A Mercynaries Story from SinComics.com
Trevor stopped on the snowy trail and breathed in deeply. He felt the sting of the cold air in his nostrils, but he reveled in it. This trip was exactly what he needed and he'd been going over this trip in his mind for years. Granted, his dream trip didn't start with a delayed flight, an unexpected transfer, and not all of his luggage making that transfer with him. So a week's worth of clothing disappeared into the baggage claim ether, he still had his money with him and he was able to use that to rent the hiking gear as planned and enough food and basic supplies to last the week. A couple of days to sit around in the same clothes and grow your beard out was rustic. Campers did all the time. It was manly.
He was exhausted by the time he reached the rental cabin. The hike took most of the day and he underestimated how much the supplies weighed, but now the cabin was in sight and it looked gorgeous. Trevor's mind gleefully mulled over dropping the pack, lighting a fire, and digging into some grub. There was nothing like a vigorous workout to make canned goods seem appealing. He could practically smell the roaring fire and the- Trevor's eyes shot open and he sniffed the air. He COULD smell the fire. And he could see faint puffs of smoke coming from the cabin's chimney. All that planning and money for the trip, the hike out here, and renting the cabin and somebody else was there before him!? Stomping through the snow and sinking deeper into it with each huffy step, Trevor dug out the keys from his pack and went to kick the door open, only to find it swung out and not in. His toes bent against the sturdy door and he fell back into the wet mound of snow. His righteous anger given way into embarrassment, Trevor meekly pulled the door open and trudged inside. A woman looked at him with wide eyes and said something he couldn't understand. He gawked a little and turned over the language in his head. He couldn't place it. It sounded vaguely European but nothing he'd come across before. She was cute too. She wore a white tank top under her unzipped parka and tight slacks that showed off her athletic physique, with a sporty brunette ponytail swaying as she stared at him. Trevor stammered, realized he probably seemed pretty creepy, and forced out a simple, “Hi?”.
The woman titled her head quizzically and then shouted, “Ilya!”.
Trevor grimaced and motioned wildly with his hands. “I don't think I can- What is- The cabin was supposed to-”.
“Ja?”, a voice rang out from a back room. Trevor startled as another woman stepped into the living room. She was just as cute as her companion. A light purple sweater clung to her curves and contrasted her flowing blonde hair. She wore white slacks tucked into fur-lined boots with a slight heel more suited for a ski lodge than hiking. The second mystery woman looked at him and said some more words in the foreign language.
Trevor shook his head and got back to stammering. “I rented this cabin. It was supposed to be empty! I didn't know you would be-”
The blonde held up her hands. “You talk... very fastly.” She spoke cautiously and in a measured tone.
“English!” Trevor clapped back. “Oh, thank God you speak English! I was worried this would-”
“Talking fastly. My English, slow. Not good.”
“Sorry!” Trevor held out his hand. “I'm Trevor. And your English is just fine!”.
She shook his hand vigorously and motioned to herself. “I am Ilya. My friend, Lara.” The brunette nodded in Trevor's direction. “She has no English.”
Trevor dutifully smiled and nodded back. “Pleasure to meet you two.” He put his pack down and started to rummage through it for the envelope with his travel plans. “They said the cabin would be mine. I rented it and I was going to be here alone.”
Ilya shook her head. “We hired the cabin too. Empty for vacation.”
Trevor looked around, dejected. They outnumbered him, so he wouldn't be able to force them out. They looked polite enough to probably not be axe murderers. And they were cute...
“Have not the sadness, Mister Trevor. We all spend a night. Call landlord from emergency line in morning and sort out mess, ja?”
Trevor smiled and unzipped his jacket. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I'd really love to rest before yelling at a travel agent. It was a long hike and I'd-”
Ilya gasped and reached out. “We are rudes! Take off jacket! Sit by fire!”
He barely had time to kick off his boots before she pulled him forward to the cozy living area. Lara picked up his pack and motioned that she was putting it one of the back rooms. Despite the circumstances and language barrier, Trevor thought they hit it off well. Ilya was peppy, kind, and eager to practice her English and Trevor quickly perfected the art of smiling and nodding when the women spoke to each other in their native tongue. The pair had already started cooking for dinner and were quick to display their hospitality and have Trevor join in the meal.
Lara returned from the kitchen with a bubbling pot and an extra bowl for the table. Trevor thanked them profusely as he sat down at the table. A hot, home cooked meal was exactly what he wanted after the hike and the women's cooking smelled better than anything he'd be able to manage with the canned goods and pack of beans. Lara dished out three bowls of the hearty stew with a smile and Trevor dug in. It had a bite to it that he'd never experienced before. It wasn't spicy but it made his throat and tongue tingle as he slurped it down. His requests for information were answered with the names of ingredients that were incomprehensible to his sheltered American ears, but the women assured him it was a native dish.
