HOME | DD

Description
A Demon’s Dinner
by Miss Mouse
    NOTICE: This story contains harmless, non-explicit bursting (It's all in good fun). If that ain’t your thing, keep movin’.
    “Bacon and eggs with a side of toast.” Bea’s voice rang out clearly over the general hubbub of the diner as she dropped off another order and picked up a plate of hash browns.
    “Ugh, don’t say ‘eggs,’” Ulula groaned piteously. She shuffled and picked an egg out of the drawer, having to keep herself turned sideways to reach the griddle around her large belly. Of the three pregnant workers, she was the worst off, having entered a particularly bountiful laying season and not having had time to properly take care of it. She and Bea would have time off in a few days, but until then she just had to make the best of things. If she got much bigger, though, they’d have to find her a bigger apron…
    “I know it’s hard, but just try and keep your chin up, alright?” Bea didn’t remind her that she, too, was dealing with her own egg-based pregnancy, though the Mimic egg she carried was not as big as Ulula’s clutch, and she was taller and stronger besides.
    Bea added the hash browns to her tray and turned, putting on her best smile and ignoring Ulula’s sounds of exasperation. To be fair, they were quite understaffed and Ulula was the only one at the grill. She made a note in her head to pick up something nice for dinner when they got off work.
    Picking up a pot of coffee in her free hand, Beatrix waddled out from behind the counter, puffing a little bit with the effort. She’d gotten quite big in just a few weeks and hadn’t really had time to adapt to her burden, so the dinner rush often left her out of breath and needing to sit down. In fact, if the Tum-Trust Diner hadn’t keep a ready stock of uniforms in all sizes and stages of pregnancy on hand, she wouldn’t have had anything to wear to work.
    As she turned to go around the end of the counter, she nearly collided with Hazel, who was on her way to drop off another order.
    “Oops, sorry, Bea,” she apologized, chewing gum as she usually did. She brushed her dark-blonde hair behind her ear. “Want me to take that for you?”
    “Thanks, but I’ve got this.” Bea liked Hazel, even if she occasionally got distracted talking to Sêr. She was still a diligent worker, and she pulled more than her own weight right now, being the only non-pregnant member of their shift team on duty.
    “Alright, but lemme know if you change your mind.” Hazel ducked around her and went to the order window to quickly drop off the order before going to say something to Sêr as she sat behind the cash register.
    Seeing the two of them together made Bea happy.
    Work kept Beatrix quite busy, waddling to and fro, refilling drinks, taking orders…there was always more to do, and it only got harder as she got bigger. She didn’t envy Ulula, being so small and so pregnant, but surely standing at a grill must be easier than maneuvering around all these customers. It was hotter, though.
    And every one seemed to say,
    “Oh, how far along are you?”
    “Really? Wow! How many have you got in there?”
    “Only one? Are you sure?”
    It was the same thing over and over again, and between the endlessly repeated questions and people asking if they could touch her belly, even Bea found herself getting impatient and short.
    “Ma’am,” she smiled politely at the older woman. “I’ve just been to the doctor and I assure you that everything is alright.” You’d think none of these people had ever been here before, how astounded they were at out-of-the-norm pregnancies. “Now, if we could get back on the topic of your desert. Coffee and pie, was it?”
    Just then, the bell above the door tinkled and in walked a Demoness. Bea groaned and hid her face in her tray. There was a whole host (legion?) of Demonesses that staffed the diner, but they all worked together on a different shift and so Bea rarely had to put up with their antics. Still, from time-to-time, one would come in to eat on an off day and it never ended well.
    She recognized this one, an unusually short and flat-chested Demoness with fluffy hair and horns that curled back along her head. Bea thought her name was Ovis or Ovid or something.
    The Demoness stood for a moment just inside the door and scratched her smallish pregnant belly idly, seemingly completely disinterested in being there.
    “Hi there, can I help you with something?” She put on her best Service-Work Smile and pretended she wasn’t dreading the answer.
    The diminutive fiend hardly glanced at Bea, electing instead to wander over to the nearest booth and sit down at it, all by herself. Bea followed, pulling out her notepad to take an order.
    “What can I get for you…?” She awkwardly avoided guessing at her co-worker’s name.
    There was a pause as the Demoness stared disinterestedly out the dark window beside the booth. Sêr’s register let out a kaCHING as she completed a sale.
