BS Writer

"Pizza Shop Swap": An Exclusive Cut

Here is the latest story I've written for volume 8 of "Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts", stories only for patreon as voted on and suggested by you.

Enjoy!

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Karin was a curvy goddess who ruled over a gaggled of slim and sexy friends. They were all vain and vapid hangers on, but Karin loved the power that came with being the queen bee of their group. 

And she loved directing her drones to use their stingers.

Karin's favorite target was a woman who worked at the local pizza shop named Bonnie or Bonnie the Bovine as Karin loved to call her. Bonnie was a butterball of a woman, a fat girl who Karin loved to torment. She would poke her, oink at her and of course greet her with a loud spirited moo.

She loved watching Bonnie waddle over to them for the hundredth time forced to put up with their pettiness for a paycheck.

“Hello there, Bonnie the Bovine. Or should I say moooooooo?”

The other ladies laughed as Bonnie was stuck standing there with tears behind her eyes and a pasted on her big fat pizza face.

“Can I take your order?”

Before Karin could give her usual order for a salad with dressing on the side, everything went fuzzy. She blinked and found herself standing behind the counter wearing a uniform much like Bonnie had been. And when she looked around neither Bonnie nor her friends were there. There was nobody there whatsoever.

There was only the food.

Karin suddenly felt a pain in her stomach. Was she sick? Or was she just….

Hungry?

Karin looked down at the tray full of fresh hot garlic knots that were sitting right in front of her. They were glistening with oil, and the pungent smell of garlic, basil and oregano filled her nostrils. She felt almost like one of those cartoon characters being pulled by the scent and floating over to the tray. Her mouth was watering and her stomach rumbled even louder the closer she got to the savory morsels that awaited her.

Without even realizing it, her mouth was already full of one and two more were in each of her hands. From that moment on, she went to town. The garlic knots went down one after another as she tore into the doughy delights like a rabid animal. The oil ran down her chin as her teeth sank into garlic knot after garlic knot. The texture, crunchy and then immediately doughy with the perfect chew, the flavor- so savory- it was all phenomenal, and yet she was eating them so fast that all of it seemed to blend together. The act of eating became more mechanical, and before Karin knew it, she had polished off the entire tray.

And after somehow eating the entire tray of doughy garlic knots, Karin looked down and found herself with a doughy belly to match.

Her abs had become a bulging gut that strained the buttons of her uniform shirt. In fact, several of them had popped open allowing a roll of fat to spill out. She fondled her fat with her fingers and found that it was like kneading raw pizza dough. It was a spongy texture, and as she recoiled from it, it bounced up and down for a few moments and then sprung back into place.

Karin had to get out of here. She needed to get to the gym. Or a doctor! The gym and then the doctor! But she felt the same rumble as before, and this time her hunger pointed her in the direction of a big tray of spaghetti and meatballs.

She didn’t even bother with a spoon.

Instead her hand dug into the spaghetti and was soon shoveling it into her mouth without care to where the sauce would go, and, as a result, she ended up wearing a lot of it. She slurped the spaghetti down, spraying sauce out in front of her like a snake spitting venom, and then she took to the large meatballs two fists at a time. 

When she was done with feasting on spaghetti and meatballs, Karin found that she had expanded further. Not only had her belly grown larger, fatter and yet not taut as one might expected from someone who had just finished stuffing herself silly- it maintained its turgid sagginess- but she found that even more of her had grown. As she looked at her sauce covered hands, she found she was staring at chubby fingers, and those chubby, messy mitts were attached to chubby arms, soft limbs with the start of distinct bingo wings.

And before she could do anything else, reflecting on the state of her arms brought a rumble to her tummy and her attention to a large platter of buffalo wings.

Soon the sauce from the wings joined the stains on her hands and cheeks as she tore into the delicious chicken, moaning as she did so. The moan caught Karin off guard and made her want to stop, but it was like she was no longer in charge of her chubby hands, and she kept greedily sucking down wing after wing after wing. She didn’t know how she did it. She couldn’t have possibly done it, and yet here she was eating like there was no tomorrow. She sucked every bone completely clean until there was nothing but naked bones remaining with the remnants of her feast being the sauce on her face and hands and the small bits of chicken that had fallen into her cleavage.

That cleavage had grown. Karin could feel it in her back. Her big breasts were now bloated and saggy, and, although she couldn’t see the stretch marks, she knew they were there. She had pillowy breasts that would have been impressive if her globular gut had not grown to out pace them. She was the epitome of gluttony now with a gut that was a tremendous spare tire grown outward and threatening to sag down toward her knees. Karin knew she had to stop. Things were already out of hand.

But then her chubby hands started moving toward the pizzas.

So many kinds of pizza:

Regular pizza, white pizza, pizza with sausage, pizza with bacon, pizza with barbecue chicken, buffalo chicken, there was even pizza with ham and pineapple on it, and Karin went to town on them all. She didn’t know how many slices. She didn’t know how many pies. She didn’t know how she did it. She just knew that she mowed down slice after slice going down the line and back like she was some kind of pizza eating typewriter. It was an endless pizza buffet and the results of her incredibly binging were clear.

By the time she finished eating she was no longer walking up and down the line of pizzas. She was waddling. Karin’s toned athletic thighs had become tubes of fat, thick thunder thighs that slapped and rubbed together threatening to burn holes in her unflattering uniform slacks from all the chafing. Her saddlebags were stretching the seams. Like the stretch marks on her breasts, Karin couldn't see it, but she knew that her flabby legs were coated in cellulite, and she knew that that cellulite extended to her ass as well.

Her ass had blown up into two beanbag cushions of well marbled fat. She had a tremendous, wobbly blubber butt with titanic cheeks of chunk that jiggled and sway at the slightest movement and swung independently of each other like they had minds of their own. She felt like an absolute whale, and as she caught her reflection in the stainless steel pizza oven, she wanted to scream.

She was the perfect picture of a pizza eating pig, someone who had spent their entire life eating themselves into obesity. She was a round ball of fat, a flabby blob. Even her face had thick jowls that made her eyes look beady, and her nose seemed to be somehow fatter and more piggish. She had a big flashing neon sign of a double chin. The smattering of acne on her oily skin gave her an appropriate pizza faced quality.

Karin’s uniform was complete now with an apron and everything, and her hands and cheeks were now mostly clean as she turned back to the table where her friends were waiting. 

They were all a little fatter. Not fat per say, certainly not nearly as fat as her, but they had starter bellies and slight double chins when they laughed.

And Karin could tell they were laughing at her.

“Oink oink,” they snorted as a chorus as Karin waddled over to them. 

She could tell as she approached their seats that they were all a little thicker in the thighs and their butts must have been plumper and softer. All of them had definitely gained some weight… almost all of them.

At the head of the table and Bonnie the Bovine, but she was now just as curvy and toned as Karin used to be. She was clearly the ruler of these social inferiors, lording her status over them. Bonnie turned to look at her with a big, knowing grin on her face.

“Hello there, Karin the Cow. Or should I say mooooooooooooo?”

The chorus of laughter that followed made Karin go flush with humiliation and then red with anger. She wanted to give them all a piece of her mind, but she could only think of one thing to say as her reality reset itself and her past life only became something to revisit in her dreams and nightmares.

“Can I take your order?”

"Habits Changed. Weight Gained." (Deviant Art 500 Watcher Special)

Hello.

This piece was created as part of Exclusive Cuts Volume 8 based on the theme of role reversal, but, because I recently reached 500 Watchers in Deviant Art (where I suspect most of my wonderful patrons originally found me) I also let my watchers suggest a piece, and, in a very rare move, I actually posted it there first.

This story was originally going to be called "Toxic Drains Leads to Gains" because the suggestion was more focused on like the literal draining of toxic traits ala Rick and Morty, but I just couldn't crack that, so I went the tried and true hypnosis act and here we are.

Deviant Art is a really important platform for me, and the great patrons that I get from there allow me to continue to focus on generating more content, including exclusive content, right here.

If people have to ability to favorite and comment on the original post, and any of my DA posts, that will help boost their exposure and therefore help me out even more which is of course, greatly appreciated.

Anyway, enough talk. Story time.

Enjoy!

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Camila wanted to eat candy so bad. She was just dying for a piece of chocolate, a bar of chocolate, a whole fountain of chocolate. But she wasn’t about to give into her cravings. Giving into cravings is for the weak. 

So she smoked another cigarette instead.

There were many foods that Camila wanted to eat that she regularly denied herself. These include desserts of all kinds and most carbohydrates among many others. Denying herself all of these delicious things led to a nasty case of anxiety and drove her into a terrible cigarette habit, two things that Camila was eager to rid herself of.

Smoking habit notwithstanding, Camila was considered by many to be absolutely smoking hot. She was a petite woman with a curvy but slim and toned body, even though she wasn’t able to workout a ton in the gym because, again, the smoking thing. She was a thin girl whose denial of treats, smoking habit, and anxiety all stemmed from her desire to stay that way. Camila knew that, if she gained any amount of weight, it would be immediately noticeable because of her height, so this led to her strict dieting and the smoking to aid in the dieting, and the two of those things gave her extreme anxiety. These things also had an additional consequence.

Camila was an incredible bitch.

Being so stereotypically slim and sexy and having worked so hard to stay that way filled Camila with a false sense of superiority that she wielded as a weapon against her own anxiety. Unfortunately for everyone else, that meant that Camila was hyper critical of others, especially fat people whom she could not stand. To her, fat people represented her own worst nightmare, as nonsensical as that was. Her own personal insecurities and distaste for the overweight, made her the kind of person who loved to mock others, to tear them down to make herself feel better.

And there was no better, fatter target for Camila than her co-worker Ellie, or Ellie the Elephant as Camila loved to call her. Ellie was an incredibly large girl, a big ball of fat who lacked self-confidence and had replaced it all with food. Ellie was an extreme emotional eater, and since Camila made her very emotional on a regular basis she was constantly eating and consistently growing fatter which meant, in a vicious cycle, Camila was able to make fun of her more.

Camila and Ellie were physical opposites. Camila had tight abs and a perky heart-shaped butt. Ellie had a spherical spare tire and an enormous blubber butt. Camila had lean legs whereas Ellie had tree trunk like thunder thighs that caused her to waddle about. Camila technically had smaller breasts than Ellie, but they were far perkier than Ellie’s sagging udders. Camila had an angular face with high cheekbones, and Ellie’s face was a round moon complete with a doughy double chin.

The one thing they did have in common was that they eventually got tired of their toxic traits. Camila wanted to rid herself of anxiety and her bad smoking habit. And Ellie wanted to gain self-confidence and stop being an over eater.

Both of them happened to end up at The Oluwai Institute at the same time. The Institute was new and seeking people willing to try out their new methods. It was an opportunity to solve their problems and get paid a little extra cash just for being a part of their research. It was a win win!

The Oluwai Institute was mostly just a week long spa experience with a host of activities and amenities designed to aid in relaxation as well as some basic vitamin enhancements. The whole thing was designed to flush out physical and mental impurities, to drain toxicity and send people out relaxed and renewed. The biggest thing that the Oluwai Institute did was its mental conditioning. Through a variety of mental influence methods, including hypnosis, and subliminal messaging, mental blocks were built up inside patients to help them break free of their toxic thoughts.

And it worked wonders!

For Ellie, she felt like a brand new woman, like she could do anything. She felt a confidence in herself that she never knew was possible. With new vigor and energy she no longer felt the need to eat her feelings. In fact, she even took to dieting and exercising with ease.

And Camila?

Well she ate chocolate for the first time in forever.

And cupcakes. And cookies. And bread, lots and lots of bread.

What Camila didn’t realize was that taking away her anxiety would also include taking away her aversion to food and intense need to diet. And getting rid of her smoking habit led to her filling her oral fixation with food. She didn’t even think to care about any possible results. And those results were many.

She was a calmer person. A kinder person.

A fatter person.

Camila’s new carefree lifestyle caused the pounds to pile on, and as she had always feared even the first few pounds were immediately obvious.

Her precious abs melted into a small little pot belly, delightfully doughy given all the bread she was eating. It had a distinct jiggle to it right away, and it formed a thick roll that liked to poke itself out from under her t-shirts or like to strain the buttons of her blouses. Camila’s thighs also quickly softened and grew noticeable saddlebags and wobbled and slapped together as she walked. Her perky pert butt also began to soften as she started to spend more time sitting on her growing ass just reclining and relaxing. Camila’s cheeks got chunky indeed and had a whole new bounce to them with each step. The rest of her softened as well, including breasts that began to overfill their cups, softer arms, and a slightly rounded face with a hint of a double chin whenever she smiled.

And Camlia was so free of anxiety that she didn’t care. Her body was her body, and she wasn’t going to deny herself anymore of the delicious delights she had been abstaining from. She was going to indulge.

With her appetite now completely unhinged with her anxiety safely locked away, Camila truly embraced her new desire to indulge.

And within a year she looked like a completely different person.

Camila may have started getting chubby, but after almost a year of indulging she had grown to be thoroughly obese.

Where once there were abs, and then a pudgy pot belly, there was now a huge spare tire, a great big fatty mass threatening to split into a true double belly as it hung over the waistbands of her pants. It sagged like an apron of fat and jiggled with the slightest movement. It was like a giant weighted pillow that stuck out in front of her, extremely soft and supple and yet massively heavy due to its sheer volume. Her middle had grown so fast, just like the rest of her there were stretchmarks along the lower part of her belly as well as on the thick love handles that accompanied it. Those love handles were large enough to give her torso a blown out barrel kind of shape and make people sitting next to her on buses, trains, or airplanes rather uncomfortable. Her greedy gut was a turgid slab of fat filled by endless pastries and pudding, chips and casseroles of all kinds. She was a well fed glutton with the gelatinous gut to prove it, and that blubbery belly was large enough to serve as a suitable shelf for the large pillowy breasts that she had grown as well.

She had true crumb catcher cleavage. Those big breasts were like sagging pendulums that swung out if she wasn’t wearing the strongest of bras, and yet the stretchmarked pillows were dwarfed by the rest of Camila’s obese body as most of the weight that she gained found itself settling elsewhere.

The other part of Camila’s body that took on a shelf-like quality just like her mammoth belly was her titanic ass. She grew two big blubbery bean bag butt cheeks, huge wobbling slabs of fat. Her gluttony grown glutes were thick with fat and covered with cellulite. Each was so large and soft that they seemed to bounce in their own rhythm when she was waddling about. They were great big chunky cushions that made sitting anywhere very comfortable provided the seat was actually larger enough to hold her and sustain her weight. She was no longer the kind of person suited for delicate antique furniture and was well on her way to being the kind who needs two chairs instead of one.

The weight of Camila’s wobbling cheeks, and, indeed the weight of the rest of her morbidly obese body was supported by two tremendous legs thickly built not with muscle but with fat. They were thighs full of thunder, great flabby things that were shaped vaguely like oversized turkey legs, extremely fatty turkey legs. The fat looked like it was in an almost perpetually melting state as it was starting to roll over her knees. And, of course, Camila was cursed with cankles as her calves and ankles had both swelled enough to be indistinguishable from each other. She even had to go up shoe sizes, abandoning her glamorous heels for simple flats because her feet had become too swollen with fat with her delicate digits becoming thick sausage toes. Her feet fat and blubbery thighs made walking a slow, awkward process as she was forced to waddle about. 

This was made all the worse by the continuous swinging of her fat ass and blubbery belly. Her gut in particular made it frequently look like she was in danger of falling down if she actually managed to get any momentum going, and her wide hips and blubber butt were prone to knocking things over and banging against tables and doorframes.

Camila’s had become almost unrecognizable, a moon of fat framed by jowls and a pair of extra chins. The angular jawline and high cheek bones were long buried under blubber. It left the previously glamorous girl with a rather dull appearance, especially since her hair had lost its luster as well since her new carefree attitude meant she spent much less time on general maintenance.

Sweats became the norm, or any other outfits that were stretchy and comfortable. Ease was what Camila had become all about, and any chances of promotions at work slipped her by as her new found laziness made her a less than ideal employee. Truth be told, she only did enough just to get by and keep her job, and spent the rest of her time being much more focused on eating.

At least, that was the case until some of the mental conditioning began to wear off.

It was like Camlia suddenly looked in a mirror one day and realized what had happened to her. She screamed for a solid two minutes. Camila had clear memories of her whole year of being anxiety free. It wasn’t like she had come out of a coma. It was just that with the mental blocks keeping her anxiety at bay wearing down, her usual anxiety triggers came back to the forefront, and, unfortunately, that meant that Camila was robbed of the body confidence she had developed over time and resorted back to her original toxic fears. 

Being fat was her nightmare and she was living it.

All of the names she used to call fat girls now, in her mind, applied to her and she was devastated. And as she waddled about with her own self-confidence shattered, it was easy for her to become more susceptible to the cattiness of others and feel like a big fat punching bag. It was like she finally felt the full karmic weight of her past vanity and cruel actions. She was tormented by the insecurities she had projected onto others, a prisoner to her own prejudices.

As for her former tormentee, Ellie the Elephant, well she was not nearly as large. Ellie had successfully lost a lot of weight, and, more importantly, discovered a love for herself and her body that she had been previously missing. Although she was still larger than what many fools in society would hold up as a false ideal, Ellie was a confident girl who owned her curves, and she felt no need to waste her time stressing out about having to be a certain size. And she never forgot where she came from and never made a point of humiliating others (even though she did enjoy a bit of secret schadenfreude over Camila’s troubles- Camila the Cow as she sometimes said only in her own head. She was happy and productive and progressing professionally. Her life was shaping up to be as happy as possible.

Meanwhile, Camila was stuck living a menial existence, toiling along at her job without the hope of advancement that she had originally envisioned for herself. Her days were full of lumbering about with her fat body, waddling about her peers and dealing with the prejudices of herself and society. Thanks to her short stature, she was basically a bowling ball of fat. With all her blubber, Camila felt like a whale, and she had to accept it. She was a fat girl and was always going to be a fat girl. There was no going back for her. The only thing she was certain of was that she was going to be getting fatter because now she, not Ellie, was the emotional eater. Food was her comfort. It was all she had, and so she knew she was doomed to grow fatter and fatter.

But at least she never smoked a cigarette again.

The Scales of Time: Vivian's Interlude

Take a look inside Vivian's mind as she takes a trip down her new memory lane and tries to plot her final move against Julie. Eloise returns!

I know we all want to get to climactic fight between Julie and Vivian, but I've been wanting to take this trip with Vivian for quite a while, and I hope it proves to be a satisfying experience.

Enjoy!

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Vivian was incredibly over being fat. She had no room in her cold heart for body positivity, and wanted nothing more to revert back to her stereotypically slim and sexy self, the way things ought to be. She hated being this ball of blubber that Julie the Absolute Landwhale had turned her into. Even more than the thirst for vengeance, which twisted and burned like a knot made of fire underneath all of the buttery blubber that made up her belly, Vivian decided to return her body to the shape she felt the most confident in and to reclaim the power that she knew was rightfully hers.

Vivian used to have the sweetest dreams, dreams of success and power. She used to live those dreams. She was as sexy as she was ambitious and she had the whole world in the palm of her hand. This was especially true when it came to the people around her. With her body and her confidence, she turned heads, drew eyes to her, and once she commanded the attention she craved and deserved, she was adept at getting people to do whatever she wanted. People wanted to please her. They loved her. They feared her. Vivian was the person people dreamed of being and their worst nightmare if they got in her way.

But now Vivian’s mind was muddled with new memories. Horrible memories that she was forced to carry with her even though she knew she should not have them. They were her own and not her own, and she did not want them. Yet the magic would not yield. It crammed the memories into her mind leaving it tighter than her overtaxed pants spilling with fat. She could feel them squirming around in there as everything was still fluid as if the magic was trying to keep things as elastic as possible knowing that at any moment it would need to rip these memories out and substitute new ones.

This was magic far beyond the scale even she was used to dealing with, she doubt it touched upon what most in her coven had ever tried. Normally, the witches in Vivian’s coven worked in the present or the near past. And then the magic filled in the gaps, vague memories, hand waves, a lack of caring about how something is. Usually the magic worked in deja vu and mental fog, memories like matte paintings in the background.

But to stitch up years worth of time, to change everything for so many people, while still maintaining a full set of original memories of how things really were… Vivian could see why too many shifts would be maddening, why her and Julie were already pushing the boundaries going this far.

And these memories were just so vivid, as she slipped through time itself it was like she could reach out and grab them, playing them over in her head.

She saw herself at the end of freshman year of college. Before ballooning to the size she was now, Vivian would have called this version of herself chubby, but suddenly she saw this slightly overweight version of the vixen she once was and she was jealous. Her heart tugged with a longing to be that thin again.

Vivian saw her slightly chubby self sitting with her usual crew of Eloise, Darla, and Reyna, powerful witches in their own right, the perfect cronies. She cringed at the sight of herself wearing a deep v-neck t-shirt that fit much better about a dozen or so pounds ago. The shirt she remembered was an attempt to draw focus to her slightly larger breasts by creating a dramatic bit of cleavage. But all she could see now was the bit of belly pudge poking out from underneath her shirt. It was a rogue roll of fat that forced the shirt to ride upward as it announced itself to the world. The blubbery bit of belly quivered as Vivian ate her brunch, a meal that was far too large and that she was eating far too quickly.

“Jeez, Vivian. Don’t choke on it.” snickered Eloise which got the other girls chuckling in turn, but chubby Vivian was too busy scarfing down her double bacon egg and cheese on a croissant and getting crumbs everywhere to truly notice and/or care.

Chubby Vivian didn’t realize it at the time- too busy tucking into a big piece of quiche- but fat Vivian could see Darla and Reyna leaning toward each other in a whispered conversation.

“Damn, she sure has been eating a lot more recently.”

“And it shows.”

“I wonder how she can put all that away.”

“Well, I’ll tell you where it’s going, to that gut she’s growing.”

“She better be careful, or she’s going to get really fat.”

“Yeah. It’s bad enough that she’s getting tubby. If she’s not careful, she’ll be a real cow.”

“She’s already eating like a pig. Oink. Oink.”

“Oink. Oink. Oink.”

The girls snorting drew chubby Vivian’s attention, and she whipped her head toward them. She thought about saying something, but to address the oinking would be to admit that they were at her expense which was tantamount to admitting that she actually had a weight problem. Instead she took another angry bite of her sandwich and sent a dribble of runny egg down her chin. It landed in her cleavage which drew another bout of barely contained laughter from the other ladies at the table.

With the sandwich and quiche polished off in short order, Vivian reached for a cupcake.

“Do you really want that?” asked Eloise with a well pointed eyebrow raise.

“What?” asked chubby Vivian incredulously. She was already sizing up Eloise’s incoming attack.

“I mean. Do you really think you need a cupcake?”

“I want the cupcake?”

“But should you really be having it?”

The two stared at each other locked in a battle of wills. This was a moment of great contention, the kind of moment that signals a possible shift in power. Eloise was practically daring chubby Vivian to ask her next question, and Vivian, still overconfident, still believing she could confront Eloise directly and shut her down, fell right into the trap.

“And why shouldn’t I?”

Eloise’s sneer shifted into a Cheshire cat grin. She had caught her canary.

“Because you’re getting fat.”

Vivian practically fell out of her chair.

“WHAT?!???” She couldn’t believe the unmitigated gaul that this girl, her friend, her toadie, would say something so bold. There was only one thing she could think to do, double down with blanket denial.

“I am not getting fat.”

“Then what’s this?”

Eloise reached under the table and tickled the tell-tale tub that was hanging from Vivian’s midsection. Vivian recoiled and was too stunned to say anything, so Eloise pressed her advantage.

“Admit it. You’ve gotten kinda tubby.”

“I am not tubby!”

“Stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand up!”

Too flustered to think of anything else to do, chubby Vivian found herself giving in to Eloise’s aggression and submissively doing what she was told. As soon as she did, Eloise reached forward and pinched one of the love handles that made up Vivian’s muffin top right there in front of anyone who was able to see.

Laughter rang out.

“Fuck you!” yelled Vivian.

She grabbed the cupcake and shoved it into her mouth as she walked away, not caring about the crumbs that she left flying. On her way out she grabbed a pair of cookies so that she could go and find a dark little corner to eat them in like a good little fat girl, a naughty little piglet.

Fat Vivian couldn’t stand it anymore and let herself fall back into the stream.

One year later, Vivian found herself again, fatter than before and hobbling around the dining hall in a walking boot. This chubbier Vivian was crammed into a tracksuit, the most ironic form of attire for someone so clearly injured and also clearly out of shape. Perhaps crammed was the wrong word, fat Vivian thought. Crammed implied that she was fitting into it, and this chubbier Vivian was clearly burst out of her tracksuit.

It was like chubbier Vivian was already giving up. Her belly was big and lazy and pushed the top she was wearing up past her belly button even when she was just walking around. Her thighs were causing the fabric of her pants to rub together. Fat Vivian felt her own thighs, now massive tree trunks and knew that this past version of herself was currently doomed to grow thunder thighs that would make her waddle. She missed the days of even hobbling around with the walking boot on because it still made her movement less slow and awkward.

Chubbier Vivian’s ass had just given up. It had no illusions of being firm and was just a chunky, broken down, sagging mess. It was clear that her inability to work out, and the extra calories from her incessant snacking had the largest effect on the muscles of her formerly tight butt which were now very mushy. She was getting a fat butt indeed.

Fat Vivian was her chubby hands along her own broad backside and sighed at the realization that even if she used two hands on one blubbery cheek she couldn’t fit all the fat in them.

She watched this past version of herself stuff her face with an ungodly amount of pasta and breadsticks. She was making a mess of sauce and crumbs as she scarfed down her meal like there was no tomorrow. It was a mess of slop, and she was the pig, a greedy, gluttonous pig. 

Vivian wanted to tell herself to stop. She reached out, ready to make this her moment in the shift, to try and change everything for her right here, to get her diet back on track and hopefully avoid becoming the full on landwhale that she was. But it was like something was stopping her… or… someone.

“Julie.”

She could sense that medding fat girl. That fantastically fat bitch (ignoring the fact that they were currently the same size) was messing with her mind, MAKING her eat. That’s how she did it!

As the chubbier Vivian continued to stuff her face under Julie’s influence, fat Vivian felt herself shoved back into the timestream, now more desperate than ever to pick her perfect shot to turn things around with ideas slipping through her fat fingers like sand. And as she slipped she found herself landing in another horrible moment in time.

Closer to the present, like a mirror it was a scene reminiscent of a memory she held of her and Eloise. It was the dining hall again, and this time Eloise was standing in front of an obese Vivian and grabbing the obese witch’s bulbous belly like Vivian did to the fallen Eloise.

“OINK OINK, PIGGY! Ha! Does that even do you justice?”

Elosie slapped Vivian’s belly.

“You’re more of a cow.”

She slapped it again and watched as it jiggled furiously.

“Or a whale.”

Eloise shook the obese Vivian’s belly with one hand while spanking her pathetic blubber butt with the other.

“Whatever you are, it’s fat as hell. You’re a big lard ass loser, Fatso. Disgusting! You blob!”

Both Vivian’s were crying as the fatter present day Vivian slipped back into the timestream. She needed to beat Julie. She needed to turn things around, but she needed to see something else first, a desperate hope clinged to her heart.

And she was rewarded.

There she was just the day before her contest, sitting alone in the dining hall. She was her currently obese form and with plates of food stacked around her, but that wasn’t what she cared about. No. What she wanted to see more than anything was who was serving sloppy joes that day.

And sure enough, there she was, the defeated Eloise still looking like a full on blubber blob. The only difference in this memory was that it was Darla and Reyna making fun of Eloise, shaking her belly, spanking her lard filled ass. Vivian just sat there eating, quietly chuckling, enjoying the schadenfreude and hoping they wouldn’t soon be coming for her. As present Vivian turned away, she knew that the last part would not come true.

But Vivian couldn’t think about that anymore. She had savored a small bit of revenge, but she couldn’t settle for that. She couldn’t allow herself to forget that these memories were not real. They were place holders until she could set things right. She should be the one shaking Eloise’s big belly. She should be smacking Julie’s fat ass.

She had to think, had to pick a moment. Even now she could feel Julie closing in, chasing her down.

Wait.

That was it.

Vivian opened her mind. She let it fill the whole time stream at once, not searching for herself but for Julie. She could sense her, following her. The fool. She had gotten predictable, blown her advantage. Now Vivian knew where she would be going, and it was wherever Vivian was which meant it would be wherever Vivian wanted it to be.

The dining hall. It always came back to the dining hall. And that memory of Julie forcing Vivian to eat like an absolute pig.

“You fat bitch. Two can play your game, and I’m destined to play it better.”

Vivian waited, stretched her mind taut, let Julie get close and then pulled her with her like a fish caught on the line.

Suddenly she was just outside the dining hall less than an hour before her challenge, and her ethereal form flew into Julie’s body. She could feel Julie falling right into her trap.

“Checkmate, piggy. It’s time to eat.”

Suggest Some Sequels for Fat Trimmings 22

Hello,

This is my most specific call for story suggestions yet. What I'm looking to do for "Fat Trimmings" Volume 22 is a few stories that are sequels to "Fat Trimmings" stories that I have already done. (Including at least one Thick Burger sequel.)

I'm hoping to do at least three stories, and would love to read people's suggestions if you have them. (I already have ideas for two stories in case people don't suggest things, but I don't want to say what they are right now because I'm curious to see if they'll come up in suggestions.)

Pitch away!

"Pigs in the Parfumerie aka Beauty Shop Blowup": An Exclusive Cut

New story, new title different from what I previously listed it as. This was a fun one to write.

Warning: This story contains heavy slob content. If that's not your thing, you will likely not care for this story. Have no fear, plenty of non-slob content is still coming this week.

Enjoy!

