fictionalfatties

[fictionalfatties]

Boy so fat #5

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I want to go on a blind date with a pathetically out-of-shape superchub. To a buffet, naturally.

I’ll already be sitting at a table when he arrives, and I’ll be taken aback by his size when I first lay eyes on him. He’ll be sharply dressed: a simple (albeit enormous) purple v-neck sweater paired with stretch-waistband khaki trousers. His pants are pulled over his belly and it’s clear that his overhang rests heavily about 8 inches above his knees. Its breadth makes it almost impossible for his pants to be pulled up far enough to cover the fleshy midriff beneath his tight sweater. Self conscious, he repeatedly pulls down on his sweater to ensure he isn’t exposing himself as he waddles towards my table. His fingers can hardly reach his waistband, and with each forced step his pants slip a little bit lower.

His smart attire contrasts starkly with his gate, which is an uncoordinated, laboured mess. Before we met, he told me that he gave up on any sort of excess physical activity a little over a year ago, and it shows. Despite his size, his face and legs are surprisingly thin. The rest of him, however, has the muscle tone of a lava lamp. His belly, chest and lovehandles wobble and roll around unsympathetically as he moves across the dining room. His walk seems unnatural and complicated, each step a reactionary series of motions used to keep himself moving forward without losing his balance: shifting his mass from one foot to the other, his thighs pushing against his overhang, his arms swaying ferociously with intermittent attempts to hike his pants back up or pull down on his sweater. What a show.

His face lights up when he reaches the table. I stand up and extend an arm to shake his hand. He enthusiastically mirrors the gesture, stepping forward. Before our hands touch, however, his overhang hits his chair, knocking it into the table. Embarrassed, he mumbles something about recent growth. I smile and invite him to take a seat. He graciously accepts and comments on the length of the walk from the entrance to the table. He’ll say something like, “boy, did you purposely choose the furthest place to sit?”, and I’ll feel my cock grow knowing that he isn’t joking.

He pulls his chair several feet away from our table and carefully lowers himself. His face scrunches under the strain, and he freefalls the last foot. He exhales loudly upon impact and his gelatinous cleavage bounces visibly through the reveal in his strained v-neck. We exchange pleasantries, during which time I’ll recognize how relieved he is to be seated. I offer to make the first trip to the buffet station on his behalf, and he happily obliges.

I let the feeder get the better of me, and return with several plates piled high with the fattiest offerings. I place them in front of him, and to my surprise he doesn’t so much as bat an eye. Instead, he casually thanks me and prepares to dig in. I sit down across from him and start a friendly conversation. I can’t help but notice how far forward he has to lean to be able to reach the table. He greedily shovels food into his mouth with one limb while his other helps support himself on the table. The amazing weight of his hanging belly threatens to pull him off his chair should his arm give out.

I guide the conversation towards his size, and he reveals the history of his most recent gains. He’s been living on his own in a downtown apartment for the last two years, and although he was by no means svelte beforehand, he was far from the heaving mass of fat seated before me. He explains that he’s committed himself to becoming as out-of-shape as possible. Between bites, he tells me how he strictly limits any and all physical exertion. He has his groceries delivered and only has to venture as far as his front door to pick them up. On the days that he receives his groceries, the effort of waddling to the door and stocking his kitchen pantry meets his daily quota for physical activity. He says he showers every second day, as that in itself is akin to a heavy-duty workout. On the days that he does laundry down the hall, he brings a sturdy folding stool with him. He says that he simply can’t stand for that long without his back hurting and that he doesn’t want his legs to get used to the weight.

As he continues eating it becomes increasingly difficult for him to maintain his side of the conversation. He’s breathing extremely heavily and is starting to sweat profusely. Before long, I can see that his left arm - which had been serving as a kick-stand for his humongous body - is starting to shake under the strain. He repositions his hand every few bites to keep himself in arms-reach of his food, leaving a sweaty hand print each time. It’s amazingly erotic. This hunk is a total slave to his fatty food.

He drops his fork triumphantly after polishing his fourth and final plate. He lets his arms drop to his sides as he leans back in his chair, clearly relieved to have a chance to catch his breath. He reminds me of a hockey player that’s just come off the ice… his flushed face is covered in sweat - even his hair is completely soaked.

I’m fucking aroused.

I ask him if he wants more. He sheepishly bites his lip and nods yes. I tell him to get up.

He doesn’t balk at the idea, even though I have my doubts as to whether or not he even has the strength or cardio vascular ability to stand right now. He slides his chair back a little bit further and raises himself a few inches before falling back into his chair. I offer an extended hand for him to hold on to, but he shoos it away. He takes a deep breath and tries again. He groans loudly as his weak legs lift him out of his chair, causing the couple a few tables over to look over with visible concern. His hands instinctively grasp for his waistline but are met with slick, sweaty, bare flesh. His pants have slipped just a few inches out of his reach, and he knows that if he starts waddling now, that the oscillation of his lard-filled belly and love handles will literally start undressing himself as he moves. His eyes meet mine in a silent request for assistance, and I pick up on the cue. I move close to him, ensuring that he can feel my bulge pressing into his overhang. Holding his gaze, I reach down and pull his pants up higher for him, supporting his heavy overhang in the process. The temporary relief throws his balance. I let go and his belly flops downwards causing him to him to huff involuntarily. I readjust the bottom of his sweater and give one of his lovehandles a healthy slap. His moobs bounce in the aftershock. I reassure him that he should be good for a little while and invite him to follow me to the buffet.

I join the lineup and look back to find that my date has fallen behind. He’s waddling towards me with great difficulty. His legs are doing double duty; working hard to support his weight while effectively lifting his overhang with each forced step. This, of course, compounded by not having fully recovered from the exertion of part 1 of his feast. His heart must be pounding a mile a minute. He joins me in the line and breathlessly asks if I’d mind helping him carry a few plates. I graciously accept. He grabs a large dinner plate and gets to work. He piles one with several pounds of gravy-soaked mashed potatoes and slides it towards me to carry. He grabs another plate, and fills it with a family-sized portion of pasta in a creamy alfredo sauce. This boy means business. He grabs a third plate and stacks a half dozen slices of pizza on it. As we start to make our way back to the dining hall, he admits that he doesn’t think his legs can carry him all the way back to our table. “They’re starting to shake”, he says. I run ahead and find an empty booth, quickly sliding the table fully over to one side to accommodate his size. Although he isn’t especially huge, it’s incredible just how out of shape he is. For a guy as young as he is and his size, it’s amazing how winded even the slightest physical activity is leaving him. I should note that I certainly don’t mind, and it’s clear that he doesn’t mind as well.

He shuffles towards the booth and drops his plates on the repositioned table before squeezing onto the bench. Even with the table pushed far enough over to render the other side of the booth unusable, his soft upper belly still rolls generously onto the table, wrinkling the tablecloth as he wiggles himself into a comfortable position. His legs are thrust comically apart to accommodate his belly, leaving just enough space left on the bench for me to sit next to him. Ready for the encore, he begins digging ferociously into his food.

He continues the symphony right where he left off. His breathing becomes more and more laboured, borderline wheezing when he takes a short breaks between bites. His cheeks are red and sweat is dripping off of his face, further soaking the part of his sweat-covered moobs visible through his v-neck sweater. Our server noticed the change of table, and kindly brings over a pair of frosty glasses and two pitchers of soda. My date pounds through them at a ferocious rate, belching as he scoffs down his mashed potatoes. As he plows through his second course, his whole body oscillates rhythmically in tune with his laboured breathing. The more he eats, the faster the rhythm becomes. His whole belly rocks fore and aft, a large roll of fat sticking to the paper tablecloth as it pushes inwards and outwards repeatedly. Is he fucking the backside of his overhang while he eats? The pace intensifies. His body works in overdrive as his subtle thrusting quickens. His heartbeat bangs loudly in his ears and his hands shake as they shovel food into himself. Sweat soaks through his sweater and beads down the back of his neck as he shoves slice after slice of greasy pizza into his mouth. He finishes his last morsel of food, but hasn’t yet completed the performance. He continues ramming the underside of his belly, breathing heavier and heavier. Finally he grabs my hand and squeezes tightly as his whole body tenses, his underused legs shaking during his last prolonged thrust. He moans softly in ecstasy.

A server passes by just as he wipes the sweat off his face with a large napkin. “Can I bring the bill, gentleman?”, he asks encouragingly.

“No”, my date answers, wheezing. “I haven’t had dessert yet.”

[fictionalfatties]

GROWING HIS WIFE BEYOND LIMITS

Female Feedee and Male Feeder

-Part 1-

James had always loved cooking. For him, food was more than just sustenance—it was love, care, and devotion, all served on a plate. And no one deserved his love more than Emily, his sweet, gentle girlfriend who had stolen his heart from the very first moment they met.

From the beginning, he had made it his mission to spoil her with homemade meals. Every evening, after work, he would roll up his sleeves and prepare something special—creamy pastas, slow-roasted meats, rich, buttery desserts. He experimented with spices, flavors, and textures, always ensuring that each meal was an experience, not just dinner.

Emily adored his cooking. She would take a bite, close her eyes, and let out a little sigh of pleasure. "James, this is amazing," she’d say, her voice full of warmth. "I don’t think I’ve ever eaten better in my life."

Her appreciation fueled him. Every day, he pushed himself to make something even better than the last. It wasn't just about the taste—it was about making her feel cherished, about seeing her eyes light up when she saw what he had made.

And Emily? She never held back. She ate every bite, savoring each dish. She loved the way his food made her feel—warm, comforted, loved. The portions were big, but she never minded. She didn't even notice at first when her jeans became a little snug, or when her reflection in the mirror softened.

But James noticed. He noticed the way her cheeks became rounder, the way her stomach became softer, how her curves filled out more. And he loved it. To him, it was a sign that she was happy, that she trusted him, that she felt safe with him.

"Are you sure I should be eating this much?" Emily laughed one evening, patting her stomach playfully as she finished off another generous plate of his famous lasagna.

"Of course," James said, grinning as he wiped some sauce from her lips. "You're perfect just the way you are."

She blushed but didn't argue. After all, how could she resist the man she loved, especially when he cooked for her with such passion?

And so, she continued to indulge, and he continued to cook, their love growing richer and warmer with every meal shared.

-Part 2-

As the months passed, Emily’s love for James’ cooking only deepened. She had always enjoyed his meals, but now, it had become something she looked forward to every day. The moment she walked through the door, the smell of sizzling butter, slow-roasted meats, or freshly baked bread welcomed her like a warm embrace.

And James? He loved nothing more than watching her enjoy every bite. He had always cooked with passion, but for her, he put even more heart into it.

At first, she hadn’t noticed the changes in herself. The meals had grown larger, her appetite stronger, and James never hesitated to offer seconds—or even thirds. She ate happily, her stomach full and warm, her body slowly softening in the comfort of his love.

But soon, little signs became harder to ignore. Her pants, once a perfect fit, now resisted when she tried to button them. Sitting down meant feeling the waistband press into her stomach, a reminder of the meals she had devoured with such delight.

One evening, after another one of James’ feasts—a creamy chicken alfredo with garlic bread and a rich chocolate cake for dessert—she leaned back in her chair, patting her belly with a satisfied sigh.

"You outdid yourself again," she murmured, licking the last bit of frosting from her finger.

James chuckled, his eyes filled with warmth as he watched her. "I just love seeing you enjoy my food," he admitted.

She stretched, feeling her shirt ride up slightly over her softening middle. "I think my clothes are getting smaller," she laughed, tugging at the waistband of her jeans. The button barely held, a slight gap forming between the fabric.

James smirked. "Maybe they are. Or maybe you’re just enjoying life a little more."

Emily considered that for a moment. Most people might have seen the extra weight as a reason to cut back, but why should she? She was happy—happier than she had ever been. She loved James, and she loved his food. So why stop?

With a playful smile, she reached for the last piece of garlic bread. "Well, since you worked so hard on this meal, it would be rude to let any of it go to waste."

James grinned as she took another bite, his heart swelling with love. He had always dreamed of taking care of someone like this, and now, he had Emily—a woman who embraced his love, his cooking, and everything that came with it.

And so, as the weeks went on, Emily continued to enjoy every meal, her belly growing softer, her clothes fitting tighter, yet she never once considered slowing down. Not when James was always there, ready to serve her another plate, always smiling, always loving her just the way she was.

-Part 3-

James had always poured his heart into his cooking, but now, he took things to the next level. Every meal became a five-star indulgence—rich, decadent, and overflowing with flavor. He meticulously planned each dish, adding more butter, cream, and cheese, ensuring every bite was a masterpiece of indulgence.

Emily had never eaten better in her life. Each meal left her completely satisfied, yet always craving more. She had long given up on portion control—why stop when every bite was crafted with such love? She trusted James completely, and if he thought she should eat, who was she to argue?

