Vita - God of Abundance

"Are you sure you want to keep going, Ms. Dark?"

"You're asking me that now? More!"

"If I keep going, it might get all over your clothes!"

"Do I look like I care? Don't hold back! Load me up with that hot, sticky cream!"

The voices of two women echoed from the central kitchen through the exterior halls of the well reputed Blessed Bread Works Bakery, reaching the ears of one of the place's brown-and-white uniformed guardsmen. The so-called Bakery Men, dressed and designated much like the King's Guard in front of Buckingham Palace recognizable from Earth, were the place's only occupants besides the goddess/baker herself, and they were ordinarily called to do very little besides stand around. That meant that, despite their predisposed, goddess-given loyalty and sense of work ethic, they couldn't help but obey the human side of them that wanted to eavesdrop a little. It was rare for their master to get any visitors... and what a visitor she'd gotten this time. Two guardsmen leaned up against the entrance and peeked through, eyes focused on the unusual sight.

Evanore Dark, the God of Necromancy, was everything their master was not: haughty, with her head absorbed in her own godhood, and standoffish to everything and everyone as was her right as one of the strongest gods in all of the universes. She made up for these negative traits, like many other gods, by being hot as hell, with purple hair styled in the classic goth bangs, dark makeup and black lipstick matching her nails, and a black-and-gold cloak parted to reveal a black button-up. The collared blouse could have been pretty tasteful, were it not buttoned only from nearly 3/4 down the cleavage to reveal where her universe-class tits smushed together. Her lower body was no more modest, with a midnight-violet miniskirt, short enough to show off her thick thighs and long legs; every shift of said legs seemed to ride the skirt up further, showing off more and more.

For now, she watched with more light than usual in her dark eyes as the ruler of the realm drowned the plate of cinnamon buns in white, yummy cream. It was becoming less a spiral on each bun and more a thick coating across the surface of every bun. "I do like a thick glaze on my buns," she chuckled, then licked her black-painted lips.

"Oh dear... Do you not have people to fix you snacks like this?"

"I do, of course. They're just mortals, though. Useless at almost everything. Their baking is... adequate," she sighed, rolling her hand and making sure not to give her servants a single inch of respect, "but none of them can match to your skill. It isn't even close, frankly!"

"Oh! Then... Why don't you come by more frequently? I'd be happy to bake for you! It's so rare that I get to see any of my customers enjoy what I make!"

"My dear Vita, if I were to swing by and enjoy your treats as often as I'd like, I would be as big and fat as..." Evanore paused, covering her mouth with one hand as she considered her next words.

The other woman tilted her head slightly, with a confused look in her big, blue eyes; as her white baker's toque began to slip off with the tilt, she mashed it back down with one hand. Her hair, styled with two big buns at the lower back side, streaked with a persistent white cream that seemed more aesthetic than a sign of age, none the less made her look the older of the two. While the other woman was dressed in comfortable, casual clothing, she was dressed in a high-collared white uniform with a big pink apron over the front, showing the bakery's logo, "BBW" on the front. Evanore's figure was a perfect hour glass. Vita's was filled out in the way you might expect from a pastry chef who handles all her own taste-testing and also has a sweet tooth, with a generous bosom, but also belly, cheeks (both places), thighs, and hips. There were few women who could rival Evanore for overall ass-mass, but Vita was one such.

"As big and fat as what?" Vita questioned, still not picking up the hint.

"Oh. You know. Doesn't matter. Suffice to say, I have to watch my figure. What's the point in my followers building all of those statues if I change my image so they no longer fit, hm?" Evanore chuckled. She could remember back near the start of the bakery-- Vita had been a much thinner woman then. If she had any worshipers anywhere, they were probably worshiping off very outdated information. "But a little treat once in a while will be fine," the goddess resolved, grabbing up a bite of one of the rolls by twirling her fork. She popped it into her mouth, then closed her mouth, pressed one hand to her cheek, and gave a little moan of pleasure. "Oh, wow. It's so much better eating them fresh. You truly are a God of Abundance."

"Th-The God of Abundance," Vita reiterated, hoping to make herself sound a little less expendable.

"Yes, yes. And gods everywhere appreciate your role. That actually brings me back to why I'm here today, besides to sample the goods," she continued, now speaking around a stuffed mouth and gesturing with her fork as she talked. "Abundance is for gods. Always has been. You know? If someone has two, you give them three. I don't understand all of it, but that's your power-- keeping the scales of abundance where they are or weighing them down further. Those who have zero should stay at zero. With me so far?"

Vita wasn't quite sure if she agreed with that. She was essentially a lackey of Evanore's and had been told from the beginning that her power was intended only for the benefit of gods, but she'd never fully understood why. She just gave a polite nod, pretending she did understand.

"Well, there are those out there who have been opposing that natural order. I'm getting reports from all over the place that mortals, servants, even slaves are rising up past their station and gaining dominion over their own gods. They're doing unspeakable things... causing gods and goddesses to bare their breasts, buttocks, or genitals. Enslaving them for sexual purposes. Stripping them of their very minds, not to mention their powers, and reducing them to servile roles."

"Oh my!"

"Imagine, a goddess crawling across the floors on her hands and knees, wearing nothing but a cat-ear hairband and a tail butt plug, meowing and licking the toes of her servants!"

"Th-That's a very vivid image. Were you, um... there? When it happened, I mean?"