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Padget’s Parfumerie was a perfectly pleasant little store inside a local mall. While it specialized in perfumes of different kinds, Padget’s was also the purveyor of a full range of beauty essentials including lotions, oils, makeup and hair products galore. There were regular beauty workshops, and when customers came into the boutique they were treated to an experience as they were assisted by a variety of hard working, and knowledgeable salespeople.

Odette was one of those people. She was an excellent salesperson, knowledgeable and kind. She never tried to force a sale on people, and that made people want to buy from her all the more. In fact, of all the salespeople that worked as Padget’s, Odette was ranked third in terms and sales and first in terms of customer satisfaction.

Odette was also a larger girl with a big belly and a broad backside. She dressed stylishly and was incredibly confident in herself. She loved herself. Unfortunately, this love was not shared by the top two salespeople at Padget’s, Jane and Chloe. They were a pair of vain, vapid, skinny bitches who thought they owned the place and made it a point of flaunting their superiority. They especially hated Odette and her fatness.

Jane was a callous athletic bitch who looked like she could have been a sports illustrated swimsuit model. Chloe was a pompous posh British import who was a real glamor girl. They were prim and proper and catty as all hell. And to Odette they didn’t even bother being clever. They were just downright mean.

“You’re such a pig, Oinkette,” sneered Jane.

“Really, darling. I can’t understand how they let a chav like you work in a place like this. You’d be much better suited selling chips in the food court,” chimed in Chloe.

This was the way things normally were.

And then Covid-19 happened, and everyone learned a new normal.

Since Padget’s Parfumerie’s in-store offerings required people to be so close together inside, the store stayed closed during lockdown longer than most until it was eventually able to return with a few less staff members minus the ones who moved on to other jobs during the pandemic.

Odette, Jane and Chloe all returned. But the three couldn’t have been more different.

During the lockdown, Odette took to working out, not because she felt like she needed to lose weight but because she needed some kind of physical activity and didn’t have the patience for making sourdough. Instead she turned to exercise as a hobby and as a result she slimmed down considerably while maintaining some strong curves. She also brushed up on her craft with hours and hours of makeup tutorials and became more glamorous than ever.

And Jane and Chloe? Jane and Chloe turned to eating. They ate and ate and ate throughout the pandemic. With no social gatherings to go to, it seemed like all they could do was laze around and snack, drinking and eating till their hearts content. And lazing about in nothing but sweats made it easy to ignore the pounds that were piling on. 

But when they got back to work, the results showed. 

They hadn’t just gotten fat. Jane and Chloe were fat lazy slobs, completely piggish in every way. 

The first thing Odette noticed as Jane walked by wasn’t what she looked like, but what she smelt like.

Jane had a distinct odor about her, the kind of smell that seemed to suggest that she had been doing an awful lot of sweating lately. But it was also a stale smell of body odor that signaled that she hadn’t bothered showering that morning, or possibly even the day or two before, and had instead taken to smothering herself in perfume in an attempt to cover up her own unfortunate body odor but instead creating a far more pungent stench. She was red faced and sweaty as if she was rushing in late which may have accounted for the lack of showering. And her current perspiration was certainly adding to the layering of smells. But Odette could tell just by looking at Jane that the sweat that caused her intense body odor was unlikely to have been caused by exercise.

The formerly slim and trim salesgirl was now thoroughly flabby and out of shape. Her tomato red face was bloated as if she had been on a month long blender. Her formerly dainty features were lost amongst the fat that had gathered to replace them with sweaty jowls and a greasy, doughy double chin.

Jane was wearing professional attire that she had clearly outgrown quite a while ago but was too stubborn to relegate to the back of her closet in deference to the more plus-sized clothing that she so clearly needed. As such, her professional attire was no longer professional. Beyond being messy, Jane was also absolutely spilling out of all of it. Her blouse was untucked and covered in a large coffee stain as well of what looked to be a bit of jelly and a bit of cream suggesting that she had stuffed her face with at least two different donuts on her way to showing up late for work. This was further evident by the array of glaze and powder that was scattered on her top and stained her doughy face. Some of it clearly dripped into her slightly larger but much saggier cleavage. 

The buttons of her blouse were strained by the blubber of her belly, thick flab that oozed through the gaps that it made. The fat flowed around her middle and fought to free itself in whatever way it could. Therefore, it also expanded out over the waistband of her skirt and spilled out from under her blouse. Her pudgy pot belly sloshed about and was very eager to announce itself to anyone who walked by, and it was impossible not to notice her chunky muffin top.

The pencil skirt she was wearing was more of an extra thick tip marker at this point. Its shape was stretched out by the girth of her thunder thighs and the broken down shelf-like quality of her flabby blubber butt. The skirt was strained almost to its limit by the sheer mass that Jane was somehow still packing into it. In fact, Odette could see as Jane waddled past that the skirt was hastily synched together by not one but two heavy duty safety pins which Jane left there as if nobody would notice. In fairness, Odette almost didn’t notice the second one at first because the droop of Jane’s love handle had temporarily obscured it, but she doubted that that was what Jane was going for. 

The power jacket that went with the rest of the ensemble was missing, likely because Jane’s new bingo wings and fatter shoulder would have made stuffing herself into the sleeves impossible. What the lack of a jacket did do was make the yellowed sweat stains under Jane’s armpits extremely noticeable.

The winded and sweaty Jane clumsily went about her work, and Odette was filled to hear the snarky chatter of her co-workers and some of the regular customers at Jane’s expense.

“Did you see, Jane? She blew up.”

“Sure did, what a fat ass she turned into.”

“I’ll tell you I could smell her before I could see her, which is saying something because there’s so much more of her to see.”

“I agree. That fatty reeks! I don’t know how she’s so sweaty and smelly. It’s clearly not from exercising.”

“It’s her new signature scent, Eau de Piggy.”

“She’s a fat slob now, and it’s disgusting!”

“Oink! Oink!”

Odette was over the moon at the thought of Jane getting what she so rightly deserved, and her day was only getting better.

Jane was not the only new piggy in Padget’s Parfumerie. 

Chloe announced her return to the parfumerie with a preposterously loud burp. It was a wet, brassy belch that Odette could have sworn was loud enough to shake several glasses on display. And better than that slobbish display was the new figure that supported such a blast of gas. Chloe had gotten chubby! No. Chloe was chunky. No even better.

Chloe had gotten fat!

Whereas Jane’s blouse was at least trying to hold on for dear life, Chloe’s had clearly given up the ghost rather recently. The buttons of her blouse were completely undone and her blouse, beyond being untucked, was also completely open revealing a dirty tank top that was riding up her greasy gut, a flabby bag of flesh that was pour over the popped open front of her shorts. Odette had to believe that all of this button popping must have happened on the way over because she couldn’t conceive that even Chloe had the arrogance and ignorance needed to think she could pull this off as a look.

It would be too generous to call the sagging fat that hung in front of Chloe a pot belly. It was a full blown gut. And it was a mess! Just like Jane, Chloe had clearly been sweating up a storm, and her spongy gut had a clear sheen of sweat on it that was also splotching the bottom of her tank top. In fact, her tank top was quite the scene. It was covered in a variety of stains. Along with sweat, Odette could make out what looked like grease, coffee, ketchup and mustard.

Odette had assumed that Chole’s wardrobe malfunctions were the reasons for her lateness. But then she saw the extra large iced coffee and the double sausage, bacon egg and cheese sandwich that Chloe was carrying. The iced coffee was half empty and practically white from the amount of heavy cream with it. Chloe messily polished off the sandwich and delivered another even louder burp. The sandwich left behind a film of grease around her mouth and bits of egg and ketchup staining her cheeks and chest. Odette had know way of knowing this for sure, but deep down she was confident that this must have been Chloe’s second or third sandwich of the morning.

With her gluttonous gut sated for the moment, Chloe went waddling about her business and clumsily slammed her hip into the display counter. As she did so, she let out a tremendous fart to the shock and disgust of several customers walking near her.

“Bloody *bwaaaaap* ‘ell.” she muttered before continuing on her way, letting out a few more toots as if nothing was wrong.

The customers walked away laughing behind Chloe’s wide back, and as they passed, Odette had to stop and stare at the shabby condition of Chloe’s once perfect heart shaped ass.

That ass was now out of control. It was a blubbery mess, a pungent gas factory with two huge cheeks that were fighting to escape her shorts from all angles. Odette had no idea how Chloe managed to halfway squeeze herself into the shorts that she was incapable of buttoning. They were clearly fraying all over, and the legs were cinched hard enough to cause angry red marks on her thunder thighs.

And those thighs were quite thick indeed. They were fleshy, cellulite covered tubes of flab. Any sense of a tan that Chloe had worked hard to get was gone, replaced by pale, pasty, puddingy pudge. Her cottage cheese thighs slammed and rubbed together, wobbling as she waddled about no longer about to strut around. And that’s when Odette noticed that the shoes Chloe used to strut around in were gone. Chloe looked a good deal shorter in the ruddy flats she was wearing. Her feet must have swollen with fat - Odette could surmise as much based on the state of Chloe’s cankles, and Odette guessed that the heels probably broke under Chloe’s significant weight. Chloe had gained weight all over, but the largest portions of it went to her gut and to her butt. Her bulbous cheeks were also swelling up over the top of her shorts and giving her a prominent sweaty plumber’s crack. The tops of Chloe's chunky cheeks quivered as she let loose another bubbly fart.

And yet she didn’t seem to notice. Such was her arrogance that she stormed in over and hour late to her shift, feast in hand looking and smelling more like a fat hobo than a professional salesperson, a fuming gas factory who still waddled around like she owned the place.

She seemed clueless to the commentary that Odette was all too happy to listen in on.

“Chloe chunked up!”

“Chloe the cow!”

“She certainly passes gas like one. What a fume.”

“She’s a big fat gas factory.”

“FATTY FART FACTORY!”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead waddling around like her. What a mess! She’s such a fat, stinky, messy, disgusting slob!”

“Eww! Just eww! Just looking at her makes my skin crawl. She looks like she smells and she smells even worse!”

“Just look at that gut!”

“How could you not? It’s immense. Just like the rest of her.”

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

Jane and Chloe tried to go about their work as if nothing was different, as if they were still the queen bees of the shop and the best selling salespeople. They, of course, failed to realize how many customers were actively avoiding their presence. Being fat was one thing, but their slobbishness was something else entirely, and paying customers wanted nothing to do with the grubby, greasy girls hawking perfume while being so clearly in need of a shower.

That was Jane’s problem especially. Customers would quickly spin on their heels and practically run the other way once they got within the toxic miasma of Jane’s odor caused by her undershowering and overdosing on perfume. And when she tried to get really aggressive about , they recoiled at the greasy touch of her sausage fingers. Those who were the most bold in rejecting her did so with a poke to her fat belly and a few crude names paired with a lot of oinking and laughter.

Chloe didn’t fare any better. Although she somehow managed to catch a few potential customers who took pity on the portly pig, her sales all fell through because she couldn’t stop burping in the faces of her clients. And when they stormed off, Chloe would give chase, her waddling propelled along by her flatulence. Chloe’s lowest point came when she fully knocked over a makeup display. As she bent down to pick things up, her ass let loose another trumpeting fart and this was the last bit of strain that caused the back of her overtaxed shorts to burst open. She ripped more ass as she shot up straight, belly sloshing about, and used her chubby hands to cover the rip in her pants as best as she could which was well at all.

This time she couldn’t possibly escape hearing the comments.

“That she blows!”

“That wide rump can rip ass!”

“What a clumsy cow.”

“Look at that blubber butt. No wonder she has so much gas.”

“It’s her bloated belly that makes her gassy, you idiot.”

“Whatever, she’s got a lot of that too. Girl is o-BEAST! MOOOOOOO!”

After that display, Chloe and Jane were both fired. 

“This isn’t a barnyard! Get out of here you disgusting slobs. Go wallow somewhere else.”

Janes and Chloe waddled away in tears, probably to go eat their feelings in the food court. That was who they had become, fat greedy slobs. And they left Odette alone as the undisputed number one salesperson in Padget’s Parfumerie. Odette didn’t worry too much about Jane and Chloe after that. She figured they would land on their fat feet.

After all, she heard a Thick Burger was opening up in the food court. She was certain Jane and Chloe could get jobs there. They’d fit right in.

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 21

This is actually a good deal longer than I thought it would be, topping out at over 3,300 words for three stories. "This Belly" is pretty short, and I figured at least one of the other two would be shorter as well, but then I decided to do a sequel to my fattening notebook story from volume 20, and that and the Thick Burger story just really flowed.

Enjoy!

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“This Belly”

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When’d you get this belly? This is new, isn’t it? Looks like you’ve put on a little weight. Haven’t you, you? I mean. It’s obvious. You’ve got a belt now. Everyone can see that. It’s peeling out from under your t-shirt. You’ve got this cute little roll of belly fat coming out to say hello, a pasty pit of pudge where your precious abs used to be. 

You used to love showing off your abs, flashing them to people, rubbing your hands up and down them. You’ve always been such a braggart. And now what? You don’t want to show off this new belly of yours? I don’t think you have much choice. Judging by the way it’s sneaking out from under your shirt and spilling over your pants, I’d say it wants to be known.  

Oh! It’s so soft. Look at this thing. It’s like a squishy little sponge of fat. So fun to play with, to flip and pinch and jiggle. This is funny as hell. I love it, love your little belly pudge. I think it’s the cutest thing. 

Don’t you just love its little wobbly? I think my favorite part about your belly is the way it just does what it wants. Shirts be damned. It wants to be seen. You want to move one way, it wants to jiggle in another. It’s fun to watch your fat just sort of slosh around. I want to see more of it. 

Don’t you?

Come on. Be honest. 

I think it’s a good thing. It’s a sign that you’re happy, that you’re giving into indulgence and enjoying yourself. You’ve got the comfort of being able to eat as much as you want. You know, in the old days, being fat was a sign of wealth. Artists used to sculpt and paint fat women as the highest symbols of beauty. I miss those days very much. 

But they could be here again. 

All you have to do is keep giving in. Keep indulging. Embrace the belly. Let it grow. You can do that. Cant you? Let the fat fill you up the way your body has always wanted it. Let it wrap you in a soft cocoon of adipose. You’ll be so much safer in a nice pillowy cushion of fat, soft, squeezable, pliable fat. That’s the key. Wide hips, and thick thighs to go with a well padded ass. You have the potential for some killer curves. Just look at where that weight is landing already. 

I’ll even pay for all the new clothes once you outgrow these. Won’t that be fun? New look! New you! Bold and fat and sexy as hell. 

The belly is just a start. You’ll get a beautiful blubbery butt that’ll bounce up and down in time with your belly, two delightfully chunky cheeks, extra junk in the trunk, more cushion for the pushin. Won’t we have fun with that? Hours and hours of fun with that. 

And the food? The food will be the best. Anything you’ve ever wanted, anything you can think of, anytime at all, it can all be yours. 

That’s right. I can see the hunger in your eyes. I already know what your answer is. You’re going to eat whatever I give you. You’re going to give in to your desires. You’re going to get fatter.

This belly is only the beginning.

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“A Few Quick Notes”

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Asami stared at the notebook in her hands as she sat on the park bench. She wasn’t sure exactly why she felt the need to come to the park on this day, but it was like something inside her told her that the park was the ideal place to cause some troub- I mean mayhe- I mean fun. It was the best place to have some fun and definitely not do irreparable damage to innocent people. No. Anyone she used the notebook on would definitely deserve it just like her vain co-workers, and that lady who cut in front of her at the bakery this morning.

Asami had been waiting patiently, getting ready to order her usual double half-caf mochacocoachino with oatmilk and whipped cream and a double chocolate chip muffin when this skinny bitch full of pretty privilege cut in front of her and demanded to be served first. Well, that was something old Asami might have just let slide, but now, notebook wielding Asami certainly wasn’t going to stand for that.

“The woman who cut in front of me is going to gain fifty pounds in the next minute and only barely fit in her clothes. She will simply think she needs to be better about her dieting, but she is now addicted to muffins and chocolate and will come here every day and gain two hundred pounds over the next year.”

The woman’s frame began to widen as she took on a noticeably pear shape. Her thighs thickened and grew wide saddlebags, and her ass grew wide and dumpy as two blubbery cheeks filled her slack to near bursting. Instead of ripping they looked uncomfortably tight and incredibly unflattering now that her ass was so soft and saggy. They were stretched tight enough to reveal the dimples of cellulite that covered her chunky cheeks. Beyond her thickening ass and thighs, the woman also grew a noticeable muffin top that pushed her blouse up and poured over the waistband of her slacks. Her trim middle was now a prominent pot belly that jiggled as she took her much larger order and turned to walk- almost waddle but not quite- away.

By the time Asami was exiting with her order, the woman was working her way through the third of six muffins, and Asami was now looking forward to checking in on her new favorite regular from time to time.

Back at the park, Asami sucked down the last of her mochacocoachino and looked around for potential vic- people to change. As her eyes settled upon a group of vain looking joggers, two women and a man, she knew that they would be a perfect group to start with. 

She looked at their slim bodies, so sculpted. They were just showing off, making everyone else feel bad. Life must be so easy for them. The world would be much better off if they learned what it was like to exercise and yet never be able to lose those stubborn pounds, so she opened her notebook and began to write.

“As they run, each of these three will gain thirty pounds and will never be able to lose the weight no matter how much they work out.”

The next time the three joggers came back past Asami, they were no longer in-shape hardbodies. Instead they were sucking air and looking much chubbier. Rather than looking like the kind of people that run every day, they looked like a bunch of couch potatoes struggling through a New Year’s revolution. They looked like sweaty, out of shape tubbos. They were all lucky to be wearing athletic wear because otherwise they would have split their clothes instead of just spilling out of them.

One of the women had a big muffin top with a ridiculously jiggly pot belly that shook wildly with every step. It was a chunky, sloshing mess pair with thick wobbling love handles. While she had clearly gained weight all over (her thighs were quite wobbly), it was her belly and her breasts that bore the brunt of her weight gain. Her breasts were heavy and strained her sports bra which gave them little support and left them heaving to and fro and causing her to noticeably slow down to readjust herself on multiple occasions.

The man looked equally unsupported as the thirty pounds of fat he had gained went predominant to his torso. Unfortunately for him, he had been showing off his shredded body by running shirtless, and now he was rocking a pretty flabby dad bod complete with an ex-jock style beer belly and an outrageous set of man boobs that flopped in the breeze. Asami could see that his face was as red as a tomato, and she assumed that half of it was from being exhausted and the other half of it was humiliation from feeling like a pathetic jiggling fat boy with his moobies out for all to gawk at.

The second woman was a much more bottom heavy affair. Her thighs took the brunt of her weight gain. While she also had a jiggly muffin top, the most noticeable thing about her were the way that her thunder thighs slapped together as she ran. The flabby thighs quivered and smacked and rubbed together and looked like she was well on her way to becoming a waddler. As the trio passed, Asami watched as the second woman bounced. She had developed quite a flabby blubber butt that was spilling out of her ill-fitting shorts, and her tubby thighs were covered in cellulite.

The trio of formerly fit individuals were now cursed with finding out what it was like to be a normal out of shape member of society forever chasing the stereotypical ideal of thinness. This thought made Asami chuckle.

It also made another woman laugh out loud. Another skinny bitch, fresh off getting a hotdog from a vendor, laughed at the trio as they went by and made some unflattering oinking noises. Asami decided that this would never do.

“The woman with the hotdog will gain two hundred and fifty pounds within the next minute and will be spilling out of her clothes. (Asami didn’t want her clothes to blow and cause too much of a scene.) When she goes to the doctor, they will simply diagnose her with a sudden glandular condition. She will never lose the weight no matter how hard she diets and exercises, but she will also have no other medical problems. (Asami wanted her to live a long time at this new weight.)”

As the vain woman took a bite of her hotdog, she was suddenly struck with an unexplainable but panic inducing feeling. It started as a faint tingling at the tips of her fingers and toes, a sensation that quickly spread throughout her body like wildfire.

Before she could even begin to comprehend what was happening, the woman felt herself swelling up like a balloon, her once-slender frame expanding before her eyes as if possessed by some unseen force. It was like someone had a pump and was inflating her, but instead of air it was jiggling fat. With each passing second, she grew larger and larger, her clothes straining at the seams as they struggled to contain her ballooning form.

She was no longer laughing now as her  arms and legs swelled to twice their normal size. She developed hefty wobbling bingo wings and tree trunk like thunder thighs that shook as the rest of her Her once-flat stomach bulged outwards, rounding and softening with each passing moment as layer upon layer of fat piled on top of one another. It filled out and sagged down as it became a massive spare tire that spilled out from under her shirt and over the waistband of her pants. It fought gravity for as long as it could until it couldn’t anymore and started to sage toward her fat knees.

But perhaps the most shocking transformation of all was the change that took place in the vain woman’s face. Once angular and sculpted, it now swelled and distorted beyond recognition, her features disappearing beneath the layers of fat that continued to accumulate with alarming speed. She developed a doughy double chin and then a third as her cheeks turned to jiggling jowls.

As onlookers stared in disbelief, the woman continued to balloon outwards, her once-slender figure now swollen and bloated beyond all recognition. In the span of just one minute, she had gained the full, staggering, two hundred and fifty pounds, her body transformed into a grotesque parody of its former self. 

As the woman stood there, her newfound bulk swaying unsteadily with each labored breath, she struggled to think about what to do next now that she was an overinflated caricature of her former self. In a panic, she waddled off as fast as her fat legs would carry her. She was determined to make it to a doctor and figure out what the hell was wrong with her. Remarkably, she didn’t have to stop every few feet to catch her breath as she was afraid she would have to do.

Asami nodded at her latest piece of work, closed the notebook and headed off to another part of the park to find some more people to toy with.

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“Trained on Thick Burger”

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Amber was a personal trainer with a wicked little secret.

She loved the idea of making people fat.

Amber loved the idea of turning fit people into fatties specifically. 

Her job theoretically often required her to help people lose weight, and she did. She enjoyed pushing her fat clients super hard, making them struggle, especially when inevitably compared to her own physical fitness. Amber loved to show off during training sessions. Most of them didn’t complain because Amber’s harsh measures got them results. But what Amber loved even more than pushing fatties hard to lose weight was watching them yo-yo back up when she eased off. She loved those “I told you so” moments and the amount of control that gave her.

What she loved most was messing with her thinner clients, the vainer the better. She would encourage them to drink too much protein shake and give them workouts that seemed effective but weren’t. Then, when they inevitably gained weight instead, she’d chastise them for what they must be doing outside the gym and highlight their new problem areas in humiliating fashion.

Amber dreamed about making vain, fit hotties like herself into fat pigs and humiliating them. The thought of turning prom queen, head cheerleader types into pigs excited her to know end, and whenever she had the opportunity to send someone thin down the path to becoming a fatty, she took it.

And she was most excited about fattening up her latest project, her girlfriend.

Kara had been Amber’s girlfriend for going on two years now. She was a twenty-seven year old accountant with quite the figure. The two had met in the gym, not as client and trainer but as mutual fitness aficionados with an immediate attraction to each other’s bodies. Kara had been exactly what Amber was looking for, head cheerleader, prom queen, sorority president, and vain as all hell. She had even done some part-time modeling work when she first graduated college. Despite transitioning to an office job full-time, Kara had managed to maintain her slim and sexy figure. 

After two years together, Amber was determined to change that. 

That’s where Thick Burger came in. They had just opened a new location near the gym, and Amber was already well aware of the effects it was having on her clients. It was the kind of place that left Amber feeling like she would be rolling in dough thanks to her new doughier clients struggling to fight off the gains from their Thick Burgers feasts, fighting losing battles for the most part. She was eager to use this to shape her vain girlfriend into her ideal big fat fantasy.

It all started with a lunch date between sessions that Amber had with clients. Then it was an after work dinner date, then brunch on the weekend. Soon, Thick Burger became a regular part of their rotation, and shortly after that it became their most popular spot. From the first bite it was clear that such a thing was an inevitability. Kara moaned at the first greasy bite of her first ever Thick Burger burger. As grease dribbled down her chin, she was onto her second bite before she even swallowed her first. She practically inhaled her burger, and this became a regular habit of hers. Kara also became hopelessly addicted to both the sweet potato tots and the onion rings, and when she could no longer decide between the two, she started ordering both with a side of fries.

Eventually, Kara’s fit figure gave in to the fattening. The calories in became far more than the calories out, and the pounds started to pile on. Given Kara’s sedentary office job, it was not surprising that most of those pounds found her way to her lower half, turning Kara’s sculpted rear end into a blobby, blubber mess and giving her a thick pair of thunder thighs. As Kara became a fatty, her ass grew wider and wider. With the musculature that she lost as the greasy meals left her too lethargic to workout, her blubber butt became increasingly soft and saggy. Her lean legs got delicious thunder thighs that smacked and rubbed together, and her entire body grew layers of softness that jiggled even as she did something as simple as eat.

And she ate a lot.

Thick Burger trained her stomach well, and in response to that training, her stomach became a bulging belly, a greedy gut filled with food and fat all the time. Kara became a true glutton in every sense of the word, and it wasn’t long at all before the previously vain and outgoing woman full of ambition was an average obese office worker content with her midlevel job that paid her growing food bills. Her life outside of work used to be full of social activities. But as her fit friends teased and eventually abandoned her, Kara’s life outside of work became about sleeping and eating, lots and lots of eating. The only physical activities she engaged in anymore were with her girlfriend.

Amber loved Kara’s growing curves. She also loved to taunt her precious pet piggy as she gradually became even more pathetically helpless. There was an incredible sense of power that Amber felt, a power that went to her head… and her waistline.

What Amber didn’t realize, as she was feeding Kara, was just how much she was consuming herself. And since the greasy lunches left her lethargic she stopped regularly showing off for her later clients and ended up cutting a lot of her own regular workouts which meant that her calories out was collapsing. This led to weight gain. At first, Amber tried to shrug it off. She ensured herself that it was all for the greater good. She could afford to put a few pounds on herself if it meant really packing them onto Kara. And she was certain that, as a dedicated athlete her entire life, any pounds that she put on could be easily shed.

She was wrong. And her miscalculation was a very fattening mistake. Amber soon grew a very big belly. Her abs turned into flab that constantly bulged over the waistband of her pants and oozed out from under her shirts. She had a mighty muffin top that replaced her previous trim waist. Amber became absolutely apple shaped. While she also grew thunder thighs and a soft, blubbery butt, the majority of her weight gain settled around her greedy gut and her heavy, sagging breasts, another change that made working out even more difficult. Less workouts more pounds.

Eventually, the porky personal trainer found herself out of a job. It turns out that a lot of her clients weren’t exactly keen to take fitness advice from a fatty who was getting fatter by the day. Amber found the whole thing humiliating. Before she was ultimately let go, she was subject to a string of humiliations from clients who enjoyed how the tables had turned to bosses and colleagues who berated her for turning into a pig. With her head hung low, and her double chin wobbling, Amber eventually waddled out of the gym never to return.

Instead, she waddled across the street and got a brand new job as a proud and pudgy Thick Burger employee. It was an easy gig that she was more than qualified for, and, most importantly, it came with a great employee discount that Amber was eager to take full advantage of. After all, she may have gotten fat.

But she could make sure that Kara stayed fatter.

"Princess to Pig": A Patreon Exclusive Cut

The results of my patreon poll about delivery preference for these exclusive cut stories is in, and people's preference is that they have no preference. The second choice was to release them individually and then as a collection, and for this volume that is what I'm going to do. Since this volume is 8 stories long, I think it will work best if I release them as I go, and I hope to have them all done by next week.

Here is the first story from this volume of Exclusive Cuts based on the theme of role reversal voted on and suggested by patrons like you.

Enjoy!

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“Princess to Pig”

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Princess Everly was the envy of all. She was far more than a pretty princess. She was the most beautiful woman in the entire kingdom of Tribania. Everyone worshiped her, especially for her beauty. And Princess Everly knew this. It’s what made her so arrogant and cruel.

She regularly treated all of those beneath her with disdain, and any servants she was given by her father, who was a rather careless king who much preferred giving in to his daughter’s every whim than treating his subjects fairly and ruling competently, were subjected to her capricious whims and a thousand little taunts and fancies.

The princess, beyond being incredibly vain, was also remarkably greedy, and that greed presented itself in an unexpected amount of gluttony. Princess Everly loved to feast. She loved to stuff her face. What she didn’t love was the effect that all of that was starting to have on her slim figure. When she began to strain her girdles, she yelled at her father to find her some kind of fix.

And that’s when the King found Fastrella.

Fastrella was a witch with two fully grown tubby daughters, dowdy girls named Tressa and Wenna. For a price to be named later, Fastrella tied her daughters to Princess Everly, not just as daughters but with a powerful curse. No matter what Princess Everly ate, she would never get fat. Instead, all of the excess calories would be split amongst her new handmaidens, Tressa and Wenna.

Princess Everly was thrilled to have her figure back the way she liked it, and she loved to torment her poor handmaidens. She enjoyed calling them names and making them do various humiliating tasks. She especially enjoyed feasting in front of them and slowly watching their waistlines expand. The princess called them her own personal pigs.

All the while, Fastrella bided her time.

One day, the king died under circumstances that no one would say.

And on that day, Fastrella claimed the price that was rightfully hers, the entire kingdom. And with that kingdom came the Princess Everly.

Taken in the night and wearing nothing but her delicate nightgown. Princess Everly was brought to the top of the tallest tower where Fastrella and her now quite fat daughters were eagerly waiting.

“You’ve been a pompous, greedy pig for too long, princess. And now it’s time for you to reap what you have sown.”

Fastrella’s magic pinned Princess Everly to a chair, and her daughters began to stuff the Princess with cake. Despite her groans of protest, Tressa and Wenna would not halt in their task and continued to stuff the princess even as frosting covered her face and crumbs fell into her cleavage. 