Stuffed with the goodness of a home-cooked meal, Trevor thanked the duo once more and pushed out from the table. Lara quickly got up and ran to the kitchen. Ilya grabbed his hand and motioned to the kitchen. “No, no,” she pleaded. “Is customs to have dessert.”
Trevor politely declined saying he was too full, but Lara quickly came back with a plate of sliced fruit and the ladies seemed too pleased for him to walk away. Part of the trip was to experience new things, so bottoms up!
The fruit had an intense flavor Trevor wasn't prepared for. It was strong and sharp with a bite like citrus but that melted into sweetness. Once he got over the initial shock, Trevor enjoyed the treat and patted his stomach. “Thank you again! I'm beat though, so I'm going get set up for the night.” He looked around and the women seemed to pick up on his concern.
“Lara and I share room. You not sleep on floor.”
With a final smile and wave, Trevor walked to his pack and bedroll and took it all into the smaller room to the side of the cabin.
He stretched out and smiled, thinking over the day's event. It was off to a rocky start, but from the adversity, Trevor had made two new friends, tried some foreign cuisine, and would be back on his dream trip come morning. Listening to the cold wind outside of the cabin, Trevor drifted off to sleep.
Later that night, the cabin was jolted awake by a rumbling and shaking. Trevor steadied himself by holding onto the wall and made his way out towards the living room, the shaking getting worse and louder. He barely heard the door swing open as the women rushed out with a flashlight. Trevor stopped to think how much more prepared the two of them were, but a jolt to the side of the cabin knocked them all down to the floor. The trio huddled together, away from the windows, and despite the danger, Trevor made the time to take in how gorgeous the women looked in their night clothes. Ilya was dressed in a simple cotton top and pajama bottoms that rode low on her curved hips, while Lara wore a thoroughly impractical nightgown and short shorts. The unexpected guests were shaping up to be a more and more welcome surprise.
“Avalanches!” Ilya shouted, snapping Trevor back to attention. “Much common!” Trevor tried to put on a brave face, but was internally both scared for his life and furious that none of this information had come up with the travel agent.
A final jolt and shudder shook the cabin and the trio shouted in fear. As the quaking slowly died off, they stood up and accessed the damage. The furniture had shaken out of place and they could hear some of the kitchen supplies rolling around on the ground, but there didn't seem to be any major damage. Trevor tried to look out the window, but it was so dark, he could no longer see the stars in the sky. Ilya shone the flashlight over at him and the glistening of ice sparkled outside. He quickly bolted to the entryway, pushing outwards, only to find the door stuck fast. It wouldn't budge an inch. Trevor slumped forward and cursed the builder for having a door that swung outwards.
Lara said something to her friend and Ilya translated. “We check in morning. Snow will shake lose and all be well!”
The duo's overwhelming optimism got to Trevor and he forced a smile. “Right... Right. Everything will be fine in the morning.” The group said another round of good-nights and returned to their rooms to sleep less soundly this time.
The next morning, Trevor woke to find the cabin still dark. He could just barely make out the shine of the ice on the window panes as he shuffled back out to the common area. The women were already hard at work cleaning up the room, tending a fire, and from the smells that greeted him, baking in the kitchen. It was no small miracle that the simple utilities still functioned. Trevor scanned the room and his eyes lit up as he spied the emergency phone in the corner. He excitedly pointed to it, but Lara's glare and the simple shaking of her head let Trevor know that the emergency line was out. They'd have no choice but to wait it and either hope that help came or the snow cleared up enough to create a path to get through a window or tear the door down.
Ilya soon entered with a plate of steaming pastries. It was amazing what she could do with the simple ingredients that stocked the cabin's pantry. The dough was flaky and buttery and the rich filling had the now-familiar taste of their native fruit. Trevor wolfed down more than his fair share of the offering, but the cooks didn't seem to mind. He was already used to the intense taste and could appreciate its complex flavors. Trevor soon felt guilty for eating that much, so he returned to his room and presented the women with the canned goods and supplies he'd bought for the trip. Lara looked them over with sadness and after a hint of disgust, Ilya smiled and waved her hand. “We... we cook. Worry not. You clean, we cook.”
It seemed like a fair trade and they were both far better chefs than anything Trevor could muster, so he agreed to trade. The group finished eating and Trevor cleared the table and tidied up the kitchen while the women got ready for the day. Once they were done, Trevor took a quick shower, thankful that the water heater was still doing its best despite the circumstances and then slipped back into his clothes.
Back in the living room, the cabin-mates had little to do but talk and get to know each other. Ilya was already improving her English and Lara and Trevor were able to pick up the spare word of each others' language, despite some difficulty. Trevor talked about losing his last job after the company was bought out by a rival business and feeling aimless now that he was out of work. He'd moved across the country to get that job and lost touch with his friends and family back home. The women intently listened and nodded along, with Ilya piping in that their home town was much different. They were from a small village without the hustle and bustle of big business, but that had left Ilya and Lara bored and wanting something bigger and more adventurous. They'd planned their camping trip as a test to see how well they'd do away from home and to meet new people.