    “Bacon and eggs.” The fiend had a small voice, matching her short stature. She still looked out the window, her chin resting on her hand, her elbow on the table.
    “Would you like them as sides or a meal?”
    “Platter.”
    “Are you—” Bea looked nervously between the booth and the door. “Are you expecting company?”
    Now the Demoness turned and looked Beatrix dead in the eye, her dark sclera glinting in the artificial lights. Bea wondered suddenly if her ram-like horns were meant to be used in combat.
    “Bacon and eggs. Platter.” She said with such finality that Bea didn’t dare stick around for further questions.
    “Right away, miss,” Bea turned and almost tripped over herself to go deliver the order.
    She hurried back behind the counter as quickly as she could, sticking her head into the order window and hissing to get Ulula’s attention.
    “Lu! We’ve got an issue.”
    “What’s up?” Ulula turned her crested head back to look over her shoulder in a very owl-like manner.
    “One of the girls from the graveyard shift just showed up and ordered a bacon and egg platter for herself; I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
    Ulula gave a hooting groan.
    “There’s only one hour left before we’re off, what’s the worst that could happen?”
    Bea looked furtively back to the booth where the Demon sat awaiting her six-person breakfast dish, and found the guest staring daggers at her.
    She let out a small “eep” of fear.
    “If it gets bad, call Abigail.”
    “I really don’t want to bother her this late.”
    Ulula just shrugged and moved the omelette she was making onto a plate, turned slowly to the window and waddled over to set it on the ledge.
    “Order up!”
    Hazel was there immediately, picking up the plate and putting it on her tray.
    “Oh, Hazel, I need to take you up on that offer of help; could you handle Table #4 for me? I’ve got a feeling I’m going to be dealing with some stuff at Table #1.”
    Hazel looked over to Table #1 and shivered.
    “Sure thing, Bea.”
    “Her name is O’vix.” Sêr’s voice was soft, but audible as she sat perched atop her stool at the register. “She busses tables and washes dishes.”
    “Thanks, I’ll remember that.”
    Beatrix got a cup of coffee and dropped it off at O’vix’s table with a smile and some reassuring words that her meal would be ready shortly, and then quickly moved on to her other tables before she had a chance to say anything.
    Her plan was to have as little interaction with O’vix as possible, which she hoped would minimize the chance of her causing any problems, but even as she thought about that she wondered if leaving her unsupervised was really the best idea…
    It had only been a couple of minutes when she heard the ding of the bell and Ulula’s melodic voice hoot “order up!”
    Hazel was already behind the counter and she picked it up, passing it to Bea so she didn’t have to walk all the way around. Bea nodded in thanks and Hazel returned an encouraging thumbs-up.
    “Here you go! One bacon and egg platter, just for you.”
    O’vix didn’t respond, just picked up a fork and—holding it tines-down as though wielding a dagger—began to noisily stab and gobble her pile of bacon and eggs. It was loud enough to draw the attention of nearby customers, who looked on in disgust and murmured to each other quietly.
    Bea quietly excused herself from the scene and went to wait on other tables, though she found herself looking back towards O’vix from time to time, checking in as the small Demon stuffed herself silly with more bacon and eggs than Bea could ever imagine eating by herself.
    It was really quite impressive, and had that train wreck-quality that just demands you to watch it happen.
    In only a matter of minutes, she was done and impatiently glaring at Bea to come by and wait on her again. The little Demon was a bit bigger than she was before, her previously only-slightly rounded belly now sticking out from her small frame like a basketball. Her T-shirt—an oversized and food-stained one which proclaimed “I donated blood and all I got was this crummy shirt” (which Bea highly doubted)—was now pressed tight against her belly and her popped-out navel was clearly visible through the heather-grey fabric.
    “Ready for your check?” Bea asked with an almost-pleading smile.
    “I want dessert. And more coffee.”
    “Would you like to see the menu?”
    “Pie.”
    “Alright then, cherry? Apple? Ulula just finished making a fresh apple pie.”
    “Preggoberry.”
    Bea immediately had a very bad feeling.
    “Are you sure? We uh, we usually don’t recommend our pregnant patrons eat that.”
    “All of it.”
    “Pardon?”
    “I want all the preggoberry pie.”