At first, her body had softened gradually, but now, with James' intensified cooking, her figure changed faster. Her belly, once just a subtle curve, became more prominent, pushing out even beneath her loose sweaters. Wider clothes could no longer fully hide how plush she had become.

Her thighs grew thicker, pressing together when she walked, her hips rounding out generously. Even her face had softened, her cheeks carrying a hint of fullness that made her look even more radiant in James’ eyes.

It didn’t take long before her pants became more than just snug—they were practically unwearable. Every time she tried to button them, she struggled, sucking in her belly only for the fabric to refuse. At first, she laughed it off, but eventually, she stopped trying altogether, switching to stretchy leggings and flowy dresses instead.

One evening, after an extravagant dinner—perfectly seared steaks, buttery mashed potatoes, and a triple-layered chocolate cake—Emily leaned back with a deep, contented sigh. Her belly pressed firmly against her dress, taut and full from the feast.

“James,” she murmured, lazily rubbing her stomach. “That was… incredible. But I think you’re trying to make me burst.”

James chuckled, sitting beside her, his eyes admiring the fullness of her body, the way she looked so completely satisfied. “I just want to make sure you’re happy,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

She smiled, warmth spreading through her—not just from the food, but from the love in his voice. “I am,” she whispered. “And as long as you keep cooking like this, I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

James grinned, already planning tomorrow’s feast. He had no intention of stopping either.

-Part 4-

As James’ cooking became even more extravagant, Emily found herself indulging like never before. Every meal was a feast, overflowing with flavor, butter, and richness, designed to satisfy her deepest cravings. But with every bite, her appetite only grew.

At first, she had stopped at feeling full. Then, she started eating past that, pushing her limits with every meal. Now, it had become routine—she would eat until her belly ached, stretched tight and round from all the food. She never intended to go that far, but James’ meals were just too irresistible.

And James? He loved it. He had always adored cooking for her, but seeing how much she enjoyed it, how much she trusted him to care for her in this way, filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction. He made more food than ever before, ensuring that no plate was left empty, that she never had to stop before she truly wanted to.

Her body reflected his devotion. Her belly, once just soft and round, now filled her lap when she sat, pressing against her thighs with a weight that was impossible to ignore. No shirt could fully cover her anymore—her stomach constantly peeked out, jiggling slightly with every step. If she stretched too much or ate too fast, the fabric rode up, exposing the full, heavy curve of her middle.

One evening, James set down yet another indulgent meal—slow-cooked barbecue ribs, macaroni and cheese swimming in butter, cornbread with honey, and a thick slice of peanut butter cheesecake for dessert. Emily’s eyes widened, but her stomach growled eagerly.

“You’re trying to make me explode,” she teased, giving her exposed belly a soft pat before picking up her fork.

James smirked, sitting beside her, watching as she dug in. “I just want to make sure my girl is well-fed,” he murmured, placing a warm hand on her thigh.

She ate, savoring every bite, even as the familiar tightness built in her stomach. Before long, she leaned back, groaning softly, her belly rounding out over her waistband, stuffed beyond full. “Oof… I think I might have overdone it,” she murmured, rubbing the heavy curve of her stomach.

James chuckled, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “You always say that, and yet…” He pushed the plate with the cheesecake toward her, his voice playful.

Emily glanced at it, hesitated for only a moment, then smiled. “Well… it *is* your cooking.” She picked up her fork again, taking another bite despite the pressure in her belly.

James watched, his heart swelling with love. She trusted him completely, let him take care of her in the most intimate way. And he wouldn’t stop—not now, not ever.

Tomorrow, he’d make an even bigger meal.

-Part 5-

James had never held back when it came to cooking for Emily, but now, his passion had reached new heights. Every meal was bigger, richer, more indulgent than the last. Butter, cream, and fat weren’t just ingredients—they were the foundation of every dish. If something could be deep-fried, smothered in sauce, or coated in melted cheese, James made sure it was.

And Emily? She devoured it all.

Her body had changed drastically. Her belly, once a soft curve, had grown into a heavy, round dome that rested in her lap, pressing against anything in its path. It wobbled with every step, jiggling freely as no shirt could contain it anymore. The weight of her growing body pushed against her clothes—her leggings stretched so tightly over her thickened thighs that they left deep marks, and her bras strained against the sheer fullness of her chest, digging into her soft skin.

But she never considered stopping. Not when James kept feeding her, spoiling her with love and care in every dish.

Then came the night James decided to go all out.

He spent the entire day preparing a meal unlike anything before. A feast made almost entirely of butter and fat—deep-fried meats soaked in heavy cream, potatoes swimming in melted cheese and bacon grease, biscuits so buttery they dripped with every bite, and a dessert of thick, custard-filled pastries coated in whipped cream. It was the most indulgent thing he had ever made, and he placed it before her with a loving smile.

Emily’s eyes widened at the sheer size of the feast, but her stomach growled, eager. She had eaten massive meals before, but this… this was something else.

“You’re really testing my limits,” she teased, pressing a hand to the curve of her exposed belly.

James smirked, sitting beside her, watching her closely. “I just want to see how much my girl can handle.”

She grinned and picked up her fork.

From the first bite, she was lost in the overwhelming richness. The flavors melted on her tongue, each dish heavier and more indulgent than the last. Bite after bite, she kept going, pushing past fullness, past the growing tightness in her stomach.

Halfway through, she leaned back, her belly visibly distended, her leggings cutting tightly into her expanding waist. Her bra felt unbearable, digging into her swollen chest, yet she kept eating.

James massaged her belly gently, his touch sending warmth through her already overheated body. “You’re doing amazing,” he murmured.

She groaned, shifting as she swallowed another bite. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this full…”

Yet she didn’t stop. Not until every last bite was gone.

By the time she finished, she could barely move. Her belly stretched outward, taut and round, her body flushed from the sheer effort of eating so much. She let out a deep sigh, pressing both hands to the heavy curve of her stomach.

James leaned in, kissing her softly. “You did it,” he whispered. “I’m so proud of you.”

Emily smiled weakly, completely stuffed, completely content. She had never felt so full, so heavy… and so completely loved.

-Part 6-

Emily had always known she was getting bigger, but at some point, it became impossible to ignore. She had outgrown her old clothes long ago, but now, even the largest leggings squeezed her thighs like overstuffed sausages, and bras dug so painfully into her chest that wearing them felt unbearable.

So she gave up on them entirely.

At home, she wore only loose, flowing slips and crop tops—the only things that still fit, though even they struggled to cover her. Her belly had grown so large, so heavy, that it surged forward past her waistband, hanging free no matter what she wore. Even her crop tops, meant to be oversized, barely reached past her chest, leaving the full swell of her stomach exposed.

And James? He loved it.

He never once made her feel embarrassed or ashamed. If anything, he encouraged her, treating every new inch of softness as something to be celebrated.

Her growth had spiraled out of control, fueled by his ever-expanding meals. What once had been indulgent feasts became daily routines—massive breakfasts dripping with syrup and butter, lunches that could feed entire families, and dinners so rich they left her breathless. And still, she ate, her stomach stretching to accommodate every bite, her appetite seemingly endless.

One evening, after another massive meal, she lay sprawled out on the couch, her belly rising high, taut and round from the sheer amount of food inside her. James sat beside her, his hand resting gently on the curve of her stomach, feeling the warmth of her overfilled belly beneath his fingers.

“I can’t believe how much I ate…” she murmured, her voice drowsy with fullness. She shifted slightly, but even that small movement made her belly jiggle heavily, settling deeper against her thickened thighs.

James chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her exposed skin. “You say that every time, and yet you always manage to eat more the next day.”

She smirked, rubbing slow circles over her distended belly. “That’s because your food is too good.”

He grinned, watching her with adoration. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep feeding you.”

Emily let out a soft laugh, closing her eyes. She knew she was growing faster than she could handle, that her body was changing in ways she never expected—but she didn’t care. Not when she had James beside her, cooking for her, loving her, making sure she was always full, always satisfied.

And as long as he kept making meals, she would keep eating.

-Part 7-

Emily’s appetite had grown beyond even her own control. At first, she ate because she loved James’ cooking. Then, she ate because it had become a routine, an expectation, a comfort. But now… now, she ate because she couldn’t stop.

She didn’t even think about it anymore. If food was in front of her, she ate. Whether she was hungry or not didn’t matter—her body had been trained to accept more, to stretch further, to indulge beyond any reasonable limit.

And James noticed.

He had always loved feeding her, but now, he saw an opportunity. A way to push her even further. He had realized something fascinating—after Emily had eaten herself into a tight, swollen state, when her belly was packed full and round, she still kept eating if more food was put in front of her.

So he tested it.

One evening, after she had already eaten an enormous meal—an entire roasted chicken, butter-drenched mashed potatoes, a mountain of mac and cheese, and thick, creamy biscuits—he watched her lean back, groaning softly, hands cradling the immense swell of her stuffed belly.

“Ugh… I don’t think I can move,” she mumbled, her breath slow and heavy.

James sat beside her, pressing a gentle hand against her taut stomach. It was hard beneath his fingers, stretched from the sheer volume of food inside her. She looked completely, utterly full.

And yet…

He stood up and disappeared into the kitchen. A moment later, he returned with a massive plate of chocolate-drizzled pastries, each one glistening with thick, sugary glaze. He placed it in front of her without a word, simply watching.

Emily blinked, staring at the food, her stuffed belly rising and falling with each deep breath. “James…” she groaned, shifting slightly. “I already ate so much…”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice soothing. “But look at these. They’re still warm. You love these, don’t you?”

She hesitated for only a moment. Then, almost on instinct, she reached out, grabbed one, and took a slow, deliberate bite. The pastry melted in her mouth, rich and sweet, and before she could think twice, she reached for another.

James smirked. His theory was correct.

No matter how full she got, no matter how stretched and swollen her belly became, if he put food in front of her, she would eat.

And he wasn’t about to stop now.

So he kept going. Every night, he prepared more food than before, waiting for that moment when she sighed, leaned back, and said she couldn’t possibly eat another bite. And then, he placed another dish in front of her. Sometimes she hesitated, sometimes she groaned, but in the end, she always ate.

Her body grew faster than ever. Her belly, once a soft curve, had become a massive, undeniable presence, resting on her thick thighs, wobbling heavily with every movement. Her arms and legs thickened, her chest swelled, and no clothing could contain her anymore. Even her wide slips clung tightly, her crop tops barely stretching over her rounded breasts, leaving her belly entirely exposed.

She was beyond full every night, but James knew—no matter how much he gave her, no matter how much she moaned about being stuffed, she would always take just one more bite.

And he would always be there, ready with another plate.

-Part 8-

Emily had long since stopped thinking about her weight, about control, about limits. What had started as simple indulgence had turned into something far beyond that—her body grew meal by meal, inch by inch, filling out faster than she ever could have imagined.

She could feel it in everything she did. Getting up from the couch took more effort. Walking across the house left her breathless. Even lifting her belly to adjust herself in bed had become a task of its own. She was undeniably, massively out of shape.

And the gym? That was nothing but a distant memory.

She had once gone religiously, back when she still cared about keeping her body toned. But now, with how out of shape she had become, the thought of stepping on a treadmill felt impossible. And truthfully, she didn’t even want to go back.

But one day, while digging through the closet, she found something unexpected—her old gym clothes.

A mischievous idea sparked in her mind.

With some struggle, she pulled on her old sports bra, but it was *comically* too small. The fabric barely stretched over her massive chest, cutting in tightly, stopping right above her nipples, leaving most of her soft, heavy breasts completely exposed. She tugged at it, but there was no fixing it—this bra was made for a body she no longer had.

Next, she reached for her old leggings.

It was a battle. The once-loose waistband now had to be forced up over the enormous swell of her belly, stretching so tightly around her hips and thighs that she could *hear* the fabric straining. She managed to pull them up—mostly—but they were stretched to their absolute limit, hugging every curve far more than they were ever meant to.

Emily smirked at her reflection. *James is going to love this.*

She waddled out of the bedroom, stepping into the living room where James was relaxing.

“Hey, babe,” she said casually.

James looked up—and immediately, his jaw dropped.

There she was, stuffed into her old gym clothes like a sexy, overfilled sausage. The sports bra looked more like a tight band across her chest, barely containing her at all, and those leggings…

Emily turned slightly, giving him a playful smile before bending over just a bit. *RIIIP!*

The leggings split open right across her backside.

James inhaled sharply, his eyes darkening with pure adoration. “Oh… my god.”

Emily giggled, straightening up, placing her hands on her massive hips. “Guess I won’t be going to the gym anytime soon.”

James stood up, stepping toward her, his hands instantly finding the soft, overflowing curves of her waist. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low. “I never liked you going anyway.”