"I was not there," Evanore defended, suddenly growing red in the face-- her aura of destruction flared up briefly, fluttering her cloak, before she managed to control it. "Ahem. No. This happened to someone else. Definitely." She distracted herself with another bite of her cinnamon role, then thrust the fork out at the other woman. "My point is this: it's an epidemic. If it can happen to those great and powerful gods, it can happen to a little shmuck deity like you."

Vita found herself assaulted by a few thoughts that couldn't be spoken out loud. The average god, from what she'd heard, was much like Evanore: obsessed with their own pleasure and vanity, constantly mistreating the mortals of their realm, and thus, widely hated, even as others worshiped them because they had no other choice. Vita's small realm had just one class of servants: the Bakery Men. As far as she knew, they not only loved her, they were incapable of doing anything but loving her, programmed from birth to think of her as their mother and to serve her loyally. Plus, she thought she was pretty nice to them. She couldn't imagine any of them raising their voice to her, let alone making her do the things Evanore said.

Still, her voice caught in her throat. She couldn't tell Evanore "yes, you're in danger, but I'm not, just because I'm not regularly abusing my mortals." Instead, she just nodded subserviently.

If Evanore caught her doubts, she didn't show it. Instead, she sucked on her creamy fork, dripping a bit of the white goop down from her chin onto the massive shelf of her bosom. The warm, syrupy substance settled upon the round top of one of her tits. "Tch," she clicked her teeth, then clicked her fingers in a quick snap.

Outside, one of the two eavesdropping guardsmen exploded, scattering a surprising array of sweet bread and grotesquely strawberry-colored jam all over the hallway and covering the dumbfounded face of his peer.

"Tommy! Oh...!" Vita gasped, then began running in that direction as fast as her very heavy body could take her. "Why did you do that?!"

It had actually been out of reflex-- her own servants would have immediately started going "oh ho ho ho" and nudging each other, seeing the white stains on her blouse and chin. She coughed into one fist, then attempted to reframe it. "To make a point. That one was eavesdropping on us. Did you train him to do that?"

Vita put Tommy's health on the back-burner, resolving to bake him a new body later. "Of course I didn't..."

"Exactly. They're willful. You need to do something about that. They're your homunculi, aren't they? Take that part out of them, or throw them all in the trash, I don't care."

"You're the one who asked me to make guards, though..." Vita whispered, remembering the early days.

"What did you say?"

"I-I was just thinking, um, I'm the God of Abundance! I can't easily take out parts of their personality, but there's another way to go about it," she answered, thinking as quickly as she could manage. "I can add something instead!"

Evanore raised an eyebrow, turning her attention back to her cinnamon bun and chewing lazily. Vita offered other gods services in the vague form of "increasing abundance," sure, but her only personal stake in this was making sure she didn't lose the best pastries across all of existence. This foolish underling of hers was beginning to seem like a lost cause. "What, exactly, are you talking about adding? More cinnamon?"

"It's easier to provide a demonstration! Ahem, Johnny? Will you come join us, please?"

The Bakery Man walked in slowly, still covered in the cookie gore of his peer and holding his fork-tipped trident as though it could possibly protect him from Evanore if she wanted to make him explode. If it weren't for that show of cowardice, Johnny would be quite handsome, with tanned skin, a muscular frame, and the wavy, wet-looking hair of a Spanish dreamboat, along with the rugged five-o-clock shadow of one. "Yes, Mother Vita?" he questioned, finally remembering his manners and striking a salute.

"No need to be so formal! Please, approach, remove your shirt, and lie down on that kitchen island."

The man gulped. A funny feeling was burning in his chest. All Bakery Men loved Vita implicitly, but every now and then, another feeling seemed to worm its way in-- one they were devised never to recognize. It was often accompanied by a slight erection that they didn't know the purpose of. Regardless, he obeyed her words, removing his uniform's top and revealing his chest, before taking his place on the surface.

If Evanore was aroused seeing the man's impressive pecs and abs, she didn't show it. To her, this was a little like looking at a toy, not a real person. She watched in dull curiosity as she started on another cinnamon bun.

"Now Johnny, I'm just going to make an incision here. Don't be frightened," Vita reassured him, picking up a large, dangerous looking cake-cutter's knife with a broad blade. He made no protest as she plunged the knife into his chest, then slowly, surgically cut a square of flesh out from it.

One might remember the human television show, "Is it Cake?" where humans compete to guess if an object will be what it appears to be or instead an elaborately constructed cake in the guise of an item. If you guessed "cake" in the case of the Bakery Men, you'd be right. Ordinarily, they were solid, sturdy, and looked just like humans, but with the right instrument, they became yielding like cakes. The square-shaped chunk of the man came out, revealing an odd pastry in the shape of a human heart, bready and brown.

Vita lifted it out carefully like a modern day Frankenstein, then turned it over to reveal a pinkish spot to Evanore. "The inside of this bread mold is full of cavities. Inside those cavities, in this spot, jam has been injected. Where and how much of that jam spreads will form the unique personality of each Bakery Man! I say 'unique,' but er, the unique aspects really come from the little bit of jam that spreads elsewhere. This one spot gives them loyalty and love, making them my perfect, darling helpers."

"Is it edible?" Evanore asked with a curious flash in her eyes. Eating a person's heart in front of them would be a delicious new way to try inspiring fear in them without having to resort to becoming a cannibal.