By the time the group had finished their stories and were better acquainted, it was already late afternoon and the three were hungry again. Trevor had built up an enormous appetite, despite just sitting around the fire all day. The women prepared another feast of a bubbling stew even spicier than the night before's. The three joked the best they could across the language divide and shared stories of their lives back home. Trevor told tales of the drudgery and rat race of working for corporations in the city, while Lara and Ilya spun tales of their small village. Trevor thought it sounded idyllic compared to what he was trying to leave behind.
Full on the bounty and good eats of the meal, the trio decided to turn in early and not waste their supplies and heat. Trevor quickly cleaned up after bidding the women a good night and they shuffled off to their room. Surely tomorrow would bring some respite from the current predicament.
Trevor woke uneasily after a groggy night's sleep. He wrote it off as worrying about potentially losing the whole trip to the avalanche, but schlepped his way out of bed anyway. Sleeping the whole day away would only lead to cabin fever. He threw on his now well-worn outfit and looked in the half-mirror in the corner of the room. He hadn't shaved in a few days but he didn't even have a hint of stubble. Must be stress related. People's hair falls out when they're stressed and that seemed like a fairly medically sound diagnosis. Stress also led to overeating, and Trevor slumped at the thought of that. He'd been eating so heartily that he felt a little bloated. Even his pants and shirt were starting to get snug. Now that he was snowed in, Trevor was worried he'd have to give up his plans of dropping a few pounds and buffing up with some mountain hiking. He'd certainly never been overweight, but it would have been nice to come back from the trip with a little definition.
Ilya and Lara were already at the windows when Trevor left his room. Their dismayed expressions told him everything he needed to know. The snow was still piled up and the door was stuck fast. If it iced over, it would just be that much harder to escape. They ate a simple breakfast of just the fruit and talked little as they stared at the blocked window.
As they finished up, Lara excitedly shouted something in her native tongue and tugged at Ilya's sweater. Ilya nodded and turned to Trevor, “Lara says the chimney!”.
Trevor winced and felt like a fool for not thinking of it earlier. The three walked over to the living room and cleared out the remaining logs from the fireplace. Trevor stuck his head inside and quickly exclaimed, “Light! I see some light!”. The women clapped him on the back and cheered. “There's some kind of grate though. I think... I think I can squeeze up there.”.
Lara gave him a boost and he scrambled his way up to the grate. Trevor jimmied and shook it as best he could, but it wouldn't give in the slightest. Damn thing must have been built into the chimney itself and they certainly didn't have the tools to take it apart. He slid back down to the floor and landed in a cloud of soot. “No luck. It won't budge.”.
The women sighed again and helped Trevor to his feet. Lara clapped her hands tried to shake off the soot. Trevor couldn't understand what she said, but she said it in a fairly universal tone of disgust. She stepped into the kitchen to wash her hands, and Ilya took Trevor to the side.
“Your clothes. They are very dirty. You must change.”
“Sorry, Ilya. It was pretty dirty up there. I'll hop in the shower and scrub off the best I can.”
“No, no.” She shook her head. “I did not want to mention before, but you wear same clothes every day, ja?”.
Trevor sheepishly stammered and tried to explain about the airline losing his luggage. It was a cheap flight the travel agent set up for him but now he could tell why it was such a deal. “I was planning to be in the cabin alone, so I thought it would be all right. There wasn't supposed to be anybody else around for it to bother!”.
Ila nodded solemnly and rubbed her chin. After a short pause, she slapped him on the back, sending out another puff of soot. “Lara and Ilya planned for long trip. We have much spares. You can use!”.
Trevor immediately stepped back and assumed a defensive posture. “I couldn't! That's... that's weird. I mean, you're women and wear-”.
Ilya stepped forward and prodded him in the chest. “You stop! We will not put up with you in stinky old clothes for rest of trip! We would sooner throw you in fireplace.” Trevor nervously backed down. That... that had to be something that sounded a lot harsher due to being unfamiliar with the language. She didn't really mean- “Yes, yes. We give you spares. Such nonsense. You have no other options and who will see you?”
“I- I guess that's true.” They were alone and wouldn't be getting any visitors. By the time the rescue teams appeared or the snow melted, he could wash his clothes in the shower and change back.
Ilya shooed him off to the shower and said she'd leave him the outfit in his room. “Use the scrub in shower. Very fancy! Cleans anything and makes you feel fresh!” Trevor grumbled his thanks and headed off.
