BS Writer

"Model Made to Waddle" Chapter 1

Over 9,300 words. That's what this first chapter of what was supposed to be an epic piece of fiction comes out to. Then I got screwed out of the commission money that I had already spent by someone who held up my PayPal funds because he owed me more money. More on that will be talked about at the end.

Anyway, here's the first part of what could be an epic story.

Enjoy!

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Ariel loved watching the way her lips moved as she said her own name. She loved the way her luscious lips curved into a passionate circle on “Ah”, the way her tongue flicked as she gently rolled her r and pronounced the middle of her name like a drop of golden sun. Even her lips couldn’t help but smile. And then she loved the effortlessness of the elle at the end, the way she just let it dramatically float off into the either. 

“Ah-Rey-Elle.” She was very particular about that. No short at the beginning, so coarse, like she was screaming. Her name shouldn’t be screamed. It should dance off the tongue as lithe and seductive as she was. She wasn’t a font or a fucking mermaid. Ul, A-ree-UL, disgusting, a name for peasants. She was no peasant. She was a model. She was perfection. And Ariel loved her name. 

She loved everything about herself. 

Ariel’s perfect mouth with its luscious lips was part of a face that was somehow simultaneously sultry and angelic. It did a lot to disguise her devilish attitude when she wanted it to. Her cheek bones were high and her jawline was well defined and narrow. She didn’t look sallow, however. Her face was gifted with the perfect amount of fat to make her look youthful and elegant. And her skin, just like the rest of her face, was absolutely perfect. It had a dewy quality to it, looking smooth and glowing without a hint of oil or grease. There wasn’t a blemish in sight, and Ariel prided herself on not needing makeup at all, though she always applied at least a little and did so flawlessly. 

Her eyes were as seductive as the rest of her. They shone a brilliant green and twinkled with a great sense of confidence and cunning. Ariel’s eyes were a window to whatever she wanted people to see. They were frequently cruel but could be incredibly kind when it suited her. They were a sign of her intelligence and cleverness and constantly greeted others with a clear sense of judgment. Ariel’s gaze was known to stop people dead and their tracks and leave them a stuttering, stammering mess. They were eyes that froze out women and turned men to putty, dangerous eyes.

Those eyes were paired with a perfect set of beautiful pearly white teeth, immaculate teeth that made for a gorgeous smile that was both brilliant and intimidating. Even her breath was gorgeous, something most people would never stop to think about. But, just like everything else about her, Ariel’s breath was meticulously cared for and therefore perfect. The fact that her teeth and breath were so perfect was actually something of note because- Well, if it was to be said that Ariel had one flaw it was that…

Ariel watched the shape of her mouth in the mirror as she gently blew a smoke ring. She smiled as the perfect O hit the mirror and burst rather cinematically. She smiled at the amusing game she loved to play with herself and then took another long drag of her cigarette.

Smoking was a habit that Ariel had picked up in high school back when it was edgy and cool to smoke beneath the bleachers. She only ever smoked cigarettes. (Being a stoner was beneath her after all.) And when she did smoke she felt cool and powerful. There was just something about the way she held a cigarette, the way it pursed between her lips that gave Ariel and extra mystique, a certain flair like she was an old Hollywood actress. For many people, smoking would have been a disgusting sight, but Ariel wielded a cigarette like a paintbrush that added another layer of color to her persona. The trails of smoke that gently trailed across her face and danced within her hair added to her allure.

And, of course, there were plenty of perfumes, whitening strips, breath mints, and other accouterments and preparations to deal with the other side effects of smoking. Ariel also did not have a particularly bad habit. Nobody would ever say she was addicted to smoking, and she certainly never chain smoked like some kind of fat degenerate trucker type. She was a delicate lady who was, in every way, physically flawless.

That flawlessness extended beyond Ariel’s face. Ariel had hit the genetic lottery, and so her entire but was flawless. She was gifted with muscle definition that she barely had to work to maintain. In fact, she could ultimately eat a lot of junk if she so wanted to and still maintain her extremely toned figure. Any working out that she did was really more of a show than anything else, it was nothing more than an opportunity to show off her rocking body. She occasionally got gigs that had her wearing athleisure wear and working out for people to drool over, but other than that she basically did nothing to achieve the insane results that she had. Instead she was gifted with natural beauty that started in her face and moved all the way down to her pretty painted toes. It extended down her swan-like neck and into her delicate shoulders which in turn were connected to her lean but muscular arms. Her arms were long and well toned and ended in slender wrists attached to dainty hands and long delicate fingers perfect for holding cigarettes.

Ariel’s torso tapered into a trim waist. Her curves gave her a perfect hourglass with a middle that was extremely well toned. Her flat stomach was one of Ariel’s favorite accomplishments, having worked hard to earn the six pack abs that she loved to showcase. Ariel was frequently seen showcasing her sexy six pack any chance she got. She loved to wear bikinis, and even when she wore dresses she was a big fan of ones that had a cutout in the middle to give lustful witnesses a window to view her perfect abdominals. Ariel was a fan of tight shirts and crop tops. Even her blouses and jackets were carefully tailored to showcase the taper of her waist.

Even when nobody was looking, Ariel loved to rub her hands along her washboard stomach. She would watch the fingers dance from muscle to muscle. And when people were around, Ariel would flaunt her abs in front of them too. She would frequently lift her shirt to give people a view and then make them watch her run a finger up the well defined line that ran through the middle of her torso as she bragged about how hard her abs were. During foreplay before sex, one of the things that got her going the most was the feeling of her lovers’ hands on her six pack. This intoxicating arousal was doubled when she could feel the way her abs intimidated them which was frequently the case.

Beyond her trim waist, Ariel had a luscious heart shaped ass. Her beautiful buns of steel were full but also muscular. One could bounce a quarter of the generous curves of her perfectly perky posterior. She had a butt that turned heads. You could watch her strut through a place, and practically turn people into floating cartoon characters. The sway of her hips and gently bobbing of her buttcheeks was that entrancing. Her perfect ass inspired plenty of wolf whistles and comments, most of which she soaked in with great enjoyment. And when she wasn’t in the mood for such crass behavior, a quick withering stare was enough to bring her catcallers to their knees.

Ariel’s own legs were much like her arms. They were long lean, but with just the right amount of thickness thanks to the muscle she had built up. She wasn’t bulky, she was, as always, slender, but her legs also carried with them the appearance of strength thanks to their toned nature. The athletic nature of her legs was something that Ariel loved to show off in skimpy outfits. Dresses that she chose to wear were either distinctly short enough to showcase her legs, were given a dramatic slit to allow her to show off her muscles, or were otherwise tightly taped in such a way that the toned nature of her thighs remained obvious. Similar to her arms, Ariel’s legs tapered into slender calves and ankles and ended with delicate feet which were elegantly showcased by the expensive footwear she frequently wore. Of course, she was also partial to going barefoot and letting people admire her feet that way. She was not ashamed to say that sharing pictures of her perfect feet had made her a large sum of money.

Her flawless legs with their toned muscle and smooth, supple skin, allowed Ariel to strut with confidence wherever she went which was perfect for her because she had her career as a model, and her legs contributed to a statuesque look that made her very popular. She was capable of posing for some seriously breathtaking photos.

Those breathtaking photos were largely so breathtaking because of Ariel’s largest and most valuable assets. To say that Ariel’s breasts were bountiful would be an understatement. They were generous D cups and stood out with a perkiness that defied the laws of gravity. More than just their size, that level of saying fuck you to physics was the thing that made so many women jealous. Ariel loved her absolutely perfect breasts just as much if not more than her assortment of admirers. Her breasts, thanks to their size, were showcased in whatever outfit that Ariel put on, and she frequently presented with a large amount of sultry cleavage that had people drooling all over. The size and shape of her breasts, especially when paired with the rest of her toned and trim yet curvy figure, gave Ariel a perfect hourglass and made her a very popular glamor model. The shape of the rest of her figure made it so Ariel didn’t have to whore herself out like a crass size queen. 

She had plenty to rely on and wasn’t some kind of big breasted bimbo, a bloated one trick pony because of her tits. Ariel could model anything. Whenever someone was looking for someone stunning to boost a brand’s popularity, Ariel was the perfect candidate, and her career was really taking off. She had amassed a massive amount of social media followers and tremendously lucrative contracts. Those contracts were incredibly important because Ariel also spent money like it was going out of style. One might think she was allergic to having a proper sized bank account, but Ariel was used to the life of extreme luxury, and she enjoyed living in a beautiful mansion and partying in exotic locales with her friends, a selection of colleagues and hangers on from as far back as high school. 

Ariel really loved to keep a vast array of sycophants hanging around to kiss her ass and be indebted to her. They made Ariel feel even more powerful, and while most of her entourage was made of women as slim and sexy as herself, Ariel made sure to keep a couple of duds around to make herself look even better by comparison. 

And the odd fat friend was a perfect form of easy entertainment.

Ariel’s fatphobia and incredible love of making fun of fat people for sport was something that developed along with her own incredible ego and came to prominence when she realized that her own successful future was assured thanks to her own slim and sexy figure. She had always been successful. She had risen to the title of head cheerleader in both high school and college. She was the homecoming and prom queen, and in college she was sorority president and was crowned Snow Queen at her college’s winter formal three years in a row. The only reason she didn’t win her senior year is because the committee changed the rules to “make it more fair” and made her ineligible. Ariel had this dispute settled out of court with a solid cash settlement and the public title of Snow Empress.

Since those school days, Ariel’s rise had only continued, as did her appetite for control and adoration. Ariel’s greatest enjoyment came from making sure that other people knew that she was inferior. She thrived when she was showing off her own figure and fame and loved to purposefully demean and degrade others. 

Fat people were still her favorite target. They were big targets as Ariel was fond of saying. Ariel found fat people to be the antithesis of everything. They were disgusting individuals, fat, unattractive, lazy and sloppy. Fat people were victims of their own over indulgence and worthy of nothing but scorn and derision. She had a history of mocking them dating back to her high school days when she would go as far as being a physical fat pinching and poking bully. In fact, her history of fat shaming was the only thing that held her modeling career back at all, something that made Ariel doubly resentful of fat people who were now costing her fame and money. It was bad enough that fat people needed to so greedily stuff their fat faces, but it was crossing the line to do so while taking money out of her already well lined pockets.

Just the other day, some fat fans recognized Ariel and asked her for her autograph, and Ariel took great pleasure in giving them a verbal tongue lashing instead. She dressed them down, called them all sorts of horrible names while making fun of their fat bodies, and then patronizingly gave them diet advice which was essentially to just stop eating. And when they cried and called her a bitch, her only response was to tell them that she was a rich and beautiful bitch who didn’t need fat fans.

Of course, it wasn’t just fat people that Ariel enjoyed controlling, insulting, and degrading, it was also the people who worked for her.

And woe be those who happened to be both.

Kelly was Ariel’s long-suffering assistant who was also a constant yo-yo dieter. This meant that she wasn’t always fodder for Ariel because of her fatness, but when she was weighing in on the heavier said she took extra blows to her bloated body.

In the eyes of many who saw Ariel and Kelly together, Kelly was known as Flounder. It was a joke that people were careful not to say around Kelly or Ariel because it was based on a pronunciation of her name and a reference and association that Ariel abhorred, but to many the nicknamed seemed to fittingly describe the way Kelly helpless followed Ariel around like a dogged sidekick ready to receive abuse. Those who took the time to actually point out any inaccuracies in the comparison because of the actual relationship between Ariel and Flounder were quickly silenced by way of “Shut up, it’s funny” and other such phrases.

One day, of course, Kelly got tired of being Ariel’s put upon lackey. The insults went just a hair too far, and while still desperate to cling to Ariel’s rising star, like Judas to Jesus, Kelly looked for a moment to betray her.

Kelly caught Ariel posing while looking in the full length mirror and smoking, something that was not at all unusual. With her eyes down lest she accidentally make eye contact with Ariel’s and catch another scolding for being distracting, Kelly quietly shuffled into the room with a tray of Ariel’s lunch at the ready. She carried the tray with a towel underneath it so she could slide it onto Ariel’s dressing table without making a sound. Ariel detested the sound of plastic hitting her fine mahogany vanity table.

All of Kelly’s caution was for naught however when she fell victim to Ariel’s signature heavy sigh.

“Do you have to step so loudly with your disgustingly fat feet?”

Kelly looked down at her feet, currently clad in a pair of comfortable and well padded old sneakers. She did not wish to look up as Ariel turned around to berate her fully.

“Seriously, I’m trying to concentrate, and that’s impossible to do when you insist on traipsing about her like an elephant. So please do me the favor and stop being such a loud, clumsy cow.”

“I’m sorry,” muttered Kelly, a token offering which received an eye roll from her employer. 

“Pathetic. You can’t even apologize properly.”

“I’m sorry, Ariel. I’ll be quieter next time. I know how important it is to not distract you. I just-umm… well… y-you wanted your lunch s-so I b-brough-“

“Stop stammering, you oaf. It’s annoying.”

“S-sor. Sorry.”

Kelly did her best to stand resolutely, even stomping her foot to steady herself, but all that did was make her belly bounce. 

Ariel eyed Kelly’s belly and the way the pudge pressed against the buttons of her blouse and rolled over the waistband of her slacks, slacks that were rather tightly stretched across her meaty thighs and broad butt. There was a lot of Kelly to take in at the moment (even if it was a fair bit less than there was just a month before) but Ariel’s eyes focused on that pesky belly. 

“Your pot belly is still there I see.”

“Y-yes,” stammered Kelly as her hands tentatively touched her most sensitive area. She couldn’t help but cringe as her fingers pressed against softness that she could never quite get rid of. The softness of her response, paired with the softness of her body, drew Ariel to continue her attack. 

She was never one to let a moment of weakness slip by unnoticed. 

“You haven’t bothered trying that juice cleanse I recommended.”

“I have. I have! In fact, I’ve lost a few pounds.”

“Not enough,” responded Ariel curtly as she sunk her index finger into Kelly’s flabby abdomen. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I am.”

Unsatisfied with the answer, Kelly twisted her finger and slid her thumb underneath Kelly’s chubby belly roll in order to give it a hard pinch, which Kelly simply took. She was well used to this kind of prodding.

“You have to diet too, you know. A juice cleanse isn’t a miracle worker. You have to actually try to look good, Kelly Belly.”

“You’re right.”

Ariel smiled as she brought her cigarette to her lips. She briefly let go of Kelly’s belly and ran her hand along her own trim tummy as a means of drawing the comparison between the two. She blew a smoke ring practically right in Kelly’s face and then once again fiercely grabbed Kelly’s belly fat. She leaned in with a sneer on her face.

“Of course I’m right,” said Ariel as she lifted Kelly’s belly up and down, giving it a nice shake before letting it go and letting it settle once again. 

“You’ve got quite the jiggle there.”

“I know.”

“So do something about it.”

“I am.”

“Not enough, piglet,” snarked Ariel as she turned her attention to her lunch. 

That lunch consisted of a bacon double cheeseburger with sautéed mushrooms and avocado added to it along with a large order of sweet potato fries and an order of onion rings along with a small apple pie and a large Diet Coke. It was to many an unmitigated feast. 

It was an almost ritualistic thing for Ariel, not a habit, but certainly something she enjoyed busting out on occasion. 

On days like this, Ariel loved big meals and not even because she had any kind of special affinity for food. She loved the act of eating big meals because it was another display of power. Her gifted metabolism meant that this meal was going nowhere. For her there was no “moment on the lips lifetime on the hips”. With Ariel there was just a continuous parade of feasts and a perfect figure maintained with less than zero effort. Meanwhile, people like Kelly looked a fast food and gained several pounds. 

That’s why Ariel was eating such an elaborate meal in front of her assistant. She didn’t have an appetite for food as much of an appetite for control and humiliation. It wasn’t for sustenance. It was another one of her tools for subjugation. 

And Kelly was practically drooling as she eyed Ariel’s food much to the slim and sexy model’s delight. 

“Jealous, piglet?”

Kelly just swallowed and hung her head in shame, but even though the start of Kelly’s double chin obscured some of her neck, Ariel was still poised to go for the jugular. 

“Of course you are. You’re probably dreaming about stuffing your face right now. You want this food, my food. You want to pig out but you can’t. You know you’re not me. You’re barely fitting those pants as it were. If you were to eat all of this, those seams would pop. You want to feel your greedy belly with fast food even though you know it’s just going to settle on that belly forever. This is why your hips are so wide and your thighs are so thick. You’re a greedy, gluttonous piece of pudge. And you wish you had my metabolism.”

Ariel popped a handful of fries into her mouth and in a very unladylike manner talked with her mouthful. 

“This is nothing. I can eat all of this and more and suffer zero consequences. I’m blessed. It’s like I was chosen to have a perfect metabolism to go with my perfect figure. I’m gorgeous and always going to be gorgeous while you’re going to spend your whole life being a subservient loser constantly struggling with her weight and failing because you lack control. You’re weak. You’re pathetic, and that’s why you’re such a sloppy tub of lard.”

She moaned as she took a big bite of burger and let the juice ripple down her chin, catching it with a napkin before it could drip down into the canyon of her generous cleavage. She took a second large bite and then wiped her luscious lips with a second napkin. Then she offered the napkin to Kelly. 

“Want to clean up some of that drool you’re getting, fatty? I know you want this really badly, but your staring is embarrassing.”

Ariel chuckled to herself and then pushed a few more fries into her mouth before wiping the salt from her lips with her tongue. 

“This is sooooo good. I could eat this for three meals a day. Hell, I could eat it four times a day and it wouldn’t matter. My waistline would stay just the same.” Then she took her finger and spun an onion ring on it before tearing into the onion ring while looking directly into Kelly’s eyes. 

“This just really hits the spot. It’s just what I need after a long day of being a gorgeous and successful glamor model. I mean really, this whole spread, and I even get dessert. I’m such a lucky girl, a slim, sexy, lucky girl. Aren’t I? Don’t you wish you were me? You do. It’s okay. Everybody does.”

Slowly, Ariel reached for the container of fries and picked it up before holding it toward Kelly. She waved her hand back and forth making the fries jump around excitedly in the container. 

“Would you like one?”

Kelly’s eyes practically glazed over as she looked at the fries glistening in salt and oil. She was deaf to the rest of the world as the fries called to her. Their scent danced in her nostrils. Her mouth moved on its own as she imagined their taste. Without thinking, her arm slowly lifted itself as she reached out to grab one of the tasty morsel. 

And as soon as she did that, Ariel pulled the container away. 

“Well you can’t have one!”

Ariel let out a loud cackle. Then, in another display of dominance, she didn’t even bother using her other hand. She just opened wide and ate several of the fries straight out of the container. 

“I’m doing you a favor,” she said with her mouth still full. 

“Saving you from yourself really. I can afford to eat all of this. You can barely afford to look at it, tubs.”

With one hand, Ariel lifted the burger to her mouth and took another voracious bite of the juicy meal while picking up another fry with her other hand and waving it in front of Kelly like a judgmental magic wand.

“That look of awe on your face is appropriate. You should be jealous. Being jealous is the smartest thing you’ve done so far- not that there was a very high bar to pass for that. You recognize greatness. You recognize perfection. You recognize someone who is better than you could ever hope and dream to be. Here I am for you to marvel at, and you’re left with nothing but the crushing revelation that I get to sit here and enjoy an indulgent meal living my fabulous life with my exciting career, flocked by people who adore and worship me, with tons of money at my disposal to buy all the nicest things to keep my in luxury for all of my days while you’re stuck wallowing in your sad, pathetic, fat life. I’m everything. You’re a fat nothing, and that’s all it is and all it ever will be.”

With burger in hand, Ariel got up from her seat and waved her food under Kelly’s nose before gesturing down to her own impressive body.

“I’ve got everything I could ever want. I’ve got more money than I could ever need. I’ve got men wrapped around my finger. I get to spend my life enjoying endless parties and indulgent meals that I never had to pay for. I get to wear the sexiest outfits and look absolutely gorgeous in them, glamorous, elegant, phenomenal in every way. I get to do all these while heaving delicious meals like this, ones that are fattening to everyone else but me. And you’re a big fat loser who’s always going to be a big fat loser. The only thing that you can be sure about is that you’re going to get even fatter. I get to be perfect while eating like a pig, and you just look like one. You’re a pig for now and forever.”

Ariel laughed as she took another bite of her burger mere inches from Kelly’s face while looking her dead in her tear filled eyes.

“Oink. Oink. Piggy,” she said with a chuckle as she daintily sat back down in her seat.

Kelly’s blubbery belly shook as she practically doubled over while crying.

Ariel was merciless.

“And what are you going to do next? Quit on me? You’re going to just walk away. Bullshit. You can’t walk away. You need me. I’m your meal ticket, and you need a lot of meals, fatty. So you’re going to keep doing exactly what I say. When I say jump, you say how high. You’re going to be a good obedient little fat girl. You’ll run my errands. You’ll bring me my food. And if I want you to stand there and drool while I stuff myself with a big greasy feast and you watch and dream about being able to eat it without it sticking to your widening waistline, that’s what you’re going to do, piggy. That’s what you are, a piggy, my piggy, and if I ask you to oink you’ll do that too.”

Kelly’s sniveling sounded halfway to a snort. The tears flowed freely down Kelly’s chubby cheeks as she openly, and loudly, sobbed. The tears flowed freely down Kelly’s chubby cheeks as she openly, and loudly, sobbed. But there was no condolences to be found from Ariel, just a cold shoulder as she tucked back into her food.

“Now go ahead and cry somewhere else. It’s distracting me from my meal.”

There was a part of Kelly that was relieved that the tremendous tongue lashing she had just received seemed to be over, but she just couldn’t stop herself from crying. Kelly hung her head low and did as she was told. She shuffled out of the room and the sounds of her tears faded like a passing ambulance in the distance.

With no one to watch her now, Ariel was really able to eat like a pig. Part of her knew she shouldn’t. Kelly had already left. There was no need to show off anymore. But the food was here. It smelled delicious and tasted even better. Besides, her metabolism could easily handle it. It wasn’t like she was a tubby girl like Kelly cursed with a poor metabolism. She wasn’t going to make this thing a habit, not like a pig like Kelly or some of her friends. So yes, she would do what she always did, which was treat herself to exactly what she wanted. She dug right in.

Burgers were something of a weakness for Ariel. Of course, it was hard to say she really had a weakness at all. It’s not like the burgers ever did her any harm. She loved eating them. She loved getting big messy ones loaded with toppings, even though those were the kinds of burgers she would usually save just for eating at home. And thanks to her incredible metabolism, the burgers that bother most people never left a trace of fat on her. It was another reason she enjoyed eating them so much.

To say she ate with gusto would be an understatement. She absolutely attacked the burger. While still taking bites that were as large as or even larger than before, she ate more quickly, more recklessly. She was far too conscious of her dress to let anything ruin it, but she did break with her perfect posture to hunch over her vanity with her elbows up, and smatterings of sauce, burger meat, and assorted toppings did fall down onto the platter that it was served on. Whatever couldn’t be scooped up by a fry after the fact was quickly snatched up by her greedy fingers and stuffed into her mouth.

The rest of the fries went down in short order. Their salt coated Ariel’s tongue as she stuffed handful after handful into her mouth. She began to eat them using both hands, practically fighting herself to avoid attempting to shove two handfuls of fries into her mouth at the same time. And when she was out of fries, she switched to the onion rings. She tore into those, still somehow ravenous despite all of the food she had already consumed. 

The onion rings may have been Ariel’s favorite part even though she did know it meant she was due for a teeth brushing and an array of breath mints immediately after this extravagant meal was done. But that was a minor inconvenience for future Ariel. For now she just focused on the way the juicy onion rings danced on her tongue as she ate them. They were perfectly cooked with the right crisp and just the right amount of oiliness.  Eating onion rings made her feel bad in all the best of ways. They were a treasure that she savored as she ate one after another. It was like she couldn’t get enough even once they were finished, and even after she had already eaten so much. She felt like such a fatty, but she knew nobody else would ever even think of her in that way which brought a big smile to her grease stained face.

When the onion rings were gone, all that was left was the small handheld apple pie which she drew from its packing and held to her nose. She took a long deep sniff, absorbing the sweet smells of apple, cinnamon, and nutmeg. She closed her eyes and let out a soft moan as her teeth sunk into the pies flaky crust. It was like biting into a piece of heaven. Ariel didn’t even care about the crumbs that decorated her cheeks as she greedily shoved the pie into her mouth and rapidly consumed it. There was a part of her that really felt like a greedy sloppy pig, but in a way that made it all the more thrilling. Nobody was watching her be naughty, so why should she judge herself? She was beyond judgment anyway.

If anything, Ariel’s only regret was that the apple pie didn’t come with a scoop or two of ice cream. Ariel loved ice cream, and the thought of some at this moment had her licking her lips. Sure, she should have been outrageously full, but there was always room for ice cream. She made a mental note to have Kelly order her some to go with whatever her next meal would be. It would be so fun to eat ice cream in front of the jealous Kelly.

A small groan escaped her grease covered lips as she leaned back in her chair and let out a small, satisfied burp. She wanted to rest her hands on her abundant food baby and give herself a much needed belly rub, but she thought of the dress and reached for some napkins instead. It was when she was wiping the evidence of her wanton feast off of her slender hands that she noticed it.

The Diet Coke.

She had taken a few sips of her beverage, but had largely ignored it in favor of the burger and its companions. Now it stood alone, the last mountain for her to climb. Did she need to finish it? No. Was it a bad idea to attempt such a feat after all she had already eaten? Yes. Her strained stomach was already on the borderline of being painfully full. But was she going to finish? She always did. She had a reputation to uphold, even if it was just for herself. Her pride was on the line.

With a steel gaze set on her challenge, Ariel picked up the Diet Coke and brought it to her face. She wrapped her lips around the straw and began to suck, and suck, and suck. Like an expert, like a champion, she sucked the Diet Coke down until she heard the satisfying sound of the air bubbling through the dregs of her drink. A proud sense of accomplishment filled Ariel almost as much as the feast that she had just consumed.

After sucking down the remains of her Diet Coke, she let the large cup drop to the floor (spilling the ice and creating another mess for Kelly to clean up later) and let out another burp. Unlike before, this one was absolutely massive. It was loud and unladylike and decorated with the smell of greasy burger meat and onions. And it was immediately followed by a second one, like an aftershock after eating such a greasy, calorie laden feast. Ariel was glad that nobody else was around to hear her outbursts, she was already a little bit ashamed of herself, not for all the food she had eaten, but for the unpleasant expulsions of gas. It was like her one true flaw in that moment. But at least the food had been delicious, so the minor embarrassment from burping was worth it.

Finally content, Ariel brought her hands down to rest on her big bloated belly. She could feel how hard it was, how packed full of food and fizzy soda still bubbling around inside her.

Ariel groaned as she pushed herself up from her seat and then waddled, thanks to the weight of her bloated belly, over to the full length mirror to see just what she had done to herself.

She looked like a pregnant lady with her belly pushed out and straining the seams of her custom fitted dress. It was comical the way her previously slim stomach now stuck out in front of her. The food baby that filled it now made it tight as a drum. Ariel even tested that comparison with a few taps of her fingers, something that elicited another burp thanks to all of the gas from the soda bubbling up inside her. With a groan, Ariel dug her fingers into her stomach to ease it with a bit of a massage, laughing while she did so.

“What a charmed life I lead,” was the thought that ran through her head as her hands massaged her belly.

Slowly, she peeled off the dress, revealing her near perfect body with its one flaw being the now exaggeratedly bloated belly that she temporarily possessed. It didn’t even stick out past her generous boobs, but it still protruded quite a bit almost like a real pot belly. To remind herself of just how hot she was, Ariel turned so she could admire the reflection of her perfect perky ass which was of course untouched by all the food she had just eaten. Then she turned back around and rubbed her hands over her bloated belly as she let loose another big burp. She cradled her burger gut as she fished around for some silk pajamas. 

The silk pajamas were both gorgeous and luxuriously comfortable, perfect for someone of Ariel’s high status and standards. She loved admiring herself in the mirror looking as perfect in these pajamas as she did in everything else.

Then-

For a moment, she blinked and her reflection was entirely different.

For a moment she looked in the mirror and what was staring back at her was an absolutely obese hog of a woman, a rather rotund Ariel wearing food stained silk pajamas with her fat spilling out of them. The seams along her thighs had split to make room for her saddlebags. The sheer size of her globular gut and meaty love handles created a mighty muffin top of fat that spilled over the overtaxed waistband of her pajamas. But it wasn’t just that. The fat of her blubber belly also oozed through the gaps between buttons that her girthy gut had also caused. And not all of the buttons were there either. Some had clearly been blown off. Ariel’s face was fat and piggish, covered in food.

What was even worse, was that this big lumbering slob of an Ariel still had hunger in her eyes. She looked absolutely desperate for more food. She was a pathetic, helpless fatty. Looking in the mirror, Ariel could almost hear the rumbling of ceaseless hunger coming from her fat reflection. She could practically hear the pig that she was looking at oinking. This version of Ariel was so clearly a fat figure deserving of mockery.

Ariel might not have been a die-hard gym rat, but she was still somewhat active (if you considered flaunting her body on the beach sunbathing and going out clubbing in expensive, and tiny, designer dresses being active.) She sometimes went for walks when she wasn’t ordering around Kelly to just get her stuff for her. This version of her, this ghastly, grotesquely obese reflection, looked like a lifelong couch potato, a hog who did nothing but stuff her face day in and day out. She was disgusting in every way imaginable to Ariel. This reflection of her was her worst nightmare. It was everything she had ever laughed at and hated and more.

It should have been horrifying. Instead it just made her laugh as she shook her head and her reflection turned back to normal.

“It’s funny,” she said, this time thinking out loud. 

She looked back down at her food baby, back to her normal reflection, and then back down to her bloated stomach once again as she probed it with her hands.

“If people saw me like this it might be embarrassing. What a bad, bad, naughty little piglet they’d call me. They’d think I was a nasty little slob, a hot woman who had lost total control and was on her way to being a complete fatty. But they’ll never see my little food baby, my naughty little secret. I’ll just take a nap and this will all be gone. I might even treat myself to a milkshake later to celebrate. I’m perfect. Everything is perfect.”

But things would not be perfect forever. 

Tired from her feasting, Ariel drifted off into a pleasant nap. 

Later that night, an anxiously sleeping Kelly would dream of revenge. 

In her dream, Kelly was thin. Gone was the pot belly that had plagued her, the thick thunder thighs that were starting to rub together when she walked and the wide hips and broad backside that occasionally knocked things over when she wasn’t careful. Kelly was as slim and sexy as she was back when she was an eighteen year old cheerleader during her senior year of high school before her metabolism crashed, before she began her journey as a hopeless yo-yo dieter destined to be stepped on by others.

Back then Kelly’s life had felt full of so much promise. She was the one destined to conquer and control others, that was until her waistline widened, her pants ripped and her confidence cracked. After that it was all downhill, a spiral that led her to being Ariel’s dedicated yet abused toady. It was a bitter pill to swallow every day knowing that at one point she seemed on track to have a life so close to Ariel’s, and now she was just working for her as a fat underling.

But none of that mirror in the dream. In the dream she didn’t have a pot belly that bounced in front of her. She didn’t struggle with breasts that gave her back problems or the start of a double chin that always seemed to make itself known anytime someone was taking a candid picture of her. In the dream she was perfect.

The same could not be said for Ariel.

In the dream, things were quite reversed. Whereas Kelly had been the fat one, the pudgy and pouting assistant, and Ariel had been the slim, sexy and confident model, now the shoe was on the other fat foot. For every pound Kelly had lost, Ariel had gained it and then some.

Ariel’s previously flat tummy, was now a thick bulging pot belly with a generous roll of fat that hung over the waistband of her pants. Her unearned abs, once the ultimate symbol of her privilege, something she possessed without any effort or discipline were now gone. Her spongy stomach, no longer trim and taut, now looked like it deserved too. Her gut was globular, a sack of fat that pushed against the buttons of the blouse that she was wearing and oozed through the gaps that it created. Her trim waistline had widened out considerably thanks to the appearance of two thick love handles that hung like fatty slabs of meat from her side. The girth of her gut and love handles together forced the bottom of the blouse to rise up and expose her flabby flesh to the world. The lower roll of Ariel’s belly was clearly visible as it spilled out from underneath her blouse stretch marks and all. She sported a prominent pot belly that proudly introduced itself as it jiggled in front of her. Even the slightest bit of movement made her tubby tummy wobble like jello.

The breasts that Ariel had been so proud of had grown as well of course. But they were greatly outpaced by her blubbery belly. Her breasts were now massive mounds of flabby flesh that sagged downward onto the shelf of her globular gut. They were sacks of stretch mark covered fat that swung like pendulums when she walked. The flesh quivered with the slightest of movements, and her boobs put a massive amount of strain on the buttons of her blouse which gave a great view of her canyon of cleavage as a result. Her boobs had quite a lot of bounce in them. But she could never be proud of their size again thanks to the prodigious girth of her pot belly. Now all they could do was put strain on her fat back, a back that was also covered in rolls just like the rest of her flabby body.

