BS Writer

PATREON EXCLUSIVE: "The Book of Kelly's Belly" - Chapter 1

Here's the first 3,000 word chapter of a Patreon EXCLUSIVE prequel story featuring Kelly from "Model Made to Waddle" back in her prime before she got fat. It's going to be a bit of an interactive story: More information to follow at the end of this post. For now...

Enjoy!

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(AUTHOR'S NOTE: All characters featured in this story are 18+)

Kelly was beautiful and she knew it. At nineteen years of age, Kelly was gifted with an amazing body and incredible confidence to go with it. For the last year, she had been picking up modeling gigs on the side, and she was of course the head cheerleader at school. Kelly had a select group of close friends with whom she ran the school as the undisputed queen bee.

Through a combination of birthdate, starting school later, and not being the smartest of the bunch, Kelly was a fair bit older than most of her friends, even though the rest of them were at least 18, but this additional experience along with her gorgeous body and sheer charisma made Kelly the clear leader of the group. Everyone admired her, fawned over her, feared her.

Kelly was a cutting person who suffered no fools, especially fat ones. She hated fatties who she found to be fat and lazy and genetically inferior. Kelly had a rather robust appetite herself and when others ate less and still weighed so much more than her slim and sexy one hundred and ten pound self, Kelly found that exceedingly amusing. She loved to point out the figure flaws of others, even her friends, to keep them in line, and when people were really fat, they were the perfect target for her bullying as a means of entertainment.

And the best time to do this was during the summer on the days where Kelly had little to do but to lounge around in her bikini, gossiping with friends and people watching, keeping an eye out for fatties waddling by who made for the perfect people to poke fun at. 

This chapter in her life takes place right at the start of one of those summers. Freshly nineteen, it was the summer before her senior year of high school. The temperature was high, and Kelly was at her hottest. Set to rule the school once more, a beauty in her prime, Kelly enjoyed sitting out in the sun in her string bikini and looking off, not just at the beach but at the perfect future that lay ahead of her.

How could things go wrong? 

Kelly was aiming to really take advantage of this summer of fun, and she was eager to do so by praying on an easy target right away. Luckily for her, she just so happened to see one of those targets waddling by, her favorite target in fact.

“Hey, Boulder!”

Kelly’s favorite target for bullying, by far, was Roxanne, Roxy for short, or, as Kelly and her cruel mean girl friends were so keen to call her, Boulder. That nickname was admittedly a stretch of pun on Roxy and rocks, but Kelly considered it the most clever thing she had ever come up with- which in fairness was probably technically true. She also decided it was quite fitting given the fact that Roxy’s most prominent feature was the truly large spare tire that she was lugging around in front of her.

In every sense of the word, Roxy was what Kelly would not so fondly call a fatty. She had thick thunder thighs, flabby arms, a big fat blubbery butt, and a pudgy face complete with a doughy double chin. But Roxy’s gut was the thing everybody noticed about her fat body. It stuck out further than any other part of her flabby figure. And while it rolled over the waistband of whatever outfit she was wearing, or caused any dresses she wore to stick to the underside of it and give her the appearance of a vacuum sealed ham, her stomach also didn’t segment into a double belly like many its size would. It stayed as one big round ball of blubber which of course meant that pregnancy rumors were prone to pop up every once in a while. But Kelly always enjoyed popping those with a simple-

“Boulder is too much of a fat loser for anyone to want to touch her.”

Kelly loved snide comments like that. Another one was-

“We’d call you Boulders, but your tits are too small.”

And it was true, Roxy was very unfortunate in the way her breasts were much smaller than the rest of her fat body, especially her blubbery belly. She had two breasts that were soft and saggy, and they rested sadly atop her big shelf of a spare tire. Her gut gave them plenty of room to rest on as it dwarfed them in size.

“Lard Ass. Tiny Tits. Big Belly No Boobs.”

Kelly loved calling attention to Roxy’s proportions, and she was not above physically doing so as well as calling them out from a distance.

On this day, Kelly planned to do just that. 

With were friends flanking her on either side, and a fresh strawberry smoothie in her hands, Kelly sipped and watched as Roxy came waddling down the beach unaware that Kelly and her crew had set up camp midway between where Roxy and her family had settled and the ice cream truck that she was heading to. 

It was a spot Kelly had not chosen randomly. 

Unlike the stylish Kelly, clumsy Roxy was dressed in an uninspiring one piece bathing suit that was clearly meant to hide her stomach as much as possible. Even then, it didn’t do a very good job. Roxy’s bulbous belly still bounced up and down as she waddled, and it stretched out the fabric of the swimsuit as much as it possibly could. Her love handles refused to be contained, and they flung themselves out to the sides and were very clearly visible as they oozed through the sides of the swimsuit. 

Those love handles were what Kelly sought to target as she sauntered over, smoothie still in hand. She swirled it around and took a confident sip, making sure to step right in Roxy’s way before even saying anything.

Roxy, used to this kind of treatment, hung her head and sighed. She shuffled to the side and tried to waddle around Kelly, hoping that Kelly would settle for just some quiet posturing and causing a mild inconvenience, but Kelly had other plans.

At the last moment, Kelly stepped right in front of Roxy’s path and allowed herself to to be hit by Roxy’s big blubbery belly.

She also made sure to strategically tilt her smoothie forward so that, when the two collided, a large amount of smoothie came spurting forward and splattering onto Roxy’s chest and belly. To complete her routine, Kelly then took several exaggerated steps backward, tossed the rest of the smoothie to the side and dramatically fell onto her perfect heart-shaped butt.

Her friends got quite the laugh out of Kelly’s mock seriousness.

“Damn, Boulder. You really need to watch where you’re going. That big blubbery belly of yours really bowled me over.”

Slowly, while elongating her kith figure to show it off as much as possible to her friends and any other would be witnesses, Kelly got up off the sandy ground. She turned around so that Roxy could watch her wipe the sand from her perfectly toned butt and be jealous. 

And Roxy was. 

Kelly’s beautiful butt was tanned and toned and undeniably gorgeous. It was no small wonder that it turned heads whenever she walked by. Kelly’s butt looked good in everything, leggings, jeans, dresses. But it especially looked luscious in her bikini. There wasn’t the slightest imperfection in sight, and with each swat of her hand to remove the sand, Kelly’s butt had just the right amount of movement to it before snapping right back into place. 

In contrast, Roxy’s butt was large and squishy. Her bloated butt cheeks had plenty of size to them- Each one was more than a handful. But they also had lots of sag. When she waddled about, her blubbery butt cheeks bounced up and down and slapped onto the back of her thick thunder thighs, producing the undeniable sound and fat smacking fat. Both her pasty posterior and her chunky thunder thighs were also covered in cellulite and riddled by stretch marks. Roxy’s round rump also exploded out from under the the bottom of her swimsuit which really showcased the size of her sloppy sloshy butt cheeks while also having the unfortunate effect of giving her a constant wedgie. 

But Kelly wasn’t interested in Roxy's butt. She remained much more interested in her love handles, and, now that she was free of her smoothie, Kelly turned back around, sauntered up to Roxy, and pinched both of those juicy love handles. 

“Damn, these things look like they’re getting bigger every day. For a Boulder, you sure are big and soft. You’re like a boulder made out of marshmallow, you big fat squishy pig.”

Roxy tried to pull herself away, but Kelly was too fast, and she easily danced around fat Roxy and gave her a hard spank on the ass that set her butt bouncing.

“Got a lot of broken down junk in that trunk, don’t you, Boulder? You’ve got a real big pig butt, Lard Ass.”

Kelly was past the point of trying to be clever and instead just enjoyed being heavy handed with her bullying. Therefore, her critique of Roxy’s flabby figure devolved into a series of redundantly cruel insults and name calls.

“What’s the matter, Blubber Butt? Don’t have anything to say, Fatso? Is that fat mouth of yours only good for eating? We all know how much you love to stuff your fat face, piggy. Oink. Oink.”

Behind Kelly there was a chorus of laughter as her friends always enjoyed watching Kelly work. They would have joined in with more of their own, but they were feeling rather lazy in the sun and opted to stay on their beach chairs and chuckle while working on their tans.

In front of her, Roxy was red-faced, not just from the fact that her pasty skin made it easy to burn in the sun, but because of the humiliation she was feeling, especially as Kelly reached her hand under her soft belly and began to bounce it up and down.

“Look at all this blubber. I swear. It’s bigger and heavier every time I see you. Such a gut! Such a fat, greedy gut! You HOG!”

Roxy tried to waddle away but she ended up tripping and falling to the sand. Her body jiggled furiously as she landed with a thud.

Kelly just stood there practically doubled over in laughter.

“Wow! Look at you, Fatty! You’re a real beached whale. Maybe we should roll you back into the ocean where you belong, Shamu.”

It took a long time thanks to the size of her belly and butt and the weakness of her flabby arms, but Roxy eventually managed to get herself up. She fell back down a few times, each time compounding Kelly’s cruel laughter, but she finally managed to get up and waddle away back to her family having given up on the idea of getting ice cream as soon as Kelly had purposely bumped into her and spilt strawberry smoothie all over her stomach. This was hard enough to deal with, Roxy could only imagine how merciless Kelly would be if she saw Roxy with ice cream in her chubby hands. She didn’t want to find out. Ice cream wasn’t worth the hassle.

As Roxy waddled away in defeat, Kelly couldn’t resist calling out after her.

“Damn, look at that fat ass bounce! Waddle along, Tubbo! It’s been fun hanging out, Boulder! Try not to let all that bacon fat of yours sizzle in the sun too much! Oink! Oink!”

Kelly loved watching Roxy waddle away. She loved the way her fat ass bounced up and down and slapped on her thick thighs. She loved the way her love handles wobbled with each slow ponderous step. And she especially loved the way Roxy’s thighs slapped and rubbed together making her move slow enough that Kelly had plenty of time to enjoy the show. Those chunky cellulite covered cheeks and thick thunder thighs were delightfully gross.

It was all just so damn amusing.

There was something about making fun of a fat ass like Roxy that made Kelly’s trim tummy rumble with a hunger of its own. With a smile, Kelly turned back to her friends, tossing her long, glossy, beautiful hair over her shoulders.

“I’m up for some ice cream. Who’s coming with?”

Of the four friends that Kelly had surrounded herself with that day, only Marisol responded in the affirmative. Kelly assumed this was because the other three were cowards. It made sense, Kelly had frequently chastised them for their dietary choices, especially if they ended up any softer than her usual standard. One friend, Beverly had already been banished from the group for gaining far too much weight last year. 

Kelly didn’t have room for chubby chicks in her clique, and not everybody possessed a metabolism as gifted as she did. 

Marisol was an excellent second in command. If Kelly was pressed about it, she likely would have said that Marisol was her best friend. But the truth was that Marisol was really her number lieutenant more than anything else. And Marisol was indeed good at that job. She was always willing to do whatever Kelly asked, go anywhere- like to get ice cream- and was always the first one to hype Kelly up or back her up when she was bullying someone else. 

“You really showed, Boulder. It was so funny watching you play with her fat like that. You definitely taught her a lesson,” Marisol said as the two headed to the ice cream truck. 

“Oh yeah, you’ve got to. Fat asses like that need to reminded of where they stand in life.”

“She’s so fat. It’s disgusting,” Marisol eagerly mused. 

“Tell me about it. I’d rather be dead than as fat as that pig.”

“You would never! You’re perfect.”

“Of course I am.”

Yes. Kelly and Marisol got along quite well. 

It helped that Marisol was also really hot but not quite as hot as Kelly. Kelly found that there was just the right amount of softness to Marisol, enough to signal that if she ever stepped out of line and got a little too ambitious that she could be pushed in a porkier direction. 

Kelly let Marisol pick her ice cream first, and watched the slim and sexy Marisol treat herself to a strawberry sundae. For her part, Kelly struggled to decide what to get. She wanted both chocolate and vanilla and couldn’t decide between the two. 

Sure, she could have gotten a chocolate and vanilla swirl. That would have been easy. But it also would have felt cheap. The fact of the matter was that Kelly didn’t want to settle for either. She wanted both. 

And Kelly always got what she wanted. 

So instead of a swirl, Kelly got a big double cone with a serving of chocolate and a serving of vanilla. Then she had both sides dipped in chocolate shell topping and peanuts. Kelly was looking forward to the delectable treat with its combination and smooth and crunchy, salty and sweet. 

Of course a dessert this large and decadent did bring with it a minor problem. Kelly’s choice of ice cream was far too ostentatious to be devoured in front of her other less trusted friends. Even they would have a few choice words to say if Kelly was to pig out like that in their presence. Luckily, that wasn’t much of a problem. The simple solution was that Kelly would just quickly devour the ice cream right then and there. 

Kelly expertly slid her lips over the chocolate soft serve swirl first, gently crunched the chocolate shell with her lips and then sucked a large portion of it into her mouth. A dribble of chocolate ran down the side of her mouth as she chewed on the delicious peanuts and mulled the ice cream over on her tongue. The chocolate cone went down in four big messy bites, and then she moved on to the vanilla cone. The amount of ice cream slowed her down slightly, and it took five big bites to get the vanilla side done. 

After that, Kelly got the full swirl effect. The bit off the bottom of the cone, held it above her head and then expertly guzzled down the rest of the contents before crunching on the coin, eating the whole thing and then wiping away the errant crumbs that had fallen into her bouncing cleavage.

Ice cream was one of Kelly’s guilty pleasures. She loved to guzzle it down and would do so by the gallon if it was socially acceptable. Sometimes, especially on lazy summer nights, Kelly would secret a pint of ice cream into her room and eat the whole thing like a naughty little piglet. It was such a thrill to be bad and then wake up in the morning to absolutely zero consequences because of her fantastic metabolism. It made Kelly feel unstoppable, invincible, perfect in every way.

One burp later, and Kelly realized she had another problem. If she returned to her friends with nothing in hand, they would know that Kelly and Marisol had stayed and greedily ate their ice cream right at the cart. Then they would draw all sorts of conclusions, and that wouldn’t do. Kelly needed some kind of smokescreen. 

To solve this problem, Kelly convinced Marisol that they should both buy vanilla shakes. That way they would have another delicious dessert to enjoy and could just pretend that there was an extra long line for the ice cream truck. Sure, they might end up a little bloated, but Kelly knew they could hide that by doing just a little sucking in or wading into the ocean for a bit. 

Kelly wasn’t worried about any long term consequences. After all, her metabolism was so good, she could eat whatever she wanted without getting fat. 

Life was perfect. 

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Enjoying this chapter? You could have enjoyed this chapter hours earlier and in downloadable PDF form if you were an Even More BS patron and had access to the Discord. You can upgrade your membership HERE.

And why else might it be worth it to upgrade?

I'll tell you!

"The Book of Kelly's Belly" is going to be an interactive story, something of a test for me. All paid patrons will be able to leave comments making suggestions on where they would like to see the story go, and you'll get to provide important details. I will also down the road have some polls that all patrons can vote on.

However, most polls will be exclusive to Even More BS patrons, so if you really want to shape the narrative, you're going to want to be an Even More BS patron where you get more content and control for just two dollars more.

The first poll is up now and will help set the pacing of the story overall. Do you want to see a slow burn or a faster burn? Just how fat will Kelly be by the end of summer? You can help decide by voting HERE. Once again, if you'd like, you can upgrade your membership HERE.

For everyone:

Suggest things you would like to see in the story in a comment below. I am specifically looking for name suggestions for Kelly's three other friends and what their roles in the story might be.

“Model Made to Waddle” Chapter 3

Here’s the next installment of over 8,000 words as plans start getting made and unwitting Ariel moves closer to her own demise.

Enjoy!

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The party was bumping. Music blared and the floor was filled with hot hard bodied individuals bumping and grinding up against each other. It was a beautiful night full of beautiful people.

And chief among them was Ariel.

Just as she always did, Ariel owned the room. Even dancing amongst all these people, Ariel stood out. Plenty of people stopped what they were doing to admire Ariel’s hot body and watch her every move.

One those watchers was Eleanor, and she watched with a wonderful bit of knowledge inside her. She knew that Ariel was about to go from hottie to fatty, and she was going to enjoy every moment of it. She was eager to see every pound piled onto her pretty body. She was thrilled just by the idea of watching that trim waistline of Ariel’s grow inch by inch along with the rest of her slim and sexy body going slack with soft sagging fat.

As Eleanor watched slim and sexy Ariel dance wild and free with her arms above her head, those lithe arms began to shake as they filled with fat. With each move, Ariel’s new flabby bingo flapped about.

Ariel swung her hips, and those hips grew wider. As her hips swayed, her tight bubble butt grew looser. It began to balloon outward and swing wildly. She soon had very chunky cheeks that were straining her dress, causing it to ride up and reveal more of her legs, legs that were rapidly growing as well.

Those previously slender legs were thickening with each step that Ariel took in the dance floor. The fat filled them, and any sign of tone disappeared as her new thunder thighs quivered. Their fat slapped together producing a loud and satisfying smacking sound that was like music to Eleanor’s ears.

Eleanor loved watching the way fat kept filling Ariel’s now flabby legs and working its way down to her calves and ankles and even her feet. She watched as Ariel’s feet swelled and threatened to pop the straps of her shoes.

The previously slim, sexy and graceful Ariel was now a chunky mess, and undeniably chubby chick whose flabby body was jiggling as she wobbled in high heels that now looked very out of place. Ariel’s pudgy body was packed into her dress, bulges everywhere. And she looked like an overstuffed sausage as she continued to dance without noticing what had become of her once thin and now flabby frame.

But other people were certainly starting to notice.

The hot people that Ariel was dancing with, just as gorgeous and vain as she was were starting to notice that their was a chunkster dancing amongst them. As Ariel threw back her hips and began to twerk, her bloated butt cheeks had way too much bounce to them, and they clapped together just like her thunder thighs did. The sound they made and the sight of Ariel dancing as if she was still slender while jiggling like the fat woman she was becoming earned her a lot of snickers.

Snickering went unnoticed by Ariel who kept dancing up a storm, ignoring the tightness of her dress and quivering of her flabby flesh which continued to expand. Eyes kept turning toward tubby Ariel as the fat caused the once lithe lady to lose her rhythm. Her butt cheeks were clapping on the 1 and 3.

Slowly, people started to drift away leaving just Eleanor to watch chubby Ariel gyrate and jiggle. She was really starting to break a sweat as her fat sway. Her dress looked quick to bursting, especially along the sides where her love handles had gotten exceedingly thick and formed too large bulges where the dress stuck to the folds of her flesh. Her thighs were slapping together faster and faster as the space between them grew smaller with each new layer of fat added to her plumper body.

Eventually, chunky Ariel was clearly starting to get winded on the dance floor. Now longer possessing her fit figure, the fatter woman had to slow down to catch her breath which was when Eleanor took her next cue.

“Damn, Ariel. You look tired. After dancing up a storm like that, you must be hungry.”

She led a tired Ariel to a table and had her sit her well cushioned butt down.

“You want food, don’t you?”

Breathless Ariel nodded which made her new double chin wobble.

And that’s when the real eating started.

Eleanor had Ariel start with a plate of buffalo chicken wings. The idea of the formerly glamorous model eating something so messy amused her, and she was not disappointed. Ariel practically inhaled the wings, sucking down one after another and leaving nothing but the bones. Sauce and grease quickly stained her hands, cheeks and chins.

Yes. As she ate her face grew fatter, more bloated looking. Ariel no longer had her model quality face. As she kept eating, it fittingly became much more piggish. She developed jiggly jowls and her double chin became extra doughy. Even her nose started to swell with fat. She was eating her chicken wings so fast that she was beginning to snort like a pig while chewing, something that earned her more laughter and derision from the people who were still watching from off in the shadows. Eleanor laughed as well and watched her eat wing after wing until she was bored enough to switch the food for something new.

That something was a pair of double cheese burgers which were loaded with toppings including barbecue sauce. Ariel double fisted the burgers, frantically taking a bite of one burger and then the other. Grease and barbecue sauce joined the buffalo sauce from the wings in running down her chubby cheeks and getting caught in the crevice between her chins. With each bite that filled her further, Ariel got even fatter.

Ariel’s trim tummy continued to balloon outward. Her slim waist was long gone as her bloated stomach became a full blown blubber belly which surged outward and sagged onto her fat lap and came paired with meaty love handles that started to tear through the sides of her dress. Her muffin top was now too much for her seams and the sides began to split. Slowly, fat began to ooze outward and the seams began to rip further like ziploc bags unzipping. The dress made way for more fat to spill out.

The burgers were as delicious as they were fattening, and Ariel was reduced to moaning and snorting as she gorged herself with them and grew fatter. The burgers got smaller and smaller with each bite and the girth of her gut got bigger and bigger until it was ready to completely burst from her dress.

Once the burgers were done with, it was time for mac and cheese. The ooey gooey mess stuck to Ariel’s chubby cheeks and glooped down onto her chest, which was sagging heavily but not growing nearly as fast as the rest of her fattening body.

The fattening mac and cheese also stuck to her growing thighs which filled further with fat and began to stick together. Her lap was appropriately fat and served as an excellent shelf for her sagging apron of a belly. Her thunder thighs grew to the point that if she was up and out of her seat, she would have to be waddling.

Of course, she wasn’t getting out of her chair anytime soon, not with her next helping coming her way.

This time Eleanor had Ariel working her way through a platter of peel and eat shrimp while stopping every once in a while to take big spoonfuls from a plate piled high with garlic mashed potatoes. Eleanor loved the way Ariel’s doughy double chin wobbled with every shrimp that the once greedily slender model sucked down. And the spoonfuls of mashed potatoes that she was shoveling into her fat mouth were huge. Lots of mashed potatoes and gravy ended up decorating her dress which now hung more like a bib thanks to the fact that her sides had split completely and her belly had grown so large.

The lower roll of Ariel’s segmented double belly rolled completely out from under the remains of her dress. It was saggy useless fat that pooled out over her fat lap which was also growing fatter as she ate. Her thick thighs grew thicker and pushed themselves apart more which left Ariel’s sloshy belly fat to sag between them as best it could.

The shrimp and mashed potatoes were chased with cheesy grits as Eleanor suddenly realized that that would go great with shrimp. It was a perfect pairing that helped Ariel get even pudgier.

The chair beneath Ariel started to grown as she continued to gorge herself and gain more weight. Her ass grew in every direction. With no more dress holding her back, and her panties absolutely blown off (though trapped under her fat) Ariel’s ass was free to widen out further until the sides of her chunky cellulite covered cheeks clearly sagged over the sides of the chair. She was fattening further with each bite, and her ballooning butt also began to push her upward in her seat as it filled with even more blubber. It was like her but was giving her a ride.

Ariel looked ridiculous as her fat kept actively pushing her away from the table which meant her fat arms had to really work to reach over her blubber belly and get to the food that her fat gut so desperately craved. As she reached, her massive pillowy bingo wings wobbled furiously. Her chubby mitts grabbed at the food with her fat sausage fichefs and shoved that food into her fat mouth.

Of course, there was still dessert to go. Cookies and cake crumbled in her fat fists as she shoved them into her mouth. She didn’t care for crumbs and just continued to pig out. She didn’t even care about the taste anymore. Ariel just needed to eat. And the more she ate, the fatter she got. She was already obese, but as she continued to eat she grew into a truly immense blob of fat. She was a sweating, snorting, piggish mess.

And Ariel didn’t even realize what had happened until she had grown so fat that the chair finally gave out and her obese blob of a body landed on the floor with a tremendous thud that made her blubber bounce. Her flabby body quivered for a long time while Eleanor, who Ariel’s fat body now dwarfed, walked over and sunk her hand into Ariel’s soft, squishy, blubbery gut.

“Oink for me, piggy.”

Ariel did as she was told.

“Oink. Oink. Oink.”

As Ariel oink, Eleanor played with her stomach, slapping Ariel’s sagging flesh with both hands, lift it up and down and shaking it over and over again stopping every once in a while to let it go and watch it jiggle on its own before grabbing that gelatinous gut once again.

“You’re a pig now, my pig. And you deserve this. Don’t you?”

“Oink. Oink,” was all Ariel could say.

“You know you do. You were such a vain skinny bitch who loved to make fun of others. You loved to bully fatties. And you loved to stuff your face as a joke. Well, now you can stuff your face all the time. And you will won’t you?”

“Oink. Oink.”

“That’s right. You’re going to eat and get even fatter. You want more food right now, don’t you, Fatso?”

Eleanor grinned as she sinker her hand into a big chocolate cake.

“You want this cake, Piggy? You know what I want to hear.”

Ariel looked up at Eleanor with a look of fear and desire in her wide eyes.

“Oink. Oink.”

Eleanor grabbed Ariel’s blubber belly with one hand and used their other to shove the cake into Ariel’s fat face.

Back in her bed, buried under her cheap sheets, Eleanor had a big smile on her fat face.

She knew it might take a long time, but she was determined to make Ariel as fat as she was in her dream.

Maybe even fatter.

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If you’ve been following along, you know this story started as a commission that I got stiffed on. As a result, I lost A LOT of money and on the advice of some patrons, I put the start of the story up with the understanding I would need to find people willing to donate extra money to see it continued.

Luckily, I was able to get people willing to fund the first continuation and so I doubled my output and wrote two new chapters full of new characters. Now that all the planned exposition is out of the way, it’s time to really start fattening Ariel.

Of course, that’s assuming I get more funding since I still haven’t made back the money I lost on the original commission. “Model Made to Waddle” is already at 27,000 words. If you’d like to ensure it gets continued, consider donating HERE.

Funding this story not only get “Model Made to Waddle” turned into a truly epic slow burn story, but it also earns a prequel side story about Kelly called “The Book of Kelly’s Belly” which I’m starting now. See Kelly go from vain cheerleader to chubster.

This is the only story I’m doing this with because I know people are already paying good money to be here.

Thank you for your time. I hope you’ve enjoyed this story and will consider donating to its continuation.

TEASER: More Kelly from “Model Made to Waddle”

“Model Made to Waddle” Chapter 3 is already at 5,000 words and still growing. Since I’ve already posted two things for Even More BS patrons today (although “From Fit Athlete to Fatty” will soon be available to all paid patrons) I decided to make this teaser available to all paid patrons.

If you’d like to read more of “Model Made to Waddle” Chapter 3 and make suggestions for what you’d like to see in the story. (It’s not too late to get specific requests in for this chapter) you can see another teaser and make requests HERE.

For now, enjoy this teaser.

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Kelly hated the sun. She hated the heat. When she was thinner, way back in her cheer days, she loved the sun. She always thought she would be one of those people who was slim and sexy forever with a body built for sunbathing and getting attention.

Now she was fat and frumpy, and the heat made all of her clothes cling uncomfortably to her fat sweaty body. She used to love going to the beach and showing off her body, but now being at the beach made her feel like a total pig. And she read any attention that she got as negative even if it wasn’t.

Being at the beach just made Kelly feel sad because she remembered when she was once the beautiful vain vixen in a bikini and longed for the days when she was the center of positive attention, admired, lusted after and desired. She wanted to be that beach bunny beauty again instead of-

“Kelly, get your fat ass over here!”

Instead of being a fat frumpy servant and a total loser.

Slowly, Kelly plodded her way across the sand over to Ariel. Her fat feet, clad in flip flops that were constantly kicking up sand behind her, were already sore and starting to burn in the sun. And as she struggled to cross the sand, she had to fight the urge to stop and pick a wedgie out from between her chunky cheeks.

Ariel was not amused by the amount of time it took her fat and flabby assistant to get to her.

“You take so long, you fat useless cow. Where’s my smoothie?”

“You… I just… you just had one.”

Ariel rolled her eyes at Kelly’s stammering.

“Well, I already drank that one.”

Kelly began to hyperventilate as Ariel walked up closer to her, using her model body to intimate her. And it was working. As Ariel stood dangerously close to having her trim tummy press against Kelly’s pudgy pot belly, Kelly was painfully and humiliatingly aware of the stark difference between Ariel’s fit figure and her own fat one.

While at one time in her life, Kelly had owned a body that was just as hot if not hotter than Ariel’s vaunted figure, now it was Ariel who was rocking a bikini and a stylish sarong while Kelly was sweating through a overstretched t-shirt and a pair of capri pants that she had grown out of at least ten pounds ago. She was lucky the button was still hanging on for dear life.

Ariel’s incensed finger snapping brought Kelly back to the moment at hand.

“Excuse me, earth to Fatso. We were talking about my smoothie. Where’s my second smoothie?

“I… uh… you didn’t ask for another one.”

Kelly was starting to sweat from more than just the sun.

Ariel responded to her tepid response with a hard poke to Kelly’s tubby tummy over and over again.

“Well, you’re supposed to anticipate my needs, fatty. That’s what I pay you for. Get that, Fatso?”

Kelly just nodded, double chin wobbling, and hoped that that would be enough to stop Ariel from berating her.

Ariel gave Kelly’s belly a final pinch.

“Good now get me another smoothie.”

With a heavy sigh, and even heavier footsteps, Kelly did as she was told. She plodded about to fetch another smoothie for her vain boss, all the while not only feeling belittled for her hefty size but feeling extremely jealous that Ariel felt confident enough to have two smoothies and still do a bikini photoshoot.

Kelly thought about what would happen if she had two smoothies. Surely she’d feel bloated. She’d be bloated. And the worst part was, she knew she’d still want more. She would want something to snack on with those smoothies. Maybe something like potato chips to pair the salty with the sweet, or some French fries, or chicken fingers, or loaded potato skins.

“Shit,” she thought.

It was no wonder she had gotten so fat. Even just thinking about the smoothie for Ariel was getting Kelly hungry. Her stomach rumbled with desire, something that was all too normal for Kelly. And she fought it, but as she reached catering she could help but see the delicious spread and nibble on some cheese.

Then she grazed on some fruit, a couple grapes, a strawberry, then two.

After that she hit some of the harder stuff.

She stuffed an entire handful of French fries into her mouth and practically moaned as the salt and grease danced on her tongue. Then she crunched on some potato chips and munched on some garlic and sea salt flavored pita chips dipped in hummus. After the pita chips and hummus it was back to the regular potato chips but in different flavors. There was salt and vinegar, barbecue, sour cream and onion, and extra cheesy. And she also had a variety of dips to choose from including nacho cheese, French onion dip, and creamy ranch dressing.

Kelly was in the middle of snacking on tortilla chips and guac when she remembered she was supposed to be getting Ariel her second smoothie, and, sure enough, her belly was extra bloated from the saltiness of the snacks she had just stuffed herself with.

“Shit.”

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Once again, if you’d like to see more of this chapter of “Model Made to Waddle”, you can see another teaser HERE.

Extra Slice #9 -“Too Tubby Taylor’s Troubles”

This exclusive for Even More BS patrons is a sequel to “The Fat Making Notebook Goes out to the Ball Game” featuring the once vain Taylor. It gets a little messy.

Enjoy!

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Taylor knew she was a fatty. There was no denying that. She was the kind of woman who used to love making fun of fat people, and now she was one. She had been a fit, active athlete. She had been well dressed, well groomed, poised when the moment required it, capable of being prim and proper. And, above all else she had been slim and sexy and in control.

Now, the formerly vain vixen was a total lard ass, a fat slob who had spiraled into becoming a greedy, lazy overeater. There was no hope for dieting. Taylor simply couldn’t bear to go without food. She needed to indulge. She needed to eat.

And so the numbers on the scale kept rising.

But Taylor kept eating. And soon, the formerly fit and active athlete, found that the only real exercise she got was during her short trips to the nearby grocery store. She could have just signed up for some kind of delivery service. (She ordered her meals via delivery all the time.) But when it came to buying the essentials (and by essentials we’re talking about snacks), Taylor felt complex to make the slow journey and waddle to the store.

Of course, going outside had consequences.

“Holy shit. Taylor? Is that you?”

Some of those risks included running into people who used to know her when she was far thinner. That had happened on more than one occasion, and it was never any fun. She could see the looks of pity on people’s faces when they gazed upon her girthy body. However, most seemed to smile with a wild sense of schadenfreude. Ex-boyfriends looked like they dodged a big fat bullet. Old enemies enjoyed their revenge. Even former friends looked pleased to see the previously vain and arrogant athlete taken down a few pegs and turned into a big fat pig.

One of these worst of these encounters was when Taylor ran into her old friend and rival, Jennifer.

“Jesus Christ, I almost didn't recognize you because your face got so fucking fat. I mean, like, all of you got super fucking fat- you’re just- just wow- so huge. But your face? Holy shit your face is like- you look like an absolute pig. Yeah. That’s right. You look piggish. That’s why I could barely tell it’s you. You’re so fat you could be unrecognizable. But I just… I just kinda sensed it, you know?”

Jennifer was floored as she looked from Taylor’s obese body, which was clad in nothing more than a top tight and food stained t-shirt and a pair of greasy sweatpants, to her cart which was piled high with junk food.

“When did you get so fat?”

The once confident Taylor averted her gaze and let her had droop down in shame which caused her double chin to inflate further.

“I… I don’t know. It just sorta… happened.”

Jennifer scoffed.

“It just sorta happened? You just kinda blew up into an obese whale? That’s probably an even better word than piggy. You’re an absolute lard filled land whale. Like, I can’t get over it. You used to be so freakin’ hot. You used to be so put together, glamorous, slim and sexy. And now? Now you’re just a fat slob.”

She looked Taylor up and down trying to really commit every fat inch of her to memory. And when that didn’t suffice, Jennifer took out her phone and began snapping picture after picture from a variety of angles. As she did so, she also shook her and and made several loud tsking noises with her tongue.

“Seriously. You don’t look like you take care of yourself at all. You look like a lazy blob, a gross bloated couch potato who spends all her time just sitting on her fat ass, gorging herself on snacks and getting fatter by the day. How’s your couch doing? I bit you miss it. It must be pretty tough for a whale of your size to be waddling about out here in the wild. Oh my god. Does your couch have a permanent indent in it from your big fat ass sitting on it so much?”

Jennifer was really getting on a roll, and as she looked at the way her Taylor’s too tight t-shirt ling to her fat rolls, Jennifer’s laughter became a practical cackle.

Like a shark, she began to circle her former rival until she stopped to take full stock of the sheer size of Taylor’s previously shapely and now white blobish butt.

“I know it. I just know it. Your fat ass has got its own personal couch groove. That’s so fucking funny to think about, Taylor who used to be so fit, so slim and sexy and vain, always looking down at others for having just a little bit of extra weight, is so fat, so morbidly obese, that her collosal ass cheeks have dug a permanent indent into her couch. How pathetic! How hilarious! But, hey, it’s okay. You can crush those cushions as much as you want. You’ve got plenty to back you up.”

Jennifer, caught up in her own enjoyment of the situation, hit Taylor’s big butt with a double handed spanking which caused the once dominant diva to yelp. In response, Jennifer spanked her again and really took in the softness that yielded to her hands. She gave her full cheeks a squeeze just to really understand and appreciate how big Taylor’s blubbery butt was. Each cheek could have been grabbed by two hands and still not been able to contain it fully.

“Damn! Your ass is fat- we’re talking huge, a broken down dump truck, a definite wide load. Holy shit you’ve got a lot of blubber in this big fat butt. I hope you’re careful because you’re towing around a pair of wrecking balls back here. Your butt is just so…. so bulbous.”

Then, to Taylor’s surprise, Jennifer took her slender hands and pressed them against Taylor’s blubbery belly.

“And your gut! Holy shit. This is huge too!”

She began to knead the lower roll of Taylor’s globular gut as if it were dough.

“I just… there’s so much of it. And it’s so soft and squishy and like… warm. It feels like just- this is some belly butter right here. You’ve got a big fat blubber belly. I can’t believe it because you used to have abs. Like, you loved your abs. You loved showing off your abs constantly. I remember all the crop tops your used to wear so you could flaunt your trim torso.”

Jennifer took her time to really drink in the sad sight of Taylor’s sweaty stomach, previously tight and toned and now a preposterously tubby tummy, as that spare tire surged outward and sagged downward, spilling out from under Taylor’s too tight t-shirt and giving her a massive muffin top thanks to the inclusion of her lard filled love handles.