Stepping out of the shower, he had to admit Ilya was right. The body wash cleaned the soot right off and left a pleasant sweet smell. He'd have to ask about the brand and see if he could get it back home. In his room, he hung up the towel and looked over the “gifts” that Ilya had left him. Picking up a sky blue pair of satin underwear, he rolled his eyes. But if this is what Ilya had given him as spares, that must mean they were wearing the same thing. He let the mental image cloud his thoughts as he slipped them on. Next, he held up thick gray tights. They were warm and must have been made of some thermal material, but they clung to his legs as he tugged them on. Trevor looked over at the mirror and grumbled at the way they made it look like his butt was sticking out like the yoga pants the women in the city wore when he saw them leaving the gym. That's one thing he'd miss if he ever left the city. Probably a lot fewer women in the mountains or countryside in yoga pants. The final piece was a blouse with buttons down part of the front. It was a soft, slightly shimmering material, but the cut and light purple color clearly identified it as a woman's shirt. Trevor steeled himself and walked out to the communal space.
Ilya gave him a polite smile after looking up from sweeping the last of the soot away. “You feel better.”.
Trevor nodded, a little shocked by the kindness in her voice. Had it been anybody he knew back home and he'd have been in for a world of mockery and teasing. Lara said something to her friend and gave Trevor a small peck on the cheek. He stammered and Ilya giggled. “She says thank you for being the hero of the chimney.”.
For the rest of the day, Trevor fidgeted uncomfortably in the new clothes, so he thankful when the women started cooking and that gave him something to occupy his mind. They showed him how they prepared their dishes, but Trevor was rarely sure of what the spices and sauces they used were. Lara prepared some kind of small roast with some meat they had stored in the ice box and Ilya gave him the task of stirring some pudding as she made dough for tiny pastries. Once everything was ready, the three sat together, closer than before, and toasted their small feast to making the best of the situation. After dropping their dishes in the sink, Ilya returned with a wine bottle and three glasses. She poured a healthy amount for the three of them and chugged hers back with a refreshed sigh. Lara followed suit and nodded over to Trevor. The wine shone with a sheen on the surface that looked like oil in the fire light. He took a cautionary sip and almost immediately gagged. “S-Strong! What is this, pure alcohol?!”.
Lara leaned back laughing and Ilya gave him a playful punch to the shoulder. “I thought you Americans were party people! Can't handle native drink like girls?”.
Trevor motioned to the glass and pleaded the best he could with his eyes. “American beer is like water compared to this!”. The women clucked their tongues and stared him down until he finished off the glass with three agonizing gulps. Ilya and Lara cheered for him and gave him a hearty slap on the back.
“We will handle cleaning tonight. You look like you need rest!”. Trevor could feel his face was already flushed and he was quickly hit with the beginning of a buzz. He said his “good-night”s and wobbled off to his room. Collapsing onto the bed, Trevor immediately entered a deep sleep.
The next morning came far too soon, and Trevor sat in the bed clutching his head. He still felt a bit hungover to compound how tired he felt. Trevor slid out of bed and fell to his knees. He felt sluggish and body was heavy. Everything about his insides felt... full. Like a pressure had built up inside him. Standing in front of the mirror, Trevor looked himself over. Aside from still wearing the ridiculous outfit, he looked normal-ish. A bit puffy from the extra weight is all.
As he shuffled out of the room, Ilya and Lara looked him over and started speaking in their native tongue. Soon, Ilya came over and let Trevor drape his arm over her shoulder and lifted him up straighter. Trevor explained that he wasn't feeling well and after a quick exchange between the women, Lara went to the kitchen. Ilya sat him down and assured him they would be fine if he wanted to rest for the day. The drinks must have really taken something out of him. As Trevor slumped against the table, Lara returned to him carrying a bowl of another kind of stew and said some comforting words. Trevor at least assumed they were comforting. It could have been pity, but she at least sounded nice. With spoon in hand, Trevor took small bites of the new dish and was surprised at how thick it was. Even in his groggy state, it was delicious, but he practically had to chew the stew and it had a slight burn on the way down. His roommates stood by and ensured he ate every last drop before Ilya helped him back to his room. “We will stay quiet while you sleep up. You rest well and feel healthy.” Trevor barely had a chance to thank her before he fell back asleep.
Morning came to Trevor once more and while his mind felt clearer, but he quickly noticed he had discomfort breathing. Putting his hand to his chest, Trevor felt a plush resistance pushing back and an unfamiliar heaviness. He struggled in the dark room to kick off the sheets and find a light, feeling a weight and bobble in his chest and thighs as he kicked out. Stumbling into his pack and knocking it into the garbage can, Trevor found the flashlight in his supplies and fumbled to turn it on. As the beam lit up the room, he saw his shirt stretched against a rise in his chest that jiggled with each panicked exhale. In his panic, Trevor dropped the flashlight and backup against the wall, only to feel a pillowy squish as he pressed against it.
The door swung open and Ilya and Lara rush in. “We heard a commotion! Is Trevor sick?”.
He grasped at the mounds in his shirt and shouted, “I'm a woman!”, then snapped his mouth shut and pawed at his throat in response to the unfamiliar lilt in his voice. Lara looked him up and down and nodded in agreement. “How could this happen!? Is-Is it an allergic reaction? The food, it's- I must still be sleeping. A nightmare...” He cringed as Lara prodded one of his plump thighs and commented back to Ilya. She nodded and stroked Trevor's back.
