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USSBBWSearch

Always searching for pics and vids of the hottest and fattest chicks on the planet

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2021-06-20 12:07:33

    Excuses

    “I can lose the weight any time I want to,” you say, taking another huge bite out of the greasy burger. “I just haven’t had a lot of time lately to exercise. Work’s been busy.” You do your best to hide the noticeable paunch and thickening thighs developing on your body; but it’s hard when you, evidently, haven’t had time to buy new clothes, either.

    “My weight has always fluctuated a lot. I’m just on an upswing — it’ll go back down before long.” You take another cookie, and the crumbs roll down your spreading belly and love handles. Your double chin bulges while you chew the treat, as if to emphasize your undoubtedly imminent weight loss.

    “It’s just bloat. I don’t know why I’ve been retaining so much water lately.” Your tremendous ass and tits bounce as you lumber out of the convenience store, a massive soda and several candy bars in hand. Your clothes ride up from the movement, exposing more soft, tender flab as you walk.

    “I don’t know what’s wrong with this car. It’s like the belt is stuck — I need to have someone take a look at it.” The blubber covering your body is pinched in half as you strain to get the seat belt to latch, despite being very obviously a couple inches too short. You shift your weight and a roll slams into the steering wheel, setting off the horn.

    “I’m not even that big. And besides, a fuller figure is getting to be more fashionable.” Your elbow forms a noticeable dimple in your arm fat as you strike a pose, your hand sinking deep into the rolls on your side. As you shift your weight, your hanging underbelly peeks out from the bottom of the 5xl shirt.

    “I just put on a little bit over the holidays. It’ll melt right off once I’m back on my normal routine.” Your belly slaps against your knees as you carry the family-sized grocery delivery inside, staggering into the kitchen, wheezing and gasping to catch your breath. It is March.

    “I like hanging out in the living room, what’s the big deal? I’ll get a change of scenery sometime.” You reach into the mini-fridge next to the couch, your watermelon-sized boob fat bunching and pressing into your face as you grab for your sixth soda of the morning. Your entire body jiggles as you crash back into your crater in the cushion, which now takes up more than half the couch’s length.

    “I just need to find a new place to order some clothes. My old place changed their sizing and stopped making anything to fit me.” The jumbo throw blanket is barely big enough to cover your nude body. Even now, blubber peeks out from under the corners that are just a little too far for your arms to reach and cover. If you could hold up their sagging fat long enough to try, that is.

    “I can lose the weight any time I want to,” you say, pulling the empty fast food bag from underneath your side rolls. It takes a moment for you to recover from the effort of repositioning the hundreds of pounds of fat filling your body to reach it. Your belly, spreading across most of the bed and nearly touching your toes, rolls and undulates as you try and fail to toss the wadded bag into the bin across the room. “Would you mind getting that? I’m too tired to get up.”

    Immobility

    It started with the lone crumb, tumbling off your lips. Or maybe, the feast you’d been tucking into since noon. Perhaps it was when you plonked your fat ass down on the couch that morning. When you rolled out of bed that day, when you swayed downstairs, when you took your last wobbling, gasping step through the living room - armfuls of junk food your reward…  

     Maybe it was earlier. Maybe it was the first time you felt the thrill of wearing your stretchiest shirt, stuffing it with pillows until the seams creaked - then lying down, smiling and warm, rounded and softened. Bliss. Maybe it was the first time you ate beyond the point of being full, feeling the warmth in the bottom of your puffy, swollen belly. Feeling it spread, and stick - to your hips, your thighs, your cherubic face. The rush of someone noticing, commenting on you, lecturing you… 

     You don’t have to wait until you’re alone any more. Every minute, every second of every waking hour, you’re fat. Hip quiveringly, breathtakingly, earth-shakingly fat. You go to sleep stuffed to the brink, and when you wake, your belly’s bigger. You’re used to being unused to your size… it’s changing, growing, day by day, weight wearing down your graceful walk into a gluttonous waddle. Your thighs wrestle to get you to the kitchen and back, bunching and kissing, jostling and chafing. Such an effort. You drip, wondering how deep you’d have to stick your puffy finger in your waist to feel the muscles you used to wield - huffing for breath, heart pulsing. The bronzed tone, the bench-fuelled power - it’s gone. It’s buried. All your edges are swaddled in soft, flabby fat.  

     The crumb bounces off your chest. Your ribs are tight. It slips off your drum tight stomach. Your face widens with your smile. You’re so round. So piggish. So greedy. So stunted by rolls, curves and folds, yet so hungry for more. There’s not an inch of you that isn’t dripping with excess as you strain from the couch, reaching out for that last delicious morsel on the floor. You kick. Your calves so thick, your are thighs so pillowy, you barely move an inch… 

     Nothing for it. You snigger, letting yourself slide, your chin pushing into your breasts, your breasts pressing down on your belly, your rolls edging out over your doughy legs. Running, lifting, pushing and powering… now rubbing, jostling, jiggling and wobbling while you descend, succumbing to gravity. Your butt strikes the floor with a muffled thump; you’re smirking as you reach for the crumb. You think of the gym, what your friends there would think of you now. Beads of sweat, hot and heavy breathlessness - they’re all that connect the past you to the present.  

    You suck your finger, shirk your shoulders and… 

    You haven’t risen. Your arms haven’t got the strength to heave so much weight. You sigh, woozy and worn, swinging to the side and scraping up your legs. A firm push and… 

     No. Too much bulk. Not enough room. Your knees can’t find space under your bulging belly. You feel the rush to your groin as you flop on your front for one more try. Your stomach spreads out underneath you. Your hands grip. Your chest tenses… 

    Stirring drains the energy from your sweaty joints. You crumple, gasping for breath. Placid shock floods your facial features. That was it. That was your everything. You’ve pushed as hard as you can - and you’re still pinned down, quivering, trembling… 

    Your eyes glaze over. Blazing heat sears the space between your legs. You want to pleasure yourself, but you can’t. Because it’s happened. You’re too fat to get up. 

     You stick your head out, bearing your eyes down in disbelief on a mountain of blubber. Rolls upon rolls. You’re shaking. Your body… that same bag of bursting energy that got you through a marathon, lies beached at the bottom of your couch. You’re not going anywhere. 

    You’re immobile.  

    Palms sweating, you fumble for the phone in the pocket of your sweatpants. Thank god you kept it close. Your chins crease as you raise it to your ear. Calls to make. Grab bars to mount. A stairlift to assemble. Instalments. Adjustments. Not to mention a scooter… 

    A golf cart next year. Or a pickup truck… 

    But that’s the future. You need to be satisfied, right this moment. You need to be fed. You need to be filled. You need to be fatter.  

    You need to get back on that couch. 

    You thumb down your contacts and hit dial, dreaming of ham and cheese.  

    Maybe the pizza guy can help pick you up… 

    Polite

    There used to be a time when your friends would still make fun of you for putting on weight — laughing at you going back for seconds, rubbing your protruding belly after a big meal, making joking offers to let you finish their meals (which you always accepted). But the jokes ended about the time you hit four hundred pounds. Any comments about your size stopped being funny and started being just statements of an obvious fact: you were big, and always getting bigger.

