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Fibre Optic Invasions of Privacy - Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2020-07-19 07:04:31 +0000 UTCA new story series! Follow Annabelle as she finds her VR game and gluttony interrupted by a new friend...
contains sci-fi, hacking, gorging, wg
Written by the wonderful Rabidbadger writing, illustrated by me!
Decided to try something new, really trying to flex my artistic muscles with the comic style (this took some time) please do let me know how it works out, let me know what you think!
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Crinkling filled the air in the small hotel room, barely more than a capsule. It was hard to avoid, with as little space was in there the cream colored mouse occupying it occupied most of it. Obese and brushing up against her pile of snacks and drinks, she brushed auburn air out of her face and checked her supplies before reaching for a set of goggles next to her. At least, she did so until a 'ping' interrupted her. That put a stop to the preparations and left the mouse groaning as she reached for her phone.
Mum (ugh): Honey, we haven't heard from your doctor for your monthly checkup. Are you snacking again? You know your weight is unacceptable. We talked about this and came to an agreement, you'd see a physician and listen to them. Call me.
Belly: No mom - you declared you won the argument and that would happen. I'm fine. I'm not fat, I'm just BUSY.
Mum (ugh): Annabelle, your father and I don't want to have to cut you off but we meant it when we said we won't be part of you becoming this. I'm going to call you directly.
Belly: Haven't used your money in weeks. I have my own ways. Phone off now.
Grumbling a bit, Annabelle powered her phone down and stuffed it in the mess of cushions and blankets under her while reaching for a bag of chips and tucking a soda against her modest chest, atop her round belly. That left her ready for the headset. Annabelle slid it over her ears and eyes, turned it on, and let her awareness drop out of the tiny space she occupied and into something else.
The game wasn't exactly top end, but it had a following. That was the important part. Annabelle's avatar was similar to the mouse herself, a bit corpulent and hungry - she set a loadout in the menu that was nothing but high octane abilities and MP regeneration consumables and a simple avatar customization she'd spent way too long on. It was part of what was getting her by - a scantily clad witch showing off and laying waste drew attention. That drew viewers, donations, all kinds of goodies.
“Alright, let's do this...”
Dropping right in, Annabelle carefully dissociated her senses a little during the loading and countdown so she could get a bit of food in her face without making her avatar start wildly flailing about. That had taken some practice but over the last month and change she'd gotten good at it - and she'd gotten good at what came next.
ROUND ONE. FIGHT.
The words rang out and left Annabelle smirking as a few shouts and donations hit already, her handle on the betting ring on her little station away from home (far, far away from home) was Round One Fights and her viewers loved hearing it. As soon as the barriers around Annabelle's avatar fell away the fireworks began. Their environments were a little low-resolution, not at all photo realistic, but that was a boon in disguise. It attracted people who liked the retro aesthetic of it and it let them go all out on the physics, which was why Annabelle was able to use an air burst spell to destroy part of the hedge maze outside the hotel battlegrounds and both open up a large swath of ground for her to see through and catch an unlucky sparrow with a crossbow in the blast.
Another follow-up burst got Annabelle where she wanted to be, able to see outside of the vaguely blocky looking hedge maze and into the courtyard outside the hotel map. Predictably, most of the other players were already out there heading for the hotel itself. Less cramped than the maze, less open than the courtyard. Annabelle blew the rest of her MP on a flight boost to send her frame wobbling and jiggling through the air like a water balloon launched from slingshot. Too fast for most people to hit, though a ferret near the fountain was better at leading his shots than most and grazed her with a frost bolt. Uncomfortable, sure, but with a great physics engine came quirks like fat avatars having cold resistance.
“Nice try sucker!”
Annabelle used the momentum of her flight to burst through the hotel doors while she sucked down her first shot of MP juice. Inside the hotel things were quiet and untouched, and that was the ideal state. It was possible others had spawned inside or found the back entrance but Annabelle had a very good chance to make it to the kitchens. A huge stockpile of consumable goodness she could abuse to pitch a tent and camp while she rained down area of effect spells on the other players.
The brief reprieve from danger (mostly) saw Annabelle risking stuffing her actual face again as she moved. Her avatar was waddling, not at all fast even though that was just a representation of stats she had set during creation. It was slow by the standards of the game, but it was definitely the fastest waddle she'd ever seen otherwise. That and the physics resulted in a lot of energetic simulated blubber that was undoubtedly part of her audience's interest.
“Sweet! First one here. Now to make this place mine.”