“It is fine. You are fine. Very hearty! You have much health!”.
“'Fine'?!” Trevor struggled against her, but now Ilya's arm was locked with his and Lara was holding him on the other side. He was too weak and his body too foreign for him to effectively fight back. “What happened to me!”.
Ilya shook her head. “You are fine. Such loudness. American tourists!” The women talked among themselves and shared a laugh as they took Trevor to the table in the living room.
As Lara sat him down, Trevor felt the swell of his expanded hips spread across the seat. He reflexively moved to jump up against the foreign feeling, but Lara pushed him back down and held him in place. Soon, Ilya left the kitchen holding a tall glass of a creamy, green drink. She held it out for him to take, but Trevor turned his head. Lara leaned forward and held his head in place using her side and one arm, while the free hand pinched his nose. Ilya leaned in, forced some of the drink into his mouth, then held his jaw shut. Unable to breathe through his nose, Trevor was forced to gulp it down and when Ilya loosened her grip, he gasped for air. She smiled and held out the drink once more. “Again.” Trevor looked at Lara's stern face, and back to Ilya with her almost caring composed smile. He had nowhere to go, so running wasn't an option and he wasn't strong enough to fight back against the two. Heck, he probably wasn't strong enough back in his normal body with how easily the women were holding him in place. He meekly reached for the glass and took another sip, but with her finger on the bottom of the cup, Ilya pushed it up and sent all of the drink sloshing into his mouth. Trevor gulped the last of it down and coughed, sending more uncomfortable jiggling through his body.
“Why?” he meekly gasped.
Ilya responded in her native tongue, causing Lara to loosen her grip and let Trevor lean against the table. The two engaged in several back and forths, Trevor not understanding a word of but his heart filling with panic. The women hoisted him back to his feet and started walking him back to his room. Ilya lifted him up, with one arm under his back and the other under his thick thighs. “Oof! Very healthy!”.
Trevor woke with a start and was immediately hit by the added weight on his chest. He ballooned up even more during the night and his breasts were straining against Ilya's shirt. His cleavage was even more prominent and after a quick check, Trevor noticed several of the blouse's buttons had popped off during his fitful rest. The tights were stretched out and hugged every exaggerated curve of his new legs and bottom. Ilya and Lara were already cheerfully waiting at his door and hurried him off to the shower to get ready for the day. It wasn't even worth fighting them about it, Trevor knew he was trapped, outnumbered, and overpowered. Stepping into the tiny shower, he felt his bottom press against the cool glass of the shower door. After rushing through the cleaning and the new sensations of his warped body, Trevor wrapped himself in a towel as best he could fit and returned to his room. Lara presented him with a new set of clothes and got to work. She expertly slid his arms through the straps on a bra and snapped it shut. As humiliating as it was, Trevor was thankful for the support and holding back his new additions. She tossed him matching white satin panties and he slid them over his curved backside. A sweater came next and while it covered his skin, it protruded out at his chest and seemed to call more attention to his changes. Finally, Lara helped him struggle into a pair of slacks, already tight and difficult to stuff him into.
Trevor ate his breakfast in silence, while the women chatted in their home tongue at a rapid pace. Their foreign chatter worried him even more. They had done this to him and for a reason he couldn't comprehend. He was trapped in the cabin with freaks.
After the meal, the women shooed Trevor off with the dishes. He had just stepped into the kitchen when a rustling was heard at the cabin's door. In a shock, Trevor dropped the plates and they clattered to the ground and spilled crumbs over the floor.
The cabin door slowly swung open and three figures stepped into the cabin. They were dressed in heavy parkas sporting filled packs with hand shovels and picks hanging off of them. Trevor was overcome with joy and rushed over to the leader, his hips bouncing and swaying with each step. He didn't even pay attention to his chest squishing against the heavy material of their coats as he hugged his rescuers. The crew removed their hoods and walked to each of the cabin-mates to ensure they were safe and healthy.
The leader held Trevor by the shoulders and she looked him over. “Are you feeling all right? Do you have any injuries?”
“No. No! Oh, thank you! I just want to get out of here. Now now now. Please!” Trevor stammered and pleaded.
The rescuer nodded to her crew and they collected the trio's coats and led them through the hole dug in the snow. As Trevor closed his coat and fumbled to get the zipper over the rise of his bust, he looked over the cabin and the snow sealing it off from the world. One of the crew patted his back and lead to him to the trail before shouting something to her teammates in a tongue that Trevor didn't understand but seemed quite familiar.
The journey down the mountain was slow and Trevor internalized the blame for that. He tried to keep his distance from Ilya and Lara so he relied solely on the rescue team to help him through the path and cracks in the mountain. He tired quickly due to the heft of his new body and stumbled often. The sun was already setting when he noticed they were approaching an opening in the mountains and the lights starting to flicked to life in the village below.