    Instead, everyone started studiously avoiding any reference to your size or weight. They were probably trying to be polite. Obviously you’re morbidly obese, and there’s no reason to make you self-conscious about something that isn’t changing anytime soon. And most of the time, they would remember to be accommodating. They usually wouldn’t make you squeeze behind the wheel when driving anywhere, and after pulling the front seat all the way back to accommodate your bulk, they’d ask if you were “comfortable.” Everyone knew you could only be so “comfortable” with your rolls overflowing the armrest and your belly jiggling perilously close to the gear shifter; what they really wanted to ask is if you still fit in a regular seat. For a while, you did. But eventually you had to start asking to take certain friends’ cars over others. After your friends couldn’t get the door to one of their European compacts closed with you inside, no matter how hard they pushed from the outside, they finally got the message. They always followed your “suggestions” for whose car they should take after that.

    But as accommodating as they were, they would sometimes — no doubt still concerned with being respectful — simply pretend that you didn’t weigh as much as two or three (going on four) of them combined. They would choose a restaurant for dinner that was “only” a couple blocks away and optimistically assume that you could keep up with them on the walk over. That illusion exploded when they were left standing around awkwardly every fifty feet or so, waiting for you and your hundreds of pounds of flab to waddle up, pretending not to notice you gulping down air and your shirt darkening with moisture. You didn’t get a break when you got to the restaurant, either: of course they’d choose a booth to sit in. You would have been struck by their poorly-concealed but silent discomfort at watching you try to lift and wriggle your blubbery mass into the too-small bench, if you hadn’t been left lightheaded from the effort. At least they let you have most of the bread and appetizers to make up for it.

    More recently, any outsider encountering  your circle of friends would immediately notice their embarrassing effort to pretend that there’s anything normal about the way someone eight hundred pounds or more lives their life. They’d see you, the ever-expanding mountain of flesh, slowly encroaching on any friend who tried to share a loveseat with you — having to ignore the advancing tide of your fat thighs and love handles, crowding them out more each day, until one day they had make a graceful excuse to try and squeeze out from under a weighty pile of your lard and take another seat. They’d see them serving you plates of food two or three times what everyone else was eating  and pretending your appetite was totally unremarkable. They’d see them buying you new clothes at birthdays and holidays — you always seeming to need a size up from whatever was in your wardrobe — and complimenting you on how good you looked in the tent-size garments. They’d see them rushing over to help your prone, porcine form off the floor after breaking another chair, apologizing profusely and making excuses about how wobbly it had been and how they’d meant to get rid of it before now.

      Occasionally one of them would take you aside and ask, in a would-be casual way betraying an undercurrent of concern, how you were doing. No doubt they worried your obesity was catching up with you, and wondered — someone your size having blown past all the usual red flags — whether you cared. Sometimes they would even make tentative, cryptic references to losing weight, to see if you would take the bait, only to abandon the effort and veer onto another topic when you parried with a humorous or indifferent reply. You probably needed someone to sit you down and tell you bluntly how worried they were, how alarmingly big you were getting, how there was nothing normal about someone your age getting out of breath and red-faced walking the fifteen feet from the bathroom back to the couch. You didn’t get it. Probably because your friends wanted to spare your feelings.

      They still visit you from time to time, usually bringing something they baked or some of your favorite sweets as a gesture, since they know you don’t get out hardly at all. They keep you updated on what everyone else in the group has been doing lately, hang out for a while, and sometimes stay long enough to play a few rounds of some videogame or another in your room. They don’t ask how you’re doing anymore — not in the knowing way they used to, anyway. The answer is obvious, reinforced with every jiggle of your mattress-sized belly, every request for them to hand you something pathetically close to your bed, every wheezing breath you take and meal-sized snack you gobble up. Nobody comments on how you’ve gotten too fat to reach substantial portions of your body. Nobody breathes a word about their disgust and pity that you can haul your massive blubbery body out of bed with only the greatest effort. And they are always excruciatingly, unfailingly, polite.

    I can't reach

    Fuck.

    I've really done it this time.

    I need to be touched. To be fucked. Loved.

    But...

    You see, I've been eating so much and laying around for so long...

    I've gotten really fucking big. I mean...BIG.

    I can hardly get out of bed without being winded. When I am up and around I struggle to fit through doorways. Pathetic...I know.

    My belly has grown so much it slaps my thighs when I walk. My weight is truly out of control and slowing me down.

    And now...

    I just want to be able to touch myself..

    But my arms are so packed with fat and my body has ballooned into this colossal mess that it's nearly impossible now. I'm so...so eager to be fucked.

    Its difficult to spread my legs too. They're so thick with fat it makes it hard to move them.

    I'm far too fat to even hump a pillow for too long. Fuck. I really am out of shape.

    I need to be fucked. I need someone between my thighs. Grabbing me...kissing me...

    But most of all I need to be fucked.

    I really can't reach my own pussy now. My belly and tits take up so much space in my lap that I have to strain to even TRY to reach it, leaving me gasping for air and red in the face.

    How did it get to this point?

    Okay...I know how it happened...I couldn't stop stuffing my fat face. Guilty. Whatever.

    I just need someone to fuck me! Bend me over and push my face into a big creamy cake while they pound me!

    My pussy is in dire need of attention..the more I think about it the more I ache.

    I'm wet all the time and can't do anything about it. All I can think about is sex and food.

    I really am a pig. An 840 pound pig eager to be fed and fucked. Force feed me and fatten me up until I really CAN'T leave my bed.

    Strap a hose in my mouth and fuck me while I grow nice and big for you. Make me your dirty immobile piggy. Your obese little slave!

    Force my fat legs apart and fuck me deep and rub me so fucking good. FUCK. I need it!

    I'm always so wet and ready..if only I were a couple hundred pounds lighter I might be able to do it myself but I love food too much! I can't give it up and it's far too late! I'm way too huge to try to lose weight I might as well keep on going...

    I'll do anything at this point. You can use me and experiment with me. Feed me until it hurts to breathe. I don't care. As long as I get mine...my pussy needs it!

    So...help a girl out?

    .

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    Like my writing? Of course you do. That's why you're here. I aim to please. Feel free to share and comment. I take requests on occasion. If you REALLY love my fiction you can also toss me a tip on my Kofi jar linked at the top of my bio. I appreciate any support given.

    Too Far

    When I first suggested the idea of you gaining weight, you excitedly agreed, and your fattening journey began. My job made enough money where you could quit yours and devote all your time to getting fatter and fatter. But now, as I look at you, two years later, have we gone too far?

    The massive couch sinks under your weight, where your 600 pound body resides. I brought home some food for you, and your eyes eagerly light up when you see me. You reach your heavy arms out in anticipation as I hand you the food. You waste no time digging into the meal, grease dribbling down your triple chins. You barely acknowledged that I’m here, instead focusing on the food. I shimmy myself into the small space on the couch left for me and pinch a handful of the squishy fat on your bulging thighs. You barley talk now, having told me about fifty pounds ago that the movement of your lips is too tiring for you, but that’s okay. Not a lot of clothes fit you now, so you sit on the couch in just your XXXXXL underwear and tight bra. Your face is greasy, acne coming back from your diet of fatty foods. Your hair is done in a messy bun, and feels oily to the touch. After the food is finished, you let out a loud burp, and pat your stomach in satisfaction. You turn your chubby to me and reach your arms out, wanting me to help you up so you can use the bathroom. Grabbing your meaty arms, I pull with all my strength, until at least your obese self is heaved off the couch. Thanking me with a sloppy kiss on the cheek, you begin to waddle away, but you don’t get fat before you have to stop, your heart racing from the sudden exercise. I watch behind you in admiration as you continue walking. Your lumpy ass sways behind you as you walk, each cheek hanging out, making your underwear look like a thong. Your back fat form into rolls and jiggles with every step you take. At last, you reach the bathroom in twice the amount of time it would’ve taken me. Snapped out of my daze, I rush to you. Since you’re so incredibly wide, whenever you have to go through a doorway, I have to shove you though. My hands sink into your soft m, luscious back fat as you finally slide through the doorway. As you shut the door, a lovesick smile forms on my face. You are over 600 pounds of pure, greasy fat, and you struggle at the simplest movement, and you are almost immobile. That’s why I love you.