“I guess all your shirts are crop tops now with a blubber belly like this huh? I bet this spare tire of yours has a mind of its own. This sack of fat just loves to spill out from under your shirts and announce itself, doesn’t it? And I bet you’re not wearing sexy blouses anymore. I imagine it’s hard to button up around this belly. I’m sure your girthy gut is a real button buster.”

Despite herself, and perhaps because of the anxiety of the situation, Taylor’s tummy began to rumble, something that Jennifer immediately pounced on.

“Sounds like you’re hungry. You’re like that all the time aren’t you? That’s why you’ve got all this food. You’re such a greedy pig. You can’t stop stuffing yourself. You have no control. You’re such a fat loser, such a greedy gluttonous cow. You want to be eating right now, don’t you?”

Jennifer grabbed a small bag of pita chips from a nearby shelf and shoved it into Taylor’s chest.

“Go ahead. It’s on me, piglet.”

Taylor couldn’t help herself. She was too hungry and she tore into the bag of pita chips much to Jennifer’s delight.

“That’s right. Eat up.”

And that’s just what Taylor did, cramming pita chips into her mouth with no regard to the crumbs she was leaving behind.

“God, I can’t believe you’re doing it. But this is what you want. You love this. You love eating.”

Within moments, most of the bag was gone, though much of it had landed in places other than Taylor’s mouth, something Jennifer made sure to make note of.

“You’re such a messy pig. It’s gross. Look at you, you fat slob. You don’t care about the crumbs you’re getting all over you. You gonna dig them out from between your fat pancake tits later for a snack, Fatso? That’s so sad. You’re such a sloppy sow. And…”

As Jennifer leaned forward to more closely inspect the mess Taylor was making, she sniffed the air and caught wind of the sour stench emanating from Taylor’s once pristine body.

“Damn, Taylor. I’ve gotta be honest. You smell like a slob too. You are one ripe fatty. I mean, I get it. A fat lady filled with as much lard as you probably sweats all the time, and all those fat folds must be pretty hard to reach. But seriously, you need to try a little harder, you sweaty hog. Being obese is no excuse to slack on the hygiene. It’s bad enough that you’re too lazy to exercise. You’re too lazy to clean properly too, stinky.”

Taylor stretched her fat arms and desperately pressed her chubby hands underneath her wet armpits in a futile attempt to cut off the smell, but it was too little too late, especially now that Jennifer was so keenly aware and amused by it.

“It’s funny because you used to be so glamorous and stylish, prim and proper. And now you’re this fat slob, a total piggish loser who reeks. You’ve got crumbs all over you, that big sauce stain from who knows what, and huge sweat stains too. Your hairy is greasy and frizzy. You look disgusting, and it’s not just the massive amount of weight that you’ve put on. You used to be so elegant, slim and sexy, and now you’ve just let yourself go in every way imaginable.”

Taylor couldn’t take it anymore and turns as quickly as her large body would allow to waddle to the checkout and leave as soon as she could. She would have been quicker, but she would be damned before she abandoned her snacks.

And in that moment of weakness, Jennifer wasn’t ready to let her go either.

“Oh, you’re going to try to waddle away now, Fatso? You have to waddle with those thick as shit thunder thighs. Those flabby drumsticks are huge. It’s disgusting to watch your fat butt cheeks flop onto the back of your flabby tree-trunk like thunder thighs. And pull up your damn pants! I don’t want to see the top of your stanky, swamp ass complete with that fucking plumber’s crack, you pig! You’re disgusting!”

Sweaty Taylor threw her snacks onto the checkout counter and fished for her money while Jennifer dogged her.

“You had it all Taylor, and you let yourself go. You turned yourself into a fat slob, a fat, sweaty, foul smelling, gluttonous slob. You are worse than anyone you ever made fun of, you fat cow.”

Taylor finished paying and waddled out of the store as fast as her fat legs would carry her. Her thunder thighs chafed fiercely and her fat arms struggled to carry all her groceries as Jennifer still chased her out the store.

“Yeah. Keep waddling. I’m done with you anyway. You’re so fat, it’s boring to keep making fun of you. I’ve got plenty of pictures to show people. I’m sure I’ll get a kick out of making fun of you again with them. And you, my formerly fit princess turned pathetic pig, I bet you’re going to go home, sit on your busted ass couch, and stuff that fat face of yours. Aren’t you?”

As Taylor waddled down the block, she heard Jennifer calling after her one last time.

“You’re pathetic! Weak, fat, smelly, and pathetic!”

And Jennifer’s words haunt Taylor for the rest of her journey home.

Once home, Taylor lumbered over to the couch and sunk down into it. It creaked under her weight, but Taylor ignored it in favor of getting right to eating her feelings. She dove into her meal, ready to stuff herself and planning on going absolutely whole hog.

She skipped right ahead to dessert, grabbing a spoon she had left in nearby bowl this morning and plunging it right into a tub of vanilla ice cream. The delicious ice cream elicited a pathetic moan from Taylor as it slid down her throat. She hated how much she needed it, hated how much fatter it was destined to make her. But she craved it. She needed it. She stuck the spoon back into the tub of ice cream and stuffed her face with more.

It didn’t matter when the ice cream was starting to melt. It didn’t matter how much of it ended up dribbling down her chins, into her cleavage and onto her belly. Taylor kept going. The formerly fit woman stuffed herself with ice cream like the pig that she had become.

After the was done with the ice cream, Taylor threw the carton to the floor and huffed and puffed as she rocked herself back and forth until she got into a position where she could reach the grocery bags and pull out a container of her next victims, some cookies.

The cookies crumbled into her mouth and all over her chest and lap. She ate one after another, stuffing whole cookies into her mouth greedily. She hate so fast that her breathing became erratic snorting as she ate more and more as fast as she could.

Taylor was sweating just from the exertion of eating so much so fast, and her body odor, which was funky to begin with, was getting worse. But that was something Taylor no longer cared about. The old Taylor would have been mortified, but fat ass Taylor was nothing like fit Taylor. Fat ass Taylor didn’t care about appearances or body odor. Foul Smelling Fat Ass Taylor just cared about eating no matter how ripe her armpits were or how swampy her fat ass got.

Once the cookies were done, Taylor moved onto to a container of cupcakes she had purchased. They weren’t the mini-kind either. But they still went down quickly, one after another, stuffed completely into her mouth. The along thing left of them were some crumbs in Taylor’s cleavage and a smattering of frosting around her lips.

Taylor burped, loud and unladylike.

And then she moved on to a family sized bag of potato chips, and began plowing through it. They were greasy and delicious, and she was determined to work her way through the entire bag. Taylor was dead set on eating her feelings today, so she kept stuffing her fat face with more and more chips.

Taylor used to be an athlete, and now the only thing she was good for was stuffing herself with food like a competitive eater. And the only one she was competing with was her fat self as she stuffed her face and stuffed down any memories of the fit athlete she used to be.

When she started to slow down and needed more room, Taylor simply lifted one fat leg and let out a massive fart. It was such a far cry from anything she would have done when she was slim and sexy. Her formerly fit self would have been horrified, but this was just another day in her fat life again, and after releasing another slightly smaller burst of flatulence, Taylor went back to work on the bag of chips until it was completely empty.

After that, she took a nap and began dreaming of what she would order for dinner.

“From Fit Athlete to Fatty”- Patreon Exclusive

Here is a sequel to Katie’s story in “A Fat Making Notebook”. It’s in early access to Even More BS members until Saturday/Sunday when it releases to all paid patrons and remains exclusive to Patreon.

Enjoy!

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Katie was a fat woman now, an extreme fat woman. She had memories of being athletic once, of being slim and sexy and dominant. She was a world class bully, a true vixen who wielded her looks and her athletic talents like a weapon. But those memories seemed so far away now that they felt like nothing more than dreams. Sometimes at night she would dream of being slim and athletic again, but in the end her mornings were always the same.

She woke up fat.

Her big blubbery belly was the first thing Katie noticed every morning. She liked to sleep on her back, so when she woke up each morning and started to stir, her fat belly sloshed from side to side. It was like a very heavy plate of jello was resting on top of her. It jiggled with the slightest movement and had the ability to act like a really good pillow given its girth and general squishiness. Katie frequently found herself resting her chubby hands on her plush belly fat, and she felt the way they sunk into her soft flesh.

Sometimes, when she woke up, Katie would lay there for a long time just holding onto her belly and making it shake over and over again. Up and down. Left and right. Fast then slow. She would slap it like a drum, pinch it, roll it between her fingers. She’d grab the lower roll of her belly and pull it upward like she was pulling on taffy and then let it snap back and jiggle into place.

In those moments she daydreamed of having abs. She’d prod her flabby stomach as if she was looking for any sign of the muscle that had once been under there, but by now it was fat all the way down, a seemingly endless amount of layers of fat on top of layers of fat. She was fat. Her tummy had gone from toned to tubby to fat to grotesquely obese. It was a massive gut, and it was greedy with gluttonous hunger.

Eventually, that hunger was what finally got Katie to cave and try to get herself up and out of bed. She would eventually succeed, but it took a large amount of effort to get her large lard filled body out of bed. First she started with her big belly. She let the blubber slosh to the side and then used that momentum to carry her onto her side. Once there, she inched herself over to the side of the bed until her gut spilled over the edge.

Using her gut to once again keep the momentum going, Katie used her sack of fat to swing her forward and then brought one of her fat drumstick legs to the floor. From there she was able to brace herself so she didn’t fall over. Her entire obese body quivered and shook as her fat feet hit the floor. And from there was able to get herself up and waddling about.

The waddling was thanks to how truly tremendous her cellulite covered thunder thighs were. She remembered that at some point she used to be really good at running, but now the thought of even walking normally was laughable to her. Thanks to all the lard that filled her legs, the fat of her thunder thighs touched all the way down to her knees- and drooped over them- which forced her to leave with a very wide stance and reduced her movement to a slow awkward shuffle.

While she waddled, her ass wobbled too. It was impressive in size but also had an immense amount of sag. Her chunky cheeks, which were still growing fatter by the day, sagged downward and rested on the backs of her titanic thunder thighs. They made her rise up in whatever seat she sat in. She filled most seats she sat in and then some, and she often found herself needing two chairs to feel truly comfortable thanks to the bulbous nature of her blubbery butt cheeks.

As she waddled about, her breasts swung quite a bit too, but to Katie this just helped to call attention to how much smaller they were compared to the rest of her fat body. They were technically quite large; the muscles under her back fat rolls told her that. But the rest of her body was positively massive. She was a truly super big beautiful woman.

Eventually, once Katie was done admiring her fat luscious body, she waddled her way downstairs where Emily and an enormous breakfast was waiting for her in the kitchen.

“Bout time you got down here, piggy. Now let’s get to work. I don’t want any of this breakfast to go to work.”

The two fat women chowed down together. They stuffed their faces with pancakes and bacon and sausage. They ate sides of hashbrowns and fruit covered in cream. The two fat ladies ate and ate and ate with Katie taking the lead in terms of both speed and quantity, and when Katie started to slow down, Emily took to feeding her by hand.

“Come on, my piggy. You can do it. You want more don’t you?”

Katie nodded eagerly which caused her doughy double chin to bounce, and then she eagerly opened her mouth so that Emily could put more food in it just like she wanted.

This became a regular ritual filled with food and belly rubs, and once her feast was down Katie was barely able to make it over to the couch where her obese body had left a permanent indent, and the settled down, with a loud creaking sound, to take a long nap on the couch.

Of course, breakfast was only one meal of the day, and by the time lunch came around, Emily was up for being a lot more vocal… and handsy.

“You’re such a naughty piggy aren’t you,” said Emily as she ran her hands up and down the sides of Katie’s fat body.

It wasn’t easy given how large Emily’s own belly and breasts were. She really had to reach to get her arms along Katie’s wide sides where she could pinch and squeeze Katie’s meaty love handles.

“Yes I am. I’m a naughty piggy,” moaned Katie as she shivered in response to Emily’s touch.

“A greedy piggy,” whispered Emily as she gently nibbled on the lobe of Katie’s ear.

Katie was too entranced by Emily’s actions to move or even say anything in response. Even her next moan was caught in her throat.

So Emily sunk her hands into Katie’s thick thighs and pressed her furth.

“A naughty, greedy sloppy piggy.”

The pinching of Katie’s thighs elicited a snort and a response from her. As Emily began to slap Katie’s more than tubby tummy from side to side, the two fell into a steady rhythm.

“I’m a naughty, greedy, sloppy piggy.”

“My naughty, greedy, sloppy piggy.”

“I’m your needy, greedy, sloppy piggy.”

“And you love it, don’t you?”

“I do. I do. I do. I love it.”

“You want this don’t you?”

“Yes. God! Yes! I want this. I’ve always wanted this. I’m yours.”

“Then show me.”

“Oink for me, Piggy.”

“Oink! Oink! OINK! OINK! OINK!”

Emily’s laugh was harsh but strangely welcoming. She pinched Katie hard on the thighs which was an incredible turn on that turned her oinking in a nice loud high pitched squeal. Next, Emily took her hands and victoriously slapped them against the sides of Katie’s thick thunder thighs.

“You’re so pathetic, and you know it. You’re such a sweet little sow now, just like you wanted all along. It’s hard to believe you were ever an athlete. I mean look at this. Look at this gut.”

She slid on hand inside the crease made by Katie’s segmented belly and then slid it down to tightly grip the lower roll.

“Damn. I know I’m fat, but this is just massive. Go ahead. Feel my belly. You know you want to. Give it a good squeeze.”

With her other hand, Emily guided the willing Katie’s hand to her own soft spongy gut so that Katie could feel the difference and understand just how much the two had switched positions.

“Yeah. I remember when you were slim and sexy and used to make fun of this gut of mine. But now yours is so much bigger, isn’t it?”

“Sooo much bigger,” Katie moaned.

“That’s right, piggy. You’re carrying a lot more belly butter. You’ve got a massive gut. I love it. It’s so soft. So squeezable. I wouldn’t change a thing. And neither would you.”

“You’re right.”

Emily made motion, gave her a stern look, and Katie knew what to do. She loved this part.

With great effort, the formerly athletic Katie pushed herself up from her seats and bent herself over so Emily could spank her big fat ass.

“Well, maybe there’s one thing. I bet you want to get even fatter, don’t you?”

The spanks came hard, just like they both liked it, and every time Emily’s chubby hand hit Katie’s broad backside, her whole body quivered. The jiggling started with her generous glutes, but it quickly radiated outward from her bloated buttcheeks and featured a lot of shaking from her flabby stomach. Her gelatinous gut had spilled out and was hanging uselessly along with her breasts which hung like cow udders.

“Fatter. Fatter. Yes. Fatter.”

Each new spank came in rhythm to Katie’s words and moans.

Emily loved it just as much if not even more than her piggy, her former bully.

“Of course you want to get fatter, my sweet simple piggy. You’re such a shameless lazy hog now only fit for stuffing your face. You just want to lounge around eating more and more. You can’t get enough. You’re such a big greedy piggy. Well, okay then. Let’s get you fed. What do you say, piggy? Would you like that?”

Katie was panting. The spanking had taken a lot out of her in the best way possible.

“Y-yes. I would like that. I would like that very much.”

The winded Katie sat back down which made the chairs creak underneath her obese body.

Emily, laughing, came around and began to massage Katie’s fat neck.

“It’s cute how pathetic you are, how desperate. I love it. And I’m going to love feeding you almost as much as you love eating.”

Emily gave Katie’s ear another bite and then waddled into the kitchen to get the feast she had prepared for her pet piggy.

The mac and cheese tasted so good. It was heavy, just like Katie, and filled her stomach quickly, but it slid down her throat silky smooth. In between bites of mac and cheese, Katie found doughnuts being stuffed into her fat face. Emily was a master of switching things up between sweet and savory to keep Katie going for as long as she could. By keeping Katie’s taste buds off guard, the already greedy glutton was able to eat so much more. With each bite, Katie’s fat stomach stretched out further, surging further onto her fat lap which was extra wide nowadays thanks to the supreme thickness of her thunder thighs.

Katie looked like quite the sight. She used to be a dominant athlete, lean and mean- oh so many. She was once the epitome of vanity. Sure she ate a lot when she was in season, but she was never what one would classify as an overeater. If anything, Katie’s entire life had been about one word, control. Katie was in control of herself and other people at all times. That’s how she stayed so fit and sexy and popular.

But this Katie was stuffing her face, belly bouncing up and down as she clapped like an idiot and oinked like a pig for more food hand fed to her by the same fat woman she had once spent so long making fun of. Katie wasn’t in charge any more, any illusion of control was long gone. She was a willing pet piggy now, a sow to be stuffed.

And Katie loved it all.

There was this strange thrill about giving up control, about choosing to be Emily’s dutiful girlfriend and pet piggy. She loved the act of eating. She loved getting fatter and fatter. When people looked at her now and snickered, when she felt what it was like to be on the other end of being made fun of, she felt a tingle go up her spine, and it made her eat more and more. Every joke, name, unkind word, it drove her to grab another snack, to fill her face with another fattening treat and moan. She wanted more.

She always wanted more.

And Emily was there to give it to her. She was there with more food, with more everything.

That included spraying whipped cream and chocolate syrup on her breasts and have Katie lick it all up. She loved the feeling of Katie’s tongue working so diligently on her body the way she worked her way across every inch of her body and every crevice.

For someone who was once so dominant, Katie took to serving very well. Her willingness was unquestionable. She was an eager woman on her hands and knees getting fed and eating out.

She was such a good pig.

A willing pig.

A fatty who couldn’t get enough of living the pig life.

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If you'd like to see Taylor's sequel story "Too Tubby Taylor's Troubles", Even More BS Patrons can read it right HERE.

“The Fat Making Notebook Goes Out to the Ball Game Part 4”

Here is the conclusion of “The Fat Making Notebook Goes Out to the Ball Game” but don’t worry, there are TWO Patreon exclusive spin off stories that will be coming out. One will be about Katie and Emily and will be in early access to Even More BS patrons before being released to all patrons since I currently do not have access to my Discord to do the early release there. And another story will be focused on Taylor and be exclusively for Even More BS patrons.

If you haven’t read part three, you can do so HERE.

Enjoy!

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Katie glared down the first base line as she made her way to the plate. She was looking at Tubby Taylor though she knew the term tubby hardly did the obese slob justice. Titanic Taylor, that was really more like it, or Tub of Lard Taylor. She’d be sure to workshop changing the fat girl’s cruel nickname after the game, especially if fatty couldn’t leg out whatever sure fire hit Katie was about to deliver her.

As Katie continued to think while walking up to the plate, she found it hard to believe that Taylor was once so tight and toned. She remembered that just last season Taylor had been the second most athletic girl on the team, next to Katie herself of course. What had happened to the once slim and sexy blonde to turn her into such a hopelessly obese hog in such a short amount of time? Uncontrolled appetite? Glandular problem? Katie couldn’t remember. And the more she tried to remember the more she found herself suddenly not caring about remembering.

It didn’t matter how Taylor got fat. That’s what Katie ended up telling herself. What mattered was that Taylor was fat. As stupid as it was to be a fatty, it was normal. Taylor had gone and wasted her potential and turned into a complete wide load, a piggy, an absolute whale. She was hot and now she was just another disgusting loser worthy of scorn. Most importantly, Taylor was a fatass stuck on first base, and Katie was angry that she’d have to wait for piggy to somehow plod her way around the bases.

“Fatso better run fast enough to at least clear second so I can get a double,” thought Katie.

But she also thought that it was far more likely that Tub of Lard Taylor would get thrown out at second base even if Katie hit it all the way to the wall.

Meanwhile, as Katie was making her way down the line to take her place at home plate, Asami was in the stands with notebook in hand writing down a paragraph that would change Katie’s life forever, turning her from a college softball diva to just plain soft.

“Katie will gain weight for every foot she runs around the bases. She will develop an incredible appetite to ensure that even beyond this at bat she will be destined to be a big fat fatty. She will become a weak submissive slob and everyone will think she’s just normally become that way over time. Her clothes will barely stretch and will showcase her weight gain.”

As Katie walked up to the plate, she couldn’t help but look back at the dugout and see Emily there, glaring at her. There was something different about the equipment manager. She was suddenly so much more confident, so much more in control, so much more… attractive.

Asami was too far away to notice the glint in Katie’s eyes as she looked over at Emily. Any kind of spark certainly wasn’t something she had put there, but if she had noticed it she still would have been thrilled. It certainly set the stage for some interesting things in the future. Maybe she was inadvertently helping Katie unlock something after all.

Katie got up to the plate and took another practice swing to get her mind off of Emily. As she did so, she looked back down to Taylor, fat winded Taylor, and once again the anger brewed up inside her. Sure, that lard ass had succeeded in getting her fat but to first base, but now what? Her thunder thighs were practically calling for a force out at second. Even if Katie were to knock the ball deep into the outfield for what would normally be an easy double, Taylor's lard filled body didn’t exactly give off the vibe of the kind of person who was capable of getting from first all the way to third in time. If Katie didn’t hit a homerun, that waddling whale was going to get stranded on second at best and be in her way with lesser batters to go. Those other batters weren’t guaranteed to do much against this pitcher even if the pitcher was a total lardo as well. She at least really knew how to throw her weight around.

The pressure was on.

But the fact of the matter was, even as the pressure to get a hit increased, even as her brain tried to focus on what she needed to do to overcome Tubby Taylor’s obvious issues, Katie’s mind was plagued by something far beyond the game.

Katie just couldn’t shake Emily’s words from her mind. As she readied her batting stance, she could have sworn that her thighs felt looser, fatter. She could feel her ass sagging down, weighing heavier with soft squeezable blubber. She lifted up her bat and it was like her arms tingled with weakness. They felt flabby and pathetic. As she swung the bat, she felt her arms jiggle with phantom fat.

Strike one.

Her head shook, and, even though the back of her mind was telling Katie that she had a double chin that jiggled when she did so, she knew this wasn’t true. That didn’t stop it from feeling true. As she readied herself and watched a ball go by, she still struggled with feeling the weight of a body that was much fatter than her reality. It felt like she was truly obese. It was like every extra pound that she imagined was on her body weighing her down and holding her in place. She knew she had to ignore that image, just like she had to ignore the warm growing sensation between her legs, but that was hard to do as she swung again and couldn’t help but feel a big blubbery belly slosh around as she did so.

There was nothing there of course. For the moment, she was still just as slim and fit as ever.

Strike two.

Katie could feel the game and her figure slipping away from her, but she had control over at least one of those things.

Meanwhile, up in the stands, Asami watched and waited. She had a feeling in her large stomach that she hadn’t felt in a while, a feeling of uncertainty. Ever since she had found the fat making notebook, Asami had felt in control. But something about Katie had made her want to gamble. She thought it would be so much fun to watch Katie’s own vaunted athleticism be her downfall. Sure, she had hedged her bets a bit with the appetite thing, but she was really hoping Katie would at least plunk out a single and become a plump little porker.

The ball shot off the bat like a rocket with a crack that was heard by everyone on the field and in the stands. By the sound alone, it was clear where that ball was headed.

Out.

Taylor’s eyes went wide, and her heavy shoulders sunk. Her big blubbery belly bounced disappointingly at the realization that she would now have to go all the way from first around the bases without stopping. The only positive- she thought as she began her slow waddle around the bases- was that she wouldn’t have to run. Still, she got all of five steps and was already starting to feel the strain on her fat body as her thighs rubbed together and her ass shook while she swung her body weight forward and started to waddle around the bases like a fat, awkward, lazy penguin.

Katie twirled her bat and pumped her fist, happy to give that fat loser Taylor a head start moving her big blubber butt along the bases before Katie began her own celebratory trip. She smiled because she knew a homerun was the only way she was bringing that fat hog Taylor around the bases. And she couldn’t help but look back toward the dugout toward the voluptuous Emily who couldn’t stop herself from smiling too.

Up in the stands, Asami was smiling as well. She had a devilish grin stretched across her fat face as she thought about what she had written in her notebook, that Katie would gain a pound for every foot she ran around the bases.

Reader, the length between each base on a standard college level softball field is 60 feet.

It was fitting that the first place the new weight began to settle was in Katie’s feet. With every victorious bounce she took, her feet landed with just a little bit more padding on them. That additional padding quickly began to work its way upward. With each new step the fat shot upward like toothpaste being rolled out of the container. Her fit body began to blossom with blubber. The fat filled her ankles and caressed her calves as it slid upward into her thighs.

It was subtle at first. She would step and there would be a shudder where there was none before. With each step, the rippling of her thighs grew more pronounced, eventually becoming a full tremor as her thighs kept growing thicker. The quivering flesh started to stretch the fabric of her pants before she even made it halfway to first base. Soon the fat would be slapping together and they would truly earn the title of thunder thighs.

Her shapely ass also earned more shape. It got bigger and rounder and developed a considerable bounce thanks to all the soft squishy fat that laid itself on top of the thick muscle that still laid underneath. Her butt cheeks grew more bloated with fat as she trucked along, and the bouncing grew more pronounced. And the fleshy orbs took greater bounces with each victorious stride.

Their bouncing was matched by the bouncing of her brand new belly. The abs that Katie had taken so much pride in were covered over by a fresh layer of fat, soft flab that was beautifully pliable and with enough give to make it jiggle as she made her way to first. Those first sixty feet and therefore sixty pounds added an impressive amount of inches to her waistline, and, along with a grow gut, she also sprouted some significantly sized love handles.

Her arms were getting softer too, and since every step was starting to take a little more effort and she had to swing her arms more to keep moving, the jiggling of her once firm biceps became increasingly noticeable. What was becoming less noticeable was the size of her breasts which were not growing at nearly the same rate as the rest of her body, and as Katie began to round first base with her already significantly rounded body, her breasts had gotten noticeably saggier but were otherwise relatively untouched.

Rounding first continued to add to her roundness. Without realizing it, sixty feet from first to second meant that previously slim and sexy Katie was poised to pack on sixty more pounds. And that blubber filled her body fairly fast.

Katie’s legs continued to quiver as thighs that were once thick with muscle became thick with fat. Her celebratory strut was really starting to become much more of a plod as her thighs shook with each new step. She wasn’t quite waddling yet, but she was getting closer and closer to it as her thigh fat began regularly slapping together earning the title of thunder thighs.

The real waddling was happening right in front of her as the fat and sluggish Taylor was really struggling to keep her obese and out of shape body moving. The amount of air that she was forced to suck in as she struggled to plod along caused her redundantly plump belly to quiver and shake and spill further out of her now very sweaty jersey. Her plump muffin top became more and more evident as the uniform shirt rolled up further, exposing her deep belly button and even more of her flabby flesh with each labored step.

Behind Taylor’s blubbery bouncing butt, but continuing to up, was Katie whose bouncing butt cheeks were becoming more and more bloated. Her bum grew bigger and softer, and for the first time her breathing started to become labored as her big blubbery booty began to act like a bulbous anchor, weighing her down and slowing her stride, a stride that got slower as her thunder thighs continued to increase in size as well.

Katie’s belly began to take on more blubber, growing in girth at a rate that was faster than the rest of her. Her belly now surged outward and began to noticeably flop up and down, untucking her uniform shirt and putting extra strain on the buttons. Between those buttons, gaps began to form thanks to the blubber that was filling Katie’s belly. And as the belly bounced, the fat that was there wiggled and pushed itself through those gaps. It made her belly bounce in an uneven manner. Where there was still fabric, flab would be pushed back, and where there were gaps, the fat would rush forward to fill them every time her big belly flopped up and down.

Her arms grew flabbier as did her breasts, but Katie’s belly took the brunt of this gain along with her previously toned butt cheeks. Her blubbery belly now officially dwarfed her soft, saggy breasts which made them look even smaller by comparison.

Even her simple victory stride was starting to get tough as Katie rounded second base one hundred and twenty pounds heavier than she had begun. She looked ridiculously out of shape and was starting to become quite out of breath as her entire fat body shook with each now labored step. She was officially waddling instead of walking now, and her pace had slowed significantly from her previously light jog. Obviously, there was nothing light about her now. She was a blubbery beauty.

In front of her was still Taylor who was now closer than ever because of how sluggishly her fat ass was running. But as Katie grew fatter and fatter her own awkward waddling gait grew slower. The gap between them stopped shrinking as their weights grew closer together. By this point, Katie had surpassed the size of the fat pitcher hse had hit the homerun off of and looked like the kind of lard ass who would not have been capable of such a feat.

And in the back of her mind, Katie was incredibly turned on.

Somewhere, deep inside her, behind all the fatphobic hate, there had always been the woman who secretly longed to let go, to be on the other side. It was humiliating for sure and also incredibly arousing as she felt her thick, flabby thunder thighs, now squeezed like overstuffed sausages in her pants, rub together and force her to waddle. And that waddling became more pronounced with each new step that her fat feet took.

By this point, Katie’s face had grown round as well. It had valiantly fought off the fat for a while, but now what was once just a slight softness became a decided doughiness as she developed jiggly jowls and a thick double chin. That doughy double chin of hers had a prominent and permanent wobble of its own as it shook with every shaky breath that the now out of shape athlete took. Every part of her kept growing larger, fatter, softer. Her bingo wings became more prominent. Her breasts grew heavier, and her thighs kept growing thicket. But it was her butt and belly that still took the brunt of her new blubber.

Her butt was like a broken shelf as it jutted out behind her but also sagged downward and slapped against the back of her thick thunder thighs. Her blubbery butt cheeks now shook with an even greater ferocity and threatened to spill over the top of her pants which would have revealed her cellulite covered cheeks to the world. Katie’s butt was now soft and round and incredibly squeezable. It was crammed into pants that were threatening to burst out behind her, but her butt wasn’t even the biggest part of her fat body.

That crown went to her big blubbery belly. Katie’s abs were long gone, replaced by a gut that jutted out in front of her and spilled forward out from under her uniform shirt. Her flabby tummy sloshed about and sagged like an apron of sweaty fat until it slapped against her thunder thighs, something that slowed her down considerably. Katie was quite the sight with flabby thighs that were getting slapped by fat on almost all sides. They smashed themselves together. Her belly slapped them in front and her butt cheeks clapped them from behind. The only part of her not getting slapped around, her outward facing saddlebags, were still pressed tightly against the fabric of her overtaxed pants.

And she was still getting bigger.

Both Katie and Taylor looked like comical figures, two extremely fat ladies trying to exert far more energy than their fat bodies were meant to and moving at a snail’s pace. The thrill of Katie’s home run had long been sucked out of the crowd as they now were stuck watching the sluggish fat women slowly plod their way around the bases. Cheers had turned to jeers, plenty of scornful laughter and lots of oinking and name calling as the impatient crowd waited for the fatties to finish their sloppy sojourn so they could get back to watching actual softball action.

Amongst the crowd, Asami kept smiling as Katie kept growing wider.

The distance from home plate seemed interminable as Katie stood on third base for a moment to catch her breath. Of course, stood was a generous term. She was doubled over with one fat foot on third as her fat hands pressed into the fat just above her knees. She was barely standing, but her fat body was sweating profusely, and she sucked in air so quickly and desperately that it created a loud snorting sound, fitting for how much of a fat pig she had become.

And she still had sixty feet and sixty pounds to go.

Those pounds settled themselves where all the rest had, primarily in her belly and butt but with plenty to share all over her flabby body. That body of her quaked as she took each of her last sluggish steps plodding along those final sixty feet between third base and home plate.

Katie’s athletic thighs were chafing from the incredible friction brought on by fat rubbing against fat. She could feel the holes made in the fabric made by her thigh fat which was now poking through. Her bulbous butt cheeks continued their unceasing bouncing, and the tops of them permanently crested over her pants giving her a prominent plumber’s crack that was impossible to get rid of. Sweat rolled down the folds of fat that now comprised her wide back and made its way into her cavernous butt crack.

Her gluttonous apron of a belly spilled out in front of her. It was the centerpiece of her sweaty muffin top and sagged fully like an apron across the front of her thighs and threatened to reach her fat knees. Her big blubbery belly still had plenty of bounce to it, but the lower part of her belly, since she had a spare tire that was now so big that it had segmented itself, stayed far lower thanks to its incredible heft. The upper portion of her belly still bounced high and also doubled as a shelf that her bloated, saggy, puppy fat breasts sadly sat on top of. Of course, her gelatinous gut and globular glutes may have had the most pounds packed on to them, but they were not the only places.

Katie’s arms were now comically fat with bingo wings so large that are flabby biceps now pushed themselves off of her fat sides and stuck out awkwardly. She had great big flabby ham hock arms and a piggish face to go along with the rest of her body.

Her face, which had spent the first half of her run turned waddle around the bases being barely touched, had spent the second half making up for lost time. She now had multiple chins and jowls that drooped and jiggled. She looked like that kind of woman who spent her life doing little more than stuffing her fat face and had earned every flabby pound.

By the time Katie finally made it to home plate, Taylor was still there. She was doubled over trying desperately to catch her breath. Her flabby belly oozed out under her uniform shirt and spilled across her lap. Her big blubbery butt stuck out behind her. And that blubbery butt was exactly what Katie’s blubbery belly collided into.

Katie’s excessive bulk meant that her forward momentum could not be easily stopped, and the two fatties collided with each other. Their obese bodies shook furiously and both formerly fit athletes turned fatties soon tumbled to the ground and shook some more. The sight of their flabby bodies slamming into and bouncing off of each other garnered another round of laughter from the assembled crowd. The two fat women who once loved to make fun of fatties were now putting on quite the humiliating show, and it was just a glimpse of the lives that they were going to be living from that moment on.

The rest of the game went by quickly for Asami. Katie and Taylor had one last half of an inning looking absolutely ridiculous standing in the field. A routine ground ball came toward Katie at second base, and Katie’s globular gut sagged down and got in her way as she tried to field it. The ball bounced up and off her blubbery belly. She reached down to get it, and the seams in her pants were broken by her blubbery butt. She was barely able to pick the ball up with her chubby hand and gave a weak throw that the runner was able to beat out. Stuck out in the outfield, Taylor was useless in her attempt to chase a fly ball and merely tripped over her own fat feet and hit the grass. As she got up, several buttons on her uniform shirt burst, revealing more of her blubbery belly. Luckily, after that, the home team pitcher struck out three batters and got out of the inning without letting in a run. After that, Katie and Taylor spent the rest of the game taking up a lot of room on the bench.

Asami felt very satisfied by all the transformations she had been a part of and the karma she had dealt out. She was even happier after she got another hotdog.

But what made her happiest of all was the way Katie and Emily couldn’t stop making hungry eyes at each other in the dugout. It certainly hadn’t been something she had intended, but she eagerly imagined their fat future together.

UPDATE and TEASER: Model Made to Waddle

Hello Even More BS Fans,

I just wanted to update you here real quick. Because I am traveling this week, I do not have access to Discord. Therefore, if you’d like to pitch ideas for what you want to see in “Model Made to Waddle” chapter 3 and beyond, please feel free to pitch them in the comments here so I can read them.

Because, while I’m away from my laptop and Discord, I am still writing. That brings us to the teaser portion of this post. Since it would normally be on Discord, I’m dropping it here instead.

Enjoy the first 1,500 and change words of chapter 3 of “Model Made to Waddle”.

——————

Ariel stood on her hotel balcony and watched the fatties waddle on by.

Her latest hotel room overlooked the water and Ariel was sunbathing on it when she decided to get up and observe the beach that was just across the street. Along the boardwalk, she was disgusted to see the number of people plodding along ruining her view and the pleasant summer day with their out of shape bodies. The sun just seemed to make all people come out to enjoyed it, and as Ariel literally looked down upon them, she scoffed.

“That beach should be a privilege,” she muttered to herself as she shook her head.

There was just so much flesh wobbling down there, so much bare flabby skin that Ariel found to be incredibly unsightly. How could these people be so bold? How could these fatties come out here and embrace their bodies like this? They should be ashamed.

Ariel looked at her reflection in the glass doors that led to her lavish hotel suite. She admired her toned body, twisting and turning to look at her abs and admire her beautiful heart shaped butt. Her entire body was encased in a perfect tan.

“That beach belongs to people like me.”

She lovingly ran her fingers over her trim tummy, ever confident in her perfect appearance.

And then, her stomach rumbled.

Suddenly, she was hungry.

