-- Ja’heera and the Caravan  
- A fetish story in the Elder Scrolls world  
- By: Baron Von Clop

        Ja’heera squirmed against her binds, but it was really no use. The khajiit was stuck right where she was, strapped to the chair, her hands tied behind her back. She wasn’t getting out of this one. She was caught red-handed.

        Her deft fingers tried their best to untangle the knots in the rope holding her wrists together, but they were just too tight for her to get any grip on. Her claws frayed the outer layers of rope, but it was too slow for her to escape before her captors returned.

For some reason, they placed her, chair and all, in their stockroom. The hide tent was barely enough to keep her warm, the light fur-lined leather she wore still letting a chill through - after all, it did leave her fuzzy belly exposed along its lower portion. She shivered and squirmed more, her slim rear rubbing against the chair.

Finally, she felt her arms budge. One of the knots was coming loose thanks to her relentless tugging, and she could feel her ability to move her shoulders returning just a tiny bit. She had room, and leverage gave her an easier time.

The cackling made her freeze in place, however.

She hadn’t even noticed the other khajiit returning. She was far too focused on her binds to even notice the tent flap open and the pudgy feline entering. She didn’t bother anymore. She was probably done for. Caught trying to steal from the caravan, she was sure a swift execution was coming. The female never drew a weapon, however, and from a quick glance over her thick body, she could tell she wasn’t even armed.

Her captor stepped forward, dragging a claw along her chin before she spoke. “Hmm. Did the thief really think she would escape so quickly?” The heavy cat placed one hand on her wide hip, looking down over Ja’heera’s body. That claw reached down from her chin to the exposed portion of her flat, slightly toned stomach, and ran across it next. “The thief must be freezing in the snows of Skyrim, isn’t she?”

“This one wishes you would just do what you wish,” Ja’heera snarled, wriggling in her seat again. “Ja’heera would like you to stop playing around. Are you here to kill her?”

“Kill?” Her captor shook her head, standing up straight. “No, no. Absolutely not.” She gave a warm smile, leaning in to make eye contact. “This one is not here to kill the thief. But, she still must be punished, yes? Blood gives this one… the jitters, however. Violence isn’t necessary.”

Ja’heera had grown still while her captor spoke, but the moment she saw a light purple glow covering her clawed hand her efforts to escape were redoubled. A dagger, she could deal with. A spell could be any number of things, and it wasn’t something the thieving sorcerer wanted to have experimented on her.

“Please, relax,” Ja’heera’s captor said, taking another step closer to the bound khajiit. “This won’t hurt.”

The glowing hand cupped Ja’heera’s furry cheek, even as she tried to pull away from it. She jerked her head side to side, up and down, to try and dodge the physical contact, but it was no use. The moment that hand touched her face, she drew in a sharp breath and held it there, staying still. All was quiet for a moment, before she felt, then heard, the sharp growl echoing from her stomach.

Hunger hit Ja’heera like a caravan pulled by ten pairs of oxen. An agonizing gurgle rose up from her gut, rolling through her in a desperate attempt to get the khajiit to eat. The spell, whatever it was, kicked her appetite up to eleven, and she was feeling it.

Ja’heera fought the ropes around her wrist for another reason, now. Not to escape, but to eat. It suddenly made sense to her why she was brought to the camp’s storeroom, but logic wasn’t the first thing on her mind. Satisfying her incredible hunger was.

Her captor released her, once she took a few steps and made it around to Ja’heera’s back. With a quick few tugs, the thieving feline was released from her bindings, and instantly she sprung to her feet. She ran, stumbled, then caught herself against the side of a large barrel, her claws digging into it as she desperately attempted to tear it open before the next wave of insane hunger rolled through her. Her breath was short, and her chest was tight - her whole body was demanding food.

The top fell to the side as Ja’heera ripped it off, and the khajiit didn’t even look at what was in it before she stuffed her hand into it. Her claws sunk into something sticky and doughy, and her tongue recognized it as a pumpkin sweet roll the moment it touched her tongue. The sticky treat only lasted one bite before she swallowed it down, a large lump bulging through her throat before it settled into her stomach, and she stuffed more into her mouth.

Her captor could only chortle as she watched the thief eat with reckless abandon, standing off to the side with her hands on her hips.

Ja’heera’s claws ripped at the contents of the container, mound after mound of gooey treat ending up in her stomach. She ate several, and even as she reached a level of fullness that she would stop at on a regular day, she kept eating. The khajiit ended up on her knees, leaning her chest against the barrel as she gorged herself. Her head hung over the edge, desperately trying to speed up her ability to cram food into her mouth by even an inch.

It wasn’t long until the thin thief’s body started to grow outward with each bite. Her stomach swelled with her continuous eating, her stomach bulging out to make room for all of the food she was shoveling into her body. Even as the belt she wore grew tight, she couldn’t stop consuming, and it wasn’t long before that belt started to slip down below that rounding stomach. Her growing gut only exposed itself more, bloating out as it grew rounder with each swallow. She was stuffed, the skin around her stomach becoming tighter with each moment, and the leather that did cover part of her belly strained to contain her.

Just as the threads holding that chestpiece began to fray, her stomach let out a sharp gurgle and gave a hard churn, causing Ja’heera to lurch mid-bite for a short moment. The khajiit was set to explode, but her captor wasn’t going to allow her that. The spell’s other effects kicked in, as her body rapidly began to metabolize all the sickeningly sweet calories she’d gorged herself on. The thief’s stomach began to digest at the same rate as she was able to eat.

