"Fat Trimmings" Volume 12 (Fattest Tuesday Edition Part Deux!)

Here we are, the second half of Fattest Tuesday. This volume has five stories and over 5,000 words. It was a lot. But here we are. I hope you enjoy.

“Immobile”

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You fat pig. Look at you. Just looking at a piece of food is enough to add the pounds onto your pudgy frame.

It’s disgusting. You’re disgusting and you should feel…. Disgusted.

Do you, Piggy? Do you feel how fucking fat you are, with your gigantic doughy belly? It must be so fat that it’s hard to breathe. It just surges out in front of you, this tremendous spare tire, this globular hanging gut over any pants that you try to wear. It always needs to make an appearance. There is no top in the world that will be containing your muffin top. How pitiful it is to have such a huge jiggly pot belly. How embarrassing it must be to be you.

It is humiliating isn’t it, Piggy? You know it. Admit it, Porker. Admit how embarrassing it is to be such a fatso, a real oinker. You’re a nervous sweating mess just thinking about it aren’t you? I can see the hairs standing up on the back of your fat neck as you think about all of this. I can see your whole body tense, well as tense as it can be with all of the thick rolls and folds of flab that you have flapping about. You’re a giant melting marshmallow of fat, a big flabby mess of a human being. You’re less than a human being. I could call you any number of fat ass animal names, piggy, whale, cow, hippo, manatee, but I’m not sure you’re even an animal anymore. Your fat ass is that useless, that helpless. You’re like a big ball of dough, fat useless, shapeless dough, Fat Ass..

And speaking of fat ass, my god. It’s hard to see now because you can’t even get up anymore, but your ass literally fills an entire couch. A couch! Not just a chari or two but any entire fucking couch. That’s pathetic, Lard Ass. You’re beyond a wide load. Your ass is two monstrous pillows for you to sit all day on. It's a shame. You spent a long time not moving that ass much as all, and every time you did move your big fat butt, it would keep moving on its own full of bounce and jiggle with every movement. For awhile those fat flabby ass cheeks of yours had a mind of their own. Before your incredible fattening, that ass of yours used to be so tight, that and your perfectly sculpted abs. You used to be so slim and sexy, so worthy of showing off your tight sexy body. You used to be so proud of your body.

But now you’re just a prodigious fatty. The only thing you have to be proud of is the perverse fact that you somehow managed to eat yourself into this gelatinous tribute to massive obesity and keep on getting fatter by the day. You could show yourself off today at a county fair winning first prize for biggest hog. To think you used to win beauty contests and parade around with ribbons. Just thing of how much fabrice they would have to use to get a ribbon around your fat waist. Disgusting! You shouldn’t be rewarded for becoming such an incredible glutton, though you could certainly win a ton of eating contests. That’s part of how you got this way.

Your fat thunder thighs are so fucking useless. They can’t even carry your fat ass around anymore. You used to be stuck waddling about, but now you can’t even manage that, you pathetic piggy. They're so huge and jiggly. They're like tree trunks that have fallen down never to get back up because you’re never going to get back up, you fat ass pig. Your thunder thighs are somehow gonna grow fatter and fatter just like you, pal squishy flesh pushing together, rolling over your fat knees. The only thing you can do is eat and watch.

No, you can’t even watch your thighs can you, porker? You fucking whale gut is too fucking big. What a shame you’re such a hippo with a huge hippo gut that’s so fucking large it spreads out enough that you can’t even see over it. I hope you’re proud of yourself, you hambeast. You’ll just have to settle for me describing how fat your useless thighs have gotten, tubbo.

And they’ve gotten huge. You used to be so athletic, and now these things are fat and useless. Your gluttony has made them atrophy. They’re pasty jello, cellulite and stretch mark riddled flab just like the rest of you.