Her previously toned thighs had thickened as well. They no longer gave Ariel the look of an athlete. Rather, they were weak looking thighs thickened by soft, lumpy flesh. Her thunder thighs had a cottage cheese like quality thanks to the cellulite that ravaged her once lean legs. These were the thighs she deserved. Ariel certainly hadn’t earned her muscular thighs by working out. They were an unfair advantage gifted to her by a cruel and uncaring universe, a privilege that had spoiled her rotten. These flabby thunder thighs that she was now sporting fit much better with the lazy and indulgent lifestyle she had treated herself too for far too long. These were the kind of thighs that stretched the seams of pants to the limit with their sloppy saddlebags. Her thick thighs shook, and the fat slapped together with each ponderous step. 

The fat in her legs dripped downward, and it was not just her thighs that had gotten swollen with fat. Even her calves and ankles had grown to the point where a future filled with cankles was clear and imminent. Her feet had grown fatter as well and were no longer suitable for being showcased in stilettos thanks to her plump sausage toes. Her fatter, wider feet were not confined to more comfortable and significantly less fashion forward footwear that better fit someone with her fatter figure. They were big and bloated just like the rest of her.

Ariel’s ass had also grown to the point of being the kind of broad swinging shelf of fat that was more than capable of knocking things off of tables. Each of her previously toned cheeks with their unearned perkiness had been replaced by sloshing sacks of sagging fat. Her butt had ballooned with each of her chunky cheeks covered in cellulite and full of the flabby fat that had turned her perfect posterior into a doughy dumper. Her bloated blubber butt was a clear point of humiliation as it fought to pop out of the back of her overtaxed pants. Once she had the appropriately head turning ass of a popular and successful model. Now she had a wide load ass with the sag of a broken down mack truck. Nobody could possibly mistake her for an athlete with the ass of a lifelong couch potato. Her globular glutes far better suited her situation than the toned and beautifully round rump that she had lucked herself into. 

In the same vein of her blubbery butt and her lumpy legs, Ariel’s arms had also fallen victim to her indulgent lifestyle and now lacked any signs of being lithe or muscular. They were flabby limbs with wobbling bingo wings. The fat that had lumped itself onto her previously toned biceps now threatened to roll over her elbows. They were soft as marshmallows and sagged like overused pillows. Even her wrists had grown thicker with fat, and her arms now culminated with chubby hands that had sausage fingers to match her sausage toes. They were the hands of a greedy fatty, everything that Ariel actually was. She looked like the kind of person whose chubby fingers were constantly groping for food, snatching up french fries and tearing off slices of pizza on her way to working through an entire pie. There was nothing delicate about her anymore. They were not model arms. The only people who would want to take pictures of them were fat fetishests eager to enjoy Ariel’s downfall. Her fat, weak arms with her blubbery bingo wings would be perfect for them. They were the arms of someone who spent her days greedily stuffing her face.

That face had seen better days. The face of a model was gone and had been replaced by one more akin to a pig. Every part of her once flawless face was covered in bloated, greasy fat. Her previously high cheekbones had disappeared under layers of fat that made her cheeks chubby and gave her jiggly jowls. Her previously defined jawline was gone as well, lost to the swelling of a doughy double chin that drooped downward and covered a sizable portion of her thickened neck. Even her forehead seemed to have gained a bit of added fat giving her a much duller look. Her nose had grown wider and developed a far more bulbous nature that truly contributed to her piggish nature. Her eyes added to that as well. Thanks to the chunky nature of her cheeks, her bloated face with its greasy skin made her eyes look beady. But her eyes had changed far more than that.

Ariel looked lost. Her eyes betrayed her lack of confidence. It was clear that behind them she lacked the same cunning and intelligence she had once possessed. Now she had the eyes of a submissive loser.

She had the eyes of someone who was afraid.

Kelly loved it.

She thought back to every cruel word Ariel had ever said to her, every judgmental glare, every humiliating errand she was forced to perform. She remembered all the times that Ariel made her look at her, made her practically worship her body. Kelly remembered all the times that Ariel went out of her way to flaunt her figure and stuff her face in front of her just to make her jealous. Most importantly, she remembered the feeling of every time Ariel ever touched her fat, every poke, slap, pinch and jiggle.

Now it was her turn to walk around Ariel, to be the shark circling its prey. She was salivating at the thoughts of what she could do to her former boss now that she was the one in control, now that she was the slim and sexy one and Ariel was reduced to the doughy, dumpy assistant.

She started with a flick of Ariel’s flabby belly.

“Not exactly in tip top shape, are we?”

Then she gleefully pinched Ariel’s love handles.

“Someone’s looking mighty hefty here.”

Kelly’s hand danced along the fat rolls of Ariel’s lower back and then slid downward until it cupped one of the chunky cheeks that made up her well cushioned ass. Her hand was like a scale as she weighed the full mass of the flabby ass cheek. She felt the fat ooze through her fingers which brushed against her cellulite. She lifted her hand up and down, sizing the fat girl’s fat ass out and and watching as the movement made the rest of Ariel’s flabby body undulate in time.

“Yup. Definitely a lot of heft, a lot of weight, a lot of FAT. You’ve got one fat ass here, Wide Load. Some real chunky cheeks, a nice doughy dumper.”

She kept massaging Ariel’s ass cheeks. Her little scale game was her favorite. She kept playing with them like her hands were scales that just wouldn’t balance like her ass was lumpy and lopsided with fat. She loved the feel of the softness, the way the fat squished between her fingers. She loved the feeling of that fat ass, and the smell of Kelly’s fear as she played with her blubbery cheeks.

It made her moan.

Kelly suddenly let go of the blubber butt cheek and let it bounce. Then, after it had jiggled enough and settled back into place, she gave Ariel a hard spank causing her piggy to squeal and the fat to fly all over again. She couldn’t get enough of it. She loved the sound her hands made as they slapped the flabby flesh of Ariel’s ass cheeks. She loved the way they bounced with each spank, and so she did it over and over and over again. It wasn’t just that Areil’s butt was so bloated and perfect for spanking and playing with. An even bigger thrill came from the fact that she was powerless and unable to stop Kelly from doing whatever she wanted.

And she wanted so much.

SPANK!

“Suey! You really should be ashamed of yourself, letting yourself go like this. You just couldn’t stop stuffing your greedy face, could you? Had to have that double cheeseburger. Had to have fries AND onion rings. Who does that? A greedy glutton, a pig. That’s what you are now, a big fat pig. You’re the disgusting one. You’re the blubbery one. You’re the fatty, Fatso.”

Her hand poked and flicked at the folds of fat on Ariel’s back as it worked its way back to her blubbery belly. Then her hand sunk into the saggy flesh as she gave Ariel’s gooey gut and harsh squeeze.

“Look at this gut! Look at this! This is what you get for stuffing your face constantly with fattening food, thinking you could get away with it unlike the rest of us. This is the price of being so greedy, a big fat pot belly. Eat like a pig and look like a pot-bellied pig, you sloppy sow. You wanted this. You wanted to gorge yourself, to eat like an absolute hog. Well, here you are, piggy. Happy now? Or just hungry?”

Kelly dug in with both hands. Her fingers squeezed harder as the fat oozed through her excited fingers. She began to heave the heavy belly up and down. As the sack of fat shook, so did the rest of Ariel’s fat body. Her breasts swung from side to side. Her flabby thunder thighs and fat ass cheeks flopped about and clapped together. Her arm fat quivered and even her fat face with her jiggly jowls and doughy double chin wobbled.

“You deserve this, Butterball. You deserve to be this fat fucking pig. You deserve to be lugging around all this blubber. Hell, lugging your fat body around now is more of a workout than you ever got before. Too bad for you that it’ll all be worthless because you can’t stop stuffing your face. All the food you ate, all the bad karma you racked up, all the lack of actual effort that you failed to put in because you happened to be a genetic freak who hit the lottery, it’s all coming back to bite you in your big fat ass, and I’m glad. I love seeing you like this. This is exactly what you were meant to be, fat and miserable, a big blubbery baby, a fat loser. This- This is what you’ve actually earned!”

Kelly let all of her frustrations out on Ariel’s fattened body as she continued to shake it. 

“You’re a pig. You’re a pig! You’re a big fat greedy pig! And I want to hear you act like one. So pink for me, piggy. Oink. Oink!”

There was no hesitation on Ariel’s part. The submissive fatty had no will to do anything but what she was told just like the good little fat girl that she was. 

“Oink. Oink,” she practically whispered. 

“Louder!”

“Oink! Oink!” she snorted in fear. 

Ariel tried to protest, but her words were just more helpless squeals. She tried to run away, but her gait was nothing more than a slow ponderous waddle, and Kelly was quick to catch up.

“I didn’t say I was done with you, Piggy. Oink some more. Oink some more.”

“Oink! Oink!” Ariel kept doing as she was told, her eyes wide with fear and helplessness as Kelly’s hands went back to probing her body, pinching her fat, jiggling it.

Kelly pressed herself up against Ariel, practically rubbed herself all over Ariel’s fat flabby body as if she was a cat. She purred with delight as she enjoyed her revenge. Ariel’s oinking was like music to her ears

And as Kelly finally rolled over and settled into a good night’s sleep, she did so with a smile on her face, hoping for a future that was still a long way off. 

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

Want to read chapter 2 of this story? It's right HERE.

Want to read chapter 1 of the spinoff story "The Book of Kelly's Belly" and find out how Kelly went from a hot cheerleader and model to the fat assistant you see in this story? You can read it right HERE.

Want to read more about the making of this story and how you can contribute to it's continuation? Keep reading.

So yup, this was supposed to be the start of a commission that I got screwed out of money on. The whole story of that has more or less already been told on my Discord. But the point is that I was very unsure of what to do with this piece because the whole thing was very demotivating.

Then I had multiple patrons suggest that I post it here and suggest that I ask for more money to see its continuation. I don't normally like doing that kind of thing because you all pay good money to be here already, and I don't want to make you feel like I'm holding a story for ransom. But this was an exceptionally shitty experience and an exceptionally demotivating thing, plus I was really counting on the extra funds I was expecting plus the hundreds of dollars I lost having to give a refund for something I think I did some of my best work on.

So yeah, if you read this and would like to see it continue, especially if you would like to see it get to a truly epic length, I'm going to need more in terms of likes, comments and most important money which can be sent to my PayPal right here: https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/BSwriter

And if you don't want to do that, that's totally okay. I will just take that as a sign to work on other project that you will hopefully all love.

Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed the story, and I hope to bring you more soon. (Spoiler: I have at least one more chapter coming and more if the money is there for it.)

"Nightmare Pigs 2" Chapter 2

Here's chapter 2 of "Nightmare Pigs 2" in which a vain cheerleader gets fattened. Just like the early parts of this story, it's a bit tamer than the original "Nightmare Pigs", but after this one I plan on having more slob elements and maybe releasing separate clean cuts for people.

Enjoy!

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“Cheerleaders aren’t supposed to be fat,” barked Monica as she shot her former friend Jolie a glare and then closer like a tiger ready to pounce.

Jolie didn’t stand a chance as Monica’s slender fingers reached toward her. She tried to pull away, but she was stuck like a deer in headlights as Monica’s finger pressed into pudge.

“This is disgusting, Jolie,” she said as she sneered and dug her finger into the small amount of belly fat that was peaking over the waistband of Jolie’s cheer skirt.

To emphasize her point, she snuck her finger under Jolie’s little starter belly and bounced it up and down.

“We were supposed to rule this squad, this school together. And you’ve gone and turned yourself into one of those post-homecoming heifers, Jiggly Jolie.”

Monica slapped Jolie’s belly with the back of her hand.

“Well, I’ve got news for you!” yelled Monica as she spun around to address the rest of the senior members of her cheer squad.

She began to give her speech like she was Patton to the US Army, and she made sure she was standing back in front of Jiggly Jolie when she was done.

“Just because it’s senior year doesn’t mean we’re going to let you cost. This cheer squad isn’t going to tolerate fatties, not while I’m at its head. You wanna get senioritis and let your grades slip, fine. But let your figures slip? Let those lazy pounds pile on? That fat isn’t going to fly.”

Monica pinched a roll of Jolie’s fat and twisted it hard. 

“This FAT doesn’t fly. You’re off the squad, Jolie.”

Several cheerleaders laughed. A few others just stood there in stunned silence too terrified of Monica to do anything. And Jolie? Jolie just started crying. 

This pleased Monica to no end, and it was a moment she would replay in her dream over and over again. 

A dream that was about to turn into a nightmare. 

Monica had always been a spoiled brat. In many ways she had taken after her older sister. She was gorgeous and carried herself with a sense of earned superiority. She saw how her sister hung with the popular girls and trampled all others, and she modeled herself after that. 

She also quite literally modeled part time. As soon as she turned eighteen she started picking up small gigs with an eye toward building a portfolio and hitting it big once she finished college. She was smart enough to know that her beauty would get her extremely far but a degree would maximize her potential. It wasn’t enough for Monica to be beautiful. She wanted to dominate. She wanted to rule the world. 

Of course, Monica also reveled in her beauty. She loved to flaunt her body and was constantly showing off and comparing herself to others favorably. She loved to put others down, especially fat girls who she saw as greedy, lazy, and generally disgusting. The deserved every ounce of humiliation their many pounds had earned them.

That’s why she ruled her cheer squad with such an iron fist. It was her first opportunity to really manage others and she wasn’t going to accept failure from them. Her underlings were a reflection of her, of her skills as a leader. So it was either stay in shape or ship out. There was no tolerance for fatties, not even fatties who were once friends. Fatties were no friends of hers. 

Perfection. That’s what Monica was. That’s what she demanded of others. 

Monica replayed the moment in her head again, her dismissal of Jolie. She watched as Jolie’s soft pot belly bounced up and down with every new sob. She laughed and pushed her aside so she could lead the remaining members of the senior squad through their practice with Jolie forced to just sit there and watch. 

And Scarlet was watching too. 

The Nightmare Witch had been taking it all in, weighing Monica in judgment and finding her lacking which meant she found her worthy of fattening. 

It started while Monica was leading her squad mates through a simple cheer with some basic jumps and kicks. That’s when she heard one of her subordinates called out. 

“Hey, Monica. Looks like you’ve got a little more bounce there than usual.”

“Yeah, you’re looking a little hefty there.”

Then Monica could feel it, movement she had never felt before, the bouncing of her belly. She could feel the way new flesh pushed against the waistband of her skirt. She could feel the tug of her skin as her new belly bounced up and down into counterpoint to her jumping rhythm. Monica started to feel her toned butt cheeks bouncing, getting looser. It felt almost like a pop and then a sudden plop like I tired that had blown and then flopped around as a saggy mess with nothing left to support it. Her once perky butt was now bouncing to its own rhythm, and her jumping lost a lot of its height as her butt grew heavier and weighed her down.

On top of that, Monica felt the distinct sensation, and sound, of her thighs slapping together. Her thigh gap was gone, filled in by fat, and the fat of her now thicker thighs slapped together with a wet sound, the combination of fat and sweat. By the time she finally had to stop, she doubled over, and her hands sank into the flesh of her new thunder thighs.

Behind her there was lots of snickering.

Monica tried to drown it out, tried to start again, but as she went up for another jump, she felt a sudden stitch in her side. She reached to rub it out and found her hands kneading a soft doughy love handle, a small piece of unpleasant and unwanted chub that she couldn’t help but pinch in disbelief.

This couldn’t be happening. Monica was a beauty queen, the head cheerleader. She had to be perfect. This couldn’t be real.

But the continued laughter of her teammates confirmed that it was.

Monica could feel their gazes on her, and she could feel that they had a good deal more of her to gaze at.

“Look at her. Someone’s getting kinda chubby. Don’t you think?”

“I think so. It looks like somebody hasn’t followed her own diet advice.”

“Too many late night desserts perhaps? Maybe someone’s been sneaking snacks.”

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a greedy little piglet here.”

“Cheerleaders aren’t supposed to be fat.”

The hair on the back of Monica’s next stood up and she felt like she was on fire as she tentatively touched her tubbier middle with her hands.

“Yeah. You feel that chubs? You’re getting tubby.”

“Getting fat.”

“L-ladies, I’m f-fine. I’m fine!” cried Monica as she tried desperately to maintain her composure. But it was clear to the sharks that were circling her that she was cracking under the weight of her new body weight.

“Look! Look!”

Monica tried to go back into her routine again but the fat on her thunder thighs weighed her down like sandbags. Her saddlebags flapped uselessly as she tried to dazzle with high kicks that now looked absolutely pathetic. She was already starting to work up a sweat and look sloppier by the moment as her desperation grew along with her waistline.

The waistband of her skirt began to tighten further as Monica continued to try and jump and kick. Her belly, once small, lurched outward in a show flab. She jumped and it burst forth fully over taking the waistband of her skirt and flopping about like a fat fish. She tried to be graceful and exude confidence, but that was difficult as she felt the wind against her bare cellulite covered butt cheeks when her skirt blew up and exposed them. It was a chill that ran up her spine, but still she tried to deny it.

“Lift me. Lift me, damnit! I can still fly!”

Monica set herself for an aerial, but instead her fellow cheerleaders just began to poke at her pudge, pinching at her belly and love handles. Every inch of her was being inspected and as each moment passed there were new inches to inspect.

“Who are you kidding, Tubs?”

“Your gut wants to keep you grounded.”

“You really want to see if pigs can fly?”

“With all this blubber, I’m afraid of what would happen when you came back down to earth.”

“If we could even get you up there in the first place, Fatso.”

Monica felt there hands groping at her flesh. She felt the way their hands massaged the flab of her thunder thighs, sinking into the fat, kneading it.

“I don’t think you’re going anywhere. Piggy.”

Suddenly Jolie was standing in front of her, slim and gorgeous Jolie. She ran her finger across Monica’s chubby cheek and playfully wobbled her double chin. Then she ran her finger across Monica’s exposed blubber belly and circled her deep belly button before reaching down and giving Monica’s butt a hard pinch.

“This fat doesn’t fly.”

Monica was stunned. She staggered backward, pushing the hands away from her and fell onto her fat ass. The extra cushion did nothing to ease the humiliation that she felt as her fat but splashed into the mud. Her uniform was ruined as she rolled over trying to get to her feet which was when-

RIIIIIIIIIIIP!

The skirt ripped off and fell to the ground exposing her completely. The ladies couldn’t resist spanking her blubbery cellulite covered cheeks.

“Look at her wallowing in the mud like a real piggy!”

“Fitting seeing her fat ass on all fours like this.”

“Oink for us, Piggy! Oink!”

Monica tried to plead for mercy, but all that came out was a loud squealing-

“OOOOOOOOIIIIIIINK! OINK! Oink? Oink. Oink! OINK!”

She squealed and she squealed as she felt her fat being squeezed. She squealed until everything around her went black, and when she came to again, she was sitting in the cafeteria almost entirely alone.

Almost.

Scarlet stood in front of her, one the other side of a cafeteria table. And between them were trays and trays of food.

“You’ve been bad, Monica. You’ve been very, very bad. Vain, selfish, mean.”

“I-I… who are you?”

Scarlet tapped her elongated fingernails against the table and let out a soft unnerving chuckle.

“Oh, Monica. You’ve set me up so easily to say something like ‘Your worst nightmare’, but I do so hate hate such things. So instead, I think I’ll just skip right to feeding you.”

She picked up a cold piece of cafeteria pizza and held it toward Monica’s mouth.

“Open wide, piglet.”

Monica tried to fight it, but it was impossible. Like a rusty door, her mouth unhinged slowly, and soon the cold greasy pizza was shoved into it. She felt herself compelled to chew and chew and swallow only to then open her mouth to receive another bite, and another, and another. The food kept coming as Scarlet kept bringing it to her lips and her body kept responding by eating and fattening.

Thighs got thicker. The once trim and toned limbs that had her leaping through the air were now like weighted bags of blubbery fat. She could feel them stretching out, pressing together and then spreading along the cafeteria bench. The bench was so cold at first against her exposed, cellulite covered flesh, but the body heat created by her large amount of blubber soon over took the cold, and she was in fact sweating quite a lot as she ate.

As she ate her trim middle gave way completely. Her small love handles expanded further into meaty slabs of fat. They hung over the waistband of her underwear. (The still messy Monica was not not wearing her broken cheer skirt.) Her gut surged forward and spilled across her fat lap. It reached for the table almost as if it was trying to get to the food directly. She developed a squishy spare tire that covered any hint of her once toned tummy. She now just had a big blubbery gut, a sack of fat that was growing larger with each new bite of food.

And there were many bites of food.

Monica’s ass got bigger. Her cushiony cheeks caused her to rise off the cafeteria bench further as they ballooned with blubber. Her butt was once a perky head turner, and now it was an incredibly flabby posterior plump with fat and wide enough to be prone to knocking things off of tables. Her butt was sure to be an anchor making walks a difficult task. That difficulty would be doubled by the girth of her thunder thighs ( upon which her ass cheeks were doomed to sag and slap against) thus causing her to have a slow an awkward waddle, quite the change for someone used to bounding around with a lot of energy.

From now on Monica’s energy would only be committed to eating. And that’s just what she did. She started to eat on her own, unaided by Scarlet. She scarfed down mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, letting that gravy dribble down her chin and stain her shirt. Monica was becoming quite the messy eater just as Scarlet intended. No more poise, just piggishness.

After the mashed potatoes came the french fries, starch after starch. These fries were dipped in a milkshake that she also found herself glugging down. The milkshake helped chase the greasy cheeseburgers that went with the fries, a series of cheap sliders that went down easy, coating her tongue with grease and adding to the swelling of her body. That body of hers just kept getting fatter, wider, greasier looking. Her skin started to take on a sweaty sheen as she continued to swell.

Some of that swelling went to her breasts. They grew heavier and began to sag, losing their previous pertness. They reached down toward her belly more than they surged outward, and while they made her top quite a bit tighter, they were nothing compared to the gut that had long since turned her cheerleading crop top into little more than a sports bra.

As Monica kept eating she was very aware of the growth her body was going through. She just was powerless to stop herself as she watched her arms reach for more food. As her arms did just that they grew thicker, flabbier. Whatever muscle might have still been there was buried under blubber. She ate buttery biscuits and grew buttery bingo wings. She tore into buffalo chicken tenders and her arms kept getting bigger, flabbier. They shook more and more. Her hands, covered in grease and various sauces, grew chubby as well, and her fingers grew fat and clumsy looking. They were still perfect for stuffing her face with food.

And that face, which had until this point stayed mostly untouched began to fill out with fat. Her cheekbones were buried by chub. She grew jiggly jowls and a much more prominent and doughy double chin. Her face grew round with all the fat that now filled it, and all of that bite jiggled with each bite.

Her entire body jiggled with each bite.

And she just kept eating like a pig.

More and more food went into her mouth until Scarlet was finally satisfied and Monica was able to finish her meal with a massive unladylike burp. Her hands pressed into the sagging blubber of her belly. It was an incredible contradiction to have a belly so taut with food and yet still so squishable, but that was the case thanks to all the layers of soft, pliant fat that now made up her gut. All Monica could do after she realized she couldn’t push the fat back in was sit there and moan and cry like a big fat baby.

“You’re lucky you know,” mused Scarlet as she looked down at her latest victim.

She leaned forward and gave Monica’s massive belly a few taunting and playful pats. 

“You’re young. You can still learn from this, so know that I could have made you much fatter and say thank you.”

Monica looked up at Scarlet. For a moment there was still a bit of pride in her, a bit of fight, but then she burped again and the horrifying thought of somehow being made even fatter hit her like a sack of bricks.

“Th-thank you.”

“Thank you for what?”

“Thank you for….”

“For teaching you an important lesson, for making you fat but not as fat as I could have and not as fat as you probably deserve to be.”

Monica sobbed, but she knew what she needed to say. She knew she had to be a good obedient fat girl now.

“Thank you for teaching me an important lesson, for making me fat but not as fat as you could have and not as fat as I probably deserve to be.”

Scarlet pinched one of Monica’s chubby cheeks.

“Good piggy,” she said and then tweaked Monica’s double chin for good measure.

“Now, I didn’t say you won’t get fatter on your own though. You’ve got a fat girl’s appetite so let’s see if you can exhibit that thing you were always telling people to have, self-control. That might be difficult to do if you’re hanging around your sister.”

Monica’s eyes went wide and her face blanched at the realization.

“Oh yeah, I really did a number on her. She’s quite the butterball now. Still not the worst though. Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of visits left, and I’m saving that for them.”

Scarlet gave Monica’s big blubbery belly a squeeze and a good long jiggle. Then she snapped her fingers and the remains of Monica’s cheer outfit was replaced by an overtaxed sweatsuit. The cheerleader who was a model and always prided herself on looking like the height of fashion made to look like a complete fat slob.

“When you wake up, you won’t remember any of this. That’s the good news for you. You’ll think everything is as it always was and this was nothing but a dream. You’ll only remember the truth in your nightmares. Now, enjoy your senior year. I think you’ll find it’s far different than what you imagined it would be.”

And with that, Scarlet disappeared and the school cafeteria was filled with people, people all turning and laughing at Monica.

Scarlet was pleased with her early results of the evening. She was warmed up, and now she was ready to get down and dirty.

"Extra Slices #5: Fat Making Notebooks and Fattening Sisters"

Here are two new stories totaling over 4,100 words for my Even More BS tier patrons. Thank you for all your support!

“After the Fat Making Notebook: Selene the Sow’s New Life”

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Selene could barely catch her breath. Whether that was a result of her anxiety or the fact that she was now at least one hundred pounds heavier than she had been just moments ago she could not know. 

But she knew she couldn’t run anymore. 

Her lungs were already giving up. 

Her fat feet were killing her. 

Every step had been agony, and the moment she stopped it all came flooding back to her, the way her flabby thunder thighs were rubbing together and chafing, the weight of her large sagging breasts swinging around in front of her, slapping against the blubber belly that bounced which ever way it wanted. She remembered the way her flabby ass cheeks bounced around and slapped against the backs of her fat thighs while threatening to blow her skirt away completely. 

The fat folds, of which there were many that made up her body, all flapped about as she attempted to run while ultimately only achieving what one might generously call a moderate waddle. Now she was stuck sucking air and sweating like a pig with her fat body bursting out of clothes that seemingly fit her by magic alone. She found herself doubling over. 

And that’s when the real trouble began. 

Selena could feel the disgustingly squishy quality of her dat thunder thighs as her chubby hands with their clumsy sausage fingers sank into the soft flabby flesh. It was like sinking into overused memory foam. It felt like she was slowly sinking into quicksand and could feel the plush fat of her thigh oozing through the gaps between and starting to roll over her fat players. But that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was that she could feel her belly, the great big massive sack of fat that was now rolling like a waterfall of flab over the waistband of her busted pencil skirt pressing against the front of her fat thighs. It was so big that it touch so much of her, this disgusting goo of fat. Her blubbery belly even pressed against her arms and her breasts. There was no getting away from it. With every heavy heaving breath that she took her belly undulated in waves and pressed against different parts of her body constantly. It was a hellish reminder of how much her slim and sexy body had changed. And it drove her crazy just feeling how much of a fat cow she was.

Yet, there was still so much more damage to survey.

Tentatively, Selene reached behind her, something that was not easy given both the fatness of her arms and wideness of her hips. And the sunk her chubby fingers into the cushy fat that composed the fleshy orbs of her fat flabby ass. She could feel the fat through the threadbare fabric of her pencil skirt (clearly pushed passed its limits). Her ass was no longer the hot head turner that it used to be. Now it was just a hefty mass of useless, sagging, cellulite covered fat. She felt particularly pathetic as she continued to press into the plush flesh that was once perfectly taut and muscular. It was hard to believe that she had been changed so dramatically in an instant from a hottie with a hard body to a hog with a wide load for an ass. 

The snickers of several passersby who caught sight of Selene massaging her blubber butt caused her to stop her inspection. 

It wasn’t fair. Selene had spent her entire life working so hard to be thin. Her beauty had made her so popular, so successful. And now it felt like her mind was fighting through a sea of jumbled up memories. It was like her brain was as powerful as the rest of her obese body. How did everything go wrong?

No. She knew that. It was Asami, that stupid chubby loser with her stupid notebook. She had done something. Something magic? Was that even possible? Could a notebook really be magical. Until a minute or two ago, Selene would have told you that that was crazy bullshit and called you a nerdy loser. Of course, that would have been back when she was still a slim and sexy vixen and not an obese, winded hog. 

Asami!

Selene turned her head around (and felt her double chin wobble as she did so) and she saw here, Asami, walking away in the opposite direction. Selene’s thighs slapped together as she took a few hasty, lumbering steps as her body swung back into a humiliating waddle before she soon gave up. 

It turns out the fat girl that Selene once used to make fun of was now too fast for her even when she was moving at just a casual pace. Selene decided that was probably for the best though. She wouldn’t have even known what to do with Asami had she caught up with her?

Would she make things worse?

Pursuing Asami stopped as suddenly as it had begun which was convenient because trying to chase her would have just left the obese Selene winded again. 

A plan, that’s what Selene needed. It was bad enough that she had gone from fit to fat, but she needed to figure out how bad things had gotten, how much her reality had changed before she could even think about figuring out a way back. And she wanted more than anything to go back to being the slim and sexy woman that she knew she deserved to be. Being a fat girl was disgusting. It was her worst nightmare. It was everything she had hated and made fun of. It was-

“OOF!”

As she turned around she felt belly slam into something hard, or at least far harder than her soft flabby body. It took her a moment to realize what was happening at the slim figure that had slammed into her belly now bounced off of it like it was a rather cushiony spring. Selene couldn’t help but notice with jealousy the tight but generous curves of the woman’s rear end as she turned and bent over to pick up her cellphone. When the woman stood up and turned around again, she noticed who it was.

“Janelle?” Selene asked, tentatively.

“Holy shit!” responded Janelle.

And there was a bit of recognition, a bit of surprise in Janelle’s voice that strangely gave Selene a bit of hope that maybe things weren’t so bad after all. Janelle had been one of Selene’s good friends since college. They had been hanging out just last weekend at brunch with the girls. If she was surprised it would mean others would also know she shouldn’t be like this and then she could get hel-

“I mean, I heard you got fat, but this is crazy! Damn, you really let yourself go, huh?”

Shit. If Janelle had no memory of friendship and at least the last few years of hot Selene, but she knew Selene must have been hot at some point… how far did this go? How had things changed? When? Selene’s blubbery belly doubled over with anxiety. 

Selene’s thoughts were interrupted by the digging of Janelle’s index finger into the spongy flesh of her gelatinous gut.

“Damn, girl. From the rumors I heard, I figured you were pretty hefty, but this is way beyond that. You’re not just hefty, you’re a complete tub of lard, a real oinker. FAT!”

Janelle laughed and kept poking away as her judgmental eyes probed Selene’s flabby body.

“Seriously though, you need to look into getting some clothes that actually fit. Like, just admit to yourself that you're a full blown fatty, and get clothes that actually fit your fat ass and- well- fat everything. There’s just so much fat. Damn. I’m- Just- wow. And really, there’s nothing more pathetic than a fat cow like you trying to pretend she’s still thin and hot. Get it together, piggy. Stop cramming yourself into your hot girl clothes that you’re clearing burst out of, and get this fat body into some nice stretchy pants that you can keep growing into.”

Selene had dressed down many a fat girl just like this, but she had never dreamed she would ever be on the other side of it. She had been feeling like a stuffed pig since Asami had made her gain all of this weight, but somehow she was now even more self-conscious. And yet, as her anxiety rumbled in her stomach, she felt another sensation along with it. 

Hunger. 

There was an absurd thought given how fat she was, but somewhere in the back of her mind was the idea that food was good, food was needed, food would be such a comfort right now. 

It was that last bit that really scared Selene. It made sense that being so fat she would feel hungrier. But to be a comfort eater? That was real fat girl behavior. That was dangerous. 

And yet she couldn’t ignore it. 

Thoughts of delicious greasy burgers crossed her mind followed by a parade of cookies and cake and all of it floated on a river made of milkshake. The once slim Selene’s mouth was practically watering, ready to send drool running down her chins as she daydreamed about stuffing her fat face with food and-

“Well, this has been fun. But I’ve gotta run, Fatso. You do remember what running is. Don’t you, Tubs?”

Once again Selene’s thoughts had been interrupted by Janelle’s pointed barbs and her pointed fingers pinching her love handle.

“Just one more thing before I go.”

Janelle raised her phone and snapped a few quick humiliating photos of Selene.

“The girls are going to love this. Though maybe I won’t show them at brunch. Wouldn’t want them to lose their appetites. That’s not something you ever worry about do you, Fatty? Anyway, nice running in to you, loser. Have a nice day, Selene the Sow.”