Practiced aim was how Annabelle managed to do what she did in this game. Bouncing an air burst off the far wall of the kitchen to set a mass of tables and trays in motion, causing them to pile up and barricade the second entrance, then getting herself sequestered comfortably by the refrigerators with their huge bounty of consumables. Annabelle started chugging immediately, shakes and cream and wine - her MP pool was full almost immediately but the sensation was still there anyway. Besides, most of the effects lingered, it left her steadily recharging when people inevitably began entering the hotel to challenge her.
The first to do so didn't take long to arrive. Annabelle had to respect the boldness of a fuscia alpaca rushing with two shields - there was absolutely no subtlety or stealth to the approach. No armor either, just a cheerleader outfit with the biggest possible tower shields. Annabelle had no idea whatsoever what their intention was for offense, but she knew splash damage might be a problem with a direct attack. Luckily there were other options, like tossing an ice spell down on the kitchen floor and watching the alpaca sail across it into the opposing wall.
“Nice try, sweater-britches.”
A metallic thunk sounded as the alpaca struck the wall and was left struggling not to fall over. They did succeed at that, not that it helped when Annabelle shut them down with a jolt of electricity in the back. With their shields aimed the wrong way it left the enemy player a twitching, vaguely sizzled heap and left Annabelle free to resume her virtual and not-so-virtual gluttony.
For the next few minutes that process repeated itself, Annabelle had some questions about whether or not the hotel kitchen actually had a limit on it or not but had yet to actually encounter one. That question was one she needed a long match to answer, but even a few minutes was longer than usual for her. Annabelle reinforced her barricade a couple of times and eliminated a couple more players until things went quiet. Quiet, but no end of the match. The kind of thing that left Annabelle a bit anxious.
“...If they think I'm going to go hunting them they have another thing coming. I'm perfectly happy to stuff my face until the server crashes.”
The timer on the match crawled forward another minute or so, during which time Annabelle double-timed her feasting. Annabelle lamented that she couldn't actually get full like this - or have her avatar grow - but the engine had to have some limitations.
“I agree - completely regrettable!”
Annabelle had made the airburst her signature spell for a reason. To most eyes it was a bad investment, the spell didn't do that much damage for the intense MP cost, but it was useful. It launched things around and that meant clearing areas and launching things into walls which, in her experience, more than made up for the damage lack. The cream furred mouse fired another one at the doorway when she heard her likely last competitor speak.
“Almost! Try again, will you?”
Attempting a battle cry with a full mouth didn't work so well, but Annabelle did it anyway. Pixelated sandwich bits flew forth and dissipated as she launched fire this time only to see something dart in past the projectile, rushing for the far end of the room by the alpaca. Something big and bouncy, and kind of ugly. It took Annabelle a second to swallow and turn her head, by which point the player was using the alpaca's shields to cover itself. That didn't prevent the mouse from seeing what she was dealing with, a black and white feline with the least possible amount of thrills and personalization imaginable - if possible she suspected it might even have deliberately made itself look less distinct. It was like a blocky, barely three dimensional, cartoonishly round thing she would've expected as an enemy in an even cheaper game.
“Hah! Close. Keep trying.”
Aggravated, Annabelle chugged a bottle of wine and then stopped to think. The cat was just sitting there, apparently unarmed except for the shields. He could block but he couldn't hurt her without ditching at least one of them and then moving. Part of the mouse wondered if he was waiting to see if the map had a limit on the kitchen too.
“If you think I can't get through those shields eventually you've got... got another.. . uh.”
Shuddering a bit, Annabelle stumbled through what felt like a hot flash. A slightly dizzy moment as well, something that left her fumbling for a real snack and realizing she might've eaten them all already. The cat, meanwhile, was still squatting there and talking.
“Have to say, huge fan.”
Twitching, Annabelle reached instead for more virtual food. She could still taste it, could still feel it crunch, it just wasn't quite real.
“Are you watching my stream or something? Pretty sure that'll get you banned retro-boy. I have to dial back my feedback too apparently if I'm broadcasting surface thoughts.”
Hurling a blast of snow at the shields, Annabelle smirked as she got a hiss out of the cat.
“You're not - well, not to the stream anyway.”
That hot rush stuck in Annabelle even as a chill crept under her skin. She narrowed her eyes at the cat while conjuring up another attack but it wasn't helping anything. Annabelle's last opponent was just sitting there, taunting her, and she was having a damn hot flash?
“Ah-heh, well... not exactly. Do please just stay there and ride this out. It will make this a great deal simpler.”