She smirked, leaning into his touch. “Is that so?”

He nodded, pressing a deep kiss to her lips before trailing down to her exposed chest. “Mmhmm… I much prefer *this* version of you.” His hands squeezed her belly, feeling the sheer weight of it, the warmth, the softness.

Emily sighed, completely content. She had known James loved her, but now, seeing the way he looked at her, touched her, *worshipped* her… she had never felt more adored.

And if he wanted her to keep growing, keep indulging, keep letting him take care of her?

Well, she wasn’t about to stop now.

-Part 9-

Weeks passed, and Emily had never been more indulgent. She had fully embraced her lifestyle, no longer just eating for pleasure—but for purpose. She *wanted* to be full, *needed* to be full.

At first, she had eaten until she was satisfied. Then, she had eaten until she was stuffed. But now? Now, she never let her belly be empty at all.

She had learned to keep an eye on her fullness, making sure that the moment she felt even the slightest bit of hunger, she ate—no waiting, no hesitation. It became a routine, a commitment. Her stomach was always packed, stretched tight with rich, calorie-laden meals, ensuring that James had more to admire, more to adore.

And James *loved* it.

Every meal, every bite, every moment of indulgence, he was there, watching her, encouraging her, running his hands over her ever-expanding body. His hunger for her had grown just as much as her appetite for food, and she knew exactly how to push him even further.

That’s when she started buying lingerie—deliberately *far* too small.

Lacy bras that could barely contain her massive chest, their cups comically undersized, squeezing and spilling her softness over the edges. Tiny panties that dug into her plush hips, vanishing beneath the heavy swell of her belly. Stockings meant for slimmer thighs that clung to her thick legs, cutting in tightly, making every curve even more pronounced.

She didn’t buy them for comfort. She bought them for *him*.

One evening, after a particularly indulgent feast, Emily waddled into the bedroom, her belly packed tight, her body heavy and warm with fullness. James was already there, lounging on the bed, waiting for her.

With a smirk, she reached for her newest purchase—a deep red lace set, far too small.

She squeezed herself into it, tugging and adjusting, her breasts nearly bursting from the straining bra, her belly pressing heavily over the waistband of the tiny panties. She admired herself in the mirror for a moment, biting her lip at how utterly overstuffed she looked. Then, she turned and sauntered toward the bed.

James’ eyes widened the moment he saw her.

“Holy… Emily…” he breathed, his gaze roaming over every inch of her tightly packed body.

She grinned, straddling him, her full weight pressing down on his lap. “Like what you see?” she teased, pressing his hands to her soft stomach.

He groaned, squeezing, feeling the sheer *fullness* of her. “You have *no* idea.”

She leaned in, pressing her lips to his ear. “Good,” she whispered. “Because I’m not done growing yet.”

James growled, pulling her closer, his hands gripping her plush curves with pure hunger. “Then we’d better make sure you’re *always* full.”

Emily smirked. She had no doubt that he would.

-Part 10-

Time passed, and Emily’s body grew beyond anything she ever imagined. What had once been an insane dome of fullness had transformed into something even more dramatic. Her belly, once a single massive curve, had now formed a second roll… and then, inevitably, a third.

She was bigger than ever, a true monument to indulgence. Every meal, every snack, every overflowing bite had added to her ever-expanding figure. At this point, she was deep into 8XL territory—but that didn’t mean she actually wore that size.

No, Emily had long since abandoned proper fitting clothes.

Instead, she squeezed into things that were far too small, loving the way they barely covered anything.

Her pants? Always worn open, the button and zipper utterly useless. If they weren’t already too tight to begin with, they split at the sides the moment she moved, her plush hips and thick thighs demanding more space than the fabric could offer.

Her tops? Crop tops so tiny they couldn’t even cover her chest, let alone her belly. Her breasts swelled over the edges, heavy and full, while her triple-layered belly spilled freely beneath, jiggling with every step.

And she loved it.

She adored how it felt—how the fabric strained and dug in, how every outfit highlighted just how truly massive she had become. And more than anything… she loved James’ reaction.

One evening, she stood in front of the mirror, admiring her reflection. She had forced herself into a size 4 tank top, the fabric stretched beyond its limits. The neckline had been pulled so tight that her breasts practically spilled out completely, while the hem rode up so high that it barely even touched her upper belly roll.

Her pants, what little remained of them, clung desperately to her hips, split open at both sides.

With a smirk, she turned to James, who sat on the bed, watching her with pure adoration.

“Well?” she teased, giving her belly a playful jiggle. “What do you think?”

James groaned, running a hand through his hair, his eyes dark with desire. “Emily…” he murmured, standing up and crossing the room to her. His hands instantly found her belly, gripping and kneading her soft, overflowing curves. “You get bigger every day.”

She smirked, pressing herself against him. “And you love it.”

His grip tightened, his breath heavy. “More than anything.”

She leaned in, whispering against his lips. “Then you better keep feeding me.”

James smirked, sliding his hands lower, squeezing her hips. “Oh, don’t worry,” he murmured. “I always do.”

And as long as he did… she would never stop growing.

-Part 11-

Emily had long since embraced her size, but lately, she had taken things to the *next* level.

It wasn’t just about wearing tight clothes anymore—it was about wearing *the* tightest clothes she could possibly squeeze into. The kind that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The kind that made her look less like a woman in an outfit and more like a stuffed roast, wrapped up in fabric that had no hope of containing her.

And she *loved* it.

She pushed her limits every day, squeezing herself into clothes *far* too small, watching as seams strained, fabric stretched, and buttons popped the moment she moved. She knew James couldn’t get enough of it, the way he looked at her every time she stuffed herself into something that barely held together.

But now, she had a *new* plan.

They had an upcoming vacation—a beach trip. And Emily had made sure to order something *special* just for the occasion.

A bikini.

Not just any bikini.

An *extremely* small bikini.

It arrived in the mail a week before their trip, and she wasted no time trying it on. The moment she pulled it out of the package, she *knew* it was going to be *obscenely* tight.

The top was *laughably* small—two tiny triangles of fabric connected by the thinnest string, barely enough to cover *anything*. She tugged it over her massive chest, but it only *just* managed to stretch across her nipples, leaving the rest of her overflowing breasts completely exposed.

The bottoms were no better.

She forced them up her thick thighs, struggling as the waistband dug *deep* into her belly. The fabric disappeared almost instantly between her overstuffed hips, the sides stretched to their absolute limit, her lower belly spilling heavily over the top.

She turned, admiring herself in the mirror. The bikini was *so* tight that it looked like it might snap off at any moment.

*Perfect.*

With a satisfied smirk, she called out, “James, come here.”

A moment later, he stepped into the room—and the instant he saw her, his eyes went wide.

“Emily…” he exhaled, his voice filled with pure hunger. “What… is *this*?”

She grinned, giving her belly a playful shake. “My new bikini. For our vacation.”

James swallowed hard, stepping closer, his hands instantly reaching for her overflowing curves. “You… *you’re* actually going to wear this? In public?”

She smirked. “Of course. Why should *only* you get to see how fat I’ve gotten?”

He groaned, gripping her hips tighter, his fingers sinking into her softness. “You *love* showing off, don’t you?”

She leaned in, whispering against his lips. “Only when I know *everyone* is going to be staring.”

James could barely contain himself. “Then I think we need to take this vacation *right now*.”

Emily laughed, knowing that, once they hit the beach, *every single person* would see just how much she had grown—and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

-Part 12-

James had thought of everything for this trip. Clothes? Packed. Beach essentials? Ready. But most importantly—**food.**

He had filled the car with **tons** of snacks, all of them the most calorie-loaded, deep-fried, sugar-packed treats he could find. Bags of chips, tubs of ice cream stored in a cooler, cookies, pastries, burgers from their favorite fast food joints—enough to keep Emily *constantly* eating from the moment they left the driveway.

And he had one goal in mind: by the time they reached the beach, her bikini would be **even tighter** than when they left.

Emily, of course, didn’t protest. In fact, she was *eager* to play along.

From the moment she squeezed herself into the passenger seat—her belly pressing into the dashboard, her thick thighs spreading wide—James had started feeding her. One hand on the wheel, the other holding out a bite of whatever snack he had grabbed, keeping her constantly chewing as they drove.

And it didn’t stop there.

Every fast-food joint, every drive-thru, every roadside diner—they **stopped at all of them.**

At each one, James ordered **massive** portions, making sure she had more than enough to eat. Burgers dripping with grease, fries soaked in cheese sauce, milkshakes so thick they barely slid up the straw. And Emily? She ate *everything*, meal after meal, stop after stop, her belly stretching further with every bite.

As the hours passed, her body visibly **expanded**.

James could *see* it happening in real time.

Her belly, already massive when they started, grew heavier, softer, rounder, pushing closer and **closer** to the glovebox in front of her. The seatbelt, which had already struggled to contain her at the start of the trip, now **dug deeply** into her plush, overfed body. Her fat rolls **spilled** over the edges of the belt, her sides pressing into the car door, her breath growing heavier with every indulgent moan of fullness.

And James? He was **constantly** turned on.

Each time she let out a stuffed, satisfied groan, shifting in her seat to make room for her *ever-growing belly*, he felt a fresh wave of hunger—not for food, but for her.

“James,” she mumbled around a mouthful of fries, rubbing the curve of her packed stomach. “I don’t know if I can take another bite…”

He smirked, grabbing another burger from the bag. “Come on, baby. Just a little more. We’ve still got a few hours left.”

She hesitated for only a moment before **opening her mouth**, letting him slide the greasy, overstuffed burger between her lips. She chewed slowly, her moans of pleasure filling the car as she **kept eating**, pushing past fullness into pure gluttonous indulgence.

By the time they finally reached the beach, Emily was **bigger than ever**.

Her belly **dominated** her lap, her bikini **digging** into her flesh so tightly it looked like the strings might snap at any moment. Her fat **overflowed** in every direction, her rolls bulging even more than when they had left.

James took one long, *satisfied* look at her stuffed, overfed body and grinned.

“Guess we’d better find a restaurant after we check in,” he said playfully.

Emily groaned, **but she didn’t disagree.**

-Part 13-

James handled the check-in while Emily sat in the car, **completely stuffed**, her belly **so full and heavy** that she barely had the energy to move. She had eaten so much on the drive that even shifting in her seat felt like a task, her overfed body **pinned** against the car door.

Her skirt—once loose—was now **digging deep** into her swollen stomach, the waistband stretched *dangerously* tight. Her top? It had **ridden up completely**, barely managing to **cover her breasts**, leaving her soft, round belly **fully exposed** in the warm air.

But she *didn’t* care.

If anything, she was **thrilled**—because she had **never** been this full before, and she *knew* James loved it.

Still, she had a *goal* for this trip: **to get even bigger.**

So, while James was inside handling the check-in, Emily **got to work.**

She pulled out her phone and started searching—**every local restaurant, every buffet, every fast-food spot.** Anything that looked *greasy, indulgent, and absolutely overloaded with calories* went straight to her list.

Her fingers scrolled hungrily through pictures of massive platters of fried food, thick milkshakes dripping with whipped cream, all-you-can-eat pasta deals… Her **stomach groaned**, still packed from the drive, but she *ignored* it, knowing that **soon, it would be even fuller.**

When James finally returned, he opened the car door to find **his wife still wedged in place**, her belly **spilling into her lap**, her eyes locked on her phone.

“What are you up to?” he asked, smirking.

Emily **grinned** up at him. “Planning where we’re eating first.”

His eyes darkened with **pure adoration.**

He leaned in, gripping the soft **overhang of her belly**, feeling how **heavy and stuffed** she was from their road trip feast.

“Already thinking about your next meal?” he teased, giving her **a firm squeeze.**

She **moaned softly**, her breath heavy. “Mmhmm. Gotta keep growing for you.”

James groaned, his hands roaming over **every soft, swollen inch** of her. “Then let’s get you out of this car,” he murmured, “and straight to the nearest restaurant.”

Emily **giggled**, but as she **tried to move**, she realized…

She was *too full* to get up on her own.

James **laughed**, **loving** just how much she had outgrown her own mobility. “Looks like I’m gonna have to help you.”

And with that, he reached down, wrapping his arms around **his massively overfed wife**, pulling her up with effort as she **waddled into the hotel—already dreaming about her next meal.**

-Part 14-

Emily and James had come for the beach, but first, they had come for food.

At a small beachside bar, under the warm sun, Emily ate and drank without restraint.

Plate after plate of fried seafood, creamy pastas, butter-drenched lobsters, and thick tropical cocktails disappeared into her ever-expanding belly. Every bite pushed her closer to bursting, every sip of rum-soaked drinks made her hungrier for more.