And with that, Janelle was off leaving Selene there stunned and mulling over a new nickname that she had to admit felt very appropriate. Selene did indeed feel like a total pig, a fat useless, helpless, sow.

There had to be something Selene could do, but the only thing she could think of doing was going home and taken a nap. 

When had that thought popped into her head? Sure, this day had already been exhausting, but Selene was supposed to be a go getter. She was always so active, not lazy like a fat girl. And yet, now that she was a fat girl, lazy was exactly what she was starting to feel like. She knew she needed to figure out what was going on, but it was like her brain was telling her it wasn’t important. She just needed to sleep- and eat. 

Eating was the other thing her mind was constantly telling her to do now. 

At home she could do both. At home she could also at least try to figure out more answers. How has her home changed? 

Well, the first problem she realized is that her body innately wanted to take her in a new direction, toward a cheaper part of town which meant a cheaper apartment, one that was still annoyingly out of the way for her fat thighs to carry her too. She fought the urge to give in and call for a ride. At least she was going to get a little bit of exercise. 

Of course, the thoughts of eating couldn’t be ignored forever. Selene’s big greedy belly kept growling, gnawing at her. With each labored step of her slow waddle to her new cheap ass apartment, her hunger got harder to keep pushed to the back of her mind. It was a desire that burned within her, that called to her in a way she had never known when she was a slim and sexy bitch. She tried to maintain her self control. After all, self-control would be what separated her from the real fat girls of the world. 

But the hunger became too much. 

She found herself waddling into a local burger joint without even bothering to catch its name, and then she found herself ordering TWO double cheeseburgers, an order of fries AND an order of onion rings and a large soda.

It hurt that the burgers tasted so good, and it hurt even more that she was so easily able to fit two of them into her greedy gut. Her flabby stomach rolled onto her lap as she sat down, and the gap in her pencil skirt seemed to widen with each new bite. She groaned with with disgust and moaned with pleasure as the grease from the burgers ran down her chin. Each bite was juicy. Each bite was perfect.

Each bite was fattening.

Selene knew better, but she couldn’t stop herself. It was like she was a mechanical eating machine just moving a burger to her mouth for bite after bite. She never set it down. Whenever she switched to stuffing herself with fries or onion rings, she still held the burger in one hand and let the sauce and grease run down her chubby fingers as she shoved more food into her mouth with the other. Sometimes, she would have a burger in one hand, a handful of fries in the other, and she would be leaning over (with her cleavage slapping against the counter) to get a long sip of her large soda.

Two burgers went down. The fries were finished. The onion rings were over. And, after gulping down the rest of her large soda, Selene let loose an unladylike burp that was at once a sign of her satisfaction and a new cause of her horror.

She had just devoured a feast like a fat slob. She had made a total pig of herself and finished her meal off with a massive burp as if she was proud of the whole thing. That couldn’t happen. She needed to get things under control. She needed more answers.

Selene needed to get back to her apartment.

With her fat face hastily cleaned with some napkins, and a fair amount of grease missed, Selene wiped what crumbs she could off her bouse, shoved her fat ass off of the chair it was spilling over (with great effort marked by a tremendous grunt thanks to the fullness of her blubber belly) and waddled her way out of the store and toward her apartment building.

By the time she got there, she was thoroughly disgusted, by herself, by the dirty nature of this street and the shady nature of the front of the building, and by the fact that the already foul smelling elevator was broken and she was forced to drag her fat ass up the stairs. Still, she did what needed to be done and waddled up three flights of stairs, breaking quite the sweat and needing to stop multiple times to catch her breath along the way. 

Once she finally made it into her apartment, which immediately looked small and cramped and smelled of stale fast food and general foulness, she was caught off guard by a husky sounding voice coming from another room. 

“Bout time you’re back, babe. What do you want to do for dinner?”

Selene felt her stomach flip all over again. 

(To be continued....)

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“A Fortune Fattens Sisters”

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In the classic sense, Denise was Sharon’s little sister. In a literal sense, she was Sharon’s big sister.

And it was all Sharon’s fault.

Sharon was a star, a celebrated model/singer/actress, the kind of celebrity that was not a star in any one particular field but who had parlayed her beauty and the bit of talent that she possessed into a fair amount of fame across mediums thanks largely to an impressive social media following. Sharon was gorgeous and charismatic and people gravitated toward that.

She was also incredibly vain, fatphobic among many other failings, and frequently treated people that worked for her like shit.

This included her sister.

Whereas Sharon was always the family’s golden child, the shining star who could do no wrong, Denise was always second born second best. She served as Sharon’s second banana and fittingly ended up being her personal assistant. (Though she liked to think of herself as Sharon’s business manager, her sister always introduced her as “personal assistant”.) Still, Denise had smarts. She had skills. She was even beautiful.

Or at least she was, according to her sister, until she got fat.

And she got very fat.

It was all Sharon’s doing too. You see, Sharon couldn’t stand the idea of her sister stealing even a hint of spotlight away form her. If anything, she counted on her sister to make her look even better by comparison, and what better way to do that than with a fat and dumpy Denise? So Sharon did everything she could to encourage Denise’s bad habits, to turn her into a total stress eater with a schedule far too overloaded for things like the gym or planning and cooking healthy meals. She loved watching her sister balloon into a big ball of fat, and she loved the way her family and friends would look at Denise with disappointment and then look at her with even more adoration.

Yes. Because of her sister, Denise was a big fat ball of blubber. She had gone from being a rather slim, if not particularly toned woman, to a wheezing woman with a wide load of an ass that she dragged behind her as she waddled along. In front of her, she had a big fat apron of a belly that was constantly doing everything it could to burst out of her clothes. Her fat was hard to contain. It made moving around exhausting which meant that not only did she look fat when she was seen next to Sharon in pictures, but she looked sweaty and tired as well. 

And of course, this just made Sharon look all the better by comparison.

Sharon didn’t need any of this of course. She was already gorgeous with a rocking body full of curves and tight muscles. She had the lean body of a model while still being athletic enough to make herself into an action hero in the movies. She even frequently did her own stunts because it was another way for her to show off.

But part of Sharon just loved tormenting her little sister. She just loved to make herself better by keeping her sister down. She loved looking more glamorous as her sister constantly looked more fat and frumpy.

Denise was well aware of this, and she hated it. But she just couldn’t break any of her bad habits. She also needed work, and Sharon was her sister. As much as they annoyed and sometimes even despised each other, neither sister was ever going to say something outwardly, and so they continued this kind of cold war simmering between them. All the while, Denise just wanted Sharon to understand what it was like to be her, what it was like to be fat and frumpy and looked down upon.

And she would get just that after the two took a fateful trip to the fortune teller, Madame Zara where Sharon found herself receiving a very fattening fortune.

It was part of some stupid charity fair that Sharon felt forced to go too, and she entered Madame Zara’s tent with a clear look of disdain on her face. Madame Zara clocked that look and Sharon’s vanity immediately, and she dealt her cards and read them accordingly. 

“I see big things in your future and a reversal of roles. The older sister will become the bigger one, and the little one will be in charge.”

“Ha! Yeah right, you stupid old hag.”

It wasn’t until weeks later, with the fortune basically forgotten, that Sharon began to feel its sting.

Doing her own stunts finally backfired, and Sharon ended up breaking both of her legs. Luckily, Sharon had her sister all to happy to move in and take care of her full time.

Unluckily, Denise saw this as the perfect opportunity to get her revenge on Sharon and teach her an important lesson in humility.

It started with making sure Sharon was eating plenty of big high calorie meals. Denise convinced her that it was important that she keep her strength up. She needed plenty of energy to heal and calories are energy, so she needed lots and lots of calories. It wasn’t hard to get Sharon to eat either. Sharon had always had a healthy appetite. Until the accident, she had been a very active woman, calories had not mattered to her because she burned them off so easily. And in her mind all of those calories had indeed turned into her muscles. They had made her stronger. So Sharon was all too happy to follow Denise’s advice, and she thought it rather funny, having her sister as a servant waiting on her hand and foot.

Sharon even enjoyed the luxuries of sitting around, indulging and doing absolutely nothing. 

Nothing that is except growing a big fat ass. 

She was too busy sitting in her cushiony bed, stuffing her face with whatever food was put in front of her to realize that her ass was gaining a whole lot of new cushion. Her butt was getting squishier by the day, losing its tone thanks to her lack of activity. Sharon’s buns of steel were turning into buns of blubber with every new spoonful of ice cream that Denise hand fed her. And it wasn’t just her but either. Her thighs started getting pretty hefty pretty quickly. They dimpled with cellulite which went unnoticed by her for a long time.

But not by Denise.

Denise noticed every pound, every little detail. And she relished it. Each no bit of softness just convinced her to double her efforts.

Meals got bigger. Snacks got more frequent. Pounds piled on even quicker.

Sharon grew a chubby belly, a ball of spongy fat that began to lazily spill onto her lap whenever she sat up in bed to eat more delicious junk food. As the days went by, the belly grew bigger. Sharon grew lazier. And more helpless.

Her bones healed, but the lack of physical activity after all that time meant that Sharon’s days as a gym rat were over, and her appetite had increased so significantly that dieting was out of the question as well. She was stuck in an endless cycle of weight gain. And once the cameras got a look at her, things only accelerated. The backlash from her weight gain, and the way people who had suffered from Sharon’s cruelty were now so eager to pay her back in kind drove Sharon to add stress eating to her already gluttonous behavior.

And when Sharon really got a look at herself, and the fatty she had turned herself into. She was not eager to be seen by anyone else. She had enough money. She didn’t need to work. And the acting offers were drying up anyway. She did one comedy as the fat sidekick where the humor was entirely derived by how fat she had gotten, and that was enough to see where her future career would be going, and she wanted no part of it. Instead Sharon simply wanted to stay home and indulge in peace. She wasn’t happy about it, but she sure was a lot fatter for it.

Denise loved it. Sharon had picked up all of her bad habits and then some. She didn’t resist at all when food was put in front of her, and she was snacking all the time without even being asked. Her spoiled brat of a sister had turned into a good obedient fat girl, a perfectly lazy piggy with a body made of blubber. Denise loved getting to order her sister around though. She made it very clear to Sharon that she was now in complete control, and Sharon responded by eating more and getting even fatter.

Sharon grew a big spherical spare tire, massively fat breasts that swang like pendulums on the rare occasions that she waddled about. She had massive tree-trunk-like thunder thighs that were the centerpiece of fat legs that include thick cankles and swollen feet with sausage toes. Her ass was titanic like two fat sacks of potatoes sagging down onto her fat thighs. Sharon’s fat ass and hips constantly knocked things over. Her arms were weak with blubbery bingo wings, and her face was piggish with jiggly jowls and a doughy double chin.

Denise never did lose any weight. In fact if anything hanging out with Sharon so much meant she gained even more weight. But Sharon gained weight at such an astounding rate that she eventually surpassed her, becoming fatter than Denise’s wildest dreams.

She was content that Sharon was once again and forever the bigger sister.

Submit Story Ideas: Swimsuit Edition!

The next round of "Exclusive Cuts" stories (just for patreon patrons) will be a collection called "Swimsuit Edition" and to fill that collection, I need your ideas for stories that could fit with the theme "Swimsuit Edition". Submit them in the comments below, on my Discord Server if you're a 6 dollar and up patron or DM me here privately.

I look forward to reading them and writing your ideas.

"Foundations of a Fattening Gameshow"

Here is the basis for what I hope will be a new ongoing story, a story that will be fully interactive and for new 10 dollar tier patrons. I have at least one more foundational chapter that I'm going to write which will be available for everyone, and then when I launch my 10 dollar tier the full interactive story will launch with it.

What I need from you is feedback on how you would like this gameshow (including its title) to work, and what you think would make a 10 dollar tier worth it in general. Please leave your feedback in the comments below, or you can discuss the story in the Discord if you're a Talking BS or Even More BS tier patron. You're free to DM me feedback as well.

Thank you.

Enjoy!

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Grigor Manex always figured that with a name like Grigor he was destined to be something of a mad scientist. He owed it to his parents after all who, once upon a time, had been elite Soviet scientists who had bravely crossed the iron curtain so that they would no longer be forced to create secret government projects that transformed and ruined the lives of others and could instead create secret government projects that transformed and ruined the lives of others while making a whole lot of money.

His parents had always espoused the joys of capitalism, the thrill of exploiting others, the delight that came with dominating others and showing off one’s superior intellect, and the pleasure that came with having another person’s life in your hands, at your mercy- someone who once thought themselves untouchable, better than the whole of the world and certainly you now brought low, humiliated, and completed ruined beyond recognition.

This was the American dream.

And yet Grigor was getting bored with it.

He had at his disposal a vast amount of resources, the ability to topple governments if he so chose (and he and his parents had). But that wasn’t enough for Grigor. He constantly sort ways to feed his own proclivities.

And Grigor had a real proclivity for feeding others.

It was more than just that of course. Grigor loved to transform others, especially those were were known for being incredibly vain, for flaunting their figures and their power and feeling untouchable. And Grigor’s favorite ways to humble those people was usually by fattening them up. 

Grigor had gotten quite good at his fattening process. He had developed drugs and super concentrated caloric sludge capable of fattening people at an outrageously quick weight. He developed nanites to aid in his transformations, and he had developed numerous psychotropic techniques including types of hypnosis that he could use to control his subjects. He prided himself on being so varied and creating science that was so cutting edge that it worked almost like magic. But while he enjoyed fattening his enemies, and even just people that he considered to be vain and haughty in nature, it wasn’t enough for him to do it in secret anymore.

What Grigor really wanted was to be a star.

He dreamed of fattening celebrities, or at least becoming something of a celebrity while fattening others. Fame, fortune and fattening, that was Grigor’s calling.

Grigor watched the video back of his greatest work to date. He had managed to sell his services to one of those sleazy daytime talk shows, and a vain 18 year old cheerleader named Madison who was a little to eager for fame and very careless about the release forms she was signing had signed up to “learn some humility” by joining the show’s new “fat camp”. She had assumed that this meant that she would be stuck in a fat suit for a few days, maybe forced to eat a big meal or two, and probably end up visiting a new school so she could be laughed at while supposedly learning important life lessons about how lazy fat asses live. She’d dress up as a lazy, greedy, glutton, a pathetic fatty, preach a bit about how she changed and was embracing body positivity and then she would cash in both a paycheck and some newfound fame.

She was very wrong.

Grigor loved watching the way his fattening sludge worked. He enjoyed every single step of it. First, Madison was given a series of injections, serum designed to supercharge the high calorie formula and make her body more receptive to it. The injections also allowed the ability to focus gains in the more desired places. It was decided that it would be far funnier to keep Madison’s perfect and perky breasts considerably smaller than the rest of her fat body, so the injections were designed to focus on her gain into a large, globular gut and some tremendous thunder thighs.

Then he loved the way the formula disappeared from its clear container. He loved watching the way it streaked against the plastic as it made its way down the tube and into Madison’s delicate neck. He loved the way her neck pulsed with each new gulp, and he enjoyed the subtle rise of her belly as her toned abs disappeared thanks to the bloating from the sheer volume of liquid that filled her stomach. He was thankful for the crop top she was given to wear to really showcase the stretching of bulging of her belly and the stretching of her skin.

But his favorite part was always watching the fattening liquid go to work.

The time lapse camera always made it look more magical than it actually was, but it was still a miracle of modern science.

Naturally, the gain started in her already bloated belly, but now her abs were gone forever as the hard shell of her bloated belly became encased in soft spongy fat. Her belly grew out into a fully blown flabby gut, a turgid mass of fat that surged forward and spilled onto her lap. Madison’s previously trim middle soon sprouted thick love handles to match, slabs of fat that spilled over the waistband of the shorts had been given to wear. She even grew a thick roll of back fat to further compliment her flabby spare tire. She cried and as she realized just how fat and flabby her previously trim tummy was getting. But it was the look in her eyes when she realized that this was only the beginning that really brought a smile to Grigor’s face.

Madison’s thighs were the next thing to take the brunt of the weight. It was comical the way her once toned limbs soon thickened to the point of stretching out the leg holes of her shorts. The muscle disappeared, buried under fat just like her abs had been. Her thighs thickened into full blown thunder thighs that pressed together and pushed her legs apart as she sat. Their fat spilled over the chair and her skin gained stretch marks and cellulite. It wasn’t just her thighs that gained weight. The rest of her legs grew fatter as well. Madison’s calves and ankles swelled, and even her toes began to plump up.

But the plumping of her toes was nothing compared to the plumping of her posterior. Her butt grew soft and spongy. The muscle gave way to flab. And though her butt grew, her thighs still took on more of the fat as was the plan. This meant that Madison’s ass certainly grew in size, it mostly grew in sag. She didn’t have enough fat to give her a ton of volume, and this cursed her with a very wide pancake ass. Her fat, flabby and thoroughly deflated cheeks, covered with cellulite, sagged downward and slapped onto the back of her chunky, tree trunk like thunder thighs. Madison’s butt was once proud and perky, and now it was a soft, pathetic blubber butt, just cheeks filled with useless fat and not even enough of it to give her an attractive shape.

Madison’s breasts lost their shapeliness as well. Their size was dwarfed by her blubber body, but they still had enough extra fat added to them to make them sag in a rather defeated way. The sag perfectly matched the rest of Madison’s flabby body which was quickly becoming covered in drooping rolls and sagging folds of fat.

Even her arms grew noticeably thicker. Her lithe limbs grew blubbery bingo wings and the soft fat sagged downward over her fat elbows. Her wrists swelled up, and even Madison’s hands grew fatter. Her previously perfect piano fingers grew into plump sausages just like her toes. Her fat hands would give her a new clumsiness she previously had not experienced. This was aided by the thickness of her thighs which gave her a distinct wobble from side to side and came with saddlebags that were prone to brushing up against things like door frames and knocking objects that weren’t properly secured over.

Her face grew bloated with fat as well. Madison’s once defined cheekbones disappeared as she grew chubby jiggly jowls. And her delicate chin was swallowed up by a second one that sag down toward her chest. Her double chin was quite doughy, and, just like the rest of her softened, fat and flabby body, it quivered at the slightest movement. The fatty deposits on her face gave her a much more rounded look, and the way her chubby cheeks had bloomed made her eyes look beady and gave her face a piggish quality. Tears rolled down those chubby cheeks, and it brought Grigor great joy to know that the vain Madison was gone forever, replaced by the kind of fat girl that Madison had always enjoyed making fun of. The slim and sexy Madison was never to return.

The fattening formula had taken care of that. The injections ensured that both her metabolism was shot and that her appetite was greatly increased. It didn’t take long after Madison’s weight gain was complete that a tray was wheeled in with an entire bucket of fried chicken. Grigor loved watching Madison fight her urge to eat, but the hunger was just too strong. Her bingo wings jiggled fiercely as she tore into a big juicy chicken wing. And once she started tearing into that greasy chicken, she couldn’t stop herself. That’s when Madison, and everyone watching the show, knew that she was going to be a fat girl forever.

Grigor didn’t know what happened to Madison after that. He assumed she went back to school and learned what it was like to be the fattest girl in her class and the butt of many many jokes. He liked to imagine that this caused her to drop out of college and be doomed to a life of a fat menial servant, maybe as a maid or as a worker in the fast food industry. He knew she would end up getting fatter over time, but he wasn’t certain of just how fat she would get.

None of that mattered to Grigor.

He was on to new projects, but the taste of what he had gotten here in this moment stuck with him forever. His work had gotten on film, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Grigor wanted to keep fattening people, transforming and humiliating the vain, but he didn’t just want to watch his designs work from behind the camera. 

Grigor wanted to be in front of it. 

He decided then that the best thing to do was to take all the varied tools at his disposal, plus the incredible amount of money and influence he had gained from years of being an unscrupulous black market mad scientist for hire (Thanks fall of the Soviet Union!) and put together a kind of reality game show thing. 

But to figure out how to best structure such a show, from title to transformations to types of contestant, he would need lots of data. And to get that data he would have to have to do something that filled his heart with dread. He had no choice but to do it. 

He would need to hold focus groups. 

(That's you. You're the focus group. What are your ideas for this gameshow? What kinds of things would you like to see and what would make a premium 10 dollar tier worth joining for you? Let me know below, in our Discord server, or via DM.)

Some Major Updates!

Is that title a bit clickbaity? Maybe. But I think you're going to want to read about these updates.

First, you may have noticed that I finally published the extended edition of "The Fat Making Notebook Goes Grocery Shopping" this took me a while until I hit on a big development I wanted to include. The original version appeared in "Fat Trimmings" Volume 30.

This development has led to the introduction of the character of Selene whose story will continue as another running feature in "Extra Slices" for 7 dollar Even More BS members as I look to add value to that tier.

Next, I said I'd do this Monday, but I forgot:

The winner of the Exclusive Cuts poll is "Swimsuit Edition".

But this is going to be for Fat Tuesday Week soooooo....

I will be attempting to do BOTH "Swimsuit Edition" and "Slob City" with "Swimsuit Edition" taking priority when it comes to publishing time and number/length of stories. But you can expect solicitation posts for your story ideas in the next few days.

Speaking of solicitating ideas, I'm looking for ideas for "Fat Trimmings" Volume 42, specifically ideas for sequels that you want to see because that will be the theme. You can make suggestions either here or on the Discord if you are a Talking BS tier patron or above.

More updates:

The next volume of "Extra Slices" is being worked on. It will be available for Even More BS tier patrons. But I also have a new story that I've finished and will be posting tomorrow called "The Foundations of a Fattening Gameshow" which will eventually be an interactive story for the 10 dollar patron tier that I want to launch during Fat Tuesday Week. This first story will be for all paid members and give everybody to opportunity to get a taste of what's coming and shape what they would like to see.

I also have another start of a story to post called "Model Made to Waddle", Discord patrons have already been able to read it and are aware that this particular story has been a pain in my ass as it comes from someone who decided to stiff me on a very expensive commission, so the first chapter is coming here, but its continuation will be based entirely on the response that it gets.

Finally, I am still going to be working on "Nightmare Pigs 2" and I planning on posting the next chapter by next week along with hopefully the conclusion to "Scenes From a Casual Dining Restaurant", the Valentine's Day story I started last year.

Thanks for hanging with me, and I look forward to sharing more stuff with you. If you'd like to make sure you're getting all of the content I put out as well as the ability to greatly shape what I write, be sure you upgrade your membership HERE.

The Fat Making Notebook Goes Grocery Shopping - Extended Edtion

Here is the full extended version of "The Fat Making Notebook Goes Grocery Shopping" which originally appeared way back in "Fat Trimmings" Volume 30.

This version is over double the length, coming in at over 4,000 words and features a major plot development to the overall story of the Fat Making Notebook.

Enjoy!

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“The Fat Making Notebook Goes Shopping”

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Asami almost didn’t bring the notebook with her to the grocery store. She certainly didn’t expect to need it. But as she started to leave her apartment, she couldn’t help but feel a nagging sensation that it would be bad to leave the notebook behind. What if someone broke into the apartment? (Even though she was living in a fourth floor walk up and her door was double bolted and it was also the middle of the day.) The notebook might get stolen. (Even though it was safely locked away in her desk drawer in the same cheesy secret compartment she used to keep her diary in.) So as she hesitated at the door for a moment longer than she could measure, Asami eventually turned around and went back to grab the notebook.

It was better to be safe and sorry, and there was no harm to come from carrying the notebook around.

At least not to her.

So Asami clenched the book in her hands and found that as she headed off to the grocery store, her mind was no longer just on what she would buy to feed herself, but who she would transform while she was there. It seemed to her that the inside of the grocery store would supply an infinite amount of creative ideas. What a perfectly simple place to take the notebook. Plenty of rude Karen’s at the local grocery store. Plenty of people who come back regularly. It was the perfect place to go and find new people- rude people- definitely rude awful people- to punish and a delightful place to check in on them from time to time. Yes. It was definitely the perfect pla-

That’s what Asami was thinking about before her thoughts were rudely interrupted by the jarring sensation of being suddenly run into, not just randomly bumping into someone, but being actively shoulder and nearly sent to the floor. 

“Watch where you’re going, fat ass!”

They were two slim friends who were laughing at her having shoved her right as she was getting to the door of the store, and Asami had to admit that she was getting tired of that particular trope in her life and of people quoting that damn Mean Girls line at her.

That’s when she realized she no longer had the notebook!

In a panic she looked down to see that, fortunately, it had just fallen to the ground right next to her and gone no farther. She snatched it back up and stormed into the grocery store, determined to make the woman who nearly cost her the notebook pay.

There were two women, friends, annoying chatty, catty friends, slim and sexy stereotypes still clearly laughing about what a fine trick they had just played. One, a blonde, was taller and more muscular than her much more petite red headed friend. Based on her musculature, Asami assumed that the blonde Karen was the one to shove into her and took joy in steering her away from the vegetable aisle.

“The blonde who bumped into me will no longer eat salads or enjoy healthy food. She’s become a real junk food junkie, and she’s going to go find a bag of marshmallows to eat right now. As she eats them, her ass is going to grow until it’s so fat that it splits her pants.”

“Then we’ll see who gets to laugh,” thought Asami as she watched the blonde suddenly steer her cart away from the vegetables and toward the snacks.

The red head, who was too distracted choosing between a cut bag of spinach and kale or a bag of spring mix, suddenly turned to see her friend headed elsewhere.

“Sharon, where are you going?” she called out.

Asami chuckled to herself seeing how close she was with mentally naming the woman Karen and then ducked into the snack aisle to watch Sharon’s transformation.

Sharon couldn’t believe the incredible craving for sweets that she had, and for salty things, for things rich and fat that she had spent so many years denying herself. It was like she couldn’t say no any longer. She suddenly wanted cookies, and cake, and potato chips and ice cream and… marshmallows. She wanted marshmallows. She NEEDED marshmallows.

She found the bag and couldn’t wait to even get it to the checkout counter. Like a wild animal, she tore into the bag right there and began stuffing the sweet treats into her mouth, chewing as fast as she could.

Asami was excited to see the body of a woman who could have modeled for Playboy become a chubby bunny indeed.

As Sharon began to eat the marshmallows, her body began to change. Her muscles all softened slightly, but by far the biggest change came to the swelling of her ass. It was subtle at first, just a little bit of extra plumpness, but then as she got to the fourth and fifth marshmallow that she was cramming into her cheeks, her ass cheeks which were already getting chunky really started to balloon. The fat filled them like water balloons, first expanding outward and then sagging downward. The plump mounds of plush flesh would have sagged even further if they were not struggling against the confines of her tight pants.

To aid in the battle against the pants, Sharon’s hips and thighs began to widen too. Her entire lower half grew thicker and into an exaggerated pear shape as she pushed more delicious marshmallows into her greedy mouth.

The marshmallows kept coming, and so did the pounds, and as her pants got tighter and near bursting, that’s when he red headed friend came turning down the aisle in shock at what she was seeing.

Sharon ignored her though and kept eating. With the bag almost finished, she realized she had dropped one of the marshmallows and reached down to pick it up.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPP!!!!

That’s when the pants gave way, and yet Sharon instinctively shoved the last marshmallow into her mouth before shooting up and using her hands to try and cover her now exposed chubby cheeks. Her friend couldn’t help but be a catty bitch.

“Wow, Sharon. I catch you sneaking snacks and look at what happens. I can’t believe I never realized you had put on so many pounds. You’ve really gained weight, girl.”

“Shut up, Terri,” Sharon muttered with her mouth full of marshmallow.

Terri walked up and poked Sharon in her tummy which had grown just enough to pop the button on her pants but was a far cry from her swollen ass cheeks.

“Face it, piglet. You’ve gotta go and buy yourself some fat pants.”

Sharon turned away and started to storm out of the store as quickly as her fat ass and torn pants would allow. She dropped the empty bag of the marshmallows to the floor with no intention of paying for it, another thing that Asami took as a sign that Sharon was worthy of punishment.

Asami figured that Terri shouldn’t get off scot free either and once again opened her notebook.

“Terri is extra catty to Sharon to distract from her own recent weight gain. She had also become a junk food junkie who has recently gained a little pot belly and a real bloated face. She’s going to be an obese slob within the year.”

“Hey, wait for me, piglet!” Terri called after Sharon.

As Terri walked past her, Asami could see the changes to the red head’s figure. Her shirt was now noticeably tighter, stretched by a belly that he replaced her abs and forced the shirt up just enough to expose a delicious sliver of flabby flesh. Her previous angelic face was now round and distinctly bloated looking, a clear sign of her new junk food addiction. It was already starting to look a little greasy and had the start of a nice doughy double chin. 

Asami looked forward to seeing the women again as she was certain they would now be addicted to the junk food here at the store, and she was eager to see how they would change.

But for now, Asami had to look away from her former victims and look down not at the notebook but at her shopping list. After all, she had her own errand to run.

And as she looked up to survey the store for what she needed, she knew she would find a fresh crop of victims as well.

A few people caught her eye for some quick changes. A thin woman sizing up some cantaloupes got big melons and a fat ass to match. A pair of women who were talking just a bit too loudly for Asami’s taste found themselves with bloated bellies and new double chins that wobbled every time their mouths moved. Generally speaking she gave most of the people she saw, at least those that weren’t already fat, some new curves, at least enough to make their clothes tight and have them worrying about needed to size up. Some people she gave new larger appetites to to make sure that sizing up became a regular ongoing thing. All the while, Asami went about picking up some things for herself like hummus. Of course, anyone with a like minded taste for dips who wanted something healthy like carrots for them soon found themselves reaching for chips and crackers instead and a few pounds around the middle for their trouble.

While Asami scanned the snack aisle for her own food, she caught the sense that she was benign watched. Asami was very used to judgmental gazes after all, and sure enough as she leaned for a box of CoCoMint Cookies, she caught the sight of a blonde in a crop top staring at her with disgust. In her hands, the blonde held a box of non-fat cookies, a disgusting abomination, and Asami knew immediately what this was all about.

That poor, vain, skinny bitch was looking at Asami as a cautionary tale. She was sizing Asami up and reminding herself that fat people are lazy and disgusting and she was not, under any circumstances, to lose her perfect figure and become like this cow with CoCoMint Cookies in her chubby hands. To the blonde, Asami was everything to strive not to be, and she was using Asami’s fat body as justification for her lame as “cheat snack” of disgusting diet cookies. 

It was sad really.

And Asami was going to change that.

“The blonde is self-conscious about the new pot belly she’s recently grown, but is helpless to stop herself from eating cookies, her biggest weakness which will ensure that she gets even fatter.”

The blonde woman with the previously svelte frame, put the cookies back, chastising herself. She had hoped that she could control herself and use the diet cookies as a way to wean her off her addiction, but the thought of having such flavorless crap when there were so many options at her disposal. 

And sometimes she felt like a human garbage disposal lately, especially when it came to cookies.

Her mouth was watering as she stared at the multitude of options that were laid out before her. Then she reached down and gave her plush bot belly a squeeze. It was ridiculous that she was standing here in a crop top with a gut hanging out and over the waistband of her shorts. She felt like a pig. This was especially true as she slid her hand along her blubber until she pinched one of the love handles that completed her muffin top. 

But she couldn’t stop herself.

She knocked several boxes straight into her cart without a care to their actual brand, just that they were cookies. Then, she grabbed a box of CoCoMint cookies and tore into it right there. She moaned as the cookies hit her tongue. She ate them so quickly that crumbs flew into her generous cleavage. Her new little double chin wobbled with each new bite. She knew what was happening, knew what it was doing to her.

She was becoming a fat girl. But there was no way to save herself. There was no way she was going to be giving up these delicious cookies. She needed more and more and more.

So she was just going to have to get used to being a greedy little piglet.

The blonde woman chastised herself with a few self-deprecating oinks, the same kind of sounds she used to make when teasing the fat girls at school. But they did nothing to slow her down. She kept embracing her new life as a wanton, greedy little piglet eating cookie after cookie even though she knew that the end result would be her downfall. If she could turn back now she could maybe get back to being the slim and sexy vixen that she was. At the very least she could settle for just being chubby. But just staying chunky was not in the cards for her. The hog call of the cookies was too strong, and she knew she was destined to turn herself into a full blown fatty.

Asami kept looking down the aisles and spotted Marco. Marco was a ladies man from way back in high school. He was still gorgeous and clearly exceedingly vain from the way he kept his flowing hair to the way he wore his tight buttoned shirt with the buttons down to his chest. Asami really decided to have some fun with him.

Soon, the playboy was now a porker. His chest was now practically spilling out of his shirt as his chiseled pecs gave way to generous and jiggly moobs. And his new man boobs weren’t the only part of him to grow bigger and softer. Marco also sprouted a generous gut to match. His new blubbery belly pushed at the buttons of his shirt. Its fat oozed through the gaps and caused the shirt to ride up revealing the sliver of his fat pot belly that now rolled over the waistband of his unbuttoned shorts. The thick flabby love handles that stuck out as well further highlighted his brand new muffin top.