It was a quaint little town with vaguely European architecture and designs on the buildings. The kind of place you'd expect to see people wearing lederhosen. What initially appeared to be gas lamps were actually electric street lights with beautiful carved covers. Even though the shops were closing for the night, Trevor could still smell a faint sweetness coming from the bakeries. He did a quick inventory and realized the group had already passed three of them. And clothing shops. Trevor noted two dress shops across the street from one another and spun around to look back over what they had passed on this street. Before he could walk back, two of the rescue crew clapped him on the back and pointed to a manor in the center of the village.
Outside the building, the team was met by a woman in a simple but elegant jacket and skirt. It was difficult to judge her age. She had the bearing and posture of an older woman, but looked to be in her late twenties. When she gave Ilya and Lara a large grin and hugs, Trevor's unease was no longer deniable and backed up into the two rescuers behind him, so they gave him a nudge forward.
The woman approached him and took his hand. “Our dear guest! Such an experience on the mountains. How lucky you are!” She had an accent that matched Ilya's, but a better grasp on English.
“W-who are you? Where am I?!”
“My manners! You are welcomed in our humble village. I am the duchess. Please, come. An honored guest must stay in the manor.” She pulled him forward and held on to his hand as they approached the building. The crew followed closely, blocking any route Trevor could have escaped on.
At the front door, a woman took Trevor's pack and coat and led the rescue team off to the side. The duchess lead Trevor, Ilya, and Lara up the grand staircase and down the hall. Outside a set of double doors she turned to the women. “Dears, will you please wait in the study. We have much to discuss.” Ilya and Lara bowed slightly and walked back down the hall. “Now you, my dear. I'm sure you're quite tired after your journey. Please freshen up and we will talk in the morning.” Before he could object, she deftly slid him into the room and hurried the doors closed. Once over the initial shock, Trevor made for the door handle, but heard something slide into the keyhole and a clunk before he could turn the knob. The door was locked tight and didn't give as he pounded on it and yelled obscenities. He dropped to the floor and landed on his bottom with a cushioned plop and sighed in exhaustion. From being trapped in one place to another. This room was significantly nicer though. It looked like a small palace or shrine with an enormous canopy bed in the center of the back wall and beautiful cabinets and dressers along the sides. He grunted as he got to his feet and stuck his head into the room off to the side to discover a bathroom larger than his apartment back home. Decorated in marble it also looked far more modern than he would have expected from this village. Fluffy towels filled the racks and spaces around the ornate tub and open shower, with various bottles and scented soaps filling every open spot on a shelf.
Trevor shuffled back to the main room and sat down on the most plush bed he'd ever felt. A silken gown was laid out on the bed, but he kicked at it and forced to the bottom of the mattress like it was toxic. He was exhausted from the hike and eventually sleep overcame his fear of the town and its people, so he curled up on top of the mattress and drifted asleep.
Trevor awoke, splayed out on the new bed having wrapped himself in the covers during the night. He sat upright in a start, feeling the now familiar pull and tug from the weight on his chest. An exploratory pat later, he sighed with some sense of release. He hadn't changed any more during the night. He was still just... huge. As he swung his legs over the bed, the door opened and two women walked in in a hurry. Judging from their black dresses and aprons, they looked like maids. Trevor reflexively pulled away from them but was startled by two quick claps from a third woman in the doorway. “You will get up and face the day, ja? Our guest of honor!” Trevor immediately began his protests, but the first two women both took an arm and lifted him to his feet and headed towards the bathroom. One motioned for him to undress will the other laid out the supplies and shook out a towel. They hurried him into the shower and turned on the hot water. In a normal situation, the experience would have been luxurious and the fanciest thing he'd ever experienced, but Trevor hurried through it as fast as he could and stepped out to be met with the maids drying him off in a flurry of towels and buffing.
They scurried him back to the bedroom where the leader had set out an outfit and was closing up the dressers once more. The maids deftly slipped on white silk panties and a matching bustier. They were the best fitting things Trevor had worn since the nightmare in the cabin, but he was still less than pleased. The maids motioned for him to sit as their commander handed them white stockings and looked pleased as they effortlessly rolled them up his smooth legs. Next came a poofy green skirt that no matter how much Trevor stamped it down, sprung back up to its original position that barely covered him. A white blouse with ballooned shoulders was slipped on him and the maids buttoned it up without even looking, followed by a green vest. Finally, they draped a shimmering frilly white apron over him, cinching it tight on his waist and under his bust, lifting his breasts proudly for all to see. Trevor fidgeted, adjusting to the trappings and getting his breath back. When the maids turned their backs, his hands shot immediately to the knots on the apron to free himself, but a sharp rap on the knuckles from their leader stopped him before he could make any progress. Unaware of the incident, the maids turned back and slipped elbow-length gloves over each arm and moved him to sit on the bed once more. They finished off his costume with brown boots featuring a chunky heel and tufts of fur that tickled his knees. The commander seemed please with her handiwork and with a joyful command to the maids, they bowed and left the room.
