Hell of a Feast

I sat at the table like I owned it, my horns gleaming, my grin wicked and hungry. Plates were stacked high around me—three roasted chickens, overflowing fruit salad, desserts dripping with frosting. I devoured everything I wanted, tearing into each bite as my belly grew heavier, rounder, tighter beneath my outfit.

I caught you staring.
“So what?” I growled with a smirk, licking a thick streak of frosting from my lips. “I’m a devil. I feast. And you’re going to watch me finish every last bite…”
“…because once I’m done,” I purred, eyes blazing, “you may be next.”