You truly are ashamed of yourself, aren’t you? Ashamed and aroused. Disgusting. You naughty piglet, you bad bad hippo. I can see your heavy chest heaving as I tell you what a weak useless pig you are, you cow, you tub of fat lard. You used to be so fit, so hot, so vain. And now you’ve been reduced to this, an immobile blob, a helpless sack of fat. You can’t get enough of this. It’s all you are now, just this ball of what, a giant wad of fat like melted bubblegum, rolls, and folds of fat. That’s all that’s left of you.

Just fat.

And I love it.

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“Teacher Butt”

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She’s got that teacher butt, that big fat teacher butt, the kind of butt that happens when you spend too much of your time sitting behind the desk.

Sit behind your desk and get a big behind. That’s the curse of the teacher butt. Gott keep on standing up if you don’t want to get that big fat teacher butt. And she’s gotten too lazy. She used to be so slim, athletic. She ran. She played sports. She was a social butterfly who loved to party, but she was also the kind of girl who used to have a figure and a metabolism that she always figured she could count on.

She counted wrong.

Too many class parties. Too many cupcakes. Not enough gym time. Not enough movement period. So now that tight body is going to pot. Just look at how fat she’s gotten. She’s gotten fat all over, but it really started down below, and that’s where it’s most noticeable.

She’s got a big butt, a fat butt, but not a round butt. No, her teacher butt is the big and wide kind, soft and weak, squeezable, pliable, jiggly blubber butt. And on days when she dresses a bit more casual, strutting around in her yoga pants, everyone can see just how big, and wide, and soft, and fat it has gotten. It’s a big, spongy, wobbly, out of shape teacher's butt.

Her students love to watch it wobble. Whenever she takes a step it bounces, but not in a cute way. It has a mind of its own, that big fat teacher’s butt is a sloppy, sloshy mess. It wiggles and jiggles at the slightest movement. It’s redundantly soft, and through the too tight yoga pants you can see the marks of the cellulite.

And that fat butt isn’t the end of things. That may have been where the new softness that the former header cheerleader found herself piling on landed. She’s started growing a bit of a belly as well. Those frequent faculty luncheons led to her abs going away. And in their place came a new pudgy paunch with the pounds piling on pound by pudgy pound. She was getting softer. Students were noticing, and so were parents.

And those parents loved it, especially the jealous moms. So she found herself routinely getting gifts and treats- all kinds of delicious chocolatey snacks for her to stuff her face with. And all that gooey goodness meant she has been growing a globular gut.

And that’s where she is now. She’s not exactly the hot teacher anymore. She’s the chubby teacher, the going on fat teacher. And that’s where everyone knows she’s heading. She’s going to keep getting bigger, fatter. She’s doomed to become one of those fat teachers who the students love to taunt and make fun off behind her big back.

She’s the kind of fat teacher the parents love obsessing over, being catty about to make them feel better about themselves. They love watching her go from fit to fat and can’t wait to see her complete the journey from outstanding athlete to obese cow. And it feels like obesity is coming for the former mean girl turned fat teacher far faster than she would like to admit.

That big, fat, squishy, wobbly teacher’s butt is going to get bigger and bigger. That wide load is gonna keep getting wider until she can’t get through doorways without going sideways.

Keep it up, lard ass. You deserve it!

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“Getting Fat at Thick Burger”

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God, I’m getting so fat. I used to be such a slim hottie. And now…. Now look at this gut! Just look at it. It’s so freaking big and soft. I can feel it whenever I move around. It’s such a heavy, saggy, weight. Whenever I move, it swings itself around, a big jiggling mess announcing its presence. I can’t stop feeling it, squeezing it, prodding it, jiggling it. It’s just so damn pliable and so far from what it used to be.

Look at how fat it’s gotten! How fat I’ve gotten! And you know I wasn’t always this way? Let me tell you about it.

I used to have rocking abs, the kind that you could grate cheese on. I loved to touch that belly too, a flat belly, a tight and muscular one. I loved to rub my hands all over it. Maybe that’s just always been my thing, like an oral fixation except for my own stomach which I guess makes a lot of sense and probably explains a lot.