The lard ass lothario developed a big blubbery booty that filled his shorts, and his thunder thighs strained against the holes of his shorts. The legs of his shorts were so tight thanks to thickness of his thighs that he was getting big red marks where they threatened to cut off circulation. Even his calves and ankles were thicker now. 

Asami laugh as his belly, moobs, and doughy double chin all wobbled as his fat arms reached for a family sized bag of potato chips that Asami was sure he would eat all by himself. 

After that, Asami saw a few people she knew in college. One of the benefits of living in a college town like Asami’s was that a lot of people went to college and then just sort of settled in the area. Two of these people were Trey and Valencia, a couple since college who were now personal trainers at one of the gyms in town. They were stopping in the store to pick up a quick healthy snack while in the middle of their jog together.

Asami found the idea of a couples jogging session so smug, and decided to make it a couples waddling session instead. She opened her notebook.

“Trey and Valencia are a couple of fat slobs waddling here to load up on snacks to bring back to their apartment and bing eat while binge watching Netflix.”

For a moment, Asami wondered if she had been too cruel. Should she have left the couple with the flexibility of a Disney+ and Hulu bundle at least? It did not matter. The die was cast, and their fat fate was sealed.

As if overtaken by an unspeakable hunger, fitting because that was what was happening, Trey and Valencia threw down the prepackaged salads they had picked up and dashed past Asami and into the snack food aisle. By the time Asami doubled back to that aisle, the fit couple was turned into a couple of slobs.

Both had grown big blubbery bellies, that hung over the waistbands of their now ironic tracksuit pants and peeked out from under their sweat and grease stained shirts. Their thighs were crammed like thick sausages into their well worn pants which were stretched to their limits by big blubbery butts that swayed about with each lumbering step as they waddled through the aisle, greedily snatching as many snacks as they could could in their fat flabby arms. Their fat bodies jiggled with anticipation as they hungrily piled food into their cart and waddled toward the door. They were now each so obese that their sweaty bodies could not stand side by side together as they waddled through the aisles. They both had very bouncy chests as well which was especially funny on the previously fit Trey who now had a set of rather mighty moobs.

The couple of couch potatoes waddled off to pay for their snacks, and Asami turned back to her own cart. She still needed some juice after all. 

That’s when she ran into Selene.

Like so many of the annoyances in Asami’s life, Selene was one that had started in high school and continued in college. In fact, it was beginning to feel rather uncanny to Asami the sheer number of popular girls she grew up with who still lingered around to haunt her. It was almost as if there was something in the water (or in the strong magical ley lines that she had no real knowledge of.)

Selene was one of those classically beautiful bitches with a superior attitude and an incredibly amount of vanity. Asami’s brain actually got foggy when she tried to think too much about her past with Selene in that moment. Had Selene been head cheerleader? How many head cheerleaders had she changed at this point? How many prom queens? How twisted and confusing was reality getting?

It didn’t matter. Selene was just another pretty girl, another vain and popular bitch worth punishing, another slender enemy to be defeated.

So she began to write in the notebook.

She began to write in the notebook right in front of Selene’s eyes.

And before Selene could even say anything, she felt her body begin to tingle. And she saw Asami smile.

Selene felt a trembling in her hands, and as she looked down at them it was like they had been stung by a swarm of bees. Her slender hands were plump with fat complete with thick, clumsy-looking sausage fingers. Her wrists swelled up as well growing thick but in a way that clearly suggested that their size was because of new thick layers of plush, squeezable fat and not muscle. If anything, it felt like her arms were led, like they were getting weaker as they were getting heavier, and they were getting heavier because they were filling with fat.

The sleeves of her blouse had the first seams to burst. They were no match for the girth of her new blubbery biceps. Selene was not becoming She-Hulk by any means. Instead, her biceps were gaining in circumference purely because of the pillowy fat that was filling them, and it wasn’t the strength of her biceps as much as it was the sheer amount of buttery blubber that made up her bingo wings which caused the blouse to give in, and the soft fat began to ooze through the holes in the outfit that it had created. 

Her sleeves were not the only places Selene’s newly acquired flab oozed out of. As her abs disappeared, she gained a soft blubbery pot belly that continued to expand with plush fat until it became a full blown gelatinous gut, the kind of spare tire that pulled her blouse out of her pencil skirt where it had once been professionally tucked in, and then that blouse continued to ride up as her belly continued to rise like a big fat ball of dough until are large roll of fat burst the zipper on her skirt and overwhelmed her waistband, rolling over it and revealing a massive stretch mark decorated muffin top for the world to see.

Blubber wasn’t content to stop there. It wanted to be known. It was like her big blubbery belly craved attention, and the fat that filled it now stretched the buttons of her blouse to their absolute limit causing big gaps through which the wobbling fat was able to pour through and introduce itself.

The topmost button of her blouse popped off as Selene’s breasts grew greater in size. Her already bountiful bosom expanded as it was filled with quivering fleshed and heaved forward, spurred on by increasing deposits of fat. With all of that fat though came new stretch marks. And, even with the fat that now filled her breasts they looked far smaller than her big belly and mostly just sagged disappointingly.

Down below, Selene’s hips widened considerably which caused the zipper on her skirt to fall down even further. But the skirt now stayed only purely because of how tightly it was stretched out against her blubber. The fat kept it fixed in place. And the amount of fat on her lower body kept increasing. Her ass blew up like two balloons out behind her. The skirt was lifted up by the blobs of blubber until the bottoms of her chunky cellulite covered cheeks could be seen as they drooped downward and sagged onto the backs of her thighs.

Those previously toned thighs became thick thunder thighs, slabs of blubber that slapped together until the fat just stayed pressed together and pushed her fat legs into a much wider stance. She had sloppy sagging saddlebags on the sides of her tree trunk like thunder thighs, and, thanks to the length of the skirt, something made even shorter thanks to the girth of her thighs pushing it up, every inch of her flabby, cellulite and stretch mark covered thunder thighs was in plain view for all to see. Her legs were immensely fat, down to the swelling calves and ankles that were quickly becoming cankles. Selene’s feet and grown swollen as well, swelling up into fat feet that strained the straps of her heels, shoes which now showed off mini-sausage like toes that matched her thick clumsy fingers.

Finally, Selene’s once slender face had grown fat. She developed a big round moon face with chubby cheeks and a doughy double chin. Her jiggly jowls were so thick that they made her eyes look beady. The beauty now looked quite piggish, sweating and out of breath from her rapid transformation. There was fear written across her fat face, but she was so overwhelmed that she couldn’t even manage a scream.

All Selene could do was look a Asami and her notebook. Her fat body quivered as she looked at this woman who she was now far fatter than and tried to comprehend exactly what was going on.

“Y-you… you….” was all she could mutter.

For a brief moment, fear washed across Asami’s face as well. Had she messed up? Was this the end?

But then, as she watched people walk by with little more than a snicker at the ridiculous fat woman who was bursting out of her clothes in the middle of the grocery store, a new wave of confidence filled her heart.

She walked right up to her enemy and chuckled as she whispered in Selene’s ear.

“Nobody will believe you.”

Selene’s neck felt hot, and she wanted to tear the fat from her body as she felt her face flush with fear. She dropped everything she had, abandoned her cart, and waddled as fast as her fat legs could carry her into the new reality that awaited her. Was Asami right? How would people respond when they saw her? What was her life now? She was wild eyed and desperate for answers.

And Asami?

She just calmly checked out her groceries and walked out of the store with a broad smile on her chubby face.

(Want to follow along with Selena’s journey? It will be continuing in Extra Slices, the anthology series of stories exclusive to this patreon and Even More BS Members. The next volume with two stories should be coming soon.)

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 41

Finally here, it's three new stories totaling over 4,000 words including "The Fat Making Notebook Goes to the Movies".

Enjoy!

“The Fat Making Notebook Goes to the Movies”

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Asami loved popcorn, and candy, and any number of the assortment of snacks that they served at her local movie theater. The day that they started selling hot dog nuggets was a watershed moment in Asami’s life. For Asami, the act of buying snacks at the movie theater was the reason for going out to the movies and not just waiting for things to drop on any of the numerous streaming services that capitalism demanded that she be subscribed to. Sure, she could get a lot of these same things at home, but there was nothing like movie theater popcorn, nothing like a soda pulled from the fountain, and nothing like fresh hot dog nuggets served with movie theater nacho cheese sauce. Asami could never replicate that kind of cheese dip at home, not with its signature melted rubber like consistency nor its radioactively neon coloring that fell deep in the uncanny valley between yellow and orange.

Of course, waiting in line for movie theater snacks before her latest foray into popular fantasy moviedom provided plenty of opportunity for Asami to get herself into some mischief with her fat making notebook.

It started small. The woman in front of Asami in line was dressed in a pair of leggings that really clung to her curves and highlighted how athletic her legs looked and how large but toned her butt was. She was clearly some kind of proud athlete, possibly a real gym nut, someone who obvious did a lot of squats, and Asami decided that someone so clearly dedicated to showcasing her fantastic glutes to the world was too vain for her own good, and the good of every other less endowed person around her, so she used the notebook to take away her athletic posterior and replace it with something more suited to a couch potato.

The woman’s thighs lost their tone first, and her leggings stretched further as her athletically thick legs became thicker with fat. For a brief moment that felt held up still on top of the well earned muscle underneath it, but once the muscle disappeared, the fat got flabby, and her thighs took on a much lumpier consistency as they stretched the leggings to their limit. The legging were stretched like sausage casings against her legs and grew so sheer that it was clear to see the dimpled pattern of cellulite that now decorated her flabby thunder thighs. Her thighs began to slap together and widen her stance.

Above them, her perfect, perky posterior remained large. In fact, it grew even larger. But just like her thunder thighs, the muscles in her ass soon disappeared, turning her buns of steel into a blubber butt. Her chunky cheeks became like balloons that had been blown up and then deflated. They still had plenty of size to them, but they had a lot more sag. Her bloated butt cheeks now stretched her leggings to the absolute limit and threatened to peak out over the top. They also sagged downward and slapped against the fat of her flabby thunder thighs. Just like those thick thighs, the woman’s blubber butt was also covered in cellulite visible through the stretched thin fabric of her legging which were clearly on their last days.

As the woman humiliated picking out a wedgie from between her bulbous butt cheeks, she swore to herself that she would put extra effort in the gym to “get her fat ass back in shape” without realizing that Asami had used to notebook to make sure that any attempts to regain muscle down below would lead to nothing but humiliation. 

Asami also found it quite amusing that she had left the rest of the woman’s body mostly untouched which gave the otherwise fit woman a very large and out of shape lower half. This was by design. She didn’t want to spend all of her fun at once just transforming this one woman.

For instance, there was another woman at the front of the line who thought it was appropriate to buy just a Diet Coke, and Asami couldn’t have that. It took some quick scrambling in her notebook, but by the time she was done that Diet Coke was now a large Diet Coke.

She also ordered a large popcorn.

And an order of hot dog nuggets.

And a selection of candies.

By the time the woman received her order she was also carrying everything in her now extremely fat arms.

Those arms had been rather slender and at least somewhat tone, but now they were well cushioned with fat, pillowy arms that gave more than enough surface area to aid in the carrying of her many snacks as she waddled over to the next station to pick up a straw for her drink and absolutely drown her popcorn in butter. 

As she waddled to the counter, her tree-trunk-like thighs shook and slapped together. Just like the previous woman, this one was also wearing leggings like sausage casings around her thunder thighs. The difference was that her thighs were now twice the size of the first woman’s.

Her ass was just as proportionately large as well. Previously, her butt had been incredibly tiny, almost non-existent. Now it was bulbous. Her butt cheeks were two incredible masses of bull that bounced about with the slightest of movements. Her enormous ass cheeks quivered as she waddled, and long after she stood still again. The were loose sagging slabs of fat that slapped onto the back of her flabby thighs, but they were also so large and round that the tops of them poked out of her leggings giving her a permanent case of plumber’s crack. 

The lady’s large lard filled belly lumbered out in front of her, sloshing about as she made her way to furnish her popcorn with copious amounts of butter. It was a hanging sack of fat that spilled out from under her clothes and was a far cry from the way her trim tummy that she used to have. It stuck out far in front of her even as it sagged down like an apron of fat toward her fat dimply knees, and when she got to the counter she had to reach with her fat arms because her big blubber belly got in the way as it pressed against the counter and pushed her backward.

Even though her eyes were now beady because of all the fat the filled her face, turning her delicate facial features into bloated parodies of what they once were, one could still see how wild eyed and ravenous she was for her precious snacks. She was salivating as she drowned her butter in popcorn, practically smacking her lips together and licking them with her tongue. She couldn’t wait to get to the theater and threw a large handful of popcorn into her mouth right there. Several pieces of popcorn dropped into her canyon of cleavage, and butter dripped down her doughy double chin. But she didn’t care. She practically squealed with delight as she scarfed down a second handful and then waddled off to her movie to eat the rest of her snacks with equally piggish glee.

Just before she was about to get her own snacks, Asami saw what looked to be two college aged women, slim and haughty looking like sorority sisters, holding hands.

“Probably going to see a rom-com or something. That’s no fun,” she thought as she took out the notebook and wrote in it.

“That couple isn’t into rom-coms. They’re a pair of big fat nerds.”

And just like that, the pair went from looking like they could have been cheerleaders to looking like a couple of couch potatoes who spent their time binge watching tv shows and movies when they weren’t playing online video games. Their bodies became fat and flabby to reflect their change in appetite from salad, fruits, and premium bottled water to fast food, Hot Packets, and sugar loaded energy drinks. 

Their entire bodies got soft, losing any sort of tone and swelling outward, overwhelming their clothes with fat. Their clothes changed as well from sleek and stylish outfits to ruddy but comfortable looking sweatpants that did nothing to conceal how fat they now were. They had certain similarities, muffin tops that peeked over their greasy sweatpants, fat pimply faces with greasy skin and thighs big enough to slap together and make them waddle, but the formerly fit now fat nerds also had key differences.

One became much more bottom heavy, while both had thighs that made them waddle, hers were truly tree trunks topped by two absolutely enormous ass cheeks. Every part of her lower half was extremely soft and saggy and continually moving even when she stopped. She developed significantly fatter feet with plump sausage toes and a thick set of cankles as well, and while she had a big belly, it wasn't nearly as large and sloppy as her partner.

The other woman was much more apple shaped. She had a big doughy dumper as well, but her biggest feature was the blubbery double belly that stuck out as a big blob of fat in front of her. It would have made her look pregnant if it wasn’t so soft and saggy looking. The lower roll easily spilled out from under her top and over the waistband of her sweats. She also grew huge, pendulous breasts that sagged downward and rested on the fat shelf of her belly. They quivered with even the slightest of motion and gave her cleavage that was perfect for catching snacks in. 

Asami watched with joy as the two changed their direction and waddled off hand in hand toward and obscure fantasy movie that she had never heard of. The two were technically speaking farther away from each other thanks to the thickness of their widened hips that caused them to have to reach their fat arms outward more to be able to hold chubby hands, but they were also closer than ever now that their fat thighs slapped against each other as they waddled to their destination.

For her part, Asami paid for her snacks and then headed off to her own movie, eager to see who she would transform there.

(To be Continued)

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“You Are Where You Work”

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Working at the auto shop was supposed to be temporary.

It was a job that her father helped her get thanks to a connection with the family friend who owned the place and was looking for a new front desk worker in order to “class up the joint a bit.”

And the autoshop sure needed some class.

In Eloise’s eyes, the men who worked there were all big fat slobs. Whenever she saw them they were always covered in grease of some kind, but it oil or fast food. And they were certainly all quite large. They were fat sweaty men who stayed respectful at the bosses wishes, but they were all far from being Eloise’s type. She found fat men to be disgusting and working class men in general to be disappointing and unattractive, and they were all both. They were fat and completely uncouth, especially crass with their humor, and Eloise was eager to stay far away from them and stay hidden in her little front office which smelt far less like the emissions that filled the rest of the shop.

This was Eloise’ first real job, and it was just supposed to be a little something that gave her some work experience and spending money while she figured out what to do with the rest of her life. You see, the problem with Eloise had always been that she was inherently rather lazy. She never stuck to anything, including a major in college. And she never had the drive to get any sort of internship or part-time job during the school year or even a summer job when she was off. Eloise preferred to enjoy her days lazing about, and if her father hadn’t threatened to cut her off financially, she never would have taken this job in the first place.

Everything about the job was disgusting to Eloise, from the fat people that she worked with to the customers that she had to deal with. Eloise never liked the idea of being subservient to someone else, and working such a menial job as the front desk of the auto body shop was something that she saw as decidedly beneath her.

The one good thing that Eloise found about the job was that it was pretty easy. She basically just had to answer phones and connect people to the right person at the right time. And she made sure everybody paid their bills. That was it. And to her, that, the money, and the whole having her father off her back thing, was enough to get her to keep putting up with the job and the fat men that she detested.

Of course, eventually the gentlemen who worked there had quite enough of her haughty attitude, but instead of confronting her directly, they decided to kill her with kindness. They would buy her lunch, something she would frequently turn down. And when that didn’t work they took to offering her small snacks as “peace offerings”. Eloise took to those much more easily. She enjoyed the snacks, things that really triggered her sweet tooth, and when she wasn’t snacking on something the guys had given her, Eloise often found herself drifting to the vending machine for more.

She started accepting lunches shortly after that.

And after she started accepting lunches, she actually started eating lunches with some of the guys. It turned out that perhaps they weren’t so bad. They were pretty nice, and most of them already had wives and girlfriends of their own, and those that didn’t remained respectful and clung to a strict (but not formally written down) policy of no dancing inside of the workplace. She took a special notice of Floyd, her boss's son, who was easily the fattest guy in the shop but also the sweetest, even if his sense of humor was often just as crass as the others.

Pretty soon after she started her job, the effects of Eloise’s laziness combined with a snacking became evident. And the first became evident as the pounds started to pile onto and pad her precious butt.

Eloise had always been proud of her perfect posterior, even though she had never done anything to earn it. But her job of mostly just sitting in a chair all day meant that her butt soon became incredibly flabby. Plenty of pounds from her frequent snacking settled right in her butt cheeks, inflating them into spongy sacks of sagging fat. She developed two mushy ass cheeks, filled with flab and covered in cellulite. They stretched out the skirts she liked to wear, but on the plus side they did also make her desk chair a lot more comfortable (at least while she could still fit in it.)

The fit of her desk chair came into question thanks to the widening of her hips which went along with the expanding of her ass and the thickening of her thighs. Eloise’s thighs became especially flabby. Thanks to the short skirts the was so often fond of wearing, skirts that grew shorter as her butt grew bigger and pushed them further upward, Eloise's thunder thighs were frequently on display, cottage cheese cellulite and all, as they shook and slapped together with each step that she took. When she sat down in her chair, which seemed to shrink by the day, her fat thighs spilled outward and squished together to give her a very fat lap.

And onto that squishy lap spilled the fat belly that she grew.

That gut of hers grew as a result of all the fast food lunches she was given, orders whose size grew right along with the rest of her. She was soon starting to match many of the guys in their gluttony as she stuffed herself during lunch, and then after work, and before work. Calorie counting, something Eloise was already loath to do, was gone forever as Eloise gave in to indulgence, indulgence that turned her trim tummy into a very generous pot belly.

Her pot belly pushed against the buttons of her blouses and spilled out the bottoms of her shirts. It came paired with matching love handles to complete the mighty muffin top, and it jiggled with every movement she made. Her blubbery belly was a soft spongy ball of fat that quivered like a bowl of jello whenever she laughed along with the guys’ jokes, something that became more frequent the more time she spent with them. 

The other thing that became more frequent with time was the frequency in which she outgrew her outfits. Clothes got tighter. Seams stretched and then snapped. Buttons blew off and the seats of her pants blew out all as her once slender body continued to blow up. 

As she continued to size up her clothes, Eloise also began to size up Floyd, and just like her own physical measurements, her measurements of Floyd’s character drastically changed. His sweetness, even sweeter than the ice cream that she loved to stuff her face with, was catching. And since that rule about dating coworkers was an unwritten one, Eloise eventually came on to the fat man herself. 

After she started dating Floyd, she also began to take a much bigger interest in the business as a whole. (All while still getting bigger herself.) She had the idea that if she actually learned more about the business and how cars worked in general she would be a better front desk worker which was true. It also meant more bonding with the guys which meant even more food.

Eloise’s body expanded further. Fitting someone who worked in an auto body shop, Eloise grew a massive spare tire. Her breasts swelled further. Her thighs grew thicker, and her ass grew far fatter and flabbier. These changes continued even after she married Floyd. But she didn’t care. She had long since given up any thought of ever being thin again. Others may look at her in judgement, but Floyd and food made Eloise perfectly content.

Floyd and Eloise, the fat and happy couple, eventually took over the business from Floyd’s father after he finally decided to retire, content that the business was in good hands. Eloise couldn’t be happier. She was stronger than she ever thought she could be. She proved to be smarter than anyone ever gave her credit for. And she stopped being lazy.

She sure as hell was fat though. And that was all good by her.

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

“Thick Burger: Popstar”

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

Cooper Quick, Cici or C to her friends, loved being a popstar. She loved the attention. She loved flaunting her talent and her body. She loved the thrill of the crowd of screaming fans. 

But she loved the money the most. 

And Thick Burger was supposed to be easy money. 

That’s how it starts though isn’t it?

Cooper paraded around on camera in her skimpy tour outfits, short cut dresses that hugged her tight figure and showcased her curves. She had plenty of outfits with holes strategically cut out of the middle to show off her hard earned abs. She loved to flaunt those sexy muscles, the ultimate signal of her dedication to the gym life. Her outfits also made sure to put plenty of cleavage on display, so fans could really salivate as she gyrated while eating “Thick Burger’s New Gyro Sandwiches”. Her muscles flexed as she ate, and she let the sauce sexily drip down her chin and into her quivering cleavage. She moaned in delight with each bite.

That delight filled moan was not forced at all.

It turned out that the new “Thick Burger Gyro Sandwiches” were incredibly delicious. Their tzatziki sauce was like crack. And they came loaded with fries as well. Cici had a hard time putting them down. She had never really considered Thick Burger as a viable food option before, and in fact she had spent a lot of time denigrating their fat clientele, but now she could see what they were onto. 

The delights of Thick Burger, once something Cooper viewed as forbidden to her, soon became a regular occurance. She started to gleefully work her way through the menu, eating extra meals far beyond the ones that she needed to consume while shooting the commercials. And soon the commercials began to change.

Cici didn’t just gyrate around. She started to move like a belly dancer, and that was mostly because her precious abs had melted and turned into a rather generous belly. That belly shook and folded over on itself as Cici danced for the camera all while still seductively eating her food. And with each bite, her mouth got wider, eager to take in even more food. Each new bite also brought a new sighting of her double chin, something that began to become more prominent the longer the ad campaign went on.

The more commercials that Cooper shot meant the more pounds piled onto her previously lithe frame. The ad campaign was so successful that demand was constantly increasing. This meant that Cooper’s schedule became busier with her tour dates, album recording, and the commercials. With all of this, plus her extracurricular eating meant that her performance as a popstar began to suffer.

Onstage the formerly athletic performer was now waddling about quickly getting winded between songs. Some of her fans were even more fervent because of this, but even many of the body positive crowd were no longer happy with the lack of quality in her concerts because she was constantly stuffing her face and growing fatter by the day. This caused a lack of ticket sales. A lack of ticket sales led to canceling show dates, canceling show dates meant that Cooper found herself with a lot more time to sit on her continuously fattening ass.

She began to grow into an obese couch potato, this meant that something had to go, and that something ended up being her gym time.

Once Cooper stopped going to the gym, her weight really started to balloon. But her outfits never changed. If anything they got skimpier. Between fetishists obsessed with Cooper’s growing figure and all of the other gossip hounds who just loved the idea of her getting fat and humiliating herself, the ads kept going consistently viral.

And Cooper’s chubby body kept getting fatter.

She began regularly bursting out of her outfits as her big breasts expanded further, surging forward as mounds of quivering flesh. She had to keep constantly applying coconut oil to keep them from getting covered in stretch marks. She did the same thing to her belly, and her hips, and her thighs and ass. Every part of her kept expanding, kept getting softer, saggier. She was spilling out in folds of flabby fat. This all alarmed her greatly. She didn’t like losing control of her body like this.

But she couldn’t control her appetite.

Thick Burger was just too good, too addicting. She was nothing but a helpless greedy piggy whenever it was in front of her, and when it wasn’t in front of her she wanted nothing more than to have some. It was practically all she could think about. And as her popstar career crumbled, her pig-star career picked up.

It turns out that Cooper Quick had been a notorious spendthrift while she was at the height of her powers and that kept her in incredible debt. All of this plus her ever increasing food budget meant that she had no choice but to keep working for Thick Burger which meant that her commercials were no longer mainstream. Instead Thick Burger kicked her specifically to their fetish advertisement division and CiCi ended up making lots of degrading videos specifically to draw in people interested in watching the formerly slim and sexy popstar now turned into a bloated and greedy pig desperately degrading herself just to fill her big greedy gut.

And degrade herself she did.

The regular sexy outfits were still things that she tried to squeeze into on occasion. It was funny to watch her wear two dresses, one on each thigh as if they were garters. She also regularly crawled around on all fours in a pink bikini, her pigkini as she called it while oinking and stuffing her face.

This was what Cooper’s life had become, an endless loop of feeding and humiliation, and she was so obsessed with the feeding part that she no longer cared about the humiliation at all. The food kept her happy, and there was always plenty of food.

Meanwhile, Thick Burger was on the lookout from the star of their next big ad campaign.

Somewhere on a beach, was Libby Cobbler, sipping a matcha, her signature, right as her phone began to ring.

Round 2: Vote for the Next Round of Exclusive Cuts

Wow! This race is so close, and there are so many options, that I think the fairest thing to do is narrow it down to the top two vote getters and see what happens.

With that said, that leaves us with "Swimsuit Edition" and "Slob City". "Swimsuit Edition" was in the lead but only by 4% points. Let's see how things go now that "Oops All Magic" and it's 19% points is free to go elsewhere. I'll leave the poll up for the weekend and announce the winner on Monday.

If you'd like an idea of what "Slob City" might look like, you can see it HERE.

Those more interested in "Swimsuit Edition" might enjoy this collection HERE. It's all about arrogant athletes. You might also like this collection HERE based around role reversal.

I even have a couples edition already right HERE.

And, of course, there's my latest edition of "Exclusive Cuts": "Sorority Swells" right HERE.

In fact, I have many, MANY patreon exclusive stories, stories that I have not and will not post anywhere else. You can read most of them all right HERE.

Vote for the Next Round of Exclusive Cuts

We are a month out from Fattest Tuesday 2! That's right. March 4th is Mardi Gras which means we're closing in on another Fat Tuesday Week and another Fattest Tuesday.

Last year, that meant I spent a week posting stories every day, sometimes two in a day. My plan for this year is to publish at least TWO stories every day!

Ambitious? Certainly! Foolhardy? Perhaps.

But as part of the Fat Tuesday Week, I'd like to release the next volume of Exclusive Cuts (which I have not done since Sorority Swells). In keeping with what I did last time, I'm going to give you a list of collection titles below, and you can vote on the one you want to see. Then, I'll go ahead and write that collection of Exclusive Cuts. (The second place vote will get one or two exclusive stories for Even More BS members along with at least one extra story based on the first place winner.)

If you'd like an idea of what "Slob City" might look like, you can see it HERE.

Those more interested in "Swimsuit Edition" might enjoy this collection HERE. It's all about arrogant athletes. You might also like this collection HERE based around role reversal.

I even have a couples edition already right HERE.

And, of course, there's my latest edition of "Exclusive Cuts": "Sorority Swells" right HERE.

In fact, I have many, MANY patreon exclusive stories, stories that I have not and will not post anywhere else. You can read most of them all right HERE.

Quick Update:

Hey Everyone,

Quick update from me. I know it has been a while since I've posted. I have been knocked out with a cold for a little over a week that has made doing pretty much anything other than dragging myself through my regular work activities pretty much impossible.

The good news is I am only one story away from finishing "Fat Trimmings" Volume 41 (and I've already started it) so I'm hoping to have that volume posted by today or tomorrow.

My writing schedule looks like this:

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 41

"Extra Slice #4"

"The Fat Making Notebook Goes Grocery Shopping" (Extended Edition)

"Nightmare Pigs 2" Chapter 2

I am hoping to find the time and energy to accomplish this all this week.

Suggest a Fat Making Notebook Story

The Fat Making Notebook is coming back.

Sometime next week on Deviant Art I plan on releasing "Fat Trimmings" Volume 30 which includes "The Fat Making Notebook Goes Shopping". This means you can expect and extended cut of that story posted here.

But I also want to include two new "Fat Making Notebook" stories in volume 41 and volume 42 which will be coming to patreon in the next two weeks. And I want you ideas!

Pitch me locations for the Fat Making Notebook to go and I will take the two that intrigue me the most and make stories out of them.

Pitch away!

As a side note: For Even More BS tier patrons, I'd love to do more Madame Zara fattening fortune stories (Which can be read in Extra Slices #2 and #3 HERE and HERE, and you can pitch those ideas over on the Discord.)

If you'd like to pitch ideas about being being given fattening fortunes as punishment for their vanity you can do so if you're a member of my 7 dollar Even More BS tier and you can upgrade HERE.

(Reminder: upgrading your tier only costs you the difference during your first month.)

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 40 EXTRA LARGE EDITION

Some stats: This volume of "Fat Trimmings" comes out to three extra long short stories that total over 6,500 words. When combined with "Extra Slices" #4 that means I'm releasing over 11,000 words worth of content today spanning five stories. I'm pretty sure this volume contains my longest Thick Burger story yet at over 3,100 words (but I might be wrong about that.)

Enjoy!

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“Big News”

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Kathy Kahn was an absolute shark. In front of the camera she presented to everyone as sharp in every way, both with an absolutely stunning figure that made people both incredibly jealous and filled them with incredible lust, and with an intelligent mind that made her adept at cracking big news stories and presenting them in a way others could understand. She was also filled with such raw charisma, something added by her incredible looks and talent, and her winning personality shown through in front of the camera. She came off as knowledgeable and shrewd but also kind and approachable. She was an absolute unicorn.

And behind the camera she was an absolute wicked witch. A bitch in high heels, Kathy wasn’t afraid to step on anyone who got in her way. In fact, she seemed to seek it out. It wasn’t enough for her to rack up personal and professional accomplishments, she had to make sure other people couldn’t come close to touching them. She castigated, she dominated, she enjoyed subjugating others and ruining promising careers as sacrifices to her own. Kathy made sure that anyone who could possibly become competition for her either worked underneath her or didn’t work at all.

Kathy had been that way since high school when she was the queen bee of her school, the head cheerleader, the homecoming and prom queen, and the student body president. In college she was the president of her sorority. She was top of her class and an intern that broke into the news industry very quickly thanks to her smarts, looks, and fierce cunning. Since then she was a house on fire, burning down everyone she saw as a threat.

Her ruthless desire to crush every perceived threat by way of ruining careers, and her own arrogance and vanity would come back to bite her in what would become her big fat ass. 

One of those threats that Kathy looked to squash was Mara. Mara was a good looking young woman, though a fair bit chubbier than Kathy as Kathy was always eager to point out. More than that Mara was charismatic and talented. She had an eye for stories, and she had a real diligence when it came to reporting. She had everything one needs to be a successful reporter and on-air talent. 

So obviously Kathy made her her intern with the idea of making her fetch coffee and run other errands until she ran her out of the industry completely. It was a fairly simple plan. She would make Mara do nothing but grunt work, and then, when she quit the internship, Kathy would use that as evidence of a lack of drive, dedication, and loyalty, and have her blackballed from the industry. It was something Kathy had already done several times before. 

But there was a problem. 

Mara was too good. She was too perceptive, too detailed oriented, too witty. In short, she was too useful. And Kathy couldn’t just use her for grunt work. She began to rely on Mara more and more for any number of work related things, shoveling most of her pre-on camera work onto Mara. But, of course, she never let Mara get any kind of credit. 

This lack of recognition on top of being extremely overworked was the final straw for Mara. She began to plot her revenge. She wanted to expose Kathy. But it wasn’t enough to just expose Kathy as a fraud. 

She wanted to expose Kathy as a big FAT fraud. 

Yes, taking away the two things Kathy prided herself on the most, her perfect looks and her career, was what Mara wanted to do. And then she would supplant her boss and soar in her own career, something that would further rub salt in Kathy’s wounds. 

Mara loved to picture Kathy sitting and sobbing into her latest fast food feast, a double cheeseburger with french fries and a large milkshake to wash it all down with, while her fat body burst out of her once fitting and now food stained blouse. She wanted to make Kathy blubber like a big fat blubbery baby. 

And it turns out fattening up her vain boss was fairly easy.