All the while, Fastrella watched and laughed and prepared to put her real plan into action.

“Do you enjoy the cake? It is a toast to my new kingdom and to your downfall. But, alas, I suppose it’s destined to spend a moment on your lips and then a lifetime on their hips, isn’t it? We should change all of that.”

Everly felt a sudden tingling in her fingers and toes. She looked at her hands and flexed them, and as she did so they looked subtly different. She flexed them again and her eyes went wide as she realized that she wasn’t seeing things. Her hands were getting bigger. She blinked and they were bigger still. It wasn’t like her hands were turning into cartoon mitts, but having grown so used to having slim and delicate hands suited for playing piano and holding precious crystal, made her keenly aware that her hands were becoming distinctly chubby. When she looked down at her feet, she realized that they were swelling with fat as well. Soon her delicate digits had transformed into tiny sausages.

“Quite a fitting start don’t you think?” Fastrella chuckled as she played with Everly’s feet.

“This little piggy had roast beef. This little had none. This little piggy went wee wee wee and got really, really fat!”

And right on cue, the fat began to spread. It started in her hands and feet but soon began to fill her arms and legs as the fat worked its way toward the center of her body. Along the way, her ankles swelled until they met with her calves, and then her cankles continued to grow together. The fat kept flowing and her lean, limber legs became chubby and then downright fat. She was soon sitting with legs that were awkwardly pushed up because of all the fat filling her thunder thighs. It was like someone had a cinched off her legs from the rest of the body and for a moment the fat just stopped right there so that her still tight ass was lower than knees.

Everly’s wrists swelled with fat just like her ankles did. Her arms grew wobbling bingo wings, and the fat of her pillowy arms grew so much that it started to dimple and roll over her elbows. Just like with her legs, the fat seemed to stop right as it reached her shoulders. This created a surreal moment where Everly had the legs and arms of a tremendously obese woman but the rest of her was still trim and tiny.

It held that way for just a moment before the fat continued its invasion.

The fat began to fill Everly’s stomach, robbing her of her ab and causing her trim waist to bow outward with her love handles. She soon looked like a big expanding barrel and then a misshapen one as her gut grew faster in front than the fat on her sides. It was not long before the thin fabric of her nightgown gave way, tearing and allowing her turgid tummy to surge forward, a big sack of fat filling her lap. The shreds of the nightgown draped the sides like a pulled back curtain highlighting the spare tire sitting on display as a result of this piggish play. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, and the two handmaidens could help but eagerly run their hands up and down the fleshy mass, hands that Everly noted were getting thinner.

Princess Everly soon found herself rising in her seat, not because she had suddenly found herself with the power to stand on her own, but because her previously pert ass cheeks were rising like dough. Her ass grew thick with plush fat, pumped full of blubber that propelled her upward in her seat even as the fat spread outward as well. She couldn’t see it, but there was another subtle shift to her sizable ass cheeks. As the chunky cheeks filled with fat, they also became covered in cellulite marring her once perfect skin. Her well cushioned rear end eventually grew enough to fill up the entirety of the chair and lifted her up to once again be even with her fat and flabby legs.

Up top, Princess Everly’s shoulder grew plump with fat, and the felt the fat fill even her back as it folded over in thick, juicy rolls. Her breasts quivered as they lost their perkiness and began to sag. They were stretched out by the fat that filled them and left to rest on the shelf that was her now massive belly. Whatever new size they had gained was nothing compared to the girth of her gut which dominated her fatter figure. Her breasts sat much sadder and fatter than she would have liked, covered in stretch marks and looking like large deflated balloons as they slapped themselves onto her gelatinous gut and caused her whole body to tremble once again.

Everly felt her neck tense as the fat squeezed its way up into it. She felt her face go flush as her cheeks became chubby, and the fat that came sliding up her neck eventually hung down again in the form of a new double chin, doughy and wobbling as the rest of her face continued to fill out. Her cheek bones were lost to the pudge that formed her jiggly jowls. Her fat neck became obscured by a multitude of twins. The fat that filled her now round face even made her eyes seem smaller.

And, as a cruel final touch, Princess Everly watched Fastrella produce a hand mirror from thin air so that Everly could witness her own nose fill out with fat and twist upward so that it came to look far more like a pig snout. As Everly’s labored breath intensified, she began to snort like a pig which caused Fastrella and her daughters to cackle with delight.

Tressa and Wenna continued to poke, prod, pinch and jiggle Everly’s bountiful blubber all while swimming in their handmaiden dresses that no longer fit their still curvy but far more slender forms. They laughed with glee as they taunted Princess Everly.

“Who’s the fatty now?”

“Look at this hog.”

“Oink, oink, Piggy!”

“What a big fat Fatso you are. Look at this gut!”

“Every part of you is so soft and jiggly.”

“Wobble one part and it all shakes like jello.”

“You cow!”

“You whale!”

With a snap of her fingers, Fastrella got her daughters’ attention. Then, with another wave of her hand and a few muttered words, Everly was pulled from her chair and dressed in the rags of a common household servant. They barely fit her bulbous body. Meanwhile, Tressa and Wenna were clothed in the finery of a princess, their fine clothes hugged their new glorious curves.

“Your days of being a princess, my spoiled pig, are at an end. And here is how things shall go forever more.”

And from that day forward, just as Fastrella had proclaimed, Everly became permanently known as Piggy and was reduced to nothing more than a servant girl to the new queen and her daughters, the new princesses. When she wasn’t serving their needs, she was sent to do the most demeaning work possible, like scrubbing floors and cleaning latrines and the stables.

And every day Everly’s tasks grew harder because, every day, Everly grew fatter. Piggy kept piling on the pounds because, along with her own incredible appetite, she found herself on the other end of the curse that had once been placed on Tressa and Wenna. Now whenever the ate, the excess calories would go to Everly so that they may keep their shape as the greedy princess once had. And they loved to feast just to fatten their favorite new servant. 

Worst of all, Everly knew that her days as a servant girl were numbered. She kept growing fatter, her movements were growing slower, and soon, she wouldn’t be able to perform her duties anymore. And when that day arrived she knew what would be waiting for her.

There would be a sty just for her where she would live out the rest of her days as Fastrella’s prized pet pig.

"Nightmare Pigs" Chapter 6

We've reached the penultimate and climactic chapter of Nightmare Pigs where the queen bee and chief bully Jennifer Russel gets what she deserves. I ended up shooting way over target on this one, and it came out over 6,000 words.

Without further ado...

Enjoy!

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Jennifer Russel hated fat people and loved herself. She reaffirmed that every time she looked in a mirror and checked her perfect reflection, something she was constantly doing. She loved to lift up her shirt and run her hand up and down her perfect abs. She loved to press her hands against her perfect breasts. They were of the size that made them drive people wild while not being so large as to be heavy and saggy. Jennifer also loved to look down at her long lean legs and the perfect perky ass that paired so well with her perfect perky breasts.

She was everything everyone should strive to be. Jennifer was certain of that. She knew that she had everything society said she should have. Jennifer was a wealthy woman, a prim and proper girl with a taste for glamor and the beauty to pull it off. It was only right that everyone else should be jealous of her, and it was only right that she should get to lord it all over them. Her body and her drive had earned her her power and everyone else her scorn. If people couldn’t keep up with her, it was because they were fat and lazy. She was a natural born leader, a natural winner, and everyone else was either an obstacle or a tool in her continued success.

Jennifer polished her trophies on a regular basis. It was a ritual over hers. She kept them all laid out and cleaned them meticulously. And there was a lot to clean. She had trophies for track, swimming, and cheerleading. There were plaques for academic competitions and recognition of student government positions. There were her crowns from Homecoming, Prom, and Spring fling. There were any number of citations she had received that all required dusting and reflecting on. She loved reflecting on her trophies, one because they were a constant reminder of her own success, and two, because she loved polishing them to a point where she could use them as another means of admiring her own reflection.

As she polished her trophies and set them down, she found herself surrounded by five more trophies, life-sized, posed and standing each on their own round platform like perfect statues. They were what, to an outsider observer, one might call Jennifer’s friends. But Jennifer knew the truth. She didn’t collect useless junk. She only collected useful things, and these people weren’t friends. They were means to an end.

Cynthia Sinclair was a beautiful looking person, not as gorgeous as Jennifer of course, but certainly very pretty. It was good to have Cynthia in her friend group for a number of reasons. As the leader of the group, Jennifer was more easily able to keep herself more visible than Cynthia when need be, eliminating her as any kind of social competition. Being the prettiest of a group of pretty friends made Jennifer look that much more impressive, and Cynthia was a generally bright and bubbly person which provided for moments of genuine amusement in its own right.

What was even more amusing however, was Cynthia’s ability to turn on a dime and be extremely cutting. It often caught people off guard and made them feel that much worse. It’s what made Cynthia the perfect attack dog. Whenever there was somebody that Jennifer needed cutdown to size (and she didn’t want to get her own hands dirty), Cynthia was there, the perfect weapon to wield against her enemies.

She wasn’t the only weapon she had of course. Bethany Richardson was an equally pretty bit of poison. Clever and confident in her own right, Bethany made for an excellent second in command, always in service to her queen but independent enough to make the right moves without having to be told what those were. Bethany also came with connections through her father. There was a lot of value to mine in their post college. It’s always beneficial to be friends with rich people and lawyers, and Bethany’s father was both. 

In addition, just like with Cynthia, subjugating Bethany was the easiest way to remove her as competition, make her feel safe in second place, and she wouldn’t challenge for the crown. Jennifer didn’t have any illusions that this would always be the case. She knew that Bethany was quite possibly a Judas in waiting. That’s where Diana Pendelton came in.

Good old mousey Diana Pendelton, the consummate suckup, she was a snake who thought herself far more clever than she actually was, and she was always underfoot ready to be crushed when the moment called for it. Her real purpose was to keep Bethany happy, to make Bethany feel more powerful, like she had chosen and actually created something worthwhile. Jennifer was quite confident that, if she needed to, she could take Diana away from Bethany and turn her into a tool or plaything of her own, but for now it served her interest to keep Bethany distracted and comfortable. That also allowed Jennifer to focus on a project of her own.

Jennifer admired Em, formerly the drab and dorkish Mildred. More specifically, she admired all of the hard work that had gone into crafting Em into what she was. She was Jennifer’s own personal Eliza Doolittle, the Galatea to her Pygmalion. Mildred had been a dowdy lump of clay, and Jennifer had turned her into her personal masterpiece. It was a true display of her skill and power for all to see, and it reminded her of when she used to play with blocks as a child. Jennifer loved building incredibly elaborate structures, beautiful things. 

And then she had even more fun tearing them down. She looked forward to doing that with Em, to returning her to the dirt.

And speaking of dirt.

That brought her to the final trophy in her case, not one someone would mistake for a friend at all, but someone too weak to be considered a true enemy. Still, Marjorie Smith was an important part of her collection.

Marjorie Smith was the perfect fat, lazy, dumpy loser. She was a big fat stress ball. Bored? Torment Marjorie. Angry? Take it out on Marjorie. Happy? Celebrate by torturing Marjorie. Large Marge was always good for a laugh. She was Jennifer’s favorite perennial punching bag, and when it wasn’t her throwing the punches, it was her minions. Even then, it could be almost as fun to just sit back and watch that fat loser take punishment. Large Marge was just so damn versatile and it’s what made her so val-

Before Jennifer could finish that thought, Marjorie was gone, and the pedestal she was standing on was empty. All that was left behind by Jennifer’s favorite trophy was the shadow the large girl had cast.

Then suddenly that shadow began to shift, to coil upward and take form into a tall woman with long purple hair and elongated limbs ending in horrifying claws.

“You bitch,” spat the monster.

“You absolute miserable bitch.”

Her mouth twisted into a sinister grin as she let out a low exasperated laugh.

“I am so glad I saved you for last. I’m going to enjoy this one the most.”

“W-who are you?” stammered Jennifer, her confidence shaken for the first time that she could remember.

“I’m your reckoning.”

Jennifer tried to run but found herself frozen in place just like a statue.

“It’s quite the collection you’ve amassed for yourself. I’m sure you’re quite proud of it. Would you like me to show you what I’ve done to them?”

Jennifer felt her head turning as she was forced to look at what this witch had done to her precious trophies, her prized collection.

Where Cynthia stood was a grotesquely fat version of the woman that Jennifer knew. She looked at this obese hog, this sweaty piggish mess, tressed up in some kind of goth fiasco and couldn’t believe it was her. But then she felt a burning ball of ice in the pit of her stomach that told her that this was indeed Cynthia, even if the plaque on the platform she was standing on now read “Syn”. This version of Cynthia was a bloated mess with a pale gelatinous gut where her tanned abs used to be, and outrageously thick thunder thighs with fat oozing through the holes in her worn out fishnets. It was an absolute travesty of an outfit that this tragedy of a fat woman was crammed into. 

Cynthia now looked thoroughly piggish with a fat face and pale skin that seemed to be covered in grease. Jennifer could tell from where she was standing that the formerly prim and proper Cynthia probably smelt of bacon grease and body odor. She didn’t want to think of the state of Cynthia’s blubbery ass crammed into some too tight leather shorts that must have been causing her to sweat something fierce giving her a rather swampy quality.

Jennifer would have shivered if her body could move at all. Instead, the only part of her to move was her head as it was forced to turn and look at what had become of Bethany Richardson. 

Prim and proper Bethany, known for perfectly pressed pink powersuits now looked like a big fat slob perfectly at home at one of those new age hippie communes. She looked like an absolute cow in a sundress that should have been flattering but was anything but stretched across her enormous frame. The dress itself was covered in sweat and food stains, and even from where she was standing Jennifer could actually get a good whiff of Bethany. That’s how strong her odor was. She reeked of BO and marijuana. Gone was the slim and sexy professional girl, replaced by this crunchy chunker, this sloppy foul smelling stoner.

Bethany’s gut was outrageously big and outlined by the ill-fitting sundress. It pulled tight across Bethany’s flabby ass cheeks, and as the platform that Bethany was on began to turn almost to give Jennifer a better look at the horror show, she could see the deep sweatmark that ran down the back of Bethany’s once perky butt now transformed into a flabby, swampy ass. That blubber butt clearly reeked, and as Jennifer thought about that she heard and sudden-

PPPPPPRRRRRRRRFFFFFFPPPPPBBHHHTTTTT!!!!!!

As Bethany, even while frozen let out a tremendous, trumpeting fart.

Jennifer should have staggered backward in surprise; she would have at least wrinkled her nose in disgust at the repugnant but she still could not move. She could do nothing to avoid what was happening. All she could do was drink it all in, all the sights, sounds, and horrible smells.

Soon her head was turned again, this time towards Diana Pendelton.

The Diana Pendelton Jennifer knew was a bit mousy but well put together and smart looking this one….

She looked like a fat dumbass tramp!

Dressed in a pink tube top of all things that left her big belly completely exposed and a frilly pink skirt that was a borderline tutu, Diana’s hair was blownout just like the rest of her bloated body. It was streaked with pink and blue cotton candy bright highlights that matched the outrageously heavy eye makeup that she was already wearing on her otherwise pale and greasy face. She looked like a tawdry circus clown!

The bright pink outfit was a perfect fit thematically, if not literally since Diana was spilling out of it. Diana looked like an absolute pig! She had sweaty, saggy cleavage spilling out of her top, the tops of her breasts were tarted up with make up and covered in crumbs and stained with sauce. She had acne on her saggy tits that even caked in makeup was visible and matched the equally caked over acne on her big fat face. And those saggy, stretch marked breasts, though certainly larger that Diana’s breasts used to be, were dwarfed by her big apron of a belly that hung over her skirt. It was a flabby greasy gut adorned with stretch marks of its own and paired with thick love handles that completed her plump muffin top.

Just like the others she also had tremendously thick thunder thighs and a blubbery butt that belched out a big wet fart followed by a long, squeaking whining one. It was awful. It was almost too much to handle.

And then Jennifer was turned toward Em.

Her masterpiece, all of her handiwork now stood before her horribly misshapen and worse than she ever was before. Her plaque read “Mildred aka the Artist Formerly Known as Em”.

The monstrous Mildred was a mound of fat, a great big bloated ball of blubber, a ponderously large pig. To say that Mildred was fat didn’t do her justice. She was a tremendous blob of fat with a double belly that spilled out and under her stretched out, sweat and food stained Star Wars t-shirt. It was a gut full of jello, a sagging spare tire that Jennifer knew would require Mildred to spread her legs if she were sitting down. And spreading those legs would be quite the challenge with the incredible amount of fat that was filling her tree trunk thighs.

She had marshmallow arms with fat dripping over her elbows. Her bingo wings stretched out the sleeves of her shirt, and Jennifer could see large damp patches of sweat under Mildred’s armpits. Mildred’s face was also outrageously fat with jowls and multiple chins all of which were dotted with acne and covered with an oily sheen. 

“They’re truly something now, aren’t they? I’m pretty proud of my collection, and now it’s time for you to join them.”

In a blink, Jennifer found herself suddenly standing on a pedestal of her own in line with the others. While she could not move her legs to run away, she felt herself back in control of the rest of her body and able to better take in what was happening.

The first thing that she noticed was that she couldn’t see her feet.

Jennifer’s feet were obscured by the sagging mass of flesh that was her enormous spare tire of a stomach. It was both a tremendous shelf for her sagging breasts and a large apron of fat sagging down toward her knees. Her gargantuan gut also made her aware of the size of her now extremely fat and flabby arms as she reached down with chubby hands to scoop the fat up and fully take in its extreme heft. 

It was a heavy sack of fat, like an immense sandbag but soft like it was full of jello. Her gut was even heavier to lift, Jennifer surmised, because of the lack of muscles in her once toned arms. Her flabby bingo wings wobble in tandem with her large belly as she shook her gut up and down as a test of its immense weight. Jennifer’s chubby fingers pinched her flesh as means of testing the terrifying truth that this was all her, she really was this tremendously fat.

Jennifer could feel the soft, billowy fat on her legs, not with her hands (which were still preoccupied pinching and rolling around her belly fat), but because her thighs were immense enough to be pressing against each other and forcing herself into a wider fat girl stance. She knew from the sensation that they were thick thunder thighs that were clammy from sweat. And though she couldn’t see the cellulite, she knew that it must be there. She could not further inspect her mighty thunder thighs though because her massive apron of belly fat stubbornly stayed in the way no matter how much she worked to move it. It was just too large to give her any sort of angle on what the lower half of herself looked like without the aid of a mirror.

What she could do however, was turn her head around enough to survey the sorry state of her titanic ass. What was previously pert and perky was now sloppy, shelf-like, and saggy. Two full moons stared back up at her along the top of her ass crack. The fact that she could make out this must detail just from turning her head was a testament to the sheer size of her saggy bum and how much it stuck out behind her. The sagging quality of it she could tell by the sensation of her flabby cheeks pressing up against the back of her fatty thighs. The other thing she could tell by angling her head was the disgusting smell that was emanating from within her enormous and odorous ass cheeks. A good whiff of her own foul stench sent her head whipping back around.

And, although she couldn’t see it, she could feel her fat cheeks and double chin wobble as she did so.

“Oh my, you can’t really see yourself properly, can you? Let me help you really appreciate my handiwork.”

Once a mirror was conjured up, Jennifer let out a blood curdling scream at the sight of what had become of her beautiful face.

Her face was round and droopy. Her cheeks were puffed up, rosy jowls, and she had at least three chins depending on the angle her head was at. Jennifer’s face was beyond simply fat. It was also incredibly oily and covered in acne that spread out in bright red patches with large angry white heads standing out amongst the rest. The bright acne and the constant flushness of her chubby cheeks made her look permanently pink and piggish. 

Jennifer began to hyperventilate which had her large sagging breasts sloshing about as her chest rose up and down.

“I guess it is pretty terrifying, isn’t it?” laughed Scarlet, her tone dripping with malice.

The mirror gave Jennifer a better sense of what she actually looked like overall although it was cruelly too narrow to get her entire fat body into frame. The good news was that she could finally see her feet. The bad news was that those feet were red and swollen with fat and were at the end of legs so fat that she had thigh fat dripping over her knees and a swollen set of cankles.

“I could leave you just like this, you know. It takes a lot of power to do what I do, and it’s been a long night. But for you…. No. This would be too quick. Too easy.”

With a snap of her elongated fingers, Jennifer was back to her normal slim and toned self. She breathed a momentary sigh of relief, but that breath caught in her throat when she found herself trapped by Scarlet’s steely gaze.

“You’re the worst kind of person, the kind of person who has every single thing in their life already ready to be handed to them. You are privilege incarnate. You were born into money. Your looks were given to you through genetics. Your metabolism is a gift you’ve never deserved. Everything about you is so stereotypically perfect, but not from anything you’ve done. So what have you done? What have you chosen to do with all of these gifts?”

Scarlet disdainfully ran her fingers along Jennifer’s abs. It almost tickled, and Jennifer might have laughed if she wasn’t so paralyzed by fear.

“You’ve chosen to lord them over others, to flaunt them and use them as weapons to hoard more privilege and prestige. The truth is you’ve had things too easy your entire life, and instead of taking the time to understand that and be thankful for it. You’ve just grown bored, so you’ve turned everyone else into a plaything for your amusement.”

“See, the others I can get. Poor Mildred really was such a good girl before you sunk your claws into her. Her and Marjorie were so close. So close. And Diana, I understand her desire to not be crushed by you. Both of them are like that. They did what they had to do because the world is cruel, so you made them crueler.”

“Unfortunately for them, I’m the cruelest.”

Scarlet floated around Jennifer, twisting her shadowy body like a snake encircling its latest meal.

“Cynthia was a sycophant. I get that too. It’s easy to just latch yourself onto successful people especially when your other option is getting left behind. And Bethany was always driven. She was always filled with hunger… well a different kind than the one I left her with. You provided the opportunity for advancement and she took it. But you…”

Scarlet pressed the palms of both hands against Jennifer’s head and leaned forward until her shark-like teeth were inches from Jennifer’s nose.

“You’re just you. You don’t worry about reaching the peak because you know you’re already there, and your biggest thrill is just sitting on your throne and playing puppet master.”

“Well, it’s my turn now,” she said with a gentle pat on Jennifer’s head.

From the shadows burst forth a set of ethereal strings binding themselves to points on Jennifer’s body and pulling her around like a marionette as Scarlet sang a jaunty mocking tune.

“I’ve got no strings to hold me down, to make me fret or make me frown. I had strings, but now I’m free. There are no strings on me.”

Scarlet laughed as Jennifer was forcibly swayed from side to side. The fat trophies all turned to look at the new marionette.

“I was out of the game for a long long time, and look at what you made me fucking do!”

Then the lights went out and it was just Scarlet and Jennifer again.

“But here we are. So now we play my game.”

Scarlet spun around and slowly twisted her face with a grin from ear to ear before whispering.

“Fart for me.”

Jennifer looked at Scarlet with smug confusion.

“Wh-”

PPPPHHHHBRRRRRRRRBBBBBTTTT!!!!!

The sudden blast of gas which escaped Jennifer’s tight ass instantly shattered any sense of confidence that Jennifer might have had.

“Oh my- oh my god!”

Her panic rose as the smell of her own flatulence wafted toward her nose.

“Embarrassing isn’t it? Do it again.”

PPFFFFFFFHHHRRRRRRRRPPPPTTTTTT!!!!

“And again.”

Jennifer tried to fight it, to contain herself, to hold it in as long as she could, but it was inevitable. She felt the bubbling roiling up in her stomach until the gas exploded out her ass with another foul smelling trumpeting blast. The noxious fumes sent Jennifer into a coughing fit.

“Do you feel the loss of control? Stinks doesn’t it?”

“Why are you doing this?” asked Jennifer while still coughing.

“I made all the others fat first. Thought I’d try something different. I admit, it’s amusing to me to see someone with so much pride, someone so stereotypically slim and sexy reduced to a gassy girl who can’t control herself.”

Jennifer felt her abs bow outward as her stomach bloated again with a buildup of gas. The pain eventually became too much and she needed to squeeze and

PPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBTTTTTT!!!!!!!

Another long winded whiner was released.

“And that one was all your doing. Good job.”

Jennifer ran her hands down the curves of her slim body and looked at her athletic curves in the mirror as she moved her hands over the bloated shell of her midsection. She watched her pert ass cheeks tremble just slightly as she let out her largest fart yet followed by a loud groan of disgust.

“Careful. Don’t want to lose your cool.”

And with those words, Jennifer felt her skin go flush as she suddenly felt herself get very warm and experience the sensation of sweat breaking on her brow. In moments she could feel the sweat building up in her armpits. She shuddered as she felt a particularly large bead of sweat roll down her lower back and into the crack of her perfect heart shaped ass. She was already starting to develop quite the funk.

“Feeling uncomfortable? Go ahead. Take a whiff of yourself.”

The puppet strings lifted Jennifer’s arm and forced her head into the crux of her armpit. She reflexively took a large inhale and almost coughed at the stench.

“Quite the aroma, isn’t it? That’s all you. And just think. There’s about to be so much MORE of you in just a few moments. I think it’s about time for our main event.”

Suddenly, the strings hoisted Jennifer up off the ground and threw her into a mighty throne-like chair, fit for a Queen if it were not several sizes too wide. Jennifer was currently swimming in it, but she feared that that would not be the case for long.

Before her, the pigs that were Jennifer’s collection of cronies. Their fat bodies jiggled and dripped with sweat as they each carried heavy trays of food with them. 

“You chose to surround yourself with these people, to wield them as weapons of your cruelty. I think it’s only fitting that they get to play a role in your demise.”

Jennifer tried to protest, but the strings pulled at her head, and she opened her mouth just in time for Syn to cram an eclair into it.

The cream burst inside Jennifer’s mouth and slid down her throat, and there was nothing she could do as a second eclair was plopped into her mouth in short order, then a third, then a fourth. Syn seemed to have a thing for pastries, there were cream puffs next, and then cannoli, followed by coffee cake and doughnuts. Jennifer was feeling like a real pig indeed by the time she got to the pumpkin pie which was slathered in whipped cream. Once that was done, Syn just took the can of whipped cream and emptied that whole ting into Jennifer’s obedient mouth as well.

Fighting was useless. Jennifer knew that. All she could do was wait for the next course to be fed to her. The pains from her stuffings were momentary. She would feel a build up of pressure as her stomach swelled with food until she felt like she couldn’t possibly eat anymore. Then she would release another loud, violent burst of noxious ass gas, usually followed by a tremendous burp, and then her stomach would be roiling with hunger again, demanding to be fed. And her piggish servants were only too happy to oblige.

Bethany was next as she waddled her fat, stanky ass up to serve her queen with a platter laden with greasy, fattening faire. It was like her feast was going in reverse, starting with the sweet dessert and moving onto the more savory. This platter consisted of burgers and fries, pizza and hotdogs. Cheese and grease ran down Jennifer’s chin as the food was relentlessly fed to her, filling her cheeks like a chipmunk. Bethany was always the most aggressive of their group, other than Jennifer herself, and she hardly let Jennifer swallow her food before the next item was pressed to her lips.

The food that Bethany plied Jennifer with was piled high with onions and loaded with garlic. This had a palatable effect on Jennifer’s breath. Every time she did manage to catch a moment to breathe she also caught the distinct notes of her feast on her tongue. It also gave an additional pungent color to her flatulence much to Jennifer’s disgust, and the garlic was even starting to seep out her pores and intensifying her body odor.

“Getting quite ripe already, and we’ve got so much more to go.”

Next came Diana, her gut wobbling, as she struggled to carry a tray weighted down by an array of fattening fried foods. It was bar food galore, a feast of what normally would have been appetizers. Down the hatch went mozzarella sticks, stuffed mushrooms and everything that could possibly be called loaded including nachos, potato skins and french fries. Food slid down Jennifer’s throat thoroughly coated in sauce and cheese. The spicy Buffalo wings contributed to the growing mess on her face and came with enough heat to make her sweat even more profusely. 

This was also around the time that Jennifer began to notice her body expanding again. Unlike last time when she was just suddenly a parade balloon, this time she was beginning to fill out much more slowly, inflating with fat as each new bite touched her tongue. All those calories had to go somewhere after all once they passed Jennifer’s lips.

And they started with her hips.

Jennifer’s hips broadened as her sides overall grew wider. Her outer thighs filled with fat giving her chunky saddlebags. She could feel her muscles melting away, almost like she was melting into the chair, but instead she felt herself raising upward.

As her thighs and ass ballooned, their new size propelled Jennifer upward. The squishy fat mostly spilled sideways, but as her tight ass melted and grew into chunky cushions of chub, those plumping pillows pushed upward as well as out. She couldn’t really see them, but she could feel the fat blowing up her ankles and merging with her calves into fat swollen cankles and then continuing to flow down and turn her nimble feet into fat ones with sausage toes to match the sausage fingers that made up her chubby hands. She wanted more than anything to be over. She thought that if she could at least get out now she could still work most of this off in the gym.

Then out came the bread course brought forth by fat and farting Mildred. The dowdy serving girl had a platter fully plated with carbs of all kinds. There was sourdough, dinner rolls, slices of baguettes smother in cheeses, butters, oil, jams. Every spread imaginable was represented here. Jennifer couldn’t count the number of crostinis covered in various combinations of cream cheese that were crammed into her mouth. Jennifer really felt like a chipmunk now as her cheeks were constantly inflated with crusty bread, the same bread that crumbled and left a mess all over her growing cleavage.

It wasn’t just that Jennifer’s cheeks were expanding from the amount of bread crammed into them. Her entire face was beginning to grow as her cheeks filled with fat as well as food. It was like her cheeks grew rubbery as they puffed out into jowls that were by now consistently covered with a sheen of sweat along with a variety of sauces, gravy, and crumbs of all kinds. Her double chin wobbled as she let her jaw dropped and moaned in protest but more food kept coming.

