"Fat Trimmings" Volume 19

Here is the latest volume. Three stories. Over three thousand words. Admittedly, "Won't You Get Fat For Me?" is rather short, but it's actually in line with what this collection was intended to be like.

Anyway, I hope you like them. They are: "The Big 5-0", "Won't You Get Fat For Me?", and "A Little Bit of a Lesson". "A Little Bit of a Lesson" is obviously my homage to (some would say blatant rip off of) "The Lesson" by Maverick which is a much better (and longer) story that you should check out if you somehow haven't seen it during its over twenty years on the internet.

But enough about other stories, you came to read this.

Enjoy!

“The Big 5-0”

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Fifty pounds.

She couldn’t believe it. She had actually put on fifty pounds. It couldn’t be real. And yet that reality was painfully staring her in the face in the form of a pot belly that had won an unannounced race against her modest breasts and was now surging ahead, out and over a pair of jeans that stopped fitting right ten pounds ago and had been purchased as “fat” pants twenty-five pounds ago. 

The cold hard reality of her weight gain was evident in the warmth of the fat gut that she cradled in her hands. She could feel the heft of the thing that had previously replaced her trim waist. She dropped her flabby belly and watched it bounce disappointingly before sliding her hands around the sides of her waist until she could pinch the love handles that had appeared as a set when she grew her generous gut. As she gave her muffin top a squeeze she wondered how much weight she would need to gain to make her fingers chubby.

Not that she was planning on gaining more weight. No. No. If anything she was planning on losing weight. It wasn’t like she had been planning on gaining weight at all in the first place.

Sometimes things like this just happen.

A few too many cheat days on a diet. A few missed gym sessions. They all start to add up. Too many snacks between meals, too much dessert after them. And then, of course, there’s all those late night trips to the fridge. Happy times? Eat to celebrate. Sad times? Eat to forget. Angry? Eat. Bored? Eat. Hungry? Eat until you’re full. Full? Eat a little more. It would be rude not to finish what’s on your plate. Failing to eat everything you bought is a waste of money. And what about the starving children who would love to have all this food? When you add up all the things, the total coming out to only fifty pounds of pudge is the surprising thing.

And that fifty pounds of flesh didn’t just settle around her middle she was packing on plenty of pounds down below to which made packing herself into these jeans an even more precarious fit. While it wasn’t nearly as noticeable as her bi ol’ gut, some of those fifty pounds had found their way to her thighs, swelling them up quite nicely and eliminating any thigh gap that she once had, not that she was particularly missing that. She wasn’t sure she would go as far as calling them thunder thighs just yet, but she could certainly tell that a storm was coming if she wasn’t careful.

They had an unfamiliar softness to them, her chunky thighs, a squishiness that she was not eager to become familiar with anytime soon. She was especially wary of the day when her thighs would get to know each other too well with the soft flab pressing each of her thighs together and then pushing her legs outward. She did not want to be one of those people who have to waddle about everywhere because they’ve gotten tree trunk thighs that make them too fat to walk with a normal, straightforward gait.

Her thighs weren’t the only things that got thick.

Her butt had swollen quite a bit as well. It was a full on peach, thick and juicy but threatening to be overripe very soon. While she was happy with the new size, she was not excited by the loss of firmness. Her lack of burning calories at the gym didn’t just mean her butt was getting bigger. The lack of exercise also meant that it was getting softer, squishier. She knew that even though her ass cheeks were getting more voluptuous, they would soon turn into deflated basketballs sagging down onto the backs of her thunder thighs if she wasn’t careful.

The problem was, she didn’t know how to be careful. It was like she couldn’t help herself around food. All of the thoughts of dieting seemed to fade away as if they never existed once plates of delicious food were put in front of her. She had become one of those people who needs to have her own dish and still sample everyone else’s. Hell, she didn’t even need to see food to have her ideas of dieting thrown out the window. Just the smell of something sweet or savory got her drooling and sent her into full on cravings mode.

And exercising had become such a pain in the ass as her ass got bigger, and it wasn’t like she was strictly speaking a gym rat in the first place. She was used to being just naturally slim and barely having to work at it, so now with no good habits to build off of, she was stuck with just the bad ones that were weighing her down.

She was softer all over, including her arms. Even her face had gotten softer, fuller. She didn’t quite have a permanent double chin there, but it was starting to sneak in. She could deny it. It would show up here and there, like when she was talking, or if she tilted her head down to look at something, or if she smiled. It led to a lot of untagging or straight up deleting pictures to get rid of all the ones of her smiling and bringing out that double chin.

And that’s when it hit her.

If she deleted all the pictures of her smiling, what would she be left with? A lot of dour looking photos, vain selfies with her chin carefully posed? Fakeness. And no real memories at all. Her double chin was a sign of her having a good time with friends. Should she eliminate all of them from her pictures as well? No. It was nonsense. This was all nonsense.