James sat beside her, watching in pure admiration as she gorged herself, his hand lazily rubbing over the roundest, fullest stomach he had ever seen on her.

And then—it happened.

A loud, tearing rip echoed through the bar.

Emily gasped as she felt the fabric of her already tight skirt finally give up. The waistband burst open, the seams splitting down the sides as her overstuffed belly surged forward, freed from its final restraint.

For a second, there was silence. Then, James grinned.

Emily, drunkenly full and barely fazed, simply giggled, rubbing her round, tight stomach. “Oops.”

A few bar patrons stared, some in shock, others in awe at the sheer size of the woman who had just eaten herself out of her clothes. But Emily? She didn’t care.

In fact—she was ready to show off even more.

Still holding her bottle of coconut rum, she staggered toward the beach, her heavy, overfed body wobbling with every step. James followed, completely mesmerized, his eyes locked on the way her belly jiggled freely, unrestrained for the first time all day.

And then, in front of everyone, she tilted back the bottle—and downed the entire thing in one long, greedy gulp.

James groaned, feeling his own hunger for her grow even stronger as she licked her lips, satisfied.

Then, without hesitation, she grabbed the hem of her too-tight top—and ripped it off, revealing the bikini she had bought before the trip.

And God, it was barely holding together.

Her massive breasts strained against the tiny top, the strings dug deep into her soft flesh, looking like they might snap at any second. Her triple belly rolls spilled over and under the bikini bottoms, the thin fabric completely swallowed by her hips.

She was huge, stuffed, and barely covered—and she loved every second of it.

Turning to James, she smirked. “Think they’ve seen enough?”

James swallowed hard, stepping closer, his hands instantly finding her belly.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, squeezing her softness, “I don’t think they’ve seen anything yet.”

-Part 15-

The moment Emily’s **bare feet hit the warm sand**, something about the **heat, the alcohol, and the sheer indulgence of the day** hit her all at once.

Her **head spun, her body wobbled**, and then—an idea came to her.

With **a sudden drunken giggle**, she **lunged at James**.

“Whoa—Emily—!” he barely had time to react before she **tackled him**, her **massive, overfed body crashing down on top of him**, pinning him deep into the sand.

James let out a **shocked grunt**, his arms flailing for a moment as he felt the sheer **weight** of his wife press **fully** against him.

Her **belly didn’t just brush him—it ****smothered** him, its **soft, heavy mass** molding around his torso like a warm, plush **boulder**. His legs sank deeper into the sand as she **wiggled** on top of him, **pressing her softness down**, trapping him completely beneath her.

Above him, Emily **giggled uncontrollably**, her cheeks flushed both from **the rum and the heat**.

She felt **so huge, so heavy, so powerful**, and she absolutely **loved it.**

Still giggling, she **grabbed at his pants**, teasingly running her fingers over the fabric.

Then, leaning **down as close as she could**, she **grinned drunkenly**, her warm breath tickling his lips.

“Kiss your **beached whale** of a wife,” she **purred**, wiggling her belly **even deeper** onto him.

James’ breath caught.

His hands, previously pinned at his sides, **found her hips**, gripping the **soft, overflowing flesh** with pure **desperation**. His heart pounded as he looked up at her, his **beautiful, gluttonous wife**, her **bikini digging deep into her fattened curves, her rolls jiggling with every tiny drunken movement.**

*God, she was enormous.*

And she was **all his.**

He smirked, gripping her tighter, **pulling her down** just enough to **close the gap between them.**

And then—he kissed her.

Deep, **hungry**, full of **love and lust**.

Emily **moaned** softly against his lips, melting into him, pressing **every inch** of her **overfed, indulgent body** into his, **claiming him** just as much as he had claimed her.

And right there, on that beach, in front of **everyone**, James knew one thing for certain:

His **beached whale of a wife** was **perfect.**

-Part 16-

James knew his **drunk, beached whale of a wife** needed protection from the sun—not just because she was **softer, fuller, and rounder than ever**, but because **there was simply more of her to cover.**

So, with **devotion in his eyes**, he set to work.

He grabbed **two whole bottles of sun lotion**, because **one wasn’t going to be enough** for the sheer amount of **soft, indulgent beauty** in front of him.

Emily **giggled lazily**, sprawled out on her oversized beach towel, her **massive body jiggling slightly** as James squirted the cool lotion onto her warm skin.

“Ooooh, that’s cold,” she slurred, still tipsy from all the rum she had downed earlier.

James just **smirked**, rubbing the lotion into **every inch of her.**

His hands glided over her **thick, plush thighs**, kneading the **heavy softness** of her hips. He worked his way up, massaging the lotion into the **deep rolls of her belly**, making sure **not a single part** of her was left unprotected.

Emily **moaned softly**, stretching out like a spoiled queen.

“You really do love taking care of me,” she teased, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure.

James chuckled, leaning down to **kiss the soft curve of her belly**. “Always.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon **laughing, teasing, and playing in the sun**, James **helping her wade into the water**, her **massive form floating effortlessly** in the gentle waves. He never took his eyes off her, watching **every bounce, every jiggle, every sway** as she moved.

By evening, as the sun dipped into the horizon, James sat beside Emily, **watching her glow** in the golden light.

She was **gorgeous.**

No—she was **divine**.

A **goddess of indulgence**, a **queen of softness**, a **vision of pure, unapologetic luxury.**

And she looked at him with **equal devotion.**

In her eyes, he wasn’t just her husband—he was **her god, her provider, her worshipper, her everything.**

They sat together, Emily resting **her heavy, overfed belly** against his lap, and James **holding her close, knowing he would never love anything more than he loved the woman in his arms.**

-Part 17-

By the time they stumbled back into the hotel, the night was thick with warmth, the sound of the ocean still lingering in their ears.

Emily **groaned softly** as James helped her inside, his strong arms **lifting the heavy weight of her belly**, easing the pressure on her legs after a full day of indulgence.

She was **massive, stuffed beyond belief**, every inch of her soft, overfed body **glowing from the sun and pleasure**.

And waiting for them—**a fresh bottle of coconut rum**, glistening under the dim hotel lights.

Emily **grinned mischievously.**

Before James could react, she **pushed him onto the bed**, his body sinking into the plush sheets as she **climbed onto him**, her **full, heavy belly pressing down**, surrounding him in her **warm, soft, intoxicating presence.**

She grabbed the bottle, tilted it back, and took a **deep, greedy gulp**, letting the rum **burn sweetly down her throat.**

James **groaned**, his hands instinctively gripping her **thick, overflowing hips**, his fingers **sinking into her softness** as he watched her drink.

Emily smirked, licking a drop of rum from her lips. “Your turn,” she purred, pressing the bottle into his hand.

James took a swig, the warmth hitting him instantly—but it was **nothing** compared to the fire burning in his chest as he watched **his wife** slowly reach behind her back.

With a **deliberate, teasing motion**, she **unclasped her bikini top**, letting it fall away, her **massive, heavy breasts spilling freely** into his view.

His breath caught.

And then—she shifted, grinding her **plush, overfed body** against him as she tugged at his pants, **pulling them down halfway**, her movements slow and **utterly intoxicating.**

James **growled**, his hands **gripping her waist**, feeling the **softness, the fullness, the sheer indulgent size** of her as she leaned down, pressing her lips to his ear.

“Worship your **beached whale of a wife,**” she whispered, voice **thick with lust and command.**

And he did.

With **devotion**, with **hunger**, with **pure, unrestrained passion**—he **worshipped** every inch of her, his hands **grasping, kneading, adoring**, his lips trailing across her **soft, overfed body**, drinking in the **taste of salt and rum and sweat**.

Emily **moaned**, her body **trembling with pleasure**, her belly **pressing heavily against his chest**, her **rolls spilling around him**, trapping him in **a cocoon of warmth and indulgence**.

And as the night stretched on, filled with **moans, gasps, and deep, exhausted pleasure**, they both knew—

This was **worship.**

This was **love.**

This was **pure, gluttonous devotion.**

-Part 18-

The morning light streamed through the hotel window, casting a warm glow over the room.

James slowly blinked awake, his body still **aching from the night before**—a night spent **worshipping** his wife, lost in **pure indulgence and passion**.

And then he looked at her.

Emily lay beside him, her **massive, soft body completely relaxed**, her **bare skin glowing** in the sunlight. Her **belly rose and fell gently**, still **round and full** from the endless feasting of the day before.

She was **huge, warm, perfect.**

And James’ body **reacted instantly.**

He felt himself grow **hard again**, his arousal **pulsing** as his eyes **traced every curve, every roll, every soft fold of her overfed form**.

His gaze fell to her **deep belly button**, nestled between the **plush, overflowing softness of her gut**, and a **wicked thought** crossed his mind.

But before he could act on it, Emily **stirred.**

She **yawned, stretched**, her **soft rolls shifting and jiggling**—and then her eyes fluttered open, locking onto **his desperate arousal.**

A **lazy, knowing grin** spread across her lips.

“Oh?” she purred, her voice **thick and sultry** from sleep. “Already **hungry** again?”

James swallowed hard, trying to **control himself**—but Emily had other ideas.

Before he could **protest**, she **grinned mischievously, grabbed her massive belly with both hands—**

And **pushed her deep, warm belly button directly over his aching hardness.**

James let out a **sharp, needy gasp**, his entire body **tensing** as he felt the **soft, warm pressure** of her belly surrounding him.

Emily **giggled, teasingly shifting her weight**, **pressing him deeper** into the plushness of her gut.

“Oops,” she whispered, biting her lip. “Looks like I’m still **too heavy to move off you… Guess you’re stuck there.**”

James **groaned**, his hands **flying to her hips**, gripping **deep handfuls of soft flesh**, his mind **completely lost** in the sensation of being **trapped under his indulgent goddess.**

Emily **laughed**, **grinding her belly down**, making sure he felt **every single pound of her weight** pressing against him.

And as the **morning stretched on**, James realized—

He never wanted to escape.

-Part 19-

James stood at the edge of the bed, **breathing heavily**, his body **still tingling** from the pleasure of the morning.

On the bed, Emily lay **completely spent**, her **massive body spread out**, her **soft rolls rising and falling** with every deep breath.

Her belly, **still stuffed from the day before**, now had something extra nestled in its **deep, plush navel**—a **reminder** of just how much James **worshipped her.**

She let out a **satisfied, sleepy moan**, stretching lazily, her **heavy breasts jiggling** with the motion.

James **licked his lips**, resisting the urge to **climb back on top of her**—but he knew what she needed next.

**Food.**

Not just any food. **Something massive. Something fattening. Something that would make his already overfed wife grow even softer, even heavier.**

He leaned down, pressing a **deep kiss** into the plushness of her **stomach**, inhaling the scent of her **warm, indulgent body.**

“I’ll be right back, baby,” he murmured, **rubbing slow circles over her belly.** “Gotta take care of my hungry girl.”

Emily **grinned sleepily**, her hands resting **possessively** over the **deep curve of her stomach.**

“Make it extra greasy,” she whispered, **licking her lips**, already **fantasizing** about what he would bring.

James chuckled, **his heart pounding with love and lust**.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, grabbing his pants. “I’m bringing you **a feast fit for a queen.**”

And with that, he headed out, **determined to bring his goddess the most fattening, indulgent breakfast imaginable.**

-Part 20-

James stepped into the hotel room, **arms full of food**, expecting to find his **massive, overfed wife** sprawled across the bed, eagerly waiting for her morning feast.

Instead, all he found was **a note**.

> *I couldn't stand the hunger any longer. I'm at the all-you-can-eat next door.*

James **smirked**, shaking his head.

*Of course she couldn’t wait.*

Setting the food aside, he turned on his heel and made his way to the **buffet restaurant**, anticipation **thrumming through his veins**.

The moment he stepped inside, his breath **caught in his throat.**

There she was.

**Emily.**

Standing at the buffet, **loading her plate with reckless hunger**, completely **lost in indulgence.**

And her **outfit—**

Or rather, what was **left** of it.

She had squeezed herself into a **tiny, too-small dress**, one that was clearly never meant to contain her **massive, overfed body**.

The **sides had ripped open**, exposing **deep folds of soft flesh**, and the hem barely covered her **huge, jiggling ass**.

And as she **leaned forward** to grab even more food—James’ eyes went wide.

She wasn’t **wearing anything underneath.**

No **underwear.**

No **bra.**

Just **her**, her **soft, swollen curves completely on display**, her **plush thighs pressing together**, her **juicy, overfed body moving with every hungry motion.**

James **swallowed hard**, his entire body **reacting instantly**.

Emily, completely oblivious, **stacked her plate higher and higher**, piling it with **pancakes dripping in syrup, greasy bacon, piles of sausage, and thick slabs of buttered toast**.

James took a **shaky breath**, watching as she **bit into a pastry, moaning softly**, licking a bit of icing off her **plump lips**.