“Hmmmmm….” mused Scarlet as she ran a finger across Jennifer’s second chin.

“Your mouth must be getting dry. Perhaps we should do something about that.”

A table full of milkshakes was rolled out and then strings pulled on Jennifer’s hands until she was double fisting glasses and chugging them down.

That’s when her belly really started to swell, surging forward as ice cream dripped down her sauce covered chin, picked up the crumbs in her cleavage and dropped them off on the wide expanse of her gut. Its girth filled her fat lap and kept expanding. It gurgled and wobbled as the fat kept flowing. She swelled in size, and just when it started to look like the fat sack in front of her was going to remain cartoonishly disproportionate, the fat began to spread itself out and she began to swell again all at once.

Just like the previously prim and proper popular girls turned pigs, Jennifer grew to become an immensely obese slob. As the weight gain sped up, the frequency and volume of her flatulence increased as well. She was now dropping bombs constantly, groaning and crying as she did so all between gulps of the milkshakes that she could not stop drinking. Her eyes were filled with fear over the combination of how she couldn't stop drinking and how much she didn’t want to.

Eventually though, even the milkshakes ran out as Scarlet began to bring things to their conclusion.

“All good things must come to an end,” she sighed.

By that time, Jennifer had immense tree trunk thighs with fat rolls that flowed over her knees even while she was sitting down. She had a massive gut that filled most of her fat lap and forced her legs as far apart as it could. This was no easy task because, besides having tremendous thunder thighs, Jennifer’s ass, hips, and waist had blown out so much that she was filling up the throne completely. Fat from her ass and love handles was oozing through the decorated arm work and getting pinched against the creaking wood. 

She was a great big ball of blubber, far fatter than any of the others.

“You know, in reality, queen bees are immensely fat so this is quite fitting.”

Jennifer could only sob, her tears mixing with the remnants of the nightmarish feast that still decorated her face. She felt like a circus fat lady crammed into a chair that previously could have held two people.

She was a sweaty hog with hair that had grown greasy and matted and stuck to her fat forehead. Even through the snot of her sobs, Jennifer could smell her foul body odor as it mixed with another bout of gas.

Pppphhhhhhrrrpppt

It was a smaller winding toot that seemed to suggest that things were finally slowing down. Jennifer was grateful for such a small mercy. She had to be, there certainly wasn’t anything else slow about her.

Scarlet stared at her victim. For the first time all night she was beginning to breathe heavily. This particular transformation had taken an extremely large amount of power, and she could tell her night was almost spent, but there was still a last bit of work to do.

“The others at least pretended they were sorry. Begged me to change them back. I’ll give you credit for keeping so resolutely quiet- Although, I suppose that may have been because I kept your fat mouth so full.”

Jennifer opened her mouth, but Scarlet brought an elongated finger to her victim’s lips.

“Shush dear. Don’t ruin it now.”

She leaned in closely to gloat one last time.

“Do you have any idea how magic works, my not so little piggy?”

Jennifer’s multiple chins wobbled as she shook her head in fear.

“It’s like water. It’s everywhere. Technically speaking everyone can get to it, can use it. But witches like me. We’re big ol’ rain clouds, just full of the stuff. Some of us are bigger than others, but we’ve all got it. Me? I’m cumulo-fucking-nimbus. And when a big nasty thundercloud like me finds people like you and your friends, I make it fucking rain. You got to live in the sun until you fucked with my daughter, and now the storm’s come down right on your fat fucking head!”

To emphasize her point, Scarlet poked Jennifer’s greasy head over and over again, causing her jowls to jiggle.

“But the thing about water is, wherever it is, it flows downhill until it meets its level, and it always looks for the path of least resistance to do that. Normally, when I make it rain, I pick the spot and then I just let go. Then the water goes where it wants. Yeah, I picked you, I picked how you changed. I do the whole dream thing. But when you wake up? How the world perceives you and responds, how everybody justifies what has happened, that’s all on the magic. It takes the path of least resistance to make things just sorta work out.”

Scarlet slid like a snake in front of Jennifer and dug her claws into Jennifer’s gelatinous gut.

“But I don’t want things working out for you.”

She rams one long finger up from Jennifer’s cavernous belly button until she could wobble the fat girl’s third chin.

“It takes a lot to make the water flow exactly where and how you want it to. But for you, I’m gonna dig a fucking ditch.”

With both hands, she pinched Jennifer’s chubby cheeks and then slapped her hands on Jennifer’s mammoth thunder thighs.

“The rest of them, they get to have pleasant memories of always being exactly who they are now, at least when they’re awake. The magic will take care of them. And it’ll mend things for you too, but I’m going to give it my own personal bent first. You got to be the skinny bitch you were. You got to rule over people for so much of your life, and then the weight just started to pile on like crazy. You let yourself spiral out of control while everyone watched. I want you to know everything you’ve lost forever. Everyone will remember the skinny bitch that you were and be thrilled by the fat, filthy, foul smelling hog that you’ve become. You get to remember exactly what it was like to be prim, proper and popular before losing control of yourself and becoming a fat, flatulent loser. That’s what you deserve.”

Scarlet turned to leave while Jennifer tried desperately to free her fat folds from the chair.

“So sweet dreams, Piggy.”

She disappeared in a twist of smoke leaving only her voice behind.

“Because the real nightmare’s the rest of your fat fucking life.”

How Would You Like Your Exclusive Cuts Served? Distribution Preference Poll

The next chapter of "Nightmare Pigs" should go up today. I'm already up to over 4,300 words with plenty more to go.

In the meantime, I had a question about how you would like me to post the next volume of Exclusive Cuts to my patreon.

Normally, I put out Exclusive Cuts in one collected volume at a time. However, last time, I released each story as an individual post and then published them all in a collected PDF. I'm wondering which distribution do you prefer.

Do you want the smaller stories released individually over time, or do you prefer to wait and have everything all at once?

Suggest Some Thick Burger Stories and Midweek Updates

Hello Everyone,

I need Thick Burger story ideas. Submit them below. Why? I'll explain that with the updates.

It's been a busy week. I got Volume 20 of "Fat Trimmings" done and started volume 21. I selected the story ideas that I'll be using for Exclusive Cuts Volume 8. And I am hard at work with the penultimate chapter of "Nightmare Pigs".

Currently the chapter featuring the transformation of queen bee Jennifer Russel is at a little over 2,500 words with a goal of getting it up over 4,000. I am anticipating being able to share the story by Friday evening or Saturday morning, possibly earlier if I really hit a stride later today.

What does this have to do with Thick Burger? Why am I asking you for stories?

Here's why: Volume 21 of "Fat Trimmings" is going to be short. It will likely be 3 stories and somewhere between 1,500 and 2,500 words. The reason for this is so that I can put more of my focus into Exclusive Cuts Volume 8 where I have promised 8 stories.

The story I have started for Volume 21 is a realistic belly centric piece that should be quick. I'm sure the second story will also likely be something that pops into my head at some point and I write it very quickly. Because those stories can be anything, that's very easy to do.

But the last story is supposed to be a Thick Burger story which has been the case since Volume 16, and while I'm not nearly out of ideas, I have too much else to focus on to generate one right now.

That's where you come in!

Please suggest some story ideas to be set in the Thick Burger universe. I'll use one of them this week, and save the others for potential use down the road.

Thank you for your time, and I appreciate your suggestions.

"Exclusive Cuts" Volume 7 TEASERS

The plan is still to release the penultimate chapter of "Nightmare Pigs" this week, but I have chosen the story ideas that I'm going to use for "Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts Volume 7". All are based on the theme of role reversal.

Fittingly enough for volume 8, there are 8 planned stories. That's a lot! Possibly too much! But, since two of them are going to not actually be exclusive, I wanted to make sure everyone here got their money's worth. As a reminder, one of these stories will be voted on by patrons to get an extended cut that will remain exclusive to this patreon while the original version will be released on Deviant Art as an advertisement for this patreon. And one of these stories is actually a suggestion from one of my DA watchers to celebrate reaching 500 watchers. (I'm now over 560!)

Without further ado, here is the possibly too ambitious slate of stories for the next round of Exclusive Cuts:

“Fit Friend, Fat Friend”: Two friends switch places in their friend group.

“Buffet Buddies”: Two unlikely best friends, one fit, one fat, experience a change in their figures once the fit one starts to lose control.

“Step-Sister Stepped Over”: A jealous woman uses magic to surpass her vain and successful step-sister.

“Princess to Pig”: A vain and greedy princess gets what’s coming to her when her overfed maidservants take their revenge.

“Pizza Shop Swap”: A vain woman and the pudgy pizza shop employee that she enjoys tormenting switch more than just their figures.

“Trading Influence”: Two promising Youtube influencers, one a makeup influencer, one a mukbang star switch spheres of influence.

“Beauty Shop Blowup”: Covid Lockdown has varying effects on several ladies of a beauty supplies store.

“Habits Changed. Weight Gained.”: Two women, one fat and one thin, sign up for an experimental treatment to remove their toxic traits and get some interesting results. (This story will also be posted to Deviant Art in celebration of reaching 500 Watchers. It was suggested by one of those watchers.)

By the way, if you have a Deviant Art account, watching me, and favoriting and commenting on my stories there really helps drive views and then those turn into new patrons here, so it's a great way to give me additional support without giving me additional money. (Although I also have a 2 dollar tip jar if you're so inclined.)

Anyway, thanks for your time. Expect more about these stories soon.

"Fat Trimmings": Volume 20 XXL Edition

5 stories, almost 8,000 words. Two different versions!

"Twenty Pounds Here and There": A woman tries to deny her steady weight gain until it's too late.

"A Little Bit of Magic": A vain and jealous witch engages in some magical shenanigans that backfire.

"One of Those Fat Making Notebooks": A chubby girl finds a magical notebook that makes people fat. My take on a classic trope.

"Prissy Priscilla Gets Fat": A prim and proper gold digger gets more than she bargained for with her fat fiancé's even fatter family.

"Sorority Sisters Swell": Vain sorority sisters get fat, each gaining weight differently.

Attached you will find the slob cut of this post if you're into that sort of thing. It is over 8,000 words.

Enjoy!

-----------------------------------------

“Twenty Pounds Here and There”

She didn’t even notice the first twenty pounds really. Sure her pants were getting tighter, but Freshman year of college was such a blur. It was a year of making new friends and partying harder than she had ever thought she would. It was a time when the world was her oyster, and she felt unstoppable, untouchable. 

So she never checked the number creeping up on the scale until it was too late. 

Having been the Queen Been of high school, it was easy enough to believe that she would never gain weight. The mere thought of it seemed like an impossibility to her. Gaining weight was for lesser people. Getting what was for lazy pigs who couldn’t control themselves. That’s why, in her mind, fat people were so worthy of being made fun of, because they could have avoided being fat and chose to be lazy, greedy, cows.

But she never took her own grazing into account, never kept track of the amount of time she was spending snacking, especially now that she didn’t have the watchful eyes of her mother or her cheer coach watching her. She didn’t have to pay for her dining hall meals, so she never tracked just how much food she was eating there and how many trips she was even making. And well…

That adds up.

And the first twenty pounds eventually became noticeable because one can’t expect to gain twenty pounds and still have all of their clothes fit, and twenty pounds is also enough time to look in the mirror and stop blaming the laundry for shrinking things and accept that you’ve just grown a bit.

She felt it. She could touch and pinch and jiggle the beer belly she had grown over her first year of college, but the freshman fifteen is an expected thing. Everyone gains the freshman fifteen, right? And, sure, twenty pounds is technically more than fifteen pounds, but what’s a difference of five pounds? Five pounds is nothing. Five pounds might as well be water weight. 

So she didn’t panic.

There were promises to watch what she ate, to exercise more and party less, and these promises lasted for about a month before the allure of beer pong and keg stands became too much, and all the hangovers made even the idea of going to the gym a wretched one.

And so sophomore more year brought another twenty pounds. And while twenty pounds may not have been as noticeable, there is no way to hide a forty pound weight gain.

Forty pounds gets people talking.

And most of those people were beginning to generously refer to her as chubby. Some were more inclined to call her downright fat. The more catty among her friends were already starting to refer to her as “Piggy”.

At forty pounds everything that was already inclined to be bigger grows bigger still. Her belly got fatter.  It stuck out further. It slipped out from under more shirts, a jiggling mass growing harder and harder to contain. At forty pounds the start of stretch marks began to appear on her love handles and she developed a truly delicious muffin top ripe for the squeezing. 

Her forty pound ass was fuller and fatter, no longer holding shape on its own. Her cheeks were chunky and covered in cellulite, and they bounced and jiggled with every step. There was next to no muscularity left to her blubbery butt which had once been one of her finest features.

Her breasts had grown as well, not enough to outpace her belly but enough to start sagging and causing her back pain issues. Even her face was getting fatter with her hint of a double chin becoming more prominent.

The forty pound mark is right around where the panic began to set in.

But losing forty pounds is a lot harder than losing twenty.

By the time one has gained forty pounds, bad habits have formed. Appetites and metabolisms have greatly changed. There’s more to fight against and less of the willpower to do it. Gaining forty pounds of fat means muscles have been lost. The gym gets even harder to go to. And when the gym gets harder to go to, while the appetite keeps increasing and the metabolism keeps crashing, well that’s when you can end up on the wrong end of a downward spiral.

And that’s exactly where she was. All of her attempts to lose weight became a struggle just to mitigate the gain, to slow it down, and the best she could ever seem to get it to do was to not accelerate. She tried to ignore it. It was just another pound here and there. But then those single pounds became sets of twenty. It was like clockwork. You could set your watch by her weight gain.

By the end of junior year she had gained another twenty, bringing her grand total to sixty pounds gained. Then by senior year she was up to eighty porky pounds put on her previously slim frame. Imagine then, what she looked like when she showed up to her fifth year high school reunion blown to one hundred pounds heavier than when she graduated, almost double her weight since entering college.

Lots of people put on weight in college. Lots of people show up to their five year reunion looking a little chunkier. It’s always a fun game to play, seeing which of the mean cheerleaders and arrogant jock had chunked up in college, letting themselves go and showing everyone how they peeked in high school. But it is remarkably rare for someone’s weight to take the kind of outrageous swing that hers did.

Her gut was huge as she walked through the door. It surged far past her massive breasts, and the ill-fitting dress that she wore might as well have been painted on. It was stretched to show the exact outline of every curve, but the fabric itself was not tight enough to contain anything. That meant that the fabric illustrated every inch and fold of her double belly, but it still moved as her gelatinous gut jiggled and swayed with every slow, ponderous step she took.

Those steps were so slow because she could no longer walk normally. Her weight gain of one hundred pounds had gone to her thighs and made them large enough to press together and outward forcing her to waddle. Her thick, cellulite covered thunder thighs were fully exposed to the world to see. She couldn’t risk any kind of leggings because her fat thighs were already sweaty and uncomfortable enough as it was. They also stretched the fabric of her dress so much that it was riding up and threatening to expose her ass cheeks if she wasn’t careful.

Those chunky cheeks had also ballooned out and gave her a real shelf of an ass. The undulated in rhythm with every step that she took, and she frequently had to stop and reach a chubby hand as far back as she could to pull her dress down and save whatever dignity that she had left. It was clear to everyone based on how the dress was trying to ride up her fat ass that this was probably an outfit she had purchased at least twenty pounds ago.

Everyone was speechless.

Until they weren’t.

Then the laughter rang out. And the words were heard.

“Piggy.”

“Whale.”

“Fat slob.”

“Look at how she’s let herself be a cow.”

“COW! MOOOO!”

“OINK OINK OINK! What a porker she turned into!”

“To think, she used to make fun of me for my weight. She’s a balloon!”

“I feel even better having lost weight. Looks like she found it all!”

“She’s the big fat loser now!”

Karma hit her in a big way. The queen had lost her crown.

And she could have let this drive her into a retreat, but instead her stomach and her anxiety combined to send her to the place years of eating at college had conditioned her for, to the buffet.

She stuffed her face all while people laughed behind her back and to her face. She stuffed her fat face until she couldn’t possibly eat any more, until her dress was threatening to burst. She ate and ate and ate, making a complete and total pig of herself and giving everyone the biggest show they could have ever asked for.

And when she was done she went home to eat some more because she knew the truth deep down.

There was no going back.

--------------------------------

“A Little Bit of Magic”

--------------------------------

Opal felt a spark. Not a good kind of spark, mind you. No this was the kind of spark that quickly spread throughout her body and ran hot up her neck, making the hairs stand on end. She looked over at Delia, her rival, her best friend, her greatest enemy, and her jaw dropped as Delia’s smile twisted into a sinister grin. That’s when she knew she was truly screwed.

She had thought she was so smart too, she had practiced endlessly, researched the perfect spell, found the perfect moment to do it and quickly and quietly pulled her wand.

For all of their time and school, Opal and Delia had competed to be the most powerful, most beautiful, most popular. The two vain women knew each other better than anyone else. They were a pair, two gorgeous, glamorous girls who felt like they were superior to everyone else while being consumed by a bitter jealousy of each other. And Opal was ready to settle things once and for all. With their senior year of college ending, now was the time. She had Delia right where she wanted her.

She just didn’t expect Delia to be expecting her.

And to have the perfect counter charm prepared.

But now Opal knew exactly what was going to happen to her.

Opal was going to get fat.

She could feel her arms vibrating and then quivering as they filled with fat. She looked rather comically with her arms being the only part of her inflating with fat and doing so quickly. Her previously lean limbs turned into puffy marshmallow arms with pillowy bingo wings that were jiggling as she looked at them in panic. She felt whatever strength she had in them drained as the muscle melted away into fat making her both weaker and heavier at the same time. 

Then her belly suddenly surged outward, all at once, it blew off several buttons on her blouse as it announced itself to the world. All it took was an instant and her hard earned abs were no more, replaced by a big spongy gut that hung over the waistband of her. The buttons flew and Opal’s new belly bounced. It was a heavy, sagging blubbery belly that made her look like the kind of person who had spent her life eating nothing but sweets as opposed to the dedicated gym rat and vain meticulous dieter that she always had been. Opal had always felt in control, and her precious abs were the ultimate symbol of that. Now she had a great big greedy gut, and she could already hear it calling out, grumbling with the desire to be filled by sweet, greasy, fattening food.

Opal’s ass blew out as well, blowing up like twin balloons and filling with pounds upon pounds of soft, gelatinous fat. Her great big flabby ass first pushed up her skirt in a rather comical fashion as her chunky chunks pushed outward and sagged low, bouncing and quivering as they slapped against the backs of her thighs. Then, thanks to the widening of her hips along with her growing ass and burgeoning love handles, the skirt gave up. The fattening assault from all sides was too much for it to handle, and it burst at the waistband and blew off her body. Opal was left with her ass exposed. Her fat cheeks were out for all to see and looked to be eating her underwear swallowing up the fabric which was now crammed in them far further than they were ever designed to be. Her bloated, blubber butt was covered in cellulite and quaked as she frantically tried to cover it up with her chubby hands.

Opal’s thighs grew flabby as well. Her lean, muscular legs quickly expanded into fat and flabby tree trunks that slapped together like waves of fat crashing in a storm. Her thunder thighs rubbed together, and it was evident by the few clumsy steps that she took that she was now stuck with waddling awkwardly instead of strutting around like she owned the place. The fat seemed to flow downward from her thighs throughout the rest of her legs. Her calves and ankles swelled until they came together to form cankles, and even her feet got fat enough to make Opal knew that she would be best suited investing in a new pair of shoes.

Her breasts grew bigger, softer, saggier, and became adorned by bright stretch marks. They too quivered just like the rest of her. Opal’s whole body shook like jello as she stumbled about in a panic. Even her face grew fat and droopy with jowls and a double chin to match.

Hoisted by her own petard, the obese Opal stumbled about some more before eventually crashing to the ground sending another wave of shaking fat through her body. She truly gave the appearance of a beached whale and left her rival, Delia none the worse for wear. Instead, Delia simply laughed at Opal and walked away leaving the fat girl seething.

And as Opal laid there, ball of blubber that she had become, she already had the wheels turning in her brain as she began to plot her revenge.

-----------------------------------------------------

“One of Those Fat Making Notebooks”

-----------------------------------------------------

Asami couldn’t believe it. She had actually stumbled upon a notebook that made people fat. It worked like Death Note, but with fat! Debu Note! Just like the videos she had seen. But this was a parody come to life, a weapon of great power at her disposal and ready to humiliate her enemies and achieve her fattening vengeance.

Hell yeah!

Sure, there was probably some kind of gluttony demon attached to this thing, and there were probably some kind of consequences in store for her, but she had never read nor watched enough of Death Note to worry about that kind of thing. Her knowledge of fat making notebooks was exceedingly limited to a couple of Youtube parody videos and an old Fan2000 story that she was only half remembering.

Still, fat making notebooks don’t come around every day. (Maybe every few years perhaps, but certainly not EVERY day.) And she was determined to make the most of it.

First, a test was in order.

As Asami sat her chubby butt on a chair outside the little cafe where she had found the notebook (totally not ominously thrown in the bathroom garbage), she watched a slender woman across from her eat an undressed salad. It was the undressed salad that so easily led Asami to jump to the conclusion that this woman was a skinny bitch, and so she went to work with the notebook.

“The woman sitting across from me and eating an undressed salad will gain ten pounds, mostly to her belly, within the next minute and think this is totally normal,” she wrote. Asami was working under the suspicion that when testing it was always best to be as specific and detailed as possible.

Sure enough, the woman’s slim waist soon began to swell as she gained ten pounds. Her dress stretched to accommodate the growth, most of which landed on her belly and gave her formerly flat stomach a distinctly convex shape. Asami could watch it jiggle as the woman finished her meal and got up to leave. The woman seemed a bit uncomfortable with the tightness of her outfit, and was left somewhat more insecure than she otherwise would have been, but she was not exactly in a panic.

The whole thing made Asami chuckle softly, but it didn’t exactly leave her satisfied. 

“The woman I just made gain weight will gain another fifty pounds over the course of the next year and never be able to lose it,” she wrote with a sinister grin on her face.

And then Asami let the woman go off on her merry way, content to use her imagination to think about what would become of the woman whose life she had changed for the fatter, the self-consciousness, the panic, the failures at dieting and the bursting of clothes. It was an enjoyable taste, but she again needed more.

So she headed off to the modeling agency that she worked as a production assistant at and prepared herself for a feast.

Asami had three particular targets in mind. She thought about changing more. She thought about creating radical changes throughout the whole company, but she didn’t want to let all of this power get ot her head, to rush and make mistakes. And, mostly importantly, she wanted to savor things.

So three would do for now, and she knew just which three it would be: Colleen, Kyara, and Melanie. Asami was a chubby, dowdy production assistant at the modeling agency and those three were the models who most consistently made her life hell.

Kyara was the first of the vain, stuck-up models that Asami ran into. Kyara was always on Asami about her weight and most specifically what she ate. She loved to spot Asami at the craft services table having a doughnut and reprimand her for eating unhealthy snacks. She was a cruel bitch like that.

In a perfect coincidence, Asami spotted Kyara standing by the craft services picking at a tray of fruit. She was just in a bikini and a whisper thin sarong. Making it look like she was just checking some notes in her production binder, Asami quickly wrote in the notebook.

“Kyara will gain thirty pounds right now, mostly to her belly, but and thighs. She will become addicted to junk food and gain an additional hundred and twenty pounds over the next year and never be able to lose it.”

Kyara’s hand dropped the grape she was about to eat and instead hovered over the box of doughnuts as her six pack abs began to melt away, seamlessly turning into a generous potbelly, going slack and then surging outward until fat began to roll over her sarong while the lowest part of her belly fat pushed at the very loose knot that was holding the garment in place.

The double chocolate glazed doughnut soon graced her lips, and as it did so it was like it sent a message to her hips. They began to widen as both her ass and thighs grew thicker and softer. Her ass began to swell and sag, two chunky cheeks covered in cellulite, and while her thighs weren’t near fat enough to make her waddle just yet, they were now filled with enough flab to get rid of any thigh gap she had previously had.

Kyara’s body found new softness all over, but it was clear that things were working as intended. With another one hundred and twenty pounds to come her way, Kyara was destined to become an extremely bottom heavy girl. Asamai loved watching as Kyara continued to swell a bit more until the combination of her hips, butt and belly growing finally undid the knot on the sarong and sent it falling to the floor. As Kyara bent down to pick it up, Asami watched Kyara’s ass cheek wobble and her thighs quiver and slap together.

“What the hell is this?!” yelled Mike, one of the photographers.

Kyara finally noticed herself and let out a scream.

“I-I don’t know how this happened. I-”

“We can tell. You’ve been sneaking snacks, you naughty little piglet.” snickered one of a pair of models that Asami did not recognize.

“Yeah. Keep stuffing your face with doughnuts like that, and you’ll get even puffier,” laughed the other of the two new girls.

Kyara’s mind was racing. She couldn’t understand how or why this was happening. It was like all she knew was that she was suddenly much heavier, fatter, than normal, and she had an immense desire to panic stuff her face with junk food. Without even thinking about it, she crammed most of the doughnut into her mouth.

“She’s a goner.”

“Yup. Oink, oink, Fatty.”

“Oink. Oink. Oink.”

The two girls kept laughing and oinking as they strutted away, and Asamai took a mental note to possibly come back to them later.”

Meanwhile, Mike was thinking out loud.

“Okay. Okay. I can still do a lot of chest up shots, work from top down, and then put in overtime with the photoshop. But you better get things straight and be careful, girl, if you don’t want to end up in the plussize division.”

Asami laughed at the idea knowing that she had stuck Kyara and the perfect weight and proportion. She wasn’t big enough for plus size, and she wouldn’t gain weight very evenly, and with another hundred and twenty pounds to go, that should put her out of most plus size gigs. Asami loved thinking about how Kyara’s career would suffer, how every aspect of her life would change, including her becoming one of those people who takes a lot of face only pictures and then surprises you with how immensely obese they are. Asami wanted to stay and daydream about Kyara forever, but she had other targets to fatten.

Melanie was next.

Asami found Melanie fresh off a lingerie photoshoot wearing a lace negligee top and matching panties. She looked so sexy with her lean body and toned muscles. Her butt was perfectly pert. Her abs were visible. She had an angelic face that did such a nice job of hiding her devilish interior. 

Asami was about to change all of that with a few flicks of the pen.

“Melanie will gain two hundred and fifty pounds within the next minute, and everyone will act like things are surprising but normal. Melanie’s clothes will grow with her but be barely fitting.”

She had thought about having Melanie burst out of her clothes and be left a naked, blubbery, blubbering woman. She thought about Melania as a fat blob with her clothes broken on the floor, struggling to cover her massive breasts and broad backside. Her belly would be big enough to hang down and cover her front.

But Asami wanted to save the clothes bursting for another time, so she left things as is and enjoyed the show.

It started just like Kyara with a rumbling in Melanie’s stomach. But unlike Kyara’s tummy which swelled out slowly below sloping over the waistband of her bikini bottoms, Melanie’s stomach practically exploded with fat as it inflated like a huge water balloon filling with blubber. Her flesh was undulating as it grew. It bounced and jiggled as her abs turned into a gut and beyond. In moments she was standing there with a gelatinous sack of fat, a huge double belly hanging over the front of her panties and obscuring them completely. It was still bouncing and jiggling as the rest of her filled with thick, quivering fat.

Melanie’s ass ballooned to match her belly, growing two bulbous cheeks chunky and chalk full of cellulite. They were flabby cushions, pillows of jiggling adipose, filling up and out and then hanging down, slapping against her growing thighs. Her well cushioned backside was quickly met by the rising dough of her thunder thighs. Melanie’s lean and athletic thighs became great tree trunks that pressed together and forced her into a wider stance fitting someone who would soon be stuck waddling about instead of strutting like a proper model. Her billowy thighs quivered with the slightest of movements much to Asami’s delight.

Up top, Melanie’s breasts also surged forward, filling and practically spilling out of the cups of her bra. Her massive mammaries would have broken the bra completely if it wasn’t for the specifics of what Asami had written. Instead the bra itself shifted and changed to include much more intense underwire to better hold the boulders that it contained. And even then, the titanic breasts tagged heavily and strained Melanie’s fat roll laden back with their immense weight. 

Her arms got fatter as well, becoming thick but loose with flab. Her bingo wings shook as she grabbed at her flabby flesh with her chubby sausage fingers.

Melanie’s angelic face was not left unchanged. It morphed into a far more piggish appearance with chubby cheeks that were not at all flattering to her upturned nose and made her eyes look small. Even that nose swelled with fat. But the most prominent change to her face was the appearance of a thick double chin that drooped down from her previously delicate jawline.

Melanie grasped at her fat body and Asami could see the look in her eyes. It was interesting, a look of complete humiliation but not fear. There was clearly panic there but more from how humiliated and exposed she felt and not from shock at how suddenly she had grown and how large she had become. Even the people around her seemed to react more in annoyance and frustration than in surprise and disbelief.

“Holy shit, what are we gonna do with her now?” asked Esteban, one of the agency higher ups as he talked to Trishelle, a chubby photographer who Melanie had a very tense working relationship with up until now.

Trish looked down at her camera and then back up at Melanie with glee.

“Well, we could roll this hog over to the fetish department. This would make for some great before and after photos, worth her weight in gold.”

Trish laughed as she shook Melanie’s spare tire and sent the rest of her fat body jiggling as well. 

“Yeah. Yeah. That could work. I think I can get her a whole cake she can eat too. You can handle that, can’t you Mel?”

Melanie was aghast. She was just a moment ago a perfect model living her dream, and while suddenly being this weight seemed totally normal to her, she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how or why it had happened. All she knew was two things. One, she was supremely fat and hungry. Two, she was far too fat for regular modeling now and if she wanted to keep her job at all she was going to have to eat an entire cake. 