It started with small things, switching Kathy’s diet cokes for regular, upping the sugar content of her coffee orders and changing the skim milk for heavy cream, and adding extra dressing to her salads. She started prompting Kathy to engage in bad habits, indulging in snacks and orders of late night fast food when working on a big story, then any story, and then completely any work at all became a cause for celebration which meant a night out drinking and plenty of greasy fattening food to combat a potential hangover.

Mara also took advantage of the fact that she was in charge of Kathy’s calendar, and she regularly scheduled things to make her too busy or too tired to get to the gym. Once that was done it was easy to get Kathy eating bigger lunches and more often, and she needed way more caffeine and sugar to get her going in the morning which meant calorie bomb coffee monstrosities that made her feel good until the inevitable sugar crash which led to drinking high calorie, high sugar energy drinks to keep her going.

Soon, the pounds piled on.

It was very amusing for Mara to watch the formerly flawless Kathy suddenly struggling to fit into her professional attire. Her body began to change rather rapidly as more calories were introduced to her system. It turns out, for all her strengths, Kathy’s one major weakness was that she had a frighteningly fragile metabolism, and the sugar the she was consuming was sucked up and rapidly settled as fat around her midsection. Her sexy abdominal muscles were lost pretty much immediately as a soft layer of fat covered them. Then that one soft layer gained another, and another, and soon Kathy’s softened stomach was a sack of fat, a pudgy pot belly that fought with the buttons of her blouses and rolled over the waistbands of her pants.

Mara loved watching Kathy’s belly jiggle. It had such a surprising amount of spring to it considering how fit she used to be, but as Kathy got fatter, the jiggling of her pot belly became more pronounced. It bobbed up and down whenever she moved, and it quivered as she ate her meal until those meals became huge feasts that left her blubber belly bloated and hard as a rock.

Kathy’s butt grew blubbery as well. She developed a real fat desk ass with chunky cheeks covered in cellulite that inflated with fat. Those spongy butt cheeks filled out her desk chair quite nicely and lifted her quite a bit from her seat as they grew larger in size. They were soft and saggy, and they stretched out any skirts or pants that Kathy tried to squeeze her fattening body into. Her plump posterior still turn heads but not in the way Kathy was used to. As it grew larger, fatter, most people began to watch it as it bounced up and down like each chunky cheek had a mind of its down, and they wondered how long it would be before her fat ass burst out of whatever it was wearing. Would her blubber butt blow out the seat of her pants today or next week? Would her skirt seam give out within the month or within the next minute? How many more meals could her wardrobe take? 

Her hips grew widering to match the growing girth of her ass, and her thighs grew thicker as well. Her previously toned limbs turned to mushy, pasty fat that slapped together and reverberated as she walked. Her legs were full of jiggle. The muscle was lost thanks to lack of gym time, and her thick thunder thighs became incredibly squishy. Her legs completely lost any kind of definition as even her calves and ankles grew bloated with fat. Her feet filled her stylish shoes which soon became uncomfortable (even more uncomfortable than the laws of fashion normally dictated) thanks to the added fat that now filled them as her toes became like plump little sausages. The added discomfort brought about by the bloating of her fat feet made Kathy far less agile and far more clumsy than she used to be. She was now a person prone to plodding, and the thickness of her thunder thighs which were already slapping together as she walked meant that she grew closer and closer to waddling about with each new meal, something that her co-workers were thrilled about as the cattily gossiped behind the formerly fit Kathy’s broadening back.

Even Kathy’s arms grew hilariously fat. Mara didn’t realize she could get such amusement from watching something as subtle as a person's arms grow bloated and flabby, but watching Kathy fill out the sleeves of her blouses with flabby bingo wings was exceedingly comical. Mara especially loved it whenever Kathy wore outfits with short or no sleeves. She loved watching the way Kathy’s fat arms would wobble as she shoved more food into her fat face.

That face was growing fatter by the day. It became bloated by beer and fast food, and her once sharp cheekbones disappeared, replaced by jiggling jowls, and her previously well defined jawline lost the battle against weight gain and gave way to a sagging and doughy double chin that inflated further every time she opened her fat mouth to take another greedy bite of greasy food. 

Kathy’s breasts grew as well, but they mostly grew soft and saggy. Without the perkiness that they used to have, they began to sag downward onto the shelf of her big blubbery belly. What really drew attention to Kathy’s chest as she grew fatter was not so much the size of her sagging stretch marked breasts and much more the crumbs and assorted food and drink stains that ended up decorating her tops.

She had gone from looking like a perfect prim and proper professional to looking like an absolute pig, and people quickly took notice. She was a bloated blubber butt whose fattening figure led to faltering confidence. Kathy was becoming a mess, and not just because she had taken to eating her meals like an absolute hog. She was stammering like Porky Pig as one mistake after another piled up, and on more than one occasion her messy wardrobe humiliatingly malfunctioned both behind the scenes and on camera. Eventually, the inevitable happened.

Kathy got canned. Fat Kat’s career was effectively over. Her confidence was forever crushed, and the comfort eating that followed caused her formerly trim waistline to absolutely balloon. Nobody wanted to hire Kathy, and it wasn’t just because her reputation as a journalist was as soiled as her blouses. It turns out then when you build your career by cutting down a lot of people, those same people are eager to take those knives and stab you in the back. And they were equally eager to kick Kathy when she was down. Fat Kat was soon blackballed just as she had had done to so many others.  

Money became a real issue, and with nobody in the business willing to higher her, Kathy tried to go independent. But she lacked the drive. She lacked the grit. And most importantly she lacked the resources she had developed including previous contacts who now turned their backs on her. So Kathy ended up trying to bank on what was left of her media personality and personal following and pivot to more lifestyle kinds of pieces. She developed a decent following among foodies and therefore did a lot of restaurant reviews and recipes.

And eating.

It turns out a large number of people were intrigued by the idea of Kathy eating. And not just eating.

They wanted to see her really stuff her face.

Mukbanging became a huge part of her business, and when she did those kinds of videos her messiness was no longer a hindrance, in fact her piggishness was a boon to business. People loved to watch her goal whole hog. A large portion of her videos became about Kathy eating and showing off just how fat she had become. And as this part of her business gained traction, and as her food budget continued to increase, Kathy started to open up her business model to a whole new stream of revenue, custom video requests.

Meanwhile, Mara’s own career was on the rise. She succeeded by being talented and by making friends within the industry. Mara didn’t cut people down. She helped bring people up. She built a team around her, and people were eager to work with Mara and see her succeed knowing that her success would ensure their own success in the long term.

Of course, Mara also kept tabs on Kathy's burgeoning new career, and her ever widening waistline. And when the ability to commission Fat Kat for custom videos arose, Mara knew exactly how she wanted to humiliate her favorite pig even further. She grabbed her credit card with glee and started writing out a script for Fat Kat to enact.

(And if you'd like to see the video that Mara commissioned in a story that is over 3,000 words long and is full of humiliation, it is available exclusively to Even More BS tier patrons right HERE.)

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“A Fattening in Outer Space

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Lieutenant Avery was the last surviving member of her crew when their ship landed on a planet none of them were expecting to find. And when she found the aliens that came for her, she thought for sure that they were going to eat her.

But it was quite the opposite.

Her whole life, Avery had been an athletic person. Fitness was something she had dedicated her life to, both physical fitness and mental fitness. She was a naturally hard worker with a determined attitude. It made her a force both in the gym and outside of it. She had everything in her to be a natural leader. She was confident, perceptive, intelligent, strong and agile and all of these qualities  added up to make her an excellent astronaut.

She thought that, perhaps, it was these qualities that the aliens so admired about her. As they poked and prodded her her fit figure, she thought maybe they had a strange sense of shared beauty with humans. Avery had been told her whole life that she was beautiful. It was part of what made her so popular. Her beauty and athleticism made her a two sport athlete in track and swimming, and she even found time to cheer. It was this popularity that led to a lot of social successes. She had been student body president in high school and college and president of her sorority. She was working to assist her community while training to become an astronaut and was known for giving back and working to inspire women in science. She had aims for political office upon her return to earth, and even envisioned herself becoming president.

Would that ever come close to happening now?

The aliens' continued touch brought her train of thought back to her original thought. As they stripped her of her space suit (and she found to her surprise that this was a very oxygen rich planet) she wondered if this planet with its atmosphere very similar to earth could have similar beauty standards too.

And then the food started coming.

Avery didn’t know what the food was. She just knew that it was delicious. And it was plentiful. The aliens fed her until she was no longer hungry, but they did not take that as a signal to stop. They fed her more. And more. They would not stop. And as they fed her her body began to grow.

The evidence of a lifetime of dedication to physical fitness soon vanished. Whatever the food was that Avery was being fed, it must have been extremely high in calories and it did its work fast. Her abs vanished as her stomach started to rise like bread dough in front of her very eyes. It truly was like a balloon, staying taught for a long time. Avery feared the aliens had somehow impregnated her, but that fear subsided as her stomach back to sag down toward her knees, forming a gelatinous apron of soft, quivering fat. Then the only fear she had was just how fat she was getting.

The aliens seemed to love her belly. They took great care to fondle it as it grew but also to cover it in fabulously scented oils that stretched her skin without causing stretch marks to form. They pinched at her and seemed to tease out thick and growing love handles, great meaty slabs of fat to join her ever growing blubbery belly.

Avery’s waist widened along with her belly. Her hips grew larger, rounded out, and so did her ass. She could feel it. She sat while she was fed by the aliens, and she could feel her muscular butt cheeks soften, becoming mushy and chunky and then push her entire body up as they inflated with fat. Her butt grew to be quite bulbous with big broad cellulite covered cheeks that again avoided stretch marks as the aliens pushed her forward to massage her blubbery butt.

The former lieutenant’s thighs thickened as well. They became saggy pillars of fat. Her thickening thunder thighs filled her lap and pushed her legs out. Her stance grew wider, and if she was allowed to move she would certainly have no choice to to waddle about. Her calves and ankles grew fatter until they merged into large bloated cankles, and even her dainty feet grew bloated with fat and developed fat toes. Anyone looking at Avery would have been hard pressed to think she was anything but a lifelong couch potato, someone who spent all her time stuff her fat gut and sitting on her fat ass, not someone who had been so dedicated to physical fitness, someone, who once could have been a model and ran a marathon was turned into a blob, a slow lumbering thick thighed cow.

And the cow comparisons became more appropriate as her breasts grew. They swelled up like balloons into great big udders. The were like the size of beach balls and were still outpaced by her great big sphere of a belly.

Avery’s arms grew fat. Her previously lithe limbs developed flabby bingo wings. They were pillowy soft, and massively fat, and they ended with chubby hands and fat greedy looking sausage fingers.

Her face grew fat as well, redundantly round with bright cherubic cheeks that swelled up and made her eyes look beady. Her chin inflated into a doughy second one, and she still felt an incredible desire to stuff her fat face. She didn’t need to be fed at this point. She wanted to eat.

At first, as she ate like a pig and felt like a big bloated cow, Avery was afraid that she was indeed being fattened up like some kind of livestock. But that was not the case. It took her quite a while to notice, mostly because she kept getting distracted by all of the delicious food that she kept eating, but eventually Avery realized that what they were actually doing was engaging in some kind of worship. To them, Avery was some kind of gluttonous goddess. She guessed that the first feeding was some kind of test and she had somehow fulfilled some kind of prophecy. Once she reached that point she was set for life, clothed in what she guessed must have been expensive fabrics that did not constrict her globular body and carried off to a temple to be worshiped for as long as she lived.

She had to be carried because by the time she had ascended to godhood Avery was also so fat as to be completely immobile. She didn’t know how massive she was, the aliens had presented her with no scales, and she doubted she would be able to interpret their number system if she did. She just knew that she noted that the planet she had landed on had lower gravity than earth, so be be immobile here must have meant she was massive.

Still, she didn’t care. She was cared for, and she was comfortable. Sure, she would miss being back home, but she enjoyed being worshipped. And she figured that, technically speaking, being a goddess sure did beat being president.

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“Thick Burger Undercover”

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Rowan fancied herself a reporter. She didn’t have much of a following yet, but she had done an internship or two. And sure, she had found herself drummed out of her last one, but that was more because of a bitch if a boss, Kathy Kahn, than anything else. Still, it was a bit of a black spot on her résumé, maybe even a career death sentence depending on who you asked, so Rowan knew she had to be careful. And, ironically, she also knew she had to be bold and go really big with whatever news piece she was going to do to get her career back on track. 

Thick Burger seemed like the perfect target. It was clearly leading to a rise in obesity rates. They must have been doing something to create such an addictive product. Some kind of formula, maybe some kind of elaborate subliminal messages in their marketing campaigns. Others had tried and failed to bust Thick Burger in the past, with disastrous, humiliating, and fattening results. But Rowan was different from those people. She was better than them. She had a plan. 

She was going to take down Thick Burger from the inside out. 

It was the perfect plan really, a classic investigative reporter move. She would get employed with the company, record what she could, and work her way through the ranks until she got ahold of the evidence she needed to break the case wide open and take Thick Burger down for good. 

Plus, she needed some gainful employment at the moment as she was struggling to make the rent on her apartment while blowing through her savings (and the small bit of earnings she made selling pictures of her feet). So she really needed to be thorough and make this investigation work. It was going to be her big break. 

Rowan just didn’t realize how big she was going to get. 

Thick Burger was full of fat people, which Rowan didn’t care for. Rowan had considered herself slim and sexy all her life, and generally found fat people to be greedy and lazy. She certainly found them to be extremely unattractive. Fatties were people who should feel ashamed of themselves and actually work on being better instead of falling into the same traps over and over again. 

Rowan had spent so much of her life living with pretty privilege and looking down on fat people. She regularly thought of fatties as greedy pigs, lazy hogs. She wasn’t afraid to call them that when she was around her other vain and pretty friends. And she had plenty of experience calling fat people out and making mean jokes right to their fat faces. Sometimes it brought her real pleasure to bring someone so low, an act that always made Rowan feel superior.

Of course, Rowan did feel at least a little bad for these fatties. Thick Burger had clearly tricked them used some kind of serum or additive or something to make them helplessly addicted lardos, pathetic pigs, hopeless hogs, and solving this Thick Burger problem was going to make the world a better, and thinner place. Those fatties would fall to their knees (an act that would surely send their blubbery bodies jiggling) once Rowan helped them turn their miserable piggish lives around.

One of the hardest parts was getting the interview and then getting the job. Rowan was very surprised to see that apparently employee turnover at Thick Burger was incredibly low. Then when she got to the interview her prospective manager, and incredibly large woman named Tammy-Lynn asked some weird questions. 

“Do ya love burgers, hun?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Sweetheart, I asked if ya love burgers. Cause if ya gonna work here than ya gotta love burgers, suga.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course! I love burgers. Love em! They’re…. They’re a passion.”

Tammy-Lynn’s multiple chins wobbled as she gave a slow nod of approval. 

“That’s what I want ta hear, dumplin. Cause we a family owned company here-uh. And we’re all about the family, and family is all about the love.”

“I love love almost as much as I love burgers.”

“Well then, welcome aboard, sweetie pie. We’ll start you off at thirty-five dollars an hour.”

Rowan’s jaw practically hit the floor. 

“Come again?”

“Thirty-five dollars an hour,” echoed Tammy-Lynn with a beaming smile that showed off her deep dimples.

“That… that’s a lot.”

“And we pay your medical insurance.”

“Y-you- you pay my-“

“With dental.”

“Dental!?!?”

Tammy-Lynn draped one big fat arm across Rowan’s slender shoulders. 

“Jellybean, we’re a big ol family here at Thick Burger. We love our family. And we show love to our family members because we believe that when we share that love with you, you’re gonna put that love in the food and pass that love on to the customer. And that’s how our wonderful family grows.”

“Well, I’m certainly ready to grow with you!” beamed Rowan with no sense of how prophetic her words were. 

“I’m sure you are,” replied Tammy-Lynn with a knowing smile. 

So Rowan got to work, and what she found was nothing short of shocking.

It was shocking how little she was able to get her hands on. Or, more specifically, how little she was able to get her hands on when it came to interesting things that she could use. Rowan worked at Thick Burger for several months, certain that she could work her way into the confidence of someone who could tell her what was going on. She was prepared to snoop around, to be extra sneaky and cunning, and to line the pockets of whoever she needed to bribe thanks in no small part to her generous Thick Burger paycheck. But she kept coming up short.

There were no subliminal messages in Thick Burger’s marketing. Sure, they were often wholesome and usually catchy. They were sleek and often filled with incredible production value, and they were everywhere. Thick Burger ads were plentiful. But there was nothing wrong with that, not legally anyway, and Rowan wasn’t some crusader looking to play the moral angle. That wasn’t news in the first place, and in the second place she was now watching the last person who tried to make Thick Burger into a morality tale waddling around on camera and touting the product while rubbing her big blubbery belly with delight.

Then there was the food itself.

Nobody was injecting the food with anything to her knowledge. She tracked the whole production process. While behind the counter she had never been asked once to tamper with any of the food items in anyway. First, she thought there must have been added to the burger meat, but that wasn’t the case. Then she thought maybe it was in the avocados, Thick Burger’s most popular topping. But no! It turned out people just liked avocados because they were delicious and the good kind of fat. There wasn’t even extra sugar in the sodas!

Sure, there was a secret proprietary blend of herbs and spices, but people weren’t even being very secretive about that. Once she became a Thick Burger employee, Rowan found someone who was willing to sing like a canary very quickly. She didn’t even have to bribe him for it! He just told her every little ingredient in exact proportions. She knew every damn thing about the recipe down to all the precise procedures that she was supposed to follow. But all of that information was mostly useless to her in terms of journalism. She thought at least momentarily about engaging in some light corporate espionage, but she decided that was too short sighted. Besides, even with the exact recipe and procedures she couldn’t truly replicate the exact product.

That was actually becoming a problem. Whenever, Rowan was on kitchen duty, her burgers got several complaints, never many because she was following everything she was supposed to do, but she was still somehow the only person getting complaints. Even when she sampled her own work she didn’t think the burger was anything to write home about. Sure, it was pretty damn tasty, way tastier than she would have ever made on her own, but it wasn’t the hopelessly addicting thing she had been drawn to writing about. Even when she added avocado to it!

One day, that brought Tammy-Lynn’s fat arm right back around Rowan’s shoulders as the two stood in front of the grill.

“Sweet pea, we have got to talk. Now, I don’t much like coming down on people like this, but it’s just not looking like you’re burger cooking is up to our high standards, my little chickidee.”

“So I’m fired?”

“Fired? Lawd, no. We’re a family here. And a family supports each other. I’m just gonna help give you a little retraining is all, so you can be the best you can be, my little butterbean.”

Tammy-Lynn fired up the grill and went to work.

“I’ve followed all the guidelines.”

“That’s just it, mon cheri, those are guidelines. But what really matters is the love. Ya gotta feel it. Like I said when I hired ya. Ya gotta love the burger. Close your eyes. Listen to that sizzle. Love is listening. Just love that burger and let it tell you when to flip her. She knows.”

Rowan was dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry. Are you seriously telling me that the secret ingredient is love?”

“It’s not much of a secret,” shrugged Tammy-Lynn as she prepped the burger on a toasted and buttered bun.

“You’re telling me, that Thick Burger is so addicting, that so many people have had their lives changed, gotten so incredibly fat because every Thick Burger is made with love? That’s it. Love?”

“Have you ever actually tried a Thick Burger made with love, honeybee?”

Rowan had to shake her head. The entire time she had worked at Thick Burger she had stuck to the healthier menu items during her shift meals and only ever eaten burgers that she had cooked herself.

Tammy-Lynn held the simple burger toward her.

“Eat.”

With a bit of trepidation, Rowan did as she was told. And then her eyes went wide.

It was like a bolt of lightning struck her right between the eyes, and her mind was open to a brand new realm of possibilities. She saw the light! This wasn’t just the greatest burger she had ever eaten. This was the greatest thing she had ever eaten period! And when she was done she could only think of two things: how badly she wanted more Thick Burger and how much more delicious it would be if she added some avocado to it.

From that moment onward, Rowan was converted from cynical journalist to a true believer. The only investigation she did going forward was looking into which combination of toppings was her favorite. And she did that with gusto. Rowan consumed Thick Burger for meal after meal. She piled her burgers high with an array of toppings, creamy avocado, all types of gooey melty cheeses, and vast cadre of delicious sauces. Oh the sauces! They were tangy! They were sweet! The number of combinations that she could try were seemingly endless, and she was determined to try them all.

As she grew in her love of Thick Burger, Rowan’s slim and sexy body grew accordingly. Her trim waist became a thing of the past as her slender stomach became a bulging belly that pressed against the belt of her uniform until she could no longer wear it (which it turns out was something of a badge of honor to more seasoned Thick Burger employees.) Her belly ballooned, become more bloated and bulbous with every burger that she binged on. What was once something slim and toned had become gelatinous. Her gut was big, soft, jiggly and constantly greedy for more Thick Burger. The previously prim and proper woman who had prided herself on self-control was now the exact kind of fat greedy pig she would have normally made fun of. 

She had succumbed to the temptations of Thick Burger faster faster and harder than most and it showed in her stomach which became a sagging apron of fat, a big blubbery double belly that spilled over the waistband of her pants and made itself known, peeking out from any shirts she tried to wear. It was a blubbery mess that shook in front of her as she walked and jiggle whenever she ate until she managed to stuff herself so full that it became taut as a drum. Then Rowan would rub it in satisfaction and let out a triumphant and unladylike burp.

Her belly was the biggest thing about her, but it wasn’t the only part of her that had grown. Rowan’s thighs had become mighty thick as well. Her toned limbs became thick thunder thighs, and her days were sneaking about were long over. Thanks to the thickness of her thunder thighs, and the wideness of her hips, Rowan had a slow and pronounced waddle that also left her prone to knocking things over. With every labored step, Rowan’s flabby thighs shook and slapped together. She hated waddling around like a fatty. (Laughing at fatties waddling had been one of her favorite things to laugh at.) But she knew she had no choice. It wasn’t like she was going to be able to diet, so she just gave in and let her thick cellulite covered thunder thighs grow even thicker with heavy saddle bags that stretched the seams of her pants to the breaking point and beyond.

Of course, her thighs weren’t the only part of Rowan’s previously slim body that now burst seams. Rowan’s once perfect and perfect ass because huge, thick and spongy. It was incredibly how soft and saggy her once muscular backside had ballooned up into. Each of her chunky cheeks was a big fat ball of dimply dough that stretched her clothes past their limits. There was once a time that Rowan loved to brag about how tight and tone her ass was, but now it was a big blubbery dumper whose cheeks sagged onto the back of her tremendous thunder thighs. When she waddled, it bounced up and down and in all directions as the loose sloppy fat wobbled about. When she sat, chairs creaked under the weight of an ass that was so big that it spilled over the sides. She left dents in couches, a large permanent one on her couch at home, and anybody who looked at her ass would be hard pressed to guess that Rowan was anything other than a lifelong couch potato.

Even Rowan’s arms had gotten fat. Her previously lithe limbs became billowy with flabby bingo wings like soft pillows. There was so much fat that her flab started to roll over her elbows just like her thigh fat melted over her fat knees. Rowan’s arms her thick things that ended with chubby hands and sausage fingers that were perfect for greedily snatching up french fries. Her arms wobbled every time she raised another greasy item up to her greedy mouth, which was quite often. They were perfect for stuffing her face.

That face had grown right along with the rest of her fat body. Rowan now had jiggly jowls and a doughy double chin that obscured a large portion of her fat neck. People used to say that Rowan looked like a angel, or maybe a fairy. But now she just looked like a pig with her cheeks so chubby that they mad eyes look beady. Even her fat face wobbled as Rowan ate her food with ferocity. Her bloated face was the perfect testimony to just how much of a hog she had become. 

For a long time, Rowan was quite down about her expanding waistline, and her fattening body in general. She took to avoiding mirrors and became something of a recluse. Society and her own prejudice made Rowan hate her own body. After all, she had become everything she had always railed against and laughed at, a fatty. She told herself that she was a greedy pig, a blubbery mess and that that was shameful. 

But nobody else at Thick Burger treated her poorly. At Thick Burger she was met with nothing but love and support and endless kindness, especially from her manager, Tammy-Lynn. She was full of kind words.

“Doing great, sweet potato,” or “Looking good, porkchop,” were the kinds of things she would say. 

And, at first Rowan found that when Tammy-Lynn called her things like “porkchop” and “piglet” that she should be offended. But Tammy-Lynn never said them with a hint of malice. She never said anything with malice. She was sweeter than the new Double Chunk Chocolate Chip Snickerdoodles Thick Burger was pushing. So Rowan began to find all of her various pet names endearing.

Once that happened, Rowan truly began to love herself as much as she loved Thick Burger. And she began to come back out of her shell and be a far more sociable person, making lots of new friends and even reconnecting with her old friends.

Sure, some of the more vain friends needed some culling after they berated Rowan with a variety of unkind words and judgmental stares. Their prejudices were the last shreds of Rowan’s previous life, a reminder of how vain and catty she herself had been. She absorbed their blows (and many of them involved lots of literally poking, pinching, and jiggling of her fat and flabby body) even though some of them were exceptionally pointed and cruel.

“You’ve certainly changed. And not for the better.”

“For the fatter!”

“What happened to you? You used to be so hot, and now you’re so… not. You’re just so fat, so incredibly fat.”

“How could you get so fat? How could anyone get like this? It’s disgusting. You’re disgusting, fatty. You should feel ashamed of yourself.”

“Look at this blubber. It’s pathetic. Who would want to be seen with a pig like you? Oink. Oink.”

“It’s a shame really. You were so pretty before you became a pig.”

“You’re an absolute hog and I kinda love it. I mean, it’s gross and you should be ashamed. But it’s really funny now that you’re a fatty. Keep it up, Fatso.”

Rowan let all of those words wash right off her fat back. She may have been a big fat hog, but she was a happy hog.

And even some of those catty vixens changed their tune once Rowan introduced them properly to the wonder of Thick Burger.

After that, it was all about the love.

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If you loved these stories and want more, Even More BS tier patrons can read two more stories, "Fat Kat's Big Commission" and "Be a Pig" in "Extra Slices" #4 right HERE.

"Extra Slices" #4

Here are two new patreon exclusive stories totaling over 4,500 words.

Enjoy!

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“Fat Kat’s Big Commission”

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(This story takes place after "Big News" in "Fat Trimmings" Volume 40, and you may wish to read that first.)

“Look at me. Aren’t I a fat ass?”

Kathy Kahn spanked her ass for the camera and let it shake. There was a long moment of silence that put the heaviness of her hypnotically jiggling rear on full display. The audience could see every bit of cellulite thanks to the tight thing that had embedded itself in Kathy’s ass crack and been swallowed up by her chunky cheeks. 

It was hard to believe that this fat woman spanking herself for the camera was once a slender and professional reporter. 

By the time Kathy’s fat ass stopped jiggling and she turned around to face the camera, her chubby hands were already playing with the next part of her fat body. They slapped her belly like a drum, making wet slapping sounds as there was nothing taut about the flabby skin that made up her globular gut. Where there once was abs there was now nothing more than a blob of fat paired with matching love handles. All of that fat spilled so far over the front and sides of her ill-fitting panties that she looked almost naked from the waist down. Of course, it was hard to tell where her waist even began at this point thanks to the droopy nature of her fat, flabby body with its multitude of folds and rolls. 

Her turn toward the camera was well practiced. She stopped for a few moments when she was profile so everyone could get a good sense of just how droopy the apron of fat that had replaced her sexy six pack abs was. And while the audience had their eyes glued on her blubbery belly, she gave them a real show. She slid one hand below her soft underbelly and start to bounce her blubber up and down. It started slowly at first. One bounce. Two. Then Kathy sped herself up, bouncing her blubbery belly in an increasingly faster rhythm culminated in a great big two handed slap of her fat. 

By the time she finally turned toward the camera, Kathy was massaging her blubbery belly, kneading it like bread dough, pulling at it, lifting up and letting it plop back down and then slapping it and starting the process all over again. She hated it, hated the feeling of the loose saggy flesh oozing between her chubby sausage fingers, hated the softened of it, the weight of it, the heaviness of everything she was and everything she had lost. 

But she had no choice. 

So she kept going. 

“Yup. I’ve got a real blubber belly now. Can you believe it? There used to be abs under all of this fat somewhere.”

Her fingers poked at the flab, sinking in a solid inch of softness and digging around for any sign of muscle but finding absolutely none. Kathy’s belly was like an overstuffed pillow, a great big melting marshmallow of fat, a flabby spongy sack of blubber that could do nothing more than hang there uselessly like the rest of her fatty folds until she moved. When she moved, her belly shook like jelly. Even the slightest movement was enough to elicit quivering from the soft buttery flesh. Every part of her once trim and toned body was now loose and subject to jiggling at any moment.

“I used to have something called a waistline before my body went to seed and I got big and fat and flabby, sooooo flabby,” she mused as she pinched at her meaty love handles, teasing out the flesh as she teased out her words.

“Do you know I used to work out regularly? I can’t picture doing that anymore. Hell, I’m getting winded just thinking about a treadmill. Can you picture my big fat wobbly body trying to waddle on one of those things? I’d be afraid to break it under all my bulk. I’d look like such a loser trying to shift my massive weight from foot to foot with my massive thunder thighs shaking and rubbing together. And my ass, my big fat ass would be like an anchor of blubber slapping against the back of my fat thighs. I’d have trouble just keeping up with the lowest setting and end up winded after less than a minute. I’d be just a sweating, panting, pathetic mess. I’m so fat and weak now.”

Kathy grabbed her gut with both hands and looked directly down the camera with a knowing smile.

“But you’d like to see that, wouldn’t you? You’d love to see me try and fail to workout, being all weak and pathetic and helpless. Helpless. Yeah. You’d love to see that, you’d love to see the formerly powerful reporter, the legendary beautiful boss bitch, Kathy Kahn struggling now that I’ve been turned into a big fat pig, a weak pathetic blubbery mess. You’d love to see me helpless and as I struggle with even the simplest workout, as you watch me realize how hopeless it is to ever try and be thin again. You want to watch the dawn look of horror on my face as I realize that I’ll just be a big fat pig forever, doomed to get even fatter. It’s giving you ideas isn’t it? Well, my commissions are open, so you can put your money where my big fat mouth is, and I’ll do whatever you want. Remember, my higher tier subscribers get even bigger discounts on commissions, commissions just like this one.”

Kathy moans as she rubs her big blubbery belly, feeling the heft of the lower roll of fat in her hand as she bounces it up and down.

“That’s right. This video goes out to a former intern of mine who wishes to remain nameless because she thinks she’s a big shot now while her former hot boss is just a big fat pig. And she’s right. I am just a big fat pig. Oink. Oink.”

There was a slight air of hesitancy to Kathy’s oinks, just a bit of a trepidatious tremor. Kathy, ever the professional, couldn’t let it slide not matter how degrading and humiliating the act was. She was being paid to do a job, and she had standards to live up to, so she took it again.”

“Oink. Oink! I’m a big fat piggy. Oink! Oink! Oink! I’m supposed to tell all of you fine people that, all of you people who are better than me. I was a hot boss. I was slim and sexy and polished and professional, and now I’m good for nothing but being a big fat pig on camera, oinking for your amusement and showing off my big fat blubbery belly. I want you all to look at my fat body, look at these folds, these rolls, and see just how far I’ve fallen. Look at what I’ve done to myself.”

On cue, Kathy slapped her fat belly again, and the quiver radiated through her flabby flesh. Her entire arm trembled as well. The act of slapping her blubber set the fat of her bingo wings to wobble about. In fact, every part of Kathy’s soft, flabby body shook a bit thanks to the violence of her belly slap.

“I used to be so thin, just a skinny little vixen. I had long slim legs, perfect perky breasts, and a tight toned butt that was a real head turner. I had a rocking body that could make anyone do whatever I wanted. People fell over themselves for me because I was so outrageously hot, and I knew it. And I used that pretty privilege of mine to advance my career. I never really had talent, just a super hot body that I loved to flaunt about.”

The words were like poison in Kathy’s mouth, the way she had to discount her own talent and hard work and pretend she was just some slut who got by on her looks, but she knew that she had to say and do whatever her former intern turned rising media star, Mara, wanted. She was the one paying the bills, so she was the one in control, and, as she made very clear when she sent in her commission request, Kathy was her submissive piggy. She had no choice. She was at Mara’s mercy, and Mara had none to give, not after the way Kathy had treated her, so Kathy did as she was told like the good little piggy she had been turned into. The once powerful professional sadly continued to monologue now that she was nothing more than an obedient fat girl.

“I was so cruel to people. I loved to make fun of people who were fat. Of course, they weren’t nearly as fat as I am now. I’m an absolute pig. I’m a bloated whale. I make all of those fat people look skinny by comparison thanks to how fat, how OBESE, I am. I used to think I was so much better than everybody else, but now I’m just a huge hog, a big fat bloated pig, desperately showing off her fat useless body for money on the internet. Look at how pathetic I am to have to beg people to pay me to show off my blubber. I’m begging people to subscribe and commission more humiliating videos from me, all so I can afford to pay my massive food bill. It takes a lot of money to pay for all the food that’s needed to keep this big fat greedy piggy good and stuffed.”