That and the fact that the food here is somehow just so damn good. But isn’t that how it works? If it’s good it has to be fattening, right? And these burgers come cook with lard and on richly buttered buns, and you can get them with all sorts of toppings, so I of course just have to get bacon and extra cheese. But the lettuce, tomato and onions are healthy, right? Lettuce is technically negative calories! And I always make sure to order mine with avocado because that’s a healthy fat.

This, as I cradle my bloated belly, looking down at this unmistakable lump of pudge- this is not healthy fat. This is useless fat, fat fat, just thick, stodgy, poke it and feel you finger sink in an entire inch of fat.

But the burger- The burger is heaven, mouth water heaven even as the grease drips down my chin and into the crease of my second one. Do you know you can have up to four patties on one burger? A quad burger is to die for, although, of course…. If I’m feeling like an extra naughty piglet, I get a quintuple. They don’t normally do that because legally serving you that much red meat is dubious, but they’ll do it if you’re a regular… and if you ask nicely… and by “ask nicely” I mean oink for them like the piggy you are.

I used to be a cheerleader, the head of my sorority, and I had a few months where I had legitimate modeling gigs lined up. And now I find myself oinking for my burger at least once a week…. On average- or… well… at least, at least once a week, often more. Oink. Oink. That’s me, Miss Ex-Skinny Bitch oinking for her dinner because she can’t get enough of that grease no matter how fat it’s going to make her- no matter how much FATTER it’s going to make ME.

I can’t control myself once I’m around all this food, and when I’m not around this food, I feel an incredible desire to be be around this food, a NEED. I used to be the kind of popular mean girl who made fun of fatties, and now that I am one, I just want to keep stuffing my face with the greasy, fattening food that made me this way. I’m never going to be skinny again. All this delicious food has weighed me down too much. I used to run half marathons and now the thought of even looking at a treadmill makes me break out in cold sweats, as opposed to the meat sweats I get from eating all of this delicious junk. It makes me feel disgusting, but I can’t help myself. I need to keep coming back for more. I can’t waddle away from all this now.

I used to have such athletic legs, but Thick Burger has turned them into thick thunder thighs, pasty tree trunks covered in cellulite. I’m a big waddling pig with wide hips and a big ol’ lard ass. Everything about me used to be too tight, and now everything wobbles. My pert bubble butt is a flabby blubber butt. It used to be something to brag about. Now it’s something to gag about. I’ve got a big blubbery butt. If you spanked it, it would jiggle on its own. I know that’s true. I’ve done it. It’s such a saggy, sloppy mess. I’m such a saggy, sloppy mess.

Skimpy skirts used to be my thing, the perfect way to show off my figure, but now I wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those with my gooey thunder thighs rubbing together and my big fat ass hanging out. And of course, jeans are right out too. My blubber butt and thunder thighs have busted the seams of all of my favorites, and my spare tire makes buttoning the front next to impossible. That’s right, all these gut busting meals have made sure my gut busts my buttons. Nope, it’s just the regular fat girl uniform for me, sweatpants stained with my finger prints from all of the greasy food I love to cram into my fat face.

I should be better than this. I should get myself back under control and on a diet or else I’m going to be an obese slob forever. But I can’t help it… just the smell of this food. The food here is everything. Thick Burger is in control now. And me? I’m not a cheerleader anymore. I’ll never be anywhere close to being in that kind of shape again. And eventually, I’ll look back at this fat body of mine and recall this as being thin. I’m going to be an absolute blob, and I can’t help it because I know the simple truth. I’m not a hot girl anymore.

I’m just a pathetic fatty.

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“From Author to Subject”

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“That’s right. Get on all fours for me, Piggy and eat that cake,” Carl barked at his pet with a voice that was filled with both lust and dominance.