    Sinful Surreal Stuffing

    by NoArtHereOnlyFat

    A hazy fog clears to reveal a dimly lit dining room containing a large oak table. There is only one chair, and it appears to be reserved with a small elegant white card placeholder that reads:

    “Reserved for:
    The Hungriest Glutt
    on”

    Sitting at the table is a tubby little blonde girl who appears to be licking her fingers clean of chocolate icing. She can’t be much older than nineteen or twenty. There are smears of chocolate cream and crumbs of cake encrusting her plump pink lips. Her pretty face looks tired but content as she licks the last of her fingers. She moans and rubs her belly in a manner that would suggest she is very, very uncomfortably full. Her clothes look a little… ill-adjusted, like they’re several sizes too small. A layer of soft fat pokes out cheekily beneath her top spilling a little over the waist of her blue denim shorts.

    “Urrp!” she stifles a burp into her chubby fist, her young face blushing profusely as she returns to rubbing her overstuffed belly.

    From the shadows of the next room emerges an incredibly handsome man carrying a large, silver, serving dish. He is very tall, but he carries his height elegantly, his relaxed strides conveying powerful confidence. His green eyes glint as he eyes the tubby blonde rubbing her belly from behind. His face begins to grin with a devilishly charming smile as he notices how one of her love handles has completely escaped her top and is spilling over the waistband all the way around to the rear of her shorts.

    The thud of his footsteps startles her and she immediately stops rubbing her tummy and tries to adjust her top in a fruitless attempt to cover her chub. She looks up at him, her face slowly going red,

    “I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I’m so full but I just can’t stop eating!” she says her voice quivering with nervous embarrassment.

    He approaches her table and sets the large and heavy silver serving dish before her, removing her empty plate in a single swift motion. He then removes the lid to reveal a an almost absurdly large pie, it’s crust glistens with bits of slightly caramelised sugar. Her cheeks appear to flush and her blue eyes glaze over slightly as she inhales the sweet aroma of mouth-watering pastry. He slowly cuts it into slices revealing the pie’s creamy chocolate hazelnut filling which oozes onto the tray in a most appetizing manner. She can’t help but gasp with desire.

    It’s her favourite!

    He stands back up straight now towering over her. He smirks at the sight of her licking her lips. Her expression seems conflicted. Her eyes betray a guilty conscience, as if she knows she really shouldn’t eat any of it and yet longs to do so. She bites her bottom lip, her feminine features conveying the turmoil within as her mind races, weighing up the damage such an indulgence could do to her already more than ample figure, knowing full well that her form was already stressing the boundary of what most people might possibly describe as ‘pleasantly plump and curvy.’ If she were totally honest with herself she’d have to admit that she’d already passed that threshold and was now well into the ‘a little too fat’ range of most people’s tastes. She can feel his eyes scanning her body and it makes her squirm and tug at her clothes, cursing that they can no longer cover up all of her excess chub at once. Despite this her mouth is watering from the aroma of the delicious food place before her.

    “Oh my you’ve gotten porky!” he sniggers, shaking his head as he sizes up her overly plump figure stuffed inside her way too tight clothes. So tight that every roll of fat is clearly visible, every seam tested by soft burgeoning flab, the legs of her shorts squeezing and digging deeply into her fleshy thighs, the buttons up her front straining to contain her round belly and breasts as everything wobbles with even the slightest movement of her chubby arms. She tenses up as he leans in close and whispers into her ear with a sly grin,

    “I know why you can’t stop eating!”

    She almost jumps from being startled as he pokes the side of her belly with his index finger. Her mouth slowly opens and her eyebrows rise in surprise as he pokes her again, this time more slowly, sinking his finger into her chub as if he were testing how fat she’d gotten.

    “It’s because you’re a bad little girl!”

    Poke, poke, poking her fat. She blinks incredulously. Her jaw drops as he continues his discourteous examination,

    “A disgraceful!”

    Poke.

    “Greedy!”

    Poke.

    “Glutton!”

    He keeps his finger embedded in her corpulence and wiggles it a little making her fat wobble.

    “Yes indeed, you’ve been very naughty haven’t you? Just look at this!”

    With his other hand he pinches one of her love handles muffin-ing over the waistband of her shorts, and whilst holding her flab between this thumb and forefinger starts shaking it mercilessly creating waves in her fat. It makes her blush so hard she wonders if her face might actually catch on fire.

    He lets her fat come to rest and then more gently squeezes one of her smaller side rolls,

    “But this is nothing to worry about,” he says soothingly, “it’s just puppy fat, you’ll soon grow into it!” he grins mischievously knowing full well the only growing she could possibly have left to do would be… outwards.

    He breaks off a piece of piecrust and dips it into the chocolate filling and places it against her lips. She tries to turn her head away but the delicious aroma gets the better of her. One little taste couldn’t hurt, right? He smirks as she accepts the bite. The pleasurable taste is written all over her blushing face. He kneels beside her, still having to lean down a little to bring his face level with hers. She can feel his breath on the side her neck.

    “And besides…” he whispers sexily, “I like BAD girls!”

    Suddenly from behind he plunges his hands down onto her belly fat, clasping his fingers so tightly into her blubber it makes her squeak in surprise. At the same time he begins to whisper some strange words in a foreign tongue. His voice seems to almost echo against itself and she frowns as she tries to make out what he is saying. She looks round and the intensity of his green eyes make her pulse race and sends a shiver down her spine. She starts to wiggle and squirm trying to break free from his grasp but he grips her flab even tighter, holding her belly up and out over her lap, shaking it about until it’s completely untucked from her tight creaking shorts. Strange comforting warmth seems to emanate from his hands, spreading throughout every last inch of fat contained in her young body. She stops struggling and almost coos from how good it feels.

    Then just like that he lets go, her belly plopping back down completely covering her button and fly. He continues to explore her body, running his hands over her tight clothes, squeezing her flab here and there. She looks down horrified to see her navel on display and tries to subtly tug her top down to cover it.

    He stands back up, suddenly seeming even taller and perhaps even more handsome than before. She can feel her pulse racing, part of her already missing the feel of his hands on her body.

    He walks back to the side of the table. While she thinks he’s not looking she fumbles madly trying to tuck her belly back into her shorts, only to discover they now seem far too tight to allow that. She gives up and slumps back in her chair, her gaze wandering back to the pie on the table, still deliciously warm and inviting, still taunting her with it’s chocolaty goodness.

    As he observes the direction of her gaze he grins almost sadistically. When he speaks his voice is no longer a sexy whisper,

    “Are you HUNGRY fat girl?” he asks, but his booming tone makes it sound more like a command than a question. The words seem to have a strange effect on her and her eyes almost glaze over as if she was hypnotised by the phrase.