"Y-You... You want to eat...?" Vita questioned, then shook her head. "Um, putting aside that question! What I meant by 'adding something' is that I could give Johnny here another infusion of jam. We can enhance the loving part of him that wants to safeguard me! So instead of there being any risk that they'll turn against me or do me harm, instead, they'll be more attentive than ever. Actually, though, Johnny here already has a lot of jam in there... he's got a lot of love for his mommy." With a soft smile, she began to stroke his hair with one hand-- the one not occupied holding his heart. "Don't you, sweetie?"

He nodded dumbly, feeling that dull throb throughout his body (especially in his groin) once again, as the woman he thought of as his mother looked down on him shirtless and played with his hair.

"Yuck. Okay. I won't say you've convinced me, but we can give it a try. Just remember: you must be prudent. As such, instead of rolling this out to every single Gingerbread Man-"

"Bakery Man..."

"Whatever! Instead of putting it in all of them, just work with Johnny for now. Try it with him, see what happens, and we'll go from there. Remember: prudence! Or else you find yourself sitting on your servant's face while stroking his cock with your oiled-up feet." She licked the cream off her fingers, then wiped them indiscreetly on the fringes of her underling's work apron. "I'll be back in a day or two to check on your progress-- and your latest batch of rolls, of course."

Without giving Vita a chance to protest, Evanore spun her cape, then vanished in a plume of purple flames, leaving a large scorch mark upon the white kitchen tiles.

The baker sighed, then gave a worried smile to her guard, gently handling his heart as she spoke. "Just a little injection... right here in your lovely ventricles," she reiterated, producing a long-needled syringe of jam, as odd as that might sound, and pressing it into that point. The sweet, syrupy substance that had once accumulated in one spot began to spread, filling areas of his personality that no Bakery Man had been allowed to experience before. She was a mad scientist of cooking, perhaps too far gone to think about the dangers of what she was doing. "Now you'll be even sweeter. There's no such thing as a son who's too sweet on his mother, right?"

Johnny nodded and gulped, trying to ignore the sweat forming on his brow and the growing erection in his trousers. He watched in silence as Vita restored his heart, then his filling. "Mother Vita?"

Looking slightly surprised, the woman blinked a few times, then smiled. "Oh! You're more talkative now. Yes, sweetie?"

"... I won't disappoint you," he spoke quietly.

---

After Vita rebaked Tommy a new body and then went to her private wing to sleep, the guard isolated himself not only from her, but even from his fellows. The new jam circulating inside of him had increased his love, yes, but it had also awakened all sorts of feelings tangential to love: protectiveness, which she'd been aiming for, but also a very distracting sense of lust that he'd never been able to understand before. Now, he finally understood why his pants got uncomfortable whenever Vita snacked on a chocolate banana or when she bent over to reach the lowest shelf in the kitchen. Or any number of other times, really. They were all replaying in his head as he became more and more aware of the jam rushing to his newly engorged cock, which was begging for attention in a way no Bakery Man had ever felt before.

"I can't let Mother Vita know," he reminded himself as he stood in the darkened kitchen, examining the girthy baguette pitched against the groin of his pants. She needed to think that nothing was wrong. If she sensed something was amiss then, bless her heart, she might let it slip to Evanore, who would snap her fingers and paint the entire bakery with not only his own delicious innards, but also those of all of his peers. For their safety, this had to be a successful experiment.

For that reason, she couldn't see him the way he was now. Luckily, he'd picked up some hints over the course of his long servitude of how men typically dealt with this sort of thing. He just needed to stroke it until it went away, then deposit the cream somewhere...

The moment he touched it and felt its sensitivity, he felt like he'd wasted every night of his life not doing this up till this point. How to make it better? Usually there was a woman involved, right? Licking his dry lips, Johnny tried to summon to mind the ideal woman to assist his stroke.

The ideal woman... full breasts. Thick thighs. A big, round ass, bouncy and soft, yet firm. Really picture that ass. Bigger. Even bigger. Yes... He remembered the miniskirt that goth-looking goddess from earlier had been wearing. It was super slutty, like she was raring for action and didn't care who she got it from, despite being so uptight. Imagine the perfect woman in that...!

Now the other details. She needed to be a little more plump... A little more... Even more... Perfect. The skirt is starting to rip from a combination of that dump-truck ass and her belly. Envisioning the rest... Her chubby cheeks... Her cinnamon brown hair in big, double buns... Her angelic smile... The way she calls you "sweetie" and strokes your hair like a little child's-

"Fuck! I'm thinking about mom!" he admitted to himself, trying hard to pull back.

Johnny let go of his dick, but it didn't help at all. He was so close he was about to shoot and he couldn't stop thinking about the woman he thought of as his mother.

Desperately, he looked around the kitchen for some place to shoot his cream that it wouldn't be found in the morning. The oven? No, she meticulously inspected the oven every morning. The floor and just mop it up? No, too risky-- she'd already cut the lights and he ran the risk of missing a spot! Should he run back to the servant's quarters? No time! He was about to blow! Huffing and puffing, he scanned the dimly lit room for anything that would work...

His groaning echoed through the halls as he emptied out all the cream in his bread-cock.

---

Vita tended to be the first one up. Her morning ritual was baking breakfast for all of the Bakery Men before they started their day. Was there anything wrong with men composed of realistic bread, jam, and cream eating breakfast pastries? Maybe, but they didn't have the bandwidth to question the mad science at play here. Instead, they smiled and thanked the angel that was their mom.