Alana did as she was told. She was his now, his pet, his piggy.  She was a far cry from the stuck up- confident skinny bitch of a woman that she was when they first met. Back then she had rejected him for being too fat. Now she dwarfed him in size and would do anything to please him, including getting on all fours and eating an entire sheet cake with just her face like the pig that she had become. She enthusiastically shoved her face into the cake, oinking like she knew her master would want.

“That’s right. From hard body to hog. It’s quite the sight. Prom Queen to pig. You deserve this, don’t you?”

Alana could barely pull her greedy face away from the cake.

“Yes. Yes. I deserve this. Oink. Oink. I was such a skinny bitch. I was so mean to fatties. Now I’m the fatty. I’m your fatty, your pathetic pet piggy. I deserve to be treated this way because I’m a naughty little piglet who can’t stop eating. I’m a greedy piggy. No more hard body for me. I’m all blubber! Feed me. Tease me. Degrade me like I used to degrade others. Make me fatter! Fuck your fat, piggy! Oink. Oink. You’re so much better than me, now, and I need you. Please. OinkOinkOink. I’m so horny for you like I always should have been. OinkOinkOinkOink. Fuck your fat fucking piggy!”

Carl got behind his pet pig, grabbed the wide blubbery hips of the once stuck up princess who used to look down on him, and he thrust himself inside her. With each thrust, his own large belly slapped against her plentiful back fat, and her entire obese body shuddered with pleasure and humiliation.

As Carl continued to call her names, Piggy, Cow, Whale, Fatso, and remind her of how far she had fallen, the degradation got to be too much to handle. Alana shoved her face into the cake and moaned deeply as she began to orgasm. Carl kept his pace, and the pleasure crashed over her in waves. It became a consistent cycle of eating, oinking, and orgasming.

“Yeah. They should like that,” Annie thought as she stopped typing and closed her laptop.

“Is it good writing? Who fucking cares? These people will pay me for anything if I put the word piggy in it enough times.”

Annie had been an English major in college and quickly grew bored with the copy editing job she ended up settling for once she realized trying to make it as a serious writer wasn’t panning out, and she found that the work she ended up doing was largely unsatisfying both in the creative sense and the monetary sense. Therefore, after a few months of giving up writing she had gotten back to it and tried out whatever trends she thought she could do quickly enough to turn around some fast cash.

She had completely missed the vampire fiction trend, and her go at young adult dystopian novels was an abject failure. Next, Annie tried to capitalize on the rising demand for Dungeons and Dragons and other tabletop RPG based fantasy products with a series of quick pulp fantasy adventure novels, but, quite frankly, Annie just never really got the genre in the first place, so her sword and sorcery face petered out even faster than her ‘Your real father is secretly a god and also this world is awful because this blatant symbol of capitalism is in charge and only you can change it’ phase.

All this meant that Annie found herself falling back on the old standby that all writers keep in their back pocket and hope they never have to use.

Smut.

She tried writing vanilla shit at first, but the market was too heavily saturated to make any real impact. Annie read you could make a surprising amount of money writing hot lady fucks dinosaur porn, but then she decided that that was perhaps a bridge too far for her. No. She needed a trend that had a dedicated enough fan base but wasn’t too overly saturated with writers so she could still carve out something for herself.

And that’s what led her to fat fiction.

Annie took to writing weight gain stories with a fervor. And to separate herself a bit more, she didn’t just write any weight gain stories. Her specialty was in degradation, the hot girl turned pig type of genre. She loved to get mean. It was easy to start, she’d just take the names of some of the prettier and more popular girls from her high school and college days and enjoy the idea of these pretty, petty bitches getting super fat and having them get aroused by being called pigs.

At first, Annie had a clear rule. Like any good drug dealer, she didn’t get high off her own supply. She simply wrote stories about abs turning to flab, and tight asses becoming blubber butts. She published some quick e-books. She started picking up commission work, and she used that commission work to fill her patreon with content to attract more patrons. It was a pretty steady cycle with hopeful monetary growth.