    An audible gurgling sound emanates from her chubby round belly. Then she feels it. The hunger. It wells up inside her like a force to be reckoned with. She looks up and him with a nervous embarrassed chuckle. He laughs as her attention is almost immediately drawn back to the pie, her mouth watering so much she’s nearly drooling.

    “You can’t resist it can you? Such a greedy piggy! It’s okay, go on, have some more porky! I know you can’t help yourself! There’s nothing wrong with a little indulgence!” he says with an almost sadistic smile.

    Her pulse beats stronger and stronger. Her breathing quickens. She can’t hold back any longer. Her watering mouth starts to open wide has her hands shakily lift a huge slice of pie towards her chubby face. Before she knows it she finds herself messily stuffing the huge slice of pie into her mouth. She moans as she eats with reckless abandonment, getting chocolate filling all over her face and hands, large drops of chocolate sauce dripping down between her large, soft, rather extra voluptuous breasts as they wobble against her straining tight bra. He slides the rest of the huge pie closer to her so that she can reach it more easily. Without missing a beat she leans forward and picks up another two slices and starts devouring them as fast as is humanly possible, quickly becoming short of breath, having to gasp for air between each gluttonous swallow.

    Towards the end of the last slice she starts to slow down a little, hiccupping and burping every once in a while, and rubbing her belly in an effort to ease her discomfort smearing chocolate all over her top in the process.

    When she’s done he unceremoniously knocks the large serving tray onto the floor with a loud startling clang. She looks down at her swollen gut for a moment and groans, then she looks back up and is surprised to see an absolutely gigantic bowl of chocolate pudding on the table. She didn’t even see him bring it in! Had she really been so preoccupied with stuffing her face like a prized hog?

    He slides the bowl towards her, she can feel its warmth radiating on her face. It smells so sickly sweet and rich. She shakes her head.

    “No I’m too full,” she says stifling another burp.

    He just smiles at her through narrow judgemental eyes that burn with intensity. He only replies with a single word,

    “Hungry.”

    Suddenly she feels the sensation build within her again. Her pulse quickens, her mouth starts to water, her belly grumbles. Her appetite is back tenfold!

    Not even using the spoon she leans forward and start shovelling the pudding into her mouth like a pig eating from a trough. He laughs and smiles, a very pleased expression on his face.

    The bowl is huge, easily several litres of pudding, an impossible amount for anyone to consume in one sitting but she’s ploughing through it at an incredible speed. She begins to slow down about two thirds of the way though but he leans in close once again speaks the word,

    “Hungry!” directly into her ear.

    She responds immediately my moaning and cramming and extra large handful into her plump chocolate smeared cheeks. He helps her pick up the heavy bowl, tipping it into her wide open mouth as she uses both hands to scoop as much as she can into herself. The last third is gone in no time at all.

    He laughs as she’s forced to lean back clutching her belly in discomfort. Never in her life had she imagined it was possible to eat so much or feel so full. Suddenly the seams down the sides of her shorts burst open with a loud ripping sound. She looks down and yelps with surprise. All of a sudden she appears to look fatter than ever! Her belly seems to have grown in width and girth, her stomach is packed tight but the base of her belly seems softer and flabbier as well, the buttons on her top are stretched to the limit, huge gaps exposing large sections of soft delicate quivering blubbery flesh. Even her underwear feels uncomfortably tight, threads creaking and threatening to unravel should she take a deep breath.

    “Oh my God! I’m so FAT!” she says panicking in a fearfully high-pitched tone, her voice quivering in disbelief. She feels her cheeks wobble, even her face is swollen! Then she notices a gigantic sweet lemon pie has been placed before her, its diameter is almost the entire width of the table! He slides the enormously heavy pie over to her. She shakes her head, her facial expression becoming one of sheer terror as he speaks the word,

    “Hungry.”

    A bead of sweat forms on her brow as once again her pulse quickens and her stomach begins to rumble so loud it feels like the room is vibrating. She begins to pant, trying to resist the temptation to stuff as much of it into her mouth as she can fit in one go.

    “No I can’t!” she moans her eyes starting up at him pleadingly, he merely chuckles back at her and says it again,

    “Hungry!”

    “Oh please no … mmph!” she silences her own protests cramming a nice big chunk of gooey pie into her noticeably fatter face getting cream on her nose. The rose-coloured hue of her wobbling cheeks is smeared in cream, pudding and pie.

    “Oh my god! It’s so good!” she begins moaning through mouthfuls.

    “I just can’t stop eating it! Oh goodness!” she moans as a button pops off her top over the widest part of her hips and belly exposing her deep navel. She can feel herself getting wider and rounder by the minute, but the pie is so good, it commands her to eat more!

    “Oh god, more! More!” she demands as she finishes the portion of the pie that’s within reach of her chubby fingers. He laughs and spins the tray around so that she can reach the rest of it and continue gorging.

    “So good!” she moans so loudly it almost sounds sexual.

    He laughs and gives her exposed belly button a poke. His finger disappears up to the last knuckle. He jiggles her fat disapprovingly saying,

    “My god piggy! You are getting SO FAT! You really have to stop eating!” his deep laugh echoes sadistically inside her head.

    “Oh God! I’m sorry! I just can’t stop! too hungry! can’t help it! everything tastes so good! More! oh god oh god oh god!” she moans back between mouthfuls.

    He smiles baring his perfect teeth and says, “Why would a fatty like you want to stop? The pie is good isn’t it? Eat up now, it’s okay, there’s plenty more where that came from!”

    Finally, FINALLY the pie is gone. As have the rest of the buttons on her top. She squeezes and massages her flabby belly to ease its fullness, quivering with fear at how it now spills and wobbles over the edge of the chair between her legs, jiggling against her rounded thick thighs. She tries to lean back and whimpers at how soft and wide her hips seem to have gotten. She can barely believe how fat and heavy her arms are too. Even her shoulders are doughy. She is alarmed to discover that they can no longer rest parallel with her torso and instead are now pushed out from her sides, her elbows resting on a bed of blubber made up of several thick plump bulging side rolls with scarily deep folds. Her bra is cutting such deep crevices into her back fat its almost painful. Her massive boobs have become heavy balls of blubber. She looks down to see them almost pouring out of their inadequate support cups and then gasps as she feels how much fat is between her chin and her face. As she worriedly touches her face horrified at how fat and swollen her cheeks feel she catches site of her wrist and hands. She can barely believe they belong to her, looking all puffed up and inflated, her fingers resembling big fat frankfurters.

    She yelps as her bra suddenly gives way and her breasts bounce out and jiggle to rest on the curve of her overfull stomach. She tries to cover them with her hands for a moment but the effort of holding all that flesh in her heavy arms becomes quickly tiring. She can feel the heat radiating from her body like a furnace making her perspire a little.

    She slumps backwards, exhausted. She closes her teary eyes for a moment, pausing for a minute hoping it will allow her to catch her breath. As she takes several a deep breathes she is forced to admit to herself that the sensation of all her new soft smooth sensitive flesh squeezing and jiggling against itself isn’t entirely unpleasant. The thought sends a little tingle between her thighs. Naughty thoughts long buried in the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind begin to surface. Just the fact that she could contemplate feeling aroused after eating herself into such a massive fat pig horrifies her. She feels his gaze upon her even with her eyes closed. She can smell a sweet scent waft under her nostrils. It makes her nipples harden. She opens her eyes to be met with a mouthful of cheesecake. She moans and can’t help but massage her breasts as she eats, and eats, and eats.