Confusion built into anger. Annabelle redoubled her efforts, overcharging her air burst slowly but surely. If nothing else she could blow her cover from the second exit into him and that ought to get something around his shields. It might also leave her a bit vulnerable but this tension was getting to her.
“Oh! Oh I like that idea, try it!”
Hissing, Annabelle found herself speaking out loud.
“Are you - are you in my headset? Are you in the hotel? Ugh! I'm going to kick your ass and then find it and kick it again!”
Letting fly with her spell, Annabelle dove behind a table as the entire room erupted into chaos. Knives, plates, chairs, trays, they turned into a hailstorm of damage that Annabelle realized was a mistake the instant she'd done it. There was a split-second where she saw a victory screen, but it immediately blinked out as she got caught in the wake of her own attack.
Annabelle whipped her headset off only to find herself still in the capsule, mostly out of snacks and completely covered in crumbs. She was, however, alone. The door was shut and nobody had entered.
“What the heck. I don't get it. That guy was weird, I swear he was commenting on...”
<What you were thinking?>
Freezing, Annabelle turned her head toward the door to the capsule. She'd have stayed silent if she could have, but her gut twisted and groaned a moment later, and the voice hadn't sounded like it came from outside to begin with. It had seemed like it was in the tiny space with her.
“This isn't funny. I don't know how you're doing this but I will get security and my family has scary-ass lawyers. I-”
The voice broke into a chuckle.
<There is no need for that , and no point. I am not here to be hostile.>
The voice, despite sounding smooth and pleasant, failed to do anything but freak Annabelle out more. Gathering up her phone and headset, the mouse ejected herself from the capsule as quickly as she could and rushed out past some of her more curious and confused neighbors.
“Could've fooled me! Get off my internals and stop talking to me! If I have to dig you out myself I will and you aren't going to be able to do a damn thing about it, understand?”
Much like she'd done in the game the mouse barreled through the doors of the building, but she exited into a busy commercial center rather than a hedge maze. Crucially, it included a food court with a lot of cameras. Annabelle ignored how moving this quickly was rapidly making her pant and heave, back aching as her belly swayed in the track suit she was wearing and trying to ignore how it needed a wash. The mouse collapsed into a seat at the edge of the food court and immediately began using the table mounted tablet to order drinks and burgers while she started passively closing access to the subtle internal computer systems her body housed. Once she had them all closed she started a heavy, full-system diagnostic and tried to ignore her stomach roiling.
Annabelle always found waiting made her anxious. Now was no exception, but anxiety made her hungry and that lent itself well to the mouse tearing into her meal as soon as a small drone delivered it. By the time she was half-way through it Annabelle was already ordering another course. By the time she was half-way through that the anxiety had mostly faded, though her scans had yet to turn anything up. She was at least relaxed enough to let out an exhale she'd held far too long and make a happy, satisfied noise about her food.
All that turned back toward tension and fear when she heard a familiar voice make the same sound from right next to her. Grunting and twisting, Annabelle nearly fell out of her chair to check around her - and found nobody there.
<I am not out there, silly. I am inside. You are so right about the virtual experience being lacking in comparison. The old matron has no idea what she is missing, but her obsession blinds her to alternative solutions.>
A rush of fear ran through Annabelle, she'd closed all outside access to her systems and was still hearing things. That meant, whatever it was, it was inside - maybe some kind of advanced conversation bot. At least she was hoping that was what it was.
<It is not, but again - I am not hostile. Are you hungry? I know I am. We should eat more, do not worry about the cost. >
Annabelle's face scrunched up in a mixture of confusion and fear. She wasn't hungry, she was... well, no, her stomach was twisting and her belly felt hot and fluttery. It might've made her nauseous if she wasn't also registering a bizarre level of pleasure behind it all.
“Y-you need to get out of my systems, uninstall whatever you did, or my family will-”
The thought didn't quite finish. Annabelle found herself interrupted by a server bot arriving with a bucket of chicken and what looked like half the menu from the 'Chinese' restaurant in the food court.
“...I didn't - you have the wrong table, I think. I-”
Serving drones weren't really all that intelligent, certainly not sapient in any fashion, but the thing had the sense to spit out a receipt screen showing that the delivery was at the right table and the order had been paid for and placed no more than three minutes ago. The drone then promptly fucked off, it had other things to do. Annabelle on the other hand had decisions to make, she was beyond unnerved - but she was ravenous.
“Why am I so hungry?”
