her form, larger, prouder, her bulk eclipsed her previously inhuman dimensions. She had become truly vast. Slowly her fingers caressed the bloated gravidness, probing hither and thither, feeling the resistance of the over taxed expanse of flesh as it whined and gurgled with its unnatural contents. She smirked proudly, and leveled her gave at the amphitheater.
"You see, I have taken what little punishment you have given me, and I am still standing, and still in, how to put it best, a delicate condition..."
She puffed out her stomach of emphasis, reveling in it's massive circumference, turning gently this way and that to give the onlooking horde an unforgettable view of her gargantuan stomach.
"We know everything..."
The voice rang out again. Lillian laughed, high and cold, she hefted the bulk of her stomach and displayed it proudly.
"And yet here we are, me and my tummy, and you, with your faded, pathetic glory. Admit defeat."
"You are in a most delicate condition, indeed. What was it you said? "All I need is my own willpower."
We heard you. We saw you. You... lost focus during your task."
Lillian changed her expression to one of quizzical amusement.
"Well, the evidence would suggest that my willpower is thoroughly sufficient, wouldn't you agree?"
She puffed her stomach out more, to the very limit it would stretch to, and basked in their gaze as she vainly preened and posed, hands delicate against her monstrous abdomen. It's massive quaking surface uncovered and radiant in the low light, her immense flanks bursting with barely contained life, her navel flattened to a mere dark smudge on the lower slope of the horrific immensity by the enormous influx of fluid, it gurgled and sloshed mightily as she displayed the immensity of her impregnation. Her bra, once so over taxed with the task of containing her over enlarged mammarys had failed utterly, discarded to the ground by the immense black cauldron it had left her breasts free to the air and the gaze of the council, her large dark nipples erect from the adulation and excitement of her triumph. Her other garment was no longer visible, the huge increase in the dimensions of her bloated stomach had obscured it completely, only the very edge, the tiny wire thin black arms visible, pressing deliciously into her abundance of flesh at the hip.
Suddenly she felt a shift. Her hand shot to the site of the disturbance, low down on the right side of her belly she felt for it it. For a moment it felt as if it was a false alarm, everything within the bloated orb was as good as could be expected, and she patted it in relief.
It patted back.
Her eyes widened, her breath quickened in her chest, her breasts rising and falling rhythmically as she gasped in panic, her hands pressing hard into the sides of her stomach she realized an awful truth.
Something was moving in there.
"You willpower... is no longer enough. He is awake. He lives."
She turned a frightened eye on her own stomach, watching the heaving surface. TO the crowd, she paused, hands low on the sides of her immense quaking gut, feeling for more from within it's terrible dimensions.
"We know... everything."
Suddenly, her stomach lurched. Already low, the great red sphere shifted, dropping lower, it's contents taking shape and beginning to move of it's own accord. Lillian replaced her look of triumph with one of shock, and then pain.
"I'm still here, nothing is different, I can still contain him, I still bear the..."
She was cut of, as in an instant, all the muscles in her abdomen jerked tight. Her belly rose, bumping her breasts upward as it climbed, shaking heavily, it hung for a second before dropping again with an audible thud, the momentum lowering Lillian to her knees as she struggled to recast the spells. Her stomach lurched again, harder and firmer this time.
She groaned out surprise, her immaculate nails digging in to the no longer supple flesh of her over bloated belly, her concentrator now fully broken as the horror in her womb began to look for escape.
She cried out in pain, and rolled over onto her back. She screamed in pain and anger.
The birthing had begun.
Her stomach lurched and heaved as the life inside took angry malevolent shape, power eons old and dark as pitch filled her, an evil presence so old it had first terrified sleeping figures who huddled in furs around cave fires so many years ago.
She screamed again, another contraction rocking her womb as the evil eyes within opened.
"We know everything... and so does he..."
Lillian's mind grew black from the pain, the fear not registering in her as she ground her hips, bucking and pushing as the life within began it's decent into her birth canal. Her hips creaked as the widened to accommodate it's rapidly growing form, her stomach stretched to it's absolute limit, the movement of the thing inside, it's form and shape and every motion clearly broadcast through the paper thin layer of crimson skin.
She cried out feebly, scared, afraid and in front of an uncountable inscrutable audience utterly alone.
She felt helpless, alone, and for the first time as a child before the awful truth the dragged her down to the depths with it.
She would not survive the birth.