    “For here, or to go?” Bea grabbed at one last thread of hope.
    “Here.”
    “...certainly.” She left without asking if O’vix wanted that a la mode, which she probably would just to be difficult.
    She trudged back around to the kitchen window, doing her best to postpone filling what was sure to be a problem-causing order.
    “Hey, Ulula, how much preggoberry pie do we have ready?”
    “Just whatever’s out on the pie-plate. I’m about to put another one in the oven, though.”
    “Don’t bother; I don’t want to give this girl any more ammunition than she already has.”
    As it turned out, there were about one and a half preggoberry pies sitting on the glass display, and although that was more than she wanted to serve the Demoness, Bea was at least thankful it wasn’t more.
    Still, she shuddered at the thought of eating that much preggoberry pie, herself.
    “Here you go,” she said with a smile as she unloaded the two pie tins from her tray, not bothering to put the pie on plates. “Enjoy.” She slipped back to another table, making idle conversation with another customer to avoid being subjected to any of O’vix’s forthcoming shenanigans.
    O’vix didn’t seem to mind her abandonment, having turned her attention entirely to the one and a half pies sitting before her. Whereas she had previously devoured her platter of bacon and eggs like some sort of starved animal, O’vix now took her time, savoring each bite as she ate her pie in an almost-polite manner. She didn’t even make a mess as she did it.
    The effects were not immediate; Preggoberries have a way of sneaking up on you, so you don’t really realize how much you’ve had until it’s too late. By the time she finished eating what would have been her second slice (had the pie been sliced into individual pieces), her belly began to swell again, this time a quick and steady expansion as the berries went to work.
    It wasn’t long until her oversized T-shirt was riding up on her belly, which was quickly overfilling her lap as she sat cross-legged in the booth. She readjusted, turned sideways to make room, and continued eating.
    Bea watched from a distance, wondering where the Demon put it all, and marveling at the pace she kept even as her womb filled more and more with whatever preggoberries made Demons pregnant with. The little Fiend gave no indication of any discomfort, even as her belly grew out past her knees, she just rolled her shirt up beneath her diminutive breasts and stroked her overstretched skin with her free hand.
    This continued for quite some time, and Beatrix did her best to monitor the situation while she worked, always keeping O’vix in the corner of her eye. By the time the whole pie was a quarter finished, she had turned herself forward once more, but was now kneeling on the bench so that her belly rested on the table.
    Bea couldn’t imagine being comfortable in that position, but the Demon was quickly reaching sizes that Bea couldn’t imagine being comfortable at all. She was beginning to cause a scene, and more than one patron was looking in her direction, watching the show.
    O’vix seemed to pay no attention to anyone but herself and her pie.
    “Wow, that girl can really go at it.” Ulula watched from the kitchen window.
    “It’s super gross,” Hazel said with a tone of disgust. “Demons are so shameless.”
    “...I’ll go get the sign.” Bea opened a cabinet under the counter and brought out a small, white sign which read “For the Comfort of Other Guests, Please Refrain from Lewd Acts during Your Meal,” in a polite, sans-serif font. And then below that: “Thank You,” in a ridiculously frilly cursive.
    It was a sign mainly employed when Demons were visiting during the day time. The sign’s reverse side said “Enjoy Yourself ” and Bea had to assume that was intended for the night shift.
    She placed the sign on the counter next to the register and had Sêr print O’vix’s ticket up.
    “Be careful, Bea.” Sêr’s voice was low amid the mounting hubbub of the diner. “This one knows what she’s doing.”
    Bea nodded seriously as she picked up the ticket; Sêr knew about this kind of thing; she was in tune with all sorts of dark forces, given her habit of birthing them.
    She took a deep breath as she approached the booth, rehearsing the exchange in her head.
    “I went ahead and printed up your ticket, hun. Will that, uhh,” she hesitated, distracted momentarily by a rather violent push from within the Demon’s belly. She’d finished the pie and Bea thought her growth might have been accelerating, quickly reaching at least four feet in diameter. “Will that be cash or check?”
    JOIN ME.
    “Pardon?”
    JOIN ME, BEATRIX.
    “Uhh,” Bea realized that the Demon’s mouth was moving, but not along with the words she was hearing. It wasn’t O’vix’s voice, either—or not the one that she normally used, at least.