And in that moment, he realized—

He had never wanted her **more.**

-Part 21-

James couldn’t take his eyes off his **gluttonous queen** as she sat at the table, shoveling **mouthful after mouthful** into her eager mouth.

Her **belly stretched further with every bite**, her **moans of pleasure** filling the air as her **tight, ruined dress struggled to contain her.**

But James wasn’t about to let **anything** hold her back.

He took charge, making sure **she never had to lift a finger**—bringing her **plate after plate**, each one **heavier, greasier, and more indulgent than the last.**

He watched with **pure worship** as she ate **without hesitation, without shame—just hunger, lust, and pure indulgence.**

And then it happened.

With a **deep, satisfied groan**, Emily **leaned back**, her **massive, stuffed belly pressing against the fabric of her poor, abused dress.**

The **seams strained, stretched—until finally—**

**RIIIIIIP.**

The dress **gave out**, **splitting wide open**, unable to handle the sheer **size of her growing gut.**

And just like that—her **soft, overfed belly spilled out**, **dropping onto her lap like heavy jello, shaking with every breath she took.**

The **entire restaurant fell silent.**

People **stared**, eyes wide at the **absolute goddess of indulgence before them**, her **gut free, massive, and stuffed beyond belief.**

James?

**He fucking loved it.**

His **gorgeous, greedy, growing wife**—completely exposed, **completely his.**

He ran a **reverent hand** over her **overstuffed belly**, **feeling the heat**, the **weight**, the **life within it.**

She looked at him, **cheeks flushed, lips shiny with grease and sugar**, eyes **hazy with indulgence.**

He leaned in, whispering **low and hungry** in her ear—

**“At least half that amount is waiting at the hotel. And I’m going to feed it to you myself, my overfed goddess.”**

Emily **shivered**, her **stomach stretching painfully**, but she only **licked her lips and smiled.**

**She wasn’t done yet.**

-Part 22-

The rest of their vacation became a **gluttonous dream**, a **celebration of excess** where every day was dedicated to making Emily **softer, heavier, and more indulgent than ever before.**

**Day One – A Seafood Feast**

They found a **high-end seafood buffet**, and James made it his **mission** to see how much his **growing goddess** could consume.

Platter after platter arrived at their table—**buttery lobster tails, deep-fried calamari, creamy seafood pasta, whole grilled fish dripping in garlic butter**—Emily devoured it **all.**

By the time the night ended, her **belly was so swollen** she could barely waddle back to the hotel. James had to **carry her the last stretch**, his hands gripping the **soft weight of his overfed queen**, completely **lost in how much he adored her.**

**Day Two – Alcohol & Bloating**

This night was all about **drinks.**

They found a **beach bar** with an all-you-can-drink deal, and James **encouraged Emily** to keep going. **Cocktails, beer, creamy liqueurs**—it all **poured down her throat** as she **sighed, moaned, and leaned back**, her **gut rounding out even further**, bloated with liquid and pleasure.

By the end of the night, she was **so full and tipsy** that James had to **support her completely**, whispering in her ear about how **irresistible she looked**, her **bloated gut stretched so perfectly, pressing against his body.**

**Day Three – Too Heavy to Move**

Emily **didn’t leave the bed.**

She **couldn’t.**

After days of **pure indulgence**, her **body was exhausted, her stomach constantly packed full.**

James didn’t mind one bit.

Instead, he **served her in bed**, bringing her **massive trays of food**, feeding her **bite by bite** as she **sighed in pure bliss**, barely able to move under the weight of her **own growing body.**

At one point, he crawled into bed with her, his hands **worshipping every new soft inch** as he kissed her **greasy lips**, whispering how much he **loved every pound** she had put on.

**Day Four – The FKK Beach**

By now, her **bikini was useless.**

She had grown **so much, so fast** that when she **tried to squeeze into it, it simply wouldn’t fit.**

The straps **dug painfully into her soft flesh**, and after **one sharp movement, it completely snapped apart.**

James grinned.

“Well,” he said, **eyeing her completely naked body**, “there’s always the **FKK beach.**”

Emily **blushed**, but the idea **excited her**—the thought of **being fully exposed**, letting the **world see what James had made of her.**

So they went.

And James?

**He loved every second of it.**

Watching his **massive, overfed wife waddle across the sand**, completely **naked**, her **gut swaying, her thick thighs jiggling, her full breasts bouncing with every step.**

People **stared.**

Some in **shock**, some in **fascination**, some in **jealous awe.**

James didn’t care.

All that mattered was **her.**

His **glorious, greedy goddess.**

-Part 23-

The vacation had been a pure, indulgent dream, but now it was time to head home.

There was just one problem.

Emily couldn’t fit in the passenger seat anymore.

Her massive belly, bloated and heavy from two weeks of non-stop feasting, simply wouldn’t squeeze in.

She tried.

She grunted, wiggled, even lifted her gut with both hands—but no matter what she did, the seatbelt wouldn’t reach and the dashboard pressed painfully against her soft stomach.

James?

He was so turned on he could barely think straight.

He swallowed hard, adjusting his pants, trying not to groan out loud at the sight of his gluttonous goddess struggling to fit.

In the end, there was only one solution.

Emily had to sit in the backseat.

Even there, her gut was so big that it pushed forward between the front seats, resting against James' shoulder as he drove.

And that was too much for him to handle.

The constant pressure of her warm, soft belly against him, the reminder of how much she had grown, how much he had fed her—

James was achingly hard the entire drive.

And of course, he couldn’t resist making stops.

Every roadside restaurant, every fast-food drive-through—they pulled in, and this time, James didn’t just order big.

He ordered more than ever before.

Tray after tray of greasy burgers, fried chicken, pizzas, triple-thick milkshakes, overloaded desserts.

And Emily?

She ate everything.

Mouthful after greedy mouthful, her moans of pleasure filling the car as she packed her belly even tighter, letting her gut swell against James even more.

By the time they got home, she was so stuffed she could barely move.

And James?

He was ready to worship her all over again.

-Part 24-

By the time they finally pulled into the driveway, Emily was **a wreck of indulgence**.

Her **gut was beyond full**, her **entire body swollen tight** with food, and her **chest rose and fell heavily** as she tried to catch her breath.

She was **pretty sure** she had gone through **several mini-strokes** from how much she had eaten on the way home.

Her **skin felt tight**, her **belly stretched beyond anything she had ever experienced before**, and yet—

James still **wasn’t satisfied.**

He parked the car and immediately moved to help his **gluttonous goddess** out.

It wasn’t easy.

Emily was so **massive**, so **overfed**, that even with his support, she **wobbled**, her **gigantic gut pressing against him**, her **thighs rubbing together in thick, jiggling rolls.**

The **neighbors stared.**

Eyes wide, mouths **slightly open**, as they watched **James guide his enormous wife** toward the house.

Emily?

She could feel their **gazes**—the shock, the judgment, the disbelief.

And she **loved every second of it.**

She smirked through her **overfed exhaustion**, letting her **gut hang out even more**, shifting her **hips just enough** to make her **barely-there dress ride up**, giving the **nosy neighbors an even better view.**

James, on the other hand, **didn’t care** about them at all.

His **focus** was entirely on **her.**

And on **one thing.**

She **hadn’t eaten enough.**

Not yet.

Not even close.

As soon as he got her inside, **gently lowering her onto their bed**, he **pulled out his phone.**

With **one hand stroking her massive, overfed belly**, he used the **other to order even more.**

**More fat. More calories. More indulgence.**

Everything **he could find.**

Emily, still **breathing heavily**, glanced at him with **lazy, satisfied eyes.**

“…You’re already ordering more?” she murmured, **smirking** despite her **food coma.**

James **grinned**, leaning down to press a **hot, lingering kiss** to the **deep curve of her belly.**

“You didn’t think we were stopping now, did you?” he whispered against her **warm, overstuffed skin.**

Emily **shivered**.

Her **stomach groaned in protest**—but she **licked her lips** anyway.

Because she knew—

She was **nowhere near full enough for him yet.**

-Part 25-

The constant chime of the doorbell had become the soundtrack of their decadent life. Delivery driver after delivery driver arrived, each bearing boxes filled to the brim with greasy, fattening feasts that would push Emily’s already overstuffed body even further. James watched with fierce, possessive hunger as his overfed goddess squirmed on the bed, her eyes glazed with both exhaustion and unspoken desire.

Despite her soft, pleading moans and desperate whispers for a break—her body trembling on the edge of what felt like a near heart attack—James’s determination was unyielding. Every bite that she took, every morsel that he fed her, was a challenge to the limits of her indulgence. He craved pushing her boundaries further, knowing deep down that she wanted it too, even when her voice wavered with fatigue.

In the dim light of their private sanctuary, James orchestrated their twisted symphony of pleasure and excess. With one hand, he fed her sumptuous, calorie-laden treats; with the other, he explored every soft curve of her swollen flesh. As he slid his hands over her body, their passion escalated—he fed her while ravaging her in a rhythmic dance of desire, each thrust and every caress a testament to their shared lust for pushing past all limits.

Emily’s gasps filled the room. Though she begged for a moment to rest between waves of indulgence, her eyes shone with a secret thrill—a hunger not just for food, but for the raw, relentless pleasure of being pushed beyond what she thought possible. With every bite, every thrust, and every whispered command, James proved that there was no such thing as “enough.” His overfed goddess, intoxicated by both the food and his relentless passion, surrendered herself entirely to the delicious, dangerous game they played.

In that charged, fevered moment, as more food arrived at their door and the night deepened around them, both knew that nothing could stop their pursuit of excess. They were bound by a shared, unyielding desire—to eat, to grow, and to experience pleasure beyond every imaginable limit.

-Part 26-

Emily’s heart pounded—both from the physical shock and an intoxicating rush of euphoria—as she felt a sudden, sharp pain in her chest. It wasn’t a full-blown collapse, but rather a little heart attack that sent sparks of ecstatic adrenaline through her system. In that surreal moment, her eyes shone with a wild, almost blissful acceptance of her own limits being pushed.

James, ever the relentless devotee to her overindulgence, didn’t rush to panic. Instead, he leaned close, his voice low and husky with fervor.

"That's the next big step, my overfed goddess," he murmured, a mix of awe and desire coloring his tone. "Today, you've shown me just how far you can go. But for now—you need to rest."

His words, meant to soothe, stirred something deeper within Emily. Even as her body signaled the need for a pause, her mind and spirit screamed for more. The near-heart attack wasn’t a warning—it was a rite of passage, a marker on the path to even greater indulgence.

Emily’s lips parted in a soft, determined smile as she whispered, "I want more, James. I need more." Even in her weakened state, the desire to defy her limits, to push past what had once been considered an endpoint, burned fiercely inside her.

James’s hands, still tender on her swollen skin, gently cradled her as he helped her lie back, but his eyes blazed with anticipation. He had seen the thrill in her expression, the unspoken promise of future feats of excess that beckoned both of them. This was not a moment for retreat; it was the beginning of a new level of submission and passion—a shared journey into the unknown realms of pleasure and self-transformation.

"I promise you, my love," he said softly, brushing a kiss against her forehead. "Once you've rested, we will reach for that next level—together. You are my ultimate desire, and I will always be here to feed every part of you, no matter how far you want to go."

As Emily's breathing began to steady, her heart still fluttering with both fear and a perverse exhilaration, she closed her eyes, knowing that even in rest there was the promise of what was yet to come. In that quiet, charged moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them—bound by their extraordinary hunger for indulgence, for passion, and for each other.

And though her body pleaded for a temporary reprieve, her soul whispered of the endless, uncharted possibilities that awaited them.

-Part 27-

And so, day after day, the feeding continued—an unending cycle of indulgence and desire. Emily grew bigger and bigger, her once energetic movements now replaced by a luxurious, lazy ease. The energy she once used for movement was now devoted entirely to satisfying her appetite, and in her stillness, she became the embodiment of the gluttonous goddess that James adored.

Her body transformed into a living testament of their shared passion—every meal pushing her limits further. Her belly, already impressive with its ever-expanding rolls, now sported a new, fourth roll emerging from her soft, abundant fupa. Every curve, every fold, was a celebration of excess, and James reveled in the sight.

Emily, even as she moved less, managed to give James all the pleasure he craved—simply by existing in her magnificently overfed state. Her presence, her curves, and the way she exuded a lazy sensuality ignited a fire in him that no other sight ever could. James took immense pride in feeding his gluttonous goddess, knowing that every additional bite, every new meal, not only pushed her limits but also fed the deep, passionate bond they shared.

After each sumptuous, calorie-laden feast, their lovemaking became an intimate celebration of their union—a blend of tenderness, desire, and raw hunger. James loved having sex with Emily after stuffing her to her limits, her body an ever-changing landscape of softness and abundance. In those moments, every meal, every extra roll, every ounce of her expanded form became a part of the passion they shared.