Trevor stood defeated as the duchess entered the room and beamed. They lavished him with praise and expounded on his beauty with such rapid speed, that Trevor was overwhelmed and let them lead him into the hallway. When his senses finally returned to him, he pleaded with the duchess. “Why? Why are you doing this to me?”
She smiled and rubbed his back gently. “My dear, you are the guest of honor! The whole town has been waiting to meet you for days. You will be a boon to us all!” Despite all the praise, Trevor thought it all sounded sinister. As they led him through the manor, pointing out the various halls, libraries, and studies, he sought exits or places of escape. The twisting corridors and fast pace the duchess kept forced him to stop thinking of places to break out and focus on keeping up in the heels.
When they reached the grand staircase once more, Trevor saw Ilya and Lara waiting on the ground floor. They cooed and gasped at seeing him and praised how wonderful he looked as he slowly descended. Trevor could barely see his feet past his bust, so each step was slow and measured, leaving an infuriating length of time for the women to comment on his beauty and health. Finally reaching the bottom, Ilya gave him a hug. “You fit right in like a native! So pretty! Trevor is not upset, ja?”.
The duchess stepped in and answered before Trevor could swear at his betrayer. “Of course she isn't upset, my dear. You two did a wonderful job and have served the village well. You will be heroes second only to our guest of honor. Come, come! The feast is ready!” They grabbed him by the hand and pulled him, tottering on his heels, into the great dining hall.
As Trevor looked over the crowd, it seemed like the entire village was in that room. And they were facing him and smiling broadly. The duchess led him forward and the crowd closed in behind him. A long corridor of people praising him, offering him kisses on the cheeks, some speaking in their native tongue while others spoke heavily accented English. Trevor did another quick scan of the room and realized that every person there was a women. The entire village! Not a single person looked to be over 30 and they were all varying degrees of pretty through gorgeous. The duchess led him to the head of table, with Ilya and Lara sitting on both sides of his throne, and sat him down. The chair slid forward and despite the noise of the room, Trevor could hear a solid clunking noise coming from under him when the chair was pushed all the way in. It was stuck in place and wouldn't budge. He'd never be able to slip through the chair and escape under the table and there wasn't enough room to twist and get his legs up, so he was stuck too.
The duchess addressed the crowd in the native tongue, made grand sweeping gestures to Trevor, occasionally patted him on the back or head, and the crowd erupted in clapping. A contingent of women near the door fanned out of the room but soon return carrying trays and trays of food. Despite his predicament, Trevor marveled at the grandness at the meal and the dishes laid before him. Several of the servers, clapped Ilya and Lara on the back and most of the food was placed on their end of the table. The townspeople dispersed to their tables and the feast began. The sights and smells were overwhelming but Ilya pushed a beautiful roast over to Trevor and it was the most succulent thing he'd ever eaten. The air was rich with the smells and sweetness of the bounty being offered. After eating a slice of a moist cake topped with slices of what must have been their home crop, the strange fruits he'd eaten in the cabin, Trevor put down his fork and looked for a way to leave. Seeing he was done, Lara picked up a goblet near them and poured some of the green water into Trevor's mouth. It was cool and refreshing, almost effervescent as it went down, but by the time he drank it all, his stomach was gurgling with hunger and the food looked more appetizing than ever. A server came over, refilled his drink and swept another dish over to him.
The routine went on for hours. Trevor couldn't help himself and ate what was passed his way until he couldn't manage anything more. Then, the drink was forced on him, and he went back to being as hungry as if he hadn't eaten for days. He was sure his stomach couldn't possibly hold more, but it was the rest of him that started to feel full again. Like in the cabin, he felt a pressure inside himself as he ate. Meal after meal filled him and he was sure he could actually feel himself growing and pushing out. It happened so slowly he hadn't noticed before, but his top strained to stay up and there was less and less room for him to shift around in the chair. Even his lips felt puffy and plump as he continued to eat and eat.
The banquet seemed to last the entire day, but the crowds eventually started thinning and fewer people were coming to praise Trevor. Soon, the duchess came to the groggy Trevor, gave him a final hug for the night, and thanked him for all he'd do for the village and its people. He didn't have time to delve deeper into that statement before Ilya kicked a switch at the bottom of his chair and released him. Lara joined her to heft their guest up and start him on the wobbly path back to his room. Trevor could feel himself jiggling and bouncing and they helped him up the stairs and was sure that the women's comments and titters were aimed at him. Back at the room, he waved them off, shut the door, and waddled over to the bed to collapse in a food coma.
It was a fitful night's sleep and Trevor woke with unease. He grunted as he tried to roll over to his side, but between the plush bed and further expansion in his own plush backside, he tottered on his back like a turtle. With the bustier and apron hoisting him up and his bent position on the bed, his breasts felt like they were going to suffocate him if they ballooned out any more. And he wasn't sure if he was done with any growth spurts from the day's feast.