    ENTER INTO MY COVENANT. THROUGH MY BOND THERE IS POWER.
    FILL AND GROW, BEATRIX.
    “I’ll just leave this here,” Bea set the ticket on the table and quickly turned to leave, ignoring as the voice repeated FILL AND GROW behind her.
    She didn’t look back until she was safely behind the counter, and by that point, O’vix’s belly was a great, shining balloon, pink and seeming to glow from within. Everyone watched as it wobbled back and forth—the table groaning under its weight—easily twice the size of the girl it was attached to. Shapes moved beneath the skin, giving the orb juts and angles, grotesque serpentines coiling and writhing amid the chaos.
    O’vix arched her back, sinking deeper into the bench as she revelled in her size. The table was now tilted at an angle and pushed somewhat away, the Demon’s bulk reaching such a size that it pressed up against the window beside the booth.
    She gave a long, hissing exhale through her fangs, and steam issued forth from her mouth, curling into demoniacal faces as it dissipated. Smoke crept along her skin, rising slowly in faint streamers.
    The lights dimmed—dark shadow-forms rising in the corners of the diner, accompanied by chanting voices and the fluttering of strange wings. O’vix shined, her ghost-pale skin glistening with sweat and strain as her belly grew beyond any sensible limit. It was a great, writhing orb, threatening to overwhelm her, and she laughed a ringing, villainous laugh as she was undone, her skin alighting in sparks, and her whole being going up in flame.
    Hazel was ready, hopping the counter and dousing the ruined booth with a fire extinguisher. Smoke and extinguisher fog filled the air, an army of scrabbling imps fleeing from beneath the shroud like bugs from an overturned log. The implings—no two quite the same in their shape, and most being covered in foam from the extinguisher—crowded up against the doors to the diner, piling on top of each other until the mound was big enough to grab the handle and push, spilling the lot of them out into the parking lot where they wandered off to make mischief in the world.
    “Ugh, they do not pay us enough to deal with this crap.” Hazel sounded like she’d just run a mile.
    “I’ll text Abigail,” said Bea. “Y’know, to make sure that this comes out of HER paycheck.”

;) (Wink) — Description
A Demon’s Dinner
by Miss Mouse
    NOTICE: This story contains harmless, non-explicit bursting (It's all in good fun). If that ain’t your thing, keep movin’.
    “Bacon and eggs with a side of toast.” Bea’s voice rang out clearly over the general hubbub of the diner as she dropped off another order and picked up a plate of hash browns.
    “Ugh, don’t say ‘eggs,’” Ulula groaned piteously. She shuffled and picked an egg out of the drawer, having to keep herself turned sideways to reach the griddle around her large belly. Of the three pregnant workers, she was the worst off, having entered a particularly bountiful laying season and not having had time to properly take care of it. She and Bea would have time off in a few days, but until then she just had to make the best of things. If she got much bigger, though, they’d have to find her a bigger apron…
    “I know it’s hard, but just try and keep your chin up, alright?” Bea didn’t remind her that she, too, was dealing with her own egg-based pregnancy, though the Mimic egg she carried was not as big as Ulula’s clutch, and she was taller and stronger besides.
    Bea added the hash browns to her tray and turned, putting on her best smile and ignoring Ulula’s sounds of exasperation. To be fair, they were quite understaffed and Ulula was the only one at the grill. She made a note in her head to pick up something nice for dinner when they got off work.
    Picking up a pot of coffee in her free hand, Beatrix waddled out from behind the counter, puffing a little bit with the effort. She’d gotten quite big in just a few weeks and hadn’t really had time to adapt to her burden, so the dinner rush often left her out of breath and needing to sit down. In fact, if the Tum-Trust Diner hadn’t keep a ready stock of uniforms in all sizes and stages of pregnancy on hand, she wouldn’t have had anything to wear to work.
    As she turned to go around the end of the counter, she nearly collided with Hazel, who was on her way to drop off another order.
    “Oops, sorry, Bea,” she apologized, chewing gum as she usually did. She brushed her dark-blonde hair behind her ear. “Want me to take that for you?”
    “Thanks, but I’ve got this.” Bea liked Hazel, even if she occasionally got distracted talking to Sêr. She was still a diligent worker, and she pulled more than her own weight right now, being the only non-pregnant member of their shift team on duty.