——

Elsewhere, Eleanor was finishing up her meal, a plate of buttermilk pancakes with a hash brown and a side of bacon. She was at a much less expensive restaurant than last week since she had to pick up this particular meal on her own dime.

It was a quiet cafe with many frills, but she had managed to score a table outside so that she could enjoy the beautiful sunny weather. Eleanor’s obese body didn’t do very well in the heat, and she was sweating profusely already, but the feeling of the sun itself, that made putting up with some inconveniences worth it. So she was dressed in ta flowing frock that was as loose as her large body would allow, and she had ordered one of her favorite meals. It would have been an entirely pleasant experience if it wasn’t for the dour attitude of her dining companion.

“It’s not fair,” griped Penelope as she simultaneously grabbed at the roll of stubborn fat that made up her paunchy belly and another piece of bacon.

“She can eat like a total pig, I mean just stuff herself, and I so much as look at a piece of cake and I gain five pounds.”

“Okay. We can do without the cliches.”

“It doesn’t have to be cake. It could be like ice cream or cookies or OR potato chips or cake- wait I said cake- but like cheesecake. That’s different.

“Cheesecake is cake.”

“But it’s like… you know different.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. But like not to my waistline. Sweets all stick to me the same, right on my tubby tummy.”

Incense, Penelope got up from the table, leaned forward slightly to allow her stomach fat to spill forward some more, pressed against her own flowing dress. Then she took her hand and placed it on the underside of her stomach so that the fabric of the dress was pulled taut around her pot belly and fully outlined the girth of her small but noticeable gut. Then she began to bounce her fat up and down.

“Look at this. This gut! Look! I used to be pretty.”

For a moment, Eleanor was lost in the sight of the formerly rail thin blonde bouncing her belly up and down. Then she realized what he friend was going to and came to her senses. She reached and out and gently touched Penelope’s hand, realizing that it seemed ever so slightly softer than she had remembered, and guided her back down to her seat.

“You are pretty.”

Penelope took the compliment with a small smile and then pouted again.

“Okay. But like… I used to be hot. I used to be fit. Now, let’s face it Ariel was right. I’m getting kinda tubby. No not getting, I am tubby.”

Tubby may not have been the right word. Penelope was certainly softer. She was definitely doughier than a typical model. But even if she was a fair bit above her fighting weight, Eleanor was hard pressed to honestly call her tubby, at least not yet.

“You’re not tubby.”

“I’m at least a little tubby.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes.

“Oh my god. Shut up and eat.”

Penelope demurred to her friend and manager and took another bite of her bacon before nibbling on some hash brown. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but the food did help calm her anxiety which was also of course part of what got her in this pudgy predicament in the first place.

“This is so good.”

Then she threw the hash brown back down onto her plate.

“See. This is the problem. This is why I’m getting fat.”

“You’re not fat.”

“But I’m chunky.”

Penelope tore off another piece of bacon and spoke while chewing on it.

“And chunky girls are not cute.”

“I’m still getting you plenty of work.”

“Yeah. But like not the same kind. I don’t want to just be modeling for like houseware shit and hygeine products. I should be booking sexy swimsuit stuff like Ariel’s doing today.”

Eleanor didn’t want to point out the obvious, that Penelope wasn’t booking those kinds of gigs because of the bulge in her midsection. She was right. Softer girls were harder to book into the same kinds of gigs that Ariel was getting. And well Eleanor could have pulled some strings and gotten Penelope a shoot, it would have just been embarrassing for a model like Penelope struggling with so recent figure flaw issues. She was protecting her friend. Of course, she was trying to protect her in these moment but not confirming any of Penelope’s negative thoughts.

It was a difficult line to balance on, and given Eleanor’s awkward silence, she was doing a poor job of it.

“Look. I know what you’re going through,” said Eleanor.

This made it Penelope’s turn to try and fail to be nice, as she could not stop her face from reacting to Eleanor’s words as she remembered Eleanor’s past, saw Eleanor’s present, and then imagined her own future, obese like Eleanor. She found herself stuck with two choices: either letting her mouth hang agape with horror or sucking in like she had just bit into a particularly sour lemon.

She ended up settling for something awkwardly in between.

Eleanor immediately noticed and attempted to backtrack.

“Look. I get it. I’m… well yeah. I’ve gotten pretty big over the years. But you’re not me. First off when I was starting out I was even skinnier than you were.”

Penelope cut Eleanor off with a high pitch whine at the thought that she might end up getting even fatter than Eleanor. As she squealed her hands pinched her stomach roll nervously.

This really put Eleanor in a difficult position and she began to subconsciously rub her own blubbery belly. Her act of accidentally mirroring Penelope was a great way to get Penelope to stop playing with her own stomach. Of course, now that Penelope was near anxious tears, Eleanor really had to come up with something quick to say.

“I’m just- I’m trying to tell you that you’re not me. You’re not going to end up like me. You’re… you’re you. And you’re very pretty and talented and can do whatever you want, including losing this weight becuase you’re so strong. And if you didn’t lose weight you would still be pretty and successful and you’d be pretty and successful even if you put on more weight- Not that you will because again you’re certainly not going to be like me- Not- not that that would be a bad thing either. And we should both be confident in our bodies. You know?”

Penelope nodded in agreement but also moved her hand to her face to hide any hints of a double chin that her nodding might flash.

“Yeah, Eleanor. I… thanks. It’s just that… you’re fat.”

“I know.”

“And not just a little fat. You’re very fat.”

“I-“

“Like SUPER fa-“

“I KNOW!”

Penelope, having upset her friend, let her head hang in shame and let her double chin show.

“I’m sorry.”

“I kn… It’s okay. I’m fat and that’s scary to you. I get plenty of grief for it. I understand. I don’t want to be this fat either.”

“This is all Ariel’s fault!” blurted out Penelope in a desperate attempt to get things back on track.

“What?” asked Eleanor in confusion.

“It’s Ariel’s fault. She’s so perfect and vain and… and mean. She made me all self-conscious. She treats you like shit. She’s a bad friend and a bad person. And this is all her fault.”

“Okay but-“

“And we should do something about it!” shouted Penelope.

She was full of a manic excitement now, getting her feelings out about Ariel had unlocked something within her, a strange kind of confidence, and now that she was really feeling herself, and not in the literal sense when she was feeling her fat earlier.

“We absolutely need to do something about it! She needs to be stopped.”

“But how?”

Penelope’s eyes grew wide and wild as her mouth twisted into a smile and looked near foaming.

“We should make her fat!”

“The Fat Making Notebook Goes Out to the Ball Game” Part 3

Now that part 2 is approved for posting again and can be read right HERE, I’m finally able to post part 3 which has been up for a long time now on the Discord for Even More BS members. Part 4 which features Katie’s grand finale transformation is already on the Discord for Even More BS members.

Here’s part 3.

Enjoy!

——————

Asami licked her lips as she watched gorgeous, athletic Taylor taking her practice swings in the on-deck circle. The blonde vixen just looked so damn sexy every time she moved. Her beautiful breasts had just the right amount of bounce to them, and her body’s tone was clear even under her uniform. Asami had thought about transforming Taylor right away, but she had decided to wait until the bottom of the inning to make Taylor’s bottom bigger because she figured this would give her the best view of the athletic beauty bloating up into a full blown fatty. She could have done it while Taylor was standing out there in the field, but there was just something about mighty Taylor being up at bat that filled Asami with inspiration for how to fill Taylor the blonde softball babe with soft buttery fat.

She could see the confidence in Taylor’s eyes, even from all the way in her seat. There was just something about that sexy blonde bitch that got on Asami’s nerves, especially when she kept watching Taylor turn her head toward the other team’s starting pitcher.

The pitcher looked like an absolute blob on the mound. Every time she went into her rotation, her entire body quivered. All of the fat that Asami had put on her previously built but entirely athletic frame made her look unsteady as the fat kept radically shifting around, flopping up and down, surging forward. Her fat moved in waves, and when she was done moving it kept rippling, jiggling. Her movements were hypnotic as her fat swayed with every pitch, with every step. Her stomach especially stood out as it surged and swayed about. Her big fat gut should have gotten in the way, but in the end she seemed to use it as an intimidation factor. She looked like she was built to eat an entire tray packed high with hot dogs between innings.

But she threw like Babe Ruth in his prime.

It was like that belly put all of her extra weight behind her pitches, and she had a lot of fat to throw around. Asami had thought making the pitcher fat as hell would have been a hindrance, but if anything it seemed to give her even more of an edge. Perhaps the batters were too distracted by her undulating fat. Maybe they had underestimated her because of her sheer size and extremely blubbery appearance. Whatever it was, two had gone up and two had gone down in order by the time Taylor strutted up to the plate like a combination of a confident softball player and experienced runway model. She didn’t have fear in her eyes. She didn’t even just have confidence.

She had disdain.

The fat on the pitcher’s body filled Taylor with disgust. She wasn’t going to strike out to anyone, let alone a complete lard ass. To Taylor, this wasn’t just another high pressure at bat down two outs. This wasn’t just about setting the pace for the game. This was about defending her own personal philosophy, that slim and fit was better than fat, that this gluttonous slob, this blob of blubber jiggling - big and round on the pitcher’s mound- had no chance against her. Taylor was better than her. Taylor was better than any fatty.

So she strutted up to first base and dug her heels in.

And Asami opened up her notebook.

“Taylor is going to gain weight until she reaches base and gain no less than one hundred pounds. Her clothes will stretch to barely contain her blubber, and everyone will treat this as completely normal like she had just been naturally packing on the pounds since the end of last season and is now just really fat and out of shape.”

Once the words were written down, the spell began to work its magic.

With the clock ticking, Taylor put her bat up and stared down the fat pitcher without even noticing the tightening of her own belt as her belly began to soften.

As Taylor grit her teeth, her gut grew just a little bigger, softer. The abdominal muscles that she had put so much pride in relaxed into flab as she developed a portly little pooch, a nice spongy bit of fat that pushed out her shirt and strained against her belt. When she dug her heel in there was just a bit of jiggle. Though impercitable to those around her, Taylor herself might have noticed if she wasn’t so concentrated on the plump, plus-sized pitcher.

That concentration didn’t help her much.

The first pitch was a beautiful heater that painted a picture perfectly right in the upper inside corner of the strike zone. Taylor saw it coming, knew she had to swing at it, but the bullet just roared past her.

As she swung, her new belly fat jostled, but that wasn’t the only place the pretty blonde jiggled. Her toned thighs shook with her swing. The fat they had gained quivered even as it stretched out the fabric of her uniform pants. Even her ass had grown a little bit of extra softness that now bounced as she stomped her foot into the dirt and got herself ready for the second pitch.

Taylor looked up at the fat pitcher, and watched the fatty’s doughy double chin expand as she grinned back at her. Taylor’s unface also slightly softened, and her high cheek bones started to disappear, but she hadn’t noticed that part.

The next pitch was another heater high and inside, but it wasn’t going to catch the corner perfectly, and Taylor wasn’t going to be fooled. She tilted her head back, and the umpire called a ball to even the count and one and one. As she nodded her head in approval, Taylor’s softer face began to form her own double chin.

She readied herself again and gripped the bat tightly with fingers that were slowly starting to thicken, but their fattening pace was far slower than that growth of her gut. By the time the third pitch came, a slider with had a surprising amount of speed on it that got her chasing outside and missing, Taylor’s gut had gained a considerable amount of gut, and it visibly shook underneath the uniform shirt that was now just starting to strain at the buttons thanks to the combination of her growing gut and her lumpy new love handles.

Her thighs were growing thicker as well which made the legs of her pants start to look like strained sausage casings. That swing had also revealed just how much flabbier her arms had grown. She now had bingo wings that kept jiggling even as she brought her bat back up to her shoulder and readied herself for the next pitch. Her ass too no longer stood up with its usual perkiness. It had grown fatter and far saggier. Her chunky cheeks threatened to sag onto her thunder thighs as she once again took up her batting stance.

That stance was getting wider just like the rest of her.

Taylor was starting to feel the sweat breaking on her brow. She thought this was purely because of the stress from being behind in the count one and two, but the truth was that she was starting to sweat mostly from all the new blubber that was finding its way onto her body, softening her athletic frame, fattening her up and making her plumper, wider, rounder.

Ahead in the count, and getting a little cocky, the fat pitcher decided to change Taylor’s eye level and mix up the speed with a change up high and outside, but it drifted a bit too far and Taylor didn’t bite.

Of course, her fattening body made her look like she had plenty of appetite.

Her boobs were growing very much, but they did get softer and began to sag considerably. In contrast, her belly grew very quickly and while it also sagged in front of her, the upper part of her blubbery belly rose, and her softer, sagging breasts rested on it like a shelf. Those already flabby arms of hers grew fatter as well, shaking even more as she fouled off the next pitch. As her body filled with fat all around her, and her uniform stretched to mostly accommodate it, it gave the illusion that Taylor’s puppy fat filled breasts, though actually bigger, were smaller than they used to be.

Taylor fouled off another pitch. And another. With only one strike left to go, she was determined not to let anything get by her and had to keep swinging at anything close. The more she fouled off though, the long her at bat lasted, and the longer her at bat lasted the more weight she gained.

She was getting really fat. There was a lot more junk in her trunk, two big bulbous butt cheeks that quaked and slapped together as she stepped out to take a few more practice swings before stepping back into the box. The timeout kept the fat pitcher frustrated and didn’t let her get into a rhythm, but it also meant that the at bat was extended further which extended her waistline as well. Her thighs slapped together as she stepped back into the batter’s box. They were full of thunder, and Taylor was still completely unaware of how much her thick thunder thighs were now forcing her to widen her stance further and further. She could only focus on the fat pitcher, and she squinted at her as the sweat continued to break on her thicker brow. That sweat ran down her chubby cheeks until it ran into the crease of her double chin which was now permanent.

As Taylor and the fat pitcher stared each other down, it was clear to Asami that they were now the same weight. And with every extra second that ticked by, Taylor added on a few more pounds and was now becoming the fatter of the two. How much fatter she was going to get was the only question left to be answered. And with the way Taylor was attacking this at bat (despite her growing size), it could go for quite a while yet.

Foul ball. Foul ball.

Asami had to give it to her, Taylor had skill. She had grit. She also had girth.

And that girth was growing.

The next pitch was a change up inside, and Taylor let it go with a check swing. Earlier in the at bat, the bitch would have been a sure fire strike and the at bat would have been over. But Taylor’s burgeoning figure had grown so fat and wide that she was starting to really crowd the batter’s box. The pitch practically grazed her gut with now almost hung over the plate.

Ball three.

Much arguing ensued after that. The fat pitcher was furious. Her blubbery body bounced with excitement and she barked and bellowed about Taylor crowding the plate. Taylor, not being one to back down, barked back which caused her own big belly to bounce. The umpire eventually warned both sides, the fight died down, and the bat got to continue.

But the whole thing had taken up more time which meant Taylor gained more poundage.

And then Taylor took another timeout.

One chubby hand pressed against her fat knee, and the heel of her palm dug into the doughy fat of her tremendously thick thunder thigh. She didn’t notice the way the fat was molding itself around her hand or the way her belly fat pressed on the buttons on her shirt enough to create great big gaps that allowed her blubber to peek through. She didn’t feel the way that even her feet which had grown fat- complete with sausage toes- now made her cleats feel very tight. Taylor could only focus on her breathing because it was getting harder and harder to catch her breath.

Her sagging breasts heaved and swung about as she huffed and puffed. All the weight that had piled onto her once slim, and toned body was starting to really take its toll. The at bat had gone on a long time and been taxing enough, but the added blubber was starting to get to the point that even just standing for a long time was taxing. She could feel the pain starting to shoot through her fat lower back. But Taylor knew she had to push through it. She had already come this far.

Another practice swing showed just how much her fat arms had grown. The fat billowed out from under her sleeves, straining the cuffs, and her bingo wings shook furiously and for a long time after she stopped her swinging motion. Her whole body was covered in loose quivering fat and kept growing fatter as she stepped back into the batter’s box, which she was now easily spilling over no matter how far off the plate she stood.

Foul ball. Foul ball. Foul ball.

It was a battle of wills, two fatties struggling against each other and the weight of their own bodies.

Foul ball. Foul ball.

Of course, only one of them was still actively getting fatter.

Blubber kept coming as the at bat continued. Taylor’s breasts grew bigger but they were still dwarfed by the rest of her fattening form. Her belly grew the biggest. It stuck out like a shelf and made her belt disappear as it rolled over and hung down toward her massive tree-trunk like thunder thighs. By this point, Taylor was far fatter than anyone she had ever made fun of and still going.

Then came the heater.

Inside. Tight to the batter’s box. In the beginning it would have been a perfectly painted strike. Just a few pitches ago it would have been ball four. But now…

The ball struck Taylor’s blubbery belly like it was hitting the broadside of a barn. Her gut hung out so far over home plate that there was no way around it. She got plunked in the pudge, and her entire body quiver. The fat undulated outward from the point of impact and continued to jiggle as she doubled over in pain momentarily. Then, once Taylor realized what this meant- that she would get to take first base and had effectively won her duel with the fat pitcher- her blubbery body bounced a lot more as she jumped in victory.

Her jumping was not very high since the woman who once could have been a rather springy cheerleader was now incredibly obese. Her heavy weight truly kept her from making it very far, and her fat feet barely got off the ground. Still, she jumped enough for her belly breasts and bloated ass cheeks to all bounce in rhythm. That rhythm was lost as soon as she hit the ground and her body fat quivered in all directions. She was a bloated sweaty mess celebrating the fact that her body was so fat that she had gotten her pudge plunked by the pitch, but getting on base was getting on base, and it was a big deal especially with their clean up hitter, Katie, set to come up next.

Of course, Taylor still had to get to first base.

Asami smiled to herself as she looked down and peaked back at what she had written in her notebook.

Taylor is going to gain weight until she reaches base and gain no less than one hundred pounds. Her clothes will stretch to barely contain her blubber, and everyone will treat this as completely normal like she had just been naturally packing on the pounds since the end of last season and is now just really fat and out of shape.

Well, Taylor had already gained well past one hundred pounds of pure blubber, and her clothes were indeed struggling to contain all that fat. She looked absolutely ridiculous with the way her uniform stretched and fat found ways to poke out wherever it possibly could. Each small bit of movement seemed to cause to flesh to peak out from somewhere. And Taylor still needed to make it all the way to first base for the weight gain to stop.

First base might as well have been a mile away given how fat she was and how slowly she moved.

Being hit by a pitch doesn’t go down in the records as a walk even though on normal occasions that pitch would have been ball four. It was still very fitting though because what Taylor did after getting hit by that pitch wouldn’t truly be able to be called walking. She waddled down the first base line. Her massive thighs rubbed together and pushed her legs outward into an awkward shuffle. Her fat feet heavily plodded along as she continued her slow ponderous waddle to the bag, gaining more fat with every step until she finally reached it and the changes stopped.

By the time Taylor took her place at first base she looked like someone who had absolutely no business being on a ball field. She looked like someone who could barely get off a couch. The woman who once could have been a model was now the perfect model of extreme obesity.She was a tremendous blob of blubber from her fat head to her plump sausage toes.

Those sausage toes were part of two very fat feet which now filled her cleats to their absolute fullest. Above her feet were a pair of incredibly swollen cankles. Her previously slim calves and ankles had gotten far too fat and fused together into the cleverly named cankles that were now swollen not just from the fat that filled them, but from the exertion of having to move Taylor’s big fat body. And above those blown up cankles were some truly tremendous thunder thighs. The slabs of fat were covered in cellulite and were so thick that they stretched the fabric of her uniform pants so thin that the cottage cheese pattern was clear even from a distance.

Her ass cheeks had bloated into two massive orbs of fat that struggled to be contained by her pants and had a tendency to pop out the top as she moved around. This meant she was constantly having to tug up the back of her pants, something that was not easy to do given the size of her arms and girth of her fat back. Taylor once had such a tight toned ass that she loved to show off. It earned her a lot of admiration, and now she had a doughy dumper that earned a lot of humiliation. Her bloated butt cheeks were also covered in cellulite just like the thunder thighs that they sagged down onto.

Taylor’s belly was by far the biggest part of her. Her blubber gut hung over the waistband of her pants, spilled out from under her uniform shirt and rolled down toward her fat knees. Her globular gut pressed the shirt so much that the gaps between incredibly strained buttons (which were only holding on thanks to the parameters of what Asami had written in the notebook) were so large that her flabby flesh was clearly visible as it oozed through the holes. Her big belly was also paired with massive meaty love handles that gave her a mighty muffin top, and quite the sweaty one at that given the exertion it had taken to lug her fat ass all the way to first base. Her breasts had grown bigger, but they still looked small when compared to the rest of her, especially her girthy gut. It was divided into multiple sizable rolls of buttery fat, and her turgid tummy really completed the lazy girl look that her fat body was going for.

She had flabby arms and a big fat face too. Taylor’s once slender features were completely obscured by fat and she now sported chubby cheeks with jiggly jowls and a multitude of chins. Her piggish face was flush as she huffed and puffed and snorted while trying to catch her breath. It wasn’t easy being a big girl and having to struggle with moving while also putting up with plenty of jeers from the stands from people who couldn’t help but make fun of her.

Fatty felt like a slob too. Her energy was zapped but her hunger was cranked. As she stood on first base, she could catch the faint smell of hotdogs in the stand, and her mouth was watering. Her greedy gut grumbled with hunger, and Taylor wanted to beg to be taken off the field so she could stuff her fat face with food. But she had at least some shred of dignity left and kept herself in the game, at least physically. Keeping her head in the game was a different story as it kept wanting to drift toward her next meal. She wanted to stuff herself with greasy food so badly, no matter how fattening it was. And Taylor knew that she was already fat enough.

There was no denying it. Pig wasn’t a big enough word to describe the formerly trim Taylor.

Although she still couldn’t make the sound for it, she was a great wide whale of a woman.

People in the stands were not afraid to let her know how fat she was too. Although a chorus of whale sounds was a bit tough to achieve, the visiting section (and even plenty of supporters from the home team) had been eager to oink and moo in her direction. And they were working hard to come up with demeaning chants that they could shout her way while she idled on first. Because, sure, the pitcher had a big butt, but it wasn’t nearly as fat as Taylor’s massive mounds. Those blubbery butt cheeks were working hard to weigh her down like twin anchors and keep her stuck at first base.

And as Taylor stared down the line to second base, it was like a cartoon with the base seeming to get farther and farther away. The winded fat woman sighed heavily, jowls (and the rest of her body) jiggling at the notion of having to run with any kind of speed. Her thighs were already chafing, and her feet were already so sore. Taylor was clearly no longer the athlete she once was and was stuck dreading having to do anything other than sit on her big fat ass. Even standing on the base was beginning to feel like a terrible chore. Her massively obese body was not built for this kind of thing. And while she rubbed her flabby gut and stood on first base, she knew she didn’t want to run. She just wanted to be at home eating. Softball was decidedly no longer for her.

Taylor squeezed the lower most roll of her belly, a brand new nervous habit, as she pondered what she was going to have to do next. She prayed for a pinch runner, but nobody was coming. Instead she was going to be left to plod her way to second (there was no way she had any hope of going past there if she had to do anything other than a leisurely stroll). Maybe she would get lucky and the last out would be made before she had to do anything.

But Katie was up next to bat, and Taylor knew the likelihood of having to run in her future was very very high. Katie was more than just gorgeous and cold. She was the best on the team by far, and the fat pitcher, who was now much thinner than Taylor, was also almost as tired as her after that excruciatingly long at bat. Katie was very likely to make contact, and if Taylor didn’t manage to move her fat ass, she was going to hear it from Katie later. That was Katie’s leadership style after all, to be a real bitch.

Meanwhile, up in the stands, Asami sat with her notebook open, ready to seal Katie’s fattening fate.

Extra Slice #8: “Early Morning Musings”

I have an early flight, and a few people either joined as Even More BS patrons or upgraded to that tier, so I wanted to strike while that iron is hot.

This is the result. It’s fairly short and sweet and I wrote it at like 4am, so take that for what you will and as always…

Enjoy!

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It’s four a.m. and I’m looking at you, my big bountiful beauty. I watch the way your big blubbery stomach rises with each breath that you take.

It’s like watching a mountain of fat rise and fall. Each breathe moves our bright blue sheets like they’re waves cresting in the ocean. Your gut is such a marvelously large mound of fat and watching it move up and down is absolutely hypnotic.

I want to put my hand on your soft squishy stomach. I want to let it sink into the fat. I want to feel that flab as it oozes between my fingers and overwhelms the palm of my hand.

But I want to wake you.

So I watch.

I watch the way the sheets stretch out over your thunder thighs. They barely sink between your legs because your thighs are so fat that there’s rarely any room between them. I long to be between your thighs, feeling their warmth as your fat envelopes my head. I want to risk drowning in that sea of fat, to feel it enclose me and leave me enraptured. If that’s the way I go, it’s a hell of a way to go.

Your thighs are so thick. They are like flesh filled tree trunks, and I love the way they slap and rub together when you waddle. Hell, I love the way you waddle, the way you’re forced to sway from one fat foot to the other. Your body forces you to limit what you can do and yet you always make the most of it.

Part of that is because of your more than generous backside. You’ve got these two beautiful bloated butt cheeks, massive mounds of fat that are so big and round and juicy. I love to walk behind you as you waddle even though having to slow my own speed down to let you be in front can be frustrating. It’s worth it to get to watch the hypnotic bouncing of those glorious orbs of glute fat. They’re buttery and covered in cellulite, and your fat is so incredibly squeezable. I love to rub my hands along your big butt, to squeeze it, to lift it. You’re just so fun to play with.

I even love your arms. I love to pinch the adorable fat that makes up your bingo wings. Your arms end in these perfect chubby hands with their perfect chubby fingers. When you eat, I love to lick those fingers. Be it sauce or grease or whipped cream, it all tastes better coming off of you.

And your face, your perfect round and beautiful face. It’s like a full moon, so nice and fat. I love kissing your chubby cheeks, so often covered in remnants of your last meal. I love your adorable doughy double chin. Your face is testament to your gluttony. There’s no hiding it in trick above the shoulder camera angles. Everyone can see how far you are at all times, and I think that’s wonderful.

I could watch you forever, but I have to get your breakfast going. It takes a lot to keep you well fed. There’s bacon to be fried, and eggs to scramble. I have to make the pancakes and the toast which I’ll slather with butter. There’ll be hashbrowns and a side of fruit- I think cantaloupe today. That way you can pretend that you’re being healthy. It’ll be a well balanced breakfast for my well balanced piggy.

Together we’ll sit down- you on your two chairs, and I’ll get to watch my favorite show, your eating. You’ll dig in with such gusto. Crumbs will fly and you won’t care. You’ll barely care about the flavors of the food you’re eating. You’ll just eat like the perfect pig that you’ve become. You’re a machine now, a well oiled and very fat machine. It’s the grease from all the food that’s done the oiling.

I could watch you eat all day and massage your belly to make sure you have as much room as possible so you can fill yourself to your true potential. And you’ve got so much potential in that pot belly of yours. I’ll still do that second part. Lord knows I can’t keep my hands off of you. (And I know you don’t want me to keep them off of you.) But I can’t just sit there and watch you unfortunately.

After all, I have to get lunch planned.

And you?

You just have to sit there looking beautiful and getting fatter just like we’ve planned it.

Extra Slice #7: “Model Made to Waddle Musings”

Here’s a spicy little preview of what vain Ariel’s future may be exclusively for my Even More BS members.

Enjoy!

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You want Ariel to be nice and fat, don’t you? I know I do.

She’s such the perfect vain stuck up bitch isn’t she? She makes for the perfect person for a karmic comeuppance with the way she treats her friends and those who work for her. And you know it’s because of her looks. Her beauty gives her confidence, and her confidence is why she feels like she can just treat others like dirt. People have been looking up to her, admiring her her entire life because of her incredible body.

And she does have an incredibly hot body, at least a stereotypically hot one with her tight curves. She’s got a generous but toned ass, long lean legs, and a trim tummy. She’s earned her spot as a model even if she hasn’t earned her hot body. She doesn’t work for it. It’s all genetics. It’s all so unfair.

That’s why it’ll be so hot when she loses it all, when her body that she prizes so highly bloats up until it’s nearly unrecognizable. You know what’s bound to happen to her. She’s going to get super fucking fat. She won’t just be a little tubby. We’re talking obesity. We’re talking struggling to move.

It’s going to be a slow burn, but so worth it. And you’re going to get to experience every bit of it, every ounce.

Just think about those first few pounds. Given Ariel’s vanity, she’s probably going to ignore those at first. But we won’t. We’ll know they’re there. And she won’t be able to ignore those pounds forever. Her clothes are going to start getting tighter. She might even enjoy that at first. She might even be able to convince herself that it’s a positive. She’s just a little curvier. But soon those clothes will be too tight, uncomfortably tight.

They’ll be tight because of the fat that she’s packing on, the pudge that’s gathering around her middle, the new thickness that’s settling on her hips, thighs and butt. First, she’ll claim that she’s just retaining water. But you’ve seen the way she eats. You know the truth. She’s retaining fat.

Her metabolism is going to break. It’s just a matter of time if she keeps eating like a greedy little piggy. And as the pounds keep piling on, do you know what she’ll have to resort to? It’s the gift and curse of every hot girl who’s getting chubby.

A girdle.

Can you picture Ariel in a girdle? There’ll be the shame of having to buy it for the first time. Then she’ll suffer the constant humiliation of feeling how tight it is as it desperately sucks her fat in. And she’ll have the anxiety of constantly worrying about being found out. And you know that she’s going to get found out. People will learn all about vain Ariel and her precious girdle.

And then they’ll laugh at her.

You can picture that can’t you? The queen bee’s former subjects will turn on her. Laugh at her figure. Call her names. Piggy. Oinker. Pork Chop. Won’t she feel like the fat loser then?

That’s not even the best part.

Her girdle, that shameful girdle, the one thing keeping her figure in any kind of check and keeping the true nature of her fat body from the world, it won’t last forever. She’s going to keep gaining weight. She’s going to keep getting fatter and fatter.

She’s going to get too fat for her girdle.

And when that girdle pops.

And that fat spills out.

Oozes forth.

SUEY! Won’t that be sweet? Oh the schadenfreude we’ll have then when Ariel is too far for her girdle, when her fat refuses to be contained any longer. She won’t just pop the girdle. She’ll rip out of any clothes that she’s wearing. The fat will just burst forth. Her embarrassing pot belly will surge forward, spill out of her clothes and just jiggle their uselessly. Her love handles will spring out and give her a delicious muffintop.

Everyone will point and laugh. And it will crush her.

After that it’s a real spiral. Ariel is going to go from a smoking hot model to a regulation fatty.

Her greedy gut is going to get so big. It’s going to turn into a big blubber belly, a sack of fat that sags toward her fat knees. It’s going to jiggle like jello, but she sure as shit isn’t going to be jolly about it. Ariel is going to have a gut that is the ultimately sign of her gluttony. It’ll be impossible to suck in or hide. It’ll be so big that it bursts buttons and spills out of every shirt she tries to wear.

Ariel is going to have an ass to match too, a big blubber butt just like her blubber gut. She’s going to get some real chunky cheeks covered in cellulite. That cellulite is going to spread down her legs too. She’s going to have some thick thunder thighs that rub together to make the former model waddle. She’ll have cankles and fat feet with sausage toes.

Those sausage toes will nicely complement her sausage fingers which will be a part of her chubby hands. Ariel’s chubby hands will be at the end of two fat arms with great big jiggly bingo wings where her slim biceps once were.

And her face- oh her face- is going to get so piggish. Ariel’s pretty face will lose all its narrow features. They’ll be buried under fat as she develops jiggly jowls and a doughy double chin. She’ll have such a stereotypical fat girl face completely lacking the confidence that she used to radiate.

Food will be her only friend, so she’ll eat and eat and eat and just keep getting fatter.

The names will just keep coming too:

Cow. Whale. Blubber Buns. Lard Ass. Wide Load. Fatso.

Her life will be full of the karma that she deserves for all the misery she’s caused to not just fat people but all those around her. And it’s fitting. It’s time for this model to waddle, for this vain princess to live the pig life.

And you get to watch it all happen.

"Model Made to Waddle" Chapter 2

Here is chapter two of "Model Made to Waddle". This chapter is brought to you by people who helped to pick up the tab for the person who originally commissioned this and then welched and coast me a lot of money. If you haven't read chapter one yet, it's right HERE.

This chapter introduces some new characters and is over 10,000 words. That brings this slow burn epic story to almost 20,000 words already.

Enjoy!

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Ariel rolled out of bed with ease. Her slinky body slipped out of her silk sheets and curved to the floor in a gentle arc that made her look like a dancer. Her dainty feet gently touch down on the cozy carpet, and she soon alighted from the bed and practically pranced over to her vanity mirror. 

As she shook her head, Ariel’s blonde curls fell perfectly into place as if she was a Disney princess, and she smiled at herself as she admired the perfect lips that rested on the rest of her perfect face. She allowed herself to get lost for a moment in the subtle curves of her angular cheeks, the cuteness of her button nose and the delicate nature of her chin. 

She couldn’t help but blow herself a kiss. 

Then, her daily physical affirmation continued as her slender hands moved down the sloped sides of her hourglass figure. She enjoyed the ways her hands naturally moved inward and then out again as she traced the curve of her hips. It was like running her hands over the curves of a fine automobile, something gorgeous, tuned to absolute perfection. She enjoyed the way her hands cupped the toned cheeks of her luscious, heart-shaped and slightly supple butt. It had just the right amount of tantalizing give to it without a hint of stretch or sag.

Once she was done inspecting her immaculate ass, Ariel brought hands around her thighs, feeling the muscles instinctively tense as her fingers danced along them. Then, she slid her fingers up the front of her thighs until they began to lift up the hem of her silk nightie. She gently, slowly, pulled her nightie up until it was past her belly button, then higher until it was almost to her breasts. With her entire abdomen exposed to the mirror, Ariel had another piece of her beautiful body to shamelessly admire.

Her lips parted in a soft moan that turned itself into a playful laugh as her fingers traced the faint outline of unearned muscle. What a marvelous joke on the world it was, these fantastic abs, these sexy and tight curves that had taken nothing more than lottery winning genetics to achieve. As her fingers proudly prodded at the muscles on her stomach she thought about all of those poor, lesser, women out there who struggle to lose those last ten pounds, who can’t even look at pasta without developing a pooch. She thought of all the hard work they had to go through just to look not even half as good as her. Hell, she thought of all the actors who lived in the gym to get in shape for superhero movies, getting shredded only to blow up a bit once shooting was done. They should see her and be jealous just like everyone else-

Especially Kelly.

Ariel laughed again as she thought of how humiliated she had made her fat assistant feel. She knew that fat lazy pig definitely deserved it. She had enjoyed dressing her down, showing how much she could eat in front of Kelly and making her incredibly jealous. She loved flaunting her body whether it was in front of her fat loser assistant Kelly, her easily jealous friends, total strangers, or even just herself in the mirror.

As Ariel continued to inspect her abs she thought back to all the food she had eaten yesterday and laughed again. What a pig she had been. Slim and sexy Ariel had eaten like an absolute fat girl, gone whole hog as it was, and there wasn’t a shred of evidence of it on her body, not even a bit of bloating or some water retention thanks to all the salt in her meal. It was like all of those calories she had consumed had disappeared, evaporated into the ether never to be seen again. Plenty of people would have proclaimed it to be magic, but Ariel knew it was just another case of her good genes, another sign that she was truly blessed, truly better than everyone else.

She blew her abs a kiss.

And then Ariel let her nightie fall back down and instead cupped her generous breasts in her hands. She left the feeling of their size yet gravity defying firmness in her hands. She felt so beautiful as she closed her eyes and caressed her chest. Another moan left her mouth and she found her hands trailing up her slender neck until they landed back on her delicate facial features.

She effortlessly tossed her hair over her shoulders a few times just to play around with it and then turned to skip over to her closet. As she did so, Ariel couldn’t help but turn her head back over her shoulder to catch the reflection of her shapely ass in the mirror. She loved the way it playfully stretched the back of her nightie just the right amount, and she blew her beautiful butt a kiss too.