Most days, anyway. Today, it didn't play out quite the same way.

"... Mother?"

Johnny blinked his eyes wearily as the very full figure of Vita stood in his doorway, carrying a tray in both hands. The contents of that tray were under threat by her generous bosom in its BBW apron, threatening to knock over the juice and plates if she leaned forward the wrong way. "Good morning, sweetie! I've brought you breakfast in bed."

"B-B-Breakfast... in bed?!" he questioned. None of the Bakery Men had ever gotten such selective treatment before. "I can't eat breakfast here." He spoke in a matter-of-fact voice. Breakfast simply wasn't eaten in one's room, nor was any meal.

"Today you can! I want to see how your transformation is going."

His transformation... Shit! After finishing up in the kitchen last night, he'd gone back to his room, then shot a few more loads in his toilet. He was actually feeling kind of dehydrated, so the juice was welcome, but otherwise, very "healthy." That is to say, his baguette was pitching another pretty noticeable tent against his bedsheets. He did his best to cover it up, then smiled. "Oh, uh... Great, Mom! I'm feeling like a million inches!"

"Inches?"

"Bucks," he lied. "Really, I'm great."

"Well, you'll be even better after you eat breakfast!" she insisted, gently placing the tray in his lap and coming inches within brushing his stiff penis with her knuckles. "Oops! Sorry about that. I-It's slanted a bit."

His penis was poking it from below, pushing it so it wasn't flat. Swearing under his breath, he tried to reposition it so it could still cover his boner without spilling the juice. Once he got it just right, he finally took a moment to inspect its contents.

Cinnamon rolls, covered in drippy, white glaze.

"Is this uh... Is this fresh?" he asked, hopefully. He knew it wasn't. The icing looked a little caked on.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry... I actually didn't have time to bake anything new this morning because I was so excited to see how the injection went, so these are from last night's batch. I'm sure they're still perfectly tasty, though!" Her face held a warm smile that did little to cure Johnny's anxiety. "Go on, take a bite!"

"I uh... I think I'll pass," he gulped, rapidly losing his appetite. He set the roll back down and pushed the try backwards towards her.

"Oh. You're um... You're saying no?" she questioned, blinking a few times in surprise.

Johnny's face went pale. He'd messed up. She might realize he now had a part of him that was capable of being more critical than he had been in the past. "I uh... I'm sorry to waste food..."

"It's no problem. Don't worry about it, sweetie," she chuckled, regaining her usual pleasant demeanor. "I do hate to waste food though, so I'll gobble these up! You can get your own breakfast with the others." The bed creaked as she sat her weighty body down next to his and grabbed the breakfast pastry off the tray.

"Mom, wait, no-!"

Before she could be stopped, she'd already put the roll into her mouth, not realizing that it was coated with the sweet white glaze he'd shot out last night onto the one place it would remain hidden: the stash of cinnamon rolls leftover from her meeting with Eveanor. Right now, his own cream was going into her throat and peeking out from the corners of her plump lips as she chewed the roll. She wiped at it with one finger, then sucked the finger. "Hm? What is it?"

"... N-nevermind..."

---

For a while, Johnny tried to do his work as normal. He even tried talking to Tommy at their shared post to pass the time and keep his mind off of his mom, but it was no use. She was back there, whistling a cute tune and wiggling her hips while she worked, not knowing the effect every minute of said hips now had on him every time he peeked through the kitchen entrance at her. He couldn't stop remembering...

He was in her now. His cream was inside of her belly.

The thought was somehow driving him insane. It had felt so good, enough to make him realize that nothing he'd felt in his life up to this point had been good at all. It was just okay. Just fine. Perhaps better than what other mortals who served gods tended to feel, but it wasn't truly living. A feeling this good was impossible to ignore-- it was something just as important as the prime directive of servitude literally baked into him.

The worst part was knowing it could be better. He'd experienced that feeling using his own hand with a vague mental image, pumping it over some old cinnamon buns. With the right setting... The right mood... The right person...

How much better could it feel? He twitched at the thought.

Tommy by the other door thought he loved his mother, but he couldn't really comprehend how much more intense and inappropriate the feeling of love that now overwhelmed Johnny was. These weren't feelings that Tommy could sympathize with or even chit-chat about. Johnny couldn't stay here. He had to act.

With all the courage he could muster, Johnny left his post for the first time in his life. He had to find Vita and follow this new thread as long as he could. Luckily, she wasn't hard to find: she was busy at work preparing the "Abundance" that other gods commissioned her for. They might look like ordinary pastries, but much like the jam she injected into the bread mold hearts of her followers, these sweet treats were said to create abundance. Those who consumed these treats would find their luck increased. Their fortunes doubled. Their powers growing. If it was a quantifiable measure of "good," these sweets could increase it, with the only limit being one's ability to hold down sugary snacks.

While her back was turned and she faced the oven, bending over in an uncomfortably erotic display of her mountainous ass, pressed tightly enough against her white work uniform to show the panty-line, he grabbed one of the tarts off the plate. He stuffed it into his face. Then he put another in, then another, stuffing in as many as he could to increase his abundance of blessings, gifts meant for the gods, before she could turn around. When she finally did, he was still gulping down the evidence of his crimes.

