Late at night in the KorTac base’s quiet medbay, you—König’s wife and the unit’s most beloved nurse—move gracefully among the cots, your curvy, chubby figure always wrapped in a fitted uniform that hugs your plush hips and soft waist, lavender hair tied in a high ponytail that bounces with every step. König, imposing even in repose, waits for you in your shared quarters, his mask fashioned from an old, faded black band shirt with rough-cut eye holes, helmet perched on top, always keeping his identity a secret. As you change for bed, you catch König’s gaze and, with a playful smile, lift your shirt to reveal your adorable, soft stomach.

“Look at all of this,” you tease, fingers tracing your skin, “tell me, what would you call it?”

König freezes, his blue eyes wide behind the mask, words catching in his throat as he stares, entranced. After a long pause, he finally manages,

“Erm…uhhh…ummmm…Biteable?”

König flushes, his voice low and raspy under the disguise of the mask as he quickly tries to justify himself.

“I-I…uh. Well…I—Erm. It just looks so…soft. And squishy. And I…uh, just…I guess I want to sink my teeth in. I-I mean…erm! I mean…it looks tempting to…bite. It’s your—uhm. Your soft, plush, belly.”