Kathy rubbed her hands in circles around her big blubbery double belly. She lifted and slapped her fat and began to knead it yet again as she moaned in hunger.

“I was so trim and toned. I was beautiful. I had a body that people craved. I had a body that made me a cheerleader, and a prom queen, and a sorority president. I had a body that I loved to show off and lord over people every day. And then I lost it all because I couldn’t control myself. I was too arrogant, too greedy. I thought I could eat whatever I wanted and never gain a pound. I used to brag about that too. But karma and my metabolism caught up to me. It started with small changes. I started drinking more sugary things, eating more takeout, and then I just lost complete control of my diet.”

Kathy fought back tears as she prepared for the next part of the script. She had struggled just trying to read it when she first got the commission from Mara. It had made her furious, but, one feel better binge session later, and Kathy was ready to be professional and act it all out for the camera.

She back to rhythmically spank herself as she emphasized each point.

“And my intern helped make me fat.”

Spank.

“She fed me every step of the way.”

Spank.

“She watched as I ate more and more. She lined up temptation after temptation. She encouraged me to give in to my piggish nature. And I did. I let out the piggy that was always hiding inside me. I became the fatty that I was always meant to be, all while my intern watched and laughed behind my big fat broadening backside. She helped turn me into a complete fat ass, she helped make me into the big, fat, blubbery, greedy, gluttonous pig that you see performing before you today. But ultimately, this is my fault. I did this all to myself with my greed and gluttony and laziness. I could have gone on a diet. I could have been sensible. But I kept eating. Even when I knew the food was making me fatter, it was too good to resist. I couldn’t stop. I was greedy for more. So I stuffed myself. I stuffed myself like a good fat girl. I ate like a pig. I still eat like a pig because I am a pig. I’m a greedy fat girl, and deep down inside, there was always a greedy fat girl there. Even when I was at my best, my slimmest, my sexiest, my most in control, my fat fate was waiting. There was a pig inside me oinking, eager to come out and feed, and now here she is. Here I am. Oink. Oink. Oink. I’m the big fat piggy I was always meant to be. I’m not Kathy Kahn anymore. I’m sad, pathetic, Fat Kat. I’m a big fat piggish loser bigger than anyone I ever made fun of. Oink. Oink. Oink. I was hot and now I’m not. I was a professional, and now I’m a professional piggy. Oink. Oink. Oink.”

Fat Kat raised her fat blubbery arms over her head and began to wave them around. Her billowy bingo wings flapped about as she spun her arms in humiliating small circles. And then she began to dance, swinging her hips like an obese Shakira as she started to spin in a slow awkward circle. All of the fat that had piled on had robbed her of any sense of rhythm, and her fat folds flopped up in all directions. Her tree-trunk like thunder thighs, covered in cellulite, slapped together, and her big blubbery ass wobbled about as she slowly completed her ponderous turn, oinking the entire time, and allowed her fat hands to rest back on her blubbery double belly which she shook once again to emphasize its size.

“Are you happy, dear intern? I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was so rude to you. You were always better than me. I should have known that. I was always doomed to fail in your presence. I was always going to end up a groveling piggy at your feet. You’re the one in control now. Me? I’m nothing. I’m not hot anymore. I’m not in power. I’m a helpless fatty, a weak, fat pathetic loser. I’m useless. I’m a big dumb hog, a big FAT dumb hog. I’m your submissive piggy. My fat body is like soft clay for you to mold. You own me. I’m desperate to please you. I need your money and your domination. I’m desperate for money because I need to eat so much food to satisfy my big greedy gut and I keep getting so fat so fast that I keep needing new clothes. I’m an absolutely hopeless case.”

Fat Kat falls to her fat knees her entire body quivers as she moans about her fat flabby life.

“Everyone makes fun of me when I waddle on by. They call me names like Fatso and Lard Ass. They call me Piggy, Cow, Hippo, Whale. They call me Wideload as I knock things over with my double wide hips and my big fat ass.”

She shakes her flabby double belly. Fat Kat’s double chin inflates as she looks past her fat sagging breasts and down to her globular, gluttonous gut while cursing herself.

“I deserve this. You know that. I know that. I deserve to be a big fat pig desperate for people to make fun of her for money. I deserve to be down on my fat knees begging for forgiveness and food and playing with my fat so that all of the people I’ve ever treated badly can see how far I’ve fallen. Oink. Oink. Oink. Can’t you see how far I’ve fallen? How fat I’ve gotten. Oink. Oink. Oink. And just think. I’m not done! I’m going to be more of a pig. I’m going to get even fatter. This is my sad, fat, pathetic piggy life now. Oink. Oink. Oink. And you get to see it all unfold. I’ll do whatever you want, what ever you pay me to do. Oink. Oink. Oink. So remember to subscribe today and send in your commissions and watch me, Fat Kat, your favorite piggy, humiliate myself for money. Please give me money. Please feed me. I’m so fat. I need food. Please feed me. FEED ME. Make me fatter. Give me that food. I’m a fat greedy piggy who needs food food food. Feed me. Stuff me. Make me fatter. I’ll do it all for you. I’ll do whatever you want just for food. I’m that much of a greedy gluttonous pig. Oink. Oink. Oink. Help make me fatter please. Oink. Oink. Oink.

Fat Kat kept massaging her fat with one chubby hand and slapping it with the other as she kept oinking at the camera, furious oinks and squeals of humiliation and desperation, as the camera slowly faded to black.

The commenters ate Fat Kat’s latest video up.

“What a pig! I love her like this!”

“Serves her right. Gotta love a good vain hottie to hog story. I want even more.”

“Look at all that blubber! She’s gotten so big, and you just know she’s going to get even bigger.”

“I’m doing my part right now. I’m sending more food her way so she can stuff herself. Gotta keep the piggy fed. Gotta make my favorite hog even heavier.”

“#Karma4KathyKahn. It’s really and its fattening. Love it! #Piggy Oink. Oink. Oink.”

“Shake it, blubber butt! Shake it! You deserve this, piggy!”

“I can’t wait for more. I need more. Take my money! I’ve got some great ideas and can’t wait to see just how fat and humiliated she’s going to get.”

“Make her do another stuffing video. I want to see this piggy really hog out. Eat, Fatso! Eat!”

“Yeah! Eat up, Fatty and then try to exercise. Your failure is going to be so hot.”

“I’d pay to see that. I want to see more Fat Kat. Do a nude one!”

“Will she do a nude one? I’d love to see some more explicit content. #NakedPiggy”

“I’m sure this greedy fatty would do anything if you paid her enough. It’s pathetic. Want to watch her eat, pig out, workout touch herself? She’ll get naked and do all sorts of things, but first you have to pay up and #FeedthePiggy.”

“What a desperate hog. #Oink #FatPig.”

And at home, Mara turned the video off and began working on her next commission script. Her formerly slim and sexy boss had been such a good little piggy and given her everything she asked for and then some, but just like Fat Kat, Mara was hungry for more.

(And if you're hungry for more, you can always commission a sequel. Want Fat Kat to stuff her face? Want her to fail at exercise? She can. Reminder, Even More BS level patrons get 400 additional words per commission.)

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“Be a Pig”

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Come on. Eat it. I want to watch you eat it. You want to eat it. So do it.

You love it don’t you? You’re so bad, such a naughty little fatty, a fat, greedy pig. Look at you. You should be ashamed of yourself, the way you love to stuff yourself like this. It’s weak. It’s pathetic. 

Take another bite. 

It’s good isn’t it? That’s why you can’t get enough. That and because you’re weak. You’re just a weak, helpless fatty now. It’s funny because you’re fat but mostly because you use to be so strong. 

Well, you used to act like you were so strong I suppose. But there was always a fatty isn’t you, right? Once a fatty always a fatty, so there must have always been this naughty, greedy little pig just waiting to come out and oink for us. So get ahead and do it. 

Oink. 

Come on. Oink while you eat like the pig you are. Oink loud and clear. Oink like you mean it!

OINK!

That’s right. That’s it, you fat pig, you fat nasty, pathetic pig. Keep oinking. Show me you know your place. Show me how much you love it. Don’t stop you ball of blubber, you fat slob, you weak, pathetic loser, you fat fucking pig. 

Such. A. Fat. Fucking. Pig. A. Big. Fat. Fucking. Pig. 

Look at all that fat. You can feel it. Feel it move with every single movement. Every thrust. Yeah. That’s right pig. Jiggle for me. Let that fat fucking fly, you big fat useless fat fucking fatty. You’re a fucking butterball, a fat piece of garbage and you love it. You love that don’t you? You love when I call you names, you fat sack of crap, you disgusting human garbage disposal, you fat cow, you whale, you- you-

Fuck! You’re so fucking fat. I can’t believe how fit you used to be compared to now. I can hear how heavy your breathing is. You should be worried. You should be ashamed. But I’m going to keep going, and you’re going to keep going. We’re having too much fun for this to stop. Aren’t we, piggy? Of course we are. You’re a big fat loser, but you’re my pig fat loser. I own you. I absolutely own you, your fat worthless blob, and that’s just what you like. That’s the way you want it. You chose this. Every step of the way you only ever did what you wanted. You could have stayed fit, but you chose the fat life. You chose to eat yourself into obesity, to become a big blubbery pig. It turns you on. You love eating, and you love this humiliation.

You want more? Say it. I know it’s a struggle. But I want to hear it from you. I know you’re winded because you’re such a fat weak pathetic mess. But try to squeeze a few words out, my helpless piggy. Try to tell me you want more.

That’s right. I know you do. You always want more. You can never get enough. You’re greedy, a fat greedy pig. And you always need more, you crave it, right?

What do you want? More names? You love humiliation don’t you, wide load. You love to feel like a weak dirty pig, because you are. You were so strong, and now you’re weak and pathetic. You’re a big lump of useless fat, Blubber Butt, Big Gut, Jumbo, Fatso, Blob. Mooooooo. You’re such a big fat fucking cow, a lazy fat cow. Is that what you want to be? I know it is. You want more humiliation? You want me to pinch this fat, shake this fat, slap this fat and call you names.

Or is it more food you want?

Eating arouses you so much, doesn’t it? Just the pure act of indulgence, it’s even hotter than the humiliation. So keep eating, piggy. Let’s get you another slice of pizza. Let’s get you some cake. I think I have a thing of cookies that I can cram into your face. I know how much you’d love that, to feel the crumbs fall across your fat saggy chest. It’s so big a beautiful and heavy. You’re so incredibly soft, every flabby stretch mark and cellulite covered inch of you.

You’re so fat. And so messy. Just look at the way the grease rolls down your chins as you eat. Chins. I count at least three I think. They’re nice. They compliment those jiggly jowls of yours. They really are plump and rosey. I guess they’re so flush because you get so worked up from even the slightest bit of exertion at this weight. You’re so fat. What a fat fucking face you have. It’s perfect for a fat dopey loser like you. You look like a big ft, weak idiot. You look so fucking dumb with your fat stupid face. Your cheeks are so chubby and red all the time from the exertion of just all the eating you do. How pathetic is that you big fat useless idiot? You should be ashamed of how dumb you look. Your face fat makes your eyes look beady as hell. You used to have such bright eyes, such hopefully eyes with some real intelligence behind them. Now you just look like a big dumb useless animal, a pig who can only think about eating.

No. You don’t even think about eating, do you? You just do it. You just stuff your face as a reflex. It’s all mechanical to you. You can’t help it. You see food; you eat it. Your big fat arms just grab what they can and stuff your chipmunk cheeks full of junk. Just keep shoveling, loser. That's right. That’s what you want, and that’s what I want to see. Stuff that big fat gut of yours.

You’ve still got plenty of room. It’s like a bottomless pit. That’s why you’re so greedy. That’s why you’re so fat. It’s awe inspiring and disgusting all at the same time, just how much you can put away. And that’s why the pounds have packed on so easily. They’re just going to keep coming for that same reason. You love that idea, don’t you? The thought of what’s coming. That’s part of why you keep eating, well that and because I tell you to. I won’t let you stop. You’re going to keep going and grow even bigger. You’re going to get fatter than you’ve ever imagined. You’re going to sit on your fat ass and stuff your blubbery belly every day getting fatter and fatter, and I don’t care how many times you hear me say it. You love it each time don’t you? You want to hear me keep saying it. Fatter and fatter. That’s what is happening. I’ll hit all those trigger words for you, fatty, piggy, porker, oinker, big fat blubber belly. You want to hear it again and again. You don’t want me to stop, so I’ll just keep going.

God, that gut sure is huge. It’s so disgusting and spongy. What a big fat useless sack of fat you’ve grown. It’s perfect for a pig like you. That big fat greedy gut is the perfect symbol of your gluttony. Just think, you used to have abs. You used to be so sexy, and now you’ve got a big blubbery double belly that ways you down. It’s so heavy as it’s pooled out on your fat lap that you can barely get yourself up. Your days are getting numbered. Soon you won’t be able to get yourself up off your fat ass.

That ass of yours is so fucking fat. It’s so soft. I love spanking you, my naughty piggy. You deserve to be spanked so bad. And I love the way the fat of your flabby ass undulates with each slap. It just keeps going. I spank it and your ass sways for moments after. It’s as hypnotic as it is pathetic. You’ve got no muscle left. It’s a shame. You’re just a fat useless pig. You’re going to break so many chairs with this big fat ass of yours. I’ve seen the dent you’ve left in the couch. It’s this big fat permanently dip because the couch couldn’t handle all this blubber. It’s a big permanent imprint of your big fat ass like it’s outside Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. It’s this humiliating memorial to just how fat your ass has gotten and how heavy you are. It’s shameful and exhilarating isn’t it? You’ve made a big dent into this bed too, and eventually you’re just going to fill it forever. Immobility can’t be stopped, and that’s just how you want it.

You’re going to keep eating. You don’t have a choice- not that you’d choose otherwise if you did. We both know you want nothing more than to be a big fat useless piggy, a lazy blob of fat, a big fat stupid pathetic pet to be spoiled rotten and taken care of. You love this piggy. You love this and I love this.

It’s never going to stop.

TEASERS: "Fat Trimmings" Vol. 40 and More

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 40 is almost here. And to get ready for it, I wanted to share a bunch of teasers.

There are three stories coming in "Fat Trimmings" Volume 40, and here they are:

“Big News”

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Kathy Kahn was an absolute shark. In front of the camera she presented to everyone as sharp in every way, both with an absolutely stunning figure that made people both incredibly jealous and filled them with incredible lust, and with an intelligent mind that made her adept at cracking big news stories and presenting them in a way others could understand. She was also filled with such raw charisma, something added by her incredible looks and talent, and her winning personality shown through in front of the camera. She came off as knowledgeable and shrewd but also kind and approachable. She was an absolute unicorn.

And behind the camera she was an absolute wicked witch. A bitch in high heels, Kathy wasn’t afraid to step on anyone who got in her way. In fact, she seemed to seek it out. It wasn’t enough for her to rack up personal and professional accomplishments, she had to make sure other people couldn’t come close to touching them. She castigated, she dominated, she enjoyed subjugating others and ruining promising careers as sacrifices to her own. Kathy made sure that anyone who could possibly become competition for her either worked underneath her or didn’t work at all.

Kathy had been that way since high school when she was the queen bee of her school, the head cheerleader, the homecoming and prom queen, and the student body president. In college she was the president of her sorority. She was top of her class and an intern that broke into the news industry very quickly thanks to her smarts, looks, and fierce cunning. Since then she was a house on fire, burning down everyone she saw as a threat.

Her ruthless desire to crush every perceived threat by way of ruining careers, and her own arrogance and vanity would come back to bite her in what would become her big fat ass.

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“A Fattening in Outer Space

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Lieutenant Avery was the last surviving member of her crew when their ship landed on a planet none of them were expecting to find. And when she found the aliens that came for her, she thought for sure that they were going to eat her.

But it was quite the opposite.

Her whole life, Avery had been an athletic person. Fitness was something she had dedicated her life to, both physical fitness and mental fitness. She was a naturally hard worker with a determined attitude. It made her a force both in the gym and outside of it. She had everything in her to be a natural leader. She was confident, perceptive, intelligent, strong and agile and all of these qualities  added up to make her an excellent astronaut.

She thought that, perhaps, it was these qualities that the aliens so admired about her. As they poked and prodded her her fit figure, she thought maybe they had a strange sense of shared beauty with humans. Avery had been told her whole life that she was beautiful. It was part of what made her so popular. Her beauty and athleticism made her a two sport athlete in track and swimming, and she even found time to cheer. It was this popularity that led to a lot of social successes. She had been student body president in high school and college and president of her sorority. She was working to assist her community while training to become an astronaut and was known for giving back and working to inspire women in science. She had aims for political office upon her return to earth, and even envisioned herself becoming president.

Would that ever come close to happening now?

The aliens' continued touch brought her train of thought back to her original thought. As they stripped her of her space suit (and she found to her surprise that this was a very oxygen rich planet) she wondered if this planet with its atmosphere very similar to earth could have similar beauty standards too.

And then the food started coming.

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

“Thick Burger Undercover”

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

Rowan fancied herself a reporter. She didn’t have much of a following yet, but she had done an internship or two. And sure, she had found herself drummed out of her last one, but that was more because of a bitch if a boss, Kathy Kahn, than anything else. Still, it was a bit of a black spot on her résumé, maybe even a career death sentence depending on who you asked, so Rowan knew she had to be careful. And, ironically, she also knew she had to be bold and go really big with whatever news piece she was going to do to get her career back on track. 

Thick Burger seemed like the perfect target. It was clearly leading to a rise in obesity rates. They must have been doing something to create such an addictive product. Some kind of formula, maybe some kind of elaborate subliminal messages in their marketing campaigns. Others had tried and failed to bust Thick Burger in the past, with disastrous, humiliating, and fattening results. But Rowan was different from those people. She was better than them. She had a plan. 

She was going to take down Thick Burger from the inside out. 

It was the perfect plan really, a classic investigative reporter move. She would get employed with the company, record what she could, and work her way through the ranks until she got ahold of the evidence she needed to break the case wide open and take Thick Burger down for good. 

Plus, she needed some gainful employment at the moment as she was struggling to make the rent on her apartment while blowing through her savings (and the small bit of earnings she made selling pictures of her feet). So she really needed to be thorough and make this investigation work. It was going to be her big break. 

Rowan just didn’t realize how big she was going to get. 

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

On top of these stories, 7 dollar Even More BS patrons will be getting two extra slice stories, one of which is called "Be a Pig". Here is a teaser for that story:

“Be a Pig”

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Come on. Eat it. I want to watch you eat it. You want to eat it. So do it.

You love it don’t you? You’re so bad, such a naughty little fatty, a fat, greedy pig. Look at you. You should be ashamed of yourself, the way you love to stuff yourself like this. It’s weak. It’s pathetic. 

Take another bite. 

It’s good isn’t it? That’s why you can’t get enough. That and because you’re weak. You’re just a weak, helpless fatty now. It’s funny because you’re fat but mostly because you use to be so strong. 

Well, you used to act like you were so strong I suppose. But there was always a fatty isn’t you, right? Once a fatty always a fatty, so there must have always been this naughty, greedy little pig just waiting to come out and oink for us. So get ahead and do it.

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

"Big News" and "Be a Pig" are both available on the Discord for Even More BS patrons right now, and more teasers will be dropping on the Discord for Talking BS level patrons and above as we get closer to the release of "Fat Trimmings" Volume 40 and "Extra Slices" #4. You can upgrade your membership HERE.

New Year New Updates: Including New Tiers! And New Teasers!

That's right, it's New Year New Tiers Season! I've rolled out one new tier already with plans for a second, and for free members I'm having a 20% off sale so this the best time to jump on board and join a paying tier and get access to a ton of content that is already available and will be coming.

But first of all, I want to thank all of you who have become patron members over the course of the last year. This patreon has already grown way more than I thought it could, and I'm looking forward to the new year, and I hope you'll take this journey with me.

Why should you continue with me here on patreon? Well, if you've made it this far I hope you've been enjoying my stories. I work very hard on them, and while I do have periods where life cause a bit of a bump in production, I'm pretty proud in the consistency that I've been able to achieve especially when it comes to content that is exclusive to the patreon to make it worth it for all of you loyal paying members.

It's important to me that the work is of high quality and worth your money since I know there are so many other things you could be spending it on.

If you're new, why join now?

Well, I don't have the stats in front of me, but I would wager I'm one of the more (if not most) prolific writers generating consistent weight gain stories out there today. And while other people might just offer you early access to their stories, I pride myself on creating a wealth of worthwhile patreon exclusive content with an exclusive library that keeps joining.

And if you're a free member and upgrade to a paid membership you can save 20% off and get access to my entire back catalog of exclusive content and all the early access stuff you've been missing. It's the best value!

So let's talk about these tiers.

5 dollars unlocks A Fat Lot of BS. This is the starter tier. It gets you early access to all of my stories as well as lots of patreon exclusive content. To my current patrons, don't worry: the majority of exclusive content will still be available to this tier. I don't want to make you feel like I'm trying to cheat you with new tiers, you will still be getting content in quality and amount that is well worth the value of what you're paying. For those looking to commission stories, this tier unlocks 250 bonus words on any commission.

6 dollars unlocks Talking BS which gets you access to more teasers than I post here and access to the Discord server to discuss my stories as well as the stories of others. Several people have recently shared their work there and it's been great reads. It's also where I prioritize story idea requests.

I have to be honest, I think Talking BS may be on its way thanks to the newest tier.

7 dollars unlocks Even More BS. Why have I launched this new tier? I'll be honest. It's what I think my content is worth, and if I'm able to have more patrons support at this level, the money will give me the freedom to devote even more time to creating even more content for all patrons. And the big draw for 7 dollar members is even more exclusive content. I'm promising at least one extra story every time I post a "Fat Trimmings" Volume. And on the Discord there will be extra teasers, and the opportunity to suggest stories that I write as "Extra Slices". It is my hope that this will become the most popular tier I have. I really do think it's worth the extra two dollars. Commissioners get 400 words added to their commission for free instead of 250.

And now that you've read this far, I think I owe you some teasers.

Here's what it's in the "Extra Slices" so far:

"There's Sex in This One" is in "Extra Slice" #1

-----

Lexi loves sex. Of course, sex is a lot different for her now that she’s a fatty. 

When she was slim, and what most people would consider sexy, sex was easy for her. Everybody wanted to be with Lexi, gender didn’t matter, if they saw Lexi they wanted to be with her. She had this irresistible quality about her. It wasn’t just that she had a hot body- which she did. Lexi’s body was one of those one in a million types where she was both muscular but trim. She was slender but curvy. Every bit of her body was exactly how society said it was supposed to be. Lexi was like a supermodel without the need for photoshop. She just walked around in life like she just came off the cover of a magazine.

No. Not walk. Lexi didn’t walk. Lexi strut. She strutted around like she owned any room she entered into. She had a strut like a model, a strut that said she was in control. 

And all of that confidence was something that really attracted people to Lexi. It had people tripping over themselves to get closer to her, to do her bidding. 

Of course, all of this stuff went directly to Lexi’s head. While she had a great body, she always had a great big ego. Lexi loved being in control and she loved putting others in the place she felt they belonged. She loved flaunting her body in front of every. She loved putting others down, starting rumors, criticizing others behind their back and to their faces. Lexi loved being the dominant one, especially when it came to the bedroom. 

Sex was a weapon to Lexi. It was another tool in her arsenal to bend others to her control. She loved teasing the possibility of it out there and then reject people. She loved sex, but she wasn’t afraid of withholding it. She would love to use it as a way to emasculate others, to prop up her own power. 

Then she got fat. 

(You can read the rest of the story right HERE.)

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“Sweet Dreams”

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Vida dreamed of being fat.

More specifically she dreamed of getting fat.

Most specifically, she dreamed of eating enough dessert to make herself extremely fat.

Vida dreamed of ice cream and cake and cookies. The ice cream always came in a multitude of flavors: vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, rock road, green tea, red bean, chunky monkey, moose tracks, and peanut butter cookie dough. When it came to cakes there was: chocolate, vanilla, red velvet, black forest, cakes with buttercream, cakes with chantilly, beautiful cakes covered in fondant and in her dream even that was delicious. There were too many kinds of cookies to count, and on multiple occasions pies found their way into the equation, and so did other kinds of pastry like cannoli and eclairs and cream puffs. All these things danced in her dreams and in her dreams she enjoyed floating around and eating them all.

It may surprise people to hear all of this because Vida was always known for being petite. People frequently fell over themselves to tell Vida how gorgeous she was. Vida was an incredibly popular woman as a result, but she never felt happy with what society told her was a hot body.

She wanted a fat one.

So when the days of compliments grew long, and Vida grew weary of the effort it took to maintain her stereotypically hot body, she eagerly retreated to her dessert filled dreams.

...

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“Beware the Fattening Fortunes of Madame Zara”

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The sign above the tent reads “Madame Zara: Seer of Truths and Teller of the Future”, and you may think it’s a good time, but you would best to beware, especially if you happen to bring with you any kind of vanity. Madame Zara loves vanity. She feeds off of it.

And she punishes the vain.

Madame Zara spends most of her time being a rather innocuous fortune teller. She often puts on a rather pleasant show and sometimes even tells the actual future when she has a very special connection with someone. Seeing the future is foggy business and the clearest fortunes are often rather small in nature otherwise people tend to get things told to them in a rather vague way. But those predictions always come true, and so do the punishing predictions Madame Zara gives the vain.

But that’s because she makes them come true.

When Madame Zara finds a vain person worth punishing, her fortunes aren’t so much fortunes as curses. She twists their fate into whatever humiliating punishment she desires, and Mada Zara’s favorite punishments always involve weight gain.

You see, Madame Zara loves the idea of twisting vain people into exactly what they’ve always made fun of. And since most vain people love to make fun of fat people, then fat is what they shall become. She loves to bury vain people under blubber and drown them in their own self-imposed prejudice. The humiliating reactions that they receive from people all around them, people who suddenly seem a lot more vocal and pointed, far bolder than they would otherwise be, are that way because of the seeds that their vanity has planted. The magic of their curse that they now bear twists those around them to want to hasten and revel in their downfall, to add to their humiliation and degradation as Madame Zara so desires it.

Take two separate examples: Trevor and Celeste.

Trevor was a high powered business executive who loved to demean others, especially women, and he was especially crude to his fat secretary, Mindy. Trevor was a stud and a ladies man who dominated in the boardroom and in the bedroom, and he was never afraid to brag about both. So when Madame Zara got to him, she turned his life upside down.

...

Celeste used to be a model. Well, she still is a model, technically. But thanks to Madame Zara’s fortune she’s now a big fat fetish model.

(You can read "Sweet Dreams" and "Beware the Fattening Fortunes of Madame Zara" right HERE.)

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"A Very Fattening Fortune"

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Madame Zara raised her eyebrow as the beautiful blonde walked into her tent. She had seen so many just like this and could smell the vanity oozing out of her pores. It took just a small glance into her crystal to see that much. She could see that the woman standing in front of her was a woman of privilege with a history of fatphobia and fat shaming. Madame could see the past laid out before her: cheerleader, prom queen, sorority president, poised to climb her way up the corporate ladder.

Of course, she could also see the threads of a future that were ready to be twisted to her whims.

The Seer of Truths looked up at the slim and sexy vixen standing in front of her. She was so nicely dressed in a blouse and tapered jacket that highlighted her trim waist, and her pencil skirt showed off her long lean legs, toned and tan limbs. The skirt also highlighted her perfectly perky butt, something that was so well toned it looked like one could bounce a quarter off of it. It was a butt she had clearly worked hard on and just like the rest of her, it was designed to turn heads.

“You certainly are beautiful, darling.”

“I know. I’m special.”

Madame Zara raised an eyebrow and once again looked the pretentious vixen up and down. She could see the way the woman held her nose up at her. She was clearly the kind of woman of privilege who enjoyed being prim and proper and professional while also being exceptionally hot. Madame Zara took another look into her crystal and was already twisting the threads of fate in her head.

“What brings you here, Gia?”

“I don’t honestly know,” responded Gia, so self absorbed as to be oblivious to the fact that Madame Zara shouldn’t have known her name.

“This fair is full of fat slobs, disgusting poor people and just general losers. Some friends of mine, whose friendship I am thoroughly reconsidering, dragged me here. I figured I’d give them one last fun fling. After this, as my star shines, I’ll be leaving them behind. I don’t wallow with pigs.”

Madame Zara smiled as Gia solidified her punishing fate. She was already twisting the threads of Gia’s gluttonous future as she reached for her deck of tarot cards.

“Let’s see what your future has in store.”

(You can read this story HERE.)

That's it for the teasers although 5 dollar Fat Lot of BS Members will be happy to know that I'm working on "Fat Trimmings" Volume 40 for release on Tuesday or Wednesday (with an Extra Slice coming after that). 6 dollars Talking BS members can still submit ideas for me to write.

And there's one more tier coming.

Soon I will be starting my 10 dollar All the BS Tier. This will be the tier for people who really want to get involved, who really want to know how the sausage is made and have a say in not just stories but the course of the patreon. It will come with a 600 word bonus to commissions as well as:

PDF copies of my back catalogue

Exclusive extended editions of my major works ("Scales of Time", "Nightmare Pigs", etc.)

PDF copies of all the stories that I release as I release them.

The ability to really get inside my head about how I write, why I write what I write, and how I make decisions about this patreon.

Have a voice in the direction that this patreon takes as BS Board Member.

I will also be releasing up to two ongoing series with voted on paths by 10 dollar members. This will include a Game Show/Reality Show story and "She Makes Fun of Fat Girls" focusing on one vain woman. When I launch the tier it will launch with one of these stories and if I get enough 10 dollar members, I'll start the second one.

The All the BS Tier is still under construction, and I welcome any additional feedback to add more value to this tier.

Thank you all so much, and if you want to upgrade your membership you can do so HERE.

I really appreciate all of your continued support, and remember if you're a free member ready to upgrade for the first time, you can get 20% off! If the links aren't automatically showing the discount use this code: 654DF Join today!

And if you're a continuing member, wow, thanks for reading this long. Also, I'm sorry that patreon does not allow me to offer discounts on tier upgrades or I would have done that. I hope you'll still consider upgrading and at least stay on. Thanks again!

"A Fattening Fortune": Extra Slice #3

This extra slice comes in extra long at over 2,100 words. A vain woman visits Madame Zara and gets hit with a rather fattening fortune. It's quite the punishment.

I enjoyed writing this piece and the last story featuring Madame Zara. I think this is likely to become a semi-regular series where at some point I collect them and release that as one story elsewhere while exploring a much deeper version for you people here.

For now...

Enjoy!

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Madame Zara raised her eyebrow as the beautiful blonde walked into her tent. She had seen so many just like this and could smell the vanity oozing out of her pores. It took just a small glance into her crystal to see that much. She could see that the woman standing in front of her was a woman of privilege with a history of fatphobia and fat shaming. Madame could see the past laid out before her: cheerleader, prom queen, sorority president, poised to climb her way up the corporate ladder.

Of course, she could also see the threads of a future that were ready to be twisted to her whims.

The Seer of Truths looked up at the slim and sexy vixen standing in front of her. She was so nicely dressed in a blouse and tapered jacket that highlighted her trim waist, and her pencil skirt showed off her long lean legs, toned and tan limbs. The skirt also highlighted her perfectly perky butt, something that was so well toned it looked like one could bounce a quarter off of it. It was a butt she had clearly worked hard on and just like the rest of her, it was designed to turn heads.

“You certainly are beautiful, darling.”

“I know. I’m special.”

Madame Zara raised an eyebrow and once again looked the pretentious vixen up and down. She could see the way the woman held her nose up at her. She was clearly the kind of woman of privilege who enjoyed being prim and proper and professional while also being exceptionally hot. Madame Zara took another look into her crystal and was already twisting the threads of fate in her head.

“What brings you here, Gia?”

“I don’t honestly know,” responded Gia, so self absorbed as to be oblivious to the fact that Madame Zara shouldn’t have known her name.

“This fair is full of fat slobs, disgusting poor people and just general losers. Some friends of mine, whose friendship I am thoroughly reconsidering, dragged me here. I figured I’d give them one last fun fling. After this, as my star shines, I’ll be leaving them behind. I don’t wallow with pigs.”

Madame Zara smiled as Gia solidified her punishing fate. She was already twisting the threads of Gia’s gluttonous future as she reached for her deck of tarot cards.

“Let’s see what your future has in store.”

She flipped the cards over one after another. It was a purely ceremonial act. The real magic came from what she channeled through her crystal, but it was an effect that the clients were counting on. So after Madame Zara collected her money, she flipped her cards and gleefully gave her punishing fortune thus sealing the glamorous Gia’s fate.