    “Alright, but lemme know if you change your mind.” Hazel ducked around her and went to the order window to quickly drop off the order before going to say something to Sêr as she sat behind the cash register.
    Seeing the two of them together made Bea happy.
    Work kept Beatrix quite busy, waddling to and fro, refilling drinks, taking orders…there was always more to do, and it only got harder as she got bigger. She didn’t envy Ulula, being so small and so pregnant, but surely standing at a grill must be easier than maneuvering around all these customers. It was hotter, though.
    And every one seemed to say,
    “Oh, how far along are you?”
    “Really? Wow! How many have you got in there?”
    “Only one? Are you sure?”
    It was the same thing over and over again, and between the endlessly repeated questions and people asking if they could touch her belly, even Bea found herself getting impatient and short.
    “Ma’am,” she smiled politely at the older woman. “I’ve just been to the doctor and I assure you that everything is alright.” You’d think none of these people had ever been here before, how astounded they were at out-of-the-norm pregnancies. “Now, if we could get back on the topic of your desert. Coffee and pie, was it?”
    Just then, the bell above the door tinkled and in walked a Demoness. Bea groaned and hid her face in her tray. There was a whole host (legion?) of Demonesses that staffed the diner, but they all worked together on a different shift and so Bea rarely had to put up with their antics. Still, from time-to-time, one would come in to eat on an off day and it never ended well.
    She recognized this one, an unusually short and flat-chested Demoness with fluffy hair and horns that curled back along her head. Bea thought her name was Ovis or Ovid or something.
    The Demoness stood for a moment just inside the door and scratched her smallish pregnant belly idly, seemingly completely disinterested in being there.
    “Hi there, can I help you with something?” She put on her best Service-Work Smile and pretended she wasn’t dreading the answer.
    The diminutive fiend hardly glanced at Bea, electing instead to wander over to the nearest booth and sit down at it, all by herself. Bea followed, pulling out her notepad to take an order.
    “What can I get for you…?” She awkwardly avoided guessing at her co-worker’s name.
    There was a pause as the Demoness stared disinterestedly out the dark window beside the booth. Sêr’s register let out a kaCHING as she completed a sale.
    “Bacon and eggs.” The fiend had a small voice, matching her short stature. She still looked out the window, her chin resting on her hand, her elbow on the table.
    “Would you like them as sides or a meal?”
    “Platter.”
    “Are you—” Bea looked nervously between the booth and the door. “Are you expecting company?”
    Now the Demoness turned and looked Beatrix dead in the eye, her dark sclera glinting in the artificial lights. Bea wondered suddenly if her ram-like horns were meant to be used in combat.
    “Bacon and eggs. Platter.” She said with such finality that Bea didn’t dare stick around for further questions.
    “Right away, miss,” Bea turned and almost tripped over herself to go deliver the order.
    She hurried back behind the counter as quickly as she could, sticking her head into the order window and hissing to get Ulula’s attention.
    “Lu! We’ve got an issue.”
    “What’s up?” Ulula turned her crested head back to look over her shoulder in a very owl-like manner.
    “One of the girls from the graveyard shift just showed up and ordered a bacon and egg platter for herself; I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
    Ulula gave a hooting groan.
    “There’s only one hour left before we’re off, what’s the worst that could happen?”
    Bea looked furtively back to the booth where the Demon sat awaiting her six-person breakfast dish, and found the guest staring daggers at her.
    She let out a small “eep” of fear.
    “If it gets bad, call Abigail.”
    “I really don’t want to bother her this late.”
    Ulula just shrugged and moved the omelette she was making onto a plate, turned slowly to the window and waddled over to set it on the ledge.
    “Order up!”
    Hazel was there immediately, picking up the plate and putting it on her tray.
    “Oh, Hazel, I need to take you up on that offer of help; could you handle Table #4 for me? I’ve got a feeling I’m going to be dealing with some stuff at Table #1.”
    Hazel looked over to Table #1 and shivered.
    “Sure thing, Bea.”
    “Her name is O’vix.” Sêr’s voice was soft, but audible as she sat perched atop her stool at the register. “She busses tables and washes dishes.”
    “Thanks, I’ll remember that.”