For a moment as she sauntered over to her closet, Ariel imagined what it would be like to be like most other people. She pictured herself with a tubby, untoned tummy, the kind of pasty little paunch that stuck itself out and made fitting into decent pants a chore with the way it insisted on pushing and popping the button. Ariel touched her abs again as she imagined a muffin top poking over the edges of one of her designer skirts now too tight because of her wider hips and grown ass. 

She pictured her beautiful bubble butt bubbling up way too much, bloating with blubber and sagging down onto the backs of thicker thunder thighs. It was an absurd little daydream, picturing herself getting even a little chubby let alone completely fat. Fat was for weak people, losers, not her. Nonetheless, she continued to entertain the thoughts as she casually perused the many offerings of her richly filled closet. 

After selecting her outfit for the day, a fabulous designer silk blouse and some gorgeous slim cut pants to further flatter a figure that needed no help in this regard, Ariel set her clothes aside and headed to take her usual morning shower.

One of Ariel’s favorite things to do was to get naked. 

She loved the feel of clothes sliding off her toned body, and what she loved even more was the way she looked naked. Being in the nude and admiring herself was one of Ariel’s favorite activities. Anytime she was free of clothing meant that she could admire her beautiful body in even more detail, and bathing was an experience that she found exceptionally luxurious and fitting for her highly cultured status. 

At night she would make the time for long bubble baths, candle lit affairs with soothing music and an array of scented oils. She admired her beauty even then, lifting her long legs out of the water one at a time and watching the water drop off of them before running her hands up and down her slender ankles, and toned calves. She loved to watch the way her breasts float in the water and playfully covered up her nipples with the bubbles watching as they slowly and tantalizing melted away revealing her raised and aroused nipples once again. Then she’d touch herself there and everywhere else. She loved her baths.

But mornings were for showers.

She loved the feeling of that initial spray as it burst forth and washed across her face. Ariel felt the water run down her chin and her neck as it dribbled down to her chin. It ran down her chest and slid between her breasts, dripping through her cleavage and down to her navel and below. The water ran down between her legs, and she loved the first moments of this. Then Ariel stood there for a long moment and felt the pressure of the hot water against her skin as the steam wrapped itself around her, enveloping her. She closed her eyes and took it all in. Her breasts swayed slightly and moved up and down with each deep, slow breath that she took.

Slowly, her fingers reached out and wrapped themselves around her soap, and she rubbed that soap all over her toned body. She loved the feel of her soapy hands sliding over and lathering up her muscles. As she worked her way up and down she gave herself a generous massage, especially focusing on her legs. She slid her hands between her thighs and moaned as she felt the warm water mix with the soap as she touched her perfectly sculpted legs.

What a goddess she was.

After her legs were done being washed, she left one hand down there as she ran the other hand up her toned torso and began to work the soap into her bountiful breasts. She felt their weight and then danced her fingers around her nipples, stroking them, flicking them, pinching them. The pressure felt so good and was matched by the pressure of her other hand between her legs. 

She finished with a shudder and then let the hot water just keep rushing over her. It was a perfect moment, a regular ritual that she always cherished. And when she got out of the shower she made sure to wipe off the fogged up mirrors so she could admire her slim, sexy, dripping wet naked body one last time.

When she was done with the shower and dressed, it was time for Ariel to have breakfast. Sure, she was going to be having brunch with her friends in just a few hours, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want something to nibble on first. That was one of the many joys in Ariel’s life. She could eat a little breakfast, and by the time she got to brunch she would still be flawless and ready to eat and drink with her friends. Then she’d take a little siesta at some point and be ready to go out again for dinner and a night of partying. After that she’d wake up in the morning to the same reflection she had just spent her time admiring and enjoy having another perfect day.

The breakfast that she enjoyed on this day consisted of a piece of avocado toast and a peanut butter and banana smoothie, neither of which she had made herself. Ariel was not one for manual labor of any kind, let alone dirtying and cleaning dishes after making food. That was for poor people. When she wasn’t dining out at the finest restaurants, she was ordering in, and this was one of her favorite breakfast orders.

Ariel knew that avocados were the good kind of fat, and she enjoyed having it smeared across whole wheat toast, but her favorite parts of this meal were the feta cheese crumble, the bacon bits, and the beautifully runny fried egg that rested on top. The bacon and eggs is what took what could have been a rather light breakfast and put it over the top. She loved the feeling of the runny yolk dribbling down her chin just before she dabbed it up. It was such a small thing but felt like the height of indulgence.

As she munched on the avocado toast, Ariel’s mind wandered yet again. She pictured herself being really bad and getting herself a dripping bacon egg and cheese on a bagel, something really greasy, a calorie bomb loaded with extra bacon and cheese and served with a side of loaded tater tots, tasty morsels topped with more cheese, gravy, each dressing scallions, and- of course- more bacon. 

She pictured herself stuffing her face and bloating accordingly, with her flat belly ballooning outward, inflating with fat, stretching the buttons on her blouse until the popped open and revealed the bloated gut that promptly plopped into her lap, a lap formed by two thickening thunder thighs that now squished together. She could almost feel herself rising out of the seat of her chair as her ass got bigger with two chunky cheeks that served as fat filled cushions. 

In the daydream, none of that stopped her from eating though. She kept taking bite after bite no matter how much fatter she got, how much messier her clothes became or how much of the fabric ripped. She kept indulging until she was done with the avocado toast. 

Then she blinked again and got a hold of herself. She didn’t need any of that other stuff of course, the avocado toast was delicious enough. 

Her smoothie was equally delicious. Normally she would have gone with a fruit smoothie, like a strawberry or banana, but this morning Ariel felt like being bad so she went with something that was more of a calorie bomb. There was maybe a small voice in the back of her head somewhere that warned her, that said she should be careful and not make this kind of thing a habit, but that tiny voice was quickly drowned out by the sounds of her slurping up the last bits of her smoothie.

Ariel finished off her meal with a quiet but satisfied burp which caused her to chuckle and coquettishly touch her napkin to her luscious lips.

What a naughty little piglet she had been.

That was the thought that entered Ariel’s mind and then swiftly flew away again. She stood up and ran her hands over her slightly bloated belly. She admired her new food baby in the nearest mirror without a care. She knew it would be gone again within ninety minutes which meant she would be in perfect form again just in time to eat brunch. That way, her friends would once again be stuck looking at her and being jealous.

Making her friends jealous wasn’t difficult for Ariel. After all, she was so much better than them.

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

Eleanor used to be a model. Hell, she used to go by Ellie too until Ariel decided that she had gotten too fat for a name like Ellie and that Eleanor was a much better fit, Eleanor the Elephant, Enormous Eleanor. And it was all true.

She was extremely fat.

The woman who had once been Ellie, and who had once been a slim and sexy supermodel was now outrageous out of shape, an extremely obese woman who struggled just with getting out of bed in the morning. Her massive legs, exemplified by two tree trunk-like thunder thighs, got caught in her cheap, sweat soaked cotton sheets. It wasn’t even that hot out. Her bloated body just generated that much heat which meant her sheets were constantly sticking to her fat rolls,   and there were lots of fat rolls to stick to.

By the time her fat feet touched the cold hard floor of her rundown apartment, it was like a waterfall of fat spilled over the edge of her bed. The force of her fat feet hitting the floor caused the fat to ripple up her body, starting with her fat cankles and spreading to her thunder thighs. But the moment forward caused that jiggling to start working its way back down. It was like a tide going in and out in waves of fat that shook as Eleanor struggled to get herself out of bed. Her massive thighs finally swung all the way outward, and then one of her big bloated butt cheeks escaped over the side of the bed. Then she managed to get herself completely onto her side and her big blubbery belly started to slosh over as well. It was a big heavy weight, and while she was on her back that big gut of hers served to press her deeper into her old worn out mattress. But once it finally got moving it was like it had a will of its own, and that will was incredibly strong given its voluminous size.

Her gut swung fiercely and spilled over the edge of the bed. That amount of burberry body weight gave Eleanor the considerable amount of momentum that she needed to reach to get herself out of bed. The sack of fat that was her stomach kept sway and sagged downward hanging in such a way that it threatened to take her all the way down to the floor, but Eleanor managed to get her other lard filled leg underneath her, and with one of her fat arms she clung to the bed for dear life. Her entire body wobbled as she steadied herself, and she still had to peel out of the rest of her sheets and felt very much like a big pork roll forcibly escaping its wrapping.

It was a challenge for sure given how out of shape she was, and she almost fell over several more- needing to brace herself on the bed with her arms which caused a considerable amount of jiggling when it came to the fat of her bingo wings- but eventually she got herself completely free.

Once she had finally managed to extract her fat body from the sweaty sheets, the obese Eleanor wobbled some more as she steadied herself on her two fat feet and then stood upright. Well, she at least stood as upright as her slumped over shoulders would allow her. Her previously perfect posture had taken a real hit thanks to the sheer weight of all the pounds she had packed on over the years, constantly pulling her down. She was a large and largely defeated woman, but at least she had managed to get herself out of bed. Then came the next part she dreaded-

Getting dressed.

As she waddled toward her closet, Eleanor couldn’t help but look at herself in the mirror. She would have rather not seen her reflection, but keeping plenty of mirrors around her apartment and checking out her body was an old holdover from her days as a model. Some days she thought that perhaps if she looked in the mirrors often enough, one day she would see something different, one day she would realize this had all been a horrible nightmare and she would wake up and be slim and confident again. But as she looked her body over in the mirror she realized that all of this fat was frighteningly real.

Eleanor was dressed in nothing more than an old cotton bra that had seen better days and a pair of tired granny panties that were fraying at the edges and giving her a constant wedgie thanks to the bite of her blubbery butt cheeks. Wearing so little meant that there was a lot to see in the reflection of the mirror. What could be seen was only limited by the mirror itself and the width of her body which expanded beyond its bounds. Her gluttonous girth therefore could not be contained by her reflection, but everything else that was there could be measured by her own fat hands. 

She had a big blubbery double belly. That had been where the majority of the weight she had gained gathered since the day the first few pounds had appeared on her once slender waist. Now the abs that she had once taken so much pride in and worked so hard for were long gone, replaced by a flabby apron of fat that quivered at the slightest motion and sagged so far down toward her fat knees that it obscured most of her panties. Her gut was a sure fire sign of the gluttony that had overtaken her life just like her belly now overtook the waistband of any pants she tried to wear. Or was a sad sack of fat that hung about uselessly and served only to get in the way and make even the simplest tasks in life difficult. 

Her butt was another problem entirely. The bloated backside was made up of two blubbery cheeks that were constantly trying to devour whatever underwear she had on. Her colossal cheeks were filled with chunky fat and covered in cellulite. They were redundantly round and yet had so much give to it that she wouldn’t call them attractive. No. To her they just looked sad. It was especially sad to think about how fat they had gotten and how far she had come from the tight heart-shaped ass that she used to have. She used to have a wonderful butt that could turn heads, and now just had a colossal broken down dump truck of an ass that was perfect for knocking things off of tables when she turned around. Her butt was once a point of pride, and now it was a point of constant embarrassment. Her flabby ass sagged sadly downward onto her fat thighs. 

Those thunder thighs were, like the rest of her, massive. Once upon a time, back when she was a model, her legs were long and lean. She had worked hard to get her legs into the perfect shape, muscular and toned but not overly bulky. They gave her a confident strut on the runway and made posing for photoshoots a breeze. 

Now her legs were dominated by her thunder thighs. They were great big jiggling tubes of fat. Her flabby thighs shook with every movement. Their fat slapped and rubbed together constantly. Her strut wasn’t just gone. She didn’t even really walk any more. She waddled. Her thighs were so damn fat that her stance was too wide to do anything but waddle when she moved. And that movement was limited. Eleanor was just too fat and moving was just too tiring so she found herself doing it less and less that fatter she got. Even standing right now meant that her cankles were starting to swell just from this small bit of exertion.

Eleanor’s arms had grown heavy as well. At one point she had beautifully toned biceps. Now they were just bulging bingo wings. She had flabby jiggly arms that were now pathetically weak. It wasn’t like Eleanor used to be a powerlifter or anything, but she had strength. Now her weak flabby arms just made her feel helpless. Her bingo wings were the bulkiest parts of her bulky arms, but she also had fat wrists and chubby hands that ended in fat clumsy fingers. It seemed like she dropped an awful lot of things except for food. Her arms were always good at lifting food and getting it to her fat face. 

Her breasts had grown somewhat, but as she examined them in the mirror she couldn’t help but groan. They had grown enough to make her back hurt, and they now had plenty of sag and stretch marks. But the biggest problem she had with them was that every other part of her fat body had blown up so much that her breasts looked smaller even if they were technically larger. They were just fatter and flabbier, and if she wasn’t wearing the bra they’d be flopping down under her belly like fat stretched out pancakes. They were fat and they were sad, and they made her sad. 

Eleanor looked up from her blubbery breasts and caught the reflection of her face in the mirror. Of all the parts of her previously slim and sexy body, the biggest changes might have been in her face. Eleanor had had a hot body, but her face was her money maker. Her face was angelic once. She had high cheekbones, bright eyes and a beautiful smile. She radiated confidence. 

Now her cheekbones were gone, permanently hidden by chubby cheeks that drooped into jiggly jowls, and her narrow chin was gone as well. She now sported a great big doughy double chin, a neon sign telegraphing just how fat she had gotten. There was no good angle that she could find to disguise how fat her face had gotten. Her face was just so round and fat. It made her feel like a pig. 

But the worst part was the way her confidence had left her eyes. Eleanor looked at her face, the bags under her eyes, and she could just see the way the sadness had taken her over. She hung her head and all the dis was make her doughy double chin inflate even more. 

Eventually, she couldn’t take it any more and turned her fat face away from the mirror, hid as best she could from her reflection and waddled over to her closet. 

Eleanor used to wear nothing but designer clothes, and even then she had quite the assortment to choose from. Back when she was a slim and sexy supermodel, anything that she wore looked good on her. She loved to wear slinky dresses, ones that were cut short and made for perfect flirty cocktail dresses and ones that were long flowing gorgeous ball gowns . She wore tight jeans and even leather pants. She had beautiful silk blouses and crop tops that showed off her glorious abs. 

Now her outfits were far more limited to things that had a lot of stretch to it. Most of the time around the house she wore sweatpants, frequently the same ones. When she took trips to the store she might wear some stretchy leggings and an oversized hoodie to try to accommodate her bulk as best as possible. But for today, for brunch with Ariel and their friend Penelope, Eleanor would have to wear a dress, and so she settled for a baby blue muumuu that had plenty of give even as it clung to every single roll of fat, every fold of flabby flesh. 

It would have to do. 

Of course, as she pulled the muumuu out of the closet, she got a whiff of her armpit. That’s when she realized that after a night of being so fat that she sweated through her sheets, she couldn’t just put on the muumuu and call it a day. With a heavy sigh she regretfully resigned herself to the fact that she needed a shower. 

Eleanor used to find bathing to be a luxurious experience. She used to love spending an untold amount of time with her scented soaps and body oils, her nights lit by candles as she relaxed with soothing music. 

Now baths were pretty much out of the question. With her body as big as it was, as heavy as it was, getting up and down and in and out of the bathtub was far too much of a hassle. It was showers or bust and even showers she hated because even showers were work. 

The first thing she hated about getting into the shower was the fact that she had to get naked. Eleanor used to love being naked. There was a time when it was her preferred way of sleeping. But now… Now that she was so fat she despised seeing herself naked. At least when she had underwear on she could feel like she had some sense of dignity. But there was something about the way her flat but heavy udders sagged with her sad nipples pointing downward that made her feel humiliated even when she was the only one in the room. She never felt fatter than when she was naked. When she was free from her clothes she just felt like a prisoner in her own fat body. 

After getting naked, Eleanor had to make her way into the shower itself. This was easier said than done. The glass door to the shower she had in her small bathroom was- well- small. She would have been far more suited for a shower with a curtain she could draw back, but when she first started renting this apartment she was fat but still far thinner than she was at this moment, and the shower door hadn’t been a problem then. Now she couldn’t afford to give up the apartment so she had to put up with sucking in as best as possible and squeezing herself through the shower door all the while dressing the day when she was too fat to do that and ended up taking the door off its hinges. 

Once she popped herself into the shower and was able to relax again she was confronted with the difficult task of actually soaping up and washing down her obese body. 

This took a considerable amount of effort because Eleanor had to settle for using only one hand to actually put soap on her body while her other hand was committed to lifting up the multitude of fat rolls that comprised her obese and flabby body. Every fold of fatty flesh needed careful tending to because those were the places where sweat tended to get trapped the most. And once she got to the underside of her double belly and below, her bathing took even longer because she could no longer see what she was doing and had to rely purely on feel. 

That was the part she hated the most, the way she was forced to touch her soft body over and over again, blindly groping around like a fat fool exploring her flabby flesh desperately for far too long just to make sure that she had some semblance of cleanliness. Being fat was one thing, but she couldn’t stomach the idea (no matter how large her stomach was) of being fat AND gross. So she labored under the pressure of the steaming hot water as it beat against her bare skin. She ran her fingers through every fold of fat and across every stretch mark and dimple of cellulite. 

It was humiliating to not be able to see her hands as it disappeared between the meaty walls of her fat thunder thighs because she couldn’t see past the shelf of her sagging double belly. And she always did a poor job of cleaning her lower legs, especially her cankles and fat feet, because she was worried that bending over too much would cause her to fall over thanks to the weight of her tremendous blubbery belly and her hanging udders. 

Her breasts took both of her fat hands to clean one at a time. She shuddered as she worked them. The way she massaged her nipples with the soap was one of the few times she lingered because of anything remotely close to pleasure, and it was one of the few times she had been pleasurably touched in quite a while. She worked her soft sagging breasts with her hands and let out a soft moan of pleasure and shame before she let them hang back down like flabby pendulums resting on her blubbery belly shelf. 

She also had great difficulty cleaning her back. As she did so she remembered the humiliating day she first had to buy a special rod so that she could adequately reach back there and get everything. Still, she did it. She cleaned every fold, every crevice. She soaped up her massive ass, felt the fat ooze between her fingers as she squeezed and massaged the pillowy flesh. 

Then she had to do most of the process again to finish rinsing herself off. That’s when she focused on how the water felt on her soft, supple, naked skin. She didn’t even get to truly enjoy it though. Showering took so long and she spent so much time cleaning her flabby obese body that she often ran out of hot water by the time she was done. 

After that she exited, fat and cold and tried to wrap herself as best she could in a beach towel that she had to use instead of a standard bath towel given her girth and go through the task of trying to dry herself off, something else that took a long time because of the sheer amount of water that now covered her massive body and the way it trapped itself in her blubbery folds. 

She had to lift them all again, and as she did she was thankful that the steam from the shower had steamed up her bathroom mirror so she didn’t have to suffer the indignity of watching herself do this. Slowly, Eleanor worked the water out of every fold until she felt she was dry enough to put on her clothes and not feel worried that she would immediately look like a sweaty mess thanks to any leftover patches of water clinging to her fat body. 

After Eleanor’s arduous shower, she held the muumuu in front of her for a long time. She stared at the tent of a dress and knew that it would soon be stretched out and clinging to the folds of her fat body. Even with its forgiving stretch, she would still feel fat as hell with it on. She would much rather be lounging around in comfortable sweats, but for brunch with friends, especially Ariel, Eleanor knew she needed to wear something nicer. And this muumuu was technically one of the nicer things she owned. 

Sure enough, the muumuu fit like Eleanor knew it would and she felt like a ten pound sack of bologna squeezed into a five pound back. The fabric stretched, but it also wrapped itself around her blubbery belly and clung to her the underside of her double belly to really show off how massive it was. And it stretched across her bloated butt in a way that made it look even more unflattering. But it would have to do. 

It would have to do. 

That was Eleanor’s life now. Once she lived a life of glamour and privilege, and now she lived a life of settling. When she was slim and sexy everything was easy, and now everything was a struggle. But she had to put up with it. So she did. She soldiered on, even as her stomach rumbled with hunger. 

Slowly, Eleanor waddled over to her kitchenette and wondered about having breakfast. Her gluttonous gut was demanding it, but she chastised her greedy belly because she knew she was just going to go to brunch soon anyway. 

But the hunger was persistent, and Eleanor was powerless to resist for long. So eventually she threw open her fridge and threw some leftover hash from yesterday on a plate with a big squeeze of ketchup and threw it in the microwave. While that was heating up she threw some deli meat and cheese on a few pieces of white bread and threw that in the toaster oven for a quick breakfast sandwich. 

She was thankful nobody was there to watch how quickly she inhaled her breakfast, and she considered herself lucky that she had managed to eat her food without getting a ketchup or grease stain on her muumuu. But she still felt like a pig, and the worst part was that she knew she would still feel bloated come brunch time, and she would still stuff her face anyway. 

In her head, dreams of brunch circled about. She pictured rich ricotta pancakes, chicken and waffles, biscuits and gravy, and eggs Benedict on toast with extra hollandaise sauce. Eleanor’s mouth watered as she thought about bacon and sausage rolled up balls of goat cheese dressed in honey. 

She could taste all of those flavors dancing on her tongue long after she had finished her own breakfast. She pictured the tang of mimosas and bloody Marys. And then she imagined herself consuming dessert, a delicious chocolate mousse served with a side of vanilla ice cream smothered in whipped cream and chocolate syrup. 

Unfortunately, she could also easily imagine Ariel laughing at her, calling her names and oinking at her while she stuffed her fat face. This was the cycle of her friendship, and she often wondered why she kept subjecting herself to this level of toxicity. Then she reminded herself that Ariel paid the bills including the tab for brunch, and it was enough to refocus Eleanor’s mind on the amount of bottomless mimosa that she would be making sure she enjoyed. 

She really needed a drink. 

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

Eleanor insisted on getting to the restaurant first for a number of reasons. One, getting there first meant she could have her choice of chair and could pick the sturdiest one and sit in the best possible lighting. Two, it meant that she had more time to look at the menu to decide what she wanted to eat. Three, she could get her drinking started early. And finally, it meant that she could avoid having to make any kind of grand entrance.

She was happy to leave the grand entrance to Ariel who would definitely be attending fashionably late- another thing Eleanor was counting on because she hoped that meant she could sneak an appetizer judgment free. Most importantly, Eleanor preferred to be first because then she could stay already seated and not have to suffer the long walk in and the judgmental stares that would arise from her friends.

And staring was something Eleanor couldn’t stop herself from doing when her friend Penelope entered.

Penelope was a model and she was struggling. This was evident by the mini-dress that she had squeezed herself into. It was the kind of dress that would have fit Penelope much better about fifteen pounds ago. It was designed to be tight, but not as tight as Penelope was experiencing at this moment. It would be foolish to call Penelope fat, but with the way that her currently tubby tummy pressed against the dress- which made her look vacuum sealed in- made her look too out of shape to be a normal model.

Her model strut was thrown off by the fact that her thighs had a bit too much give to them. Penelope’s legs wobbled as she walked the long length of the bar toward the table that Eleanor was occupying. Part of Eleanor really wanted to see what kind of shape Penelope’s butt was in. She imagined that it must be at least a bit plump and probably a bit softer and saggier. It probably was very nice to squeeze. But Eleanor couldn’t see Penelope’s butt as she approached, so she had to settle for the view of Penelope’s plumper thighs.

Eleanor couldn’t help but feel a little bit of schadenfreude as she watched the previously perfect Penelope struggling with a fresh bit of pudge. The way she watched the fat on Penelope’s thighs ripple and slap together reminded her of her own past, back when Eleanor was just getting fat and not completely resigned to being fat. Of course, as Penelope’s manager, Eleanor couldn’t help but feel a bit of worry about Penelope’s future since Penelope’s future was also currently tied to her own.

Not that she would ever pressure Penelope to lose weight, Eleanor would never put her through that kind of indignity. She wouldn’t be that big of a hypocrite. But Penelope’s career stalling would mean an even bigger reliance on Ariel which was something that filled Eleanor’s stomach with dread.

Of course, that could have just been her hunger. The breakfast crab cake appetizer, which was really just a crab cake with some bacon and a hollandaise sauce poured on top, was not exactly filling- nor were the two mimosas she had already consumed.

Maybe it was the champagne giving her mind a bit of a buzz, but as Penelope got closer, Eleanor had to admit that she had at least one thing going for her. Penelope’s breasts had gotten bigger but had yet to have any sign of significant sag. Instead, her boobs were pushed up and outward, and if Eleanor hadn’t been so purposefully catty as to look at Penelope’s tummy and thighs first, she could have easily been distracted by the voluptuous nature of her breasts which jiggled with each step she took. She certainly had a lot of bounce to her.

And that bouncing intensified as Penelope reached the table and excitedly jumped up and down in front of Eleanor.

“Hey, girl! Hey!”

Penelope had seen Eleanor a million times, had known her for years. And yet, she greeted Eleanor with the same energy, as if she hadn’t seen her in years, every time. 

Slowly, Eleanor pushed herself up from the table to give Penelope the requisite hug, and she sighed heavily as she realized that the petite Penelope could not reach her arms all the way around her.

“You look great,” said Penelope without a hint of sarcasm.

“I absolutely do not, you perky bitch,” responded Eleanor. There was a bitterness to her words but a dry joking quality to her tone and Penelope giggled accordingly.

Penelope was often giggling.

The petite lady with the pudgy tummy looked down at Eleanor’s empty plate and her eyes once again sparkled with excitement.

“Oh, that’s such a good idea. Do you think I’ve still got time to sneak an appetizer before Ariel gets here? I’m starving but I’d rather her not see me eating it- you know because of this.”

Penelope pinched her tubby tummy with both hands and gave it an annoyed shake. There wasn’t much to it, but Eleanor could see the start of a problem and knew that problem all too intimately. She knew that Penelope should be careful… bad habits have such a way of spiraling… but still…

“Sure! She’s not even here yet, and you know she’s going to stop and have a cigarette or two before coming in here. The breakfast crab cake is delicious!”

Eleanor felt bad, but she could see that Penelope wanted it anyway. So what if she had provided just a little push in the wrong direction? Penelope was still thin. She could handle it… for now.

Penelope clapped her hands and ordered the crab cake on Eleanor’s recommendation along with a Bloody Mary to go with it.

Eleanor tried not to, but she had to smile to herself just a little bit as the waitress put the crab cake in front of Penelope. She even convinced Penelope that it would go well with a side of buttered toast, something to sop the extra hollandaise sauce up with, and Penelope bit like a greedy little piglet.

Outside the restaurant, Ariel had her second cigarette as she prepped for her grand entrance. She finished the cigarette, popped a few breath mints into her mouth and sprayed a little perfume to disguise her little habit. Then she admired her reflection in the front window of the restaurant one last time, doubtlessly giving the people who were sitting right on the other side a nice show, and then made her way into the restaurant.

Ariel loved arriving last, and she purposefully timed these brunches with reservations at the busiest time of day to ensure she had as many heads to turn in her direction as possible.

She put her best foot forward and strutted like the well practiced model that she was. And she felt it, the adoration, the jealousy, the control. She had this whole restaurant eating out of the palm of her hand already. And she savored it even more than the food she was about to eat. 

When she got to the table, Penelope was only halfway through her crab cake and was taking a big bite out of her toast. This proved to be a costly mistake.

“Gee Penelope, eating already? You couldn’t wait, you greedy little piglet.”

The hollandaise sauce ran down the speechless Penelope’s chin which got another chuckle out of Ariel.

“Got a little something there. You’re such a messy piggy sometimes, Penelope. It’s no wonder you’re struggling to fit into that dress.”

Penelope’s hands instinctively flew to her stomach and she felt the bit of pudge that pressed against her dress and threatened to droop down onto her lap if she wasn’t careful with the crab cakes.

That’s when Ariel leaned forward and gave a very European style kiss to both of Penelope’s sauce stained cheeks followed by a playful smack on the shoulder.

“Oh relax, Pig Pen. I’m just joking. You can take a joke can’t you? Or are you too soft for that? I mean… you are getting soft.”

And then… Penelope giggled. She smiled. And she played along like everything was okay and was already trying to tell herself that Ariel was just having a bit of fun and that she should really be watching her diet anyway. After all, the dress was tighter than it should have been. That was a shame really because Penelope was pretty set on getting the chicken and waffles with a side of bacon, but now she was a lot less sure of that in Ariel’s presence. Of course, she couldn’t possibly articulate any of that to Ariel, so instead she did the only thing that she felt like she could do which was giggle.

Ariel turned to face Eleanor.

“And you look to be the same as ever which is to say enormous.”

“It’s good to see you too, Ariel,” said Eleanor with a roll of her eyes.

“I know it is. I’m quite the sight to behold. But it is good to see you, Elefun.”

Another one of those nicknames. Eleanor just rolled her eyes again which was not the desired reaction that Ariel was looking for, so she elbowed Penelope.

“She’s so stiff. Tell her to loosen up.”

“Y-yeah, Ellie, loosen up.”

“See? She agrees. Have some fun, Elefun.”

Ariel laughed at her own joke like it was the cleverest thing ever said. And her own laughter was reinforced by Penelope’s stupid giggle.

The way Penelope squirmed in her seat as she giggled was a sight that Ariel loved to see. She decided to show off her dominance even more by picking the last piece of toast off of Penelope’s plate and taking a bite out of it right in front of her. The poor piece of toast did not last very long and left only a hint of crumbs on Ariel’s lips as she smiled.

“Well, looks like I’ve got to play catch up,” said Ariel as she took her seat.

She then proceeded to order herself her own crab cake, and a side of toast along with a side of bacon. To go with it, she also ordered two mimosas for herself. When the food came, Ariel dug into her crab cake with gusto while Eleanor and Penelope just settled for having another round of drinks while preparing to order their main brunch meal.

Ariel felt like showing off.

“Oh, this is so delicious. I understand why you ordered it, Penelope. Of course, it’ll do far less damage to my figure. And this bacon is delicious too. I’d offer you some, but it wouldn’t be a very good idea for you to have one. You’re going to want to avoid pork. After all, you are what you eat. Oink. Oink. Am I right?”

She laughed and took another bite of bacon and a big sip of mimosa. She finished her glass in two more gulps and started working on her second while ordering a third.

From there the conversation moved on to normal thighs, pleasantries and catching up, Ariel had lots of stories that she thought were entertaining about things she had been up to. They also talked about work and boring things like the weather. They bantered back and forth as they ordered food. Eleanor got sausage and gravy. Penelope got chicken and waffles. Ariel, still in the mood to show off, got eggs benedict, a hashbrown and a side of smoked salmon.

The food came, and it amazed Eleanor how quickly and effortless Ariel could work her way through her food while still talking about herself. She dominated the conversation and still ate faster than her companions. It was like Ariel was on an absolute mission. She ate the eggs, the hash brown, the salmon. She even had a few pieces of shrimp cocktail that she ordered for the table to share with a round of Bloody Marys. The trio had settled in for a long time with lots of food and drink to be had.

And things were going well until most of the way through the meal when Ariel once again decided to turn her attention to Penelope’s increased weight.

“Face it, Penelope. You’re getting kinda chunky there, girl.”

Eleanor dropped her fork.

“Ariel,” said Eleanor as the weakest defense of Penelope possible. 

It was a gentle attempt to stop Ariel from digging into Penelope further, and Ariel waved it off like it was nothing.

“What? I’m right. I know it. You know it. She knows it. Look. Penelope is a beautiful girl who used to have a truly stunning figure- not as stunning as mine- but stunning, really good. And now she’s porked up a bit- Porky Penny- that’s a good one. She’s porked up, gotten pudgy, and if she’s not careful she’ll become a full blown fatty just like you.”

“Hey!”

Ariel scoffed at Eleanor’s defensive shock.

“Oh, what? Like you don’t know you’re fat. You’re another order of biscuits and gravy away from needing two chairs to sit at this table. I’m just calling a cow a cow.”

“Come on, Ariel,” said Penelope in practically a whisper. Now it was her turn to tentatively come to her friend’s defense.

“No. No. This is for your own good. You ladies need a little bit of tough love, especially you Penelope.”

“It may be too late for Enormous Eleanor here, but you’ve still got the chance to turn this around before you’re just round. Do you want that? Do you really want to be a big fat fatty? A lard ass loser? Because I can see it happening if you’re not careful. You’re already getting squishy.”

Ariel leaned over in her seat and started poking Penelope in her pudgy belly which made Penelope yelp. And that yelp was another source of enjoyment for Ariel who took another sip of her drink and kept poking.

“Look, you’ve never really been competition to me, but if you keep going like you’re going you’re going to fly so far out of my weight class that we won’t be sharing any spreads at all anymore. Your thighs are just going to keep spreading, getting fatter until nobody wants to hire you. Then you’ll end up an obese has-been just like Eleanor the Elephant here.”

“That’s enough,” Eleanor announced as she slammed her hands down on the table.

For a moment, 

“It’s true though. It’s so true. You’re huge. You’re a big fat fatty, a total lard ass. You’re fat. Just like- come on and admit it.”

Ariel didn’t want to keep looking directly into Eleanor’s eyes as she glared at her, so she turned toward Penelope for support.

“She needs to hear it-”

“She knows,” Penelope interrupted with a whisper.

Ariel did not take the hint and instead got louder which was starting to attract attention from nearby tables.

“Does she? Cause she doesn’t act like it. She just keeps stuffing her face, and so do you. That’s why you’ve gained so much weight recently.”

“You told her that already. Let’s just move on,” said Eleanor in an attempt at defense that just incensed Ariel more.

“But she needs to hear it again and get it through her thick head before she ends up as thick as you or worse.”

Ariel finished her drink and waved for another one as she got up and squeezed Eleanor’s lower belly roll with all her strength. She gave it a good hard shake as she went on her rant.

“You let yourself go. You were the hottest model in the game until you let it all go to your head and got fat and lazy. You ate yourself into the hog that we all see spread out before us right here, and that’s why you’re stuck as just a manager working your way through all the debt you built up before you turned yourself up into a total land whale. You’re a total sad sack, Eleanor. You’re pathetic.”

Then Ariel slid her hands up and cupped Eleanor’s chubby cheeks.

“But hey, your fat ass still has so many connections, and that’s why we get to be friends still. You ride my coattails, and get me gigs, and I pay your bills and pick up the tabs for nice fancy brunch like this.”

She gently slapped Eleanor’s cheeks and then smiled.

“And remember, when I tell you the truth like this, maybe you’ll actually listen and get your shit together, get your life back on track, ya know? I mean, you’ll never be thin again, but at least you could lose a little weight.”

Ariel staggered back to her seat and then reached out and pat Penelope on her shoulder.

“And you, Porky Penny, you can take this cautionary tale before it’s too late. See?”

She picked up and fork and ate a bit of Penelope’s waffle.

“Aren’t I such a good friend?”

“You sure are, Ariel,” whispered Penelope with a sigh. Her head hung so low that a hint of a double chin appeared.

Ariel reached out and tweaked it.

“It’s true. Somebody needs to be the better person and save you from your fat and getting fat selves. You’re lucky to have someone as beautiful, smart, kind, and helpful as me to look out for you.”

As Eleanor and Penelope sat there staring down ashamedly at their unfinished plates of food, Ariel got a wicked idea, and a slow smile crept across her face.

“Give me that, Fatso.”

She took what was left of Eleanor’s biscuits and gravy and dug right in. Ariel ate with such ferocity that her feasting threatened to splatter gravy all over her designer outfit. The grease and gravy certainly did smear her makeup a bit as bits of crumbly biscuit and gravy coated sausage dotted her chins and chin. But that didn’t stop Ariel from eating. In fact, in between bites of Eleanor’s sausage and gravy, she attacked what was left of Penelope’s chicken and waffles and chased both meals with a side of bacon.

Eleanor and Penelope had never seen anything like it. Sure, they had seen Ariel have the occasional indulgent meal as she enjoyed showing off and flexing her speedy metabolism. But this was beyond that. Ariel was acting like an eating machine, stuffing herself like a bottomless pit, like a real pig.

And she wasn’t nearly done-

Because the three women had already ordered dessert. 

There was a part of Eleanor that was going to miss the dessert that she had ordered, but there was another part of her excited to see just how much dessert Ariel could fit into her already bloated stomach. She wanted to see Ariel stuffed herself, and she imagined what a routine of Ariel doing that would mean for a future.