But as her work output grew, and the money she was making grew, so did her own desires. She couldn’t help but be turned on by what it was she was writing, and by all of the other stuff that she was reading in the name of research. She had always been a rather trim woman, someone who had been trained her whole life to consider fat people as weak, lazy, ugly, people to be looked down upon. And she admitted to having said her fair share of unkind words. But she began to wonder… what would it be like to live life like one of her characters? To just let it all go and do whatever she wanted? Eat whatever she wanted?

What if she just did it?

What would it be like to truly take control by choosing to give it all up, to find strength by allowing oneself to be degraded, humiliated. She wanted just a taste of what that might actually look like.

And then she met Mike.

Mike was one of her avid readers, and after a long period of talking online, they eventually decided to meet. Mike was a handsome fellow, trim and attractive, and eager to feed Annie. And Annie was eager to be fed. With Mike at her side, Annie ate and ate and ate. If there was an indulgence she could think of, Mike was there to indulge her in it. They engaged in every roleplay scenario Annie could come up with, and soon went about taking many of them a fair few steps farther into reality.

With all the food,  before, during, and after sex, and all the lounging around she did when she wasn’t engaging in bedroom antics, Annie began to put on weight at an astounding rate. She went from thin, to chubby to fat very quickly, but she made sure she took enough time to properly monetize her own journey. She took pictures and videos as her life became its own story. She sold it all right alongside her fiction pieces, and she became more popular than ever. People loved to call her all sorts of names online, and Annie loved to hear it.

As for Mike, well, all of Annie’s eating began to rub off on him as well, and soon his abs had turned into a dedicated pot belly and his well chiseled pecs became flabby man boobs. He had gone from a stereotypical hot guy to a chunky fat boy with a gut and moobs and a fat flabby ass, and Annie couldn’t have been happier because it meant that they were finally able to reenact the favorite scene Annie had ever written.

“That’s right. Get on all fours for me, Piggy and eat that cake,” Mike barked at his pet with a voice that was filled with both lust and dominance.

Annie shivered with the thrill of being told what to do, of knowing that this was the life she had chosen for herself. She had willingly become the subject of her own story, a fat pig to be controlled and humiliated by others. She was free of anything other than what she wanted to do. All her smut, all of own degradation, paid for everything she would ever need, and she was happy.

“I said eat you fat fucking pig, you useless sack of lard. All you’re good for now is eating, and fucking, so eat, piggy. EAT!” Mike commanded.

Alana smiled and did as she was told. She was his now, his pet, his piggy.  She was a far cry from the stuck up- confident skinny woman that she used to be. Now she dwarfed her fat boyfriend in size and would do anything to please him, including getting on all fours and eating an entire sheet cake with just her face like the pig that she had become. She enthusiastically shoved her face into the cake, oinking like she knew her master would want.

“That’s right. From hard body to hog. It’s quite the sight. Prom Queen to pig. You deserve this, don’t you?”

Annie could barely pull her greedy face away from the cake. Its taste was incredible, and her hunger was second only to her desire to degrade herself further.

“Yes. Yes. I deserve this. Oink. Oink. I was such a skinny bitch. I was so mean to fatties. Now I’m the fatty. I’m your fatty, your pathetic pet piggy. I deserve to be treated this way because I’m a naughty little piglet who can’t stop eating. I’m a greedy piggy. No more hard body for me. I’m all blubber! Feed me. Tease me. Degrade me like I used to degrade others. Make me fatter! Fuck your fat, piggy! Oink. Oink. You’re so much better than me, now, and I need you. Please. OinkOinkOink. I’m so horny for you like I always should have been. OinkOinkOinkOink. Fuck your fat fucking piggy!”

Mike got behind his pet pig, grabbed the wide blubbery hips of the once stuck up princess who used to look down on him, and he thrust himself inside her. With each thrust, his own large belly slapped against her plentiful back fat, and her entire obese body shuddered with pleasure and humiliation. She loved feeling Mike’s fat gut and thinking about how it used to be washboard abs. She was happy that she had destroyed him too so that there was no way he would cheat on her. No woman would want his fat flabby body now. The former ladies’ man was all her. He would be her master and she would be his big fat pet piggy forever.