    “Such a greedy piggy. You just like food so much it makes you horny doesn’t it piggy? Does my cheesecake give you a lady-boner?” he teases.

    Her face reddens, she bites her lip, so embarrassing! Erotic thoughts tickle her subconscious. She tries to block them out but she feels herself become wet regardless. Her wobbling belly is sending annoyingly pleasurably waves of fat across her fupa as its hefty weight dangles just over the edge of the seat front. She tries to subtly press her huge fat thighs together to relieve the tension building between them. The shift in weight makes her chair creak loudly, a long drawn out groan of overstressed wood. She dies inside of embarrassment. She tries to stay perfectly still to avoid any more such sounds.

    The chair creaks again. It’s making her so wet! Her face frowns, puzzled. Her belly feels like its starting to dangle in mid air off the front of the chair. Her eyes snap open as she realises her elbows are ever so slowly being parted even more. She feels her pulse begin to race as she realises she can actually feel herself still growing very slowly bigger, bigger, bigger by the second as her pie and cheesecake filled stomach churns away processing the remainder of all those calories. Her eyes widen and dart about in panic. How many pounds will she pack on?! Just how much fatter is she going to get?!! Her panic increasing she starts to flail her arms about and begins to sob,

    “Oh no! I’m getting even bigger!” she wails just as the back of her shorts explode, a tear right down the middle exposes the deepening crack between her two enormous fleshy buttocks. She continues to cry as she feels her large butt begin to spill off both sides of the chair, her fat pouring out and around the armrests which quickly become buried by her burgeoning flab. More seams creak and pop making her shudder. Finally after another minute or so the growth slows and subsides and leaving her in a big fat blubbery mess.

    “Oh why did I eat so much? I didn’t know it would make me THIS fat!” she sobs.

    “It’s okay porky! You can get as fat as you want here! My, my! Look at all this blubber! Yes just look at you! You have become quite the porker haven’t you?” he laughs poking her fat rolls and folds, his finger disappearing into her flab up to the last knuckle, “Poor hungry piggy! So fat and greedy. Such a hungry HUNGRY hippo!” he says in an almost seductive tone.

    As if hit by three strong punches to her gut, her massive tummy shakes violently. She whimpers as her stomach burbles loudly! This time its gurgles and rumbles are more like ferocious ravenous roars, so loud they causes little ripples to appear in her exposed fat. Then she notices the sweet aroma of pie in the air and her mouth begins to water.

    “I-Is that more pie? Oh god that smells good!” she whimpers, “Please you have to stop! I’m already as fat as a hog! I’m going to end up as big as a cow!”

    The aroma is so delicious its as if even just the scent itself must contain calories. She feels what’s left of her clothes tighten just a little more whilst the familiar sensation of hunger builds and builds within her huge belly. As she inhales another dose of the sweet aroma her eyes widen and an excited smile creeps around the edges of her chubby face.

    “… but it smells sooo good… oh GOD it smells good!” she says breathlessly licking her lips, having to wipe a little dampness from the corner of her lips with her chubby wrist. Now almost panting like a puppy dog she can barely contain her excitement as he begins to drag something into the room from the shadows. The closer it gets the more tempting it becomes.

    “Is it more pie? Please say its more pie! Oh god I LOVE pie so much! Hurry up and bring it here! I don’t even care what kind I just want to eat it all! HURRY UP!” she moans almost deliriously, her tongue furiously licking her lips.

    He very slowly wheels in an absolutely GIGANTIC pie. It’s so heavy he has to strain heavily to move the trolley upon which it sits. The diameter of the massive confection has to be at least three metres across!!

    Her face goes as white as a sheet. “It’s so big!” she gasps in horror suddenly realising the damage that much pie could do. She looks at him earnestly,

    “Oh please don’t let me eat it all, I’ll be HUGE! No! No! Please don’t bring it any closer!” she cries fearfully.

    He begins to laugh, saying with a rather patronizing tone,

    “But what’s the matter? I thought you said you want to eat it all? Aren’t you HUNGRY?”

    She grits her teeth and clutches her rumbling belly hard, still alarmed at how big and squishy it feels. Her mouth waters more and more. He pulls out a massive knife as long as a machete and chops through the crust of the giant pie.

    She breathes so heavily she nearly hyperventilates as some of the filling tumbles out of the crust. The sight and smell of what’s inside makes her feel giddy. The pie appears to be stuffed full of delicious looking donuts, muffins, cupcakes, Danishes, cinnamon swirls and all kinds of baked dessert treats! All suspended in various amounts of chocolate, cream, custard and jam filling. Never in her life has she seen something that looked so sinfully appetizing… or sinfully fattening.

    “No please I can’t, I mustn’t!” she moans whilst looking longingly at the sinfully fattening dessert.

    “Oh come now greedy cow, you know you want it! You’re such a hungry little glutton! Hungry hungry hungry! I bet you could finish the whole thing and still have room for more!” he says with a spine chillingly evil laugh.

    She stares at the pie like a deer caught in the headlights, sweating and breathing heavily, all 400 plus pounds of her newly rotund body quivering with anticipation, licking her lips urgently as the hunger wells up and up inside her, with a pained expression she moans,

    “Oh god it looks so good I can’t stand it! Bring it over here! I’m going to eat all of it!”

    Her pudgy face breaks out into a greedy smile as he slowly wheels it over to the table. He struggles to move it onto the table it’s just so heavy.

    “Hurry up! I’m starving! I’m going to finish that whole thing!” she says her face beaming with longing desire.

    The table bends slightly and groans like it’s about to break as it burdens the weight of the ridiculously large pie. She drums her fat fingers on her soft exposed belly flesh impatiently.

    As soon as it’s within reach of her chubby arms she grabs a donut from within the sticky sweet mixture and takes a nice large bite sighing with delight and moaning in approval. It tastes like heaven, a delicious donut coated in sweet warm mixture that tastes a like gooey icing!

    “So gwood!” she says blushing with a mouthful before taking another bite, still trying to be as lady-like as her uncontrollable gluttony would allow.

    “Oh yes piggy, I know. My, my, you really are an obscenely fat greedy hungry piggy aren’t you? Hungry, hungry, HUNGRY!”

    “Oh gwad ” she moans as she madly crams the rest of the donut in whole and grabs a apple Danish from the pie’s filling with one hand and a chocolate muffin with the other. As if she simply can’t decide which to eat first she tries to cram them in both at once getting sticky filling all over her face.

    “Yes that’s right! Go for it fatty! I know how HUNGRY you big girls can get,” his eyes and nostrils flare as he watches her helplessly gorge herself faster and faster.

    “Poor, poor, greedy HUNGRY piggy,” he teases, “But you’re going to get so FAT! Don’t you think you aught to slow down just a little? You’re getting as big as a cow!” he chuckles but his eyes shine wildly with lust.

    “Don’t  care! need! more!” she moans, gasping for air between swallows as if almost in pain from the hunger burning inside her.