With several more sweetrolls sitting in her gut, she felt the seat of her leggings begin to grow tight, with the leather around her thighs feeling stretched against her legs. Weight was beginning to pile onto her frame as she gorged herself more and more, each attempt she made to stop her relentless eating only causing her to feel starved once more.

It was insatiable, even as she felt her body growing softer with each bite. The light muscle that showed through her fur, that tight body, began to slip away with every swallow. The little bit of meat was quickly obscured under a small layer of fat, but even as her figure bloated outward she kept gorging.  
          
Her sides began to bulge slightly over the sides of her now very, very tight belt, the fat accumulating around her waist bunching up around her inflexible leathers, straining to burst free. The hems croaked and squaked, and it wasn’t long before the thread began to fray. Small pockets of adipose squeezed through the holes made in her armor, pushing her closer and closer to exploding out of her clothing.

But Ja’heera didn’t care. The weight gain was nothing compared to the relentless hunger that ached in her stuffed stomach, but even that rapidly began to grow soft. Packed with more food than she’d normally eat in a week, it wasn’t enough to overcome the gut she was growing. Fat latched itself onto her rapidly swelling body, and it wasn’t long before even that taut ball of overindulgence was obscured by a soft, jiggling stomach.

Ja’heera never slowed down, even as she had to reach farther and farther into the barrel to find more food. She could feel herself growing with each additional pound, but it barely registered on her mind. Even as the leather of her leggings split and completely fell off of her meaty legs, she ate.

Her chestpiece was not far behind her legs. The threads there split along the sides, her chest and stomach becoming too large to be contained anymore. Nearly nude, the khajiit’s armor fell to the side, making room for the growing woman to bloat farther.

Her legs grew together, and Ja’heera was vaguely aware of how her thighs were beginning to touch. Soft fat rubbed against each other, and it wasn’t long before her stomach began to meet up with her legs, the lower swell of her growing belly beginning to hang over her waist and brush against her thighs. First her fur rubbed, but then she felt a full roll of fat lean against her weighty legs. Love handles formed, sagging flesh clinging onto the roundness of her gut.

Ja’heera’s claws scraped against the bottom of the barrel, and the fat cat let out a soft whine. It hit her just how much she’d eaten - but more terrifying was the idea that she was still hungry. She wasn’t aware of how much she’d gained, but each movement she made caused a new sensation to course through her body: quivering. Each desperate attempt to stuff more food into her mouth caused her new rolls to shake, jiggle with motion.

Abandoning her barrel, she instantly latched onto a crate lower to the ground. Ja’heera throw herself onto her rump, wincing as she felt every fatty part of her body shake. Sitting down, she felt her stomach rest against her thighs, but as she started to stuff her new random food - apple pie - into her mouth, any concerns about her weight disappeared like her figure had.

Ja’heera’s weight climbed higher and higher as she gorged on sweet treats, fueling the spell that had taken over her body. She could feel her ass spread out across the ground, she couldn’t stop her legs being pushed apart by her swelling thighs, and it wasn’t long before she felt more and more weight pressing down on her legs from her fattening belly. Rolls formed, fatty excess beginning to bulge over the sides of her stomach, hanging down from gravity. Her chest had nearly doubled in size, heavy breasts beginning to press down on her shelf-like stomach.

By the time Ja’heera finished the crate of pie, she was in a haze. She had lost track of how much she’d eaten, or how long she’d been in a feeding frenzy. Finally, that hunger ground to a halt, and the fullness of her stomach smacked her across the head.

She was packed. Stuffed to nearly bursting. Her hand settled on her stomach to try and soothe just how engorged she felt, only to find a hill of fat between her hand and the overfed organ below it. Her hand sunk into the soft flesh that now encompassed her body, squishing it slightly as she groped her own gut. It’d nearly grown to take over her knees, she noticed, but the spell’s effects wore off before she got that large. Another crate, she thought, and she’d have fattened up enough to completely obscure her kneecaps.

Ja’heera let out a soft groan, followed by a light burp as her body finally returned to normalcy, albeit with quite a lot of extra weight. She found herself exhausted, ready to sleep off her massive binge, even though the majority of it had already formed on her body as fat. She felt an extra hand groping at her body, the claws of another khajiit pinching at the most outward part of her huge belly.

“You are full, yes?” her captor asked, cackling as that hand traveled lower to poke and prod at Ja’heera’s widened hips. “This one thinks you will not be stealing from any more caravans.”

“Please,” Ja’heera begged. “This one won’t. She will never take what isn’t hers from this place. Just cancel the spell.”

“Cancel th - hehe,” her captor paused to giggle. “There is no canceling. No, no. This?” she said, giving Ja’heera’s stomach a firm swat, causing a ripple to roll through her body. “This is permanent.”

Ja’heera looked fit to start crying, but her captor stopped her before she could. “She will allow you to sleep,” she said, and Ja’heera was reminded of just how tired she was. “Then, you will pack your things - what is left of them - and leave this place. This one will give you some… appropriately sized clothing to do so, hm?”

Ja’heera bit her lip, looking down at the damage  done to her body. She put both hands on the sides of her newly grown stomach and squeezed in, feeling just how soft she’d grown.

She wasn’t going to argue. The wrong word, and she feared that her captor would fatten her up to the point she couldn’t leave.

“Agreed.”