She nodded and her fat cheeks flushed as her double chin wobbled.

“Yeah? You’re gonna eat a whole cake?” teased Estaban.

“I’m gonna eat a whole cake.” muttered Melanie.

“Come on. Louder. With some spirit.”

“I’M GONNA EAT A WHOLE CAKE!”

“You’re my fatty.”

“I’M YOUR FATTY!”

“Oink for me, fatty.”

“OINK! OINK! OINK!”

“Look at me, and do that again.” chimed in Trishelle.

Melanie did as she was told, oinking like a pig for Trishelle’s camera, scrunching up her fat face and snorting like an animal. It was humiliating, but it was the only way Melanie knew how to make a dollar at this point.

“Good piggy. Now save some of that for your next shoot. I hope you’re hungry,” laughed Trishelle as she spanked Melanie’s fat blubber butt and led her new piggy project off to the fetish department for her new humiliating career.

Asami was practically doubled over in laughter. It was all working out better than she had ever planned. And she still had one more to go.

Luckily, Colleen was not hard to find at all. In fact, Asami heard her before she could see her. Colleen was berating Stuart, another nebbish production assistant for bringing a glass of water in it with only three slices of cucumber in it instead of four. This was the exact kind of thing that Colleen was known for doing all the time. In fact, just the day before Asami had heard Colleen yelling at Stuart for bringing her a glass of water that had four slices of cucumber in it instead of three.

Colleen was often berating Asami as well, usually about her weight and her job status. Colleen loved to lord her power over the assistants and was known for strutting her stuff and crushing anyone in her way.

Asami was eager to change all that. That’s why she had saved Colleen for last. She had a particularly ironic fate for her and wanted to really test the powers of the notebook.

“Colleen started gaining weight two years ago. She got too fat to be a model, and was instead demoted to a production assistant a year ago. She’s been steadily gaining ever since and will continue to do so because she is a junk food junkie.”

In an instant the Colleen that was standing in front of Asami was completely different.

Colleen had been standing around in an elegant evening gown. She was every bit the image of prim and proper poise and elegance. But this Colleen looked like a fat schlubby slob in sweats.

The former model had become a round ball of fat with a thick gut that was so ponderous that it easily slipped out from under her dirty t-shirt and over the waistband of her sweatpants. She was constantly having to alternate between tucking her big belly into her sweatpants and pulling down her too small shirt to cover what she could. Unfortunately for her, Colleen’s job as a production assistant had her frequently waddling from place to place which left her sweaty, winded, and frequently humiliatingly exposed.

And Colleen had to waddle because her thighs were so tremendous, swishing tree trunks that constantly rubbed together. Her thighs were so thick with fat that the impressions of the cellulite that they were covered with were visible through the fabric of the too tight sweatpants. Even though Colleen definitely had cankles, the meat of her thighs was the real show, blowing outward like two huge fatty drumsticks. And they were paired with an equally bulbous blubber butt.

Colleen’s ass was the definition of a wideload. It was like she had a pair of bean bags crammed into her pants, and the pants couldn’t always take it. Her chunky cheeks often crested over the top giving her a very noticeable and oft laughed at plumber’s crack. Her entire body was like that, overly large and wobbly and constantly leaving Colleen in a state of humiliating disarray.

Even her fat pillowy arms were so large that the ham hocks that were once her biceps made any t-shirts she wore uncomfortably tight. Her back had fat rolls. Even her shoulders were fat. 

Colleen had also gotten a really fat face. It was round like a moon with big dimples on the rare times she smiled. She was a jowly girl with multiple chins to her name. Overall, her face had a greasy sheen and a dopey look on it far from the glamorous and confident visage she had previously projected.

Her fat face looked miserable. It was full of regret and the knowledge of the pretty privilege she once possessed and had since lost. Colleen’s fat face was full of disappointment and the weary acceptance of her new lot in life. She waddled with her head held low and her multiple chins bloated outward like a frog. She was quiet yet clumsy, still unused to her lumbering body. 

She was a complete slob too, with a dirty shirt constantly stained by sweat and the remnants of whatever meal she had just eaten. She had completely given up. Everything about her screamed defeat.

Asami couldn’t be happier.

And yet, she was not satisfied.

She wanted more.

With her precious notebook clutch in her hand, Asami decided to head to the fetish department and watch Melanie eat an entire cake.

Who knows, she might even find some more fun to be had while she was there.

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“Prissy Priscilla Plumps Up”

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Priscilla had finally made it. She had spent years digging for gold and finally hit the jackpot. 

Walter Gelt was a very rich man, and Priscilla was practically driven crazy thinking about all the things she would do with his money. She daydreamed of the things she would buy. At night when she slept she imagined herself jet setting around the world, taking in gorgeous windswept landscapes while casually promoting her own lifestyle brand on social media. She saw herself dripping in jewels and dressed to the nines in the most glamorous outfits money could buy. She was all set to have everything she ever wanted, everything she knew she deserved. 

And there was just one problem.

Walter Gelt was a very FAT man. He was a ponderous, lumbering fellow with an outrageous ball of a belly, a huge spare tire that hung out over his pants and forced every shirt he ever own to rise upward as his gut somehow continually defied the laws of gravity. The only thing saggy about his torso was the great big set of sweaty man boobs that rested atop his gargantuan gut. 

Down below, Walter was a man with a big fat ass and chunky thunder thighs that left him with a slow moving waddle. He was a kind man. A good man. And, most importantly to Priscilla, he was a rich man with lots of connections. The fat part was something Priscilla was going to have to learn to deal with.

Priscilla hated fat people. She had hated them her entire life. To her fat people were disgusting slobs, lazy and awful. She couldn’t stand the idea of body positivity. Priscilla was certain that that was just an idea created by the weak to make excuses for their ugly, bloated bodies. Instead, Priscilla loved to make sport of fat people, to humiliate and taunt them. She was the queen of doing that ever since she ascended the social ranks in high school.

When Priscilla became the head of her prestigious sorority, she made restrictions even tighter when it came to body type and regularly made people’s lives hell all in her relentless pursuit of perfection. The only thing she cared about about her appearance was her desire to have lots and lots of money handed to her while doing as little work as possible.

Prisicilla was gorgeous and inherently lazy. She had never had to work all that hard to keep her figure, and for money she had never had to work at all. She regularly strung people along whether that was family or a strong of handsome boyfriends. She desired nothing more than to be absolutely set for life. 

That’s where Walter came in.

Priscilla found Walter physically disgusting, but she also found that she had the kind-hearted fat man wrapped around her little finger. If she had to do some things, if she had to get into Walter’s pants to get access to his wallet, she could swallow her pride and do it. She always figured when she was jetssing on Walter’s dime she’d find herself in the arms of some real hunks, and, with Walter’s weight… well… she didn’t expect that marriage to last very long.

The only thing Priscilla didn’t count on was Walter’s big fat family.

Walter had a big fat mama and two heifers for sisters. They were big fat blubbery slobs who lived in Walter’s mansion, sucked up his money, and had far more of a run of his life than Priscilla was accounting for, and the biggest problem that came from that was that Priscilla had to go and live with them for an entire year before she and Walter were even allowed to get married.

It didn’t take long for Priscilla to realize that Walter’s mother, Gertrude, and his sisters, Hilda and Florence were going to be a nightmare that Priscilla had to live with before she could live her dream life. They were tremendous fatties. Walter’s sisters were so large that when they sat on the couch together they took up practically the whole thing. Priscilla was disgusted anytime she was forced to sit between the two and felt their fat bodies pressed against her. 

And Walter’s mother, Gertrude, better known as Trudy, was the fattest woman that Priscilla had ever known. She was a hog on wheels and required a mobility scooter just to get around. Walter had spent far too much money as far as Priscilla was concerned making the mansion accessible for his mammoth mother. 

She was a horribly uncouth woman who was constantly talking about how Priscilla was only after Walter for his money, which of course she was, but it was still rude to constantly say out loud!

Worst of all, Gertrude clearly wanted to make Priscilla fat. She insisted that Priscilla eat and eat and eat, stuffing her face seemingly endlessly. In fact, it wasn’t just a matter of insisting. It was an order. Priscilla couldn’t believe it, but Trudy had made a requirement of Priscilla marrying her son, eating whatever she was given for the whole year, and Walter had gone along with it!

So Priscilla had no choice. If she wanted to get to the finish line and bask in the glory and riches she would have to put up with a little fattening first. Just a few pounds. She could lose it once she had the money. Personal trainers and surgery if necessary, right?

Easier said than done.

The thing that Priscilla hated the most, other than the changes to her perfect figure and feeling stuffed like a turkey all the time, was the pure glee that her fat cow future sister in-laws took in feeding her. They kept bringing her plate after plate of food, and when she couldn’t bring herself to eat any more of that, they took to feeding her by hand all while taunting her, poking her and pinching her. She grew fatter, and the two fatties were there to point out how much she was growing every single day.

When the wedding finally came, Priscilla was a prized pig, fatter than she had ever thought possible. She looked absolutely miserable crammed into her ill-fitting wedding dress next to her slim and sexy bridesmaids. She was convinced that Hilda and Florence had purposefully turned down being bridesmaids so that Priscilla would be the fattest person in photos.

She had spent so much of the day starving herself to try to look as good and feel as confident as possible, but one drink in and her self-control was lost. She made a complete pig out of herself and it was a whole fiasco. She was such an embarrassment that by the time she split the seams of her wedding gown, her own mother had stormed out in humiliation.

After the wedding, things weren’t much better for Priscilla. Jetsetting was right out. She wouldn’t be caught dead on a beach in a swimsuit. And she had grown far too fat to fit into her former glamorous outfits. Her weight gain had also shot her confidence straight through, so it wasn;t like there were going to be any hunks coming calling for her.

And her friends? Her bridesmaids? They all turned their back on her after the wedding. She may have been rich, but she was a big fat rich loser to them. They hung around for a bit, but with Priscilla being unwilling to take them to fabulous places, they certainly weren’t going to stick around and blow up right alongside her. Once they each put on fifteen pounds, they knew they needed to get out.

So Priscilla was all alone.

Almost.

She had to admit that through it all Walter had been a gem. If anything, as she grew he grew even more amorous. And as she spent more time with him she found him more tolerable. And the food was always so good. She tried to diet after the wedding and found it to be impossible. Priscilla had grown so used to piggy out that it was like she needed to be stuffing her face.

And her new family was happy to enable her.

So Priscilla just let herself go, let it all go, and she had to admit it felt great to do so. No more tight glamorous outfits. She was a fat slob in sweats with a gluttonous gut, a spare tire that was growing out as if she was trying to match her husband’s. But she grew much bigger hips than her husband’s. She grew blubbery behind perfectly suited for sitting on a couch. She had to be given her own because she could no longer fit on the one with her sister in-laws. 

It was a revelation just cutting loose, eating whatever whenever indulging in every kind of hedonistic pleasure worth indulging in. With Walter by her side, and her new family supporting her, Priscillia shook off the shackles of her prim and proper life and accepted the fact that she was destined to be a big fat fatty. And she had to admit the truth.

She was a happy hog of a housewife.

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“Sorority Sisters Swell”

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The Terrific Trio were a group of well known skinny bitches. They were slim and sexy and they knew it. Tonya, Maria, and Amelia were queens of their sorority who had known each other since they were queens of their high school. They were, as far as society at large was concerned, the epitome of physical perfection. 

And they loved to hold that over people. They felt superior to everyone, especially those who were fat, and if that made some people bristle at them, who cares? They didn’t need anybody else. They had each other. They were thick as thieves.

One they took a fateful visit to Thick Burger.

And soon they were just getting thick.

That visit to Thick Burger was a life changer. It led to another, and a third, and then weekly appearances, sometimes bi or even thrice weekly. Every special occasion required a trip to Thick Burger. They began to go to Thick Burger more and more, they started to grow more and more. And it wasn’t long until the previously slim sorority sisters were downright fat. And while they were alike in so many ways, all of their fat settled very differently.

Tonya was an undeniable pear. Sure, up top she grew as well. Her breasts swelled a fair bit. Her arms got thick, and her face rounded out and developed a slight double chin that became more noticeable when she smiled or opened her mouth to shove another burger in it. But the weight really started to pile on the further down you looked. She grew a sizeable pot belly, a nice gut that pressed against her dresses or spilled out over her pants, but even that wasn’t the show stopper.

That award went to everything below the waist starting with her incredible wide hips. Her monster hips were paired with a huge ass, two balloons for butt cheeks that had an uncanny knack for staying afloat, defying gravity even as they filled further with fat. And below those bulbous cheeks were a pair of titanic thighs, thick blubber pillars of fat that pressed together and forced her to swing her legs in a wide waddle. They were covered in cellulite just like her butt, and those thunder thighs paired with all the junk in her oversized trunk made her move very slowly across campus. As she slowed down she stopped exercising and grew even faster becoming a comically large pear with an incredibly huge peach.

At the other end of the fruit bowl was Maria. Maria was an apple. Sure, she grew a big flabby ass too, but it was soft and saggy. It rested on flabby thighs, but even that was not where the majority of her weight went. Maria’s fat settled mostly around the middle. She used to have immaculate abs that she was incredibly proud of. She loved to show them off. She doesn’t do much showing off of her gut, at least not intentionally.

Maria grew a huge pot belly, the kind of fat sack that stretched out her shirts and forced either buttons to strain or t-shirts to ride up as her flabby muffin top spilled out and over her pants. She was often mistaken for pregnant until people noticed how jiggly her gut was. Her spare tire made her have to work to lean forward and grab the food she loved to stuff her face with. And it still only narrowly outpaced her massive breasts.

Maria’s humongous mammaries became her pride and joy. They required an extremely heavy duty bra to manage them, but her cleavage was the most impressive on campus, and it often caught pieces of whatever she was quickly cramming into her mouth. Mouths around her would water as she took a napkin to dab sauce off her big boobs. Her arms had gotten thick bingo wings, and her face had gotten fat, but there was no denying that all eyes were immediately drawn to her chest.

Rounding out the rather round trio was Amelia. And while she didn’t have her fat settle in one particular spot as much as the others, her weight settled in more places giving her a rather outrageous hourglass. She turned heads before she got fat and she turned even more afterward. She was gifted with the three b’s, a big butt, a big belly and big breasts. Her fat made her stacked, and because she managed to go to the gym more than the other two, it remained tighter. Although plenty of people still made fun of her, Amelia knew she was getting plenty of suitors, even more than her two tubby friends, a fact that she secretly enjoyed.

She smiled at them as they all ate together. Of the three, Amelia had grown the fattest face with chubby cheeks and a thick doughy double chin. She loved her food the most, and had probably put on the most weight, so it was helpful for her that it settled more evenly.

There was no turning back now, no dieting in sight. The three of them couldn’t stop going to Thick Burger if they tried, and they had no desire to try. The only thing they wanted to try doing was to stuff themselves more and more. They were on an unending cycle of fattening, and by the time they graduated college, they had a new nickname that would follow their fatasses from that moment forward.

They were the Titanic Trio forevermore.

Teasers: "Fat Trimmings" Volume 20

Hello,

I'm hard at work on "Fat Trimmings" Volume 20. You can expect that it will be released sometime tomorrow evening.

Before then, I have enough of the first three stories that I figured I would share their teasers.

“Twenty Pounds Here and There”: A vain woman struggles through the years of weight creeping on until it's too late to do anything about it.

----------------------------

She didn’t even notice the first twenty pounds really. Sure her pants were getting tighter, but Freshman year of college was such a blur. It was a year of making new friends and partying harder than she had ever thought she would. It was a time when the world was her oyster, and she felt unstoppable, untouchable. 

So she never checked the number creeping up on the scale until it was too late. 

Having been the Queen Been of high school, it was easy enough to believe that she would never gain weight. The mere thought of it seemed like an impossibility to her. Gaining weight was for lesser people. Getting what was for lazy pigs who couldn’t control themselves. That’s why, in her mind, fat people were so worthy of being made fun of, because they could have avoided being fat and chose to be lazy, greedy, cows.

But she never took her own grazing into account, never kept track of the amount of time she was spending snacking, especially now that she didn’t have the watchful eyes of her mother or her cheer coach watching her. She didn’t have to pay for her dining hall meals, so she never tracked just how much food she was eating there and how many trips she was even making. And well…

That adds up.

--------------------------------

“A Little Bit of Magic”: Jealousy leads to an attempt at some magical shenanigans that karmically backfire

--------------------------------

Opal felt a spark. Not a good kind of spark, mind you. No this was the kind of spark that quickly spread throughout her body and ran hot up her neck, making the hairs stand on end. She looked over at Delia, her rival, her best friend, her greatest enemy, and her jaw dropped as Delia’s smile twisted into a sinister grin. That’s when she knew she was truly screwed.

She had thought she was so smart too, she had practiced endlessly, researched the perfect spell, found the perfect moment to do it and quickly and quietly pulled her wand.

For all of their time and school, Opal and Delia had competed to be the most powerful, most beautiful, most popular. The two vain women knew each other better than anyone else. They were a pair, two gorgeous, glamorous girls who felt like they were superior to everyone else while being consumed by a bitter jealousy of each other. And Opal was ready to settle things once and for all. With their senior year of college ending, now was the time. She had Delia right where she wanted her.

She just didn’t expect Delia to be expecting her.

And to have the perfect counter charm prepared.

But now Opal knew exactly what was going to happen to her.

Opal was going to get fat.

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“One of Those Fat Making Notebooks”: Like Death Note, but fat? I think? I've never watched or read Death Note.

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Asami couldn’t believe it. She had actually stumbled upon a notebook that made people fat. It worked like Death Note, but with fat! Debu Note! Just like the videos she had seen. But this was a parody come to life, a weapon of great power at her disposal and ready to humiliate her enemies and achieve her fattening vengeance.

Hell yeah!

Sure, there was probably some kind of gluttony demon attached to this thing, and there were probably some kind of consequences in store for her, but she had never read nor watched enough of Death Note to worry about that kind of thing. Her knowledge of fat making notebooks was exceedingly limited to a couple of Youtube parody videos and an old Fan2000 story that she was only half remembering.

Still, fat making notebooks don’t come around every day. (Maybe every few years perhaps, but certainly not EVERY day.) And she was determined to make the most of it.

First, a test was in order.

As Asami sat her chubby butt on a chair outside the little cafe where she had found the notebook (totally not ominously thrown in the bathroom garbage), she watched a slender woman across from her eat an undressed salad. It was the undressed salad that so easily led Asami to jump to the conclusion that this woman was a skinny bitch, and so she went to work with the notebook.

“The woman sitting across from me and eating an undressed salad will gain ten pounds, mostly to her belly, within the next minute and think this is totally normal,” she wrote. Asami was working under the suspicion that when testing it was always best to be as specific and detailed as possible.

Sure enough, the woman’s slim waist soon began to swell as she gained ten pounds. Her dress stretched to accommodate the growth, most of which landed on her belly and gave her formerly flat stomach a distinctly convex shape. Asami could watch it jiggle as the woman finished her meal and got up to leave. The woman seemed a bit uncomfortable with the tightness of her outfit, and was left somewhat more insecure than she otherwise would have been, but she was not exactly in a panic.

The whole thing made Asami chuckle softly, but it didn’t exactly leave her satisfied. 

“The woman I just made gain weight will gain another fifty pounds over the course of the next year and never be able to lose it,” she wrote with a sinister grin on her face.

And then Asami let the woman go off on her merry way, content to use her imagination to think about what would become of the woman whose life she had changed for the fatter, the self-consciousness, the panic, the failures at dieting and the bursting of clothes. It was an enjoyable taste, but she again needed more.

So she headed off to the modeling agency that she worked as a production assistant at and prepared herself for a feast.

------------------------------------------------

All told there should be four or five stories in this edition. I will likely use some ideas that have been pitched to me for Volume 20 in Volume 21 since I want to get this volume done on time.

Still Looking to Write Your Ideas

Hello,

I am still soliciting story ideas for BOTH “Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts” and “Fat Trimmings” Volume 20. Reminder: The theme for this volume of Exclusive Cuts is role reversals.

Pitch away!

Scenes from a Casual Dining Restaurant: Part 3

Well, I didn't expect year two to take up this whole post and come in at over 3,000 words, but here we are. Clearly this story is going to be longer than planned.

Enjoy!

------------------------------------------

“Oof.”

Judith grunted as she struggled with the button of her work slacks. Working at Roly Oly’s for this long hadn’t been a part of her five year plan. Well, she didn’t actually have a five year plan, but if she had, working this long at Roly Oly’s certainly wouldn’t have been on it.

And yet, here she was, working on her second full year here and working through her second pair of work slacks.

“Maybe I could safety pin it?” Judith whispered to herself.

As her finger slipped and popped off the hanging by a thread button for good, that sealed it. She would need to go shopping for larger pants tomorrow, something she probably should have done a month ago. But for today she would get by with a safety pin and then covering the gap with her work apron. She was thankful for the coverage and the far more forgiving apron strings.

The pants would still be a problem, and she would need to be careful during the night, but she didn’t feel like they were going to burst at any moment. The apron offered good cover, and she didn’t feel like her ass was in danger of blowing out any seams. She wasn’t Corinne.

The hostess with the mostest had put on a bit of weight this year as well, and most of that weight had gone straight to her ass. For the moment, it was doing her a lot of favors. Corinne was always used to being the center of attention, and that became even more true as her ass grew. It was always curvy, but this new swelling of her cheeks really pulled the fabrics of her outfits tight. Often, this was in the best way possible. Sometimes, this had required Corinne to go up a size or two. And on rare occasions, it had caused her to have a few wardrobe malfunctions, though Judith had only been privy to one of them.

It was at the company Christmas party.

Corinne had came dressed in a slutty Mrs. Claus outfit, and took full advantage of the feast that Ophelia and the rest of the kitchen crew had put together as well as the very open bar. And sure enough, midway through the night as Corinne was gyrating on the impromptu dance floor, her skirt popped off thanks to her widened hips, and as she bent down to pick it up the safety shorts she was wearing underneath it split right down the middle. That was followed by a raucous amount of laughter from the other attendees, Judith included.

And what followed after that was weeks of dieting. Corinne had never imagined she would be one of those people that made a New Year’s resolution to lose weight, but that’s what she found herself doing, and it went pretty well for a while.

But now, come Valentine’s Day, Corinne’s diet, something she had never been used to doing before, had been broken, and the pounds had started to creep back on again, packing her pants with two chunky cheeks. Still, her recent success at losing weight, made it easy for Corinne to ignore the fact that she was putting it back on, and, after a few weeks of eating humble pie, she was back on her arrogant warpath.

“Samir, I told you to keep your fat ass out of the way!” she yelled as she strut past the obese line chef with her own chubby cheeks bouncing up and down.

“Jeez, Corinne seems like even more of a bitch than usual.” huffed Judith as she tentatively released her belly to make sure that the safety pin would hold.

“Maybe I should get her the chocolate mousse I made a little earlier. She might be cranky cause her blood sugar’s low.” laughed Ophelia.

“I wish she’d just give up that diet for good. It would be better for the rest of us,” sighed Judith.

“Plus she’d be fat and that would be fun.”

“I’d love it if the hostess with the mostess got fat. Her butt would get huge and split some more pants.”

“The hostess with the most ass!”

The two friends continued to laugh to themselves unheard by Corinne who was already mostly out of the kitchen and distracted by Rodrigo, one of the bus boys.

“Hey, mami. You got a rockin ass. You wanna get out of here after this?”

Corinne stomped her foot, sending a quiver through her softened thigh, and shot daggers through Rodrigo with her eyes.

“Hey Rod, fuck you. An ass like this doesn’t get with a guy like you. I’m going places. Got it? So shut your mouth whenever you see me or I’m putting one of my heels up your ass.”

With that Corinne mad her way to the front of house. Along the way, she pulled at the back of her skirt and promised herself that she would limit herself to just one serving of chocolate mousse later…. Two tops.

Corinne couldn’t help but daydream as she stood behind her podium waiting for guests to arrive. Standing here hadn’t been part of the plan. Her career as a model/actress/influencer/general superstar should have taken off by now, and the fact that it hadn’t was beginning to put a few cracks in Corinne’s previously unbreakable ego.

As Corinne’s mind drifted off she imagined a future version of herself still stuck in her small apartment struggling to get by as a model and actress mostly because she had grown too fat and lazy. Corinne saw herself waddling about in a pair of worn out gray sweatshorts stretched far too tight against titanic ass cheeks, so tight that she could see the dimples of her cellulite through the fabric. Her ass was so big that her blubbery cheeks were spilling out of the shorts and giving her a case of permanent plummer’s crack. 

The bottoms were also starting to crest out of the legs of her frayed shorts, though they were stuck competing with her tree trunk thighs, massive pillars of quiver flesh slapping and rubbing together as she waddled from her semi-permanent spot on the couch to her kitchen to once again get more snacks to stuff her greedy face with. She saw herself with a fierce set of stretch mark and cellulite covered thunder thighs, each one far bigger than her waist used to be.

And that waist had blown outward with thick juicy love handles and an incredibly large and lazy gut that hung out from below her food stained tank top. The lower roll of her spongy double belly was marred by stretch marks and hung low. It quivered with every little move her big fat body made. It was a heavy mass weighing her down in front but nicely countered by the even large weight of her wideload, dump truck ass.

In this envisioned future, Corinne’s breasts had grown into big sagging udders, she had fat pillowy arms complete with jiggly bingo wings. And even her face was fat, fat and tired with multiple chins and jiggly jowls. She looked flushed from the slightest exertion, her face growing pinker in hue and adding to her piggish appearance.

“Ey, you got a table?”

Corinne’s daydream was interrupted by Eddie O’Leary. 

She shook her head and nodded, and as she reached for the menus, she realized that she had wrappers left at her station after eating several chocolate after dinner mints without even realizing it.

Eddie had seen better days. The stresses of the last year and his on again off again relationship with his wife Brenda had left the pretty boy looking pretty paunchy. Eddie was the kind of guy used to being a big shot, always in control, and he was too vain to change his clothes just yet. This meant that his paunch was unflatteringly highlighted by his far too tight shirt which was awkwardly punched in the pants that he was straining to stay fitting into. When combined with the start of receding hairline, this gave him much more of a used car salesman vibe than he was used to. As he wiped the sweat from his brow he also remembered that he had called for a table out of habit, but as of two last nights again he and Brenda were officially on the outs again.

“Oh uh, actually, I’m just gonna sit at the bar,” Eddie muttered and hung his head giving himself a bit of a double chin as he sighed.

Eddie wasn’t at the bar very long when he heard it.

“Oh no need honey, we’re just gonna have a seat at the bar.”

The distinct nasally Staten Island accent of his wife Brenda.

Brenda had also put on a fair bit of weight in the last year, no longer the sculpted hard body she used to be. But she was far better off with the added pounds than Eddie was. Whereas Eddie’s paunchy form made him look rather schlubby, Brenda’s weight gain only enhanced her curves, giving her a perfect hourglass figure.

She was dressed to the nines in a killer pair of heels and a skintight silver dress that hugged every inch of her curvy body. Brenda’s thick thighs were on display as the dress barely came down below her full, ripe, peach on an ass. Two swollen cheeks threatened to pop out the bottom of the dress and flash the whole world. Brenda’s ass had expanded into two billowing basketballs supporting by wide hips. Those hips were so wide that they allowed Brenda to keep her hourglass figure going despite the fact that her middle was not nearly as trim as it used to be.

Brenda’s middle had indeed gotten quite soft with some little love handles starting to form, but what stuck out the most, quite literally, was the start of a generously swelling pot belly. The fabric of the dress perfectly formed around her spongy middle to showcase the pudgy paunch and tease its potential to grow so much bigger.

Now, to maintain an hourglass figure, one needs to be stacked both below and up top, and to have an hourglass with the kind of bulging gut that Brenda was growing she needed to be stacking even more. Lucky for Brenda, she was working with a full library up top. Her gigantic breasts were swelling out of her bra and barely contained by the already purposefully low cut dress. They were massive and ready for motorboating. Her bountiful breasts bounced seductively with each step in rhythm with her ass and belly. She was hypnotic as she walked into Roly Oly’s.

Of course, Eddie’s eyes landed on her breasts but quickly went to the male companion that was hanging onto her softer arm. He was a stocky fellow, a good deal shorter than Brenda thanks to her high heels and big hair. Eddie glared at him with his teeth grinding together like gears as he worked through in his mind exactly how he wanted to tell them to go fuck themselves.

“Give me a beer,” he said to John at the bar instead.

“Such sparkling repartee. What a wonderful treat of an evening I’m in for,” said John with a roll of his eyes as he pulled the beer.

Eddie was beginning to chug his beer as Brenda sashayed over to the bar.

“Oh hey, Eddie. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh shut up, Brenda. You bringing this toad around here tryin’ to make me jealous or something?”

“Can it, Eddie. At least he knows how to treat a lady.”

“You gonna bring this putz here, cheatin’ on me, and taunton’ me right in my face?”

“Oh please, like you weren’t steppin’ out here lookin’ for tail. Screw off, Eddie.”

“Screw off, Brenda.”

John had to admit, he thought it was weirdly cute how the two lovebirds couldn’t bring themselves to say the f word directly to each other.

“Alright, you three. Play nice or get out,” he said as he laid down three more beers in front of them.

And that was how the rest of their evening played out, Brenda and Eddie sniped for a long while even over mozzarella sticks, and onions rings, and loaded french fries. They each ordered a big burger and complained about each other to each other with their mouths full. A whole year’s worth of grievances were aired between the two of them while Brenda’s ate his burger and picked at whatever french fries Brenda didn’t take for herself.

Eventually, when the man had had enough of Eddie’s jawing and finally decided to say something, it as his jaw that forcefully met Eddie’s fist.

“Oh, Eddie!” shouted Brenda with a voice tinged with glee.