    Beatrix got a cup of coffee and dropped it off at O’vix’s table with a smile and some reassuring words that her meal would be ready shortly, and then quickly moved on to her other tables before she had a chance to say anything.
    Her plan was to have as little interaction with O’vix as possible, which she hoped would minimize the chance of her causing any problems, but even as she thought about that she wondered if leaving her unsupervised was really the best idea…
    It had only been a couple of minutes when she heard the ding of the bell and Ulula’s melodic voice hoot “order up!”
    Hazel was already behind the counter and she picked it up, passing it to Bea so she didn’t have to walk all the way around. Bea nodded in thanks and Hazel returned an encouraging thumbs-up.
    “Here you go! One bacon and egg platter, just for you.”
    O’vix didn’t respond, just picked up a fork and—holding it tines-down as though wielding a dagger—began to noisily stab and gobble her pile of bacon and eggs. It was loud enough to draw the attention of nearby customers, who looked on in disgust and murmured to each other quietly.
    Bea quietly excused herself from the scene and went to wait on other tables, though she found herself looking back towards O’vix from time to time, checking in as the small Demon stuffed herself silly with more bacon and eggs than Bea could ever imagine eating by herself.
    It was really quite impressive, and had that train wreck-quality that just demands you to watch it happen.
    In only a matter of minutes, she was done and impatiently glaring at Bea to come by and wait on her again. The little Demon was a bit bigger than she was before, her previously only-slightly rounded belly now sticking out from her small frame like a basketball. Her T-shirt—an oversized and food-stained one which proclaimed “I donated blood and all I got was this crummy shirt” (which Bea highly doubted)—was now pressed tight against her belly and her popped-out navel was clearly visible through the heather-grey fabric.
    “Ready for your check?” Bea asked with an almost-pleading smile.
    “I want dessert. And more coffee.”
    “Would you like to see the menu?”
    “Pie.”
    “Alright then, cherry? Apple? Ulula just finished making a fresh apple pie.”
    “Preggoberry.”
    Bea immediately had a very bad feeling.
    “Are you sure? We uh, we usually don’t recommend our pregnant patrons eat that.”
    “All of it.”
    “Pardon?”
    “I want all the preggoberry pie.”
    “For here, or to go?” Bea grabbed at one last thread of hope.
    “Here.”
    “...certainly.” She left without asking if O’vix wanted that a la mode, which she probably would just to be difficult.
    She trudged back around to the kitchen window, doing her best to postpone filling what was sure to be a problem-causing order.
    “Hey, Ulula, how much preggoberry pie do we have ready?”
    “Just whatever’s out on the pie-plate. I’m about to put another one in the oven, though.”
    “Don’t bother; I don’t want to give this girl any more ammunition than she already has.”
    As it turned out, there were about one and a half preggoberry pies sitting on the glass display, and although that was more than she wanted to serve the Demoness, Bea was at least thankful it wasn’t more.
    Still, she shuddered at the thought of eating that much preggoberry pie, herself.
    “Here you go,” she said with a smile as she unloaded the two pie tins from her tray, not bothering to put the pie on plates. “Enjoy.” She slipped back to another table, making idle conversation with another customer to avoid being subjected to any of O’vix’s forthcoming shenanigans.
    O’vix didn’t seem to mind her abandonment, having turned her attention entirely to the one and a half pies sitting before her. Whereas she had previously devoured her platter of bacon and eggs like some sort of starved animal, O’vix now took her time, savoring each bite as she ate her pie in an almost-polite manner. She didn’t even make a mess as she did it.
    The effects were not immediate; Preggoberries have a way of sneaking up on you, so you don’t really realize how much you’ve had until it’s too late. By the time she finished eating what would have been her second slice (had the pie been sliced into individual pieces), her belly began to swell again, this time a quick and steady expansion as the berries went to work.
    It wasn’t long until her oversized T-shirt was riding up on her belly, which was quickly overfilling her lap as she sat cross-legged in the booth. She readjusted, turned sideways to make room, and continued eating.
    Bea watched from a distance, wondering where the Demon put it all, and marveling at the pace she kept even as her womb filled more and more with whatever preggoberries made Demons pregnant with. The little Fiend gave no indication of any discomfort, even as her belly grew out past her knees, she just rolled her shirt up beneath her diminutive breasts and stroked her overstretched skin with her free hand.