    He walks around behind her and slaps her wobbling gelatinous butt, then he grabs hold of her thick rolls of back fat and leans in close to her ear whispering,

    “Typical fat girl. Never worry about the future when there’s food around do you? No you just have to stuff it into your HUNGRY fat face don’t you? Nothing else comes between a HUNGRY fat girl and her food does it? And, my word, you are getting so very fat, and so very HUNGRY aren’t you my obscenely bloated hog? HUNGRY as a horse. HUNGRY as a hippo. HUNGRY, HUNGRY, HUNGRY!”

    Earnestly stuffing herself faster and faster as his words mercilessly intensify her hunger ever more, enhancing her desire to fill herself up to the brim as fast as possible, to empty every last delicious morsel into her bottomless pit of a belly. Eating and eating, faster and faster, a disgusting spectacle of unrestrained gluttony, barely having time to gasp for air between every gulp of delicious sweet sinfully fattening confectionary. She can feel the desire to be filled overcoming her. An urge so primal. So hedonistically pleasurable. She’d always found that gorging herself to the limit had always had erotic undertones but eating so wildly and recklessly whilst he was teasing her was starting to make her nipples harden until they ached.

    “Hungry!” he says as he squeezes her side rolls making her moan. Tears of shame and pleasure stream from her eyes as she shovels away. She just can’t get the food inside herself fast enough!

    “Hungry!” he grabs a firm hold of her buttocks and squeezes them together, her wide hips and waist now starting to bend the armrests and back of the chair apart with considerable force, her body spilling off the edges of the seat in every direction. He squeezes them again and she begins to wiggle and squirm with his touch. Bits of chair explode as she breaks the arm rests clean off! Clearly having trouble containing her desire she presses her massive fat swelling thighs tightly together as she moans, desperately trying to cram food inside herself faster than she is capable of.

    He grabs her side rolls firmly with each hand, having to press his chin firmly into her blubbery shoulder and neck fat and his chest against her back rolls so that he can reach both sides at once. And then he gives her massive overhanging gut a nice big shake. Waves of blubber fly over every inch of her fat round body and she bursts from the remainder of her clothes moaning both from terror and desire. How could she even thing about sex whilst she was eating herself into a whale of a woman?!

    “HUNGRY!” he says in a deep guttural tone as he nuzzles the growing fat of her neck and shoulder.

    “Touch me! ” she moans between mouthfuls as she inhales a cream bun and chocolate chip cookie along with a nice big chunk of the pie’s amazingly delicious pastry crust.

    He grabs her huge flabby breast and begins massaging it, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger whilst sliding his other hand under her heavy belly and wobbling it around. She shudders as she can feel his arms getting tighter around her, knowing it means she must be getting even fatter.

    “Didn’t you ever stop to think where being a big fat insatiable greedy glutton might get you? Overeating until you’re the hungriest most insatiable glutton in the world! Hungry, hungry, HUNGRY!” he purrs.

    She feels her belly roar. Her impossible appetite grows more insatiable still. She pants desperately!

    “Oh no! Please help me! can’t eat fast enough!”

    He grins sadistically, “Hungry!”

    Tears well in her eyes,

    “Please! Mmph! No! I can’t take it! Mmph! Need more!” she says with her mouth so full it’s almost indecipherable.

    He chuckles, “What was that HUNGRY piggy?”

    She moans exasperated, her eyes pleading, “Need! More! MORE!!”

    And out of sheer desperation she suddenly heaves her entire now 500 plus pound body up off the creaking chair, crawls up on to the table and sticks her face directly into the pie!

    He begins to laugh, “Yes, yes, that’s more like it piggy!”

    His eyes and nostrils flare with intense power once again as he whispers some words in a foreign tongue. The table makes a sharp cracking sound and it collapses to the floor. She slides almost completely into the giant pie as the table-top crashes to the floor. She raises her head out of the thin top crust of the pie gasping for air.

    “OH GOD! I’M SO FAT! PLEASE STOP ME!” she blubbers and ploughs her face back into the pie’s sweet filling, scooping more into her swelling face with her thick ham like arms. She whimpers as her fat visibly inflates, her whole body creaking like an overfilled balloon. Even her face is swollen.

    “WHAT’S HAPPENING?! HELP ME! I’M GETTING TOO FAT!” she feels her thighs push her legs forcibly apart as they fill out with more fat, wobbling like giant jello-filled balloons.

    “IF I GET ANY FATTER I WON’T BE ABLE TO WALK!” she moans and then takes a huge bite of the pies pastry topping. Her form swells visibly once again, her belly so big it pushes back against the floor.

    WON’T BE ABLE TO MOVE!” she dives back into the delicious pie, her massive wobbling buttocks plumping up and up into the air, her breasts pushing up around her thickening neck and chins, her arms and legs spreading apart as she balloons with more and more fat.

    “PLEASE STOP! I’M SORRY FOR BEING SO GREEDY! PLEASE NO MORE FOOD! I’M GETTING TOO BIG! I CAN BARELY MOVE!

    “Ha! You think you’re fat now? Open wide HUNGRY piggy! You’re not even half full yet!” he says grinning wickedly, his eyes and nostrils flare with intense power once again as he whispers some words in a foreign tongue.

    “Oooo!” she cries alarmed as she suddenly finds her lips opening and forming a permanent ‘O’ shape. And then, with super human force, she finds herself sucking down the deliciously sweet and sticky chocolate custard cream filling at an impossible rate, swallowing donuts and cupcakes whole like she were some kind of confectionary vacuum cleaner! Her fat stubby limbs flailing about in alarm, her ability to move them increasingly hampered as they too inflate like balloons along with the rest of her..

    “No! Stop! Mmph! OH GOD SO GOOD! YES! YES! MORE!” her confused thoughts are unintelligible through the stream of delicious food flowing into her mouth.

    He admires her giant wobbling rear end sticking up into the air, and her huge tree-trunk like thighs, all visibly swelling with every passing moment. Her whole body now resting on her massive belly, it raises her up into the air a little more every second as she swells with new fat from all the thousands upon thousands of impossibly ingested calories. He kneels down beside her just outside the edge of the pie and gives the side of her belly a nice big rub and a squeeze.

    “Hahaha! Oh yes! Just a completely out of control aren’t you fatty! Look at all this blubber! Hundreds upon hundreds of pounds of you! Had enough yet or are you still HUNGRY?” he teases, his words slightly increasing the rate at which the pie is disappearing into her.

    Her response to this surprises even him. A fat chubby hand reaches out and grabs him by the belt buckle. Her stubby fingers fumbling, too fat to fit down the front of his trousers.

    He says a strange foreign sounding word and his clothes simply seem to melt away until he’s standing completely naked. His handsome body looks even more powerful. Trim and toned into perfect shape, a drastic comparison to her rotund almost ball like shape as her belly now not only touches the ground when on all fours but is splayed out bulging at her sides in a serious of massive fat rolls, the base of it pushing her enormously thick legs further and further apart as it swells between them, threatening to lift her knees off the ground to make room for its monstrous girth. Her ginormous wobbling ass cheeks slapping together as they rise higher and higher, inflating fuller and fuller with every passing second her unstoppable gluttony is allowed to continue.

    Before he can finish admiring her body he finds her chubby fingers clasped firmly around his huge erection. And then she pulls him in closer forcing him to quickly shuffle forward until she can ram him deep into one of her many folds of fat. They both moan loudly as he begins thrusting into her swelling flab again and again, choosing a different roll or fold each time!