“Alright, looks like we finally chose the get out option. Took longer than I thought, honestly.” sighed John as he rung Brenda and Eddie up and threw them out of the bar.

Brenda looked down at her date who was still trying to pull himself back together.

“See ya, loser. I’m goin’ home with a real man.”

As they left together, Eddie sunk his hand into the fat around Brenda’s waist as he pulled her close. Their chubby bodies pressed together and jiggled simulataneously as he nobbled on her earlobe.

“Hey, babe. Before we head home, what do you say to stoppin’ off somewhere for dessert?”

“Sounds delicious.”

Meanwhile, Judith was serving her favorite regulars, the impressively obese Jake and Alexa who were working their way through multiple courses of Ophelia’s outstanding food. They were straining their outfits and their chairs as they ate, and ate, and ate. Judith had dollar signs in her eyes as she thought of the immense tip she was going to make from this table alone, and she didn’t have to deal with Brenda and Eddie which meant she was so far headache free. It was turning out to be a wonderful evening.

And then the real show walked in.

Sabrina’s thighs were oozing out of her fishnets. They quivered as her combat boots hit the ground almost as if she was purposefully striking a pose when she entered Roly Oly’s, and that quiver worked its way all the way up to her midsection. Sabrina had certainly put on a significant amount of weight since the last time Judith saw her, and she certainly wasn’t expecting to see her again let alone looking like this.

Sabrina’s thighs were the only thing that was thick about her. She had grown a pretty decent starter pot belly, a squishy thing that had plenty of bounce to it in its own right, but it was dwarfed by her biggest feature. While the rest of Sabrina’s body had gotten soft, borderline chubby, it was clear that she was a punk rock pair, and her plump ass was the perfect piece of evidence.

Those juicy cheeks filled her leather skirt, an outrageous choice for a midwinter night unless she was hoping for the blubber on her bloated lower half keeping her warm. They were soft and spongy, and if they were not contained by the constraining leather garment, they would be bouncing and jiggling all over the place.

Corinne looked at Sabrina with distinct disdain as she led her to a table in Judith’s section. Judith thought that maybe Corinne was jealous of a hot chick having a bigger ass than hers.

Judith had barely gotten Sabrina her whiskey neat when Sabrina’s date walked in, and Judith once again had her jaw drop. 

It was Martha, and not only was it surprising that she was here, but it was shocking to see how much weight she had put on.

Martha entered Roly Oly’s with a big rolling pot belly that announced her presence. It was a jiggling mass of fat that was causing her sweater to ride up and could even be seen peaking out between the buttons of her blouse. Judith would have been certain she was pregnant if it didn’t have such a pronounced jiggle as she walked, a jiggle that was matched by the other most noticeable parts of Martha’s weight gain.

Martha had massive mammaries. Her breasts had swollen up to quite a large size, and once Martha got to her table, Judith could spy that the top of her sweater was indeed missing a button that must have been blown off at some point, and the next button down was working overtime to keep her breasts in check. The otherwise conservative chick was certainly bulging out of her outfit which looked uncomfortably tight and almost as if she was wearing it this way on purpose. Like Sabrina, Martha had gotten fairly chubby all over, but she was clearly an apple shaped chunker.

Any thought of Martha being pregnant was quickly put off once she ordered herself a beer thus confirming that she had just gone and grown a gut. Judith hurried off to fetch it, not wanting to miss eavesdropping on too much of Martha and Sabrina’s conversation.

Sabrina took a long sip of her whiskey as she stared at Martha’s cleavage. Her hand pressed into her chubby thigh, pinching her flabby flesh as she tried to keep herself together.

“Gotta be honest. I did not think you would say yes.”

“And yet here we are,” smiled Martha as she caught Sabrina staring.

She leaned forward to give Sabrina an even better show.

Sabrina leaned over to meet her. Her hand was practically trembling she brought it to rest on top of her Martha’s

“Here we are.”

Her stare still lingered. No matter how much 

“You’re looking….”

“Don’t be rude,” said Martha with a playful wag of her finger as she pulled her hand away.

“Right. Anyway…. What do you think of…”

This time Sabrina’s showmanship took over as she got up from the table and spun herself around so Martha could get a good look at Sabrina’s thick thighs and bulbous butt.

“All of this?”

She gave her thigh a slap, and Martha gasped. She looked around a bit nervous that others were taking in the show that Sabrina was putting on.

“You’re looking….”

“You can say it. I don’t mind. Go ahead. Be as rude as you want. I’m looking….”

“Voluptuous.”

“Fat. I’m looking fat.”

She slapped her ass this time.

“I wouldn’t call you fat,” teased Martha.

“You wouldn’t?” asked Sbarina is she slid her well cushioned rear end back into her seat.

“No.”

Sabrina leaned forward again and gave a pout that produced a small double chin.

“Then what would you call me?”

“I just told you. Voluptuous.”

“Mmmm… voluptuous. Sounds yummy.”

“And maybe a bit chubby, teased Martha as she bit her bottom lip.

“Chubby. Now that is yummy. You really think I’m chubby?”

The two were both breathing heavily, Martha’s massive chest was heaving up and down as the two leaned across the table toward each other again.

“You’re certainly getting chubby.”

“I better be careful then. Chubby is one step away from being-”

“Fat,” Martha moaned.

“Fat. You think I’m getting fat?” Now it was Sabrina’s turn to crank up the teasing. She watched eagerly with a wolfish grin as Martha slid one hand below the table.

“I think you might be getting fat,” Martha moaned as she pulled away with a sheepish nod and smile.

“I think you might be right. So what do you think?”

Martha leaned back in her chair to try and catch her breath.

“I think we should order our food.”

Sabrina slammed her hands on the table.

“Hell yeah.”

Updates and Tentative Release Schedule

Hello Everyone,

First of all, I would like to thank you all for your amazing support. This patreon has seen some astounding growth so far this month. It hit the milestone of 50 actively subscribed members at the same time and then flew right to 60. That's amazing! The more patrons I have supporting me, the more I can afford to potentially pass up gig work and dedicate that time to creating more content here.

I wanted to take some time now to talk a bit about what I've got coming up and when you can generally expect it.

This week: I have already published "Fat Trimmings" Volume 19. Sometime this week, I will also be posting the next part of "Scenes from a Casual Dining Restaurant". Some of you may be expecting "Nightmare Pigs" since I usually alternate weeks between that and "Scales of Time". "Scenes" is taking its place this week because:

1. I need to start finishing this piece since it was originally meant to be a smaller commission and has gone way past my time table. And I've been putting it off as it is. It is a more difficult piece for me to write since it requires some writing muscles I don't stretch as often. That means I really need to set aside some time dedicated to working on it. The story is meant to take place over five years. The first two parts covered year one. I expect this story to have two more parts with this next installment covering years two and three.

2. The next chapter of "Nightmare Pigs" is going to be the climax and needs more time dedicated to it to really make it everything I want it to be.

Next week: "Fat Trimmings" Volume 20 drops. I started soliciting ideas for that today. I am aiming to have this be an extra large edition. I am also planning on dropping the next chapter of "Nightmare Pigs" this will be the climax of the story, the transformation of the Queen Bee, Jennifer Russel. It will not be the finale of the story however as there will still be a forthcoming epilogue with all the girls together.

The week of 4/28: I'm not planning on slowing down with "Fat Trimmings". Volume 21 will drop on the 30th. This will likely be a bit on the smaller end because I'm going to have to focus on the two other projects I hope to release that week.

"The Scales of Time" will have a new part released during this week. It will be an interlude taking the reader through Vivian's thoughts and her new memories. I know people are eager to get to what is happening between Vivian and Julie and see how Julie will pull victory from the jaws of defeat, but that will take a little longer to get to. I'm doing this for three reasons.

1. I've been wanting to do a Vivian centric interlude for quite a while. I've been looking for a time to really delve into just Vivian's thoughts and motivations and such, and this is my last real chance to do that. Narratively, it also make sense to put it here to stretch the tension a bit more. 2. Full disclosure, I also want to stretch out "Scales of Time" a bit more because it is so much fun to write and I want to keep doing some, and it is also the biggest driver of patrons to my patreon, that and teasers which I aim to do more of. I promise that taking you through Vivian's memories will be worth it because there will be lots of description and fat talk. 3. This part of "Scales" will likely be a shorter chapter and easier to write which will allow me to put more focus on the next project I hope to release this week.

"Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts" Volume 7 should hopefully be released during this week of 4/28. It will feature stories based on the theme of role reversal, and I am still soliciting ideas from patrons for it. Also, be on the lookout for a poll that will ask if you would like to have this volume released like last time, a story at a time and then all collected, or all at once. Full disclosure with this volume: Two of the stories will technically only be semi-exclusive. One story will be voted on by patrons and will be shared on Deviant Art but will also get an additional purely exclusive cut here. The second story will be a story that I am having people on Deviant Art suggest as a celebration of reaching 500 watchers. All told, I am hoping to get 7 stories in this collection.

Bare in mind, release times are subject to change based on my schedule and tings that might come up out of my control. volume 7 of "Exclusive Cuts" is the most likely to move based purely on the amount of content that I aim to fill it with.

Thanks for reading this very long update. I hope you found it useful, and thank you once again for your continued support. I really appreciate it. And as always...

Enjoy!

Call for Suggestions: "Fat Trimmings" Volume 20 XL Edition

Hello,

As I continue to take story submission ideas for Volume 7 of Exclusive Cuts (the ones I've gotten have been great so far), I realized that next Tuesday's edition of "Fat Trimmings" is in fat Volume 20, and I feel like Volume 20 should be an extra large edition because, ya know, 20 feels like a significant number.

That means I need ideas! So please go ahead and pitch me your story ideas below. Keep in mind that the goal for "Fat Trimmings" stories is to come in between 500 and 1,000is (often higher) words. They can vary. If you've read Volume 19 you'll note that "The Big 5-0" is a third person scene with an unnamed character examining herself in the mirror whereas "Won't You Get Fat For Me?" is a first person one sided conversation between a feeder and potential feedee. Both of these are basically singular scenes, and "Won't You Get Fat For Me?" comes in at under 650 words.

"A Little Bit of a Lesson" is a longer (but still condensed) narrative. It came in at almost 1,200 words.

So what I'm saying is, I'm looking for diversity in story ideas and things that can be written from multiple directions and at multiple lengths. They can be scenes or fuller narratives, ideas that I can do quickly and hit 500 words as well as things that will successfully top out around 1,200.

Pitch away, as many as you want. If I don't use them in 20, I'm likely to use them in another one.

"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”

-----------------------

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.

---------------------------------

“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.

---------------------------------

“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?)

Suggest Some Stories: Give Me Role Reversal Ideas To Write

Role Reversal! That's the theme for the next round of Exclusive Cuts stories. I was going to leave the poll open until tonight, but with 34 votes (our most active poll yet!) I think it's safe to go ahead and call this one as role reversal won by a landslide.

So now you, my wonderful patrons, get to suggest some stories based on the theme of role reversal that I will then write about for the next round of Exclusive Cuts which will live right here on patreon. (Although based on patron feedback, I may actually release one story from the bunch as essentially an ad for the Patreon, but if I decide to do that it will mean 1. An extra long version of exclusive cuts with someone sort of extra long or otherwise alternate cut of the story to keep it exclusive and make sure patrons get their money's worth and 2. Patrons will get to choose the story I share.)

But hey, let's cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, suggest your ideas in the comments below.

BONUS SUGGESTION CALL: For early birds, you can also suggest ideas that fit the other categories from the poll. There is a chance I'll still be able to write an idea or two for "Fat Trimmings" tomorrow.

Minor "Fat Trimmings Teaser": The first story of "Fat Trimmings" will be entitled "The Big 5-0". It is inspired by two things: 1. Getting to 50 active paid patrons at the same time. 2. My desire to try my hand at some more "smaller" realistic weight gain.

Here's some of that story:

Enjoy!

“The Big 5-0”

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.

EXCLUSIVE: The Scales of Time SLOB CUT (Chapters 7-10)

Hello!

We recently reached a milestone of having 50 paying patrons at the same time, and I wanted to celebrate that. As thanks for your support, I put together this patreon exclusive slob cut of the Scales of Time, chapters 7-10. For those of you who enjoy that kind of thing, I think you'll really like this. Vivian gets very sloppy. And there's over 1,600 extra words of slob content.

For those of you who have no interest in slob stuff, that's totally fair, and I still thank you for your support. You all mean a lot to me and help me continue to both engage in this wonderful hobby and pay a few bills. Thanks!

Enjoy

The Scales of Time: Chapter 10

Ain't much to say here. This chapter weighs in at over 3,600 words. Lots of description and fat talk as Julie finally gets to really lace into Vivian.

Let's get into it.

Enjoy!

-------------------------------------

The crowd gasped at the immensity of Vivian, and Julie could hear the heavy breathing of her opponent. Vivian was fat. Julie knew that, but she didn’t have the chance to see just how fat she was because she was too transfixed by the changes in her own body.

Julie was still fat. In fact, she was still obese. She still had a big belly and flabby thighs that rubbed together and titanic tits to match her wide, blubbery butt. But compared to where she was, it was night and day.

She must have lost almost if not over two hundred pounds!

It is really saying something about how fat Julie was at the start of the challenge to note that she had lost two hundred pounds and was still nowhere near what one would consider thin, and Julie knew that. She knew that her weight was still hovering somewhere near three hundred pounds. But Julie was over the moon, and more than losing weight, she had found a confidence in herself that she never knew that she had. She felt like she could absolutely rock this body, like she could own it and turn heads in her direction. She felt like an absolute queen ready to rule, and she loved it. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she loved herself.

And she also loved what had happened to Vivian.

Julie noted with delight that Vivian looked like she must weigh around if not exactly the same as her! And whereas Julie had gained a lot more shape and muscle as she slimmed down, Vivian’s muscles had completely atrophied making her look far softer, saggier, and rounded than Julie did. She looked down down at Vivian’s fat feet now wearing ruddy old mud caked sneakers, and began her inspection from the bottom up.

Vivian’s legs had grown to tremendous proportions. Each one dwarfed the size of what her tiny pencil thin waist used to be. Back before Julie meddled with time, Vivian’s legs were lean, limber, and athletic. She was both spritely and powerful, but as Julie looked at Vivian’s legs now she could see nothing but blubber.

Further machinations with time and magic had apparently caused Vivian to have a change in outfit. She was no longer clad in her leather pants which Julie thought was a real shame because she would have loved to see what Vivian’s massively fat body looked like straining against leather. However, Vivian’s current outfit gave a view that was perfectly enjoyable in its own way. The stunningly obese Vivian was clad in ill-fitting shorts, presumably to help her deal with the extra body heat her fat was making her deal with. The bonus to Julie was that most of Vivian’s thighs were fully exposed, so she got a real good look at the quivering flesh, complete with a view of their thoroughly cottage cheese-like texture. Vivian’s thighs were so voluminous and so soft that the fat was beginning to roll over her knees. Julie immediately got a thrill thinking about defeating Vivian and fattening her further until that fat was cascading over her knees like waterfalls of adipose.

As things stood now, Vivian’s stance was wide indeed. Her tree trunk thighs forced her legs apart and she looked under steady as she stood there still getting used to her obese body resting on her weak, fatty legs. She could tell that Vivian was having a hard time standing because Vivian’s cankles were extra red and swollen. Julie chuckled to herself as she watched Vivian drop one chubby hand to her side and give the pale, flabby flesh a squeeze as if to ensure that this was all really here and all really her.

And Vivian’s thighs weren’t even the fattest part of her.  That particular accolade was shared between her gargantuan gut and broken down dump truck ass.

Vivian’s big fat ass was made of two sagging sand filled balloons. The incredible amount of fat that filled them was soft and shapeless giving Vivian’s chunky caboose the appearance of a collapsing shelf of fat. Each blubbery ass cheek could fit its own chair, and Julie reached into her mind to pull out hilarious new memories of Vivian struggling to fit into desks wit her fat constantly hanging over the sides. Soon she would need to use the specially made desks that Julie used to be forced to humiliate herself with. Hell, Julie imagined Julie’s ass growing too big even for that. If Vivian were to ever sit in a class again she’d need her own table and two chairs to sit on.

Julie moaned at the idea of Vivian growing so fat that not only would her ass take up both chairs, it would spill over the sides of those two chairs, and then those poor chairs would inevitably creak and break, leading to fat ass Vivian stuck on the floor crying like a big fat baby.

At this moment, Julie got the satisfaction of a confused Vivian stomping around like an elephant in the mud. This made her entire body quiver and bounce with fat sloshing from side to side and up and down, Vivian’s body was so full of fat that when it shook like jello it was hard to take it all in. What Julie chose to focus on was the moment she got to fully see how colossal Vivian’s wide butt was. The pillowy cheeks were spilling out of the bottom of Vivian’s ill fitting shorts which were of course stretched to their limit. Vivian’s ass was so large and stretched them so much that Julie was able to catch a glimpse of Vivian’s ass crack as her cheeks crested like two moons over the horizon of her waistband.

On the opposite side and traveling in the opposite direction, was Vivian’s gelatinous gut. It was a turgid sack of fat that hung out from under the ill-fitting t-shirt she was wearing, an occurrence that Julie surmised would have occurred no matter what shirt Vivian was wearing given the girth of Vivian’s lower belly roll. This meant that Julie could clearly see the angry stretch marks that had grown along the bottom of Vivian’s bulbous belly. The fat of her stretch marked spare tire also undulated with the slightest movement. Her rolls of fat bunched up and bounced from side to side. It was quite the juxtaposition, thinking about how trim and toned Vivian’s belly used to be when compared to the gargantuan gut that now surged out before her.

And yet, Julie could picture it getting even bigger. She felt a moistness between her legs grow as she pictured Vivian at double this weight with double the size of her double belly. She imagined Vivian’s gut grown so large that it hung down almost to her knees, so monumentally huge that it would demand that Vivian’s fat legs spread wide when she sat down to accommodate its girth. She pictured Vivian with a stomach so fat and greedy that she would never be able to satiate it.

Julie grinned with glee at the realization that even Vivian’s arms had gotten sizeably chunky. They were plump marshmallows, weak jiggly limbs full of plush fat and ending in fat clumsy hands. Julie’s grin widened into full Chershire cat levels when she imagined Vivian’s arms growing even fatter, fat to the point that the flab encasing her biceps began to roll over her elbows. She wanted to turn Vivian into a mess of fat rolls, into a full on circus fat lady, the kind of fat person people would pay to gawk at because their size is so remarkable.

The grin remained on Julie’s face as she realized that while Vivian’s breasts had indeed gotten bigger, they were more of an inconvenience than anything else. Their heavy weight and lack of musculature made them sag and added tension to Vivian’s back. And their size was greatly outpaced by the prodigious double belly upon which they sat. Still, Julie enjoyed the idea of them swinging like pendulums at the sides of Julie’s double belly, big unruly udders.

Finally, Julie took in Vivian’s face, her big fat face. It was glorious to see the mix of emotions. Shock, horror, anger, and sadness, all played out on a canvas that was much wider than it used to be. Vivian’s face was a jowly mess with multiple chins drooping down, permanent and prominent fat deposits that wobbled like she was a turkey. Vivian’s bloated face was flushed. She looked tired and confused. Her eyes were trying to ignite with their usual confident spark, but the weight of the challenge so far had clearly left Vivian shell shocked if not completely broken. And Julie wanted to finish the job, she wanted to rob whatever confidence there was left behind Vivian’s eyes.

Julie’s inspection of her opponent was interrupted by Vivian’s own declaration once she had finally gotten her bearings.

“This can’t be happening,” Vivian explained as she pawed at her belly fat with her chubby hand.

Julie watched Vivian knead her lower belly roll in disbelief in one hand while carefully keeping a tight grasp on her wand with the other. She hoped that if she could just fluster Vivian a little more, she might be able to take advantage and disarm her. As a bonus, this also presented Julie with the opportunity to take out years of pent up frustration on the now very voluminous Vivian.

“I’d say the proof is in the pudding, but it looks like you ate it.”

Vivian looked up at Julie while still grasping her thick lower belly roll in her hand. With disdain she let her belly go and tried to straighten up and stand as tall as possible, something that was made difficult by her sagging breasts and big belly pulling her forward.

“I’m Vivian Blake. I’m destined to be the most powerful witch this coven has ever known.”

A spark of Vivian’s confidence almost ignited in her eyes, and Julie was determined to snuff it out.

“Hate to burst your bubble, porkchop, but I think that ship has sailed. I’ve got you right where I want you.”

“You have nothing. This is far from over.”

“Tough talk from someone whose muscles have turned to go. Hey, at least you’re still a big deal, emphasis on the BIG.”

“Y-y-you…”

Vivian’s stammering gave Julie and opening that she aimed to capitalize on. 

“Ya know. I think we could trade clothes now. You want to come raid my closet?”

“Shut up!” Vivian was filled with anger, but her shout lost its bite at the end as her voice broke under the knowledge that she could indeed share a wardrobe with this cow standing in front of her.

“You’re right. My clothes might be a little tight on you.”

“You little bitch,” Vivian snarled through gritted teeth and squeezed her wand so hard that Julie hoped she might snap it.

Filled with the confidence that comes from eliciting such a visceral response, Julie gave a victorious little twirl.

“I have lost weight. Thanks for noticing. I can see you’ve found it all.”

“I hate you.”

“Hey now, fat people are supposed to be jolly. Remember?”

There was the briefest of pauses, and Julie could see that the usually quick witted and barbed tongued Vivian was struggling to formulate a response, so she decided to press her advantage.

“Come on, Tubs. Turn that big fat frown upside down. Give us a laugh. Let’s see that belly jiggle like a bowl full of jelly.”

Vivian was growing more red faced and flustered. Her breathing became more rapid as the previously unknown feeling of anxiety seized her by the neck. 

Julie noticed the irregularity of Vivian’s breathing and wielded it as another dagger as she continued to lace into her fattened rival.

“Oh, I guess it does that just from you standing there breathing, huh? Boy, that gut has gotten soft. I just wanna squeeze it. It must be like a big squishy pillow. Maybe a bit too loose for me though. I usually like a firmer memory foam. I doubt your squishy gut offers enough neck support.”

“I’ll kill you!”

Vivian ran forward and bounced against her own magical barrier before throwing a few frustrated and ultimately fruitless magical blasts Julie way, an action which just caused Julie to chuckle in response.

“Woah. Us fat girls are supposed to stick together. Don’t we?”

Julie’s words were the equivalent of a patronizing pat on the head.

“I mean, I guess for now. I won’t be fat for much longer. And you, you’re going to get a LOT fatter.” She stressed the lot to really drive her point home and make Vivian crazed.

“You’re trying my patience, cur,” Vivian spat

“And your thighs are trying the seams of those sweat shorts, sow.”

“You’re just as fat as-”

The words caught in Vivian’s throat, but didn’t go unnoticed by Julie or the crowd, many of whom could help but laugh along with Julie.

“Ha! Made you say it, fatty. You’re fat. You’re fat. YOU’RE FAAAAAAAAAAT! FAT! Fatty fat fatty! Fatty Boomba Latty!”

Vivian let loose a roar and a mighty blast of arcane energy. With a wave of her hand, Julie reinforced her shield and the magic exploded in a blinding light. When everyone regained their vision it was clear nothing much had actually occurred and the two evenly matched witches were standing fine if slightly sweatier.

“You called me fat for years. Well guess what, you’re fat now, bitch,” said Julie slipping into a mocking British accent.

“Get your laughs in now, you overconfident cow. I still have my wand. I still have time. You will still lose and all these pounds will fall back on you. I’ll fix this whole thing. Just you wait-”

“For your weight to increase even more? I can’t. I’m just so eager to watch you really balloon. You’re going to wish you could be this thin just like I did. Look at me now. Still a fatty right? Remember how fat I was? That will be you soon enough. But you’re right. I do want to wait, just a moment to really savor this, to enjoy the last bit of confidence you still have before I crush you like you deserve. And I want you to feel it too. Do you?”

Vivian trembled. She felt her neck grow hotter because deep down she knew she really was struggling to find whatever confidence she had left. The idea of getting even fatter than she already was paralyzed her with fear, robbed her of her voice and left Julie to twist the knife even further.

“Feel that big heavy belly of yours. Feel it sagging. Feel it pulling you down, throwing you off balance. Feel the hunger that I’m sure is burning you up inside. You’ve got the rumble don’t you? You’ve got the need, the need to feed, you greedy glutton, you stuffed pig. You can deny it all you want, but I know there’s that feeling in the back of your mind that’s constantly wondering about what you next meal will be. It’s distracting isn’t it? You want a snack real bad, don’t you, fatty?”

Without thinking, Vivian’s hand travel to the pocket of her shorts where it fondled a tell-tale bulge, one Julie knew quite well.

“Is that a Snickers in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” She sneered.

Vivian recoiled in horror at the realization that this present version of herself truly had come to the challenge packing a snack like a greedy piglet.

“I’m warning you,” she offered up as a feeble attempt at a threat.

“Oh yeah. You wanna come get me? It’s gonna be real hard for you to chase me down with those thunder thighs getting in your way. Be careful or you’ll start a fire by rubbing those tree trunks together. It must be tough, piggy, to know you’ve got two thick thighs that are each wider than your waist used to be. You used to be so trim and sexy. You used to be able to run for days, and now you look like you’re winded just standing there. I don’t think you could run a block let alone a mile. Me? At least I’m used to this. It’s like I’ve dropped a giant batting doughnut off my waist and I’m ready to take some big swings.”

Vivian couldn’t even respond. She was spending whatever energy she had trying not to openly sob.

“Hey, the good news is that when I send you crashing down for good, you’ll have your big fat cushiony ass to break your fall. Isn’t that great, blubber butt? You’ll be nice and comfy because your ass is your very own beanbag chair. Of course, I doubt your blubbery marshmallow arms aren’t going to be able to pull you back up without plenty of help. You’re definitely a pathetic weakling now, wideload. Good luck getting yourself back up with that huge goddamn dumper weighing you down. You’ll never be queen bee again, I don’t think they make thrones wide enough to fit. You’re a real two seater kind of girl.”

“Fuck you!” exclaimed with a desperate gasp.

“That one really got you, huh? You must have loved your ass, loved turning heads with it. Well, you’ll still turn heads just in the other direction. People will turn and laugh at you, at least the ones that aren’t rude enough to laugh right in your face, and you’ll have to deal with plenty of them because being a fatty like you are sucks. Vain bitchy girls love to prey on fat helpless landwhales like you. You’re a vain girl’s favorite prey just like I was to you back before you became a total cow.”

“Go ahead. Keep talking. Keep running your fucking mouth.”

“Language. Language. Seems I’m hitting a nerve. What’s the matter, losing your cool? I suppose all that extra fat is bound to make you sweat, you hog.”

Julie could see Vivian’s resolve weakening. She gripped her own wand tightly and prepared to level it for the finishing blow. She could do it now, but she faced a moment plagued by both uncertainty and her own desire to keep taunting Vivian, to savor this moment. She just needed to crack Vivian a little more.

“Even your face has gotten so fucking fat from all the food you stuff it with. You’re such a pouty piggy. It’s a really unattractive look for you, hoggy. I gotta say though, I love the way your double chin wobbles when you’re angry.”

“Enough talk!”

“You’re right. It’s been fun, but I think I’m done with this blubber for good. You can have it all and more. Just picture it piling on, filling it up, weighing you down more and more. This is the fat fucking karmic punishment that you deserve.”

Landing on a suitably dramatic line, Julie raised her wand and sent another arcane bolt directly at Vivian to end this once and for all.

With barely enough time to spare, Vivian got her counter charm up in time to deflect the bolt away. As she stood there, tired, heavy, but knowing that Julie had just tried to finish her and failed, a small glimmer of hope began to grow again in Vivian’s eyes. She stood as proudly as she could with her fat, sweaty, mud splattered body and summoned the courage and confidence she had left.

“I’m going to crush you,” she whispered.

It was something about that whisper that sent a chill up Julie’s spine.

“Maybe if you happen to fall on me! Ya walrus!” she tried to yell, but she could tell her words were not filled with the same bravado as before.

“It’s not… it’s not going to happen,” growled Vivian.

“You can’t stop me!” Julie barked. Her voice raised to a volume she had never known before.

And yet, Vivian stood as calm as ever.

It was as if what Julie had said had set the gears in Vivian’s cunning brain turning. Julie could only watch as Vivian’s face regained its normal color, and Vivian’s flustered frown twisted back into a grin.

The runes of time began to glow again and lit Vivian’s fat face from underneath, but even with the double chin, the jowls, the piggish nose, all Julie could see was Vivian’s confident sneer and raised eyebrow.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Vivian whispered and disappeared with a laugh.

Julie was stunned until she heard the ticking in her head. One, two, three, she was already behind.

And then she clicked her watch and vanished.

In an instant, one even quicker than Julie had anticipated, Julie found herself standing on the sidewalk. Her stomach turned as she found herself grasping for exactly where and when she had landed.

The weight in the pit of her stomach grew heavier as the burning realization burnt within.

Julie was standing in front of the dining hall.

She was supposed to be making her way to the contest. She was late!

Julie went to start off in a run, but her foot paused in the air.

“Where do you think you’re going, piggy?” whispered a familiar voice from inside her mind.

Julie tried to put her foot down, to keep heading toward her challenge, but instead she found her body turning itself around. Each of her legs moved of their own accord and sent her trudging back toward the dining hall.

As Julie moved like a puppet on strings, all she could do was listen to the taunting words of Vivian from inside her mind.

“Checkmate, piggy. It’s time to eat.”

Choose the Next Exclusive Cuts Theme. Vote now!

Hello Patrons,

I hope you enjoyed Volume 6 of Exclusive Cuts. Arrogant Athletes was voted on by patrons like you, and now it's time for you to choose what the next theme will be.