She loved her friends. She loved her memories. She loved herself, and if loving all of those things meant that she would have to also learn to love her double chin, then so be it.

She would love her double chin, and her hips, and her big belly and fat ass thunder thighs and cellulite and stretch marks and every part of her because every part of her came together to make her who she was and she loved who she was.

And if anybody thought otherwise?

Screw them.

They didn’t deserve her. They didn’t deserve her thoughts or her friendship. She didn’t need that kind of negativity in her life. She needed love and kindness and cupcakes. She deserved all of that, especially the cupcakes.

She’d also need bigger pants, not because of society but because - truly - this did not fit anymore and that was physically uncomfortable. But she would get new ones that were still tight! She would still show off her sexy body and not retreat into sweatpants or tent dresses. And if she gained more weight, if she had a big belly, and a flabby ass with thunder thighs that made her waddle?

So be it.

She looked herself in the mirror one more time, smacked her belly, shook her ass and blew herself a kiss. Then she took out her phone.

She had a big smile on her face as she took a picture to mark this important milestone.

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“Won’t You Get Fat For Me?”

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Won’t you get fat for me? I want you to get fat for me. Won’t you please? Pretty please with whipped cream and a cherry on top?

You like that don’t you? All this extra whipped cream on your ice cream sundae. Three scoops. I know you said you only wanted two, but I believe in you. You can do anything you set your mind to, so I know you can eat this entire ice cream sundae. Look. I even cut up a banana for you, and some strawberries, and blueberries. It’s practically a health food. Just ignore the extra hot fudge and the caramel drizzle.

I worked so hard on it. It would mean a lot if you ate it. You don’t want it to go to waste do you? It costs money you know, ice cream and fresh food. Decadence like this isn’t cheap, and you want to just waste it? I know you don’t. Come on, my little piglet.

I know you love my little pet names for you, my chubby bunny. So come on and eat up. Fill that tubby tummy.

It is getting tubby, dear. You know that. You haven’t had abs in quite a while now. No more trim waist for you. You just don’t have the control you used to have. You love this ice cream too much. That’s why I know you’re going to eat all of it. I know you’ve been sneaking snacks while I’m not around too. So don’t you go blaming me for the pounds you’ve been putting on. You wanted this. You wanted to be pampered. You wanted to be a spoiled brat, and now here we are. I’ll spoil you rotten. I’ll spoil you fat.

You used to be so mean. You used to love teasing fat people, taunting them. You loved being so in control, so dominant. But I love this version of you, this softer, submissive you. You used to call fat people lazy pigs, and now I love watching you laze around and pig out. It’s truly like being a fat pig was your calling. And I think you could spend all day on this couch eating if you set your mind to it, just eating and getting fatter without any other care in the world.

You want that. Don’t you? You want to give in completely, enjoy all the things you spent years telling yourself were wrong to enjoy, indulging in your deepest fantasies. You were slim and sexy, and now you’re chubby, but deep down I know there’s a full fledged fatty just waiting to be let out. Let that fatty out. Be what you were meant to be.

Grow a great big gut and thunder thighs. I want to see you waddling about here with a big fat blubbery ass that pins you to the couch. You want that too. I know it. You want to be served, and I live to serve you. So just say it.

Say you’ll get fat for me. Won’t you? Say you’ll put the idea of ever being thin again out of your head. Tell me you’ll accept the karma of all the hard looks and mean words you’ll face after years of you being the one making fun of fat people. They don’t matter. I’ll be here to tell you how beautiful you really are. And you are beautiful. You’ll be my prized pig overflowing with beautiful blubber. Won’t you?

You will?

You’ll get fat for me!

Oh, piggy. I’m overjoyed, over the moon. Haha. The cow jumped over the moon, and now it’s time to turn you into a real cow. Of course, you won’t be doing much jumping. Don’t worry. Don’t get up. You finish this bowl. I’ll get you some more ice cream, and maybe some cake too, and cookies!

We have lots of work to do.

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“A Little Bit of a Lesson”

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Jasmine has a simple goal, to get her co-worker Jodie to gain fifty pounds. She could have stated that her goal was simply to make Jodie get fat because it was, and Jasmine knew she wasn’t likely to get Jodie on a scale for any sort of before and after comparison. But Jasmine was a practical person, and she believed in SMART goals. Fifty pounds was specific. It was theoretically measurable if not necessarily by her. Jasmine also firmly believed that fifty pounds was a high but attainable number. It wasn’t like she sincerely believed she could get Jodie to gain one hundred pounds, at least not by herself. But she had to believe she could get Jodie to pack on fifty pounds. Thick Burger is known for fattening people up, so she didn’t think it would be too hard to set Jodie on the downward spiral down to chunky town.