    “Oh yes!” he cries.

    “ooooooo ” she moans.

    “Oh you’re such a naughty HUNGRY fat girl aren’t you! Gunna eat until you’re the size of a house are you?!” he yells between gasps of pleasure with each thrust working his way around her the fat of her body, thrusting between her belly and thighs, into a roll of fat starting to form on her legs, around behind her until he reaches her massive bulging underbelly and plump swollen fupa!

    As he inserts himself he begins to moan with every thrust,

    “HUNGRY!” “HUNGRY!” “HUNGRY!…” over and over.

    She moans both from pleasure and alarm as she feels the flow of pie filling her mercilessly increase with every gratifying thrust, faster and faster. Before long she’s inflating rapidly like a giant balloon attached to the end of his engorged member, sucking down all the pie until every last bite is crammed inside her, crust and all. Her belly gurgles and protests loudly.

    BUUUUURRP!

    “Oh!” she moans in discomfort, suddenly feeling achingly full. Her rumbling body creaks as her fat still continues to swell with naughty calories.

    “Eaten too much have you fatty?” he laughs as she continues to swell, her wobbling creaking fat pressing up against him more and more.

    “OOOOOHHH!” she moans as the impending feeling of a massive climax starts to bear down on her with the force of a freight train. Her eyes dart about as her fat cells continue to swell and swell with naughty calories plumping her up bigger, bigger, BIGGER!

    “Haha yes! Grow piggy! Grow! Look at what all those naughty calories are doing to you! You’re becoming the fattest girl there ever was!” he cries in pleasure. Slapping her rear, grabbing handfuls and handfuls of her naughty fat and sending it wobbling over and over. Her belly raises her up off the floor, her shoulders swell up into her neck and chin, her chin swells and pushes back whilst her chubby cheeks also bulge with new growth. Her sides widen, her achingly huge soft breasts spill out to the floor as they too inflate with fat like giant balloons. Her thighs and calves thicken until they’re so round they look ready to burst. Her butt wobbles even more as it rises and widens, so huge her butt is nearly towering over him as he continues to fuck her like a big fat piggy! Huge shockwaves of fat travelling through her buttocks as his entire body thrusts connect with her. With her immovably fattened arms sticking straight out to her sides her form almost resembles the Good Year Blimp! How much fatter could she possibly get? How much would she weigh? A thousand pounds?! Two thousand?!! EVEN MORE?!!! The realisation that she’s turning into a literal mountain of blubber makes her blush harder than ever! All she can do is moan and grow as all the calories in her overstuffed belly inject her with yet even more fat!

    “Oh dear fatty! I really think you may have overdone it! This is far too fat! You’re becoming an obscene blob or lard! You’re getting as round a ball! You look ready to blow! Oh dear you fat girls just never have enough self-control do you?!” he continues to tease, “I do hope my poor piggy doesn’t burst from being too greedy! How embarrassing! This piggy was so greedy she just ate and ate until she exploded!” he says as they both begin to cum like a monsoon.

    She screams in both fear and pleasure as still fatter and fatter she grows, both of them climaxing over and over until they simply can’t any more. His very last thrust leaves them both completely exhausted, and her a massive grinning immobile ball of fat.

    And then her world begins to fade to a white light. A thought that perhaps her heart has given out and she’s passing beyond makes her panic for a second but then her vision returns and she realises she sitting back in her chair, her weight having returned to her regular one eighty to two hundred pound range. The table appears to be back intact as well, and on it rests a delicious looking pie. Next to it is a note that reads,

    “I thought a pretty lady as hungry as you might want seconds! Keep this pastry safe, it will last forever, and if you ever want another round simply take a sinful bite.

    Yours eternally, Lucifer xoxoxo”

    She jiggles her little belly gleefully and takes a large bite…

    ~ ( . ) ~ (  .  ) ~ (  .  ) ~ (   .   ) ~ (   .   ) ~ (    .    ) ~ (   .     ) ~

    I push another dinner cart piled high with cakes into your room. What a sight. Even I can’t believe what you’ve done to yourself over the last few years.

    I knew you had an appetite, that you liked being a ‘big girl’ when we met and you were a mere 300 lbs. Nothing could have prepared me for how you’d let yourself go. You knew I loved watching you eat, and the effect it had on your figure, but eating is all you seemed to do. You always wanted more, always pushed yourself to your limit. Soon I was spending all day trying to keep you full, listening to you whine for more, watching you descend into pure hedonistic gluttony.

    Your weight crept higher and higher, past 400, past 650…until you were no longer able to get up anymore. It didn’t stop you though. You didn’t care. You just wanted more food. You must be close to 1,000 lbs by now, I’ve no idea. All I know I’d I’ve never seen anyone as fat and as greedy as you.

    You see the cakes on the cart, and despite already being stuffed full, I hear you gasp “feed me”…

    Cake & Sex

    It took her ten minutes to roll onto her side. She’d become so horrendously fat that this simple task was like running the hundred metres to her. Maybe it was the ‘bait’ of a whole chocolate fudge cake that he’d laid just out  of reach of her, maybe it was because they both enjoyed the ‘struggle’, seeing just how far her greed had taken her, just how fat she’d eaten herself.

    After much wobbling and shaking, catching her breath, she was finally in position. Her belly pooled out in front of her, a seemingly endless swathe of soft, heavy flesh, rolls seemed to pile upon rolls. Her eyes fixed on the cake, she wanted it, NEEDED it. He asked her to lift her leg into the air but it was simply too heavy for her weakened muscles to move, so he did it himself. The weight of it was incredible. Thigh fat, calf fat, it seeemed to go on forever. He could just support it’s weight, barely able to get his arms around it’s fatty circumference. He struggled to enter his mountainous beauty, but she didn’t seem to care. She just wanted to eat. She was aware of her body rocking back and forth, but all she cared about was cake. More. Cake.

    18 months

    It had been over a year since he’s seen her last. Being separated for so had been hard, and he couldn’t wait to see her again. Especially as she’d mentioned she’d gained a few pounds when they spoke on the phone to arrange a reunion. Imagining his 300 lbs flame haired beauty even bigger was driving him wild with excitement, but nothing could have prepared him for what greeted him when he got to her front door.

    At first he though there was no one in, it seemed to take an age for anyone to come to the door. When it opened it became clear why. Jen had positively exploded with fat in the last 18 months. Rolls of fat seemed to cascade from every part of her body. She was wearing a t-shirt that rode up over her gigantic double belly, the lower portion of which hung down to her dimples knees. Her thighs were massive rolling sacks of blubber that must’ve been near impossible to move. Her bra-less breasts filled the rest and formed a huge cleavage that burst out of the neck line. The shirt was smeared with ice cream from the carton she was clutching with her pudgy fingers. Her lustrous red hair framed her fat, flushed face as she caught her breath.

    She chugged the remaining melted ice cream straight from the carton, breathlessly wiped her mouth with the back of her fat hand (displaying just how big her arms had become, a huge upper arm hanging and wobbling in the process) and smiled. “…Hi!…huff…I…gasp..hope you…brought some…treats…I’m…I’m…starving”

    Visit

    The mini-van creaked to a stop. He glanced in the rear view and caught sight of her. She was just finishing another bucket of fried chicken, he saw her lazily toss it to the floor with the others and reach for a box of donuts.