Last time we chose the theme based off of types of people, so this time I want to make the choice about the reason for/ type of transformation. I'll keep this poll open till at least the weekend. Based on results, I may need a follow up poll, and once all the polls are done, I'll have a post where you can suggest the story ideas as usual.

Feel free to discuss the topics in the comments below.

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 18

So, I didn't plan on writing over 5,000 words for this, but here we are.

Enjoy.

-------------------------------------------

“A Little Case of the Munchies”

--------------------------------------------

Everyone knows the Munchies. But nobody wants to really KNOW the Munchies personally. Because to really know the Munchies means to get fat.

Really really fat.

“And we sure do love that.”

“Making people fat is tons of fun.”

“And in this story we’ve got two for one.”

“It may be quick, but it’s quite the tale.”

“How we turned these hotties into whales.”

Kayla and Brad were personal trainers who enjoyed showing off and taunting their overweight clients far more than they cared about actually being helpful.

“They were mean, and we don’t like that. So we decided to make them fat. Grow their bellies and thicken their thighs, turn them into what they despise.” 

“Leave them winded. Make them gassed from having to carry around a big fat ass. Something wicked this way comes when it's time for us Munchies to have our fun.”

Kayla and Brad were your stereotypical hotties with hardbodies. Kayla was by no means a body builder, but she did have a strong amount of muscle that added to her glorious curves. She was what people would refer to as slim thick. She was built, but not bulky, but she also had thighs that looked like they could crack a watermelon or your head while you were between them. She loved to wear outfits that showed off her rock hard abs, and her height and musculature gave her an intimidating presence and a confident strut wherever she walked. Kayla had buns of steel too, the kind of curvy ass you could bounce a quarter off of.

“She turned heads with her butt and abs, so we decided to turn them into flab.”

Brad was what many people would refer to as an adonis. He was tall and handsome, a real pretty boy with muscular pecs that taped into a toned waist with a glorious six pack that Brad was immensely proud of. He was an incredibly fit and strong man who loved posing and flexing and generally using his muscles to intimidate others. Brad had a real alpha male energy and loved to strut his stuff.

“He was overconfident with muscles so big, so we decided to turn him into a pig.”

It started simple enough, as it always does. Kayla and Brad found a gallon of ice cream in their fridge that neither of them remembered buying. It was a big tub of chocolate peanut butter ice cream with brownie bites and chocolate fudge chunks in it, an incredibly decadent dessert and the exact kind of thing neither of them would ever indulge in. And yet…. They just couldn’t shake this feeling, like a voice in the back of their heads.

“You’re so thin, proper and neat. You deserve a day to cheat. Go ahead and grab two spoons, you can get back to your diet soon. But for now, give up and give in. Take that tub of ice cream out for a spin.”

And like Adam and Eve, Brad and Kayla eventually gave into temptation and dug into the ice cream with gusto. Before they knew it, it was all gone, and yet in its place were two more gallons they once again had no memory of purchasing along with a box of doughnuts.

“We brought them cookies and chips as snacks.”

“Knowing soon there’d be no turning back.”

The two fit and arrogant personal trainers had let the Munchies in, and once the Munchies start working on you, they can be impossible to get rid of.

“We went to work, and we love our job. We turn vain bitches into blobs.”

It just felt so easy to let their diets slip, and once that happened they lost complete track of what it was they were eating, and thanks to the Munchies what they were eating was a little bit of everything that soon turned into a whole lot of everything. When the food first started showing up, Kayla and Brad each thought the other one bought it. Then eventually they just stopped questioning it all together.

“Obliviousness is always best when we first put your appetites to the test.”

“Don’t ask questions. We don’t like that when we’re trying to make you fat. Just eat what we bring. Don’t think of it.”

“Until your pants no longer fit.”

And it didn’t take long for their pants to stop fitting. Kayla and Brad had their precious hardbodies soften due to all the extra calories the Munchies had them indulging in. And all of the late night binging left them tired and lethargic the next day which meant that they began to slack on their workouts. This led to their figures plumping even fatter even faster.

Kayla’s breasts grew which was a boon to her at first until they started to sag from the soft fat that was starting to fill them, then they just became the cause of new back pain which was a pain in her rapidly softening ass.

For Brad, the softening of his pectoral muscles was a more immediate concern. After his stomach started to bulge, his barrel chest began to sag, and this made for a rather unflattering look.

“First we turned his abs to flab and did a number on his chest. We Munchies love to feed our victims. We always do our best. And soon vain Brad had trouble finding shirts that fit. He found himself popping buttons with his belly and his brand new tits.”

Kayla’s abs softened just like Brad of course. She too grew a jiggly pot belly. Her hips widened and her pert ass grew fat and flabby. The Munchies kept hard at their work and made Kayla and Brad get more and more out of shape. Once Kayla got caught eating doughnuts on the job, that was the end of the line for her at work. Brad was fired soon after when his fat ass split a pair of previously baggy shorts right in front of a client.

And once they were stuck at home living off unemployment, the Munchies knew they really had their victims in their gray and grubby claws. When the Munchies know they have you completely, they finally make themselves known. And you know that you’re really done for once the Munchies start to sing. Kayla and Brad were powerless to resist the Munchies’ siren song.

“You know us. We’re called the Munchies.

We feed you things soft, sweet and crunchy.

We give you so much food to eat

That soon your bellies block your feet.

Give up. Give in. It’s far too late

Just accept, fat is your fate.

Don’t look at us with that frown

Just open wide, time to chow down.”

“Here’s some pizza. Here’s some fries.

Here’s some more meat on your thighs.

Growing fat, you’ve got big guts

And flabby, wobbling blubber butts.

You once were thin, but that’s no more

And we’ve got so much still in store.

So come and eat what’s on your plate

As you become just what you hate.”

“Stuff your face. You’ve grown so big.

We have turned you into pigs.

You need more food. You don’t care how

Which is why you’re both now cows.

Eat your slop. It slides right down

And helps your grow nice and round

All this food sure is yummy,

Making for some plush new tummies.”

“Don’t try to leave. Sit on your rump.

We won’t settle for you plump.

We want your butts stuck in your chairs

As you live out your nightmare

When we leave grow fatter still

Now that we’ve broken your will.

But our work will never cease

Until you’re both hopelessly obese.”

And that’s exactly what happened. Thanks to the Munchies and their insidious influence, Kayla and Brad became fatter than anyone ever could have imagined. They went from being incredibly fit individuals to big blubbery blobs, morbid obese slobs. For a while when they were still going out they felt the scorn of their still fit friends. Their downfall was the talk of the town, and people got a great chuckle out of just how fat they had gotten.

“Their bloated bodies made them feel quite low.”

“Especially once their friends starting making fun of them for letting themselves go.”

“And yet we knew they still had room to grow.”

“Except in their pants. Those were about to blow.”

By the time the Munchies were done with them, Kayla and Brad had gone from active vain hotties to obese shut-ins, slobs wallowing in their filthy pigsty of an apartment and government assistance, and the occasional visit from the Munchies, just to get by.

Kayla and Brad were eventually trapped by their endless flab, great round ponderous bellies that hung out underneath any shirts they tried to wear, big saggy stretch marked tits for the both of them, and fat flabby asses that got stuck in whatever chairs they didn’t break. 

They’ve gotten so wide that each of their ass cheeks needed its own chair. They are pathetically weak individuals with insatiable appetites constantly hungry for more. They are greedy gluttons who still stuff themselves like pigs, Kayla and Brad have grown fat enough to be unrecognizable with their life of fitness far behind them.

“It must be easy to be so mean

When you’re sitting behind a screen

New stories start when one is done

And we Munchies will have our fun

And the lesson you must learn

For it has since become your turn”

“Eat the junk you know you want to.

Soon your muscles will turn to goo

And there’s nothing much that you can do

Now that the Munchies have come for you.”

------------------------------------

“Sized Up”

------------------------------------

Alana was a brat, a straight up bitch in heels who wielded daddy’s credit card like a weapon. Fresh out of college and full of the confidence that comes from having a young, smoking hot body and all of her rich father’s money at her disposal, Alana knew that the world was her oyster as she strutted her way through the mall for another spree of spending.

She loved the way she felt her tight but curvy body draw stares from men and woman alike. She could sense their salivating, their desire, their jealousy. It was ambrosia to this young goddess, this cruel vixen. She loved to let them stare and leave them wanting more.

And Alana had plenty for them to stare at. In a bright pink maxi dress that hugged her curves, she cut quite the figure. The fabric pulled taut around her tiny waist and taught ass. She loved people looking at her perfect heart shaped ass. Her plush but perky rear, when paired with her slim middle and the breasts that were paid for by her family, gave Alana the perfect hourglass figure. She worked it as she worked her way through the mall looking for a place to let loose and spend her father’s money.

Katrina’s Closet.

“Hmmm.”

That was a new place to be sure. It seemed like some kind of small boutique store that Alana had somehow never been to before, and she felt herself strangely drawn to it, as if there was some sort of string pulling at her, reeling her in. As she got to the door she bumped into a large older woman whose flabby love handles almost sent Alana flying upon collision. 

“Watch where you’re going, you fugly cow.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are, you fat old hag, you bloated sow. Why are you even bothering shopping here? I’m sure they don’t have anything in your mammoth size, you whale.”

The fat older woman was a sad middle aged lady named Eleanor, who was a tired old spinster who was certain her best days (which hadn’t even been that good) were behind. She was a kindly woman who volunteered at her local animal shelter when she wasn’t working as a nurse, and on a rare day that she decided to treat herself, she too felt herself drawn to Katrina’s Closet.

Having accidentally knocked Alana out of the way, Eleanor was free to enter the store first where she was greeted by a rather chubby gothic looking saleswoman.

“Hello there, ma’am. How can I help you?”

“Excuse you!” shouted Alana as she barged into the store.

“I was here first, and I demand to be served first.”

“Miss, if you’ll just wait one mo-”

“I will not wait. Who are you?”

“Mathilde.”

“Listen, Matilda.”

“Thil.”

“What?”

“Thil. Mathilde, not Matilda.”

“I don’t care. I’m a very important person. Very rich. Ready to spend. You need me here. So waddle your fat ass away from here and fetch me your manager.”

“Yeah. You know what? I don’t need to deal with this shit.” Mathilde said before turning back to Eleanor.

“Ma’am. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but if you wait in one of our dressing rooms, I’ll be able to serve you in a few moments.”

Eleanor simply smiled and nodded and waddled off to the nearest dressing room while Mathilde waddled off to get her manager, Gwendolyyn. Gwen looked like a ray of sunshine compared to Mathilde’s gothic vibe.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes.” Alana barked.

“Who are you?”

“Gwendolyyn.”

“Gwendolynn.”

“Line. Not Lin.”

“I don’t care. I demand to be served and not by your little piggy salesgirl.”

Gwendolyyn adjusted her glasses on her nose.

“Of course, miss.” Gwen said as she smiled through gritted teeth.

“Just go ahead and wait in the next available dressing room, and I’ll personally make some selections.”

Alana twirled around without another word and strutted toward the dressing room.

Gwendolyyn flagged down Mathilde.

“Let’s get them both the dress.”

“Oh, we haven’t done that in a while.”

“Yes. And I think it’s the perfect time to give it another spin.”

“You got it boss.”

Two minutes later, Mathilde was handing Eleanor a slinky bright red gown with a high collar.

“Oh, this can’t possibly fit me,” Eleanor blushed.

“Don’t worry ma’am. It’s one size fits all,” Mathilde winked.

Next door, Gwendolyyn handed Alana the identical dress.

“I have to admit. This is pretty stunning. I suppose you have some modicum of taste.”

“Thank you. I’m sure you’ll find it very fitting.”

As soon as Gwendolyyn left the changing room, Alana stripped off her clothes, took a moment to admire her perfectly sculpted body in the mirror, blew herself a kiss, and then slipped on the dress.

It fit perfectly, hugged her figure just like Alana imagined it would and made her look distinctly glamorous.

And then it started to get tight. 

Alana barely noticed it at first, just a little bit of straining in this hips area, but then when her flat tummy started to swell, Alana’s eyes lit up with concern.  Suddenly, she looked as if she was three months pregnant with the dress pulled tight against her bulging stomach. Somehow, Alana was both horrified and relieved when she put her hands to her stomach and found it not to be a solid drum to but be a squishy sponge of-

“Fat?! No no no no no. Fat? That can’t be. That can’t….”

She began to sweat as she kneaded her stomach fat. She squeezed the fat, slapped the fat, shook, poked and prodded the fat. It was this completely alien substance that both terrified and fascinated her as she continued to examine and experiment with its softness in disbelief. But as she continued to bounce, pinch, and jiggle the fat gathering around her waist, she came to two terrible realizations: this turgid fat bulging from her middle did indeed belong to her, and it was getting bigger!

Even as she squeezed it the flesh kept coming, and her bulging potbelly continued to blossom despite her best efforts to push the blubber back into her body. Any sign of tightness in her middle was quickly gone as her waist continued to expand, bowing outward with a pair of thick love handles that strained the sides of the dress until-

Riiiiiiiipppppp

Alana could hear the two small tears first before she saw the flabby flesh oozing through the holes. She screamed in vain as her body continued to expand, rapidly filling with fat. Her previously tapered waist was now a big barrel of fat, and a broken one at that with the fat spilling out of the tears in the dress, tears that were certain to get bigger as she continued to get fatter.

And that fat didn’t just limit itself to her midsection.

The fat began to spread widening her hips further and swelling her thighs. She felt her thighs getting chunky and pressing together as the fat filled them like tubes of flabby flesh. Her thighs strained the dress further and she cringed as she heard the tears in the dress continue to widen stitch by stitch while the pounds piled on.

She felt her ass getting fatter, wider, becoming a jiggling mess that eventually caused another split down the back of the dress as it grew like a shelf of fat. Her prized possession swelled in her hands. She could feel the immense weight of each of her expanding ass cheeks. Both swelled like basketballs but grew soft like heavy pillows, and the fat squished through her fingers as she cried.

As she continued to grow down below, Alana suddenly felt a looseness in the top of her dress. Her hands flew in a panic to her chest where she found that her perfect bought and paid for breasts had disappeared. As she groped her suddenly flattened chest, she began to heave with anxiety.

Then her chest began to grow again. And for a moment, Alana was relieved until she realized that what was filling her chest was not the firm silicon implants she had enjoyed but instead soft and sagging fat, and it was not filling her top nearly as quickly as the rest of her was filling out.

Rrrrrrriiiiiippppppppp

Alana could feel more seams popping as her arms grew thick. Her muscles were replaced by fluffy fat that pressed against the sleeves of her dress and looked like overstuffed sausages that eventually split their casings. The dress tore at the sleeves and revealed the hamhocks that had replaced Alana’s previously toned and slender limbs.

Even the high collar of the dress grew tighter as Alana could feel her neck getting thicker, fatter. She tore at the collar and the rest of the dress finally gave way with it. As Alana cast the tattered garment away, she scream again at the sight of her formerly svelte figure. Her bloated body was now full of blubber, made of sagging fat folds everywhere. She was not just fat, she was morbidly obese and still growing!

And she was clad, not in her previously silky and sexy underwear but a set of very plain and ill fitting cotton bra and granny panties. She looked like someone who had been a couch potato for far longer than her twenty-two years. Her blubbery body was covered in stretch marks, cellulite, and spider veins, and as she looked at the backs of her newly chubby hands she realized that they seemed to have the start of age spots and crepey skin.

Then her face began to change.

As Alana looked at her reflection in the mirror, the last of her defined features gave way as her face began to fill with fat, erasing any semblance of cheek bones as they were replaced by jiggling jowls and a doughy double chin that sprouted a few stray hairs. Alana grew distinct frown lines around her mouth, crows feet near her eyes and a permanent crease in her brow. Her hair fell limp and greasy and streaks of it began to show a touch of gray.

Alana blacked out for a moment and when she came to she was standing in the dressing room wearing a plain white blouse with the buttons stretched by her belly and a pair of mom jeans that made her fat dumper look exceptionally dumpy. The lower roll of her gut was tucked into the front of the jeans making her look like a stereotype of an obese soccer mom even as new memories filled her head, memories of being a fat middle aged spinster.

She was a cow! And an old one! Ally couldn’t believe that all of this was real as she prodded the loose and wrinkled fat that now hung from her face. She used to turn heads with her hot body, now she could already imagine the cruel stares and oinking sounds that would follow her as she waddled by.

Ally shook her head still in tears. When she waddled out of the dressing room, she was met by Gwendolyyn and Mathilde along with Elle who looked youthful and stunning in her gorgeous dress.

“Thank you for shopping with us, ladies.” said Gwendolyyn through a well practiced smile.

“We hope you enjoy your new lives.”

Elle excitedly clapped her hands and ran off to enjoy the new do over in life she had just been granted while Ally was left fuming.

“This is a disaster, grotesque! You can’t leave me like this. Change me back!”

“Sorry, no returns and no refunds!” laughed Mathilde as she handed Ally back a credit card she never remembered handing her in the first place. 

“I’ll call the police!”

“Right.” Gwendolyyn said with a roll of her eyes.

“Good luck getting anyone to believe you, crazy cat lady.”

Mathilde delivered a hard spank to Ally’s broad backside.

“Have a nice day, Fatty!”

And that was it.

All Ally could do was sob to herself as she realized how truly ruined she was and waddled off in defeat to stuff her fat face in the food court. Now that she was stuck as a fat old hog, Ally figured she might as well go eat like one.

-------------------------------------

“Project Thick”

-------------------------------------

Megan straightened both of the number two pencils on her desk and straightened the hem on her skirt.

She loathed the idea of this social science class project that she was forced to take part in. It was a bullshit college project about “developing empathy and understanding while appreciating diversity”. The idea was to be paired with someone who was as opposite as your as possible and try to find some common ground to “build community bonds”, but it wasn’t even with normal pairings like Democrats and Republicans or rich people and poor people. It was weirdly specific, at least in Megan’s case.

Megan thought of herself as perfect in every way. Perfection was more than just something to strive for. It was an idea, an ideal to be lived every day. Perfection was a core part of Megan’s identity. She had perfect grades, perfect teeth, perfect hair, and a perfect figure. Megan was prim and proper in every way with perfect manners and the air of confidence that her perfect life afforded her.

People worshiped Megan. For many, she was their gold standard. And if they didn’t admire her, Megan knew it was because they were jealous of her, of both beauty and her brains. Her body was what many in society would hold up as the pinnacle. She was slim, but curvy. She had muscles, but not too much. She was tall but not gangly, and everything about her was set in a perfectly proportional hourglass. She was a real head turner.

Her partner for this project turned heads too, but in the opposite direction.

Janis was a great big lumbering slob of a woman, emphasis on big.

Janis was a morbidly obese woman with a huge double belly, big sagging melons for breasts, thick thunder thighs that gave her a slow awkward waddle, and, in general her body was so heavy and out of shape that she was constantly winded. And she was constantly breaking wind!

Megan couldn’t stand the kind of a slob that Janis was. It was like she didn’t care about things at all. Janis would stuff her face all the time. She was constantly snacking. She clearly had no compunction about passing gas in class, and her showering routine was lenient at best.

Technically, Janis was as opposite to Megan as it could get, but Megan was still unhappy with being paired with someone who was clearly a lazy pig, a complete cow.

But Megan’s perfect grades demanded she get an A. No. An A+!

So she had to try.

Reluctantly, Megan decided the easiest way to form a communal bond was, historically, over a meal. She even let Janis pick the place.

Megan had never actually been to a Thick Burger. She had certainly heard of it though. She knew the reputation it had for packing the pounds on people. Megan had heard horror stories of hot freshmen putting on far more than the freshman fifteen because they got themselves caught in a Thick Burger habit. 

But Megan knew better. Megan was perfect. One little night out wouldn’t do anything to her.

Thick Burger was full of fatties when Megan walked in to find Janis already tucked into her meal. The customers Megan saw all seemed to be in various stages of fatness, from relatively thin people who looked like they hadn’t quite upsized their wardrobes to accommodate their new burger bellies yet, to full on blobs who looked one step away from needing to be on a mobility scooter instead.

“You didn’t even wait for me?” asked Megan as she tapped her foot while standing in front of Janis.

Janis didn’t even look up and instead let loose a wet trumpeting fart as she polished off her burger.

“What? Oh. When did you get here?”

“We were supposed to eat together.”

“Yeah yeah. This was just an appetizer. Let’s get you set up. On me.”

Megan just rolled her eyes. But it wasn’t long before she was sitting with Janis, Thick Burger in hand. It was a greasy mess, but she had to admit that it smelled good. And she had gotten it with avocado added, so at least she was having something healthy.

She took a bite.

And her life was changed forever.

As the grease dribbled down her chin, Megan didn’t even try to stop it. She was too transfixed by the magnificent taste of the burger. So that grease stained her white shirt, while she stuffed her face with the burger and then chased it with some extra salty fries. She was off to the races and would never look back.

Trips to Thick Burger became a regular thing for Megan and Janis. They were going together once a week, which quickly turned into two, then three. Then, Megan started going to Thick Burger by herself. It’s like she could get enough. Beyond burgers they had creamy milkshakes, delicious sweet potato tots, and hot apple pies. Megan had never been a particularly religious person, but she had found her heaven.

And the pounds soon found her waistline.

Megan’s flat stomach expanded into a pudgy pot belly. It became soft and doughy and perfect for squeezing. Her very kneadable tummy hung over the waistbands of her pants, frequently pushing and popping buttons. It liked to peek out from under Megan’s shirts, especially when she was stuffing her face and stretching it to its limits, but Megan hardly cared. She was too busy filling her greedy gut with food to care about its appearance. When her blubbery belly was stretched taut with food, it was a jiggly mass that swayed with every step.

And those steps were getting harder and harder for Megan to take. The greasy meals were making her lazy and lethargic. But beyond that, her lower half was getting heavier as well. Her perfect, perky butt began to balloon. Her muscular cheeks blew up into two heavy, sagging sandbags rich with dimply cellulite. She grew a real blubber butt that was right at home with the cold steel chairs of Thick Burger. Her flabby ass provided plenty of cushion when she sat down for her fattening feasts.

Her ass wasn’t the only thing Megan had slowing her down. Her thighs lost their muscularity, and those muscles were replaced with pounds piled upon pounds of soft cushiony fat. Her legs became tubes of quivering flesh, flabby thunder thighs that smacked and rubbed together. Eventually they started to push together so much that her tree trunk thighs forced her legs apart enough to take away her confident strut and replaced it with a waddle. 

They were thick and at first when they would rub together, Megan would find it disgusting, but Janis helped make Megan feel better. Whenever Megan started to feel bad about her fattening body, Janis simply redirected her to more food. This, of course, meant that the pounds piled onto Megan’s frame even faster. Her arms got fat. Her breasts began to grow and sag. Even her face filled with fat and gained a doughy double chin.

The rapid change in her diet had other effects on the prim and proper Megan. Her digestive system had a hard time dealing with all the grease and so Megan grew very gassy. At first this was a humiliating experience, especially the first time she ripped ass in class, but Janis eventually convinced Megan to just let go and accept her body's natural functions. And so, just like that Megan went from prim and proper to devolving into a total slob just like Janis.

As Megan got fatter she sweated more and showered less. As she ate more greasy food, even beyond Thick Burger, the more frequent her flatulence became. It also became louder and far more potent. Megan would regularly drop absolute bombs but no longer cared. All she cared about was indulging in the hedonistic pleasures that Janis had introduced herself to. She used to be self-conscious when her former friends or other people that she used to make fun of made fun of her. But once she let that all go, she really began to enjoy letting herself go.

Yes. Megan became a big lumbering slob, emphasis on the big. She eventually matched and then surpassed Janis in weight. The two became best friends and roommates, living in a room that other people on campus would refer to as the Pig Sty. They got an A+ on that project, obviously. It was the last one Megan ever got. Megan became far too fat and lazy to do well in school ever again.

And Janis thought that was perfect.

A Special "Munchies" Teaser

I'm writing a short story using the Munchies. It was the softest sell ever to get me to do it. I asked for suggestions for "Fat Trimmings" story ideas and it was the first one presented. So yeah, it's happening. I'm adding my contribution to the Munchie multiverse.

It'll be a small one because it is a part of "Fat Trimmings". (Tomorrow's "Fat Trimmings" post will feature between three and four stories based on the amount of time I can find to write.) But... wow I am excited and having a lot of fun just writing this Munchies story.

Not gonna lie, part of me is hoping this is like a backdoor pilot kind of thing where somebody sees it and commissions a continuation. We'll see.

Anyway, I'm having so much fun with it, that I wanted to share a teaser for what people can look froward to, so here it is:

----------------------------------------

"A Little Case of the Munchies"

----------------------------------------

Everyone knows the Munchies. But nobody wants to really KNOW the Munchies personally. Because to really know the Munchies means to get fat.

Really really fat.

“And we sure do love that.”

“Making people fat is tons of fun.”

“And in this story we’ve got two for one.”

“It may be quick, but it’s quite the tale.”

“How we turned these hotties into whales.”

Kayla and Brad were personal trainers who enjoyed showing off and taunting their overweight clients far more than they cared about actually being helpful.

“They were mean, and we don’t like that. So we decided to make them fat. Grow their bellies and thicken their thighs, turn them into what they despise.” 

“Leave them winded. Make them gassed from having to carry around a big fat ass. Something wicked this way comes when it's time for us Munchies to have our fun.”

What's Coming This Week: An Update

Hello Everyone,

Thank you as always for your support, and here's an update of what you can expect this week:

A new chapter of the Scales of Time will be coming out. We'll see what has happened to Vivian as a result of the second shift. Hint, it's some BIG results.

Expect the next chapter of the Scales of Time by Friday. If you're new to this patreon, now is the time to catch up before I release Chapter 10.

Before that, there will be another edition of "Fat Trimmings" dropping on our usual Fat Tuesday. On top of another Thick Burger story, this will include some stories based on ideas submitted by patrons (which is still open BTW). This will include my take on the Munchies.

But wait, there's more! Patrons can expect another poll this week to vote on ideas for the next volume of "Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts", my exclusive to Patreon series.

Finally, I hope to have another part of "Scenes from a Casual Dining Restaurant" done and published sometime next weekend.

Enjoy!

BS

Tell Me What to Write: Story Suggestions Time

What do you want to see me write about? I need some new ideas for "Fat Trimmings" so this is your chance to get the cheapest custom commission available, FREE! Just tell me your story ideas, things you want to see written about, and if I like them (and if they fit in a flash fiction format) I'll write about them in an upcoming "Fat Trimmings" volume.

I'll even take suggestions for evocative titles. Suggest away!

"Nightmare Pigs" Chapter 5

Here is the next chapter of "Nightmare Pigs". There are two chapters left to go. Let me know what you think.

Enjoy!

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Em loved being a skinny bitch. It was something she had never considered back when she was a skinny fat nerd, a social pariah hanging out with fat ass Marjorie Smith and talking about anime and comics and any number of sci-fi or fantasy related properties that now seemed like distant memories to her. No. She hated being Mildred. Mildred was a nerd, a loser, someone worthy of scorn and humiliation. Being Em was much better.

Being Em meant that she was in control. She was beloved. She was popular. She was in control. Em had gotten a taste of the good life, what it meant to be one of the people who makes things happen and not just some loser who sits back and waits for things to happen to her. She was more confident than ever, more beautiful than ever, and she wanted to let everyone know it.

She needed to let everyone know it. She deserved to be worshiped like the goddess she had shaped herself into. She had been the mousy spectator, and now it was time for everyone to see and adore her. It would be only a matter of time before she even passed Jennifer Russel as the most popular girl on campus, and then she would use every bit of her looks, skill and connections to get whatever kind of job she wanted, a job that would quickly give her even more power. Em could see it, her life of glamor and success was set out in front of her like a road paved with gold, and all she had to do was keep following it.

Em imagined for a moment what would have happened to her if fate hadn’t plucked her from the depths of the social dredge, if she had stayed friends with Marjorie. She shivered at the thought of not losing the few stubborn pounds around her paunchy stomach, of still being a nerd with occasionally questionable hygiene instead of the glamor girl she has become. She imagined putting on the freshman fifteen and then…

By god, she thought with horror what Marjorie’s bad influence would have eventually turned her into.

She saw herself as dowdy little Mildred once again, but not so little. Instead she imagined herself splayed out on the couch, so large that she took up most of it by herself with fat spilling out of her greasy gray sweatsuit. She could see herself with a huge belly filling her lap and her fat flabby arms desperately clutching a bucket of fried chicken as she tore into its contents without care for the grease and crumbs she was getting there.

This monstrously fat version of herself was sweating as she stuffed her face and worked her way through yet another complete watch through of every Star Wars related piece of media. She was fat enough to be practically pinned to the couch, and watched with humiliation as her fat form had to rock back and forth just to build up the momentum enough to lean forward and get the remote. She grasped it with her grease stained, chubby sausage fingers, eager to skip through the credits and get to the next episode of “Star Wars: Clone Wars” not to be confused with “Star Wars: THE Clone Wars” which she would be getting to later.

Em was disgusted as she watched herself tear into another piece of fried chicken and saw the grease run down and fill the fold of her pimply double chin. She shuddered with horror as this monstrous Mildred version of herself lifted one big fat ass cheek and let out a tremendous fart, a fart that was so loud it made her blubbery ass cheek and her meaty thunder thigh quiver.

It was too much, far too much, and Em couldn’t bring herself to look at it any more. She turned around and instead was looking at her slim and sexy, glamorous friends, a clique of popular chicks much more her current speed. Yes. The idea of abandoning the dream that her life as Em had become to go back to being boring old Mildred and then succumbing to all of Marjorie Smith’s worst influences and turning into a complete hambeast was a nasty thought to be cast away. She was popular now. Her friends were here. They were perfect.