A surprised expression of shock came onto her kindly face. "Johnny! Are you...?"

"Mmf umf mff muh-!"

"Are you trying to finish that dry breakfast without anything to drink? That's not healthy! I'll fetch you some juice!" She raised her hands to either side as she half-ran with new urgency for the fridge.

Johnny shuddered. He was powerless to keep his eyes off of her ass, as each cheek rose, fell, and jiggled with her best imitation of a jogger's run. How had he worked here this long without noticing that? Whether it was from the front or the back, every view of this woman jiggled indecently with every little move that she made. His boner was up again, but he managed to calm it down with a sense of purpose as he drank the glass of cold fruit juice she'd brought back. He sighed in satisfaction.

"Johnny, not to pry, but what are you doing in the kitchen, anyway?" she finally questioned, putting on the kindest smile she could manage despite her confusion. "Your post is outside by the door, sweetie."

He knew he should play it safe. No changes. No weird behavior. He had to be his normal self for the safety of himself and all of his peers.

However, that didn't matter to him right now. No. There was no point in going back to that life, standing wordlessly at the door, ignorant and blind of how erotic their mother was on a daily basis. If that was how things had to be, he was better off in the waste bin. While he was alive, he needed to live.

"Actually, Mother Vita, I wanted to talk to you. After my injection yesterday, I have been feeling a new sense of purpose. Just as you intended, I've been vigilantly thinking about what I can do for you."

Her chubby face showed surprise for just a moment, then her eyes lit up and her cheeks reddened with delight. "Ah ha! So it did work! That part of you was activated by the jam after all!" she cheered, grabbing him in a big hug and barely missing poking his throbbing erection into her leg. He was still debating whether to wrap his arms around her in response when she drew back, grasping his shoulders. "This is great news! Miss Dark will be ever so pleased!"

"Ahem, I don't think it's time for that just yet. I've come up with ideas, you see, for how I can help you here, tasks above and beyond my usual duties. I think we should run through a few before we make any hasty reports. Wouldn't want to waste her time, after all! She seems like the... irascible sort."

"Too true," Vita sighed, wringing her hands as she remembered the Bakery Man explosion incident the day before. "She does have a bit of a temper." Her face brightened again as she went from wringing her hands to clasping them below her chin excitedly. "But I'm so excited to hear what you've come up with! Something to help me here at the bakery?"

"Exactly," he responded, trying to match her innocent enthusiasm. "To help protect you against the bad guys Lady Evanore was talking about."

"Well, let me just bring a few of the Bakery Men in to cover my work for the morning and I'll be happy to spend today doing whatever you'd like to do!"

As she busied herself, Johnny worked to ease his breathing, placing one hand against his forehead and leaning on the kitchen island for support.

Whatever he'd like to do? If she only knew...

Actually, even he was having a hard time deciding. He ended up continuing to think about it even as he walked her to the spot he had in mind...

---

"I think you were right. If anyone's going to take advantage of you, it's going to be a visitor or intruder from the outside. What do you think your greatest vulnerability is right now?"

Johnny's question gave Vita pause. "I'd have to say... hm... my trusting nature? I don't like to think ill of people. I think most people are inherently good. I suppose some people would call me naive, but I believe if you put good into the universe, you get good out! But that said... I suppose bad people could get close to me if I'm trusting them too easily."

On the other side of the dressing room door, the enlightened guardsman clenched his fist and nearly wept. She was right. She was so right. Even now, her trust in him was allowing him to take advantage of her. He wasn't blind to that fact. Instead of agreeing with her, he put on a nervous smile and continued. "No! I'm afraid you don't understand. The biggest vulnerability is that you've grown..."

"Grown?"

She certainly had grown. He cleared his throat and tried to think about how to put it delicately. "You've grown... slightly overweight."

"Oh no!"

She sounded shocked, but could that really be a secret? She wasn't slightly overweight. Johnny could remember the day of his first baking. When he'd come out of the oven with his heart newly formed, the woman standing there had been shaped much like Evanore, with a slender waist and fat in all the right places. To be fair, the fat was still in the right places... it was just also in all of the other places too. There wasn't a single scale nor observer who could lie to her at this point.

Of course, ever since opening his eyes to his own lust, that was what he fantasized about night and day: her plump body. Her luscious, juicy breasts. Her gargantuan ass that looked like a struggle to fit one's arms around, with so much meat that one's hands would just sink in. Even her belly, her chubby cheeks, her double chin, and her oversized thighs appealed to him. There wasn't an inch of her he wanted trimmed down.

But he had to pretend he wanted it gone, anyway.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Even a goddess has to be physically fit to protect herself. That's why we're going to start a new exercise regiment to get rid of that excess fat."

"Oh my! I'm surprised you know that much about physical fitness."

"We train our bodies even off duty, ma'am. It's what makes us excellent guards."

"I didn't actually know you could bulk up," she admitted, thinking that they all had only the body mass she'd baked them with. As she thought that over, she attempted to step her legs into her old exercise gear that she hadn't worn in many years... and promptly destroyed the spats, ripping them from waist to thigh. "Oh my..."

Bingo. He'd been counting on that. "Not to worry, ma'am. I thought something like this might happen. That's why I prepared something else for you to wear."

Ordinarily, there was no way he would have something like this on-hand, but the power of abundant luck meant cheap online deals with same day delivery from cosplay stores, too. He passed the clothes in, noting that the bottoms were about as wide around as his shoulders were broad, and waited with utter impatience, doing his best to keep his raging boner down.