“Your vanity will come crumbling down. It will melt away just like your precious abdominal muscles which will become buried by blubber as you grow a blubbery belly that surges forward and announces itself to all around you. The stress of your professional responsibilities will crush you, and the prim and proper Gia will be lost forever as you unleash the inner piggy within. You will become fat, out of shape and hopeless, shamed out of the gym, and forced out of your job once you become far too piggish to be professional and your sloppy work matches your sloppy appearance. You who were once so high and mighty will find yourself locked into a life of service and a bloated, fat body that is your personal nightmare.”

“You’re a disgusting fraud, and you should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Oh, I think you’ll see you’ll be the one who ends up disgusted and ashamed of herself.”

Gia stormed out and went home to have a salad and then get dressed for the gym. She hit the treadmill harder than she ever had that day as if it were to spite the old woman and her stupid fortune.

It was a mistake that would cost her.

Sure enough, not having enough food and overdoing it on the treadmill were a bad combination. Gia wiped out pretty badly, spraining her ankle and hitting her head hard enough to give her a concussion. That meant sitting around doing a week of absolutely nothing.

Gia could have survived that. Sure, she wasn’t even allowed to look at electronics for the whole week or read too much at a time, and the ankle injury made moving around difficult and exercise seemingly impossible, and, yes, this boredom led to a lot of excess snacking to fill the void which meant that, by the end of the week, Gia’s fancy work slacks were a bit more snug, and her blouses strained a little bit against the start of a belly that she was developing. But Gia could have worked that all off.

What really killed Gia was all the work she missed. There were emails to respond to, reports to file, clients to work with, some clients that were so time sensitive that she lost their accounts to other colleagues. Gia had never been behind in something like this her entire life. She had always been the golden girl, so struggling for the first time ever caused and extreme amount of stress.

And an extreme amount of stress led to an extreme amount of snacking.

Trips to the vending machine were constant. Late night takeout orders devoured at the office were nightly. And these meals were often followed by nights of binge eating ice cream late night at home to take the edge off. Takeout extended to lunch as well. Gia used to be a meal prepper, and she used to love salad for lunch, but the stress from work left her with a lack of time for meal prep and a heavier reliance on ordering food, and the stress also robbed her of her taste for salad apparently. So it was greasy burgers and sandwiches for lunch. Gia justified that by noting that fresh salads were expensive, and since she was already relying on ordering food so much as it was, her budget had to be stretched. It didn’t matter that this diet also led to a stretching of her pants seams. Gia kept gorging on greasy garbage throughout the work day.

Gia had been an occasional partier, but along with her usual weekend excursions with friends, her co-workers began bringing her to bars after work too, and her Fridays always ended up the same: Work late, greasy takeout at the office, then to a bar with her work friends to drown her stress and sorrows. That would always end with pizza, and then it would be home to binge on some ice cream and drink some water before finishing things off with a sugary sports drink and some leftover pizza to try and beat the hangover.

As one would expect, the weight piled on.

Gia grew a gut, a big spongy ball of fat, a saggy paunch that strained every outfit that she wore, and even when she tucked it into her skirts, the top of it still rolled over her waistband. It was even worse whenever she tried to wear pants. Then her whole gut would hang over. As her weight kept increasing, her pot belly kept getting harder and harder to hide. People would have thought she was pregnant if it wasn’t clear by Gia’s hard partying ways that this was just an ever growing beer gut. It became the first thing anyone ever saw of Gia, and it frequently introduced itself with groans of either hunger or gas. Gia couldn’t help herself. As she grew, so did her appetite, and she found a ceaseless urge to stuff her greedy gut full of greasy junk food. It was an urge she always gave into. She knew she should diet. She could feel the sack of fat growing heavier in her hands each day, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. So she just kept eating, and she just kept getting fatter.

Of course, Gia’s gut wasn’t the only thing that grew. Her ass really packed on the pounds as well. No more bouncing a quarter off of it, Gia grew an ass that bounced with a mind of its own. Her gorgeous butt cheeks ballooned into incredibly chunky ones. They regularly lifted up her skirts to tantalizing but definitely unprofessional heights, and her bloated butt cheeks also frequently started to pop open the backs of the pants that she insisted on trying to cram them into. Her gorgeous ass was now engorged with fat and covered in cottage cheese like cellulite.

Her thighs grew thick as well, losing their tone and becoming juicy thunder thighs that split the fancy leggings that the growing Gia used to wear with her skirts. And legging weren’t the only thing her fat thighs destroyed. When she tried to keep wearing her designer pants, the seams would find themselves splitting along her saddlebags. Her blubbery thunder thighs slapped and rubbed together as she walked, and they grew so incredibly fat that she eventually was forced into a slow awkward waddle, no more confident model strut for the former queen turned fatty.

Even Gia’s arms grew fat and flabby. She developed bulbous bingo wings, pillows of fat they made her arms stick out even as they rested on her fat sides. Her marshmallow arms quivered with even the slightest bit of movement. They made short sleeve tops unflattering but long sleeve tops too warm and uncomfortable. 

Gia’s breasts grew as well but not nearly as much as the rest of her fattened body. While her breasts were now soft saggy sponges of plush fat, the bigger story was the changes to her previously model quality face. 

Thanks in no small part to all the alcohol consumption, Gia’s gorgeous face grew grotesquely bloated. Her cheeks grew jiggly jowls and multiple wobbling chins that were constantly dotted with grease and acne. Gia ate like a pig and her chubby cheeks were often stained with sauce or syrup and or crumbs. Her greasy forehead was constantly sticky with sweat from the slightest exertions, and her greasy hair often stuck to it in limp strands. 

Eating and work also left no time for working out which only sped up the demise of Gia’s once gorgeous figure. Once, after things had already spiraled out of control, Gia made a last ditch effort to get to the gym and work some of this unsightly blubber off only to find that most of the people she knew at the gym didn’t recognize her at first, and then once they did realize who she was, they absolutely tore into her for becoming such a pig. Sweaty and exhausted after just a brief attempt at working out and humiliated by her former friends and people she used to look down upon, Gia waddles out of there as fast as her fat legs could carry her which was not very fast at all. 

The day Gia truly realized what a pig she was came when she was fired. She was far more of a pig than a professional, with messy food and sweat stained clothes, rumpled and smelling of lack of laundry time. Her clothes were also constantly strained by her fat which poked out at every opportunity. Gia was caught during multiple meetings messily eating and belching like a pig. Outside of her piggish appearance and actions, her work also grew sloppy. She missed deadlines and was late to meetings that she would show up to with snacks in hand to stuff her fat greedy face with. 

Out of a job, Gia was left to waddle about life aimlessly with her food budget dwindling her savings until she was forced to downsize to a much smaller apartment in a much worse part of town. It was already messy when she moved in, a perfect place for a piggy like her. But Gia was out of a job and desperate. Her piggishness meant she never made it past a first interview no matter how good her résumé was. Eventually she was able to get a job, and it was the ultimate humiliation. 

One of Gia’s former rivals offered her a job as a maid and general servant. It was for amusement more than anything. Gia’s rival got great joy out of watching her former rival brought so disgustingly low and showing her off in front of their fancy friends. Gia was made to to clean and especially serve at parties while clad in a multitude of humiliating costumes, all tight and revealing, and many of them animal themed. 

This was Gia’s life now, a fat pig living in service to others, degraded and humiliated. It was all as Madame Zara predicted, but everything fell in place so clearly and logically that she never even paid the old woman a second thought-

Except in a few of her nightmares. 

2 for 1: "Extra Slices #2"

Two stories. Over two thousand words. Trying to make it worth the two extra bucks.

Enjoy!

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“Sweet Dreams”

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Vida dreamed of being fat.

More specifically she dreamed of getting fat.

Most specifically, she dreamed of eating enough dessert to make herself extremely fat.

Vida dreamed of ice cream and cake and cookies. The ice cream always came in a multitude of flavors: vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, rock road, green tea, red bean, chunky monkey, moose tracks, and peanut butter cookie dough. When it came to cakes there was: chocolate, vanilla, red velvet, black forest, cakes with buttercream, cakes with chantilly cream frosting, beautiful cakes covered in fondant, and in her dreams even those were delicious. There were too many kinds of cookies to count, and on multiple occasions pies found their way into the equation, and so did other kinds of pastry like cannoli and eclairs and cream puffs. All these things danced in her dreams and in her dreams she enjoyed floating around and eating them all.

It may surprise people to hear all of this because Vida was always known for being petite. People frequently fell over themselves to tell Vida how gorgeous she was. Vida was an incredibly popular woman as a result, but she never felt happy with what society told her was a hot body.

She wanted a fat one.

So when the days of compliments grew long, and Vida grew weary of the effort it took to maintain her stereotypically hot body, she eagerly retreated to her dessert filled dreams.

Slim and sexy Vida always started off lighter than air in her dreams, gently floating like an astronaut in zero gravity. She swam in the air and caught desserts one at a time in her mouth. When that stopped being enough, she would grab them and shove them in her face with her hands. She would gather up and armful and then start eating, and eventually that didn’t fill her fast enough so she would just start to cram dessert into her mouth one handful after the next, hand over hand nonstop.

As she ate, her slim body stopped being so slim. Her trim waist turned to mush as it bowed outward into a bulging muffintop paired with matching meaty love handles. Her butt ballooned like a bubble, both cheeks inflated, rising like bread dough and grew softer with each sweet dessert that she consumed. She continued to eat unabated by the tightness of her clothes, and when those clothes inevitably burst she continued to float around in the dreamscape munching on munchies. 

Vida’s hands loved the feel of cake between her chubby fingers. She loved to feel the delightful sponginess of the cake (something that matched the sponginess of her growing gut). Then she shoved the cake one fistful after another into her fat face and licked her chubby hands clean. After that, she cruised toward more cookies and the crumbs of which floated toward her cleavage as she mowed down cookie after cookie like an absolute eating machine.

Her body kept expanding like she was an inflating parade balloon. Her weight kept increasing to such a point that even in the dream she couldn’t keep floating. Her blubbery body gently floated down until it bounced off the ground like her was a big bouncing ball of fat, and then she settled into an oversized throne in front of a table covered in dessert.

The ice cream poured down her multiple chins and onto her massive quivering breasts as she ate spoonful after spoonful. She couldn’t help but snort like a pig as she scarfed down her delicious dessert meal. She kept eating, and her fat body kept expanding. With each new bite she gained a new fold or roll as her body billowed with flab. Even the throne began to grow tight as her body widened further. She felt her thighs press together and felt the warmth spreading between them in juxtaposition to the cold of the ice cream that she just kept consuming.

Vida is a fat girl now. She’s not the slim and sexy woman that people used to be jealous of. Now she’s the big, fat, sexy woman that she’s always wanted to be. The dreams were eventually too much for her to not follow up with. She started indulging far more and never looked back and never regretted it.

Now Vida has a big blubbery belly that she loves to squeeze and shake with her chubby hands. She has a big fat ass that she loves to use to turn heads and a thick juicy thunder thighs that she loves to feel rub together. She’s got great big breasts and a big fat beautiful face. Every part of her previously petite body is fat and flabby just the way she loves it. And Vida doesn’t show any signs of slowing down either. Getting fatter is something she’s very passionate about, and she’s in for a big future.

Vida loves her food. In real life she obviously eats far more than just dessert. She loves to cram her fat face with junk food of all kinds. She loves hamburgers and hotdogs, mac and cheese and dinner rolls. She regularly feasts on Indian food and Italian, fine French cuisine and greasy fast food. She scarfs down sushi and chows down on Chinese. Vida’s life is an endless array of gluttony. She can’t get enough and that’s just the way she wants it.

She loves the feeling of her big greedy gut somehow being full after she’s sat down and stuffed herself silly. She loves rub her bloated belly over and over again and takes it as another opportunity to get herself prepared to eat even more. Every time she eats her stomach is stretched even more which means she’s able to eat even more the next time. The benchmark keeps moving and the number on the scale keeps growing. Her budget for both food and new and larger clothes keeps growing, but Vida doesn’t care. Vida just wants to eat. She just wants to get fatter.

So Vida doesn’t slow down. She doesn’t plan on slowing down. She flaunts her fat in front of everyone. She seeks out opportunities to showcase her gluttony. She is more than just glad to be fat.

Her big beautiful blubbery body is proof that dreams really do come true.

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“Beware the Fattening Fortunes of Madame Zara”

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(WARNING: This next story features some decently explicit a degrading sex things that may not be of interest to you.)

The sign above the tent reads “Madame Zara: Seer of Truths and Teller of the Future”, and you may think it’s a good time, but you would best to beware, especially if you happen to bring with you any kind of vanity. Madame Zara loves vanity. She feeds off of it.

And she punishes the vain.

Madame Zara spends most of her time being a rather innocuous fortune teller. She often puts on a rather pleasant show and sometimes even tells the actual future when she has a very special connection with someone. Seeing the future is foggy business and the clearest fortunes are often rather small in nature otherwise people tend to get things told to them in a rather vague way. But those predictions always come true, and so do the punishing predictions Madame Zara gives the vain.

But that’s because she makes them come true.

When Madame Zara finds a vain person worth punishing, her fortunes aren’t so much fortunes as curses. She twists their fate into whatever humiliating punishment she desires, and Mada Zara’s favorite punishments always involve weight gain.

You see, Madame Zara loves the idea of twisting vain people into exactly what they’ve always made fun of. And since most vain people love to make fun of fat people, then fat is what they shall become. She loves to bury vain people under blubber and drown them in their own self-imposed prejudice. The humiliating reactions that they receive from people all around them, people who suddenly seem a lot more vocal and pointed, far bolder than they would otherwise be, are that way because of the seeds that their vanity has planted. The magic of their curse that they now bear twists those around them to want to hasten and revel in their downfall, to add to their humiliation and degradation as Madame Zara so desires it.

Take two separate examples: Trevor and Celeste.

Trevor was a high powered business executive who loved to demean others, especially women, and he was especially crude to his fat secretary, Mindy. Trevor was a stud and a ladies man who dominated in the boardroom and in the bedroom, and he was never afraid to brag about both. So when Madame Zara got to him, she turned his life upside down.

Trevor’s body started to lose its tone shortly after his run in with Madame Zara. His well tailored suits soon grew tight around his bulging middle. Buttons strained around his belly and his chest. His proud pectoral muscles softened into soft, spongy man boobs, jiggling sacks of fat that surged outward and sagged onto his bloated gut. His confidence was drained from him as his body grew fatter. 

His pants ripped thanks to the growing size of his fat ass. His thighs popped seams as well as they grew to be thick thunder thighs that had him waddling about the office. Even then he could only waddle short distances at a time without having to stop to catch his breath. The chauvinistic pig was now a fat and winded one. He was the laugh stock of the office while he was still there. 

Then came the financial failure. 

After an array of scandals was unearthed, Trevor found himself out of a job, out of his fancy apartment and rapidly running out of money. Luckily, he was able to find some new gainful employment.

Now Trevor is a big fat pig boy at a local fetish club. He gets paid by customers, men and women, who want to stuff him in any number of ways. He wears nothing but leather chaps that are tight against his abundantly flabby flesh. Trevor is a naughty pig boy who often needs to be whipped and spanked to be kept in line.

It turns out one of the club’s best clients is Mindy. Mindy loves stuffing her former boss silly and then taking a strap-on to him while he oinks. She loves making her formerly fit and dominant boss squeal like the big fat piggy that he is now. He’s paid to beg her for more, and he does so because he’s so greedy and hungry for food, the stuff he is fed at the club and the food that he buys to stuff himself. He cannot get enough, so he does whatever he is told like a good pet piggy.

Celeste used to be a model. Well, she still is a model, technically. But thanks to Madame Zara’s fortune she’s now a big fat fetish model. No more confident strutting about. No more glamorous posing. Now she’s a big fat piggy whose video speciality is getting dominated after she stuffs herself with food. She makes lots of videos eating and playing with her fat while apologizing to the people she used to make fun of and talking about how much better they are than her now.

And there’s a lot of fat to play with.

Celeste used to have abs, and now she has a gelatinous double belly. It’s a big apron of fat, so when she’s getting plowed by fat guys she used to make fun of as part of her most popular video series, they have to really work to get that gut out of the way. And once they do it undulates back and forth. It’s almost hypnotic the way the former prom queen’s belly shakes like jello as she’s stuffed like a pig.

Her thighs are absolute tree trunks, covered in cellulite just like her big fat ass which is comprised of two titanic ass cheeks. She is often seen with her naked blubber butt facing the camera. Her cheeks clap together as she bounces while she enthusiastically eats face first from her trough. And when her bare blubbery bottom is spanked, she squeals like the pig that she is.

Celeste’s massive tits hang like cows udders and her rock hard nipples gently graze against the floor as she eats from her trough. Her massive belly however, is pressed against the floor. It drags in the dirt as she crawls about, pulled by a leash in the hands of fat guys she used to make fun of. She oinks for them before going down on them and being used in whatever way they and her audience sees fit.

It’s a living and she’s strangely content with it, but she still has days where she wonders how things could have been different if she didn’t go into Madame Zara’s tent, if she hadn’t been so vain at least.

So don’t be like Celeste and Trevor. Don’t be vain. And if you are, don’t let Madame Zara find you because you’ll end up a fat piggy too.

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 39

Another "Fat Trimmings" Volume this week? Yup. I also expect to have Volume 40 up on Tuesday and expect an extra slice for new 7 dollar tier members tomorrow along with a big news update.

Enjoy!

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“My Fat Sister”

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I always wanted a fat sister. To be clear, that’s specifically a FAT one. 

You see, I have had a sister my entire life. Theoretically we’re supposed to be twins, but for most of our lives we’ve always had one key defining difference.

I was the fat sister.

I have always been hefty to say the least with a big blubbery belly and thunder thighs that slapped together when I walked. I had a big fat ass too, but not the kind that drew people’s attention in a positive way. I mean, I guess sure some people were into it. But in my mind it was far too droopy, soft and saggy and covered in cellulite, to be considered in any way attractive. It was the kind of blubber butt that made weighing any kind of decent jeans impossible. If it wasn’t dresses or sweatpants, or some stretchy leggings, I was stuck in these horrible mom jeans that did nothing for my but, or my big belly and meaty love handles.

My sister used to love when I slipped into my “mom jeans”.

I am NOT a mom by the way, just to clarify that. I was just a fat girl, the fat twin.

And my sister, she was a bitch.

It wasn’t just enough for her to constantly put me down, to criticize me under the guise of “friendly advice”. She loved to flaunt her hot body in front of mine. She loved to flash her abs and shake her perfect ass and just throw it in my face how much better she was than me.

Well I took care of that.

How did I do it?

I made a Christmas wish.

And I found a really old spellbook.

And I swapped out her protein shakes for pure weight gain powder.

Also, I fed her while she was sleeping.

And I just generally kept putting food in front of her and encouraging her to eat more.

One or more of those things worked because she definitely got fat.

Let me tell you, I don’t know if I’ll ever enjoy anything more than the first time I heard the sound of her thighs rubbing together while she wore a stretched out pair of jeans. And the sight of the muffin top she was sporting, the way her fat belly and love handles just oozed over the waistband of the jeans she had forced herself into, the way the button was practically screaming, it was a really special thing.

Lori grew a big fat blubber butt too. She was really struggling to cram it into the clothes that she loved to wear so much. I don’t blame her. Those designer outfits of hers were really expensive. I almost felt bad when she started bursting out of them, but every new rip, every freshly popped button or blown out seam warmed my heart.

I loved watching Lori spiral. She lost further control of her appetite the more she gained weight. It was like every pound she put on made her crave food that much more. Her precious abs gave way to a nice juicy pot belly. I loved watching it peak out from under her shirts. She was such a  stubborn little piggy, so vain and trying to cling to her denial, but all that did was make things more humiliating because she would regularly wear clothes that did not fit her anymore. She was a chubby girl, but the way her fat spilled out of her clothes made her seem even fatter than she was.

Of course, she kept getting fatter anyway, and eventually she had no choice but to opt for a brand new fat girl wardrobe because all of her old designer clothes were either busted or just something she was unable to slip even past her flabby thunder thighs and wide hips. Her life became that of a messy piggy as she committed to wearing messy sweats and lounging about living the life of a fattening couch potato. Any sense that she was once active was drowned out by the waves of flab that had landed on her once toned body.

Now she barely goes out. The former queen bee is a big fat loser who stays home wearing the same clothes for days at a time as she messily stuffs her face. Sometimes it’s fun to bring friends over just to laugh at her. Her downfall is a consistently popular topic of conversation amongst our family and her former friends. They just love talking about how the arrogant brat has gotten fat. They think she deserves this. It’s karma for years of being so prissy and judgmental. I have to say, it’s really nice to hear that it turns out I wasn’t the only family member to feel the harshness of Lori’s attitude over the years, and I’m not the only one reveling in her blowing up into a buttery blubber butt, a bloated butterball. I heard my aunt call her a piggy the other day and almost fainted.

It’s funny watching Lori at family gatherings as relatives circle around her like sharks, pinching her exposed love handles, poking her soft, spongy belly, criticizing her every move.

“Those pants look a little tight, Lori.”

“Maybe you ought to go on a diet, dear. Watch what you eat a little.”

“You’re getting quite chunky, downright fat even.”

“Do you really need a third helping, Lori?”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather slip dessert? I think you should, piglet.”

Lori is a real lard ass, and I love it. I love seeing the former confident queen turned into Queen of the couch, a fat loser who stuffs her face for comfort despite the fact that she knows she’s going to get even fatter. She’s too much of a greedy piggy to stop herself. It’s pathetic, and I’m absolutely obsessed with her downfall. 

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m skinny now. I’m still a fatty. Never did have the time or desire to work on improving myself, but hey, technically I’m the thin twin now, and the fact that my skinny bitch sister, Lori is now the fattest cow I know is more than good enough for me.

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“The Fattening Stone”

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Look. The stone was supposed to make Justine fat. Just Justine.

Justine was my roommate, my no good, and by no good I mean goody two-shoes roommate. Justine was always so popular with everyone, so outgoing, so prim and proper and perfect in every way. And she was gorgeous too, a real knockout, ya know? People fell all over themselves to do things for her. It was sickening.

Why wouldn’t they do those things for me, huh? I was smoking hot too. In high school I was the queen bee. I ruled with an iron fist. Then suddenly I get to college and everyone’s all social justice this and woke bullshit agenda that. Suddenly it’s like oh being a mean girl isn’t cool anymore. We’re all supposed to be friendly and body positive. Bullshit. Hot means hot, and being hot means people are supposed to treat you a certain way.

So like, why should I have to struggle to get people’s attention while St. Justine is gifted this perfectly gorgeous body with tight abs and long lean legs and sweet subtle breasts and everything else a woman could want along with friends just because she happens to also be nice. 

Fuck that. I earned my body. I earned the right to treat others like they were beneath me because they were. The one absolute psycho feminist thing I agree with is that I’m not aggressive, I’m a boss bitch and people should keep out of my way especially Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes Justine.

So I found the rock, okay? And it, like, spoke to me, I think. It didn’t have a mouth or anything, but I got like visions and shit. And those visions told me that all I had to do was think about Justine getting fat and she would get fat. I figured that was perfect because it wouldn’t matter how nice Justine was, nobody was going to want to be seen hanging out with a bloated obese cow.

I found Justine in our room, clenched the stone in my fist and thought about Justine getting fat.

And it worked.

Right before my eyes Justine started to blow up like a big fat balloon. Seriously, she became a real butterball in a matter of moments. First it looked like she was going to float off of her bed, but I realized that that was her previously perky butt fattening up, turning into two big cellulite covered cushions and rising like lumpy bread door to push her off her mattress. I could hear the seams of her jeans straining as her ass grew bigger. It was a big spongy dumper as pound after pound piled onto it. Her ass grew out and kept pushing her up, but the fat also moved sideways, especially after the seams of her jeans started to pop. Fat oozed out of her pants.

Justine’s thighs thickened as well. They looked like fat sausages squeezed into her pants until the casings split entirely down her legs and the fabric started to flap uselessly. Her previously toned thighs kept getting thicker, turning into tree trunk like thunder thighs, and her entire lower half was ravaged by cellulite.

But the weight gain wasn’t just limited to her lower half.

Justine’s belly began to blow up as well. Her abs were gone in the blink of an eye, immediately replaced by the soft start of a belly, but even that didn’t last long. It kept growing, creeping outward and spilling onto her fat lap as her belly became a turgid sack of fat. It jiggled as it grew and its size expanded in all directions. Justine’s trim waist developed meaty love handles that met up with her gut which swelled into a generous spare tire. Then her gelatinous gut became a soft, warm, jiggly shelf for her growing breasts.

Those growing breasts strained her top just as her overall body weight strained the bed she was sitting on. Her breasts kept growing in size, but mostly they became softer and saggier and started to weigh heavily on the top part of Justine’s new blubbery double belly. Her breasts undulated as they grew. Her soft quivering flesh began to overflow her bra cups.

Justine’s perfect arms began to swell as well. I had never noticed how perfect Justine’s arms were until they were one of the last parts of her body to fatten up. In that moment I could see how lithe but toned they were. And then in an instant that tone was gone. Her arms blew up with fat and became like squishy marshmallows of sweet flab. She grew billowy bingo wings that jiggled with every panicked movement.

Her face got fat too. Her face getting fat might have been my favorite part because her face had always been so pretty, and it became bloated with fat, round and swollen with the stuff. Her cheeks became jiggly jowls and her chin gave out sagging into a deep doughy second one. Her double chin wobbled hysterically as she looked around the room in a panic.

I couldn’t stop laughing.

And then it happened.

I felt the tightness in my pants.

My own abs were suddenly gone and there was fat pushing against the button of my jeans. And that button didn’t last long. My new belly fat popped it right off, and my new gut filled the gap that opened up while also surging over the waistband of my jeans. I grew a thick muffin top very quickly with my pot belly and my love handles and even a juicy roll of back fat that I could feel growing. I barely had time to squeeze my blubbery belly and attempt to push the fat back into my body when I felt my thighs thickening next.

Those thighs of mine, once so toned, perfect for helping me leap through the air as a cheerleader, quickly developed layer upon layer of flab. I could feel the squishy fat pressing against the fabric of my jeans until, just like Justine, my jeans gave out. The seams popped and my thick thigh fat began to ooze out. In moments I had chunky thunder thighs that pressed together, and together with my growing ass, my days of wearing jeans were done.

My ass ballooned behind me. I could hear it straining the jeans and then blowing out the back of my pants like an overfilled balloon. My perfect ass cheeks, real toned head turners, became blobs of blubber. My beautiful butt, arguably my favorite feature, became a shapeless mess of doughy cellulite covered fat. I felt my fingers press into that soft, pillowy flesh, and I felt that quivering fat fill the gaps between them. Then I felt those gaps shrink slightly, but it wasn’t because my fat ass was suddenly getting any smaller.

My fingers were getting chubby. And it wasn’t just my fingers. While they certainly grew in size, becoming thick like sausages, the rest of my hands grew into chubby mitts as well. Then the fat swelled up my wrists as it made its way up to my biceps and gave me billowy bingo wings just like my roommate.

I felt my breasts grow next, but they didn’t get nearly the appeal of Justine’s. My surging belly seemed to take on even more weight than hers, and my breasts, while certainly growing a good deal larger than they were, mostly just flopped sadly and sagged onto my growing gut. It was unfair. I couldn’t even have comically massive breasts to be proud of, just a big fat gut and a piggish face.

That’s right. The mirror showed me what I feared most. My beautiful face with its angular features was buried under fat. My cheeks swelled up like I was a fat, greedy chipmunk, and then they turned into pathetically sad and jiggle jowls. I grew multiple chins, thick folds of fat that dangled from my face and largely obscured my fat neck. I felt like I looked like an idiot as it seemed like even my forehead grew a little fatter. My nose certainly did. It widened as it got fatter, and I looked rather piggish indeed complete with the beady eyes thanks to the generous size of my jowls.

I’m an obese cow now, a big ball of blubber. The good news is, at least I think Justine is fatter. It’s hard to tell though because we don’t really do much in the way of moving nowadays. We certainly can’t fit on a normal kind of scale at the very least. But I feel like she’s fatter, and that’s good enough for me.

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“It Starts With a Dare”

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Playing with Thick Burger can be a dangerous game.

People hear the stories all the time. Hell, it’s impossible to ignore what is happening, the way Thick Burger has clearly contributed to steadily rising obesity rates. At this point, most if not everybody knows at least one formerly thin person in their life who is now clinically obese thanks to the addictive diet that Thick Burger encourages. Pretty much everybody has seen someone they love and care about, or despise with great jealousy go from fit to fat, and even numerous people who have tried to speak out against Thick Burger in the past have fallen into their trap and have become fat, greedy slobs.

It’s honestly very funny which is why so many arrogant people keep falling into the same trap. They think they’re better than the others. They think they’re better than Thick Burger.

It starts with a dare.

Picture this, you’ve got a group of sorority sisters or something, a group of young, hot women who feel incredibly privileged because, for their entire lives, people have fallen all over them because of their looks. They have perfect bodies and the charisma to go with it, and they know that their whole lives are ahead of them. Maybe a few of these ladies have even convinced themselves that this time in their life is primetime for their metabolisms. They’ve all survived the freshman fifteen. They’ve been to plenty of parties and consumed plenty of beer without developing a beer belly. So these ladies can handle Thick Burger right? Sure they’ve heard the stories, but they’re better than that. Just one Thick Burger won’t change who they are.

But Thick Burger is different.

Thick Burger isn’t just added calories. It’s a delicious way to rewire your brain completely. It’s like an addictive drug that’s completely legal. Eating Thick Burger, even just trying it once, is like asking to be fattened. If you eat at Thick Burger you might as well buy clothes from the plus-sized store. It’ll be cheaper than dealing with inflation later on because your body is certainly going to inflate to the point of needing some fat clothes. 

And you’ll call them fat clothes as if they’re temporary as if you’re ever going to get back to being a slim hottie again. But once you eat Thick Burger, there is no going back. You’re stuck in your fat clothes, at least until you grow out of those two. Then it’s time for some fatter clothes. Fatter and fatter still.

But let’s go back to the sorority scenario for a moment.

Picture those vain young hotties sitting at a table inside Thick Burger. They’re in tight low rise jeans and crop tops to perfectly showcase their tight asses and toned stomachs, and they’re nibbling on salads. Perfectly harmless, salad, right? It’s low calorie. It’s quick. And at Thick Burger it’s surprisingly delicious and cheap.

That’s how they get you.

The slim and sexy sorority sisters are eating their salads and maybe even drinking their Diet Cokes, but they’re smelling the burger patties. Their mouths are practically salivating at the smell of french fries and onion rings. And did you know Thick Burger recently introduced mozzarella sticks?

Then the dare comes.

Who will be the first to actually try a burger? Who thinks their truly better than all the fat slobs who are stuffing their faces like absolute pigs? Eventually, all three of the sorority sisters get up to order a burger. They make sure to get avocado on it because avocado is the good kind of fat. While on line they even talk themselves into getting fries. One of them convinces the other two that they should split an order of mozzarella sticks. After all, this is now officially a cheat meal. They might as well go big.

They’re going to go big alright.

You can tell by their order that they’re already doomed. They’ve let their empty stomachs do too much thinking for them, and now those slender stomachs are doomed to become big bloated pot bellies.

One year later and the formerly slender women are cautionary tales. They’re sorority sows now and Thick Burger regulars. They can barely go a day without a double Thick Burger with extra cheese, bacon and avocado along with a large order of fries, an order of onion rings, and an order of mozzarella sticks (no sharing anymore) and an extra thick and cream milkshake to wash it all down.

They’ve got big bloated double bellies, blubber guts made to cram all of this fattening food into without a second thought. Their blubber butts are equally huge, spilling over the chairs that they’re sitting on and you just know that one day they’ll need two, one for each colossal cellulite covered cheek. 

Those thighs of theirs have gotten crazy thick as well, even thicker than the milkshakes that have helped to fill them with fat. All of the sorority sows now have thunder thighs that slap and rub together and force them to waddle about like the slow lumbering cows that they are now instead of strutting like the confident babes that they were. 

They’ve got big breasts, sure, but their claim to fame is the blubber bellies they’re all packing. The three large ladies have lard filled arms too, but thick flabby ones. Bingo wings flop about as they greedily stuff their fat faces with greasy food. 

And those faces, those previously model quality faces with their stuck up noses are now bloated, greasy messes. The three ladies have jiggly jowls a multiple chins that wobble as they stuff their greedy mouths with food. Those stuck up noses are wide with fat and make them look incredibly piggish as they snort while they messily scarf down their latest fattening feast. 

It’s too late for them. They can’t help themselves anymore. They’ve lost all control and become fatter than any of the girls they used to make fun of on campus or in high school. They’re no longer slim and sexy and in control. They’re nothing more than helpless, pathetic, gluttonous pigs with big greedy guts and a bottomless appetite for Thick Burger. 