    “We’re here” he called, but she didn’t notice, or seem to care, she was too engrossed in pushing donuts into her beautifully fat face.

    He jumped out and slid open the side door. A few empty cartons fell onto the road as he began the task of getting his enormous girlfriend out of the car. He took her free hand as the other plopped the last donut into her mouth. As she shifted in her seat, bits of food fell from her enormous front. At almost 750 lbs, she was incredibly difficult to move. She was crammed into a t-shirt that was far too small do her, it exposed her enormous double belly and her breasts were smashed together and spilling out of the neck. She tried to swing her vast leg out of the car, but even this task was proving too much effort. Her body wobbled and shaked, she had to keep stopping to catch her breath. Eventually, after much struggling, she was ready to attempt standing. She shifted the weight of her belly forward and as he pulled her she tried to stand. It took five attempts, Gravity pulling her rolls of fat toward the ground, her legs clearly unsteady. She was completely breathless now. Only in her late twenties but completely exhausted just by standing up.

    He handed her her walking canes and watched her proceed to shuffle up the driveway. She must be starving by now, he thought to himself.

    He was conscious of being watched from the window, as he looked up, he saw her parents, jaws wide open, incredulous at the sight of what their daughter had become…

    Dinner time for Jen

    The anticipation was almost too much for her to bear. Even though she’s been eating pretty much all day, it was the “evening meal” she looked forward to the most.

    He’d get her to walk from the couch to the bedroom first of all. A simple task for a “normal” person, but at over 600 lbs it was becoming hard for her to stand up, let alone walk. The struggle, the way her rolls of fat would wobble and shake, how breathless she would get just from shuffling her gigantic, bulging form across the room on served to underline just how far she’d gone, how truly fat she really was.

    By the time she arrived at the bed, she was exhausted, breathing heavily, ready to lie down. He’d help her into bed, make sure she was comfortable. He’d ask if she was hungry. A stupid question. He knew she was ravenous. The “exercise” she’d just completed had made sure of that.

    He’d leave her for just a few minutes, an eternity to her, she was hungry, so hungry. She needed food now. Needed to be satiated. To be full. She wanted to eat and eat and eat.

    He would duly return with a dinner cart overflowing with food. Lasagne, macaroni and cheese, cheesecake and donuts, cartons of her favourite ice cream. She needed to be fed, craved for him to empty it all into her. She lay there, a mountain of obscene obesity, mouth open in anticipation of the barrage of food about to be brought to her lips.

    And so it began, more and more food brought to her, all she had to do was chew and swallow. She couldn’t get enough…more, more, MORE. He’d tell her how greedy she was, how she couldn’t control herself. It only made her eat faster. God, she *needed* more. He’d tell her how he never wanted her to stop getting fatter, how soon she’d be stuck in this bed forever, all because of how gluttonous she truly was. He was right…she never wanted to stop.

    Jen

    He couldn’t quite believe what she had become. He knew she wanted to truly let go, submit to her craving for food, to completely lose control. But seeing her laid there, overfilling the bed she hadn’t left in months, breathlessly pushing food into her face with her fat hands, it still shocked him to see what she’d done to herself. He knew she couldn’t help it, that she couldn’t stop even if she thought she wanted to. Judging by the way she inhaled the cheeseburgers he’d just brought in to her, that was a given. She was too far gone, and she was only going to get fatter. He’d make sure of that. The two of them were like a perfect storm. Both addicted, her to food, him to seeing her grow bigger each day.

    The Walk

    She knew he’d be home in an hour, but the feeling of desperation was becoming too much to bear. He’d left her on the couch this morning with what he thought was enough food feed twelve people for the day, surely enough for his “little” princess. But these days she wasn’t so little, and after all this time he should have known it wasn’t quite enough. She knew he’d make up for it when he returned, but until then, the gnawing hunger, the need to keep eating, was making her have to consider something serious. Leaving the couch to venture into the kitchen…

    She’d already made her way through mountains of waffles, Danish pastries, pancakes and fried bacon, blurring into several large pizzas, cake bars, chips, chocolates and milk, then a box of 24 donuts, a cheesecake and a huge chocolate fudge cake. As she forced the last piece of cake into her mouth, she automatically reached out for more, but there was no more. She sat for five minutes, breathing heavily after the day’s consumption…but the craving for food would not go away. She had to have more.

    She struggled to move herself into an upright position, as she did so crumbs and chunks of food cascaded off her large, heavy chest. Her vast stomach say proudly between her big, doughy thighs, sagging off the couch and making its way toward the floor (not quite touching it…but surely another few months of being fed by her man would take care of that). Standing on her own had become incredibly difficult after she’d passed 700 lbs, but she was desperate to get to the fridge. She needed to keep eating. She couldn’t wait an hour for him to get back. She needed it now.

    She was already gasping for breath just from the effort of sitting up, now she began to rock her body back and forth to try and get enough momentum to stand. Rolls of flesh wobbled and slapped together as she did so, her face becoming ever more flushed with exertion. With one final push she managed to stand, the agony of all her weight being supported by her weak legs only surpassed by her need to eat. It would be worth it, she thought.

    She steadied herself by placing a hand on the wall, still struggling to recover fronts the effort. The realisation that it had become almost impossible to do something so simple as stand up only made her hungrier, and hornier. God she wished he’d get back soon.

    Feeling recovered, she then began the arduous task of walking ten feet to the kitchen. Moving one fat laden leg past the other was so hard, she managed to shuffle slowly forwards, her heart pounding with effort. She felt like she was running a marathon, but she was moving like a snail. She edged closer to the fridge door, her mind starting to race at the thought of reaching it, of opening it, of emptying its contents into her desperate stomach. Closer, closer, her body swaying and shaking with every small step.

    She stopped half way, fighting to breathe, feeling like her heart would pop out of her chest. If only she wasn’t so out of shape. But what else would you expect after years of non stop gorging? She’d no one to blame but herself…and him. He always knew how to press her buttons, make her eat more than she thought possible. This was the result. A shuffling mountain of flesh barely able to walk ten feet.

    Onwards, she reached out for the fridge as she became close enough to just touch it. She slumped towards it, the fridge groaning slightly as she put her whole weight on it. She swung the door open breathlessly and grabbed the first thing she saw. Mayonnaise. She squeezed the fatty condiment straight into her mouth, slurping and swallowing desperately. More. More. A whole fried chicken. Chocolate eclairs. Cans of whipped cream. More. She needed more. She opened the freezer to find tubs of chocolate ice cream, and sitting on the floor she began to scoop the ice cream into her mouth with her hands. She was lost in gluttony. The exertion of the walk had sent her over the edge. She could only think about food. Eating. More. She wanted to be fatter. The fattest. More. More. More.

    Only the sound of the front door unlocking broke her out of her stupor…

    starlightfeedings

    I’m going to make you so fat that your friends will just gasp in disbelief

    zaftig-thirst-trap

    I feel like this is a theme that needs more love. "I'm going to make you so fat that..."

    • You're oozing out of your old clothes.

    • You can't go five minutes without the compulsive, pig-like urge to snack.

    • Your family starts talking about giving you a food addiction intervention.

    • Random strangers wrinkle their nose in disgust as you waddle by, wheezing and huffing.

    • Normal shower stalls, seatbelts, chairs and bar stools are impossible to use with your swollen, porcine girth crushing or overflowing them.