Eleanor was very eager to find out.

The sound of plates hitting the table snapped Eleanor out of her daydream as dessert was served. For herself, Ariel had ordered a slice of the creme brulee cheesecake. Eleanor had been planning on treating herself with some chocolate mousse, and Penelope had ordered a brownie smore. Of course, after that tongue lashing by Ariel, neither Eleanor nor Penelope had much stomach left for eating their dessert in front of her. 

“Pass em forward, ladies.”

They shoved their plates toward Ariel who now found herself with three desserts in front of her after finishing off their prior brunch plates along with her own. 

“Like I said. Saving you from yourselves. You’re welcome, bitches.”

With that said, she took one last swig of her mimosa, called for some coffee, and dug right in. 

The crème brulee cheesecake made a very satisfying crack as her spoon hit the topping. Its creamy texture made Ariel moan with delight. She took her time devouring it, partly because it was so rich, but mostly because it gave Eleanor and Penelope more time to take their desserts back if they wanted to. It was like a little dare to them. But neither touched their food. They just watched Ariel eat and eat and eat. The cheesecake melted on Ariel’s tongue even as she had to reach one hand under the table to rub her very bloated belly.

Her stomach was not used to being stretched this much. It was filled even more than it had been when she was showing off her eating skills in front of her fat assistant, Kelly. This was a whole new challenge, and a rather exciting one. It wasn’t every day that Ariel got to test new limits for herself. Normally things just came easy. But she was more than up for this delicious challenge especially because, as she looked at Eleanor and Penelope’s faces, it was clear that she was putting them to shame.

The chocolate mousse went down easily. It was light and delicate and even came with a generous dollop of delicious whipped cream and a couple of cut up strawberries. Like a competitive eating expert, Ariel saved the strawberries for last as a kind of palette cleanser before digging into the decadent brownie smore. Ariel didn’t have time to truly rank the mousse amongst the desserts. At a certain point the flavor became less important to her, and she was consumed by the act of eating. 

She didn’t even notice the bit of mousse, covered in chocolate syrup, that dropped onto her blouse leaving a rather obvious brown stain. Instead, she just saw it plop down onto the table and, without thinking, she picked it up again with her spoon and stuffed it into her mouth before chasing it with a spoonful of whipped cream.

Eleanor was speechless. Some part of her wanted to applaud, but she also didn’t want to break Ariel’s concentration lest she give up on this gluttonous display. But Eleanor could have clapped all day. She could have rung and gong and shot off fireworks. Nothing was stopping Ariel from eating. She was dogged in her pursuit of piggishness.

The rest of the mousse slid down Ariel’s slender throat and another moan was interrupted by a loud burp that cleared some space in her bloated stomach for more food.

That left just the brownie smore.

The brownie smore wasn’t really a smore in the traditional sense. It was actually a brownie served in a miniature cast iron skillet with toasted marshmallows and crushed graham crackers around and on top of it along with lots of whipped cream and chocolate syrup, but Ariel and her stomach didn’t care about these semantics. She attacked the brownie with reckless abandon.

It was a truly decadent dessert, and Ariel’s stomach groaned as she ate it. But it was also sinfully delicious, and its grand taste made eating it less of a challenge and more of a delight. The graham cracker provided just the right amount of crunch, and the brownie was wonderfully gooey but with the perfectly crisped outer crust. But the marshmallows… Ariel’s favorite part may have been the marshmallows, and since this was the last of the desserts, she really allowed herself to savor every last decadent bite.

Eleanor had never imagined she would see anything like this, but she was thankful for the display. Ariel was making an absolute pig of herself, complete with a few new stains on her blouse, but she wasn’t going to stop until the food was done.

By the time her fork hit the final plate, Ariel was a mess, a rather satisfied mess. She was stuffed and positively dizzy from all the food, and the alcohol, that she had consumed and quickly called for the check,

“Brunch is on me, ladies. As always.”

This was true, only this time Ariel was physically wearing a lot more of brunch than was usual.

Once the check was paid for, an intoxicated Ariel stood up and showed off her food baby to the two awestruck women. 

“Pretty impressive, huh? You know the most impressive part? I’ll be fine in an hour. And that’s what makes me better than you. Jealous, bitches? I can eat whatever I want and still be smoking hot forever, fatties.”

Ariel burped again.

“Now… now if you excuse me…. I’m going to go sleep this off.”

She looked at Eleanor and Penelope with a satisfied and chocolate stained grin.

“Don’t worry. I paid… as usual.”

With that, the unsteady Ariel and her new food baby turned around and waddle toward the door. As she left, all heads turned toward once again, but Ariel was blissfully unaware that they were turning for a different reason.

Curiosity.

Whispers were already starting.

Eleanor was curious too. She wondered if it was possible to get Ariel to eat like this on a regular basis, if it was possible for Ariel to get fat.

Ariel had paid for brunch, but Eleanor wanted to make her pay over and over and over again.

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If you've enjoyed this story so far, a lot of it was already up on my Discord for Even More BS members. Lots of teasers and early releases will keep going up there as I work on this and other stories. You can upgrade your membership HERE.

Want a look at Ariel's future? You can get a spicy story that previews the possibilities right HERE.

Patreon Exclusive: "Face It, You're Getting Fatter"

Here's a real short piece that is a patreon exclusive and part of my "Face It" series of shorts.

Enjoy!

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Just look at you. Damn. You were fat before. But now? You’ve just completely given up haven’t you? No more gym for you. That last trip was one too many. You can’t handle that kind of humiliation anymore. You’re just too soft in mind and body- especially body. 

Holy shit. For real, look at how much fatter you’ve gotten. Face it. Your body is out of control now, and that’s exactly what you wanted. I’ve seen the way you eat. I’ve seen the way you keep asking me for me.

Say it. Tell me you want me to make you fatter.

That’s right. I need to hear it. I need to hear the yes. Tell me yes. Tell me you want this and I’ll give you everything you want and more.

Yes. Yes was what I needed. And now this whole thing is sealed. You can keep eating to your fat heart’s content, and you’re going to keep getting fatter. It’s all you’re doing now. This is what you wanted. So eat up, fatty. Eat up and get fatter.

This belly has already had so much food in it. That’s why there’s so much blubber here. That’s why those abs you used to be so proud of are long gone and never coming back. It’s hard to believe that this gut has any room for more, and yet we both know that it does. So let’s keep stuffing it. I’ve got another bowl of mac and cheese and a bowl of cheesy chili both working on the stove, but I already brought a box of doughnuts that you can dig into right here. What does it matter to you if you eat dessert before dinner, fatty?

You’re just a hungry helpless piggy aren’t you? Manners don’t matter. Feeding times don’t matter. You’re just used to being fed all the time, and you always want more. So have more. I’ll always be here with more.

Look at your legs. You’ve got two fat feet with little sausage toes. And your calves and ankles are coming together. They’ll be cankles soon enough. Look at your thighs. They’re so thick. So soft. My hand is sinking into this buttery fat. It feels like a pillow. Just the slightest touch and they quiver. Was that a soft little moan I heard? Yes it is. You love my touch. You want more of my touch. Don’t you? Yes. Yes you do. That’s right. Keep saying yes. Thank you. I love the feel of these  thighs and of the buttery buns of your blubbery butt. So soft, so squeezable. You’ve got two big mounds of fat back there, so bouncy. You used to be able to bounce a quarter off your ass, but now they’re just loose, saggy orbs of flabby flesh. That just defines you now, softness. Fat.

You’re like a marshmallow, a big fat pillow perfect for me to rest my head on. It’s funny to think of how slim you used to be as compared to the massive fatty you are now and the absolute blob that you are becoming. You used to move so well, so gracefully, and now you’re just sitting on your fat ass waiting for me to feed you another entire bowl of mac and cheese. 

You’re so fat, and you’re getting fatter by the day. I’m going to help you achieve your dreams of being as fat as possible, and then we’re going to have a lot of fun together. 

Let’s get you filled up with food, and then we’ll get these already tight clothes off of you and get into bed.

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And if you'd like to see that bedroom story, you can read the sequel to this story "Time for Sex" right HERE if you're an Even More BS member.

"Extra Slices #6: Fortunes and Facing It"

This set of patreon exclusive stories features 2 stories that are sequels to my "Fortune Telling" and "Face Off" series of shorts.

Enjoy!

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“Madame Zara in Businesswoman Goes Big and Bust”

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Marlena was a businesswoman, a real boss bitch as it was. She was the kind of woman who dressed in power suits and loved being in complete control of every situation she walked into. She was an aggressive micromanager who loved to manipulate and control others. And she hated fat people. She was an extremely fit woman, a woman who was proud of the figure that she had worked hard to achieve.

Everything she had gotten she had worked hard for. Marlena was an absolute workaholic, and anyone who didn’t work as much as she did, didn’t bother to grind as hard as her, they were lazy losers. And fat people were the perfect embodiment of this. She saw them as greedy, piggish slobs and nothing more than that. They couldn’t hang with her. They had no business being around her. And making fun of fat people became one of the few forms of stress relief that Marlena had.

Yes. Marlena had a lot of money, and she had a stereotypically hot body. But she was also an anxious wreck, stressed out and angry all the time and surely working herself to an early grave.

That’s where Madame Zara came in.

The fortune telling was just supposed to be for a laugh. It was a company party and Marlena, on a rare night where she had allowed herself a second martini, was talked into letting herself relax and half fun for once with a playful reading from the stranger. Madame Zara, sensing Marlena’s vanity and stress played her cards accordingly. She predicted that Marlena would become a great big glutton of a woman, the kind of lazy person who spent her days indulging in hedonistic pleasures and simply stuffing her fat face like a good lazy pig.

Marlena scoffed. In fact, she did more than that. She yelled. She berated Madama Zara, and she created quite the scene while doing so.

But within days of that portent-filled meeting, Marlena began acting differently, loosening up, indulging more. She began stress snacking at first. And then just regular snacking. She allowed herself to eat all sorts of tasty treats that she had previously ignored. Ice cream became a regular habit, but she was also frequently seen snacking on chips and cookies and anything else that she could get her hands on. On more than one occasion she strolled into a meeting with a pudding stain or something similar on her blouse. Marlena simply didn’t care.

She started eating more at home too. Her meals became bigger, longer. She found herself ordering in more food from a greater variety of places, but she also found herself going out a lot more too with the clear intent of trying new places and new food, lots of new food. She found herself sampling a little bit of everything, and the more she ate the more she learned something important.

Food made Marlena feel good. 

It also made her fat.

The better Marlena felt, the more she ate. On days when she didn’t feel good, she ate to feel better. She ate constantly and as a result her fit figure soon disappeared, buried under layers of fatness. Her trim tummy turned into a tubby one. With each new tub of ice cream that she consumed, her tubby tummy got tubbier. He ballooned into a full blown button busting blubber belly. And she grew a titanic ass to match.

Marlena’s ass blew out behind her. She developed two big bulbous cheeks and bounced with every step that she took. And those steps got more labored as the pounds kept piling on. She grew thick thunder thighs that started to rub together and turned her formerly confident strut into a slow waddle. She moved like a fat penguin through the office, frequently knocking things off of the corners of desks.

She was a mess.

And she didn’t care.

She just kept eating.

Strangely enough, even as she outgrew her clothes, even as she noticed the judgmental looks she was suddenly getting, the kind of looks she used to happily dole out to others, Marlena didn’t stress out about how she looked. As her weight went up, her stress went down. She was becoming exactly the kind of fatty she used to make fun of, but she kept eating anyway. She watched as each day her body got bigger, and she made the conscious choice not to change- unless it was changing into a bigger outfit of course. And the more she ate and the fatter the grew the more frequent those outfit changes needed to be until Marlena gave in and discovered the joys of stretchy pants.

Marlena stopped caring about a lot of things. She stopped caring about how she looked, and she stopped caring about work especially. She started showing up late for meetings and missing deadlines. The only meetings she was ever on time for were ones that happened over food, and then she would be far too focused on stuffing her face to contribute anything productive. Eventually, it wasn’t just that Marlena was letting her figure go. She was let go from her job as well.

And still Marlena didn’t care. She just found herself eating more in response. All the time she no longer spent working meant she could spend a lot more time eating, and she really took advantage of it. It turned out that Marlena had also spent a lot of time saving and making wise investments, so by the time she was fired she never really needed to work anymore anyway. She could spend her days indulging, growing fatter than ever and being happier than ever.

Marlena went from being vain, and stereotypically fit, slim and sexy to being a completely out of shape blob of a woman. She had become a fat slob, far fatter than anyone she had ever made fun of. And she found it all to be beautiful. And she couldn’t have been happier. She was also kinder, gentler and well loved by everyone.

It was a fat and wonderful life.

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“Time for Sex”

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God, you’ve gotten so fat and it’s beautiful. Just look at you there, peeling your clothes off. It’s slow work because it takes so much fabric to cover your big, beautiful, blubbery body. And it’s sticking to all that sweat you’ve worked up, worked up from just standing there because you’re so large. But keep going.

Take it all off.

I love watching you undo that top, watching those strained buttons finally get to relax. You can’t help but pop one with your chubby fingers in your eagerness to get your clothes off. It was already under so much pressure because of your big blubbery belly. And now that blobbish mass of fat is free to burst forth, uncontained. It flops out even further. No point in sucking in. You hold your gut in your fat hands and give it a big shake. Up and down. Up and down. You know what it does to me. You know how aroused you touching your big, fat flabby body makes me feel. I love watching you knead your belly blubber like it’s bread dough, and this is your way of taking control for a bit.

You want to tease me. You want to make me want you even more. I see what you’re doing. We’ve both agreed to this. We both love it. We can’t get enough of it. Of all this fat, this food, of each other. I watch as you pinch your love handles and let out a pathetic little moan. It’s so hot that way your fat hands keep going back to your gut and shaking it further, undulating it up and down. Hypnotic. Your entire body is comprised of fat folds that shake and quiver at the slightest touch, and I want to rub my hands all over them.

But you won’t let me.

Not yet.

Pants first.

That button has been screaming all day, especially after that last meal I got in you. That was quite the feast wasn’t it? And it’s got you all revved up. Me too. But the pants, the pants have to go first. And you peel them off extra slow because they’re practically painted onto your thick thunder thighs. The inside part of your pants leg proves especially difficult because your thighs are pressed so tightly together. All that fat you’ve got. It’s what makes your waddle. It makes you widen your stance in desperation, but your thighs just keep wanting to touch. They crave that touch just like I do. And now your belly keeps getting in the way. It wants to hang there, sagging down like an apron of fat as you fight against its heavy mass just to get your pants off.

You’re getting winded, but it’s okay. You’ll get to rest, laying on your back soon enough. You’re looking forward to that. I know that’s what you want. I’ve heard you say it over and over again. You’re begging for it, but you’re putting it off as best you can. I love it. Go ahead. Keep going. Slip those pants down your thunder thighs. Let them drop to the floor past your bloated cankles and let me see you slowly step out of them. It’s hard lifting your fat feet isn’t it? So hard.

Are you even wearing underwear today? It’s so hard to tell because you’re that fucking fat. You big fat apron of a belly, this saggy sack of fat just hangs down so far down your thighs, it covers up anything you might be wearing underneath. Same with your thick meaty love handles hanging there like slabs of drooping fat. And your ass cheeks? Your big, bloated, cellulite covered ass cheeks would have thoroughly eaten your underwear.

But I don’t think it’s there in the first place. You know better. You didn’t bother wearing any underwear today because your knew this was coming. You’ve been waiting for this. You’ve been such a good piggy all day so you could earn this moment, and you didn’t want to slow things down by worrying about something as silly as underwear.

And now you’ll get on your back, just the way you want it.

You do want this, right?

Yes. Yes. That’s what I want to hear. You’re with me. I’m with you. We love each other and your fat, and now you’re getting flat on your back for me. It’s a beautiful sight, you laying there looking so helpless, so needy, so wanting this. The desire in your eyes is almost as intoxicating as the sight of your fat body, the massive mounds of flesh that I am about to scale.

Sex is so different now. Back when you were thin, you used to be in charge. You were so flexible, so athletic. You loved to be on top. Oh the things you would do. But now? Now you love this even more. You sit back and feel your fat move, feel my touch, gentle, then firm, then anything we want. Your body pulses. Your fat sloshes about. You quiver and moan as you jiggle. Each move, each touch causes more of your fat to ripple over and over again. You’re far more sensitive now than you ever were before. The pleasure crashes over you in waves, it moves just like your fat does. It’s overwhelming. It’s so good.

Yes. Yes. Always yes. Tell me how much more you want, and I’ll give it to you. I have the chocolate covered strawberries you asked for right here, and the whipped cream, and the honey. And I will gladly feed you, cover you, lick it off of every fat fold of your body. You're not fit anymore, but that doesn’t matter. You’ll never be slim and athletic again, and we both agree that’s for the best. We tumble together. We lose ourselves in exertion and ecstasy. We finish together and I lay myself on your soft pillowy body.

This is heaven. This is perfection. This is us now and forever more, fat and happy.

TEASER: "Model Made to Waddle" Chapter 2

I've started working on "Model Made to Waddle" Chapter 2 and have completed over 2,300 words so far. If you haven't read chapter 1, you're going to want to read it HERE.

If you enjoy this teaser, there is over 1,200 more words worth of content currently available on Discord to Even More BS members.

Enjoy!

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Ariel rolled out of bed with ease. Her slinky body slipped out of her silk sheets and curved to the floor in a gentle arc that made her look like a dancer. Her dainty feet gently touch down on the cozy carpet, and she soon alighted from the bed and practically pranced over to her vanity mirror. 

As she shook her head, Ariel’s blonde curls fell perfectly into place as if she was a Disney princess, and she smiled at herself as she admired the perfect lips that rested on the rest of her perfect face. She allowed herself to get lost for a moment in the subtle curves of her angular cheeks, the cuteness of her button nose and the delicate nature of her chin. 

She couldn’t help but blow herself a kiss. 

Then, her daily physical affirmation continued as her slender hands moved down the sloped sides of her hourglass figure. She enjoyed the ways her hands naturally moved inward and then out again as she traced the curve of her hips. It was like running her hands over the curves of a fine automobile, something gorgeous, tuned to absolute perfection. She enjoyed the way her hands cupped the toned cheeks of her luscious, heart-shaped and slightly supple butt. It had just the right amount of tantalizing give to it without a hint of stretch or sag.

Once she was done inspecting her immaculate ass, Ariel brought hands around her thighs, feeling the muscles instinctively tense as her fingers danced along them. Then, she slid her fingers up the front of her thighs until they began to lift up the hem of her silk nightie. She gently, slowly, pulled her nightie up until it was past her belly button, then higher until it was almost to her breasts. With her entire abdomen exposed to the mirror, Ariel had another piece of her beautiful body to shamelessly admire.

Her lips parted in a soft moan that turned itself into a playful laugh as her fingers traced the faint outline of unearned muscle. What a marvelous joke on the world it was, these fantastic abs, these sexy and tight curves that had taken nothing more than lottery winning genetics to achieve. As her fingers proudly prodded at the muscles on her stomach she thought about all of those poor, lesser, women out there who struggle to lose those last ten pounds, who can’t even look at pasta without developing a pooch. She thought of all the hard work they had to go through just to look not even half as good as her. Hell, she thought of all the actors who lived in the gym to get in shape for superhero movies, getting shredded only to blow up a bit once shooting was done. They should see her and be jealous just like everyone else-

Especially Kelly.

Ariel laughed again as she thought of how humiliated she had made her fat assistant feel. She knew that fat lazy pig definitely deserved it. She had enjoyed dressing her down, showing how much she could eat in front of Kelly and making her incredibly jealous. She loved flaunting her body whether it was in front of her fat loser assistant Kelly, her easily jealous friends, total strangers, or even just herself in the mirror.

As Ariel continued to inspect her abs she thought back to all the food she had eaten yesterday and laughed again. What a pig she had been. Slim and sexy Ariel had eaten like an absolute fat girl, gone whole hog as it was, and there wasn’t a shred of evidence of it on her body, not even a bit of bloating or some water retention thanks to all the salt in her meal. It was like all of those calories she had consumed had disappeared, evaporated into the ether never to be seen again. Plenty of people would have proclaimed it to be magic, but Ariel knew it was just another case of her good genes, another sign that she was truly blessed, truly better than everyone else.

She blew her abs a kiss.

And then Ariel let her nightie fall back down and instead cupped her generous breasts in her hands. She left the feeling of their size yet gravity defying firmness in her hands. She felt so beautiful as she closed her eyes and caressed her chest. Another moan left her mouth and she found her hands trailing up her slender neck until they landed back on her delicate facial features.

She effortlessly tossed her hair over her shoulders a few times just to play around with it and then turned to skip over to her closet. As she did so, Ariel couldn’t help but turn her head back over her shoulder to catch the reflection of her shapely ass in the mirror. She loved the way it playfully stretched the back of her nightie just the right amount, and she blew her beautiful butt a kiss too.

For a moment as she sauntered over to her closet, Ariel imagined what it would be like to be like most other people. She pictured herself with a tubby, untoned tummy, the kind of pasty little paunch that stuck itself out and made fitting into decent pants a chore with the way it insisted on pushing and popping the button. Ariel touched her abs again as she imagined a muffin top poking over the edges of one of her designer skirts now too tight because of her wider hips and grown ass. 

She pictured her beautiful bubble butt bubbling up way too much, bloating with blubber and sagging down onto the backs of thicker thunder thighs. It was an absurd little daydream, picturing herself getting even a little chubby let alone completely fat. Fat was for weak people, losers, not her. Nonetheless, she continued to entertain the thoughts as she casually perused the many offerings of her richly filled closet. 

After selecting her outfit for the day, a fabulous designer silk blouse and some gorgeous slim cut pants to further flatter a figure that needed no help in this regard, Ariel set her clothes aside and headed to take her usual morning shower.

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Want to see that shower scene right now? Along with breakfast and more? You can read the rest of what I've written so far right now on Discord if you're an Even More BS member. You can upgrade your membership HERE.

And once again, if you haven't read chapter 1, you're going to want to check that out HERE.

"Two Sisters at the Gym"

Here's a quick piece based on a real experience from a couple of weeks ago. I've been itching to write it down and figured now would be a good time to do so. Eventually I'll collect this and some other small pieces I have worked on or am working on and put them in a volume of "Fat Trimmings". For now....

Enjoy!

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This is a true story. 

They were quite the sight to see, coming down the stairs together. The first one I noticed was the large one. And she was LARGE! 

We are talking extremely round with especially sizable hips.They were wide and had a large amount of sway to them as she made her way down the staircase. The staircase itself was quite wide, designed to let numerous people easily go up and down between the gym’s two floors, and she took up a good portion of it. She was a girthy girl with a big solid ball of a gut. One might have guessed given her size that her gut would have gotten sloppy and become a sloshing, segmented double belly, a big sagging apron of blubber. But this big gut of hers must have had muscle working overtime to hold it up underneath, because it stuck out in one solid flabby mass with just enough jiggle and sway to it to signal that it was all made of fat and that she wasn’t pregnant. 

Her thighs were thick and I watched them shake with each step she took coming down the stairs. But I could tell that even though her thighs had a fair amount of jiggle to them that all that fat was layered onto plenty of powerful muscle. I’m sure her ass was pretty huge too with plenty of bounce for her bountiful buttcheeks. I couldn’t see them very well though because she was walking toward me, but her ass was so wide that I could glimpse the sides of her chunky cheeks, and I did get a great view of her breasts.

Those breasts were big heaving melons, round mounds that stretched out her tank top and created a canyon of cleavage. They were fleshy orbs without a sign of stretch marks despite their hefty size. And that size matched the size of her globular gut perfectly which, while she was certainly fat all over, gave her a decidedly apple shape.

Her face had plenty of shape to it as well, and just like the rest of her that shape was round. She had big round apple cheeks, and her chin was rounded out and paired with another. She had a big fat moon face that was absolutely beautiful despite the fact that she had clearly been working out.

I almost didn’t see her sister at first. This was mostly due to the fact that her sister was walking behind her, and the size difference between the two was so incredible. It was like a movie gag come to life where the thin woman was hidden behind the morbidly obese one. To say she was half the size of her sister was probably conservative. She was quite skinny.

To many, the thin sister would be considered a stereotypical hottie. She was slender with just a bit of curve to her hips and a pair of breasts simply contained in a sports bra. She looked like the kind of woman who had spent her entire life being effortlessly thin. 

And she was laughing, not at her sister but with her. They seemed to be having a rather pleasant time as one followed the other. 

That was when I really noticed some subtleties. 

While the one sister was fat, the thinner sister seemed to be far less inclined to working out. As I got closer, passing them on the stairs, I could see that there was a subtle softness to her slim figure. She wore athletic shorts, but despite her size she still had small, soft, pinchable love handles that pouched over the elastic waistband. She was your classic skinny fat and was clearly following her sister who was the real one putting in work at the gym. And that got me thinking.

What if she followed her sister in other ways?

It didn’t take much imagination to see the inevitable future. From her carefree attitude it was clear that fatness is in her future. It’s only a matter of time before the family genes catch up to her, her metabolism crashes and the pounds pile on. Just like her BIG sister, she’ll have a big blubbery belly, thick thunder thighs, wide hips and a big fat ass with some voluptuous breasts and round moon face complete with a doughy double chin. But unlike her large but athletic sister, that fat is going to settle far differently.

With her, the fat is going to be sloppy. She doesn’t have the muscle to support it. She hasn’t worked out hard enough, put in the effort. So if her sister is large but built outward, she is going to be fat and flabby with lots and lots of sag. Her body is going to be defined by her fat rolls, by folds of flabby flesh that hang downward, melting buttery fat. She’s going to have a gut so large that it segments into a blubbery double belly. Her ass cheeks are going to be like a broken down shelf. They’ll stick outward, but they'll be soft saggy pillows that slap onto the backs of her thick thunder thighs. Those thighs will be sweating, slapping and rubbing together. They will grow wide like tree trunks but soft with fat that her chubby hands can really sink int. Her ass and thighs will be cursed with a cottage cheese-like consistency. She’ll have flabby bingo wings, and her face won’t just be round. It will be piggish.

She’ll still be following her sister around then, but she’ll be waddling after her with her whole body reduced to a jiggling, quivering mess. Fat will ooze out of every outfit she tries to wear, and she’ll be sucking air just from trying to cross short distances. She’ll reach the point where she knows she’ll never be thin again and her only answer to that will be to stuff her fat face with even more food.

And that will be a sight to see.

PATREON EXCLUSIVE - "The Scales of Time: Something's Brewing"

I'm still waiting for progress to be made on getting "The Fat Making Notebook Goes Out to the Ball Game" out of Patreon jail. And while I'm waiting, I figured I would dip back into the world of "The Scales of Time" and give a glimpse at the future....

Enjoy!

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Getting out of bed was always rather hard for Vivian. The weight of her big blubbery body was a big factor in that. But her troubles went beyond her blubber belly and bulbous ass weighing her down. Usually, her depression over her loss of power and status did almost as much as her ass did to keep her anchored in place. 

But eventually, things started to turn around.

Not weight wise of course. Vivian’s weight only ever increased. Getting out of bed still meant having to fight against her big blubbery belly as it sat as a stubborn spare tire on top of her, or sloshed from side to side like a sea of useless fat. Her gut had grown even larger and made her janitorial uniform even tighter. In fact, she had gotten so big she had outgrown her first uniform and needed a larger second, one that was designed to be purposefully snug but was now even snugger. 

Her big belly wasn’t the only thing that had grown of course. Her ass had also become even more enormous. Her blubbery cheeks didn’t just shake, they quaked when she waddled about. And that waddling was thanks to two tremendous thunder thighs that had continued to thicken with soft, quivering fat. Those thighs, and the rest of her fat legs along with her bulbous butt made her plodding about a slow and pathetic affair. Her thighs constantly pushed and rubbed together with no hope of relief, and her entire lower half was covered in cellulite. She was a cottage cheese kind of mess. 

And from the waist up her blubbery body wasn’t doing her any favors either. 

Beyond her belly were her breasts which we’re now soft pillowy things with plenty of sag and not nearly as much size as the rest of her. Even as the rest of her mammoth body continued to grow more massive the gains in her mammaries remained marginal. Even her arms had grown more, obviously not with muscle but with fat. Her bingo wings had packed on even more blubber. Her chubby fingers, consistently coated in grease, were thicker and clumsier as well. 

And her face. 

Vivian’s face had grown more piggish than ever. It was fatter, rounded and flabbier with a brand new chin starting to join her others. Her jowls still jiggled, now with even more ferocity. She had the face of a true glutton. 

And that’s exactly what she was. 

Vivian couldn’t help herself as she settled down to another big breakfast, the first of many big meals for the day. It just was her life now, and strangely enough, she had to admit that it had become her seemingly one bright spot. One of the few joys that she got from being fat was the freedom to eat whatever it was that she wanted, and what she wanted was a large quantity of a diverse array of food. And lately, long after the magic made her this way, she wanted more and more and more.

Her hunger had just naturally grown over time. At one point everything that she did was based on how her timeline had been manipulated, how the magic at the end of the challenge had changed her further, and she frequently found herself blaming Julie or the coven for her trouble, but that was getting harder to do by the day. It was clear that now her growing appetite was her own, and with her growing appetite came a continuously growing waistline.

And Vivian’s appetite had grown quite large and varied. She was constantly munching on anything her fat fingers could get a hold of. She greedily gripped her snacks in her chubby hands and was frequently seen stuffing her face. There were full feasts to be had, lavish meals loaded with carbs and sugar and fat. Vivian used to contain her appetite to eating clean. Her tastes were also often rather boring. But now she munched on Mexican food, had eyes for Italian, and chomped on Chinese. She pigged out on Puerto Rican and Peruvian food and enjoyed every kind of empanada. Vivian crammed her cheeks full of curries and scarfed down shakshuka. She was as stuffed as the mushrooms, peppers, and twice baked potatoes that she would frequently eat. Nobody would have mistaken the large woman for being picky. Her girth had turned her into a gluttonous gourmand.

It wasn’t just the full meals of course. The snacking was endless. It wasn’t even secret snacking anymore. Vivian, once ashamed, was too hungry to hold onto that shame any longer and so her constant snacking became quite notorious. She ate greasy potato chips of every flavor imaginable. Many people chain smoke, but Vivian chain ate. It was not unusual for her to work her way through most of a variety snack pack in a sitting. She would start with regular, then salt and vinegar followed by sour cream and onion, barbecue and then back to regular. She would often ignore the lightly salted variety of chips, but sometimes she would eat them between other more powerful flavors as a kind of pallet cleanser. She was constantly munching on chips, and therefore crumbs and flavor dust were constantly getting everywhere, on her clothes, in her bed sheets, lost in the canyon of her cleavage. Vivian, once so prim and proper, now ate potato chips like an absolute pig.

Chips were one of Vivian’s biggest food weaknesses, but they were only one of many. Chocolate was another one of Vivian’s favorite things to fill her greedy gut with. She was frequently seen with chocolate stains on her shirts or around her lips. It didn’t matter the kind of chocolate, dark, milk, or white (which technically isn’t chocolate, but Vivian’s stogy stomach wasn’t going to care). She ate chocolate with nuts in it, chocolate with pretzels. She was a big fan of chocolate with creamy centers, the kind that oozed out onto her tongue when she took a bite. Of course, if the chocolate was small enough, she didn’t worry about silly things like bites. She stuffed the whole thing in her mouth. She ate M&Ms and other things by the handful, and chocolate that found itself melt on her hands was either licked off or carelessly wiped off on her pants. The chips that Vivian ate were frequently chased by chocolate. Vivian really loved the salty sweet combo.

Every meal Vivian ate was finished with chocolate or some other kind of dessert. And those desserts were just as varied as her meals and snacks. She ate cookies, cakes, pies and ice cream. And the lists of individual kinds of those desserts would each be a mile long. It would be completely impractical to try to name all of the things that Vivian ate because one might as well then read the dictionary. Vivian ate everything she could, and she did it all with reckless abandon.

Food made her happy. She may have been ridiculously fat, far from the fit figure she once had, but as long as she had food by her side, Vivian found she had something to perk her up which is why she kept food around at all times. She was always ready to nosh as a way of picking up her spirits. Many would say that this meant that the once slim, sexy and confident Vivian was now a fat, out of shape, self-conscious and messy emotional overeater, exactly the kind of fat loser she would have previously made fun of. But in Vivian’s eyes, she was just being practical. Eating food raised her endorphins, and endorphins, and lots of sugar, gave her enough energy to drag herself through her otherwise miserable days. And Vivian needed to get through her days however possible, because ultimately, she knew that she just had to keep buying herself time.

You see, Vivian had no plans on being fat forever. She may have been obese and powerless in her present, but she saw great potential in her future. Vivian was determined to be pretty and petite again eventually. She may not have been confident in her looks, but she was very confident in her plan. All she needed to do was keeping hanging out with her new friend Marjorie- 

And Marjorie’s mother Scarlet. 

Even with her own powers diminished, there was still a part of her that could sense Scarlet’s immense power right away. It was like nothing she had felt before. All her life, she had known people who could shape reality through words, totems. But to be able to bend it completely at will? Just being that close to someone who could do that was a sensation unlike any other.

After that first meeting, it was just a matter of doing a bit of research when she was supposed to be cleaning up the coven’s library and listening to concerned members after meetings that she was already eavesdropping on. (People with loose lips tend not to pay attention to someone with wide hips fallen so low as to just be sweeping floors and tending to garbage.) Soon she was able to learn all about Scarlet, the Nightmare Witch. And with the right play for sympathy and a lot of careful manipulation, mostly of Marjorie, Vivian knew she would be on her way to getting her powers back and getting her revenge.

Because once she was fit again, she was going to make Julie and her entire family suffer a fate worse than fat.

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If you enjoyed this, you could have enjoyed it almost an hour and a half ago on Discord if you were an Even More BS member (an with a downloadable PDF version no less!) You can upgrade your membership HERE to get the earliest drops.

"Just a Little Test"

This is a very quick little thing while I'm waiting for the ongoing review of "The Fat Making Notebook Goes Out to the Ball Game" Part 2 to wrap up. It's mostly to test that I can still keep posting things just fine.

I don't think this is very good, but hey maybe you'll....

Enjoy!

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We want this. We know we do. You’ve told me how much you want it over and over again. So go ahead. Have another bite. Get bigger for both of us. You know you want to.

I love this feeling, and so do you. Feel the warmth of your fat body. It’s all so beautiful. You used to have such hard curves, and now you’re just plush and lovely. Thank you for that. Thank you for getting more beautiful every day. You eat and eat and eat, and I can see how much you enjoy every bite. That metabolism of yours has collapsed and so your waistline has blown out.

And it couldn’t be hotter.

I love feeling your fat together. I know it’s one of our favorite. You worship your own body. You know your own power. You are an unstoppable goddess, and it’s an honor to worship you. I want to squeeze your belly fat and never let go. I would live with my head resting against your gut like a big soft pillow, kissing it over and over and over again if I could. But I’ll settle for making you as comfortable as possible.

You love food, and I love to give it to you.

Let’s test the waters just a bit more.

Here’s another spoonful of mac and cheese. Here’s another slice of pizza, another doughnut. Isn’t it all so good? I can hear your moaning about. I know you’re enjoying it. You want more. Don’t you?

I love the way your doughy double chin wobbles when you nod. Keep nodding for me. That’s right. I love it. You love it. Let’s keep going. We’re rolling now.

You’re so soft. So heavy. Other people make fun of you, but what damn fools they are. They don’t know what they’re talking about. They’re just jealous. They wish they had your kind of confidence, the ability to just relax and let things go, to get so soft and lovely, lusciously large like you are. You’ve got such thick thunder thighs and such meaty love handles. It’s so hard to believe that you were once so slim, but here we are.

And I’m thankful for it. 

I’m thankful for your beautiful face and your big beautiful butt with buns made of pure buttery blubber. I’m thankful for the way your big body moves in waves, undulating fat that crashes against me, washes over me, smothers me completely. You are a beautiful beached whale with an absolutely rocking body. And I never want this to end.