As Emily lay there, immobile but radiant in her fullness, James would whisper praises, running his hands reverently over her tender flesh. In those sacred moments of intimacy, nothing mattered except the deep connection between them—a connection nourished by both food and unyielding desire. Their love was as boundless as the feasts that filled their days, each meal a testament to their shared commitment to push further, to indulge deeper, and to love without limits.

And in that delicate balance of pleasure and excess, they both knew that their journey was far from over. Every day was a promise of more indulgence, more growth, and more passionate, all-consuming love.

-End-

[fictionalfatties]

Cygnae tries pants

[fictionalfatties]

Buffet Date

CW: Weight gain, rapid weight gain, teasing.

Trevor was trying to ignore how full his belly was and how good it felt. His big belly spilled over his lap and pushed his favorite button up shirt to its limit. It was a sky-blue shirt with yellow rubber duckies dotted all around it. His boyfriend, Max, had picked it out as a gift when they first moved in together. The same Max that confided in him that he liked his men chunky, the same Max that kept buying Trevor’s favorite snacks even though Trevor was on a diet. The same Max that innocently suggested a buffet for their date night.

Trevor knew he’d over eat, but couldn’t help himself and he was sure Max did too. The food just smelled amazing. There were so many options from pizza to pasta, stakes to hotdogs, every fried savory food he could think of, and the desserts were so mouthwatering. Trevor didn’t used to be a big guy, but boy did he have a big appetite. He had played football in high school and in college. Trevor had a wide build that made him the first pick on any team. He even had the good looks to make any man swoon or at least he used to. Now, thanks in part to dating Max, Trevor felt he had lost some of that. He was still broad and tried to be athletic, but had started developing a bit of a gut. Sure, some of his gym buddies when through bulking phases and got a bit chunky before getting ripped, but Trevor didn’t do any body building stuff. He liked to keep a lean muscle look. Now staring at an orb of a gut he groaned. He was so full and the food was so good. Rubbing his taught stomach only showed just how much of a pig he made of himself, but it also felt good. He didn’t want to admit it, but a part of Trevor really liked this feeling of being over stuffed. It was a good excuse to let Max dote on him while he just digested. He knew he should be more active, but Max always looked so happy when Trevor ate too much. Maybe it was time to give in? That though vanished when he looked down at the sad state of his favorite shirt.

The day he had gotten the shirt Max had taken him on a magical date to the winter fare. They had gone ice-skating, Trevor had tried to win Max a stuffed animal, they had hot chocolate, and road the Faris wheel. They had stopped by a little boutique before going home. It was filled with all kinds of crazy and goofy shirts. When Trevor saw the rubber ducky shirt he fell in love and he was over joyed when Max bought it for him. They took it home right away. Trevor was so swept up by how cute it was that he didn’t realize it was a size too big. Max had ensured him that he still looked cute in it and the bigger size only gave him room to grow.

Now diamonds of doughy flesh poked between the buttons. Trevor leaned back and stroke his belly. He couldn’t imagen taking another bite. He had already stuffed himself with four full plates. Trevor vowed this would be the last buffet date for the year. He would get back on his fitness grind and fit back into his favorite shirt. Once Max came back, he would tell him his master plan about getting his summer beach bod ready.

Max came back with three plates, one with a few slices of pizza, one with a slice of cheesecake, and the other stacked with two slices of strawberry cheesecake and warm brownies.

          “Sorry for the wait. I heard they were bringing out a fresh batch of brownies and I know how you love them.” Max said.

Trevor completely forgot about his aching belly the second he smelled the brownies. They were so rich. He could smell the semi-sweet chocolate and could almost taste it. His summer body forgotten he chowed down on the brownies. They were even better than he imagined. So dark and rich, with the perfect smooth fudge texture. They practically melted in his mouth. Trevor inhaled the last few and the cheesecake. Without a second thought he got up and raced towards the brownie station.

They had set out two massive sheets, still steaming. Like a child possessed, he quickly loaded his plate high with brownies. As he walked back to his table he had to peak over the mountain of brownies and had missed Max’s massive grin. Max was full on laughing by the time Trevor came back to the table.

“What, did I take too many?” Trevor said.

“No baby, your shirt.” Max said as he tried, and failed, to keep in his laughter.

Trevor looked down and saw two buttons in the middle of his shirt had popped off, his soft belly exposed to the air. He turned the deepest shade of crimson and hid behind his tower of brownies.

“Aw baby, no need to be embarrassed. I think you look very sexy with that soft belly.” Max said.

“Then why were you laughing?” Treavor said.

“Because I got an email that your new shirt had arrived.” Max said.

This did not quite answer Trevor’s confusion and Max recognized that and continued.

“I know how much you love that shirt and I know it has been fitting a little snug recently. So, I found out that store had a webpage and, on a whim, bought it the next size up. I’m just laughing because right as I got the email your buttons flew off.” Max said.

Trevor was still embarrassed but touched. He looked down at the plate and a had a wicked idea.

“Well let’s see if you can pop the rest of my button’s off.” Trevor said.

Now it was Max’s turn to be flustered.

“Wait what?” Max said.

Trevor wasn’t sure what came over him. He still wanted his lean summer bod, but loved seeming Max flustered and new this would do the trick.

“Yea, just feed me till I pop.” Trevor said as he pushed the plate of brownies towards Max.

Still flustered, but now definitely horny, Max picked up a brownie and popped it in Trevor’s mouth. Instantly Trevor was in heaven. The brownie was still as good, but the extra edge of having his sexy boyfriend feed them too him was doing wonders. Trevor knew in that moment his new shirt wouldn’t last very long.

[fictionalfatties]

home vs. work

[fictionalfatties]

Taemin feedee stuffing AU 3

Taemin was severely overweight by this point. He had trouble moving around and needed assistance just to get up.

Taemin held Key's hands as he attempted to stand up for the 4th time. He grunted and groaned using his hyung for support to get off of the bed. His stomach hung low to his knees and it was so heavy he had a hard time straightening himself up. "Ugh- hyung-" Taemin grunted trying to use Key to help him stand up straight. He panted and groaned, he felt like he was being crushed by his heavy body.

"You okay?" Key asked as he looked at Taemin who was leaning over a bit.

"Hyung- I need your arm- please." Taemin spoke in between heavy breaths and looked at his hyung wincing a bit as he started trying to straighten up. His hyung quickly put his arm out to help Taemin lift himself and straighten out.

"Ugh-! Oh my god hyung- ugh-" Taemin grunted and breathed heavily putting his hands to his back as he finally stood upright. He panted closing his eyes a moment before taking one small step forward. His stomach jiggled with the rest of his flabby body and he held Key's shoulder thrown off balance some from all the fat rocking him, and sighed deeply placing a hand to his enormous stomach trying to catch his breath before taking another step.

Key looked at him as he struggled under his weight, and chuckled lightly seeing how tired he was already. He looked Taemin up and down holding his arm to keep him steady before turning to look at Taemin's full figure.

"You're so hot babe." He said spanking him.

Taemin gasped lightly and took a few more small steps. He swayed and his big belly flopped and swung against his huge thighs as they had trouble getting passed each other. His legs were so heavy and thick he was practically waddling. "Uhh~" Taemin stopped in the doorway holding onto the sides of the doorframe. He licked his lips as he moaned lightly, holding his head down as he tried to focus on slowing his breathing. He felt like he was going to hyperventilate.

"Looks like you've gained some weight." His hyung said through a smirk walking up behind him to grab the side of his flabby tummy. Taemin groaned and leaned against the side of the doorframe holding onto it. He was so tired, and his joints ached from all the weight they had to carry.

Taemin sighed breathing heavily "Not now hyung, can we get out of here first?" He spoke mildly annoyed. He looked at the door's width and huffed and puffed as he tried getting his big body through it. Taemin bumped the sides of the door as his giant tummy rocked him back and forth. He grunted and tried to keep his balance, making him more breathless. "Mm-" He grunted shifting his hips jerking them forward a bit as they were slightly caught. He could hardly fit through the door, and the hallway felt narrow beside him as his wide hips and the sides of his tummy bumped around against the walls as he waddled.

"Hyu-hyung, I need that chair please." Taemin said feeling his legs losing their strength from holding up all his weight. "Mmgh-!" Taemin held onto the walls and grunted breathlessly. It hurt his back and knees standing there as his heavy body tried pulling him down with gravity.

"Aww, is my little piggy too tired to walk any further?" The older asked smiling, putting his hand to Taemin's oversized tummy and jiggling it a bit.

"Mmgh~ hyung, can you hurry please?" Taemin felt like his legs were going to give out. He sighed and looked up groaning in pain and pushed against the walls trying to keep himself up as he grunted and held his breath some.

Key went to go get the chair. Taemin closed his eyes trying not to focus on how much it hurt and be patient, but it felt like his hyung was taking so long. "Ugh-! Hurry-!" Taemin strained out as he grimaced a bit and panted heavily. He could hardly speak he was so breathless.

"I'm here Taemin, I'm here." Key spoke quickly putting the chair down in the hall a few steps from Taemin.

Taemin groaned whinily through his teeth as he struggled to move from his spot in the hallway. He leaned over feeling his back about to give out. "Ugh! Bring it closer hyung-" he said urgently. His hyung placed it a little closer, just 2 steps from him now.

Taemin groaned and whimpered slightly, as he held his breath biting his lip taking small heavy steps. His flabby body shook at every movement, making it even harder to walk. He squeezed his eyes shut and moaned holding the walls for stability as he turned and let himself practically fall onto the chair.

Taemin grunted and winced as his weight shifted falling on top of him and knocking the air out of him. He gasped finally letting go of his breath and held his mouth open struggling to breathe. His heart was beating so much he could hear it in his ears. He let his arms lazily drop beside his body as he whined a little tilting his head back gasping for air. "Ohh~" He groaned tiredly putting his hand on top of his mound of a tummy and looked at his hyung with sad eyebrows and a tired look on his face still trying to catch his breath.

"Oh god..I'm...so big hyung." Taemin spoke breathlessly between gasps of air, and layed his head back in his chair again closing his eyes. His tummy rising and falling as it sat there heavily on his lap while he took deep breaths.

Key walked over and kissed Taemin's cheek and put his hand on his tummy jiggling and kneading the doughy pudge. "You ok baby?"

"Hyung, can we please get a wheelchair?" Taemin asked tiredly.

"But babe we've talked about this before, you know I like to see you walk. You look so good." He replied stroking Taemin's hair back from his chubby face some as he watched him lying there breathless.

"But it's so hard," Taemin whined putting his hand on the side of his large tummy taking a deep breath. "And I can hardly breathe." He said sighing through a small pout opening his eyes a little to look down at his tummy.

"But you're doing great." Key smiled reassuringly. He pressed and grabbed Taemin's mountain tummy shaking his lovehandle causing all of the fat to ripple and jiggle in his big lap.

Taemin grunted quietly as the fat rippled through his big tummy slightly taking away his breath. "But hyung, it hurts." Taemin said looking to his hyung innocently with his puffy cheeks.

"That's why I let you rest like this Taemin, I don't want you in pain." He patted Taemin's doughy tummy and kissed his chubby cheeks. "You'll be fine babe, ok?" He looked at Taemin with a sweet smile on his face and rested his hand on top of Taemin's giant tummy.

Taemin smiled back looking into his hyung's eyes. "Okay, if it makes you happy hyung."

Key massaged his big round dome of a tummy rubbing it. He slid his fingers over all the rolls of fat on Taemin's side lightly pressing his fingers through the creases in Taemin's shirt made by all the flab. He looked at Taemin's full body barely able to fit on the seat, the sides of his butt and thighs hanging off of the chair. "Wow, you've gotten so huge Taemin." The elder spoke mesmerized by Taemin's size.

Taemin giggled and blushed a little. "Well, you're feeding me so much hyung." Taemin watched his hyung's hands tracing the bulges of fat on the sides of his tummy, and pressing his lovehandles massaging them with his palms. "Mmm~ that feels good hyung." Taemin moaned as his hyung poked and prodded his fleshy tummy, and he closed his eyes.

"Glad you like it baby." He chuckled and squished it moving his hands up and down wiggling Taemin's blubbery belly, causing Taemin to grunt softly and exhale a little. "Ok babe, it's time for you to move to the couch." Key told him. Taemin looked disappointedly at his hyung. "I'm still so tired, and the couch is too far." He complained.

"It's ok Taemin, you can do it." He spoke calmly and rubbed Taemin's head. "Are you hungry?" His hyung asked. Taemin nodded his head pouting at him. "Ok then off you go to the couch." Key put his hands out for Taemin to take them.