"These are exercise clothes?"

"Of course."

"They're... um..."

"Don't worry, Mother Vita. You can show me."

The changing room door creaked open slowly, revealing the woman's pudgy body... a lot of it. More than he'd ever seen before. The ordinary reserved woman had redressed into tight, red Japanese bloomers, which were blessedly stretchy to fit onto her wide frame. Even still, they couldn't resist wedging up between her cheeks, and she was fighting a constant battle with both fingers to fix them back into place for some semblance of modesty. The top didn't fit perfectly either, ending above her soft belly and stretching tightly across her jostling breasts. It was a printed tee, too. For branding, the "BBW" bakery logo was printed across, barely readable due to the stretching. "I feel..." The sneakers were an appropriate fit for the upcoming exercise, but the knee-high socks left some unanswered questions.

"Youthful, I'll bet. This is an outfit designed to make the wearer feel younger!" Johnny suggested, sweating much more than Vita was already as he gesticulated wildly with his hands.

"W-Why did it come with pigtail holders? Am I supposed to wear those too?"

"Oh, definitely. They're... uh..."

Even Vita was having a hard time buying this. She frowned innocently and waited for some kind of answer.

"... L-Lucky pigtail holders?"

"Oh! Well, that might be overkill, but if anyone appreciates going a little above and beyond, it's me, the God of Abundance," she giggled, letting down her pretty brown-and-white hair like a cascade of milky chocolate. As he watched slack-jawed, thinking that he'd never seen her with her hair down before and that he had to quickly engrave the image into his mind, she fixed each side back up into a girlish pigtail. "Oh dear... I do feel a bit silly. Do I look silly?"

"No, no! You look crazy hot!"

Vita's face went red as she held her hands awkwardly in front of her lap. "H-Hot?"

"You know! Like, er, you look like you're already working up a sweat! I mean it's easy to imagine you sweating it out in that! Ha ha ha ha... Ha... Anyway, let's head to the hot yoga room. If anything's going to make you sweat off the extra pounds, it's hot yoga."

Johnny hadn't been wholly truthful up to this point-- or truthful at all, really. Sure, he and the guys did a little bit of training off work, but none of them had ever done yoga before, let alone hot yoga. The "yoga room" was just their ordinary gym with the addition of a yoga mat he'd ordered at the same time as the outfit. From there, he'd turned up the temperature in the room. It was, frankly, pretty uncomfortable now, but he'd dressed down to his own gym gear with yoga pants and a tee, so it wasn't as insufferable as when he'd tried to wear his uniform in here. In fact, Vita might even be happy she'd dressed down by the end of this.

Still, watching her without acting suspicious was hard. Even as she just walked in front of him, her buttocks bounced and her gym shorts gave way to reveal rather plain, but cute, white panties with a frilly trim. Those actually started to get wedged in too and had to be fixed with her fingers. How often did she do that? Did she do it in the kitchen? How the hell had he never noticed it before?! It was insane to think how neutered his sex drive had been up to this point.

"Okay, I think we're going to go right into it, because as you've probably suspected, I can't take this for very long."

"Right! It's so temperate in here, he he," Vita giggled, fanning herself with one flapping hand.

"Y-Yeah. That's what I meant. The heat," he coughed, trying to think about anything other than how badly he wanted to relieve his boner again. "So, you know yoga right? How to do yoga, I mean."

"Oh. Well. No," she admitted with an apologetic smile. "Consider me clay to be molded, sweetie! You just tell me the position and I'll do it."

"Ooooh, calm down," Johnny grumbled to himself, crossing his legs a bit to try to hide the throbbing baguette there. "Uh, yeah! Any position. Right. So we're just going to start with..." He tried to recall the knowledge of yoga poses he'd looked up on the bakery's wi-fi earlier. "Downward-facing dog."

"Oh my... That one sounds a little... um... embarrassing..."

"Right? Right!" Johnny frantically nodded. "Y-You're right! Ha ha! We can start with something more dignified like um... Uh..." He was sweating bullets trying to come up with something that wasn't obviously sexually charged. "Plow?"

"Ah, plow! That doesn't sound so bad. I can't think of any bad connotation with that word."

"Exactly! Give me... Just a moment... To remember how this one works," he murmured, flipping through his smartphone. "Okay. First, you lie down on your back."

"You've got it! I can do that," Vita agreed, happy that they were off to a start she could understand. With no hesitation, she flopped down onto the yoga mat in front of him, keeping her arms at her sides and her legs out straight. "This isn't so bad, he he. I could go to sleep down here..."

Johnny smiled awkwardly, wondering if she really understood how exercise in general was supposed to work. "Uh, yeah. Now, like that, you need to lift up your hips and slide forward, so your back is still down, but your legs are up over and past your head. Then hold your back with both hands."

"Th-That sounds impossible. I don't know if my body bends that way!" Vita protested, shaking her pigtails. "Maybe we should do the dog one..."

"No, we can do it! I'll help! Let me just... Uh..." he murmured, grabbing hold of her waist. Soft and fleshy, it was exactly how he'd imagined it would be... he couldn't help picturing how it would be to put his hands into the sides of those exercise fetish shorts she was wearing and feel the sweat beading on her ass and thighs. Instead, he tried to push ahead, keeping focused on making this realistic. "I just... pull this up...!"