So let’s keep on doing this together forever. More and more and more. I'll massage you wherever and whenever. I’ll worship you completely. I’ll do whatever it is that you want to do. Ultimately you’re the one completely in control. You just name it, and I’ll do it. Most importantly, I’ll make sure the food keeps on coming. So you don’t have to worry about being taken care of. You just have to sit on your big plush butt of yours and worry about eating.

And eating.

And eating.

Fat Making Notebook Update

Hey everyone,

Just wanted to give you an update on my latest Fat Making Notebook story. Some of you may have notice that "Fat Making Notebook Goes Out to the Ball Game" Part 2 was posted and now is not there. I am hopeful that this is temporary, but it's removal was by Patreon and not by me.

That part of the story was flagged for violating the content policy. I think that this is because in part one I was clear that the softball game was a college game but in part two I did not restate the word college, and I could see how it might have accidentally create confusion because I also used the words freshman and senior that the game might have been high school. Rest assured, all of the characters in any of my stories are always 18+. I have edited the story to clarify the language, and I am hopeful that when the review is done it will be back up.

The downside is that the story is under review for two to three business days, so it might not be up again until Tuesday. When part two is reposted, I will hopefully also be able to post part 4.

As of right now, Part 2 and Part 3 are in early access on my Discord for 7 Dollar Even More BS Patrons. If you don't want to wait and want to see them now, you can upgrade your membership HERE.

"The Fat Making Notebook Goes Out to the Ball Game" Part 2

Here is part two of "The Fat Making Notebook Goes Out to the Ball Game" which comes in at over 3,600 words.

(Some important notes:

1. All characters appearing in this story are over the age of 18.

2. This is a part of a longer work of fiction. Asami is a complex and morally gray character. Her actions are certainly questionable and are not meant to be seen as good or actionable. She is almost certain to get her comeuppance at some point.

3. None of this is created through the use of AI. It is all me.)

Enjoy!

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At the college softball game itself, Asami settled in her seat in time to still see the two teams warming up. Of course, she couldn’t help herself and had to give her Alma mater a bit of a competitive edge, so she used the notebook to thicken the thighs of some of the already well built members, just enough to make their thighs slap together when they tried to run. And she added enough weight to their butts to slow them down. Now the team was full of plump people though they still had plenty of arm strength for pitching, catching, hitting and throwing. But the home team now certainly had the competitive advantage now that the visitors were a little more voluptuous. There was nothing glorious in what she was doing. It was all simple really, she wasn't very proud of it, but she did it anyway.

One of the college aged women, who looked to be at least a 20 years old, that Asami spotted got some particularly large changes. There was no reason for this, nothing sexual about it. It was purely for the game, the softball game. This particular softball player hadn’t hinted at any kind of exceptional malice toward larger individuals. But she happened to be standing in front of Asami who was on a bit of a fattening spree. And Asami could tell that there was something inside her that wanted this, that she was about to unlock.

So the athletic woman who was trying to do sprints as part of her warm-up soon found herself awkwardly swinging her leg from side to side, huffing and puffing as she fought against the growth of her bloated bubble butt and the girth of her thick thunder thighs. As she paused, Asami could see just how self conscious she had made the previously confident woman. She was sucking wind and sucking in her gut, but that gut was too small to keep contained. 

Instead, her belly bounced up and down, especially once she could no longer keep it sucked in. It lurched forward, a useless sack of fat that made her look more like a couch potato than an athlete. She looked like she was far more suited for sitting at home and stuffing her face than being on a ball field. 

After that, Asami saw the visiting starting pitcher, a college senior, warming up and couldn’t help but give her a few extra changes as well.

The starting pitcher found her arms getting flabbier. Her biceps bubbled up with fat and quivered as she got ready to throw. She didn’t lose much power on the ball, but every time she threw, her bingo wings kept jiggling for a few extra moments. The bigger thing that affected her was the change to her center of gravity thanks to the big bulging gut that she found herself burdened with. Her sizable spare tire swung around in front of her as she went into her throwing routine, and when she finally released the ball her big blubbery gut flew forward threatening to send the pitcher with it. When she was done, her gut would bounce up and down and jiggle like jello until it finally set itself back into place. Then she would need to take a few breaths to steady herself before throwing again.

Of course, just like the other women, her thighs got the thickening treatment, and as she stood there on the mound they pressed themselves together. The cellulite could even be seen threw her pants because the fabric was stretched out enough by her flabby flesh to reveal the cottage cheese-like consistency underneath. Her breasts got bigger and developed quite a bit of give. They swung around along with her big buttery belly. Behind her, she had a blubber butt with two soft cheeks the size of beach balls that had ballooned outward. The two bloated butt cheeks bounced up and down with every step she took back and forth from the pitcher’s mound. Her fleshy mounds were redundantly flabby and yet she still seemed to pack plenty of power behind her pitches, despite her massive behind. It was like she was really throwing her weight around. At first, Asami thought this might be a problem, but then she decided that it would at least make things more interesting.

She noticed the sweat breaking on the now fat pitcher’s brow already and realized that while she might have a lot of power behind her throws the extra blubber had decidedly robbed her of some endurance. The sight of the powerful but fat and easily winded pitcher made Asami chuckle.

The plump pitcher was a woman in complete control, a fierce if fat warrior, proud and confident, and Asami enjoyed it as much as the pitcher did.

Then she heard the sound of snickering nearby, and that changed Asami’s mood completely. Before she even turned to see who it was, she was already clutching her notebook in preparation of punishment.

She recognized the trio involved in the altercation immediately. Asami had known them all when she was a college senior and they were just college freshmen. Now they were college seniors, but their dynamic still played out the same way. The poor overweight woman getting bullied and laughed at was the team’s equipment manager, Emily. And the two main culprits were the captain of the softball team and a stereotypical campus queen named Katie and her ever present and also extremely athletic sidekick and best friend, Taylor. 

Emily was a dumpy girl, a sad sack of a fat woman with a jelly belly that did not jiggle with joy. It hung around lazily over the waistband of her pants and was a sad saggy mess just like the rest of her. She had puppy fat boobs, breasts that were technically large but mostly saggy, so saggy that they seemed small especially when compared to the girth of her gut and the size of the rest of her fat body. 

Her ass was big but disappointingly flat. Just like her breasts, it had plenty of size but lacked shape. Her chunky cheeks just sagged uselessly onto the back of her fat thunder thighs, thick flabby legs that rubbed together and forced her to waddle. 

Taylor and Katie were the complete opposite. 

Taylor was a blonde bombshell, a statuesque blonde who could have just as easily played volleyball or strut her sexy body down a runway as a bikini model if she wasn’t such a gifted softball player. Her long, toned and powerful legs made her fast in the field and around the bases. She was a great contact hitter who played solid defense.

And she loved to show off her body. If the league would allow her to play in nothing but a sports bra, she would. Taylor loved having people look at and admire her body. She loved making people jealous, mostly by showing off her perfect abs. She was out of pretty much everyone’s league and she was proud of pointing that out.

But Katie was even worse.

Katie was a babe, not short but shorter than Taylor. And whereas Taylor was more of an hourglass, Katie had an extreme pride in the thickness but also perfect muscular shape of her thighs. Katie was a short haired brunette with bright blue eyes who loved to squat. Her thighs were thick but nodded with muscle and the amount of weight that she could squat was impressive. Even more impressive was the big round shapely ass that she earned from all the hours she spent squatting all that weight. Yes. Katie was a perfect softball girl with an ass that she loved to show off.

Tight outfits were Katie’s favorite. She loved anything that hugged her curves and frequently showed off her shapely butt in dresses that were cut short to equally luscious thighs. She was proud of their tone so short dresses or extremely tight thighs were her preferences. Katie loved the way her ass drew stares from others. She loved knowing that plenty of people turned their heads away from their partners and toward her whenever she walked passed. She could have anyone she wanted at any time, and she loved making sure everyone knew that.

She also hated fat girls.

Katie was a gym rat, an athlete who hadn’t just lucked into a genetic lottery. She had earned her curves with dedication and hours of hard work. She was in complete control of everything in her life, and she found fat people to be stupid and lazy. In her mind, fat people were simply weak and greedy and lacked the control that she had. That’s why she was so hot and they were so fat.

Control. Katie loved being in control, of herself and of others. She was the captain of the team. She commanded loyalty from even her hottest friends like Taylor, and most of all, she loved being in control of fat losers like Emily the equipment manager. Katie had in fact been bullying Emily since high school, and she had never grown tired of it. She couldn’t help herself. Emily was just such a big, soft target who was so fun to poke, often quite literally. Katie was the strongest on the team which of course made her world’s stronger than Emily who she liked to remind of her place by literally shoving around. And Emily was into it. Katie was very good at playing the bully.

“Fat ass!” 

Emily’s entire body shook. She had to admit that there was something about being touched by Katie, even like this that thrilled her. Her fat jiggled from the force of Katie’s shove, she didn’t even have anywhere to go as the shove pushed her right back into Taylor who proceeded to grab her meaty love handles and pinch them hard. As she heard Taylor's words, she was caught up in a mix of intoxicating humiliation.

“Jelly belly!”

As an outside observer, it was enough to make Asami’s blood boil, and she knew she had to do something about it, but first she was going to watch the rest of this confrontation play out.

Then she would make them ridiculously fat.

Emily tried to pull away from Taylor, but that just meant that Emily was once again bumping into Katie who reached down to grab the lowest part of Emily’s belly and heaved it up and down like she was doing bicep curls.

“At least you’re good for my own workouts even if you can’t be bother to do any of your own, Fatso.”

Taylor laughed in response and gave Emily a hard spank to her fat ass that made her yelp.

“I don’t think even you can squat this fatty, Katie.”

Katie let go of Emily’s blubber belly and watched it continue to bounce as her judgmental eyes scanned Emily up and down and did some quick math.

“I can squat pretty much anything, even this chunker if you just got her up onto the rack first. But I don’t think she can do much climbing with these tree trunk-like thunder thighs of hers.”

Taylor pressed her firm body against Emily’s fat back not with any kind of intent but purely because Emily had ended up backing into her, and she used Emily's body to slide herself forward. The slim and sexy blonde spun around in front of Emily to fully showcase her hot body and ended up in a pose bent over with her hands on her knees and with her arms pushing up her impressive boobs to make for a canyon of cleavage thanks to the tasteful unbuttoning of the top button of her jersey, all in the name of making Emily jealous. Then her eyes joined Katie’s in scanning Emily up and down with judgment and scorn.

“She’s so fat and disgusting. She doesn’t even have great tits. What a shame, a big fat shame.”

Katie drove her finger into Emily’s belly fat, intent on making her squeal like a pig.

“Come on, Fatty. Admit it. Admit how pathetic you are.”

“I-I….”

Emily was already near tears, and Katie found that positively delicious.

“You’re pathetic. You’re fat and pathetic. You’re a big blubbery baby, a fat loser. You’re a soft, flabby weakling, not strong, like us.”

“Look at this muscle. See that? That’s why we’ve got everyone looking at us, admiring us as we kick ass on the ballfield and look good doing it. And your fat ass is why you’re still just the loser equipment manager playing hanger on to people like us. And that’s all you’ll ever be.”

Of course, Taylor couldn’t let Katie have all of the fun.

“Yeah. That’s like your entire future, waddling around serving other people, hotter people, better people.”

Katie gave Emily’s shoulder a shove which once again made Emily’s entire body quiver.

“Like us. Your fat body is built for serving people like us, people like me especially. You'll work for people like me, hotties. That’s why I’m so dominant especially compared to your piggy ass. You’re just so much less than we are, less beautiful, less talented, less of everything. The only thing you’ve got more of is weight, much more weight.”

At this point, Taylor really decided to get into her hype girl role, and her and Katie went rapid fire.

“Tell her tubby ass.”

“So much more than tubby.”

“Well, tell her anyway.”

“You’re a pig.”

“Oink. Oink,” snorted Taylor.

“A cow.”

“Moooooo,” cried Taylor with her hands enthusiastically cupped 

“A whale.”

“Awoo… I’m not very good at doing a whale.”

“It doesn’t matter. She gets it,” responded Katie before slowly turning back toward with a wide grin on her face and a finger aimed toward Emily’s gut.

“You’re a fat loser, and you’re always going to be a fat loser, piggy.”

Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke.

And then…

That’s when Emily had enough.

She wiped the tears from her chubby cheeks which were still red but now just with anger. It was a difficult balance, enjoying and wanting this kind of treatment while also dealing with its natural consequences. But she was going to enjoy getting a bit of her own back. She looked Katie dead in the eyes, and poked her in her rock hard stomach as she delivered a powerful premonition, a portent of pounds to come.

“You’re going to get fat, Katie. I’m warning you. That’s your future, your big fat future.”

The words were said so confidently from the previously mousey fat girl, that Katie couldn’t help but be stunned. There was a fluttering in her stomach as well, something that she hadn't thought would happen, but she could feel it welling up, and it was a feeling that she wanted more of. And in that stunned silence, Emily found even more confidence which drove her to continue.

“You and your slim thicc thighs are going to change, Katie. Mark my words. One of these days, when your metabolism gives out, and your appetite keeps going, the pounds are going to pile on. You can’t keep playing softball forever, and when your playing days are over but you keep eating like an athlete, you’re just going to be soft. You’re going to learn what it’s like to get tubby, to feel your muscles relax into soft buttery fat, to feel yourself letting go and growing fatter, weaker, pathetic.”

Katie could feel Emily’s fat finger poking against hard muscle, but she could also imagine that muscle melting away. She could practically feel it now, giving out and turning into thick fat, slumping forward and rolling over her waistband, turning into a tubby tummy. The thought made her eyes go wide.

And Emily pounced on that fear.

“Tubby? That will just be the start of things. People won’t settle on calling you tubby for long, Katie. You’ll pass the pudgy face real quick and slip right into piggishness. Yeah. You, Katie. You’re going to be a pig, even bigger. Maybe they’ll call you Katie the Cow. I’m sure you’ll be having real fun then, with your tubby thunder thighs slapping together and your big squishy gut flopping about, fat smacking against fat as you try to run like you used to and your gut fat slapping against the fat of your thighs. You’re going to be a pathetic winded pig, a hopeless hog trying to cling to her glory days but too driven by your greedy gut to keep stuffing your fat face to ever go back.”

Emily was really rolling now, poking and pinching Katie. There was no fat to be had on Katie’s extremely athletic form, but didn’t stop her mind from running wild. She could picture herself blowing up like a balloon filled with fat. Her athletic thighs shook, and yet she could feel thigh fat quivering. The truth was she could see it all, see herself becoming an absolutely obese hog lazing about and eating. She was out of breath just thinking about it all, taken aback by how dizzying it all was. 

And Emily could see it all too. 

“You’re going to be double fisting chilly dogs and farting up a storm, dropping real loud bombs with lots of resonance because of the size of your big fat flabby ass. Yeah. You’re going have some real big soft chonky cheeks, chubs. You’re going to be a hefty heavy with a big blubber butt that quakes just like your blubber belly. Imagine those bloated ass cheeks bobbing up and down and slapping onto the backs of your flabby thunder thighs. Belly. Butt. Belly. Butt. Boy, your thighs are really going to be feeling it with all that fat slapping against them as you try to waddle about. You’re going to look so stupid, so sad as the pathetic former athlete who let herself go, who turned into a big fat whale, into everything she used to hate and make fun of.”

In Katie’s ears rang the imagined laughter of every person she ever made fun of now staring at her fat ass and shouting insults at her. She could sense them all lined up for their revenge and calling her every name in the book, piggy, cow, whale. She could picture herself trying to cover up her fat body with her fat arms, but she could feel all the fat oozing out of her clothes, bursting forth and making itself known. There was no hiding from her fat and the laughter that it drew. 

Emily’s laughter cut the deepest as she continued her mad attack on Katie’s figure and future. 

“Katie the magnificent athlete, the girl that everyone else is jealous of will be no more. You’ll just be another bloated sow, with a big gut, thunder thighs, a fat ass and so much more. You’re gonna have big fat flabby arms with juicy jiggly bingo wings, saggy breasts that are nothing compared to your spare tire. And you’re going to have a big fat round stupid face with puffy cheeks, jiggly jowls, and a nice thick doughy double chin just drooping down and covering your fat neck. You’re going to look like a total pig, act like a total pig, even smell like a total pig. You’re going to be a big, fat, stupid, lazy, greedy hog. That’s your future, Katie. That’s your future.”

Katie, eyes wide with fear and hands pressed against her midsection, was too stunned to speak. Even Taylor was so shocked by this outburst of courage from fat little Emily that there were no words she could muster. 

Emily, frothing like an angry bulldog, growled and grinned. 

“Scared? Good. You should be. Because you know I’m right. You know you’ve got future fatty written all over you, and then I’ll be the one laughing at you. I’ll be the one enjoying your downfall, cracking jokes, poking your big fat belly. And you’re going to be such a pathetic fatty.”

Emily learned in and whispered in Katie's ear.

"And you're going to love it, aren't you? You want it. Don't you?"

"I-I..... I do."

Katie had whispered it. But she couldn't deny it. There was something about what Emily had described, and the way that she described it that made her want it all so badly.

And with that said, Emily turned on as much of a dime as her chunky body could manage, shook her fat ass tauntingly in Katie’s direction, as if to give her a glimpse of her future, and went back to making sure all of the equipment was in order and ready to go. 

Katie stood there for a long time, her mouth agape. For a moment, with her mouth open wide, it was as if she could feel a doughy double chin creased underneath it. 

Then she shook her head and pulled herself back to reality as she felt Taylor’s hand on her shoulder. 

“Damn, that fatty is psycho,” said Taylor in her best attempt at being comforting. 

“Y-yeah…” replied Katie with her hands still tracing the toned muscles of her abdomen but imagining a much spongier, pot belly. 

“We’re super hot, and she’s a fat pig who’s super jealous.”

“You’re right,” Katie said with a nod as her confidence returned. 

“Like I said, she’s a pig. Oink. Oink.”

“Oink. Oink.”

“Now get your head in the game and let’s play ball.”

“Hell yeah.”

As the two walked off to get ready for the game, Asami looked back over to Emily who was still checking the equipment. As Emily’s adrenaline wore off, the fat girl began to shake.

She could hear Emily.

"I just wish things were different. I wish I was different. I wish my body was more beautiful, even if it has to be bigger," Emily said.

Asami admired her boldness, and she desired to help Emily out. With a few strokes of her in her notebook, Emily began to change. 

The fat girl got fatter. 

But in doing so, her hips widened in a tantalizing manner, and while her butt got even bigger it gained a lot more shape to it with her chunky cheeks becoming two luscious overblown bubbles. And while the rounding of her rear end was substantial, what really took the cake (something quite considerable given the amount of cake down below) was the growth of her previously pitiable breasts. 

Emily’s breasts surged forward with new gravity defying girth. Her bosom blossomed into an impressive chest full of heft that bounced and swayed with every motion of her exaggerated hourglass body. She was more than just the growth of her impressive breasts with a canyon of cleavage spilling out of a shirt that was now too small and with its top two buttons thoroughly busted; Emily had clearly grown in confidence, evident by each sultry step as she waddled toward the dugout. 

Of course, Asami was far from done. Next she thought about Katie and Taylor, those two ultra arrogant athletic assholes. Those vain, sexy vixens need to be taken down a few pegs, brought low and humiliated. 

She’d warmup by fattening Taylor, turning her into a pig. Given the way she liked to oink at fat girls so much, Asami figured it would be fitting to put her on the receiving end of such humiliation. 

But her mouth practically watered when she thought about what she was going to do to Katie, strong, powerful, athletic show off, Katie. She planned on taking the dominant queen bee and turning her into a humble and humiliated hog. 

It was time to make Emily’s predictions about Katie’s future into a much more present reality.

"The Fat Making Notebook Goes Out to the Ball Game" Part 1

Unfortunately, I don't have a joke about torpedo bats in this story yet. Fortunately, here is all of part one which is over 3,600 words. And part 2 (which is over 3,500 words) is already available on Discord for 7 dollar Even More BS members and will be coming here soon. There are also going to be four parts to the story total with the fourth part being a PATREON EXCLUSIVE epilogue story.

For now....

Enjoy!

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

Ball games are great for eating hotdogs and making people fat. 

At least, that was Asami’s opinion. And it was a lovely day to take her Fat Making Notebook on a stroll back across her old college campus to take in a softball game and create some chaos. 

Athletes can be just so damn stuck up, so sure of themselves and their physical abilities. She was definitely looking forward to humbling a few of them. Maybe she would put some pounds on a pitcher, chunk up a catcher. She could just picture the softball team, plenty of lovely ladies with already luscious curves feeling their pants getting tighter as their thick thighs grew thicker. She looked forward to giving some ball players ball bellies and making some arrogant athletes into helplessly hungry hogs.

Of course, getting to the field meant getting across campus first, and on this particularly beautiful day, that meant passing plenty of beauties ready to be a bit more bountiful. 

The first victim that Asami found worthy of transforming, a rather haughty looking blonde woman with a confident strut that Asami found to be just a bit too arrogant, got her usual warm up transformation, a nice big blubbery belly. The woman was wearing a crop top to showcase the toned nature of her trim tummy, but that tummy soon became quite tubby, and the belly baring shirt became the perfect way to showcase the now blubbery blonde’s new pudgy pot belly. Her growing gut bounced out in front of her and sloshed up and down with each step. Those steps were now far more laborious as Asami took away the woman’s confident strut by way of thickening her thighs enough to give her a much more awkward waddle.

Those thighs, once toned, were now beyond tubby. They were thick thunder thighs made of fat that shook, slapped, and rubbed together with each slow step. It was a rather comical thing as Asami had kept most of the blonde’s upper body the same, almost as a way of showing off just how unearned her perceived previous vanity was. She retained her narrow face most of her upper body, though slightly softened, remained trim. Then she absolutely exploded with fat from the belly downward. While her gut and her thunder thighs were the real highlights, there was no denying that this randomly chosen blonde victim now had an incredibly fat and flabby ass as well, a doughy dumper gifted with a supreme amount of sway. Her blubbery butt cheeks bounced up and down and side to side as she clearly began to become winded from her waddling.

Asami chuckled to herself as she watched the blonde who once looked like she could have run a marathon had to stop to catch her breath. The blonde’s big belly plopped onto the tops of her thick thighs as she doubled over. Her hands sunk into the soft flesh of her flabby thunder thighs as she took a few labored breaths and then really had to push herself to get going again. Thanks to the now extremely tight, fit almost to bursting, Asami got to enjoy the way the blonde’s fat legs had developed swollen cankles, fat ankles and calves that were made even more swollen by the exertion she was experiencing.

The fact that this blonde was reduced to huffing and puffing was a great source of amusement to Asami who knew that the previously fit woman would now be stuck as a shuffling fatty probably posting well positioned photos of herself in a vain attempt to disguise just how big and blubbery she actually was. Her corpulent caboose, tree trunk like thighs and blubbery belly would certainly end up being quite the surprise to some people and probably cause her to face lots of painful and humiliating rejection.

“Good,” thought Asami. People like that, vain fit women, deserved to be humbled and learn what it’s like to be made fun of for being bigger, to experience what Asami had experienced for so much of her life.

Asami craved more justice, and she soon found it.

There was a redhead sitting lying in a beach chair on one of the campus lawns in just a bikini and clearly trying to attract the attention of passersby as she worked on tanning her gorgeous slim and toned figure. This would have been bad enough, and made her worthy of judgment in Asami’s eyes, but then Asami watched the fit redhead lower her sunglasses to sneer at some chubby chicks that were walking by, and that judgmental sneer on her face made it clear to Asami that it was time for the redhead to be far more robust.

Pounds were about to pile on.

With the help of the notebook, Asami turned the sunbathing beauty into a beached whale. The redhead grew round with fat very quickly. Her trim waist exploded with huge love handles, and her body grew so rapidly wide with fat that her blubber soon had her wedged in her beach chair. She grew a belly so big and blubbery that it sagged and spilled down onto her fat lap even while she was mostly reclined. Her ass grew extra fat as well and was covered with cellulite. It would have lifted her out of the chair quite a bit, but the width of it instead contributed to getting her stuck in it instead. The redhead’s thighs grew nice and thick and covered with cellulite as well. They pressed together and pushed each other as far out as the chair would allow. Her thunder thighs gave her a gloriously fat lap which her belly continued to roll across as she grew larger and larger.

Eventually, the chair could take no more, and the legs gave way. This caused her obese body to crash to the grass with a thud that sent all of her fat quivering, at least the fat that wasn’t duly pinned to the arms of the chair which were still holding strong to her sides though the were decidedly bent. Her own flabby arms flapped uselessly as she tried to get her fat body up but was instead stuck to the ground like a turned over turtle.

Presumably some good samaritan would come along and help her up already, but until then the redhead was stuck rocking back and forth in her karmic humiliation, fat body undulating as she tried and failed to get her fat body up under her own power.

Asami found it quite amusing.

The next two people that Asami judged to be vain and worthy of fattening were a pair of ladies on roller skates. Their crime? They had the gall to flaunt their athletic bodies in nothing more than booty shorts and sports bras as they glided across campus.

Asami made sure that their gliding was a lot slower and more awkward by giving them big bloated bellies that sloshed about as they skated. Their sagging guts were paired with bloated butts that served as weighty anchors, spilling out of their shorts and slowing them down considerably. But what really slowed them down the most wasn’t their blubber butts. It was their new thunder thighs.

It’s really hard to waddle while on skates, but these two formerly lithe babes were managing to do just that as their thick thighs rubbed together and greatly hindered their movement. Their fat flesh was fully on display as their outfits did not change, and so their fat flabby bodies were seen by all. Nothing was hidden. Their fat flab flapped about in the breeze as they wheezed and wheeled about fighting not to fall down and humiliate themselves further.

The two women who once attracted admiring gazes now drew scornful looks and snickers as they rolled by. Sometimes, the kinder people would whisper things like “Well at least they’re being active,” but that was currently the best they could hope for, and Asami found that most amusing.

Of course, those who had the nastiest words to share soon found their own formerly slim waistlines significantly softened. One particularly bitchy brunette who commented on how the fattened roller skaters looked pregnant found herself with an enormous food baby, a brand new pot belly that stretched her shirt out significantly and would embarrassingly draw lots of comments and plenty of hands looking to rub her “pregnant” belly only to humiliate her with the realization that it was all just fat, rich, buttery belly fat.

A pair of catty women found themselves with noticeably bloated blubber butts and pants that would no longer button along with appetites to ensure their future obesity. And Asami even took a person who was rattling off joke after joke and made it so that every joke she made at another person’s expense would add pounds to herself as punishment. She was certain to be waddling in no time, not that Asami had the time to find out. She had a softball game to attend to and far more people to transform.

And while Asami enjoyed giving trim women tubby bellies, she never quite found that to be enough and was looking to be a bit more expansive.

For her next real bit of fun, Asami decided to be a bit more benevolent. Asami overheard what was clearly a sorority sister making fun of a would-be pledge for her lack of curves. The specific phrase “member of the itty-bitty titty committee” was thrown around, and that was the straw the broke the camel’s back (a back that was growing more and more fragile these days), and Asami, in her never ending quest for justice decided that she would help the poor pledge out.

She made the mousy woman decidedly chubby. After all, she was not in the business of keeping people slim. However, she did use the notebook to gift this woman with outrageous curves and turned her into a bombshell with big breasts, an even bigger butt, and just enough of a belly to keep her a little self-conscious and keep her vanity in check. Her breasts were made incredibly large, far larger than the breasts of the woman who had been making fun of her and could now only stare her the formerly flat woman’s mighty bosom with extreme jealousy.

The woman’s new bigger breasts burst the top button of her polo shirt and pushed outward providing a view of some very tantalizing cleavage. The woman’s once narrow hips widened and stretched her jeans to their limit, and her bigger butt threatened to cause them to burst. She also grew a cute little pot belly with some matching love handles. The pairing of these things cause her polo shirt to ride up and reveal a delightful muffin top.

The woman who was her bully was not nearly as lucky.

The vain bully found her belly expanding. Her flat stomach filled with fat and pushed outward. Her belly bubbled and bounced and surged forward until it was far past her breasts, and it would have created the illusion that she was pregnant if it wasn’t for the amount of sag that it had. Her flabby gut burst the button on her pants and rolled over her waistband as it spilled out from under her shirt and announced itself to the world. Her gut grew bigger still as it hung lower like a sack of fat onto thighs that also grew noticeably thicker.

Her thighs became full of thunder as the fat filled them, and thanks to the shorts that she was wearing it was clear to see all of the cellulite that now covered them. Her trim thighs became thick with fat that slapped and rubbed together thereby gifting her with a brand new waddle of replace her normal walking. The beyond pudgy pig of a woman would now feel rather ponderous as she struggled to move from place to place. Her thighs were now ridiculously soft with buttery fat and threatened to become quivering messes with even the slightest bit of movement.

This quivering was matched by her ass which lost all of its tone and became two butt cheeks filled with pillowy fat that puffed up and then sagged downward onto the back of her thunder thighs. Her shorts were ill equipped for this much blubber which now spilled over the top- giving her a distinct plumber’s crack even when standing- and oozed out the bottom revealing more of her chunky cellulite covered cheeks to the world at large. She had a large ass indeed, but it was also broken down and saggy and not nearly as attractive as it could have been had it at least held its shape while inflating. 

The rest of her lower half had inflated as well. It wasn’t just her ass and thighs that packed on the pounds. Even her calves and ankles swelled up into thick cankles. And her feet grew bloated as well. Her sandals clearly revealed the now sausage-like qualities of her toes which had grown quite plump along with the rest of her. 

Plump was also a perfect way to describe her arms which were now far tubbier than the toned limbs she once possessed. Her thicker arms now featured flabby bingo wings which were shaking even as she stood there. The woman had grown so large and soft that the mere acting of breathing (something that on its own took a good deal more effort than it used to) caused her jumbo body to jiggle. Her belly and love handles bounced, and as her sides spread out with each breath, this caused her blubbery arms to bounce about as well. Overall, she was just a great big jiggly mess. 

Her jiggly bits included her new jowls which were thanks to her now chubby cheeks. Those jowls were paired with a low hanging, doughy double chin that also had a propensity for bouncing. The fat that filled her face made it quite a bit rounded and quite a bit duller looking. She lacked the signs of confidence and cunning that were once her signature. Now she looked greedy and piggish. It was the perfect reflection of who she had been on the inside. 

The breasts that she had been proud of grew as well, but only slightly. Instead of gaining a lot more mass, Asami had ensured that they gained a lot more softness and sag, and so they were now dwarfed by the sheer amount of blubber that encompassed the rest of her.

Now that the scales were judiciously rebalanced and Asami could see the judgmental looks that the chubby bombshell was giving her formerly fit bully turned to fabulously fat punching bag, Asami eagerly moved on and continued to look for new people to change on her way to the softball game.

By the time Asami reached the field, and after already adjusting the weights of a few more vain passersby, she was quite hungry and quickly made her way over to the concession stand. Her stomach was rumbling with hunger, so it didn’t take much to make her annoyed, and a slender woman holding up the front of the line did just that.

While Asami was waiting with patience that was wearing thinner by the moment, this petite woman was staring at the menu still undecided about what to eat and was instead openly, and loudly, complaining about how fattening everything was. She was midway through an extensive rant about the sugar content of the stand’s numerous dessert offerings when Asami decided that she had had enough and opened her notebook.

“This petite bitch is now a real pig, a greedy chunker with a huge sweet tooth and a gluttonous gut to match.”

Just like that, the previously petite woman grew into a proper porker. Her belly ballooned into a chubby gut that pressed against the counter. It was a big blubbery pot belly that immediately gave her a rather tubby appearance as it spilled out from under her shirt. That tubbiness was further aided by the growth of her globular butt cheeks which ballooned out behind her. They grew large and round and incredibly soft, and as they popped out of the bottom of her shorts, the cellulite that covered them was clearly visible. Her petite frame made it much easier for her to end up looking like a big ball of fat as her breasts and belly grew out in one direction and her blubber butt billowed outward in the other. 

Of course, those weren’t the only parts of her body that filled with fat. Her thighs grew thick and meaty. They transformed into slabs of fat that slapped together. And her arms grew thick and flabby as well. As she cradled an array of snacks in her fat arms, snacks that now included a huge banana split supreme sundae loaded with four scoops of ice cream and all the toppings the stand had to offer, her flabby bingo wings quivered. 

Her thighs quaked as she swung her chunky body around and waddled over to the nearest picnic table to gorge herself on snacks. The ice cream made a particular mess as she went about her pig out session. It was like she was inhaling the food that was in front of her, alternating between hot and cold bites but decidedly favoring the ice cream. She crunched on chips and chowed down on chili cheese dogs, but she always kept coming back to that big bow of deliciously fattening ice cream. She stuffed her chubby cheeks with sugary goodness, absolutely crammed them full of ice cream and was left with a satisfied look on a fat face that was covered in whipped cream and syrup that ran down and filled the crevice made by the crease of her doughy double chin.

She was one happy hog. 

After making a petite pig, Asami got her own snacks, a hotdog with mustard and ketchup, a bag of potato chips, and a large soda. That’s when she heard two hot girls snickering behind her. Obviously, this was another thing that set Asami off, and she waddled to the nearest table to set down her snacks and open up her notebook once again.

“These two are professional eaters. They’re still show offs, but now they specialize in showing off their gluttony and their obesity, and they’re going to show off to everyone right now with a very fattening hotdog eating contest. They’re going to stuff their faces, eating like big fat piggies.”

The ladies had already grown quite large by the time they got to the picnic table with their trays piled high with hotdogs. Their jeans were stretched out by their widened hips as they waddled from the concession stand to the table, and their big bellies bulged out in front of them bursting the buttons on their pants. The flaps of those pants now hung uselessly, but were largely obscured by the guts that replaced the ladies’ previously trim tummies.

Both women had been curvy but still clearly very fit, but by the time they settled their fat butts onto the picnic bench to begin their feast, they were both bordering on obesity. A crowd began to gather around them. Once these people would have been admirers of their beauty, enamored or jealous of their fit figures. But now they were a crowd of gawking spectators eager to watch these two fatties stuff themselves silly with food for their own amusement.

And stuff themselves they did.

The two ladies who once could have been athletes attacked the hotdogs with athletic determination, tearing into them and stuffing them down their throats with barely a moment's pause. Hotdogs vanished one after another, and as those hotdogs disappeared, new pounds appeared on the once slim vixens. Their bellies grew bigger and their blubber pressed against the table. Their butts grew rounder and wider, pushing them up from their seats and pushing their fat bodies toward each other. Their hips grew wider and their thighs grew thicker, and, soon enough, both women were taking up the entire of the picnic bench that they were sitting on, scarfing down hotdogs as their fat bodies pressed together. Their meaty love handles practically stuck together thanks to the sweat that they produced from the exertion of eating so much so fast.

Once pristine women were now going whole hog and making a mess of themselves with ketchup and mustard that smeared across their fat faces and spilled onto their bouncing cleavage and stretched out shirts. Their clothing took on the look of a Jackson Pollock painting as they kept cramming processed meat into their greedy mouths. They were an immense spectacle the likes of which they previously would have gawked at, but now they had no choice but to keep showing off their gluttony for the people they once looked down upon.

The crowd roared, mostly with approval, but there was also plenty of jeering, judging, snide comments and a variety of animal noises. People were not afraid to oink and moo at the two gluttonous girls with their greedy guts seemingly never satisfied. And the two fatties just responded by eating more and more until one of them eventually doubled over with indigestion and the other raised her arms, flabby bingo wings flapping in victory.

Both women were now obese blobs of fat, trapped like this forever and destined to continue squaring off against each other and trading victories in various eating contests for the rest of their lives all for the amusement of others.

For Asami, she knew that this was some of her finest work, but that the best was yet to come. 

There was still the softball game itself.

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

If you've enjoyed this story so far, part two is already up on my Discord for Even More BS members. You can upgrade your membership HERE.

FIRST LOOK: "The Fat Making Notebook Goes Out to the Ball Game"

"The Fat Making Notebook Goes Out to the Ball Game" is coming soon. Part 1 (over 3,600 words) is available on my Discord for Even More BS members right now.

Here's a first look:

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

Ball games are great for eating hotdogs and making people fat. 