Taemin looked down the hall to the couch and took his hyung's hands trying to stand. "Uh- hyung- ow-" Taemin grunted and whined as he fell back down in his seat. "Come on Taemin." Key tried pulling him a bit. Taemin shifted in his seat before attempting to stand once more, and barely lifted himself before he allowed himself to fall back down again. "Ugh, hyung I can't." Taemin whined letting go of Key's hands.

"Get up babe, I know you can." The older boy tried to encourage him.

"I can't hyung, I'm too tired." Taemin spoke breathily and shook his head.

"Taemin, get up." His hyung said in a firm tone. Taemin looked at him for a second, and took a deep breath as he grabbed his hyung's hands and tried standing again. He grimaced and almost sat back down but was pulled by Key a bit. "Mmgh-" Taemin grunted trying to get his legs to push him up, but it hurt his knees and he felt like he was going to fall. His tummy was so big and heavy on his legs he just couldn't go any further.

"Ah- agh- Hyung ow~" Taemin whined closing his eyes tightly as he winced. "I can't I can't I can't." Taemin spoke quickly trying to lean to sit back down again. Key grunted and let him go, sighing annoyed with him. "Taemin, you're not even trying." He furrowed his eyebrows looking at him. "Hyung I'm trying but it hurts." Taemin breathed heavily.

"I'm so hungry, can we just eat first?" Taemin complained and whined lying back in the chair. "Taemin you're such so lazy these days. Can you do anything besides complain about how hungry you are all day?" Key said frustrated with him.

Taemin looked at Key surprised. "I'm trying hyung.." He layed his head back in the chair sighing and resting his hands on his tummy.

"Then start acting like it, cause right now you're just being difficult and don't want to do anything. No one wants to deal with someone who gives up all the time. Now, give me your hand." Key demanded as he reached for Taemin's hands and held onto them.

Taemin took Key's hands and groaned trying to push himself passed his tummy. "Uuugh~!" Taemin strained out as he tugged on Key's hands and got to his feet. His feet were swollen from all the weight they had to carry and were very plump. Taemin whined and whimpered holding Key's shoulders, already so breathless.

"Good babe, see? I knew you could do it." Key smiled and held onto Taemin's chubby lovehandle as it hung down.

Taemin placed his hands on Key's shoulders leaning over a little and wincing. "Ugh! Oh my back~." He whined as his hyung held onto him. "You alright baby?" Key asked him as he helped Taemin support himself, and tried raising him up a bit. "Mgh- oh babe, you're so heavy." He chuckled a bit.

Taemin tiredly looked at his hyung with a slightly annoyed expression on his face. "Hyung... can you...." Taemin had trouble speaking, he was so out of breath from all of the moving he's been doing.

"Hmm baby?" Key stroked his fingers through Taemin's hair as Taemin was practically lying on his chest.

"Help me... to the couch.." Taemin took deep breaths and tried pushing on his hyung to raise up and groaned. "Ughh~" Taemin grimaced in pain, he felt like his back was going to snap as he lifted himself upright whimpering slightly. He tilted his head back looking up to the cieling as he licked his lips, then forcefully blew air through them exhaling. He winced and whined a little, he was trying to deal with how much pain he was in.

"Come on Taemin, walk with me. It's okay, you're doing well." Key said calmly as he saw Taemin was having a hard time. He held under Taemin's elbow trying to help him walk.

Taemin put his hands under his giant tummy and grunted trying to lift it some to take some of the pressure off of his back, and groaned starting to pant. He felt like he was going to cry. It all hurt so much and he was exhausted.

"That's so hot babe." Key looked at Taemin lifting his big belly and he put his hand to it jiggling the flab biting his lip a little.

Taemin tried walking a little ignoring his hyung, and held his breath struggling to hold his massive tummy and move his chubby legs. "Mmhh-!" It was harder walking while holding his huge stomach up and ended up putting more strain on his back. He couldn't hold it and dropped his tummy letting it hang and groaned loudly as it weighed him down jerking his body, forcing him to lean over. His hips and ankles were even starting to hurt now as they held up his overfed body.

"Eugh~!" Taemin groaned and held onto Key. "Hyung, it huuurts~!" Taemin whined gripping his hyung's shoulder tightly as he took a couple more steps.

"Ok ok Taemin just walk with me baby." Key tried putting his arm around Taemin's large swinging belly but it was so big he couldn't get his arm completely around it. "Ugh-" Key grunted when Taemin's tummy heavily flopped and pushed against him as Taemin leaned over. "You're doing good Taemin come on, it's not that far." He said sighing getting a little winded holding up part of Taemin's weight.

Taemin curled in his lips a little and whimpered. He stood there panting trying to catch his breath, and shut his eyes squeezing them closed. "I can't-" he said standing there leaned over. "Yes you can babe, we're almost there." Key nudged Taemin to keep going.

Taemin took a small step and grimaced keeping his eyes shut as he walked slowly. Taemin was in so much pain and he could hardly breathe. "I'm getting dizzy." Taemin spoke breathlessly as he practically gasped for air.

"No no Taemin breathe, just one more step baby." Key said quickly trying to help him sit. "Ohh~" Taemin whined and let himself collapse on the couch. His blubbery body rocked and rippled like waves with all the fat in it. His heart was beating so hard and he was exhausted, he wheezed trying to catch his breath and put his pudgy hand on his mountain of a tummy. His whole body ached and his legs and feet felt tingly and numb.

"Uhh~ ohh~ I can't...breathe.." Taemin groaned whinily lying back on the couch. He held his mouth open breathing heavily. Walking had never made him this tired before.

"You did so good baby." Key spoke soothingly as he patted Taemin's gigantic fat filled stomach.

Taemin brought his fluffy arms over his eyes as he whined still out of breath. "My back is killing me. I can't feel my feet." Taemin spoke as he wiggled his tubby toes a little.

Key looked at Taemin. 'He was so obese now.' He thought as he looked at Taemin's enormous stomach completely covering his lap. His thighs spread out and filled the entire 2 seater couch along with his highly padded butt. His huge doughy tummy rested heavily on him and spilled over his soft lap slightly onto his knees. It looked like he had gained even more weight than Key noticed before. 'No wonder he was having such a hard time, he was so huge.' Key lightly smiled to himself and giggled giddily.

"You okay baby? You look so big lying there like that." Key smirked and leaned against Taemin's cushiony tummy, grabbing the side of it and kneading it pressing in the soft fat.

"Mmh- hyung, let.. me..catch my breath.... Can we just eat now?" Taemin said lying there not opening his eyes as Key leaned over on top of him.

Key patted the side of his tummy and the fat rippled through it. "Okay babe, I'll get you something to eat." He smiled and gave Taemin a kiss on the cheek. "I made your favourite pasta, and I made sure I put a lot of meat in it just for you." He said as he walked into the kitchen to retrieve the dish.

"Great, I just need something to fill up my empty belly." Taemin smacked his tummy and jiggled the side of it as he sighed tiredly. He looked down at his big tummy hearing it growl and patted it.

Key came out with a big tub of pasta. It had four layers of cheese, meat, and lots of creamy sauce. It was enough for a family of four to share, but it was all going into Taemin's one giant tummy.

Taemin smiled licking his lips as he eagerly took the tub and placed it on his table-like tummy. "It smells so good hyung." He said excitedly and looked to Key.

"It's just how you like it." Key took a fork and twirled it in the pasta making sure to get all of the sauce and meat in a big bite for Taemin. "Open up baby." Key said putting the fork up to Taemin's lips.

Taemin opened his mouth and his hyung filled his chubby cheeks with the pasta. Taemin moaned, it was delicious. He loved how heavy and creamy it was. He opened his mouth for more and his eyes fluttered when the warm pasta entered it. He could taste all of the work his hyung put into making it. The cheese was melted just right and the meat was so juicy in all of the creamy sauce Key made. He closed his eyes chewing and swallowing quickly, all he wanted was more.

"Mmh~ hyung, this is so good." Taemin moaned breathily, quickly openening his mouth for Key to give him more.

"Yes Taemin, and I made it all for you. To fill that big tummy of yours." Key spoke as he placed his hand on the side of Taemin's supersized stomach, and kept patting and massaging the fluffy rolls of fat, causing Taemin to moan more.

"Mm hyung, I'm so hungry." Taemin pouted and whined a little at his hyung as he waited impatiently to be fed. Taemin put his chubby hands on either side of his big tummy and jiggled it holding his mouth open for Key.

"So needy huh baby? Is my little maknae that hungry? Key chuckled and leaned into Taemin's doughy abdomen and fed him another big fork-full. Key kept feeding Taemin bite after bite as he opened his mouth. Taemin moaned and rubbed his big tummy as his hyung stuffed him. His tummy was getting full but he couldn't stop himself from opening his mouth for his hyung to feed him more.

"Ugh~" Taemin groaned before his hyung shoved another bite into his plump lips. Taemin gasped softly and moaned chewing slowly and put his hand on his belly as it started to bloat. "Oogh~" Taemin moaned and winced a little, rubbing and gently pressing his full tummy.

"Getting full baby?" Key smirked watching Taemin moaning and touching his big tummy. "Open up, there's still more left to eat." Key rubbed Taemin's bloating belly.

Taemin opened his mouth and filled his stomach with more and more of the pasta. It was so heavy and filling in his tummy, stretching it out tight. He was getting so full but the food kept coming. It felt endless, and Taemin started taking shallow breaths from the tightness in his stomach as his hyung kept forcing food into his taut tummy.

"Oh my god hyung, I'm getting so stuffed." Taemin held his hard tummy, it felt hot to the touch, and he whined a bit lying his head back on the couch.

Key felt Taemin's tummy and gently pressed around it. It still had some give to it. "Come on piggy, I know there's still some room in your tummy, just a few more bites." He held the fork up to Taemin's mouth.

Taemin turned his head a little. "I'm full hyung." He panted and rubbed his chubby hand down the side of his big tummy.

"A little more for your hyung Taemin, you can do it. Come on." He put the fork against Taemin's lips and smiled. "Make hyung happy Taemin."

Taemin put his hand to his tummy taking deep breaths and winced a little. He looked at Key feeling uncomfortable with all the food in his belly. He didn't want Key to be upset, he wanted Key to be happy with him. He was completely stuffed but he had to eat it for his hyung. He sighed and opened his mouth taking all of the it into his mouth. It felt like so much as it filled his fat cheeks.

"Good piggy." Key said as he rubbed Taemin's head smiling proudly.

Taemin whined after he swallowed and rubbed his small hand up and down his hill of a tummy. It was so bloated and tight. His stomach gurgled, uneasy with all of the food his hyung crammed into it. "Oogh- so full.." he belched and rubbed his aching tummy wincing and looked at Key with a slightly pained expression on his face.

"Need me to massage you babe?" Key found himself smirking seeing the younger struggling with how stuffed he was.

Taemin nodded and gripped the sides of his floppy tummy squishing the fat between his tiny fingers as he groaned at how overstuffed his gut was.

Key rubbed Taemin's tummy coaxing out a few more mini burps from their big maknae. Taemin was practically immobile from all the weight he gained since Key had been giving him all the food he desired and then some. He could hear Taemin's quiet pained moans as he massaged the more tender areas of his tummy.

"Hyung it hurts.." Taemin whimpered and winced a little even though Key was touching it carefully. He whined as Key kept gingerly pressing and massaging his swollen tummy.

"I know Taemin, I know. You ate a lot, did we overdo it a bit baby? Your tummy must be so full." Key spoke sympathetically as he continued rubbing Taemin's big tummy.

Taemin nodded his head not saying a word, he didn't know what to say. He was so painfully full, it was the only thing on his mind as he layed rendered immobile from all the food he just ate. Taemin could only sit there as his hyung massaged his bloated tummy. Breathless pained moans filled the house for the next few minutes as Key would massage Taemin until his rumbling tummy was completely soothed.

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Some chonky caspar i doodled because I gotta meet my monthly quota~

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making space on the ipad so have these unfinished anims

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rough animation based on last piece

buy me a coffee here :)

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The ideal for couples. BHM with and FFA.

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Random dogboy I came up with! his name's Ryan

He was an underweight stray dog guy before a rich guy took him into his house and now he's a happy (and fat) ray of sunshine. Weight gain as a sign of healing trope my beloved

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Commission for @neo-hashira!