    This continued for quite some time, and Beatrix did her best to monitor the situation while she worked, always keeping O’vix in the corner of her eye. By the time the whole pie was a quarter finished, she had turned herself forward once more, but was now kneeling on the bench so that her belly rested on the table.
    Bea couldn’t imagine being comfortable in that position, but the Demon was quickly reaching sizes that Bea couldn’t imagine being comfortable at all. She was beginning to cause a scene, and more than one patron was looking in her direction, watching the show.
    O’vix seemed to pay no attention to anyone but herself and her pie.
    “Wow, that girl can really go at it.” Ulula watched from the kitchen window.
    “It’s super gross,” Hazel said with a tone of disgust. “Demons are so shameless.”
    “...I’ll go get the sign.” Bea opened a cabinet under the counter and brought out a small, white sign which read “For the Comfort of Other Guests, Please Refrain from Lewd Acts during Your Meal,” in a polite, sans-serif font. And then below that: “Thank You,” in a ridiculously frilly cursive.
    It was a sign mainly employed when Demons were visiting during the day time. The sign’s reverse side said “Enjoy Yourself ” and Bea had to assume that was intended for the night shift.
    She placed the sign on the counter next to the register and had Sêr print O’vix’s ticket up.
    “Be careful, Bea.” Sêr’s voice was low amid the mounting hubbub of the diner. “This one knows what she’s doing.”
    Bea nodded seriously as she picked up the ticket; Sêr knew about this kind of thing; she was in tune with all sorts of dark forces, given her habit of birthing them.
    She took a deep breath as she approached the booth, rehearsing the exchange in her head.
    “I went ahead and printed up your ticket, hun. Will that, uhh,” she hesitated, distracted momentarily by a rather violent push from within the Demon’s belly. She’d finished the pie and Bea thought her growth might have been accelerating, quickly reaching at least four feet in diameter. “Will that be cash or check?”
    JOIN ME.
    “Pardon?”
    JOIN ME, BEATRIX.
    “Uhh,” Bea realized that the Demon’s mouth was moving, but not along with the words she was hearing. It wasn’t O’vix’s voice, either—or not the one that she normally used, at least.
    ENTER INTO MY COVENANT. THROUGH MY BOND THERE IS POWER.
    FILL AND GROW, BEATRIX.
    “I’ll just leave this here,” Bea set the ticket on the table and quickly turned to leave, ignoring as the voice repeated FILL AND GROW behind her.
    She didn’t look back until she was safely behind the counter, and by that point, O’vix’s belly was a great, shining balloon, pink and seeming to glow from within. Everyone watched as it wobbled back and forth—the table groaning under its weight—easily twice the size of the girl it was attached to. Shapes moved beneath the skin, giving the orb juts and angles, grotesque serpentines coiling and writhing amid the chaos.
    O’vix arched her back, sinking deeper into the bench as she revelled in her size. The table was now tilted at an angle and pushed somewhat away, the Demon’s bulk reaching such a size that it pressed up against the window beside the booth.
    She gave a long, hissing exhale through her fangs, and steam issued forth from her mouth, curling into demoniacal faces as it dissipated. Smoke crept along her skin, rising slowly in faint streamers.
    The lights dimmed—dark shadow-forms rising in the corners of the diner, accompanied by chanting voices and the fluttering of strange wings. O’vix shined, her ghost-pale skin glistening with sweat and strain as her belly grew beyond any sensible limit. It was a great, writhing orb, threatening to overwhelm her, and she laughed a ringing, villainous laugh as she was undone, her skin alighting in sparks, and her whole being going up in flame.
    Hazel was ready, hopping the counter and dousing the ruined booth with a fire extinguisher. Smoke and extinguisher fog filled the air, an army of scrabbling imps fleeing from beneath the shroud like bugs from an overturned log. The implings—no two quite the same in their shape, and most being covered in foam from the extinguisher—crowded up against the doors to the diner, piling on top of each other until the mound was big enough to grab the handle and push, spilling the lot of them out into the parking lot where they wandered off to make mischief in the world.
    “Ugh, they do not pay us enough to deal with this crap.” Hazel sounded like she’d just run a mile.
    “I’ll text Abigail,” said Bea. “Y’know, to make sure that this comes out of HER paycheck.”