And Jodie was a bitch which made this goal of fifty pounds very relevant to Jasmine. Jodie had been queen bee of their high school and through three years of college together. It was a great misfortune that the two seemed to keep running into each other and giving Jodie plenty of opportunities to taunt and flaunt in front of Jasmine.

Jodie loved to flaunt her gorgeous figure, a perfect hourglass. She had a slim and toned waist and curvaceous but tight and muscular ass. Her legs were lean but athletically built. Her breasts were the perfect size to be both big yet perky. She had a model quality face, and she was a deliciously tanned blonde. Jodie was also a rich privileged bitch, and loved to taunt Jasmine for her working class background and her portly figure alike. So robbing Jodie of her perfect figure, the thing she loved more than anything else in this whole world was paramount to Jasmine.

Time was the last thing Jasmine had to consider. Jasmine knew exactly how long she had to fatten Jodie up, one year. Jodie’s rich daddy had apparently gotten tired of her laziness coupled with her outrageous spending habits, so the previously spoiled rich girl was forced to spend one year working at Thick Burger, the most menial job her father could think of, or he would cut her off financially and force her to pay back her own exorbitant student loans. If she were to succeed, her daddy would pay for everything and set her up with a cushy job at his firm. Therefore, Jodie was thoroughly invested in sticking things out at Thick Burger no matter what, and Jasmine really wanted to use that to her advantage. 

And take advantage of things she did. Jasmine had worked herself up to the position of assistant manager, so it was easy enough to convince her manager to institute a “no waste” policy. Mistakes had to be eaten. And Jasmine made sure Jodie was in position to take the blame for mistakes, whether that was in the kitchen or in taking an order up front. Of course Jodie refused to eat her mistakes at first, but a stern talking to and reminding her that she could get fired for going against company policy meant that Jodie was soon having a few gut busting meals at least a couple times a week. 

Phase two involved getting rid of any healthy food that Jodie brought with her and convincing Jodie to take advantage of her employee food privileges. This proved to be surprisingly easy, just making sure food somehow went missing, or was knocked out of Jodie’s hands “accidentally”. And since Jodie had already gotten a taste of Thick Burger’s decadent delights from having to eat her mistakes, getting her to eat Thick Burger regularly was simple enough. The most complicated thing that Jasmine had to get right was the time. She had to make sure that Jodie’s mistakes happened after her meal breaks to make her stuffings as fulfilling as possible. This was another thing that seemed to take care of itself though as Jodie’s big Thick Burger meals tended to make her more lethargic after the fact and therefore more prone to making mistakes.

The results were inevitable.

Jodie’s metabolism tried to fight off the pounds for as long as it could. And it did a valiant job. For a while there, Jasmine wasn’t sure that she was ever going to gain near the amount of weight she wanted Jodie to gain, but eventually the weight started to show, and one day, as Jodie was stuffing down her second Thick Burger burger of the day, the button on her uniform slacks popped open.

And once that damn burst, the fat began to flow. Jodie’s abs became a thing of the past, replaced with a chubby pot belly, the perfect sign that she was eating good. It was full of bouncing, jiggling fat that strained the buttons of both her pants and her uniform shirt. And that bulging belly was in a race with her ballooning ass to see which part of her body took the most weight. Her once perky ass grew soft as the time working at Thick Burger combined with her lethargy from all the food she was stuffing her face with meant that Jodie’s gym sessions were basically reduced to zero. Therefore, Jodie’s body lost its muscle tone everywhere, and this was most evident in her ass and stomach. Her ass seemed to deflate and yet grow larger with two drooping shapeless ass cheeks. And her abs were obvious a no show after getting buried under pounds of pudge.

Her belly and ass weren’t the only things that grew of course. Jodie’s thighs thickened, and her hips grew a little wider as they too gained additional padding. Even her arms grew softer. Her flesh grew dimply, and as she spent more time working and less time going out, especially once many of her vain friends began to kick her to the curb, her skin grew pasty and seemed to always have a patina of grease from the fryer and the fried food she was consuming.

Jasmine was certain that Jodie had put on fifty pounds if not more, and she had become a social pariah to boot!

But the best part, Jasmine hadn’t even planned on. Apparently, Jodie’s lethargy extended beyond not going to the gym. It included not going to class as well, and as Jodie’s fat ass flunked her way out of college, her father cut her off financially anyway. That meant that Jodie would be stuck working with Jasmine at Thick Burger for the foreseeable future.

Jasmine was over the moon. Who knew what kind of fun she could get into with Jodie given more time. What was the limit to the amount she could get Jodie to gain, especially since Jodie was now susceptible to turning toward emotional eating after flunking out of school.

Maybe one hundred pounds wasn’t out of the question after all.

(To be continued?)