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Beautiful gorgeous Noctis ❤️

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The Fall

I love the fall and gentle acceptance that guys have when they gain. At first it’s exciting and fun, it feels strange. Initially, they still feel restraint but have to remind themselves it’s okay to indulge. As they gain more and more, they have to accept it as their identity. At some point you are big enough for long enough that being a fat dude is part of how people recognize you. Soon you’re just the fat guy, when people refer to you. It still feels foreign. They don’t feel like a different person and yet, their whole person has changed. Even if reluctant, they have to accept that that is who they are now. Not that they mind. And with a feeder, they fall even further. The feeder pushing and encouraging them to accept their place. The less the feedee can do, the more the feeder has to do for them. For the feedee, that may be strange and new. They may still feel the expectation to be productive and useful. It’s strange to be told “it’s okay to be useless” it’s even stranger to be told “I WANT you to be useless.” The mind has to be reminded over and over that this is okay. Pushing past doubt and worry that it will all end at any moment. Just sinking deeper into hedonism and dopamine. It’s a slow acceptance, a slow realization that they truly can let go and just grow. No more expectations of them. No more pressure. No more thinking. No more identity. They become a pig, a fat greedy, horny pig. And the feeder is all too willing to reach through the folds of lard, grab his cock and satisfy the pig once again. The feeder looks to the pig and smiles remembering how far he’s fallen from a normal person all the way down to this. The feeder thinking of the man his pig used to be and begins to feel his own cock straining against his pants as his pigs cum floods his cave of a fat pad. Beautiful.

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An Embarrassing Trip

                      An embarassing trip to the doctor                                                                                                                                                                                

1

  The nurse glances down at the clipboard, then at you, then back at the clipboard and smirks.

“Wow, so yeah, we definitely need to do a weigh in, you CERTAINLY aren’t 158 anymore.”  

Your face gets hot. In your rush to make the appointment  you grabbed a too-small shirt and now suffer the stares of waiting patients. Your muffin top balloons over the top of your tight pants. You squeeze your wide bottom into the chair and feel the wooden arm rests  press your fat love handles. You must look a sight with your soft hog belly filling your lap, laced beautifully  with light stretch marks, and your deep, obvious belly button. An older woman sitting next to you pats your plump forearm,

“It’s good to see you’re doing something about it, dearie, it doesn’t look like those pants could hold you in much longer.”

You flush red, she continues, “I just don’t know about your generation, you’re  all getting so FAT. Believe me, I know, I’ve got a big fat pig for a granddaughter and she just won’t lose weight no matter how I remind her boys don’t like fatties. Now mind you, she’s not as big as you, thank god, but she will be if−”

The nurse interrupts and calls your name. You wriggle your fat-packed hips out of the chair and make your way across the silent waiting room. Your blubbery thighs rub loudly. She leads you  down a long hallway.

“Ok, miss, here you are, we’ve got you scheduled for a weigh in, and an appointment with the dietician. Do yourself a favor and listen to her before Barnum and Bailey put you on speed dial,” She pokes your soft, dimpled tummy and laughs.

The room is cool and white, an examination table sits in the center. There is a treadmill, a scale and a full length mirror. Good god, you think, getting even more aroused. A cute, energetic nurse comes in moments later and picks up your chart.

“Hi, I’m Clara, I’m going to take your weight and pulse, the doctor will be in shortly. Please strip down to your underwear and bra.”  

You struggle out of your tight jeans, face reddening.  You begin to sweat lightly. Your love handles and belly wobble  and bounce and jiggle embarassingly as you tug your meaty hips free. The nurse smiles as you struggle and puff and puff.  She checks your chart again and raises her eyebrows.

“Oh dear, no wonder those pants are so tight,” she moves closer as you stand in your tight panties and bra, your uncooperative jeans stuck halfway down your hips, your overfed gut bulging and jutting well past your bloated tits. Your excess fat squeezes out around your too-small bra straps. She presses her palm into your soft piggy pot and gives it a hard jiggle. Your hips and back fat  wiggle wildly. Your nipples stiffen. Your thighs begin to get hot.

“Look at all this blubber, you naughty little piggy,” she laughs loud, “Look at how you jiggle!”  You feel your chest and throat constrict, your double chin wobbles slightly.  She slides her thumb deep into your belly button and clutchs your soft  underbelly with her fingers. She lifts, tugs, bounces your fat-bloated pot. She   slaps it and watches it wobble.  "Look at all this pork ,you overstuffed hog, you’ve been a VERY greedy piggy since we last saw you, haven’t you?“

You feel yourself about to come.

” Yes.“

She giggles.

“I bet it feels good to admit that, fatty.  Now lets get that wideload of yours  on the scale.”

You waddle onto the scale, your distended gut leading the way. She  takes your weight and notes it on the chart then  directs you to sit on the examination table. The door opens and a young man pokes his head in, “ Hi Clara, sorry to interrupt, but the doc is delayed, I’m going to send Denise in when she finishes up next door. Should be in a minute or two.”

She turns to you as the man leaves, “Denise is the dietician, you’ll like her.”         

2

  A few minutes later the door opens. As Clara leaves,  a fit, lovely woman with a pile of black hair  enters. She smiles and extends her hand, “Hi, I’m Denise.” Her hand is warm and dry and soothing.

“Let’s have a look at your chart…Oh my,my, my,  it looks like you’ve gained quite a bit of weight this year…hmmm… well, no matter, it  happens sometimes. Please stand and turn around, we’re going to measure your body fat.” You heft yourself off the table and turn your back to her. Papers ruffle, metal scrapes. She grabs a generous roll of fat under you armpit and tugs firmly, your nipples pucker, your clit hardens. The cold, steel calipers pinch  and release. You hear the pen scratch across your chart. “Hmm that was a thick one,” Denise says, “I bet it represents quite a few midnight snacks, eh fat girl?” She laughs. Your breath catches in your throat, goosebumps run up your inner thighs and arms.  You feel so exposed. She grabs a huge handful of love-handle meat  and leans near your  ear, “I don’t know if the calipers can measure this one, you greedy blimp.” She lifts and squeezes and  tugs and shakes  your  blubber-packed flank.  She rolls the fat in her hand, then wobbles it. The caliper spring creaks as Denise tries to open it wide enough. A sharp pain  shoots up your side as she forces your bulging fat into the calipers.

“Ouch,” you say.

“Jesus, I’ve never seen such fat love handles, I guess I’ll just write ‘huge, fat PIG’ in the space they have  here for the measurement.” She laughs.

You begin to pant. She comes close again and grabs both bloated handles. The calipers clatter to the floor.  She begins to knead and mush the soft fat. She slides her hands around to the front of your belly and begins grabbing handful after handful. She slides a finger in your deep navel and lifts and teases your fat. Her manicured hand  slides down the front of your panties, she pinches your fattened pubic mound. She squeezes the fattened area around your clit and starts to get you off with the extra pudge. You moan deeply.  She whispers in your ear, “ Reach under my skirt, you fat f*cking HOG, I’ve got a beautiful, hard cock strapped on that’s perfect for a soft, lazy tub like you.”  

You reach under her skirt and grab the hard cock. You clit tightens almost painfully, swelling, swelling.

“Stroke it,” she says, “stroke it, lard ass, nice and slow,” she slaps the side of your belly. You wince, and grunt at the delicious heavy joggle of your fat.

Your panties are soaked, you rub the hard cock, Denise moans, you oink. She grabs your blubbery inner thighs and pinches and drags her nails lightly. You keep your rhythm. Stroke, stroke, stroke.   She leans over, panting,  to an intercom and depresses the ‘talk’ lever. “Gretchen darling, would you run next door and grab two dozen   jelly-filled and a gallon of heavy cream.” The intercom buzzes back garbled static. Denise smiles, “She’ll be here in about five minutes. Get on your knees, you overfed porker, and show me how good you are with those plump piggy lips.”  

You kneel down, flushed and puffing with excitement.  She pulls up her leather skirt  and shoves the cock in your mouth. She tugs lightly at one swollen nipple as you begin to suck and oink greedily. “That’s it you big overfed fat hog, suck it. Suck it and oink  like a good fat piggy,” you suck nosily, slurping and oinking and burying the cock in your mouth.

She leans sideways while you suck and grabs a huge handful of your belly fat and lifts and shakes it,  "We’re going to test this gut for capacity when Gretchen gets here to see just how much this overfilled bag of pig fat can hold.“ Her teasing makes you greedier. You slurp loudly, your clit tingles, hard and hot,the quick bobbing of your head causes your back fat and upper arms to quiver noticeably. Denise gasps loudly and starts to come. You come moments later.

You struggle to your feet, hot and sweating. The examination room door opens and a wide, fat blonde woman waddles in . Her belly is massive, you can see the deep outline of her belly button through straining pants as her belly fat shifts around under the tight fabric. She is carrying two large pink cake boxes and a tankard of heavy cream. You can hear the cold cream slosh and see grease soaking through the boxes.  Denise jerks you to your feet and bends you over the examination table. Gretchen smiles at you and sets the boxes near your face, “Oh she looks like a greedy one,” she says to Denise, “ I should have got three boxes of jelly-filled.”

Denise laughs, “Feel that huge gut she’s put on, Gretch.” Gretchen reaches forward and hefts your soft, hanging belly.

“Wow,” she says lightly squeezing and tugging,  ” she really stores in around the hips and waist, don’t she.“

Denises laughs again. Gretchen pops the top of the first box and picks up a glazed donut. Dark jelly oozes and drips onto the table. She holds the donut just out of reach and makes you smell it.

Denise pulls up her skirt and yanks down your panties. Your swollen lips stretch apart as she pushes inside you.

“Beg for the donut, you greedy fat ass,” Gretchen says.

“Mmph, please, feed me,  feed me like a fat f*cking pig.  I’m such a fatty…shove it in my piggy snout.”  Gretchen presses the donut into your mouth, jelly squirts into the back of your throat, glazed sugar fills one nostril and smears your cheek. Denise clutches your wide hips in bulging handfuls and thrusts as deep as your fattened ass will allow. You moan through mouthfuls and mouthfuls, through packed cheeks and a craning neck. Gretchen stuffs you like a Christmas goose. Jelly squirts onto the table, your throat packs with more sugar and dough. Your eyes rolls back in your head, your heart pounds. Denise moans as she f*cks you 

“Eat you ***ing blubber pig,  that’s it you overfed ***ing  HOG, fill that fat gut.”

Your head swims; your heavy swelling  gut slaps against your thighs, Gretchen forces you to chug heavy sweet cream, you gut swells, then sags, under the weight of your feeding. She continues to feed you, Denise reaches around your filling bulk and plays with your clits as she fingers you. You feel your ribcage and belly stretch to accommodate your stuffing. You inch closer to orgasm, so  full, oh god, so  stuffed. Gretchen shoves more in.

“That’s it wideload, pack that gut, you think you’re the first one, how do you think I got this?” she yanks down her tight pants and plops her massive white belly on the table, she shoves a donut into her navel then pushes your face in after it.

“That’s it hog,” Denise yells, “eat right out of her fat belly, we’re going to grow you one like that you lazy porker.” You start to come: the sweet jelly, the warm softness of Gretchen’s belly, your secret desire to be fattened like an absolute PIG, orgasms explode through you: you come, Denise comes, Gretchen comes.

Denise and Gretchen help you back into your tight clothes, it’s hard not to giggle. They only get the lowest button  of your jeans fastened;  you’re just too bloated. They laugh. They help you into your shirt  which won’t stay down past your ribs. Denise tugs it down, you breathe, it rides back up. More laughter. You waddle into the hall feeling like a parade float,too satisfied to care the state they’ve left you in. Your top rides up showing your alarmingly bloated  belly which stretches out before you round and tight; your pants are unbuttoned down to the last button and still the thick fat of your waist squeezes well over the belt line. You lean slightly back as you pilot your tubby piggy pot towards the exit. You’re red-faced and sweating, your eyes glassy from orgasms and sugar and cream.  Your belly sloshes painfully from side to side.

The receptionist and the people in the waiting room gasp collectively as you puff, puffing just before you waddle your soft, overfed bulk into view.  You’ve never felt so full (or so satisfied.) You cradle your belly with one hand, balance yourself against a wall with the other, and, with shallow breaths,  move slowly towards the door. You turn to the receptionist intending to say ‘I’ll call to schedule my next appointment,’ but what comes out is “BUUURRRRRAAAWWWPPPP!!!!”  The receptionist turns pale,  waiting patients inhale sharply, you open the exit door and ease slowly into the warm sunshine.  

[fictionalfatties]

imagine

a feeder also wanting to be stuffed, but they’re too shy/embarrassed to ask. the feedee starts to notice their feeder getting a little soft around the middle, but they don’t think much of it. that is, until they wake up one night and find their feeder in the kitchen, gorging themselves on whatever they can find.

all they say is: “you could’ve just told me, you know.”

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just some thoughts

characters standing up and having to bend over to accommodate their new weight

laying a hand to their belly and letting out a soft “oof” under their breath

when they can’t sit up

waddling to the kitchen to get more food

trying to stand up but having to plop back down

moans of pain or discomfort from a belly stuffed way past its capacity

bellies letting out gurgles of warning before a burp