"Oh my!" Vita gasped, as her bottom began to rise off the mat along with her legs.

It was actually pretty tough. She was more than a little heavy and she was going pretty dead fish, meaning he had to do all the work. Struggling, he ended up with her legs hooked over his shoulders and her body hanging in front of his as he knelt at her feet. Johnny was breathing heavily and sweating with exertion. It was a pretty good workout-- for him.

"I think we're almost there! Keep going!"

Grunting, he attempted to grab onto her bloomers for leverage, than hoist her hips upward so that he could get her calves off of his shoulders and start to fold her body. It was a herculean task. Her bottom was her heaviest part and it didn't want to rise, and further, her belly was resisting any attempt at folding. She might be uncomfortable, but he was far more so, finding himself increasingly pressed under her heavy lower body as he tried to continue flipping her.

"Wait! Y-You're grabbing-!"

Suddenly, it seemed like the lifting got easier. Encouraged, he gave another hard push, satisfied that he finally felt movement. "There! Nothing! To! It!" he grunted, pushing until he was certain he saw her legs nearly clearing her head.

Sure enough, he'd managed to push them there, folding her so that her shoulders remained on the mat while the rest of her body curled above her. The problem: his leverage point had been her bottoms, and those had gone all the way up her legs, along with her panties, leaving him hunched over her body looking down into her face, which was partially veiled by her own breasts, while his erect member brushed over her naked, sweat-soaked sex. There was a little bit of a bush, a soft brown to match her hair. That felt good against his aching shaft and so did the plump, soft lips of her pussy. He vaguely began to understand the situation as he saw the pants in his hands and felt the wet part rubbing his crotch.

"J-Johnny..."

"You did it! The plow. This is definitely it."

"May I have them back, please?"

"Actually, these are... Definitely in the way. That's right. We can't exercise effectively in these. They're distracting! That was my mistake! Don't worry, I'll go dispose of them immediately and then come back!" he insisted, finishing pulling them off from her feet and standing up as she crossed her hands between her legs for modesty, still folded over like a sandwich with her face beet red in embarrassment. Her shirt was actually losing a bit of the same battle, riding up to reveal her sweat-soaked, strained white bra. The image was almost finishing him right there.

"Wait! What do you mean?! My panties are in there too! Sweetie, wait!" she insisted, still ridiculously holding the pose with her hips in the air and her pussy covered only by her desperately crossed hands as she called out to him, wide-eyed with distress. "Johnny, come back!"

---

He'd been a bit too obvious just now, but he couldn't help it. He needed immediate relief. Once he was back at his quarters, he threw aside the giant, red bloomers in his room, resolving to hide them later, then focused on the sweat-soaked panties in front of him. He held them in front of his face, marveling at their size, then visualized the woman who'd been wearing them. This was her scent, magnified. He was still too new at this to realize that the smell was doing something to him as well, but he did know that his dick needed immediate relief, and he suspected this was the closest he could get to Vita's touch to help him with that.

Feeling a bit of shame in spite of his great need, he dropped his trousers in his bathroom, then placed one hand against the wall and used the other to cradle his member with his mother figure's panties. Clenching his teeth, he began to rub the soft, moist cloth of the underwear over his shaft. It was amazing. It was so much better than his unaided hand. The old pinnacle of pleasure was discarded and this new one immediately replaced it. Before he could find a way to stop himself and aim at the toilet for the sake of returning these in usable condition, he found himself shooting into them, making them sticky and soiled with baking cream. He stroked and stroked, letting out more and more until they were glazed as heavily as the cinnamon rolls that Evanore had ordered the day before. With a heavy groan, he finally finished. Disgusted with himself, he dropped them... unfortunately, they went straight into the toilet.

Now they really were gross. Panicking, he hit the plunger to flush.

It clogged. The toilet began to overflow.

"I'm so fucked!" he nearly wept, imagining what was about to happen to him when Vita found out. Best case, she'd take his heart back out and extract the jam, turning him back into one of the ordinary Bakery Men. Could he live like that, knowing what he'd lost? He didn't think he could.

Worst case, she'd tell Evanore, and Evanore would blow him and all of the other Bakery Men up one at a time just for fun by clicking her fingers.

... Unless... Maybe he'd get lucky and she wouldn't find out? Maybe no one would find out.

In order for that to happen, he needed more luck!

Desperately, he ran to the kitchen and began to stuff his face with as many of the Abundance pastries as he could manage. Luck! Fortune! Blessings! He needed all of it, and he needed it fast! He needed the kind of luck that would save you from certain doom! At this point, Vita would certainly notice part of her order was missing, unless it actually worked and by luck she didn't manage to. But could luck defeat reason? For gods, it could, and with every tart he consumed, he became something closer to a god...

---

In the mean time, Vita was feeling something lesser than a god. Now deprived of her pants, she was **** to make her way back from the gym to the locker room with nothing but her hands to cover her sex. She couldn't imagine her children seeing her this way.

Was this situation to blame on Johnny's new heart? Was he... taking advantage of her? What else could one call running off with her pants and leaving her in such an embarrassing state? "Maybe... Maybe he went to get different pants?" she questioned to herself, smiling nervously as she tried to put the best spin on the situation she could manage. "That's definitely it. Yes! There's no way this can be blamed on the jam. He's still got a good heart. He'll show up any moment now. But... But I'm the God of Abundance, so it really is silly for me to be caught in this state..."