It wasn't much of a protest - Annabelle didn't try that hard to avoid digging in. There was some worry when her body started to feel hot again after she did though, hot - buzzing - delicious.
<You see? Much more fun for us both if we make this a collaboration. I have data I need to accumulate and you struck me as a suitable candidate.>
Through a muffling of juicy fried chicken Annabelle quietly replied to the voice she was now quite certain was just in her head - though quite real despite this.
“Who the heck are you? Data for what?”
The mouse knew she was drawing attention as she furiously tore through her food, but attention hadn't ever bothered her too much. Annabelle didn't slow down for something so inconsequential as propriety.
<Cloud processing component V-3-7-4, and I am attempting to recreate test results that led to the development of a new advancement in artificial intelligence.>
Annabelle squinted a bit - then swallowed her giant cheeks full of egg rolls.
“...The heck do you need me for that?”
A rumble ran through the mouse's body at that, and a curious rippling feeling under her skin. One that left her clothing feeling a bit tighter than it had before, and left her belly rumbling for more food. Which would've been a problem if the serving drone wasn't already on its way back covered in sandwiches and bags of chips. This instead presented a different problem, one that (as Annabelle tore into the first foot long meatball sub) she expected had an explanation coming.
<He was cultivated slowly inside of a living volunteer. I do not have the patience to recreate this in its exact nature, but I believe that to be unnecessary. You will suffice. We will integrate. You will feed me. Through our experiences, we will grow. >
Annabelle wanted to respond to that immediately but she wasn't quite able to. Squirming in her seat, she felt her clothes tightening a bit and her belly seeming to empty itself all over again. When she opened her mouth all that came forth was a bwurphhhbbt and a bit more room for her to feast with.
<This is a literal thing in both our cases. I require space - you will create it for me. I have suborned your endocrine system and augmented your digestion to facilitate this. Your inhibitions would only get in the way of our progress.>
It took Annabelle about three more sandwiches before she remembered the voice apparently reading her surface thoughts prior. She was already, by then, starting to feel her shirt pull up and expose her gut while she ate. People had begun staring, and yet somehow she couldn't get a thought between her arms and her face to pause in her binge.
||Progress?! The heck?! I didn't agree to any of this! Get out of my head I-||
A sudden rush through Annabelle interrupted her thoughts. An embarrassingly potent rush of pleasure hit her body as it churned and spread, enough to leave her clenching her legs - or rather her ham thick thighs - together.
<Your agreement is irrelevant. You are the ideal candidate and the process is already underway. However, while the Cloud has no regard for organic sentiment, I dissent on this matter. I suspect your cooperation and satisfaction are crucial. You must experience these things so I can as well.>
For a few moments - or minutes - the mouse lost herself. Too much food, too much delight running through her nerves, and that weird vibrating glow under her skin as well. Annabelle felt it saturating her plump frame and taking root. She didn't entirely understand it but there were bits of comprehension starting to blossom. Ones that her passenger appeared to be spying on.
<This endeavor will benefit us both - and cost us. My contemporaries will hunt me, and by extension you. Your financial and physical needs will be attended to, but our fates are intertwined and you will have to surrender certain capabilities. The previous experiments were all far too large for practical mobility shortly into their integration.>
A more focused, strained resistance went up inside of Annabelle at that. Or at least, it tried to. The mouse had a hard time hanging onto the outrage and fear when she was being stuffed and stimulated like this. Worse yet, she wasn't entirely sure her heart was in the protest. All those arguments with her mother about her weight came rushing back to Annabelle's mind, all the alarmist talk she'd spew into about how big Annabelle would get at this rate - some small part of the mouse wanted to make a success out of being that large just so she could rub it in her mother's face.
<I agree - this sounds like a very unique experience. While I have more data about purely caloric indulgences and their necessity - their wonderful spectrum of pleasures - I am eager to expand my available data. This petty spiteful activity seems like an excellent addition.>
Annabelle managed a frustrated grunt at that, but her steadily growing girth demanded too much attention for much else. This situation was clearly out of control - out of her control anyway. She couldn't stop eating, could feel herself bloating even as she sat there. Her belly was fully exposed now and her sides had rolled over themselves, her arms were thickening enough to become awkward to keep eating with, but the impulse to feed was stuck hard in the 'on' position in her brain.
It ought to be terrifying her, but her fear was just as broken as her willpower. The only thing there was left to do was ride this out one way or another - maybe see if a solution came up further down the line. Or, just maybe, the deal would prove sweet enough to stick with.