And then they began to change too.

They began to grow and swell with fat, to become bloated flabby caricatures of what they once were. Their fat began to push its way out of their clothes, ripping them until they were all their fat and naked. And they beckoned her to join them.

Their fat, sweaty bodies glistened in the light. Em’s formerly slim and sexy friends had somehow turned into gluttonous slobs, piggish parodies of themselves. They began to stuff their faces with greasy burgers, slices of pizza dangled above their heads to let the cheese slide down into their greedy mouths. Em’s formerly glamorous girlfriends were sweating and farting without a care in the world other than feeding themselves, filling themselves with whatever their next treat was regardless of the amount of crumbs, or sauce, or grease they were getting on their fat, sweaty bodies. Those bodies, undulating with rolls and folds of flabby fat turned and motioned once again for Em to join them. The siren song of the smell of sweet and savory food pulled at Em’s nose until it mixed with the repulsive stench of their sweat and flatulence which broke Em’s trance and allowed her to make a run for it.

She couldn’t allow herself to be stuck with them, to become one of them, to give up her slim and sexy frame, her glamorous and successful future like they had all somehow done in the name of becoming some fat greaseball, a sloppy behemoth. Her life was perfect now, and she intended to keep it that way.

So she ran. She ran as fast as her lean athletic legs could carry her and with no direction or purpose except to get away from the nightmare pigs that she was leaving behind. Away. Run away. Away from the fat disgusting pigs that had once been her pretty, prim and proper popular friends. That was all she could think of as she ran down a seemingly endless hallway.

Em ran for what felt like forever as she fled the fat fate that awaited behind her. She thought surely she must have gotten away, and yet she could still smell the distinct scent of sweat and bacon, delicious savory bacon, sweet crispy perfect ba-

No. She had to keep her mind straight. She made another turn in this endless hallway and finally found a door.

“Thank you!”

She swung open the door and there was Cynthia, slim and gorgeous Cynthia bright and shining as the welcomed sun.

And then Em blinked and Cynthia was none of those things.

Deep down Em knew that she was still looking at Cynthia, but this Cynthia was no tanned goddess. This version was a pale and pudgy mess. Pudgy didn’t do her justice. This Cynthia was an obese hog clad in fishnet stockings that made her thunder thighs look like they belonged in a butcher’s window. She had an immense and sloppy belly that exploded out from under an ill fitting black top and spilled over her leather shorts. The Cynthia that Em knew was trim, toned, put together. She had a bubbly if often secretly bitchy personality. This was a fat goth nightmare, a greasy piggish woman who reached forward to grab Em and pull her into the room at the same time that she released a horribly thunderous burst of flatulence. 

Em fell backward and slammed the door shut before taking off again down the hallway until she came to the next door. This time, when she threw it open, she was met by Bethany Richardson, pretty in pink.

And then she began to swell.

Bethany began to bloat with fat. Em watched as Bethany’s face contorted with horror as it swell with fat. Her cheeks became jowls and her chin multiplied. Bethany looked like she was about to scream, but then her chubby face was filled with a horrifying serenity. The rest of her continued to expand, and as the fat filled her it ripped through her outfit which was soon replaced by a grease stained sundress. It was an outfit that was meant to be flowy and loose but instead was stretched tight across the immensity of Bethany’s stomach. Bethany’s arms grew hairy, and she began to sweat profusely until she gave off the distinct odor of stale sweat mixed with marijuana. This was soon mixed with the odor from a blast of flatulence that burst from Bethany’s bloated backside.

“Bethany… this- this isn’t you. You’re not a pig. You’re the must put together person I know, so driven, so gorgeous. You’re-”

PPPPHHHHHPPPPBBBBBBRRRRRRRRTTTTT!!!!!

That was all the response Em got from the obese Bethany before she tried to grab at Em with her fat grubby hands. Em jumped backward and slammed the door shut yet again. Two formerly thin friends turned into pigs. Em knew she had to get out of here and hoped that one of these doors would be an exit.

The third door was not it.

Behind the third door that Em tried was Diana Pendelton. The mousy girl turned around and looked like she was about to shout a warning to Em and then her voice caught in her throat and, just like with the others, Em watched as Diana filled with fat. First her flat stomach expanded with fat until it burst through her shirt as it became a big sagging pot belly that bounced and jiggled. Then her thighs flabbed out and her ass became bloated and saggy. Diana grew fat all over and her normally staid clothes were torn and replaced by a bright pink tube top that did nothing to cover her bloated belly. Em couldn’t take anymore after that and shut the door on the mumbling Diana.

Em’s head was spinning with desperation as she approached the final door. Behind her she could hear laughter, and the sounds of chewing, gnashing, feasting… and farting. It was all so horrifying as she reached for the last door and threw it open.

Jennifer.

It was Jennifer Russel, her queen, the gorgeous blonde who had pulled her from obscurity and turned her from Mildred to Em, really helped to make her something. And she looked so normal. Em stared at her for a long moment, hesitant after everything she had already seen.

But Jennifer seemed normal.

She wasn’t swelling with fat, sweating profusely or farting. She wasn’t reaching out and trying to grab Em to bring her down with her.

So Em stepped into the room.

And as she stepped into the room, Jennifer sank into the darkness and was replaced by a tall boney woman with elongated limbs, shrouded in shadow and with long hair like deep purple tentacles.

“Wh-who are you?” Em screamed as she turned to leave only to find that the door was no longer there.

The nightmare witch shifted form into something a bit more familiar and a lot more human.

“Hello, Mildred.”

“Mrs…. Smith?”

“It’s nice to see your dear.”

“What happened to Jennifer?”

“I haven’t gotten to her yet. But don’t worry. I will. I’m saving the biggest bitch for last.”

“And the others?” Em asked, terrified that she already knew the answer.

“Yes. Your skinny bitch friends are now… fat pigs, as you would call them. I gave you a look at what I did to them so you could have a preview of what's going to happen next.”

“To me?”

“Yes, Mildred. It’s your turn.”

“I… I don’t go by Mildred anymore. I’m Em now.”

Mrs. Smith chuckled to herself as her hair began to grow long and purple again.

“Oh, Mildred. I’m a very tolerant woman and love to respect the names people want for themselves, but this one… no. I can’t tolerate this, Mildred. You may be Em for now, but not for much longer.”

Scarlet began to float toward Em, and, as she did so, she reached out an arm that began to lengthen until it reached her shoulder and grasped it with her long claws.

“P-please, don’t do this. Please.” 

Scarlet merely grinned in response as her face narrowed and stretched. Her smile peeled back to reveal rows of shark teeth. She stroked Em’s chin.

“You know, Mildred. The lowest circle of hell is reserved for traitors.”

“It’s not my fault. Marjorie could be just like me if she just lost some weight and stopped being such a ner-”

“MY BABY GIRL IS PERFECT!”

Scarlet’s scream was like thunder and brought Em to her knees.

“I-I’m sorry, Mrs. Smith. I’m sorry! Please! Please leave me alone. I didn’t mean to insult Marjorie. We just grew apart. That's all. I just needed to hang out with some people who are more my speed.”

Suddenly, Em heard a click and turned her head to see the door standing there again. She ran through it with no idea where it would lead but knowing that it was the only option she had.

She found herself once again in the endless hallway running as fast as her legs could carry her, faster and faster, driven by desperation. Em thought for a moment that, against all odds, she may yet escape this until she heard Scarlet’s voice in her head.

“You’re right, Mildred. I guess I do need to make you more Marjorie’s speed.”

Em felt her stomach grow queasy as she continued to run. She was trying to move her legs as fast as before, but she felt like something was slowing her down. It felt like she was suddenly strapped with ankle weights fighting against her momentum, but she couldn’t bring herself to look down… that is… until she felt her thighs rubbing together.

She had worked so hard over the last few months to tone her thighs, to shape herself into something of an athlete with a model confident strut. So much time had been dedicated to making them something she could be proud of, and it was all being taken away. Step by step, Em’s thighs filled with fat growing softer and flabbier. Her toned muscles began to give way to cushiony flab. Her ankles swelled to form cankles with her calves. Her feet grew fat. That’s where she felt the weight first. That’s why things started to feel like she was running through sand.

Then things got worse as her thighs grew fatter her quivering thighs began to slap together as she ran, slap and jiggle, truly loud thunder thighs. Then they quickly grew so big and fat that the flabby flesh of each thunder thigh began to rub together, to chafe against one another. But it didn’t stop there. Her thighs continued to expand with fat and push together slowing Em’s gait even further. She was already starting to get winded.

But she wouldn’t stop moving.

“Impressive, Mildred. You’ve got a bit more fight in you then I expected. You really put a lot of work into your fitness, you’re like a fine tuned sports car. Well, perhaps a bit more junk in your trunk will slow you down.”

Em could feel her butt getting bigger, expanding and pressing against the fabric of pants that should have already been busted by her three trunk thighs. Her ass, once perfectly pert, grew bloated and flabby as it filled her pants with fat. As her bubble butt became a blubber butt, its heavy weight did make each of her already labored steps slower. Em was beginning to sweat profusely from the exertion. A stream of sweat ran down her lower back and into her deepening ass crack as her chunky cheeks continued to blow up with blubber. 

As her ass full of adipose grew larger, each flabby cheek bounced and jiggled and slapped heavily against the backs of her thunder thighs while Em’s running slowed to a desperate waddle. She tried to keep going, to push herself further and—

PPHHHBBBLLLPPPPPPHHHHBBBBRRRRRPPTTTT!!!!

“Oops. Sounds like this car is breaking down even though she’s still got plenty of gas!”

Em’s enormous ass surged forward again and released another trumpeting fart that blew her strained pants apart. As they tore all the way down revealing a pair of panties that were being quickly swallowed by her tremendous ass cheeks, the remains of her pants fell down past her thunder thighs to her thick cankles and caused her to trip and fall forward. Em tried to crawl, looking ridiculous as her lower half was that of an obese woman while her upper half was still slim and fit.

Eventually, Em managed to pull herself forward enough to free herself from her pants and roll herself onto her fat ass and into a seated position. That’s where she was when Scarlet appeared again.

“You look ridiculous.”

“I feel ridiculous.”

“I can even things out for you.”

“No! Please! No more!”

Scarlet leaned forward and pat Em on the head.

“What happened to you, Mildred? You and Marjorie used to be best friends, and then you left her for her bullies?”

“I got better. I made friends. And people like Jennifer, if you’re not with her you’re against her. I wasn’t going to be her roommate and be against her. That’s ridiculous.”

“You should have stood up to her, stood up for Marjorie.”

“You don’t understand what it takes to stand up to someone like Jennifer.”

“Sure I do. Anyone can stand up to bullies. All it takes is some guts!”

Em felt her stomach begin to stretch and screamed again as her belly bloated out in front of her. Her skin stretched like a balloon filling with air before sagging as it filled with fat. Her formerly taught stomach quickly became a ball of pudge, a turgid mass of fat, then a big jiggling gut. Em tried desperately to push the fat back in, a sight so familiar to Scarlet that it no longer caused her to laugh, but the fat kept coming, oozing through her fingers as it pushed her arms back and spilled further onto her fat lap. It was like she was filling up with bubbling blubber, she could feel it in her hands, the sack of fat growing further. 

She was just growing forward. She was growing side to side as well. Her waist blew outward with two thick slabs of fat making up her new juicy love handles. This gave her gut more room to grow as well as it continued to spread outward into a huge spare tire full of jello. 

“That gut looks rather heavy. It must be quite the lift.”

And then that lift got heavier as the muscles in Em’s arms began to atrophy and her lean limbs fell victim to the fattening. The blew up quicker than everything else, turning into flabby pillows of flesh, big marshmallow limbs complete with flabby, floppy bingo wings. She could barely hold up her own arms anymore and had to let her fat arms drop and pressed her chubby hands against the cold floor in defeat.

That’s when Em felt her breasts flop onto her belly as the grew fat and saggy, but she didn’t even have the energy to protest at that point. She just gave in and let the fat fill her. Her heavy chest rose and fell to the rhythm of her heavy sobs.

“And the finishing touch.”

Scarlet pinched Em’s cheek and the fat began to fill in the rest.

Her face grew fat and dull, jowly with a thick double chin and a piggish nose. Her eyes lost their luster as her confidence left her and her brain rewired itself to remember every single bit of useless pop-culture trivia it had forgotten and then some. It was like she was downloading every single piece of nerd media all at once. Her teeth grew crooked and yellow. Her skin grew greasy and covered in acne. She blinked as everything around her suddenly went blurry.

And then Scarlet crowned her with a thick framed pair of black glasses.

“Isn’t that better, Mildred?”

“Yes, ma’am.” said Mildred with a nod that made her double chin expand like a toad’s.

Then she snorted like a pig and let loose a sudden fart loud enough to make her giggle and snort like a dork.

Scarlet leaned over and gave Mildred another pat on the head.

“There you go, dear. Much better this way. It’ll be good for Marjorie to have her best friend back.”

Mildred was stuck in her own fantasy world. and all she did in response was pick her nose and fart again.

Scarlet chuckled.

“Now if you excuse me, dear. I have one last visit to make tonight.”

And then she disappeared unnoticed by Mildred who was too busy letting the last vestiges of her brief life as Em slip away.

"Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts" Volume 6 (Arrogant Athletes Edition)

Here is the full collection of Volume 6 of Exclusive Cuts as voted on and suggested by you, my wonderful Patreon patrons. Thank you for all of your support especially as I had that brief bump of work and illness hitting at the same time.

I've been putting these out all week and wanted to share them together in one convenient place. This collection features five different stories all suggested by patrons (Special thanks to them!), and it totals over 8,000 words making this my largest volume of Exclusive Cuts by far.

As a reminder, Exclusive Cuts will only ever be posted here. These 8,000 words of fat fiction are only for you, my patrons. It's a big perk of being a member, and thank you once again for your continued support. I really appreciate it.

Let me know your favorite story and why you like it so much. I really value your feedback and love reading it.

Enjoy!

"Whole Lotta Whale Blubber" An Exclusive Cut

I thought about waiting and posting this tomorrow morning, but it's done, and I wanted to keep the whole posting every day thing going this week. Tomorrow, I'll post a PDF collecting all five stories from Volume 6 of Exclusive Cuts. This is the longest one at over 2,000 words.

Enjoy!

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Natalia looked like a goddess. She moved like a water nymph in real life. Her body was long and toned and powerful. She was an incredibly talented swimmer who was as graceful as she was fast. With long and powerful limbs, she cut through the water with ease and held numerous records for her college swim team. She was an Amazon, a force of nature, and a bitch. 

And she was Debbie’s worst nightmare. Poor Debbie was a fat girl who had had a decent showing on her high school team and was eager to try out now that she was a freshman in college. But Natalia was not having it. 

“Listen here, Doughy Debbie,” said Natalia has she put a hand on Debbie’s fat shoulder. 

“Whale’s belong in the ocean, not on our swim team.”

Natalia grabbed hold of the lower part of Debbie’s generous belly. She gave the flabby rolls of fat a hard lunch through Debbie’s overly tight one piece swimsuit, and then she gave the whole thing a big shake. 

“I mean, look at you. You’re disgusting, huge and fat and gross. You’re a pathetic fatty, not an athlete like us. You’re just a bulbous, gluttonous loser. I mean, holy shit, you disgusting pig, all your fat is going to make you like a big bloated buoy holding you back.”

Natalia gave Debbie a hard spank and then motioned back to herself. 

“Look at me. I’m gorgeous. Lean and mean, tubs. This is what you’re supposed to look like if you want to be a champion swimmer, slim and trim. There’s not an ounce of fat on me, and you’re full of it, just pounds upon pounds of whale blubber. You waddle about here. How do you actually expect to move gracefully in the water? Get out of here, you landwhale. Get your fat ass out of here!”

Debbie waddled away in tears but was still able to hear Natalia laughing with her friends.

“What a fat loser. She’s pathetic.”

Later that day, Debbie found herself in the local mall having stumbled into a dusty old antique shop that she never knew was there before. It was crowded with good but not with customers and was entirely out of place in the middle of a mall.

The purveyor was easily the largest woman Debbie had ever seen, a round ball of a woman who puttered around the narrow aisles of her store. She caught Debbie staring at what looked like a long mirror wrapped in a drop cloth. Debbie was reaching for the cloth when-

“Don’t touch that dear,” called the fat woman.

“You don’t want to look in that. Here, take this.” she said as she tossed Debbie a small brass whale.

“What is this?”

“Just hand it to that mean girl while thinking about what you really want. It will solve all your problems.”

The next day, Debbie caught up with Natalia at the beach. She didn’t know why should would find Natalia there, but as she flipped the brass whale over in her hands, she just had the feeling that the beach was where she needed to go.

Debbie hated the beach mostly because she always attracted a lot of negative stares and comments. She felt rather ridiculous waddling on the sand in her shorts and oversized t-shirt which was stretched tight across her belly and was worn over her one piece swimsuit as if she were ever going to take things off after yesterday.

When she got over to Natalia and her cronies, Natalia looked at her with her mouth agape in surprise. It was an expression that quickly turned into a grin at the delicious opportunity to make fun of Debbie once more.

“What are you doing here, fatty? You need our help rolling your big whale ass back into the ocean where you belong?”

Without thinking about it, Debbie just tossed the brass whale at Natalia who caught it on reflex.

“What the?”

A cold chill ran up Natalia’s spine as she looked down at the brass whale.

It was a tingle that soon spread throughout her body.

Natalia felt her arms swelling. Her perfect limbs, lean and powerful and capable of pulling her through the water with great speed and for long distances suddenly began to feel weak and heavy as the muscles atrophied and turned into fat. Natalia held them out in front of her and watched as the muscles softened and drooped downward. She watched with horror as her traditional trim arms grew fat jiggly bingo wings. She moved them tentatively and screamed as the fat wobbled about aimlessly. They grew into puffy, pillowy things plum with plush poundage. It was terrible to watch the way the pale squishy fat on her arms sway so easily and didn’t seem to want to stop. She felt like they were these pasty, spongy, melting marshmallow arms, and they ended in hands that were blowing up with fat as well. Each finger swelled like thick sausages as even her palms got pudgy.

And that was just the beginning of it.

The fat ran through her shoulders and began to sink into her breasts which began to swell and sag in turn. They grew heavy and pendulous with fat, and Natalia could feel them pulling heavily on her strained bikini top even as they flabby mounds of flesh spilled out from both the top and bottom and quivered. Their pale and pasty quality made the stretch marks that they gained even more obvious, and their sagging weight caused them to lose any real shape while bringing an immense pain to her lower back.

That back was starting to get fat as well.

Natalia had never had back rolls before, but she was growing them now, thick juicy rolls of fat were blowing up her previously thin waist as she continued to expand outward in every direction with quivering, flabby flesh. Her rolls of back fat made their way around her waist and created thick spongy love handles that hung over the waistband of bikini- which was tiny and getting tinier as her body continued to swell. These love handles were flabby and also covered in angry red stretch marks. They drooped down as part of a very juicy muffin top, and of course that muffin top was completed by the appearance of a very prominent pot belly.

Her slim waist and washboard abs were Natalia’s favorite possessions, but now they were all going away in an instant. Her abs began to melt, to soften and then to sag out and then down as her growing pot belly formed and folded itself over the edge of her bikini bottoms. Her belly continued to bloom with fat and split into two distinct rolls, a top half and an even thicker, fatter lower half. Natalia’s spongy spare tire was quite the sight to see as it was now this prodigious double belly. It was a far cry from the sexy abs that she used to possess and made for the perfect compliment for her thick love handles as well as a nice shelf for her sagging breasts. With her new gut, Natalia didn’t look anything like a well practiced athlete who could have been a model. Instead she looked every bit the part of an incredible glutton with a greedy and insatiable hunger roiling up inside her great gelatinous gut.

And that was all just the top half.

Her lower half wasn’t faring much better.

Natalia felt her ass blow out like a pair of tires. She felt her sculpted cheeks suddenly plop downward as each one became a heavy sandbag of fat. Like blubbery balloons, they blossomed into bloated butt cheeks. Her ass had always been head turning, and as she turned her own head to survey the damage, she wanted to cry. It just kept growing. Her ass kept getting fatter and as it swelled it showed no sign of slowing down. Her previously taut butt cheeks filled the bikini bottom and then began to consume it. Her blubbery butt was covered in cottage cheese like cellulite and wobbled with even the slightest of movements. She felt like a wideload whale and was still growing fatter.

Her athletic thighs were the next to fall victim to the fattening. They went from being toned and tanned muscles to pale doughy fat in an instant. They expanded in all directions until they were massive tubes of fat, thick quivering thunder thighs covered in cellulite to match her blubber butt. Natalia’s tree trunk thighs would never be able to carry her gracefully through the water again. They’d never be able to carry her gracefully on land again either. Her thunder thighs had grown so much that they touched and forced each other outward which would forever curse the formerly athletic Natalia with a pronounced waddle, slow and lumbering despite her best efforts. They would shake and quiver with gelatinous fat with every labored step. Her fat legs expanded. Her calves and ankles formed together into big fat cankles, and even her feet swelled with fat.

Finally, Natalia felt her face begin to swell, her precious, perfect, angelic face. It began to swell and droop with fat, becoming a doughy mess of jowls and extra chins. She could even feel her nose swelling and becoming piggish. She reached up and tried alternatively to pull the fat off or push it back in, but it was all to no avail. She was a fatty, a complete and utter whale of a woman. Her face was fat and bloated and she knew that she hated it with every fiber of her being. She wanted to scream but suddenly she was back standing on the beach.

And she was still fat.

Immensely fat.

Incredibly obese.

She was standing there looking positively ridiculous with all of her fat rolls and folds flopping about for all to see. Her bikini bottoms were basically completely hidden by the immenseness of her double belly and swollen cheeks of her fat blubbery ass. She felt like she was melting, and hoped that it would melt all of the fat off of her immense frame giving her back her slim and athletic one, but instead she could tell that she was just getting sweaty and sunburnt.

And then there was all the laughter.

“Look at this pathetic pig!”

“Gross!”

“What a fat land whale!”

Her friends, former friends were all giving her hell, pointing at her, poking and pinching her fat and laughing their asses out.

“You big bloated loser.”

“You blubbery moo cow!”

“Alright, leave her alone.”

The last person Natalia didn’t recognize at first. And when she did her eyes went wide.

It was Debbie! Doughy Debbie! But she wasn’t doughy at all. She was hot! Slim and athletic while Natalia was now far fatter than Debbie had ever been. Natalia felt her new reality set in and realized that Debbie was now the triumphant swimmer on campus, a popular goddess and Natalia was well…

“Fatalia here gets to hang around us, so let’s just be good role models shall we? She can’t help being a cow. We can still be friendly. Isn’t that right?” Debbie put a slender hand on Natalia’s fat shoulder.

“But jeez, Fatty, you should put some more sunblock on. You’re gonna roast all that bacon.”

Everyone but Natalia joined in laughter with Debbie. 

Natalia just stood there dumbly knowing that this was what she was now, a submissive fatty hanging on for whatever taste of popularity she could get. Her new memories were setting in alongside her old ones. She was the swimmer who let herself go, and now she was just a fat girl.

That was her life now. She could still remember what she used to be like, and she sensed that Debbite knew it too. But Natalia knew that nobody would believe the truth if she was to tell it to them. A hottie who was magically transformed into a hog? Who would believe that could happen. It was impossible. It was unbelievable.

It was a whale of a tale.

"Red Card and Rounded" An Exclusive Cut

Here is the third story in what will become Volume 6 of Exclusive Cuts a collection of Patreon exclusive stories based on the idea of arrogant athletes gaining weight. The topic and the stories were voted on and suggested by patrons like you!

Enjoy

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Abby hated people. She was an egotistical athlete, a future soccer star in her own mind currently playing in college, and to her everyone else was a threat. She treated everyone else like an opponent and constantly looked to demean and dominant others to protect herself from her own insecurities. Abby was a gorgeous girl with a powerful and athletic figure that she used to gain a lot of attention. The one thing about her body that made her the slightest bit insecure was the fact that she was quite short. It wasn’t much of everything. Nobody else really cared. In fact, if anything there was a large segment of the student body that found her shortness to be an attractive plus. 

But the insecurity that her height gave her made Abby keen to pick on the appearances of others, especially those who were even a little bit heavy. Abby loved to make fun of fat people, and she wasn’t afraid to get handsy, poking and prodding pudge whenever she saw fit to do so.

There was one particular girl on the team whom Abby had great disdain for, and that was Janelle. Janelle was an excellent striker and often challenged Abby’s position as the best on the team. It was the kind of rivalry that could have made both women better players, but, instead, it just made Abby anxious and angry. She didn’t like competing with Janelle on the field. She didn’t like competing with her for attention. She didn’t like competing with Janelle in the looks department or anything else. She hated all of it.

And then a miracle happened.

The summer between their sophomore and junior year of college, Janelle went off on a tropical vacation and contracted some kind of virus that made her fat! Not just chubby, Janelle turned into a full blown oinker! Abby couldn’t believe her luck with how much Janelle had blimped out. The obese woman was now clearly too fat to perform on the team. Her first attempts at practice were pathetic, and Abby made sure to let everyone know it. She gave Janelle’s new gut a slap and jiggle in front of everyone and oinked right in Janelle’s face.

Janelle quit the team after that, and Abby was even more delighted. She could have let things go there, let Janelle waddle off into the sunset and enjoy her own position as the undisputed best on the team. 

But Abby needed more, she needed to really rub Janelle’s face in it and make everyone aware of what a pig Janelle had turned into. So she got herself a big bucket of water filled with red dye so that she could pretend that it was pig’s blood. She had the bucket propped up and when Janlle walked underneath it down it came. 

Abby was ecstatic. She was so happy that she couldn’t help but gloat. She came out from hiding laughing and oink and clapping and generally not paying attention to where she was stepping. And that’s how she ended up slipping on the puddle that she had created and ended up hurting herself, twisting her leg and landing awkwardly on her arm.

It was a bad day.

And it only got worse.

Abby’s injuries meant that she was going to have to sit out the season just like Janelle. And of course that led to more problems for Abby because Abby had a not so well kept secret. 

Abby had quite the appetite.

She loved to eat, and she was especially fond of chocolate amongst other kinds of junk food. When she was training or playing this appetite wasn’t a problem. When she continued to indulge her appetite while sitting on her ass meant that that ass was destined to get fat.

And getting fat is exactly what happened to Abby.

Her ass was the first thing to go. Sitting around and stuffing her face with chocolate turned her tushy soft. Her perfectly round bubble butt became a soft and flabby blubber butt. Her ass cheeks grew into cushions of squishy fat for her to rest on as she continued to grow, and when she did manage to move herself around, her chunky cheeks bounced up and down and side to side with the loose fat of her portly posterior moving whichever way their momentum carried them. 

Abby’s athletic legs turned to jello next. As her muscles atrophied into soft, jiggling fat, her thighs grew wider and filled with heavy adipose. The legs that had made her such a powerful runner and striker on the field became weak and flabby thunder thighs that slapped and began to rub together with each laboring step. Abby’s movements became more limited because of her injuries and were even more limited as her thighs grew thicker and made physical movement more difficult. Even getting out of her seat became tougher as her thighs grew flabbier and weaker and her ass grew fatter and heavier weighing her down to her seat.

Her ability to get up was further hindered because as her ass grew behind her, her belly grew out in front of her. Abby’s strong core, another part of her body that she felt great pride in swelled outward as the muscles gave way to flab. She grew a big jiggling pot belly filled with the junk food that she greedily stuffed her face with. And when she sat, her fat gut kept her pinned to the chair and made Abby work extra hard to get up. Since Abby had grown so lazy that getting up wasn’t something she really wanted to do in the first place, the slightest resistance from her plump, squishy belly made Abby even more inclined to just keep sitting and eating.

Abby’s whole body got fat over time. Her breasts grew bigger and started to sag onto her belly. Her arms grew thick and flabby. Even her face grew round and fat. The biggest issue that Abby found herself facing was her short stature. Because she was such a small person, any pounds that she piled on announced themselves rather quickly, and she grew quite round. Soon the soccer player had grown rather round like a soccer ball.

Of course, when the time came for the fattened Abby to rejoin the team, she was an abject failure. Her fat and flabby body had too much resistance and not enough stamina. She was an out of shape blob of a girl whose inability to play was immediately evident to everyone who could run circles around her. It was like Abby was an entirely different person, a fat and useless one when it came to playing soccer. She quickly grew sweaty and winded and thoroughly humiliated.

Abby’s fat stomach rolled out from under her shirt. As she fell over her fat feet, her blubbery butt ripped through her shorts. She ended up covered in sweat and mud and looking like a total pig. Worst of all, Abby wasn’t just getting shown up by everyone else on the team. She was getting shown up by Janelle.

Janelle was still fat, but she had spent so much time training that she had made her body stronger than ever. She was a powerful and intimidating force on the field, especially to Abby. In the end it was clear, Janelle was in and Abby was out. She was kicked off the team, and Janelle sent her on her way with a cruel but fitting new nickname.

Flabby Abby.

Flabby Abby was never the same after that. Her confidence was shattered. Her friends all turned against her and everyone she ever made fun of was now eager to revel in her downfall. All of this just drove her to eat more and more to grow fatter and fatter.

The soccer star was gone forever, and Flabby Abby was here to stay. The most crushing thing was that Abby knew that she had nobody to blame but herself. She had pulled the prank. She had fallen because of her own hubris. She had eaten herself into a complete fat ass. Flabby Abby would stare at her fat face in the mirror, grab her belly and oink at herself because she knew she had turned herself into a complete pig and there was no going back. Deep down she knew she deserved all of this. If she had been nicer she wouldn’t have ended up turning into a big fat failure.

This was her karma. This was the weighty consequences of her own cruel actions. This was her big fat fate.