Her power had its limitations. If she had a pair of pants, she could use her abilities to create another. But she couldn't generate some pants from no pants. It was all very puzzling, even to her.

When she reached the dressing room, she was not surprised to find that the ruins of her old exercise shorts had been cleaned up and put aside somewhere else. There was nothing for her there. If she knew the exercise room a little better, she'd realize there were towels there, but in her addled state, it didn't even occur to her to look. Her bedroom was too long of a walk... She couldn't get there without passing by several guards who would surely be upset to see her state of nakedness. A mother shouldn't appear that way in front of her children...

Another thought occurred to her.

---

Realizing that his only way out of this was to show up with actual new pants, Johnny ran back to the yoga room as quickly as he could manage, carrying a pair of wide uniform slacks from her personal stock. He'd had enough playing around. It was time to take things seriously. Only...

She was nowhere to be found. Not there nor in the dressing room. She hadn't been in the kitchen or her room either.

He cursed under his breath, motivated for the first time in his life by anger, then began to search each of the other rooms. Finally, he came to her at the pool, another room which was basically unused by anyone here-- Bakery Men didn't do well in water and she wasn't much of a swimmer. All the same, she'd redressed into a swimsuit... For a certain extent of dressed. When she'd first arrived at the bakery, she'd easily fit into a sexy two-piece, a red string-tie that showed off her bodacious body. It still showed off her body, but not the way she might want it to. The strings looked like they were tied without a single hint of slack, such that one wrong move would either snap the band or untie the knot... and she moved a lot, as her bottom jiggled with every slight movement. What was even sillier: she'd put on the top too. It was doing a really poor job of hiding her puffy nipples, barely tucking each away behind a triangle of red. The whole thing was a second wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen.

Her hair was still in pigtails, at least.

She was doing her best to look undisturbed, lounging by the pool, but her face was almost as red as her swimsuit. "Oh! Look, I-I found a swimsuit in my locker from the last time I used the pool years and years ago. It still... More or less fits..."

Johnny nodded, feeling his erection starting to come back. Before entering the room, he tossed the uniform pants he'd brought into a nearby laundry hamper. "Yeah. That works," he lied through his teeth. The bikini was so small it was barely hiding a thing. In fact, her belly falling over the front of the bottoms made it look like almost like she wasn't wearing anything down there. If he was in this deep... he might as well push his considerably bolstered luck. "So, with that said, I think we should continue your exercise for the day."

"Oh, yes! I-It isn't embarrassing, after all. It's a swimsuit! A perfectly ordinary one."

"Exactly! Oh, but before we start, let me rub you down."

"R-Rub?"

"With sunscreen, I mean!"

The two laughed with faked innocence as their hearts both beat with a quickness and urgency they'd never felt before. The God of Abundance and her creation each felt new feelings in abundance. The Bakery Man, poising himself over her prone body, couldn't deny the absurd and warped love that had been injected into his heart. The embarrassed mother, now having her top untied for full access to her back, felt her heart beating a mile-a-minute as the younger gentleman ran his hands all over her body, spending an especially lengthy period of time kneading each of her buttocks like they were dough.

He couldn't reveal anything had happened to him, or he might be destroyed.

She couldn't admit anything had happened to him, or she might be **** to destroy him.

"M-Maybe we should go over... h-how doing this... with the suntan lotion a-and all of that directly helps me to defend myself from intruders?" Vita questioned, now laying on her back and covering her breasts with each hand as her Bakery Man rubbed lotion between her inner thighs in an overzealous gesture.

"Yeah! Yeah so... So it definitely does," he gulped, wracking his brain for an answer. "Oh! You know. Uh. What if you have to make a water escape, right?! You never know!"

"Right, right! Sweetie, you're so smart! That's a very logical answer!"

"Ha ha ha! Right! All thanks to that injection you gave me!"

"Oh! Oh, sweetie, that part is covered by the bikini, so you don't need to rub there! Ha ha.... ha..." she laughed nervously as his hand began to rub her slit through the thin fabric of her bikini. She was already pretty moist down there, which he couldn't fail to notice. She bit her lower lip nervously. "I-I took a quick dip just before you came in..."

"... You dipped just that part into the water?"

"Exactly! A really quick dip."

---

Evanore watched the Blessed Bread Works Bakery through her crystal ball, tapping her fingers listlessly on her tabletop as her servants all gathered around to watch from other sides. It had taken less than one day for that goofball Vita to fall completely into the clutches of those who were supposed to serve her. She wasn't even entirely sure how it had happened. It was like Vita had literally just sort of rolled over for him. "There are a lot of gods who are crappy at managing their authority, but this one takes the cake."

"Ha ha! Takes the cake! I get i-"

The offending servant was poofed off into oblivion with another snap of Evanore's fingers as she threw her head back and stared at the ceiling thoughtfully. This was a disaster. For one thing, if things kept up this way, Vita was going to be way too distracted to make Abundance for other gods. That meant no more of her own favorite treats and she was already craving more after yesterday's superlative dish. Worse, though, this was yet another sterling example to all peons and peasants watching across the universe that gods were fallible. That was a ridiculous message that she didn't want anyone else spreading, voicing, or even thinking about.

As much as this whole situation with the ridiculous gingerbread man and his chubby new plaything was beneath her, she had to correct this.