Before he could wallow in too much self pity, a green flash sparked out from under the door and then disappeared. There were rustling noises, then another flash and silence. Trevor paused, unsure if he actually saw something, but then another flash and more noises. The pattern followed steadily, getting closer as it moved down the hall. He looked around the room for anything to defend himself with, when the flash reappeared at the foot of his bed and two heads popped out of a green gateway.
“Oooh! Found 'im!” Two figures stepped through and straightened themselves out. One of them, a redhead, waved her arm and the gateway disappeared.
The other, a blonde, glowered at her partner. “Should have just asked for directions...”.
Trevor froze, unsure of what to do. Was this what the villagers were capable of?! They had done this to him, so what teleportation that far off? The redhead looked him over and snickered. “Whoa there!”.
Trevor shot her a glare back, quickly followed by the blonde doing the same. “Mercy! Rude.”
The redhead bit her lip and held back the next laugh. “N-nice outfit there. You... wear it well.”
They didn't seem like the villagers. “Who are you two? What are you here for? What else can you people do to me!?”
The blonde waved him down. “Hold on, buddy. We're not with them. We're a... clean-up crew.” She pointed a thumb at herself. “Ruth. That one's Mercy.” The redhead waved.
Trevor struggled to his knees. “If you're not with them, you have to get me out of here! This village- These people! They're insane! I think- I think they're fattening me up to eat me! They keep forcing this weird fruit on me and I blow up and they're all young so I think they want to eat me for my power and-”
The two women barely stifled their guffaws and the blonde waved him down again. “Cannibals? Seriously? This place is WAY too nice for cannibals.”
Mercy nodded as if she was fully versed in the living conditions of cannibals. “I'm thinking... Remote village, strange crops, her shrine-y digs, the way you're busting out of that outfit... Ooh, ooh! Got it. It's a harvest thing.”
Ruth gave her partner a fist bump. “Good call. The people want to build a shrine to a harvest god and want a living sacrifice to represent a bountiful crop. But it's an isolated village so if they used one of their own, they'd run out of people. Grab somebody new, you, offer you, and it's a good harvest for all your years.”
Trevor gawked, dumbfounded. Mercy shook her head, her pig-tails whipping side to side. “Villagers, ugh. When will people learn that sacrifices don't do anything? The gods don't care. Well, let's get you deflated, friend.”
Their bedside manner left much the be desired, but they were his best hope for getting out of there and sounded like they could even turn him back. Ruth looked around the room. “I can't imagine that they left you anything less... interesting to wear, right?” Trevor sadly shook his head. “Okay, okay. We'll talk to the mayor. You stay put and we'll be back.”
The pair returned after a short while with the mayor in tow, looking as confused as Trevor was. Ruth bowed and made a grand motion at the duchess. “Your honor has agreed to let you go free.”
The duchess nodded sadly to Trevor. “Y-Yes. I talked to these two... creatures... and they assured me and convinced me through their magic that they have connections to the spiritual world.”
Ruth grinned confidently. “We can totally put in a good word with the harvest gods.” Then she turned and glared at the duchess, who shrunk back. “As long as you stop abducting people!”.
Mercy stood on the tips of her feet to appear fearsome. “And if you don't! Locusts! Boom, everywhere. Eveeeerywhere.”.
Trevor grabbed Ruth's arm and let her lead him out of the room. A small crowd had gathered in the hall but backed up as the group left Trevor's room. Ilya and Lara stood back in fear and a look of genuine sadness showed on their faces as Trevor walked away. He almost felt a pang of regret, remembering the enjoyable times they had together. Before the deception and body horror that led to him having two basketballs stuffed in his shirt. Any feelings of sadness quickly vanished and Trevor practically yanked his rescuers through the glowing doorway Mercy summoned.
There was a bright flash of green as they stepped through and they were suddenly in a cozy apartment. Trevor backed up against a wall to steady himself. Mercy took off the gauntlet on her arm and tossed it onto the couch. “Home, sweet home! You can crash on the couch until you're fit to return to your own place.”
The promise of normality snapped Trevor back to attention. “You can really cure me? Please! Go! Gogogo!”
Ruth walked over to the refrigerator and popped open a can of beer. “Hold your horses. They did a number on you, so it's going to take some effort. We clean you up now and all the chemicals and whatnot they pumped into you will just have your bursting out again by morning.”
Trevor stamped his foot, annoyed it made a dainty clack instead of emphasizing his mood. “You said you could fix me! You can't take that back!”.
Ruth waived off his tantrum as if she had seen it dozens of times. “We will. You just need to burn off most of THAT first.” She motioned in the air, tracing the shape of an hourglass with her hands. “You hit the gym, drop some of the excess weight, and burn off the last of their poison and then we can detoxify you and get you back to normal.” She look over Trevor once more, lingering on his bosom. “I think we're going to skip the day pass and get you a membership. This might take a while. What do you want, shorts or yoga pants?”
Read more Mercyanries comics and stories at: http://www.sincomics.com/ddg.php
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