As Mike continued to call her names, Piggy, Cow, Whale, Fatso, and remind her of how far she had fallen, the degradation got to be too much to handle. Annie shoved her face into the cake and moaned deeply as she began to orgasm. Mike kept his pace, and the pleasure crashed over her in waves. It became a consistent cycle of eating, oinking, and orgasming.

Eventually the two collapsed and lay there entangled in fat and food and bliss, and Annie sucked cake from her fingers and thought about how wildly happy she was. Then she pressed the stop recording button and dreamed about uploading her latest video to her website.

She was her own best selling story.

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“What If?” Part 12

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What if she doesn’t want to stop?

These feeding sessions are getting extra intense, not just the ones she does on live stream, but the ones she does with her knew feeder boyfriend. He’s so loyal. So kind. So cute. He started out as a fan and then became so much more.

Now he loves to feed her, tease her, and play with her. And she loves it all too, especially the feedings- the stuffings is what they are. She is always stuffed until she feels like she can’t move and it is pure unadulterated bliss.

Her stomach is getting bigger. It’s been a generous potbelly for a while now, but with each feeding it gets stretched further. All the eating that she does ensures that her belly is pretty much always bloated and has become the predominant feature of her fat body. It is a spongy gut that sags and bounces whenever she walks. It leads the way as she enters any room, and it loudly announces itself, peeking out from any shirt that she tries to wear, either under the fabric or through gaps in the buttons. It is flabby flesh that jiggles at the slightest movement and consistently begs for two things: More food and belly rubs.

The belly rubs really help out. With all the food she consumes, she needs to be rubbed down to make more room in time for whatever video it is that she’s going to shoot. And it just feels so good, to have her flabby flesh touch, caressed, squeezed, patted, prodded, jiggled, anything. She loves it when her feeder whispers in her ear and calls her names, tells her what a naughty piglet she is, reminds her of how thin she used to be and how fat and out of shape she is now.

And she is getting very out of shape. She can still dance, but it’s not for nearly as long as she used to when she first started her live streams. And all the added fat, the fuller belly, thicker thighs, wider hips, all of that excess flab has made her movements more clumsy and awkward. She doesn’t have the same dancers grace she did when she started and was chubby to borderline fat and not knocking on the door of full blown obesity. She makes up for it though with the sheer amount of movement. Her stomach sloshes, her thick thighs quiver, her as bounces as her wide hips sway. Everything moves – often to a rhythm, and it is always hypnotic. Her dance sessions are still one of her biggest money makers even if they don’t last as long as they used to because she’s getting winded sooner.

That’s the problem. That’s why she’s worried that she might have to stop eating so much. She’s all for gaining more weight. She has no delusions about being a slim hottie again. No. She knows she’s a big fat piggy for the rest of her life. But how fat is she going to get, and – more importantly – how long is she going to take to get there? She wants to be able to milk as much content out of what she does as possible which means that she wants to keep her gain steady but slower so that she can draw out her dancing, draw out the kinds of play that she does, draw out the amount of food that she’s eating so that she doesn’t hit a major plateau and get stuck there for too long.

So she might have to cut back on the extra curricular feedings and keep all of her big stuffing moments till she’s on camera?

But then what will her boyfriend think? How can she please him?

She wants to please him. She wants to make him feel good. Making him feel good makes her feel good, and she wants them both to be in that forever state of bliss, entangled together, flesh on flesh. She wants to feel his arms around her, his touch as she squeezes and plays with her weighty fat in his hands. She wants to be fed by him because that’s what arouses her the most, especially because she knows that’s what arouses him the most.

So if she has to cut back on the extracurricular feeding sessions, at least a little bit. Than she’s going to have to figure out something special to do for him instead.

What might that be?