"And an unrepentant glutton. And god, is it so fucking hot."

"You are an odd duck patê."

"If finding women like you insanely attractive is weird, there's something wrong with normal people."

"It's an epidemic."

"God I'm so fucking wet right now."

"Silly streudel, the moisture is supposed to be on the outside of the submarine." She pats her on the head and saunters off for the control room where she will be driving the sub.

Is anyone watching, because she really wants to just get herself off right here and now.

Yup, there's a goon tidying up the dishes.

Fuck. Off to her bedroom she goes. She sprawls out on her bed and lowers a hand to her nethers. She doesn't even need to scroll through tumblr. Nothing there could possibly compare to the reality of the situation she's in. She fantasizes about feeling her form swelling and expanding, flesh rising like dough until there's twice as much fat in her body as there is anything else. She wants to be big. She wants her body to sprawl out like a city undergoing suburbanization, to  feel it occupy more and more space like she's the queen of a burgeoning empire rapidly swallowing up territory. She wants to feel her gut slapping against her thighs when she walks. She wants to be able to eat enough to give Mo a run for her money. She wants to feel their massive bellies and thighs squishing together when they make love. She wants people's eyes to be naturally drawn to her because she simply takes up thrice as much space in their field of view as everyone else. She wants it all so fucking bad it almost physically hurts. After a long and intense session, she takes advantage of the afterglow to get some exercise in. Mo may be making sure she fattens up whether she likes it or not, but she's not gonna be able to carry her vast bulk with the grace and ease she craves unless she puts in the work. Then the endorphins and the thought of how hot this is gonna be when her belly is getting in the way and she can feel the sweat drip down her rolls and how if she keeps this up she's gonna be built like a fucking tank make her horny again and she has another go at herself. After  that, and a quick bath and change of clothes, and possibly some miscellaneous gaming and Eris chatting, it is presumably time for dinner.

It is! Dinner is spicy beef stew covered with cheese in bread bowls.

Ooooohhhh tasty. Being cooped up in here is going far better than Katie expected. "What kind of cheese is this?"

"Oh, cheddar, but like, the really good stuff from within a few miles of Wells Cathedral."

"Where is that? Is that like, in the town in England the cheese is from?"

"Cheddar comes from Cheddar, the cathedral is the traditional center of the area in which valid cheddar may be produced."

"Oh. Huh. Kinda like the Thirty Mile Zone the gossip website is named after. I don't think I've ever had actual Cheddar from Cheddar."

"I like some of what they do in Wisconsin etcetera too, mind."

"Yeah, I've had some Irish cheddar that's pretty good." She feels a slight twinge of resentment at the mention of Wisconsin but she's not gonna let it show.

"Ireland's where I get most of my butter."

"Can you make butter out of whale milk?"

"Yeah, but the texture doesn't work for most applications."

"I see." She isn't finished with the stew, but she's already taking bites out of the rim of the bread bowl. It's so damn good and she doesn't want it to go cold. She silently thanks the anonymous caveperson who invented bread.

There's herbs in it. The bread itself tastes slightly brothy.

"What's in this bread? I didn't even know it was possible to bake fresh bread on a submarine."

"Sure it is. You need an electric oven but you can bake bread in an electric oven."

Nom nom nom. Slorp slorp slorp. Chomp chomp chomp. Buuuurrrrppppp.