At least, that was Asami’s opinion. And it was a lovely day to take her Fat Making Notebook on a stroll back across her old college campus to take in a softball game and create some chaos. 

Athletes can be just so damn stuck up, so sure of themselves and their physical abilities. She was definitely looking forward to humbling a few of them. Maybe she would put some pounds on a pitcher, chunk up a catcher. She could just picture the softball team, plenty of lovely ladies with already luscious curves feeling their pants getting tighter as their thick thighs grew thicker. She looked forward to giving some ball players ball bellies and making some arrogant athletes into helplessly hungry hogs.

Of course, getting to the field meant getting across campus first, and on this particularly beautiful day, that meant passing plenty of beauties ready to be a bit more bountiful.

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

Want so much more?

You can read a FREE teaser HERE.

Paid members read an extended teaser HERE.

7 Dollar Even More BS members can read and download the entirety of part 1 on my Discord server right NOW.

Join or upgrade your membership HERE.

EXTENDED TEASER: "The Fat Making Notebook Goes Out to the Ball Game"

I am hard at work on the next chapter in "The Fat Making Notebook" saga called "The Fat Making Notebook Goes Out to the Ball Game". It's all coming to Patreon,but if you don't want to wait you can read all of Part 1 on Discord right now if you're a 7 dollar Even More BS member. You can upgrade your membership HERE.

And if you don't want to do that, you can still read this extended teaser of Part 1 which is over 3,600 words.

Enjoy!

-------

Ball games are great for eating hotdogs and making people fat. 

At least, that was Asami’s opinion. And it was a lovely day to take her Fat Making Notebook on a stroll back across her old college campus to take in a softball game and create some chaos. 

Athletes can be just so damn stuck up, so sure of themselves and their physical abilities. She was definitely looking forward to humbling a few of them. Maybe she would put some pounds on a pitcher, chunk up a catcher. She could just picture the softball team, plenty of lovely ladies with already luscious curves feeling their pants getting tighter as their thick thighs grew thicker. She looked forward to giving some ball players ball bellies and making some arrogant athletes into helplessly hungry hogs.

Of course, getting to the field meant getting across campus first, and on this particularly beautiful day, that meant passing plenty of beauties ready to be a bit more bountiful. 

The first victim that Asami found worthy of transforming, a rather haughty looking blonde woman with a confident strut that Asami found to be just a bit too arrogant, got her usual warm up transformation, a nice big blubbery belly. The woman was wearing a crop top to showcase the toned nature of her trim tummy, but that tummy soon became quite tubby, and the belly baring shirt became the perfect way to showcase the now blubbery blonde’s new pudgy pot belly. Her growing gut bounced out in front of her and sloshed up and down with each step. Those steps were now far more laborious as Asami took away the woman’s confident strut by way of thickening her thighs enough to give her a much more awkward waddle.

Those thighs, once toned, were now beyond tubby. They were thick thunder thighs made of fat that shook, slapped, and rubbed together with each slow step. It was a rather comical thing as Asami had kept most of the blonde’s upper body the same, almost as a way of showing off just how unearned her perceived previous vanity was. She retained her narrow face most of her upper body, though slightly softened, remained trim. Then she absolutely exploded with fat from the belly downward. While her gut and her thunder thighs were the real highlights, there was no denying that this randomly chosen blonde victim now had an incredibly fat and flabby ass as well, a doughy dumper gifted with a supreme amount of sway. Her blubbery butt cheeks bounced up and down and side to side as she clearly began to become winded from her waddling.

Asami chuckled to herself as she watched the blonde who once looked like she could have run a marathon had to stop to catch her breath. The blonde’s big belly plopped onto the tops of her thick thighs as she doubled over. Her hands sunk into the soft flesh of her flabby thunder thighs as she took a few labored breaths and then really had to push herself to get going again. Thanks to the now extremely tight, fit almost to bursting, Asami got to enjoy the way the blonde’s fat legs had developed swollen cankles, fat ankles and calves that were made even more swollen by the exertion she was experiencing.

The fact that this blonde was reduced to huffing and puffing was a great source of amusement to Asami who knew that the previously fit woman would now be stuck as a shuffling fatty probably posting well positioned photos of herself in a vain attempt to disguise just how big and blubbery she actually was. Her corpulent caboose, tree trunk like thighs and blubbery belly would certainly end up being quite the surprise to some people and probably cause her to face lots of painful and humiliating rejection.

“Good,” thought Asami. People like that, vain fit women, deserved to be humbled and learn what it’s like to be made fun of for being bigger, to experience what Asami had experienced for so much of her life.

Asami craved more justice, and she soon found it.

There was a redhead sitting lying in a beach chair on one of the campus lawns in just a bikini and clearly trying to attract the attention of passersby as she worked on tanning her gorgeous slim and toned figure. This would have been bad enough, and made her worthy of judgment in Asami’s eyes, but then Asami watched the fit redhead lower her sunglasses to sneer at some chubby chicks that were walking by, and that judgmental sneer on her face made it clear to Asami that it was time for the redhead to be far more robust.

Pounds were about to pile on.

With the help of the notebook, Asami turned the sunbathing beauty into a beached whale. The redhead grew round with fat very quickly. Her trim waist exploded with huge love handles, and her body grew so rapidly wide with fat that her blubber soon had her wedged in her beach chair. She grew a belly so big and blubbery that it sagged and spilled down onto her fat lap even while she was mostly reclined. Her ass grew extra fat as well and was covered with cellulite. It would have lifted her out of the chair quite a bit, but the width of it instead contributed to getting her stuck in it instead. The redhead’s thighs grew nice and thick and covered with cellulite as well. They pressed together and pushed each other as far out as the chair would allow. Her thunder thighs gave her a gloriously fat lap which her belly continued to roll across as she grew larger and larger.

Eventually, the chair could take no more, and the legs gave way. This caused her obese body to crash to the grass with a thud that sent all of her fat quivering, at least the fat that wasn’t duly pinned to the arms of the chair which were still holding strong to her sides though the were decidedly bent. Her own flabby arms flapped uselessly as she tried to get her fat body up but was instead stuck to the ground like a turned over turtle.

Presumably some good samaritan would come along and help her up already, but until then the redhead was stuck rocking back and forth in her karmic humiliation, fat body undulating as she tried and failed to get her fat body up under her own power.

Asami found it quite amusing.

The next two people that Asami judged to be vain and worthy of fattening were a pair of ladies on roller skates. Their crime? They had the gall to flaunt their athletic bodies in nothing more than booty shorts and sports bras as they glided across campus.

Asami made sure that their gliding was a lot slower and more awkward by giving them big bloated bellies that sloshed about as they skated. Their sagging guts were paired with bloated butts that served as weighty anchors, spilling out of their shorts and slowing them down considerably. But what really slowed them down the most wasn’t their blubber butts. It was their new thunder thighs.

It’s really hard to waddle while on skates, but these two formerly lithe babes were managing to do just that as their thick thighs rubbed together and greatly hindered their movement. Their fat flesh was fully on display as their outfits did not change, and so their fat flabby bodies were seen by all. Nothing was hidden. Their fat flab flapped about in the breeze as they wheezed and wheeled about fighting not to fall down and humiliate themselves further.

The two women who once attracted admiring gazes now drew scornful looks and snickers as they rolled by. Sometimes, the kinder people would whisper things like “Well at least they’re being active,” but that was currently the best they could hope for, and Asami found that most amusing.

Of course, those who had the nastiest words to share soon found their own formerly slim waistlines significantly softened. One particularly bitchy brunette who commented on how the fattened roller skaters looked pregnant found herself with an enormous food baby, a brand new pot belly that stretched her shirt out significantly and would embarrassingly draw lots of comments and plenty of hands looking to rub her “pregnant” belly only to humiliate her with the realization that it was all just fat, rich, buttery belly fat.

A pair of catty women found themselves with noticeably bloated blubber butts and pants that would no longer button along with appetites to ensure their future obesity. And Asami even took a person who was rattling off joke after joke and made it so that every joke she made at another person’s expense would add pounds to herself as punishment. She was certain to be waddling in no time, not that Asami had the time to find out. She had a softball game to attend to and far more people to transform.

And while Asami enjoyed giving trim women tubby bellies, she never quite found that to be enough and was looking to be a bit more expansive.

For her next real bit of fun, Asami decided to be a bit more benevolent. Asami overheard what was clearly a sorority sister making fun of a would-be pledge for her lack of curves. The specific phrase “member of the itty-bitty titty committee” was thrown around, and that was the straw the broke the camel’s back (a back that was growing more and more fragile these days), and Asami, in her never ending quest for justice decided that she would help the poor pledge out.

She made the mousy woman decidedly chubby. After all, she was not in the business of keeping people slim. However, she did use the notebook to gift this woman with outrageous curves and turned her into a bombshell with big breasts, an even bigger butt, and just enough of a belly to keep her a little self-conscious and keep her vanity in check. Her breasts were made incredibly large, far larger than the breasts of the woman who had been making fun of her and could now only stare her the formerly flat woman’s mighty bosom with extreme jealousy.

The woman’s new bigger breasts burst the top button of her polo shirt and pushed outward providing a view of some very tantalizing cleavage. The woman’s once narrow hips widened and stretched her jeans to their limit, and her bigger butt threatened to cause them to burst. She also grew a cute little pot belly with some matching love handles. The pairing of these things cause her polo shirt to ride up and reveal a delightful muffin top.

The woman who was her bully was not nearly as lucky.

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"Nightmare Pigs 2" Chapter 3

The Nightmare Witch is back in this new over 4,000 word chapter. Vain slim and sexy Sylvia receives the punishment that she has coming to her.

And things get messy.

Warning, this chapter contains the slob elements that fans of the original "Nightmare Pigs" should be accustomed to. If you don't like slob stuff, this chapter is not for you.

For those of you who do like that stuff and are about to continue reading....

Enjoy!

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

Sylvia was by no means a silver fox. Hell, at only 35 she didn’t even consider herself a cougar. What she was proud to call herself was a woman whom time had not yet touched. 

Plenty of the women that Sylvia knew in their thirties were already pretty paunchy. They had been slim and sexy things when they were spring chickens, but then they hit thirty and things started to sag. Abs turned to flab as metabolisms slowed down and blubber bellies bloomed. Fit friends turned into fatties and it seemed like at every new charity gala or other high society event she went to these days another former hottie had hogged out and was now bursting out of her dress or stuffing herself like a sausage into a brand new girdle. 

If there was sympathy to be had for these formerly slender society women, Sylvia had none. Sylvia had always hated fatties. Ever since she was the queen bee of her high school class, she found fat people to be repulsive. She found them to be greedy, lazy, and generally disgusting. 

But it was the ones who let themselves go later on in life that disgusted her even more. They were the kind of women who used to have it and then were too stupid and lazy and let it slip away. In their weakness, they let themselves become the people they had always made fun of. 

Sylvia swore she would never let herself become one of them. 

Of course, the Nightmare Witch had far different plans. 

Most people are prone to far more fantastical dreams than Sylvia was. Their dreams are often aspirational. They dream of wealth, of power, of glamor, of things they don’t yet have. For Sylvia, her dreams were just replays of her own charmed life.

In the last good dream she ever had, Sylvia was dressed in a stunning gown that hung tightly to her toned body as she glided around the room at a glamorous charity ball effortlessly entertaining her rich snobby friends as they fawned all over her. Sylvia was wrapped in a sensation of warmth as reveled in the admiration and envy of others. The stares, the compliments, the look of envy on faces of all those who knew they would never be able to come close to measuring up with Sylvia filled her with such unbridled joy that in real life the sleeping Sylvia softly moaned to herself.

And then something was wrong.

There was an intruder in their midst.

Sylvia could smell her before she could even see her. And as she turned around, there she was, her big sweaty sow of a niece, Jennifer. Jennifer was a disgusting blob of a woman who looked immediately out of place in this ballroom full of the society types that Jennifer once would have been right at home with. Now, Jennifer was clad in an ill-fitting sweatsuit that allowed her big blubbery belly to roll uselessly over the waistband of her pants as it sagged down toward her knees. Her food and sweat stained shirt rode up to reveal her massive stretch marked muffin top. She was a great big lumbering slob with tree trunk thighs and a tremendous ass the was also barely contained by her dirty sweatpants. Her but was big and blubbery and carried with it a tremendous stench.

What upset Sylvia the most about Jennifer’s presence was that Jennifer used to be so beautiful. She was once bright and full of potential, a slim and sexy vixen with the world as her oyster and she threw it all her way to stuff herself with food and turn into this disgusting hedonistic hog who was waddling around stinky up the place with her piggish presence. Her fat belly was spilling out of her disgusting clothes and pressing against the table as she leaned over her gut to reach forward with her fat, flabby arms and chubby greedy hands to snatch up h'dourves and hork them down like she was at some kind of low budget buffet. She was without class and with lots of gas as her flatulence caused nearby spectators to either run away in disgust or stand there laughing at her, mocking the hopeless pig that the previously prim and proper Jennifer had become.

She was an embarrassment to the family, and Sylvia couldn’t handle it anymore.

Sylvia stalked over and immediately grabbed her piggish niece by her big blubbery belly. She cringed at the feeling of the soft, sweaty, flabby flesh and thought about letting go, but there was a point that needed making. 

And Sylvia was always one to love making a point, especially when that came with the public humiliation of others.

She she plunged her slender hands into the fat of Jennifer’s sloppy stomach, and felt that fat ooze between her fingers as she lifted Jennifer’s apron of a gut up and shook it wildly. Her personal training sessions were clearly working out as Sylvia used her slim but toned arms to heave the hefty spare tire up and down over and over again.

“Look, everyone. Look at my disgusting pig of a niece, this fat bloated sow who has let herself go so completely. It’s important that you all know that we, more sensible and still drop dead gorgeous family members, do not condone this kind of behavior, this hoggishness. She’s a fat disgusting slob, and everyone should be laughing at her. That’s what she deserves. She deserves to be shamed because she should feel ashamed, fat and ashamed. She does not deserve to count herself among us anymore. She is low and dirty, fat and disgusting.”

Sylvia let Jennifer’s gut go and watched it keep jiggling like jello as it settled back into place. Then she began poking and slapping at Jennifer’s flabby arms laughing as her bingo wings wobbled back and forth.

“You really are a pathetic little pig.”

She went right back to poking Jennifer’s blubbery belly, and then Jennifer let out a tremendous fart which caused Sylvia to recoil.

“UGH! A disgusting, stinking pig!”

Sylvia responded with a hard spank to Jennifer’s broad backside which got her butt jiggling about. She spanked her again and again as the people around her laughed.

And then, in counter rhythm to Sylvia’s slaps, a solitary clapping sound cut through the room. 

When Sylvia stopped spanking Jennifer, she looked up to see that all of her friends had stopped moving, even Jennifer’s blubbery butt had stopped moving mid jiggle. There was no laughter then. 

There was only the solitary sound of clapping coming from a lone figure cloaked in shadow with a stretched out smile partially covered by long unruly tendrils of deep purple hair. 

Her elongated hands kept the clap going as Scarlet floated across the room, and a chill ran up Sylvia’s spine. 

“Well done, Sylvia. You certainly do know how to put on a show, really entertain this crowd as it were. I would even say you have them eating out of the palm of your hand.”

Sylvia felt her stomach rumble, and she could stop her gaze from momentarily drifting toward the food.

“Now, I think you’ll get to experience what it’s like to just be eating.”

A tendril of Scarlet’s long purple hair gently ran itself down Sylvia’s cheek, and Sylvia could feel her mouth start to fill with saliva as she began thinking more and more about the food. She shook her head to try and get those thoughts out of it, and a bit of spittle ran out the side of her mouth, eliciting another spine chilling chuckle from Scarlet.

“Look at you, already drooling at the thought of food. My, you are primed to be a piggy, aren’t you?”

“I’ll never- I’m not-”

“Oh, Sylvia, it’s so cute to watch you try and fight this, but I’m just unlocking what’s inside you. You’ve always been greedy. Now the world will get to see what a greedy piggy you really are.”

“I won’t- I can’t- you can’t-”

Scarlet’s hair tickled Sylvia’s chin, and she reached out an elongated finger to silence her.

“Hush now, darling. We’re wasting time. After all, you’ve had your fun. It’s time for mine.”

Suddenly, Sylvia’s stomach gurgled again and then-

PPPBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT!!!!!!

A loud trumpeting sound erupted from her tight and toned rear end eliciting a chuckle from Scarlet.

“I do find it funny when they start off hot and gassy.”

Before Sylvia could say anything another loud, hot fart escaped her ass cheeks. The smell immediately enveloped her, and she began to choke on her own stink at the same time that the heard the laughter of the crowd start up again. The difference was that they were no longer laughing at Jennifer, they were laughing at her. Even Jennifer was laughing at Sylvia.

Sylvia’s hands flew behind her as she tried to press her cheeks together in a vain attempt to stop yet another fart from blasting out of her butt. However, as she pressed her hands against her ass cheeks, a new horror dawned on her.

They were softer.

It was undeniable, there was far more flesh back there, stretching out her dress, than there was before. And the flesh was spongy. She could feel her fingers squishy into the flab of her fatter butt cheeks, and, worse still, she could feel those chunky cheeks vibrate as another long winding fart puttered out of her butt despite her best attempts to stop it.

This newest burst of gas brought more laughter from the crowd with Scarlet’s high pitched cackle raising above them all.

And as Sylvia looked up at Scarlet floating in the air above her, she also felt her own dress tighten further. This time, it was clear that more than just her backside was growing. Sylvia could feel the front of her dress stretching out, and when she looked down she could see her stomach growing out past her breasts.

Scarlet flew down and gave that new stomach flab a hard poke, and it was like something inside Sylvia burst. Her entire body began to shake, and she could feel her muscles go slack. She was still standing, but any kind of muscle tone that she had was soon to be replaced with flab. It was like her entire body was beginning to fill now, fill with fat.

“Time for you to get fat Sylvia. That’s right. God, I love watching smug bitches like you get what’s coming to them. I love watching that blubber bubble up as the fat piles onto your previously thin body. You thought you’d always be perfect? You really thought you’d get to be slim and sexy forever, that time would never catch up with you, that your habits would never find their way onto your waistline. And if it was for me, well with your privilege you would have probably gotten away with it.”

Sylvia staggered, and as she did so she could feel the new fat that had come to fill her thighs slap together. Her legs grew consistently chunkier and became covered in cellulite. Her thunder thighs kept growing thicker with each new lumbering step that she took as she looked around the room desperate to get help from anyone there. But all she found was Scarlet grinning at her, laughing. Wherever she turned, Scarlet was there. 

“That’s what I’m here for, Sylvia. I’m the end of privilege and the beginning of punishment. I’m judgement. I’m fairness. I’m everything you deserve, everything you’ve always had coming to you.”

Sylvia covered her face to escape Scarlet’s gaze, but as her fingers touch her face, she could feel them sinking into soft flesh where there was none before. Sylvia used to be proud of her high cheekbones and angular facial features, but now she was pressing into the plushness of newly chubby cheeks. And when she pulled her hands away, she found that her fingers had grown swollen as well. Her chubby hands now rested at the ends of fat arms with flabby bingo wings.

PPPFFFFFPPPPPHHHHRRRRRBBBT!!!!

Another fart ripped out of her, and Sylvia’s flabby body shook.

“You were such a shameless, skinny bitch, and now you’re going to be a big fat farting pig, my pig fat farting pig, my latest project. My newest victory. That’s what you are.”

PPHHHHBBBBBBRRRRRRRTTT!!!!!

Another blast of foul smelling flatulence burst forth, and Sylvia found herself doubling over. As she did so, she felt the way her now flabby stomach flopped forward and pressed against her thunder thighs. Sylvia’s chubby hands flew to her blubbery gut, and like so many of Scarlet’s victims before her, she tried her best to push the fat back into her body fighting against the reality that was now upon her. And just like all those other victims, the fat kept coming. She could feel the seams of her dress popping as the fat began to spill through the new openings and ooze between her chubby fingers. She kept trying to press inward, but her belly kept pressing her hands outward as it expanded further and further. She could do nothing but feel its growing weight in her hands.

Through it all, Scarlet’s smile grew even wider as Sylvia grew even fatter.

“You feel it? Feel yourself getting heavier. Feel the powerlessness as your control lessens and your weight grows. Feel how that fat fills you as your muscles give way and give out becoming thick juicy flabby fat rolls.”

Sylvia caught a glimpse of her fattening reflection in the glimmer of a silver punch bowl and screamed, a high pitched whine of a scream that quickly transformer itself into a squeal. Her fat fingers flew to her fat face once again, and she could taste the salty tears as they ran down her chubby cheeks. As she felt those chubby cheeks once again, she could sense how loose they were getting. She was developing thick jiggly jowls, and even her precious nose was growing fatter and piggish. All of this just made her sob some more, big angry sobs that turned into ugly snorts.

“You hate it don’t you? Of course you do, you incredibly privileged and prejudiced bitch. That’s what's going to make this so much worse for you. All of the hate that you’ve had in your heart and mind, all of those negative thoughts and unkind words you’ve had about fat people. It’s all yours to experience. I’m just turning you on yourself. And I’m enjoying every moment of it.”

PPHHHHHHHHBBBBT!!!!

Another trumpeting blast once again brought Sylvia’s hands from one set of chubby cheeks to another, and as she pressed her chubby fingers into her widening rump, she was distressed to feel just how much bigger her already bloated ass cheeks had gotten. Each mound of flabby flesh far overwhelmed the hand that attempted to hold it, and her dress had clear started to give away as she could feel the flesh that had since freed itself from the fabric. There was nothing she could do as her butt kept getting bigger and emitting fart after obnoxious fart.

“It stinks for you doesn’t it? Ha. You’ll have to pardon the lame pun I suppose. I have already had quite the busy night with more to go, but I do try to savor what’s in front of me. Isn’t that what's important in life? Taking the time to smell the roses or in your case well….”

More than even the fattening, it might have been the flatulence that frightened Sylvia most. Her eyes went wide as she felt her body giving up control again and again. Her mouth hung uselessly in an attempt to plead her case, but no sound could escape. The only sounds to be heard from the once silver tongued-Sylvia now only came from her boisterous bum. 

“I have to say it’s the look on your face that really does it for me. I always love when they look at me with such fear, such hopelessness, such total realization that their life is never going to be the same. You’re right. You’re no longer the queen of your social circle. You’re nothing. You’re just a fat, sweaty, flatulent pig, the lowest of the low, doomed to feel nothing but humiliation for the rest of your fat life.”

Sylvia could really feel the sweat now. In her panic over everything else she had noticed the fact that her body was becoming rapidly damp. Now she felt every rivulet running through every fold. She was growing slick yet sticky and decidedly foul smelling, from more than just the noxious flatulence that continued to leak out from her still bloating blubber butt.

And as she became aware of this new edition to her stench, she also became aware of another sensation. Her hunger was extreme. She could fee her stomach rumbling and not just with gas, and, without a second thought, she found herself practically throwing her fat body into the buffet, she took several waddling steps before she wobbled so far that she fell into the table and upended the punch bowl, spilling its content all over herself. She remained unphased however, as she hands grabbed for some now rather soggy crab cakes and began to shove them into her greedy mouth. Crumbs from the crab cakes fell into the deep cavern of her bloated and saggy cleavage.

After cramming her cheeks with crab cakes, Sylvia found herself stuffing her fat face with mini-sausages. After scraping those down, she began to devour deviled eggs. Whatever food there was on that table did not escape her greasy, greedy fingers. She was an eating machine stopping only occasionally to let out another massive fart in a bid to make more room in her gluttonous gut for further food.

“Yes. Go ahead, keep eating. What have you got to lose anyway? You’ve only got to gain, more and more weight. That’s what’s waiting for you, more and more fat, blubber.”

You’ll get used to the stink, Sylvia. I promise. In fact, you’ll get used to everything. That’s the one small kindness I’ll do you. When this is done you’ll feel completely natural.”

For the first time in a long time, Sylvia made eye contact with Scarlet and took a heavy gulp of food as a new bit of fear sweat burst from her forehead followed by the sound of another fart from her sad, sagging rear. This was more than even she could dare to stomach, to lose everything, to lose complete consciousness of who she truly was, to lose the hope of ever getting herself back under control and changing for the better.

“It will just feel right that you’re made fun of, that you’re looked at harshly, that people snicker behind your back. It will feel right when you’re passed over for promotions or looked passed by potential suitors. When people turn their noses up at you, or scrunch them up because of your noxious smell, you’ll know that it’s only right. You’ll be certain that that’s the way things are supposed to be, because you’re not some queen. You’re just a fat smelly loser, and that’s the kind of thing that fat smelly losers like you deserve. Somewhere in the back of your mind, when you’re reliving this nightmare, you’ll remember that you used to be the one who dished it out, that you were the one with the silver tongue and the body to die for. But now you’re just going to be the one to take it. You’re one of those people that the world just piles on top of because it’ll make everyone else feel better. And that’s an important role don’t you think? People need to feel better, and your fat ass is going to provide them with plenty of entertainment. They’re going to love laughing at you just like you used to love laughing at people you considered less fortunate. And at the very least they’re going to feel great knowing that they’re not you. They’re better than you, and you’ll see that. Everyone you see from now on, you’ll know with absolute certainty that they’re better than you. You are the lowest of the low, you are fat and flatulent and foul smelling and disgusting. You are not beautiful, you are not clean, you are not in control of your lown life. You are just a big fat loser fit for nothing more than being looked down upon and shoved around by everyone else, a meek little pathetic pig, a nobody.”

Sylvia felt her entire outfit shift. No longer was she dressed in the busted remains of a designer dress. Instead, she felt the coarse fabric of a maid’s uniform, one that was still extra tight and showcasing every new bulge of fat on her blubbery body. It was a maid’s outfit already covered with greasy food stains, and tell-tale dark spots marking the sweat underneath her armpits. She looked disgustingly servile and outrageously fat as she pathetically turned from Scarlet and back toward the food to keep stuffing her fat face. As she crammed more food into her mouth her jowls and chins jiggled along with the rest of her piggish body. She couldn’t stop herself from oinking and farting as she stuffed herself, noises that combined with the sharp laughter of those around her.

She knew she was a spectacle. She knew she should fee shame, but she couldn’t stop herself, and she was soon awash with the strangely calming knowledge that she would never stop herself. It was like reality was resetting just as Scarlet planned. Sylvia could feel herself trying to fight it, but it was soon apparent that she was giving in and coming to terms with the reality that this was how things were meant to be.

“And I think that’s perfect, you being turned into this. This is what you deserve. It’s the humility that you need, and the world will be a much better place without you having a hint of power or influence. Everyone will be better off with you as nothing more than a big fat gluttonous hog.”

As Sylvia began to tire from the sheer amount of blubber that she was carrying around, she leaned more of her growing weight onto the table until it broke. Trays of food fell to the floor, but this didn’t stop Sylvia from eating. After all, she knew she was going to have to clean this mess up one way or another. So she got down on all fours and ate like the pig that she was, oinking and farting as the people she once thought herself as better than laughed along. Even Jennifer joined in, delivering a spanking to Sylvia that made them both jiggle. Sylvia squealed in the moment but then went right back to eating, stuffing her fat face like an absolute pig.

Scarlet nodded in approval.

“That’s right. Eat up. Eat up and grow fatter. That’s your future. That’s all you're good for. That’s all.”

Sylvia did as she was told, like the good pig that she was. She stuffed her face with food even as her surging belly grew so big that it began to press against the floor while she continued to pick up more food, crab cakes grown spongy from the spilled punch they were now soaked in, soggy cookies falling apart and so much more. Her entire body jiggled. Her fat ass especially wobbled back and forth continuing to let loose expressive toots as she ate and ate and ate without slowing down or showing any sign of stopping. 

“Don’t worry. I still have your other family members to change, much more punishment to dole out. You may be feeling isolated right now, but believe me.”

Scarlet delivered her words with her usual gusto, but they fell on deaf ears at this point. The truth was Sylvia couldn’t really care much about her family one way or the other at this point. She was too caught up in the act of eating.

This didn’t bother Scarlet though, who delivered her final words with ominous flair. 

“Soon you'll all be one big fat family together again.”

And then Scarlet drifted off back into the shadows and left Sylvia there on all fours eating like a big fat stinking pig. 

Some Quick Updates

Hey, all. For those of you who have missed me, I just wanted to let you know that I pulled a muscle in my stomach which has made sitting up to type at my computer a tremendous pain in the ass. Combined with one of my busy work periods, this has slowed my output.

But I am almost done with the next chapter of Nightmare Pigs 2 which should be out in a day or two, and then I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things and churn out some content to make up for the downtime.

Thanks for your continued support!

“Face It. It’s Time to Work Out.” - An Exclusive Cut

Here is the third of five short stories, and this one is a Patreon exclusive. The next one will be only available for 7 dollar Even More BS members. It's right HERE.

Enjoy!

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You’re going to get on that treadmill, and we’re gonna see how you bounce.

What?

I know you look ridiculous. That’s the whole point. If you didn’t want to look ridiculous, then you shouldn’t have gone and turned yourself into a complete cow. Those exercise shorts fit you just fine a few pounds ago, piggy. And you used to love wearing crop tops, didn’t you? You used to love to strut around the gym in your tight short shorts and your crop top or even just your sports bra on and show off as much of your hot, toned, sexy body as possible. And I can’t blame you. You used to be to be so fucking hot.

You used to be the hottest piece of ass around here, and you knew it. Hell, you were probably the hottest woman wherever you went, and you loved to make sure people knew it. But I guess it was easier to show off your body back when you had abs. Now, well now you can’t help but show off that big blubber belly of yours. It just sort of announces itself.

Look at it. Look at the way that sad, pathetic sack of fat flabby flesh just sags like melting butter over the waistband of your shorts. Look at this ridiculous muffin top that you’ve got. Aren’t you ashamed of it? You used to love making fun of women with muffin tops, and now you’ve got this big fat tanker just sticking out there for the world to see. It’s so soft, so squishy. It just hangs there cause it’s fat and lazy just like the rest of you.

I know people are going to laugh at you. That’s the point. You used to be so spoiled, so arrogant. Well, now it’s time for you to be a good little humble hog. You’ve eaten everything else to get this fat. Might as well eat a little crow. So it’s time to waddle on in there and let everybody see what you’ve done to yourself, let everyone see how big of a fatty the former fit girl has turn herself into, how you’ve gone from gym rat to fat pig, from athlete to total couch potato. You got to sit around on your soft, flabby ass letting it grow wider, fatter, sinking into the couch just that much more. Well now it’s time for your reckoning. Let’s all see just how much you’ve changed.

That’s right, fatty. Waddle on in there. Damn, your thighs are really working. I love watching your fat legs slap and rub together like that. It’s so clear that you’ve got no tone there whatsoever anymore. And your ass has so much bounce. You have to feel all of that. It’s like fighting gravity constantly. You can tell how much it wants you to just sit down and let it spread out on a chair or sink into the couch. Meanwhile, you’re here already working up a sweat just stepping into the gym. And people are already starting to notice.

You used to love having all eyes on you. You used to live for this. I guess now not so much, huh? Do you think they recognize you yet? It might take a moment since you’ve gotten so fat. What do you think would be worse? If you were so fat and out of shape that they didn’t recognize you, or that they recognize you and realize how fat and out of shape you’ve gotten? I guess we’ll see.

Yep. That receptionist definitely recognized you. Did you see the look on her face? She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t make fun of you directly because she has to keep her job, but you can bet she’ll be laughing about you in the breakroom later. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was texting people about you right now.

Oh, I’m catching more than a few glances your way. I’m sure you have too. People are recognizing you. They see the woman who used to be a regular. They don’t know you well enough to say anything, but they remember you. They remember how hot you used to be, how confident, how much you clearly owned this place. Now they see what happens when you stop coming here regularly. That’s good for them. You’re a nice little cautionary tale, fatty. They see your piggy ass and double down on their own diets and gym dedication. They don’t want to be fat like you.

I think I see some other people looking at you too. They’re tougher to recognize. Oh, I think that’s because they’ve actually lost weight. Yes, they’re some of those fatties you used to make fun of. They seem so much fitter now, don’t they? At least, they’re so much fitter than you. I’m sure they’d love to make fun of you now, but they’re probably so surprised that they don’t knwo what to say.

There it is. I heard it. The first snicker. It came from two of those former fat girls. And did you hear what they said?

“Boy, she really let herself go.”

“Oink. Oink.”

They’ve really got you pegged, piggy.

I think more people are recognizing you. I can hear more attempts at whispering.

“She got so fat.”

“Serves her right.”

“I love this.”

“This is funny as hell.”

And the laughter. I know you can hear that laughter. It’s really picking up.

But let’s keep going. Let’s get to the main event and put on a show for these people.

Get on the treadmill, fatty.

That’s right. Look at you go. Look at all that fat undulating as you plod along. I haven’t even really gotten you going yet. Let’s try a little faster. You had that big meal. You’ve got plenty of calories to burn. There’s just so much blubber to watch bounce. It’s a beautiful thing.

Keep going. This used to be so easy for you, and now I can already hear you sucking air. You’re already getting so sweaty and flush. How much of that is from exertion and how much is from embarrassment? You’re pathetic, piggy. This is the perfect way to show you just how far and out of shape you’ve gotten. This isn’t just bulking. This is lard. This is useless flabby lard that you’re lugging around. You’re a weakling now, a fat pathetic loser.

Everyone is watching. Everyone can see you struggle. They no how weak you are, how out of shape you are, how fat you are.

They’re laughing at you.

They’re pointing. They’re calling you names. They’re whispering all about how glad they are that they’re not you. Aren’t you happy that you actually get to be useful? Your fat ass is showing them what not to do.

Damn, you really do have terrible form now. You used to be so graceful. You better not fall, fatty. I don’t want to have to pay for this treadmill if you break it with all your blubber. You just keep moving, one fat foot in front of the other, plod along piggy, plod along until I tell you it’s okay to stop.

Is that Cindy? Why don’t you wave hello. Go ahead. Lift one of those big fat flabby arms of yours and wave a bingo wing in her direction. Or are you too busy clutching onto the treadmill for dear life to keep from falling and humiliating your hog self even more? Maybe she’ll just have to come over here instead.

Well, looks like you don’t have to worry about her. She’s turning away. That’s sad. You and Cindy were best friends weren’t you? And now she’s turning her head away. She’s embarrassed for you. She’s ashamed of you. You’ve gotten too damn fat for her to handle. What a shame.

Okay then, fatty. I think your piggy butt has run enough for one day. You barely lasted two minutes which is pitiful, but I think you put on quite the show for everyone here. And now they can get one last good laugh at you as you waddle on out of here, sad, sweaty and defeated. There goes the once fitness queen turned pathetic fatty.

Say goodbye now, piggy. I doubt you’ll ever be back. You’re such a well trained piggy now, much more at home being a big fat lumpy couch potato. That’s where you belong, not here with fit beautiful people like you used to be. You’re meant to be at home eating, stuffing your face with your fat ass glued to the couch and getting fatter and fatter.

So let’s get you home, blubber butt. Now that you’re sweaty and all warmed up, I can’t wait to get my hands all over this blubber and give you your well earned reward.

“Face It. You’re Gonna Eat”

Here is a second short story, a sequel to “Face It. You’re Getting Fat”.

Enjoy!

———————————

You’re hungry. We’re both thinking it. We both know it. Look at you. I can see the look in your fat pathetic face. You’re practically starving.

And that’s saying something because you last ate- when? An hour ago? Two on the outside. And I mean a real meal. That’s not counting snacks. You think I didn’t see that candy bar you were trying to sneak earlier?

You are far too fat to be stealthy.

I saw you. I always see you. You think nobody’s watching you be a greedy little piglet, being a naughty naughty fat girl sneaking your snacks so you can try and pretend those calories don’t exist. But those calories are why you’re so fucking fat. You can’t stop eating. You’re weak. You’re pathetic. You can’t help yourself because you’re a naughty greedy little piglet, a helpless lazy fat girl with no self control.

How many times have you made fun of fat girls who couldn’t control their appetites? How many snide comments did you have ready to go every time you saw a fatty with a big plate of food in front of them. Now I bet you just get jealous, right? You used to see a big fat woman with a huge plate of greasy food, something full of meat and dripping with cheese, and thought “what a cow” and now you just think about how badly you want it. You see a fatty with a big fat piece of cake in front of them and instead of making fun of them, you’re just thinking about how you want two.

I’m right. You know that. I can see you getting hungrier the more I talk about food, the more I mention cake or cookies or burgers and fries, pizza, mac and cheese, spaghetti and meatballs, chicken wings, and Chinese food. I’ve got your stomach in knots alright but not just from embarrassment, from hunger. You want all of those things, and you want to stuff your fat face with all of them at the same time. You don’t want to choose, you greedy, gluttonous sow, you want everything, all of it, right now.

I can feel it, right here in this big spongy gut of yours. It’s so soft but it’s just begging to be stuffed full of food, stuffed until it’s nice and big and tight and round like a big stretched out ball of fat filled with all the food we both know your want to be eating right now.

Oh, is that a little rumble I felt? It’s faint underneath all this squishy fat that’s currently oozing through my fingers. But I’m pretty sure I felt it. Yup. There it is again. And I heard it that time. We both did. You’re hungry, really hungry. Your body is trying to tell you just how hungry you are, just how badly you need to eat, to make a complete pig of yourself.

Don’t deny it.

You can’t.

It’s written all over your face, the hunger in your sad desperate eyes, the tiny chocolate stain in the corner of your mouth. You can’t lie to me. This isn’t just a want for you. It’s not a simple desire. It’s a need. It’s an obsession.

I can’t blame you. I know how much happier you’ll be when you’re fed, when your full. My little piggy needs her next meal. What do you want my precious porker? Mac and cheese? Pizza?

Isn’t it nice that I have both? Yeah. I came prepared. It’s a weird combination perhaps, but what do you care? You fat gluttonous body is going to crave what it’s going to crave, and pizza with a side of macaroni and cheese its what its going to be. And that pizza? It’s got sausage on it. I know how much you love sausage. The mac and cheese is just a four cheese version. I don’t have a good euphemism for that. Oh wait, I guess you could say it’s extra creamy. Does that work?

Shut up.

I don’t care if it works as a joke. You’re going to eat it just the same. You’re going to cram your fat pretty mouth full of delicious, rich, creamy, ooey-gooey and oh so fattening mac and cheese, and I’m going to help you. And you’re going to like it.

Look at you. Already going for that pizza. You couldn’t even wait for me to get the mac and cheese. That’s a good pig. I love watching your greedy, chubby fingers grab that slice. I love watching the grease and cheese run down your chins. You know that double chin of yours gets so much more prominent when you chew. I love the way your chubby cheeks inflate as you stuff them like a fat chipmunk. I love the way every part of your jiggles with delight as that food slides down your throat.

Having a little trouble already? You’re eating so fast. It’s funny, the way that cheese is getting caught in your throat, the way you sputter and but bring yourself to stop eating. Can’t quite catch your breath there. You’re starting to snort.

Almost sounds like oinking, doesn’t it?

Yeah. You’re a little oinker. That’s perfect. I love listening to you oink, you greedy little piglet- my greedy little piglet. Keep it up. Keep oinking. It’s music to my ears.

Wow. That first slice went down fast, huh? But you a second one would go down just as easy. I bet you you could mow through at least half this pie without really thinking about it. But let’s have some Mac and cheese first. That’s right. Time for a big healing spoonful for my growing girl. Open wide. Here it comes.

That’s it. Whoops. That’s a lot there isn’t it? Getting a little messy, piglet. Maybe I overdid it a little. But you’re a big girl. You can take it. That’s right, piggy. Take it. Take all of it. Yeah. You can do it. You’re such a good piggy.

What a cute little moan you’ve got.

I knew you could do it. And I knew you enjoyed it. But that little moan? Oooo, I didn’t know you were gonna enjoy it that much. You really are too far gone, aren’t you, pig? You love all of this too much, all of this eating, indulging, all of this stuffing. You can’t get enough. Well, don’t let me stop you. Go ahead and have that second slice of pizza. You know you want to.

It’s good isn’t it?

You don’t have to answer. I can tell by the look in your eyes, and by the speed with which you’re shoving that hot pizza down your throat. The heat doesn’t phase you. You just want more. You need more and you need it now, you cow- you glutton. You’re already thinking of your next slice, aren’t you?

Too bad.

It’s not about what you want. You know what’s next. Get that crust down and then it’s time for another helping of Mac and cheese. I really want to fill you up. That’s what you need.

I want to fill you and feel you. That’s right. I love the feeling of my hand right here, slipping under your fat belly as it rolls onto your lap. I love the softness, the warmth. And I love the feeling of this gut growing with every fresh new bite of food. Keep eating. Keep growing for me. You know you love the feeling. You know you love the growing.

This is for us. All your eating, your pigging out, your getting fatter and fatter. It’s forth both of us. It’s for your own good. You deserve this. You deserve to be full and satisfied, and you deserve to be my helpless fattened piggy, the epitome of everything you ever used to make fun of. You deserve to lose control and be an absolutely obese mess. So don’t stop now.

Time for slice number three, and you’re only just starting to slow down now, but that cheese and sausage is just so good, isn’t it? Come on. You know you want more. Keep going.

Yes. Three. Then another spoonful of Mac and cheese. And then one more slice. Just one more for now, babe. You can do it. Be a good fat girl for me. Be a good little piggy. I’m not asking for too much. Just one more slice after this. We can work you up to eating a whole pie one day. Won’t that be exciting? But just half will do for now. You’re so good. You’re getting so fat. So. Incredibly. Fat. I can’t get enough and neither can you.

Just think. You really used to be so thin, so slim and sexy and toned. You were a real athlete before you let yourself go and turned into a greedy little piglet. You know what would be fun?

We should bring you back to the gym. Don’t you want to work out? Don’t you want to see how far you’ve fallen? Yeah. That sounds like a great plan to me. When we’re done with this I’ll let you digest a bit, and then we can pay your old friends at the gym a visit.

I’m sure they’ll be so happy to see you.

EXCLUSIVE CUT: "Bikini Babes Blow Up" Part 1

Is it cheating to post a part one and have that be my daily Fat Tuesdays Weeks content? Maybe.... but this got to a good place to stop, and the good news for you is that it'll commit me to writing a longer story overall so I can make part two satisfying.

Enjoy!

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Monica had been coming to this beach for as long as she could remember. Every summer, her family rented the same house nearby along with some of their closest family friends. Every summer since she was 18 it seemed like Monica practically lived at the beach, enjoying some newfound freedom with her two best friends, Tracy and Justine.

The three ladies were all of equal age and beauty, though in Monica’s eyes she was of course the most beautiful. And they all loved hanging out on the beach, laying in the sun, relaxing and, most importantly, showcasing their sexy bikini bodies.

And their bikini bodies were well worth showing off.

They were glowing beauties with trim tummies and long lean legs. They weren’t muscular, but they were toned, and Monica in particular had a set of lightly defined abs that she absolutely loved to show off any chance she got. Even when she wasn’t on the beach she practically lived in crop tops. It didn’t matter if crop tops weren’t exactly in style for anyone else. They were always in style for her. And when she strut her stuff, no matter what she was wearing, people turned their heads to watch. When she walked by, people tended to get quiet and just admire her beauty like she was a museum worthy work of art. Monica loved it.

Her friends weren’t very far off in terms of beauty either. Tracy had a particularly great ass, a plump but toned posterior, heart shaped, large and very inviting. People loved to gawk at it, and Tracy loved to catch people staring, practically drooling over her, and then give them a hard time about it (as if she wasn’t already doing just that.) And Justine, she might not have been packing as much down below, but she more than made up for it up top with her generous bosom which provided plenty of cleavage to put on display and turn people into drooling idiots. She savored every opportunity to remind people of where her eyes were.

As a trio, they were especially viscous. That was the case when they were in school, ruling whichever one they were in together. And it continued to be true once they graduated college and were able to rent a little beach house of their own during the summer, right next to their parents’ of course.

But this new found post-college independence was a thrill for the three slim and sexy vixens.

And it would also lead to their rather weighty downfall.

That downfall started simply enough, on a hot day where thee three gorgeous ladies were taking up their usual position on the beach reclining in their usual chairs having already chased off several fat people who were previously in “their spot” which was also as usual. 

“Shouldn’t you be inside before all your bacon fat sizzles?”

“Oink. Oink.”

“Whales are supposed to be in the water. Look at these ones getting beached.”

What was perhaps unusual that day was the way the three women ate.

If asked about it, perhaps they would have said something about being peckish. Or perhaps they would have just ignored the question completely. But of course, nobody ever even thought to challenge the three undisputed queens of the beach, so nobody bothered to question what they were eating and how much.

That’s probably why they felt just fine eating as much as they did.

It was an ice cream kind of day, and a cold sweet pre-made drinks kind of day which then led to more snacks to keep full and ward off a hangover from all of the sugar. Then when they retired from the beach for the day it was a very heavy dinner with lots of fat and carbs and protein, things they easily gobbled up in their pleasantly inebriated state despite the fact that they had already eaten so much on the beach.

And then they repeated this the next day.

Then the day after that.

And the day after that.

It was an entire summer of indulgence, a summer full of arrogance brought on by years of pretty privilege that told them they could do whatever they wanted with no consequences, including eating like total pigs without gaining a single pound. The margaritas were plentiful and the hotdogs were never ending. There were beah side BBQs and clambakes galore. Halcyon days of white wine spritzers and endless dessert buffets. 

Of course, all that indulgence eventually started to catch up with them. They couldn’t just get away with eating even more than when they were in college now that they were out of college. And so more than a few party pounds found their way onto the women’s waistlines. They all developed noticeable beach bellies by the end of the summer, pouches of pudge that poked out beyond the waistband of the bikini bottoms that now clung much tighter to their bigger, wider, softer butts. There wasn’t enough fat to let gravity take off and pull their bellies over the waistbands, not yet at least, but they were certainly softer than they were when summer began. 

Not everybody noticed, and even if they did people didn’t care. But those beach going regulars the girls liked to make fun of, the ones who had the misfortune of knowing them so well, they took note, and they began to smile behind the trios’ subtly widening backs because they knew that there was more to come. 

It doesn’t take long for certain things to become bad habits, and that was the case with Monica, Tracy and Justine. Even after the summer ended and the weather began to change, the previously lean ladies kept their indulgent habits going. And as the weather got colder and clothes got warmer and roomier, it made indulging even easier since the results of that indulgence became harder to see.

But of course, spring and summer soon came back around, and the clothes once again shrunk down as the girls returned to the beach.

This time they returned noticeably heavier.

There was far more bounce to their steps, and their lack of gym time and abundance of snack time was clear. They weren’t trim and toned. They were chubby and jiggly, and their bodies shook as they plodded across the sand. Their footsteps was just that much heavier, and people noticed. The ladies were greeted with side eyes and quiet chuckles along with whispers of “Good for them” and the like because people could see exactly what was happening. 

The people could also see the differences between the three women, specifically with how the weight was settling on their bodies.

Monica had a mighty pot belly. That was where most of her weight tended to settle, and in fact people were eager to whisper about the possibility that she had gone and gotten herself knocked up when they first saw her on the beach, and they were even more gleeful when they realized that was not the case. She was just sporting a food baby from all of the summer barbecue that she enjoyed eating. When she returned to the beach after that first summer her abs were gone and replaced with a pudgy pot belly that had lots of bounce to it. She had plenty of bounce in her butt and newly jiggly thighs too, but the real show when it came to those parts of the body was reserved for Tracy.

Tracy was clearly developing into a pear shape. Her butt had ballooned in the months since she last turned heads on the beach. Now her blubbery butt still had a real hypnotic sway to it albeit with a lot more emphasis on the amount of sway. And Tracy had thicker thunder thighs to go with it. Her previous thigh gap was gone, replaced by flabby thigh fat that shook and slapped together as she walked. She moved slower than the others because of her fatter legs and bigger booty. While she wasn’t quite waddling yet, she did find herself fighting to do an awkward shuffle in the sand whenever the others would start to get too far away. Her thunder thighs meant a lot of extra effort and sweating in the already hot sun, so when she finally got to plop her plump ass into a beach chair, she was extra hungry, almost as hungry as Justine.

Justine got the best and worst of it when it came to weight gain. With her incredible appetite, it was not a surprise that she had put on the most amount of weight compared to the other two. However, the weight she did gain distributed itself in a much more even fashion. In fact, it rather flattered Justine and gave her the start of an extreme hourglass figure. Her butt and thighs grew thicker as her hips widened out, but she didn’t look nearly as disproportionate as Tracy’s. They had quite a bit of give to them but were still very enticing curves. At the same time, although her stomach was no longer flat and she had still packed on a few pounds around the middle, Justine’s breasts were the real star of the show.

Her breasts were spilling out of her bikini top and lunged forward with the ability to seemingly defy gravity. They grew rounded as well as they inflated in all directions. She looked like a pornstar, and Monica and Tracy were incredibly jealousy.

That jealousy ran strongest in Monica who had already lost her prized possession in her abs, and had also lost her status as undisputed queen bee of the group to Justine. She would look sadly at her own deflated, saggy gut, and then over at Justine’s outrageous curves which still drove a lot of people crazy and garnered her a lot of attention.

Monica decided she needed to remedy that. If she wasn’t going to get the positive attention that she wanted, than neither was Justine. To that end, Monica had only one logical plan in mind.

Justine needed to get fatter.

She was going to make sure Justine ate so much and got so fat that her curves stopped bending and just broke.

"Face It. You're Getting Fat"

Fat Tuesday Weeks continues with what I think will likely be the first of three or four small pieces.

Enjoy!

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I’ve gotta say it. You’re getting pretty fat. 

I mean, look at you, girl. You used to be so put together, so tight and toned and sexy. You knew how sexy you were too. I saw you. I saw the way you loved to flaunt your body in those tight skimpy outfits. 

The outfits are still tight, I guess. But that doesn’t look like it’s out of choice. Is it? I didn’t think so. Nah, you’re packing yourself into this dress right now because you’ve been packing in the pounds. 

Just look at this inch I can pinch, this lovely love handle. Your waist used to curve in, not out. Where are the crop tops you used to wear? I bet they’re in the back of your closet, gathering dust while you lie to yourself and tell them you’ll wear them again one day. You wouldn’t be caught dead in them now, not when they’d look like nothing more than sports bras resting atop this great big belly of yours. 

It’s so soft. I love the feel of it, how humiliatingly squishy it is, how squeezing it makes your squirm under my touch. Squirm, but not pull away. You won’t slap my hands away either will you? Because you don’t want to. You know you deserve this. You spent all those years flaunting your body, taunting and tearing down others, and now you’ve earned this humiliating little inspection since you’ve gone and turned yourself into a naughty little piglet. 

You used to have abs. I remember watching you flaunt them. I remember watching you flaunt this gut of yours last week too, accidentally of course. You thought you could still fit into one of your blouses, the one that you didn’t realize had a great big mustard stain on it, and your belly was bulging out between the buttons, flowing out from under the blouse and flopping over the waistband of your stretched out skirt. 

And it’s really stretched out, isn’t it? Damn, girl. You’ve gotten real hefty back here. I can feel it. You used to be so firm, and now its like squeezing two old sponges. You’ve got these fleshy, squishy, saggy bags of fat hanging from where your tight ass cheeks used to be. Ha. Tight ass. Yeah. You used to be one of those alright, but I guess your personality has loosened up a bit too now that you’ve decided to let yourself go. 

You just don’t care anymore do you? That’s why you’ve let yourself get so fat. That’s why your hips are so broad and your belly’s so big and wobbly. It’s why you can’t stick to a diet, and why you don’t bother to get back in the gym you used to frequent. You’ve given up. Given in and gotten fat. You don’t care. 

No. 

That’s not true. 

If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be so embarrassed right now. I can see your chubby cheeks blushing. Oh my, they have gotten chubby. Haven’t they? 

I feel like your face used to be so much slimmer, those cheekbones more prominent. Now your slender face is just like the rest of you, nice and round. Chubby, pinchable cheeks and a delightfully doughy double chin, that’s what you’ve got now. A fat face. A dopey face. You used to look for angelic yet so arrogant. Now you just look fat and pathetic, afraid, like you know all you’ve lost and all you’re still going to lose. 

You can’t help yourself. 

That’s it, isn’t it? It’s not that you don’t care. It’s that you can’t stop. You want to diet. But food is just too tempting, too good, too comforting. You need it. You need delicious calorie heavy junk food. You need the grease. You need to keep yourself stuffed which is why you’re so stuffed into this outfit. 

And the gym? Forget about the gym. You want to go so badly, don’t you? You know the old exercises. You know what you need to do to lose this weight. I bet you know how much time you’d have to spend there, just how much of your cushy life you’d have to rearrange to shift this weight off your overly cushy ass. You could do it. You could go to the gym today and start putting int the work. Get right on the treadmill and start working this gut off. 

But you’re picturing that jiggle, aren’t you?

You can feel the weight of your bouncing belly just by thinking about it. You can feel your thighs slapping together. I bet you can hear the sounds of those thunder thighs too. And not just that. You can hear your own panting, the way you would be struggling to keep any kind of pace. And most importantly?

You can hear the laughter.

You can feel the stares, those judgmental looks you used to give others. You know how people will treat you as your struggle through the most basic of exercises because you used to be that person who made fun of fatties for your. Well, now you’re the fatty, so you’re fair game. And all those people you used to show off in front of? They’d get to revel in your downfall if you ever waddled your fat ass into the gym. So how could you do it? How could you show your fat face there? It’s too humiliating. It would be too painful. 

No. It’s much better to just stay at home and stuff your fat face as your fat ass grows even fatter. Stay glued to the couch, you bloated couch potato, you helpless, weak, fatty. Be what you’ve always made fun of, one of those fat women with no discipline, no control, who eats their feelings and is always making excuses about why they don’t do anything to change their lives and lose the weight. Stay out of the gym. Grow lazier. Grow fatter.

Life’s just easier when you’re a naughty, greedy, fat little piglet, isn’t it?

And that’s exactly what you are, my own little oinker. You’re a pudgy little porker now, a pot bellied pig with a blubber belly, a fat flabby ass and some juicy thunder thighs. Every part of you is fatter. You’ve even got fat arms now. You’ve got some fun, flabby bingo wings. I bet they make you feel so weak and pathetic. They used ot be strong, and now they just flap about uselessly.

Even your breasts are sad. They haven’t grown nearly as much as the rest of you, and they just kinda sag defeatedly toward your gut. They’ve got such weight to them, but they’re just fat and sad. Your spare tire, you big ol’ pot belly, your gelatinous gut, that’s the real showpiece, the real head turner. People need to look at you and wonder if you’re pregnant. How many times have you been offered a congratulations and asked when the baby’s due just this week alone?

But I can feel the difference. Right here. I can feel that fat oozing between my fingers as I squeeze your fat, blubbery belly. It’s far too soft. No, the only baby you’ve ever had inside you is a food baby. But the good news is that’s just going to grow bigger too. As you get fatter, you’re going to get hungrier. You’re going to need even more food to satisfying this greedy pig gut of yours. So your stomach will grow fatter, and when you eat it will swell even larger. And for a while you’ll try to pretend that a lot of your belly is just bloating. But you know it’s fat.

It’s all so much fat.

What’s that?

I can feel it rumbling. I can hear it.

Is my little piggy hungry?

Oh, you must be so ashamed of yourself. It must be so humiliating knowing how obvious it is that you’re a naughty, fat, greedy little piglet. I know you’re just craving food. I know your body is just begging to be stuffed. You want it. You need it. You know it.

That’s right. Nod for me. Show me how much you want it.

I can see that hunger in your eyes, that desperation. You don’t want to be a fatty, but you need it. You need to eat. You can’t help yourself, and that’s why you know you’re going to grow much much fatter now matter how much you hate that idea. You’re judging yourself right now. You know how pathetic you look, the formerly fit girl desperate for food, the slim and sexy vixen who is now nothing but a fat greedy pig, a hungry hog.

You’re practically oinking for it.

That’s how desperate you are ot eat even though you know how fattening your next large, greasy meal will be. You deserve this.

Come on then, piglet. Let’s get you fed.

No.

Let’s get you stuffed.

Let’s get that greedy gut of yours nice and full and satisfied.

And then I think I really will make you oink for me.

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 42

Fat Tuesday Weeks starts off with "Fat Trimmings" Volume 42 which includes two stories, both sequels to stories I've written elsewhere. "The Fat Making Notebook Likes the Nightlife" is a continuation of the "Fat Making Notebook" series. And "Thick As a Whale" is a Thick Burger story that is a sequel to "Swim Star" from Volume 11 and "Mermaid or Manatee" from Volume 22.

Enjoy!

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“The Fat Making Notebook Likes the Nightlife”

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The night was young and ready for fattening. Asami wasn’t one to usually go clubbing, but with the fat making notebook in hand she felt far more confident than usual. And the darkened dance floor of a nightclub seemed like a great place to get into some mischief.

Plenty of the people that had made Asami’s life miserable were club goers. They were real woo-woo party girls who loved to wear short dresses and show off their hot bodies. They were vain vixens who didn’t pay for drinks. They loved to flirt with guys, get their reward, and leave the guys hanging. (Not that Asami cared much about the fate of men mind you. She just found the system of “be hotter and pay less” at the bar to be incredibly unfair. It was capitalism at its unchecked worse.) Tonight, Asami was feeling a bit like a socialist.

She was ready to redistribute the weight.

And that weight distribution started on her way to the club. Right there on the street, Asami saw two ladies, staggering in their heels clearly barely of legal drinking age and not quite ready to handle a night full of partying. They were so outrageously pretty even if they were embarrassingly drunk. Asami looked at these two pretty girls, made of privilege and dressed in their mini-dresses hugging tight to their toned bodies. She was insanely jealous of them, and yet, she couldn’t help but feel bad for them seeing them struggling like this, blindly wandering through these town in heels that were ready to break. Even as a duo, it wasn’t a pretty sight.

That’s when she realized she could solve her jealousy and help them out at the same time.

She pulled the notebook out of her purse.

“These two drunk girls have big butts, big bellies, and even bigger appetites. They’re going to head to the local pizza shop and split an entire pizza between the two of them along with a bunch of garlic knots. They’re going to stuff themselves until they sober up and then eat some more.”

Just like that the dresses got a lot tighter. But women grew butt made of big buttery buns of fat, blubbery masses that stretched the dresses out sideways and then forced them to ride up until the bottoms of their chunky cellulite covered ass cheeks. Their thighs thickened somewhat and the muscle tone loosened with fat, but they didn’t grow nearly as much as their blubber butts. Those became quite comically bulbous.

Their bellies grew quite sizable as well. Their taut middles gave way to guts that now stretched their dresses to their limit. The two women looked like quite the sight with their big blubbery bellies and equally big asses sticking out at opposite ends like perfect counterweights. Their bellies were clearly spongy and jiggled with every step, and their dresses wrapped tightly around them to showcase every new ounce of fat. It was like they were vacuum sealed in.

And those big bellies growled with hunger.

The hunger ripped through them, and, pulled by a power that was not their own, they made their way across the street to the local pizzeria to gorge themselves on a pepperoni pie and a bunch of garlic knots. As they moved, slowly and drunkenly, their flabby bellies shook in front of them and were so heavy that it caused them to sway off balance and gave them a kind of waddle that really made their blubbery butts bounce.

After that, Asami fattened up another random hot woman purely because she was about to be one more person standing in line in front of her, and Asami was feeling impatient. She gave this woman tremendous thighs and an appetite to go with them.

Her already curvy hips grew nice and wide, greatly straining the dress and the colorful leggings that she was wearing. Her thighs thickened with fat to match her widened hips. Any sign of tone was quickly lost as her thighs filled so quickly with fat that said thigh fat slapped together. Her thighs slapped together again and again and again with a pace that at first grew more rapid before stopping entirely like a quarter spinning on a table in its last gasps. Her thighs grew so thick that that fat stopped getting closer and closer together and just started rubbing together and then constantly pressing together before pushing her legs out nice and wide, forcing her to waddle.

And waddle she did, away from the club and right up to a hotdog cart instead. She quickly ordered a pair of hotdogs and a pair of chili cheese dogs. The first hotdog was gone before the first of the chili cheese dogs was ready. She had after all thought ahead and knew she would need something to tie her over until she got to the main event. The second hot dog went down in short order, and then she was onto the chili cheese dogs. She scarfed them down one right after another with no concern for the condition of which quickly became spattered with chili and cheese. Before she was even done with the first one, she was ordering two more.

In total two regular hotdogs and four chili cheese dogs were consumed by the woman with the large thunder thighs that now filled her leggings- fittingly enough- like overstuffed sausages. Speaking of, before waddling back to the line to get into the club, she ordered one big Italian sausage with the works so she could keep her energy up while waiting to be let into the club, something she still had all the confidence in the world would happen despite the strange looks she was getting from passers by who were gawking at the size of her almost cartoonishly large, flabby thunder thighs.

Asami meanwhile was now almost at the front of the line. She decided to add just a few pounds to women in front of her with the caveat that they would gain even more the more they danced. She figured that would give her some entertainment throughout the night. 

Then, when it was her turn, the bouncer looked Asami over, up and down. 

“No fat chicks,” he said brusquely. 

“What?” gasped Asami. 

“But it’s ladies’ night.”

“Not for you, fatty,” laughed the girl behind Asami as the bouncer nodded at her and let her pass. 

Well Asami was going to have none of that. 

“It’s BBW night here at the club and these fat and happy and ready to party while the one being let in in front of me is recently fat and extremely self-conscious about the outfit that she’s squeezed herself into.”

Bianca suddenly didn’t know why she was here. She couldn’t believe it. 

Clubs like this used to be her thing. She used to own the dance floor. She used to turn heads. She used to be so slim and sexy and confident. 

And then she got fat. 

Bianca couldn’t even remember how it has happened. It must have been a whirlwind of bad decisions and binge eating. But nowhere she was feeling like a bloated whale stuffed into a dress that was designed to be tight at least fifty pounds ago. Now she was practically spilling out of it. 

Her gut had gotten huge and the dress wrapped around it, highlight it as it clung to every inch of her flabby flesh. She had very clear very meaty love handles that the dress also tucked around and under. Folds of fat swallowed up the fabric of the dress and pulled it further up her thick, flabby thunder thighs. 

Those thighs were now covered in cellulite just like her big fat ass. She had a blubber butt instead of a tight toned heart shaped one that used to turn heads. Now her cheeks were chunky and bounced along without rhythm. She didn’t want to think about what they would look like jiggling about on the dance floor. Every part of her was fatter. Every part was soft. Every part was jiggly. 

And yet here she was. 

She looked behind her and saw a bunch of fat and happy faces, eager fatties ready to shake their large bodies on the dance floor. It was BBW night and Bianca was here just like the other fat girls. Once she would have been making fun of them. And now she had no choice but to count herself among their weighty number. 

Bianca sighed and waddled on in, hoping she wouldn’t feel as self-conscious in the dark and with a few drinks in her. 

Asami, meanwhile, was quite content. 

She looked around at the jiggling bodies of fat women who were now eagerly waiting their turn to enter the club and get their jiggly groove on. Their fat arms wobbled as they clapped in excitement. 

All of them had big blubber bellies ready to bounce to the bea. Their glorious guts stretched out their dresses or oozed out from under their tube tops. Their formerly fit bodies were now temples to fatness with folds of flab bursting out everywhere. They were already sweating and were very ready to dance. 

Asami smiled as the rope dropped and they all start wobbling and waddled past her. 

Her own dress was quite a bit tighter as well, but she paid that no mind as she waddled into the club eager to see what other kinds of mischief she could get into. 

It was going to be a fun night. 

(To be continued)

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“Thick as a Whale”

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Veronica felt her blubber slosh to the side as she rolled over in her bed. It was a tumult of fat that pulled her with it. She would have likely gone rolling like a big fat ball over the bed if her big fat flabby ass didn’t act as such an effective counterweight. 

She opened her eyes and felt her double chin wobble as she tilted her head to look at the door to her bedroom.

There it was, mocking her.

It was the cursed costume, the overstretched mermaid tale dangling limply, like the fatty folds of her own body, on a hanger. It was practically taunting her, reminding her that it was what got her into this mess. She had been so attractive, so vain, back before she ever put on the mermaid costume. And how did she end up getting so fat?

That was a real whale of a tale.

Eating. Just so much eating. That’s what she did these days. Eating on camera and off. First it was just for the commercials, then Thick Burger realized it could make more money with… let’s just say more niche ads, live streams that really focused on Veronica making an absolute pig of herself.

No. Whale. She was definitely a whale. That’s the branding that people preferred to use. 

Either way, it was true. She had grown from a slim and sexy hottie with a rocking bikini body into a big blubbery mess, a great big ball of lard. And the biggest part of that ball was definitely her stomach. It lurched forward in front of her wherever she went. She would waddle about and her big blubbery belly would bounce up and down and side to side. It was a great big sloshy sack of sagging fat that could not possibly be contained in any kind of shirt she tried to wear, and it looked equally ridiculously stretching out any kind of dress all the way down to her thighs because that’s how big and saggy her spongy spare tire was. The good news for people who saw her, is that her gelatinous gut was so big, soft, and saggy that people never had to worry about accidentally thinking she was pregnant.

That didn’t stop people from regularly touching it though.

Veronica was so fat that she was a curiosity. People could help but want to press on, poke pinch, and generally jiggle her big blubber belly. This was doubly so for anyone who had actually known Veronica in real life. Veronica had spent so much of her life showing off her sexy abs, and encouraging people to touch them as a way of making them jealous that they thought her gut was now fair game for grabbing so that they could feel a great sense of amusement. The schadenfreude was strong as people who had once felt the judgment of the formerly slim and sexy bikini babe watched her now struggle with the simplest of things and marvelous at the outrageously obese size of her fantastically flabby body, especially her big round blubbery apron of a belly. They loved that greedy blubber gut.

Of course, her big belly wasn’t the only big fat part of her.

As Veronica rolled her fat body out of bed, feeling like a fat wad of melted gum peeling herself off of her sweat soaked sheets, she felt the massive weight of her meaty thighs, thighs which were often confined to her overstuffed mermaid costume. When she wasn’t working, her fleshy thighs consistently rubbed together, widening her stance and making her swing her legs in a slow ponderous waddle that was far removed from the confident strut that she used to have when she modeled bikinis and sexy lingerie instead of food and her own unstoppable gluttony. Now her thighs lacked even the barest hint of tone. Anyone who saw them, and her lumpy, flabby ass, would have easily thought that she must have been a lifelong couch potato instead of someone who used to work out regularly and took great ride in being active.

Now Veronica barely moved, and when she did she felt like a big fat slug. Some days she thought about comparing herself to a snail, but then she remembered that snails still had hard shells that they dragged about, but there was nothing hard about Veronica. She was soft. At best she could be described as spongy, but mostly Veronica felt very loose. She felt like her body fat, which quivered with the slightest provocation, was disgustingly useless blubber that did nothing but make her life difficult.

And nowhere on her fat droopy body was this difficulty more evident than in her thighs and hips.

Besides slowing her down considerably, they made any kind of movement exceedingly difficult thanks to their weight, girth, and lack of muscle. This included getting up and down. Getting up was predictably difficult, but even sitting down was an issue. Veronica was now so large that she worried about losing balance and falling backward with a loud thud and potentially breaking a less structurally sound chair. Chairs in general were less friendly to her nowadays as she constantly worried about breaking them, getting stuck in them, or needing more than one of them to fully support her. 

Of course, when she did sit down on chairs, or anything at all, she sat on considerably more cushion than she used to. Her ass had grown incredibly fat. She now had two bloated cellulite covered cushions that she dragged behind her as she waddled about. If she tried to cram them into any kind of pants, they had a tendency to crest over them and give her a permanent plumber’s crack. If she wore a dress, the shape of that crack would still be seen as she constantly appeared to be vacuum sealed in. Her outfits were consistently so tight (because she was continuously in the process of growing out of them) that they stretched out and clung to her body revealing every lumpy curve that she had. When she wore leggings, one of her more frequently relied upon options, they were stretched so sheer that anyone could see the cellulite that covered her blubbery butt and tremendous thunder thighs. 

And when the size of her rotund rump and her tree-trunk thighs combined with the width of her girthy hips, Veronica was an absolute terror to anything that was precariously perched on a table or low set shelf. 

But her butt was still dwarfed by her belly. Veronica had even developed extremely large breasts, but those massive mammaries looked like sagging mounds of sad deflated puppy fat compared to her grand expanse of a gut. Veronica’s bloated breasts were covered in stretch marks and swung like heavy pendulums when she wasn’t strapping them into a heavy duty bra. They were certainly too big to just hold up with seashells and call it a day. Now her big nipples pointed downward, and looking at herself in the mirror made Veronica feel like a real cow with some big udders. Her breasts were so soft and spongy and yet so incredibly heavy due to the sheer amount of fat that filled them. They now put a great amount of strain on her fat back, especially when she took her slow steps and her breasts kept swinging from side to side, fat from her breasts slapping against fat from her belly. It was a large part of why she had to stop and rest every few steps.

The other fact was her big fat feet. They were constantly sore from try to convey her bloated body from point a to point b. They were swollen with fat and had sausage toes that she had to keep perfectly pedicured. Even though she kept her feet mostly tucked into her costume tail, she still made the occasional Little Mermaid parody videos on the side for a little extra cash. People paid a lot of money to watch her try to play with her feet just for her big blubbery belly and thunder thighs to get in the way and make doing so impossible. That was part of the thrill. They loved to watch her struggled, loved to watch her flabby body quiver with each attempt. And rest assured, the quivered from head down to her fat toes.

People especially silly loved the way her fat legs quivered as she tried to stretch her chubby hands and fingers past her bloated cankles to get to her big fat feet. Her arms shook too. Veronica’s arms used to be so thin and toned, but now they were just big flabby limbs with bloated bingo wings instead of defined biceps. Her arms were now just as pathetically jiggly as the rest of her big fat blubbery body. 

That part that made Veronica the saddest though was when she looked at her face in the mirror. Veronica’s face had been so beautiful and full of confidence. Now she could see the defeat in her eyes. And those eyes looked pretty beady to because of how bloated her face had become. Just like the rest of her, Veronica’s face had grown swollen and round with fat. She had great jiggly jowls and a multitude of doughy chins that quivered with every movement, especially when she ate. 

And Veronica ate a lot. 

She couldn’t stop eating. Even when the camera wasn’t on, Veronica was always hungry. It was a large part of why she was so large, the non-stop after hours snacking. And as she grew she felt worse about herself which meant she sought out the one thing that gave her comfort, food. The more she ate, the fatter she got. The fatter she got, the more she needed comfort. The more she needed comfort, the more she ate. She was stuck in the fattening cycle with no means to escape. 

Veronica’s whole life revolved around food these days, food and humiliation. Her work life demanded it. Her home life was filled with it. The woman who once had everything, and who loved to flaunt it while taunting others, now had nothing but fat filled days of misery. 

To think, she had once been a slim and sexy swim star who could cut through the water with ease, a model, a real beauty with a bright future. Now she just felt like a big fat waddling loser who could barely bend herself over enough to tie her own shoes, a whale. And there was nothing to be done about that. It wasn't like she was going to suddenly go on a diet or start going to the gym again. She couldn't handle that kind of humiliation. At least when she performed in front of the camera she didn't have to see the people that were laughing at her downfall. There was no going back for her, only going forward, only getting fatter.

So she waddled to the door and grabbed her mermaid costume off the its hanger. 

It was time to see what this day’s humiliation would bring. 

Happy Fat Tuesday!

Fat Tuesday week is here, and I have some important updates.

Sooooo..... I got a virus last week which delayed my writing greatly. This means that instead of Fat Tuesday week having two stories a day, I am going to stretch this, our second Fat Tuesday Week ever, to two weeks!

You can expect me to do my best to get at least one new piece of content up each day for the next two weeks.

Tonight, I will be posting Fat Trimmings Volume 42 which will feature two stories: "The Fat Making Notebook Likes the Nightlife" and "Thick as a Whale".

I hope you'll enjoy them. Teasers will be coming to Discord soon.