And what about you? 

You’ve got grease dripping down your chin. You’re hooked already aren’t you? That’s right. You thought you were better, but you’re not. You’re about to be a hopeless pig. You’re already getting soft. Your belly is growing. You thighs are thicker and your ass is softer. Even you face, I can see your face softening and getting piggish. You’re not an obese hog yet, but it’s in your future, and that’s good enough for me. 

"There's Sex in This One" - Fat Trimmings Extra Slice #1

Here it is. New Year, New Tiers, and this is the first story for my new 7 dollar tier.

Enjoy!

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Lexi loves sex. Of course, sex is a lot different for her now that she’s a fatty. 

When she was slim, and what most people would consider sexy, sex was easy for her. Everybody wanted to be with Lexi, gender didn’t matter, if they saw Lexi they wanted to be with her. She had this irresistible quality about her. It wasn’t just that she had a hot body- which she did. Lexi’s body was one of those one in a million types where she was both muscular but trim. She was slender but curvy. Every bit of her body was exactly how society said it was supposed to be. Lexi was like a supermodel without the need for photoshop. She just walked around in life like she just came off the cover of a magazine.

No. Not walk. Lexi didn’t walk. Lexi strut. She strutted around like she owned any room she entered into. She had a strut like a model, a strut that said she was in control. 

And all of that confidence was something that really attracted people to Lexi. It had people tripping over themselves to get closer to her, to do her bidding. 

Of course, all of this stuff went directly to Lexi’s head. While she had a great body, she always had a great big ego. Lexi loved being in control and she loved putting others in the place she felt they belonged. She loved flaunting her body in front of every. She loved putting others down, starting rumors, criticizing others behind their back and to their faces. Lexi loved being the dominant one, especially when it came to the bedroom. 

Sex was a weapon to Lexi. It was another tool in her arsenal to bend others to her control. She loved teasing the possibility of it out there and then reject people. She loved sex, but she wasn’t afraid of withholding it. She would love to use it as a way to emasculate others, to prop up her own power. 

Then she got fat. 

Lexi didn’t see that coming. She was always one for indulgence, and not just in the bedroom. Lexi was the kind of person who was far too over confident with her metabolism. She was perfect and unstoppable, therefore, her metabolism must have been unstoppable. Only losers had to diet. The word wasn’t in Lexi’s vocabulary.

Well, it should have been. 

Instead, Lexi’s penchant for indulgence, for fried foods in particular, eventually led to a complete collapse of her metabolism, and the collapse of her metabolism led to an expansion of her waistline, her waistline and every other part of her slim and sexy body. Her abs were the first thing that vanish as they became obscured by a small layer of fat. It was a cute little belly really, adorable. She could have pulled it off honestly. That first bit of softness made her even more attractive to some people. And when she first noticed that first bit of pudge around her belly it made her self-conscious for the first time ever. That tiny crack in her confidence made her more receptive to some prospects should would have normally outright rejected because it made her feel better to be wanted, and sex made her feel in control.

So she had more sex.

And when her partners would touch that soft bit of flab around her middle, when they would inevitably sink a hand into one of her softer thighs or run those hands over her emerging love handles, she would recoil just a bit. Sometimes that would end things, it broke the illusion even though that was the last thing Lexi wanted. Sometimes though….

Sometimes it just made her partners want her even more.

That bit of self-consciousness made her irresistible to some. They would squeeze her harder, really make her feel how yielding her chubby body was as they made her moan in pleasure. If her body tried to repel against her desires and pull away again, they were there to keep her going, to pull her tight and make her feel wanted and desired even as she was growing more disgusted by her growing body.

The disgust that she had with herself and the confusion that emerged in her bedroom life just led to her stress eating. She attempted to drown all of the complex feelings that she was having in ice cream and chocolate syrup, and every new pound that made her feel more uncomfortable with her fattening body meant that Lexi found herself turning to comfort food more and more. She was quite the eater, and it was making her quite fat.

Lexi’s thighs lost their tone and began thick flabby thunder thighs. It repulsed her how much they slapped together when she had sex. Lexi used to love being on top, but the slapping of her thighs meant that she was much more receptive to letting herself be pinned down to the bed, giving up control to her hungry lovers. Then she would only have to feel the inevitable bounce of her belly and breasts.

Those breasts were getting sloppy. Lexi had always loved them, and loved showing them off, but the fatter she got the heavier they got. They were big flabby boulders sagging downward and covered in stretch marks. They put a lot of strain on her back, a back that was developing fat rolls as well. 

But Lexi couldn’t help any of that because she couldn’t stop herself from eating. The more she ate the fatter she got, and once she slipped passed the chubby stage and became a full blown fatty she lost a lot of her regular suitors. Many of them left with a few very harsh words about her fattening form, and several of those made a point of physically showing her how flabby and out of shape she was getting. 

It was true, she was getting out of shape, and sex was getting harder for her as a result. The growing amount of blubber that plagued her previously thin body meant that Lexi was becoming far too self-conscious to keep regularly going to the gym. The gym was full of people who were like she used to be, people who loved to be in control, to put others down. After a few exceptionally humiliating session, including one that involved her ripping her exercise shorts in front of a fatty from high school who had since slimmed down, Lexi swore off the gym for good. 

That made the spiral into obesity impossible to escape. 

Each day the pounds kept coming. Her outfits kept ripping. And the distance between her sexual encounters grew wider. With that happening, Lexi became more and more desperate. She used to be the one who enjoyed being the victor in sexual conquests, but her dry spell left her feeling like a horny, pathetic loser. So she found herself throwing herself at people, especially fat people.

In her mind, if she was a fatty it made sense that the people who would be into her were other desperate fatties. And if her partner’s flabby was moving and shaking all night long, it might distract from her own. (Except of course when fat was slapping against fat which happened a lot.) Of course, this well led her to the inevitable.

Lexi started to have sex with the people she used to make fun of and reject.

She didn’t just have sex with them either. She willingly threw herself at them. She made it very clear that she was desperate and was ready to be a good submissive piggy. And the people that took that line loved the role reversal, they loved punishing the cheerleader turned piggy. Lexi was called all sorts of names in bed, her fat was played with, she was made to oink like the good little piggy that she was.

And her fat ass was frequently spanked.

Lexi’s ass had truly ballooned over time. She developed two bulbous quivering ass cheeks that shook with each trust that she took or move that she made. Her blubber butt shook like even the slightest movement was an earthquake. Her lovers loved to ride her bareback. They called it piggy style. And often she would feel her partner’s fat gut slapping against her back, and she would feel her blubbery thighs and fat ass cheeks clapping together.

And that’s what she does now, the former queen, she loves her sex even though she hates all the sweaty flabby fat that covers her body. She can feel it all, the arousal and the shame that comes with how far she has fallen, all while she knows that she’s going to become so much fatter still and fall so much farther. Lexi wants to be the lean mean sex machine she used to be. She would give anything to make that happen. But it won’t happen. She’s a helpless sex addicted fatty. She has no control anymore, only untamed desire like a wild animal, a very very fat one. She is a naughty, desperate horny piggy who can’t get enough, not enough sex, not enough food.

It will never be enough.

“Fat Trimmings” Volume 38

It’s the last Tuesday of the year, and what a fitting way to end the year than with another volume of “Fat Trimmings”. So here are three new stories to ring in the new year with.

But before I get to the stories I have a quick announcement.

More tiers are coming to Patreon! That’s right, it’s what I’m calling New Year New Tiers. I will be launching a 7 dollar tier and a 10 dollar tier? What does that mean? It means more content. People who pay at my current tiers will still get the same amount of high quality content that I’ve been putting out (including Patreon exclusive content) but my New Year’s resolution is to pump out even more content and the new tiers will let me do that. So if you end up upgrading your tier, you’ll be getting even more great content that you love.

New tiers will be launching (hopefully) tomorrow with a new exclusive “Fat Trimmings” story for the 7 dollar tier and a lot more information.

But hey, you’re here for stories right now, so….

Enjoy!

“Tiana’s True Potential”

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People always said that Tiana had real potential. She was always top of her class, voted most likely to succeed. She was head cheerleader and prom queen, and people just generally knew that she was special. She wasn’t even mean like so many other girls with all of her qualities were. Tiana wasn’t particularly vain, and she was always very sociable and kind. She was just a gold hearted go-getter with one big secret.

Tiana wanted to be lazy.

She just wanted to lounge around all day and do as little as possible. She wanted to loaf about with no plans in her life, no real aspirations or anything. All she wanted to do was sit around, and perhaps eat. That was another thing Tiana wanted to do.

Tiana wanted to be fat.

She wanted to be fat and lazy and sit around enjoying being nothing but a fat useless waste of space, a big fat lazy slob without a care in the world. She imagined herself stuffing her face with whatever struck her fancy and letting her waistline expand. Tiana imagined herself easily switching from stylish dresses and fancy slacks to stretchy outfits and loose sweatpants. Wouldn’t it be lovely to spend her days lounging about nice and cozy in oversized hoodies and with her own natural cushioning.

Another thing about Tiana was that she secretly found fat people to be outrageously attractive. Although she kept herself trim and toned, this was purely out of what she felt was societal pressure. She was what society said was hot because society said it was better to be hot than fat even though fat was what she truly found to be hot.

Tiana loved watching fat people waddle about. While her vain friends were always eager to judge fatties, to shoot sneers their way and call them rude names, Tiana always looked at them with silent admiration. She grew warm watching fat bellies bounce and big blubbery butts sway. She loved to watch thunder thighs slap together, and when she watched people who were extremely obese having to stop to catch their breath, Tiana found her own breath hitching.

Her freshman year of college, Tiana had a roommate that put on far more than the freshman fifteen. Day after day was a thrilling experience for Tiana who never said anything but had a hard time not mentally documenting every small change, every new ounce, every small inch of fat. And she would never openly admit it, but Tiana knew the truth. Several of those pounds were put there by Tiana herself. She was fond of fostering bad habits, of making sure her vain roommate was well fed until her abs were gone and her pants were soundly outgrown. The sounds of her roommates frustrations was like music to Tian’s ears.

It wasn’t until midway through her sophomore year of college that Tiana finally decided that she was going to live her dream. But once she decided to let herself go, the slope was beyond slippery. It was like she fell off a cliff. The fat piled on at a ridiculously fast pace as if she was always meant to be a fatty and the weight had just been waiting to come on. Now that weight was making up for lost time.

Tiana’s thighs exploded. The toned limbs became soft tubby thunder thighs, thick with fat and cellulite and rubbing together. By the end of her sophomore year of college, she had put on so much weight that her thighs were already close to pressing together so much that she was forced to waddle about.

Those thighs were accompanied by a soft squeezable ass, a plush and blubbery butt, the natural cushioning that she had yearned for for so long, and once it blossomed into a blubber butt that burst through her designer jeans, Tiana was more than eager to trade those tight pants for comfortable sweats with plenty of room to grow into. She loved the feeling of her butt getting bigger, softer. Even as she heard people bemoan the loss of her “perfect” ass, all it did was make her moan as all she became far hotter than anyone ever thought she was. The comments just encouraged her to eat even more, to get her ass even bigger, to make herself even fatter.

Fatter.

It was a beautiful word.

The abs that Tiana had grown so bored with were soon replaced by a greedy gut that she could feel proud of. Her once trim stomach blew surged outward, and fat wrapped around her in the form of meaty love handles and a thick roll of back fat. She quickly developed a mighty muffin top and removed all traces of her former fitness thanks to the big jiggling pot belly that she loved to frequently sink her fingers into. She loved the feeling of the fat oozing between her fingers as she massaged her blubbery belly. She loved the way her greedy little gut liked to poke out from under her shirts and catch the attention of her friends. Tiana was quite pleased with how big her belly was getting, with the weight that caused it to sag over the stretched out waistbands of the sweatpants she found herself wearing.

Even Tiana’s toned arms grew fat and flabby. Her biceps became floppy bingo wings, and her hands grew chubby. Even her fingers became thick like little sausages. Her arms were weak and flabby, simply designed now just for shoveling food into her mouth.

Tiana’s breasts grew larger, heavier, fatter. They surged forward with quite a bit of heft, filled her tops generously and gave her impressive cleavage to say the least. Her blubbery breasts billowed forth and also sagged downward heavy with fat. They were covered in stretch marks and quivered with even the slightest movement.

Finally, her face grew fat as well. She developed very chubby cheeks and a doughy double chin that gave her face a perpetually adorable look. She loved the way her double chin would inflate whenever she moved her had and had a lot of fun playing around with angles to see just how big she could make it. She loved stuffing her face in front of the mirror and watching her jowls jiggle.

Hell, watching herself eat was an incredible turn on, something even she hadn’t anticipated. She enjoyed pigging out in front of others as well. Suddenly she loved all the attention that she got, from those who stared at her in judgment to those whose eyes were filled with admiration. She could tell that lots of people were looking at her with scorn.

But she knew she was lusted after too.

She knew there were plenty of people around her just like she used to be, secretly pining for fatness, secretly enjoying the show. And she felt obligated to really make it a show for those people, to unlock in others what had been unlocked in herself.

Plus camgirl modeling was a great way to make money.

She didn’t even have to pay for food anymore. She would just have her loyal fans donate it to her. Most of the time she would eat all her meals on camera, large elaborate affairs, and when Tiana realized that people would pay just to watch her casually snack, she began to practically live in front of the camera, stuffing her face, playing with her fat and oinking like a pig.

Sure it was disgusting to the family and friends who found out what she was doing for a living, but that just added to the perverse sense of pleasure that Tiana got. Everything that she did she did out in the open, shamelessly and with great joy. She loved stuffing her face and lounging around for money. It was truly like living a dream come true. Every time she watched the view counter and the subscriber count increase as she rubbed her big blubbery belly and stuffed herself with cookies or cake or whatever else it was that she could get her chubby hands on at the moment, it brought another satisfied moan to her lips.

Tiana, who had once been voted most likely to succeed, dropped out of college before her senior year. And she still went on to be a massive success, as well as being just plain massive. She didn’t need school. She made her fortune and fame just by being who she was.

And she was a big fat greedy cow who couldn’t be happier.

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“No More Fit. Just Get Fat”

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Give it up. You’re not meant to be fit. You’re mine now. And I say you’re meant to grow. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. All you have to do is eat. You don’t even have to get up.

I don’t want you to get up.

All you have to do is sit there and eat the food that I give you like a good little piggy. Is that too much to ask, for you to be my nice obedient little fatty? Do it. Be my obedient fatty.

Or be a naughty fatty. I don’t care. Be naughty. Naughty can be fun. I wouldn’t mind having a naughty little piglet around, a naughty, greedy little piglet. Would you like that? Would you like to be my naughty little piglet?

Would you like me to punish you?

I can punish you. I can make you eat a whole lot more.

You’d like that. You want that. I know you do. You want me to feed you. You want me to stuff you to the gills, to make that stomach stretched out and fit to bursting. You want to get fat, obese. You want to let your inner piggy out. I know this. You’ve just been waiting for someone like me to give you a little push, to give you permission, to show you just how much you want to get fat.

How do I know this?

Because if you didn’t want to be a fatty, you would have left by now.

But you’re still here.

And I can see it in your eyes.

You want to eat.

You want to get fat.

You want to be a piggy.

My piggy.

Of course you do. After all, isn't it more fun to eat cookies and cake instead of carrots? Wouldn’t you rather just lounge about with no responsibilities rather than workout at the gym. Working out can be so painful. You can really hurt yourself if you’re not careful. Nobody gets hurt eating an eclair. And once you’re nice and fat, good and soft, you’ll have plenty of extra protective padding around you.

So say goodbye to those silly abs you’ve wasted so much time perfecting. I know you like to say that you’ve earned them, but really what have you done but deny yourself all the finer things in life? Is that earning something? All you’ve done is punished yourself and you have such superficial things to show for it. A sexy six pack won’t keep you warm like a nice fluffy elly will. Fat keeps you warm. Fat is good. Fat is what you want. You want to pack on the blubber, grow a nice big gut and let all of those muscles go. Feel them go slack. Feel them get covered in the fat the comes from gorging yourself on everything your little piggy heart desires.

Picture your thighs giving way. No more lean toned limbs, no more strong legs. You don’t need them. You just need to sit and eat and let your thighs turn into thick thunder thighs, fat, weak, pathetic things. You’ll be waddling about wherever you go, and you’ll never go very far. You’re going to be too fat and weak. You’ll get winded just from going short distances. And that’s okay. That’s what I’m here for.

I’m here to take care of you.

All you have to do is sit on your fat ass.

That’s right. No more tight, tone, head turning ass for you. Say goodbye to that perky perfect butt. People won’t even see very much of it anymore because you’re going to spend so much time with your fat flabby butt pressed to the couch cushions. But when they do see it, won’t it be a sight. It’s going to be big and soft and saggy. On the rare occasions that you get up from the couch it’ll look like you’ve taken two big cushions with you.

Your chest is going to get bigger, softer, saggier. Your arms are going to be fat, useless things, flabby bingo wings, fat arms with chubby hands and sausage fingers good for nothing but shoving food into your fat face. And trust me, that beautiful face of yours is going to get so fat, downright piggish with the jiggly jowls and multiple chins you’re going to have.

So no more fitness for you. Say goodbye to your hot body and no more complaining. I’m going to give you what you really want, even if it comes with a side of judgments and lots of laughter from your so-called friends. That’s what you get for laughing at fatties for so long with them. You’ve conditioned them, and now they’re going to laugh at you as you lose your fine conditioning and become a big obese hog, a naughty, greedy pig.

That’s what you want, and that’s what I’m going to give you.

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

“I Wish I Could Quit You”

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I wish I could quit you, Thick Burger. But you’re just so damn delicious. With your big beefy patties and your variety of toppings. I can put anything I want on you, and all I want to do is put you down.

But I can’t.

And that’s cost me.

I’m so fat now, and I used to be so fit. People found me sexy. And well… some people still find me sexy, but it’s a very different crowd nowadays. The people who love my fat lumpy body, most of them are pretty lumpy themselves.

I’ve always found fat admirers to be such an odd bunch. Growing up always being one of the hot ones meant that I was always the kind of person to make fun of fat people. That’s just what I was always taught. Fat people are disgusting. Fat people are lazy. They’re greedy. They’re losers.

Well I’m a big fat loser now thanks to Thick Burger.

And yet, I keep finding people online who like fat people, who don’t just LIKE fat people, who LOVE fat people. They love fat. They love people being fat. They love the idea of people getting fat. Do you know that there’s this huge community of people who like to see hot people like myself turned into fatties? They pay a lot of money to watch big fat models eat and purposefully gain weight. There’s a whole industry of people making money stuffing their fat faces and shaking their bellies for the camera. It’s so broad that there’s like categories for these kinds of things.

There are people whose whole thing is just eating. There are people who roleplay getting fat. There are those who act like fat is the sexiest thing ever, and there are people who love to be teased and humiliated for being fat. The range of fat dirty talk is astounding. And people will like claim to love fat and find it so sexy in one post while degrading fat people in another. They praise it and see it as this perfect karmic punishment for people like me at the same time.

How fucked up is that? Right. Like people just are so in love with fat however they can get it that they don’t care how hypocritical they might be.

So yeah, I’m somebody’s fantasy. Did you know that? I’m one of those fit vain hotties who lost their figure and now gets made fun of like the people I used to make fun of. I’m a helpless pathetic pig who can’t stop eating, especially Thick Burger.

And like, okay, seeing it I could get I guess. Like, I’ve watched porn and fat porn is still porn. But do you know that people just like read about getting fat? They write stories about it and pay to read them just because the idea of someone better than they are getting fat is really really hot to them?

I could make a lot of money from my story, I’ll tell you that. I was plenty popular. I was plenty mean. And now I’m plenty fat.

I’ve got a big blubbery belly and thick thunder thighs. I’ve got a fat flabby ass and lots of blubber all off. My beautiful face is now fat and greasy and piggish with a doughy double chin and jiggle jowls. I heard a lot of those things are real trigger words for people. They love reading them, hearing them, over and over again. It doesn’t matter how often they’re repeated. I’m a fat fat fatty with thunder thighs and a blubber belly and a doughy double chin and all of this junk in my trunk. I could just say it out loud like that over and over and over again and people would eat that shit up.

Just like I eat up Thick Burger.

I can’t stop eating Thick Burger no matter how much damage I know it’s done. I know it’s made me fat, humiliated me, and I know it’s going to make me fatter, so much fatter because I can’t stop eating. It’s turning me into a total cow, a completely helpless, pathetic cow.

And did you know there’s a whole community of people whose focus is on how much Thick Burger makes people fat. That’s like an entire sub-fetish of fat loving people, they love Thick Burger related stories. They tell each other about what they’ve seen. They swap pictures and stories. They make up elaborate Thick Burger fanfics of like Taylor Swift, Kim Kardashian, Sidney Sweeney, Selena Gomez and Sabrina Carpenter getting fat off of Thick Burger. Can you picture all those hotties getting fat because they can’t stop eating Thick Burger and they become famous for being fat slobs? People love that kind of shit. They really want to picture Selena Gomez with a big fat gut. (And in fairness she is looking kind of chunky nowadays. And I think Sabrina Carpenter has hips that make it clear she was real potential to blow up in just a few year. Hand them some Thick Burger and you could really speed the process up.)

That’s the life I’m living right now. I’m just one of those hotties who was handed a Thick Burger a long time ago and let myself go. I’ve let life get out of hand, lost control like the greedy little piglet that I am and turned into a fat fucking hog.

So what’s a former hottie like me supposed to do now that I’m an absolute tub of lard, a fat fucking pig?

The problem is that food costs are getting higher and higher. And I can’t quit Thick Burger, no matter how fat I get, no matter how much people laugh at me. I’m stuck between a rock and a fat place. How can I earn more money to pay for more food to stuff my fat face with?

Well, people pay a lot of money to see hot people get humbled. And I know plenty of losers that I used to make fun of who would pay top dollar to watch me do whatever they want including stuffing my face and linking while I slap my belly.

If I can’t quite Thick Burger, I might as well get paid to eat it.

"A Fattening of Friends" (An Exclusive Cut)

Here is another patreon exclusive spin-off of "Fattening the Naughty and the Nice". In this one, the nice Cecilia gets to watch her vain and naughty friends grow fatter than she is.

Enjoy!

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Cecilia felt so awkward at the get together at her friend Lindsey’s off-campus apartment. Lindsey was one of a trio of people that Cecilia had been friends with for as long as she could remember. She had known Lindsey, and her other friends Maya and Eva since they had been attending the same dance classes. They became especially close during high school where they were known as one of their school’s more popular clique. Even then though, Cecilia felt like she was different from the others. She was always what one would consider to be the nice one. People often asked why she still hung out with Maya and Eva. They were afraid that their vanity and cattiness would be a bad influence on Cecilia.

“Hey, Chubs. Last one here as usual,” greeted Maya as she walked through the door.

“Of course she’s the last one here. It takes her a long time to waddle her fat ass across campus,” added Eva. 

“Glad you could make it, Blubber Buns,” chimed Lindsey. 

Cecilia’s three “friends” all looked gorgeous in their perfectly slutty holiday outfits. There were all wearing more of less the same thing, Christmas colored mini-dresses that clung tightly to their perfectly toned curves. Lindsey’s was a white dress with red trim. Maya was wearing red with white trim and Eva was wearing green with white trim. The dresses all clung to them so tightly that you could see the definition of their abs. They were cut low enough to give a good view of their cleavage and short enough to give the hope that if they moved in just the right way one might get a glimpse of their fabulous glutes.

Pre-gaming was happening before some big campus party, and shots were being taken. Two were quickly thrust into Cecilia’s hands as she was told to catch up. She did one but hesitated with the second.

“Oh come on. You’ve got plenty of fat to absorb the alcohol. Hell, we should make you do four since you’re twice the size of the rest of us,” said Lindsey with an inebriated laugh.

“Oink. Oink,” chuckled an equally intoxicated Eva.

Maya was the first one to notice the box that Lindsey was now holding. She had taken it from Cecilia in order to hand Cecilia the shots.

It was the box of Christmas cookies.

“What have we got here?” asked Maya as she eyed the box.

She quickly snatched it from Lindsey’s hands and tore it open.

“Ooooo. Christmas cookies. So fun. So fattening. But I guess one can’t hurt.”

Eva also found herself magically drawn to the box. She was not normally one for sweets.

“We ought to have a few and save you from yourself, Fatty. We can handle these way better than you can.”

She snagged a cookie along with Maya and soon the box was on a table and all three of Cecilia’s friends were ripping into it, grabbing cookies two at a time.

And those cookies had the predictable effects.

Eva was the first to grow, and her weight gain started down below her waist. She grew a wide rump, two lumps of soft buttery fat began to jiggle as the tone in her ass was quickly lost with each bite of the cookies that she was starting to cram into her mouth. Her butt cheeks really grew bloated, and the dress she was wearing rolled up enough to reveal the saggy bottoms of them. Her now blubbery butt grew outward like a shelf of fat but also quickly caved and started sagging onto the back of her thighs. Her buns of steel were no more, they were now just flabby, pasty blubber buns covered in cottage cheese like cellulite.

Her thighs grew swollen with fat. Her prized thigh gap quickly disappeared as the blubber filled her previously lean limbs. The muscle tone disappeared, replaced by flab and cellulite, and her fat quickly slapped together. She did not notice the sensation of her fat thighs slapping and rubbing together as she continued to eat the cookies with reckless abandon, but while she pigged out, hunched over the cookie box desperate for every crumb she could get her fat thighs forced her to widen her stance. Then, of course her calves and ankles swelled up as well. Even Eva’s feet grew fat.

While it was clear that Eva was turning into an enormous pear shape, her lower half wasn’t the only part of her that was getting fat.

Eva’s abs melted into her soft squishy pot belly. It bounced and jiggled with every single bite. And every time she brought another cookie to her lips, it was clear just her flabby her arms were becoming as her tone biceps became flopping bingo wings. Her chest grew saggy with fat, but her breasts did not grow at nearly the same pace as the rest of her. Eva’s face swelled up with fat to cap things off. She grew a nice rounded full moon face with a thick double chin to compliment her chubby cheeks. Everything about her jiggled as she ate like a pig.

Of course, she wasn’t the only one pigging out and plumping up.

Maya munched away at the cookies, and her slim figure began to fatten accordingly.

Unlike the extremely bottom heavy Eva, Maya took on a much more apple like shape. Most of her weight gain became centered on her belly which filled with blubber. Her well honed abs were gone in an instant, and her dress was strained as a big fat gut took its place. Maya’s pot belly surged forward. Her soft belly ballooned into a jiggle gut and then a spherical spare tire. She continued to blow up like a balloon, growing rounded as her sides gained two meaty love handles. The big blubbery belly began to bounce up and down as she ate. It jiggled and swayed with each bite of a cookie. Her blubber gut sagged downward until the lower portion of her double belly rolled out from underneath her dress. Her stomach was a saggy apron of fat, and the lowest part of that saggy, mushy mess was now completely exposed, a dangling sag of fat spilling out from under her dress.

That dress was further strained up top by her breasts which grew to absolutely massive proportions. She grew titanic tits that gave her cavernous cleavage. Her bouncing breasts undulated as they filled with fat, and they overwhelmed the top of her dress so much that the top of her saucer sized areolas were clearly visible. But she didn’t seem to care. She was only interested in eating more cookies.

The more Maya munched the fatter the rest of her body got. She grew thick thunder thighs and a big fat ass that also stretched out her dress. Her arms grew flabby and her face grew fat. Just like Eva, Maya’s face also developed jiggly jowls and a doughy double chin.

Then there was Lindsey.

Lard settled on Lindsey’s body quite differently than the other two. Whereas Eva was extremely bottom heavy and Maya was massive up top, Lindsey grew large all over. Most of her new found fat landed on her chest and ass giving her a wide hourglass figure. She wasn’t nearly as generous up top as Maya or as titanic down below as Eva because the sands of fat were distributed pretty evenly.

Of course, Lindsey also gained a sizable belly that bounced and jiggled, and she had tremendously flabby bingo wings as well. If anything, her face also got the fattest. Her doughy double chin seemed extra doughy. She had more jiggle to her jowls, and even her nose grew wider and fatter to give her a rather piggish looking face, something that was especially clear as she snorted while she ate cookie after cookie after cookie.

The other thing that changed for all three girls was their attitudes. With their muscles now relaxed into saggy fat, their attitudes also relaxed. There was no more judgment, only hunger, only a desire to continue to stuff their faces with delicious cookies.

“These are so good, CC,” moaned Maya.

snort “Hell yeah,” agreed Lindsey as she shoved another cookie into her mouth.

“They go great with eggnog,” said Eva as she poured herself a glass of the creamy concoction. 

Glasses were poured for all, and Cecilia smiled as she looked at her friends as they all began to settle in for the night to a Christmas movie marathon and a lot more munchies.

She was now the lightest of the bunch. Cecilia was still incredibly fat, but thanks to the way the girls were pigging out on the cookies, they were now far fatter than the friend that they were previously making fun of. There were no rude words for them now. Their mouths were too full of cookies. 

After today, the fatties would have to deal with the same kinds of judgments and humiliations that they subjected others to for years, but for now they had each other the spirit of the holidays as they continued to stuff their faces with treats and enjoyed movies and time together.

Cecilia and all of her much larger friends took up two couches, but they were all fat and very happy.

Clumsy Claudia's Career as a Cam Cow (An Exclusive Cut)

Here is an over 1,500 word patreon exclusive spin-off of "Fattening the Naughty and the Nice"

Enjoy!

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Clumsy Claudia didn’t know what to do. Her butt was so big that she was now exceptionally prone to knocking things over. She remembered that at some point she had been thin, she was a real slim and sexy vixen, the kind of person who was in control, the kind of person who made fun of others. But now it seemed to her that she was so damn fat, so blubbery and round, that it was hard to imagine she was ever thin in the first place, especially with a big butt as fat and flabby as hers was.

That flabby butt was fat as hell. While she had the most fleeting memories of a tight and toned posterior that drew the attention of others, Claudia now had a big fat dumper that brought plenty of stares with it, but that was because of how wide and fat it was. Claudia’s big blubbery butt had a real squishy quality to it. People could tell from a mile away that it was soft and squeezable. She had a real squishy butt with no muscle quality whatsoever. Instead she had two doughy ass cheeks, titanic balls of blubber that sagged and shook with even the smallest of movements. Her blubber butt loved to quiver.

It also loved to knock things over. Claudia’s fat ass was like a broken down shelf of blubber. While it had plenty of sag to it, it also stuck out quite far, and when paired with her wide hips, this meant that there was an awful lot of swing to her lower half. Her lack of control and her inability to know just how close her fat butt was to things meant that Claudia frequently knocked things over when she swung her mighty hips around and her big butt followed through. That was humiliating enough, but of course the real show came after, when she bent over.

Bending over gave everyone a great view of just how fat Claudia’s once firm butt had gotten. Her blubbery butt cheeks undulated up and down as she struggled to get herself low enough to pick up whatever it was that her blubber butt had knocked over in the first place. Of course, Claudia wouldn’t have been giving people nearly as good of a view if it wasn’t for her choice of outfits.

Claudia just couldn’t stop wearing dresses, short dresses, dresses that thanks to her wide hips, blubbery ass and meaty thighs, were constantly riding up and exposing plenty of rich, well marbled, dimpled fat. It was like she felt this compulsive need to constantly show off just how fat she had gotten, just how blubbery and out of shape she was. 

She was a naughty fat girl now, and she needed the world to know it.

The formerly fit girl who loved to judge others now felt her chubby cheeks burn with arousal at the idea of being so humiliated by her size. Every time she bent over to pick something up and caught the sound of a snicker or the weight of a judgmental gaze, Claudia felt a warmth between her thunder thighs.

This was impressive because those thighs did not have a lot of room between them. In fact, they were big blubbery messes, and the fat on her flabby thunder thighs pressed together all the way down to her knees. She used to have a thigh gap that she was proud to show off in skinny jeans. But now she had two titanic tree trunk sized thunder thighs, big pillars of blubber that pressed against each other and pushed her stance out wide enough that she had no choice but to waddle. She moved with a slow, ponderous step. No more strutting around like a model now, just waddling around like a weak pathetic fat girl. Claudia didn’t mind waddling though, other than the discomfort that came from her chafing thighs. Moving slowly gave people plenty of time to see just how fat she was, to drink it all in.

And there was a lot to drink in.

Besides her bloated lower half, Claudia also possessed a preposterously blubbery pot belly. Her gut was massive and jutted out in front of her while also sloshing out to the sides. Her gelatinous gut was another reason her dresses kept riding up. Her spare tire constantly stretched the fabrics to its limit. Surely, the dresses would have exposed her panties if it wasn’t for the fact that her sagging gut got in the way. It mostly pulled the fabric down, bunching it in front. But even then, sometimes the soft flesh of her lower belly roll would pick out from underneath. And sometimes, the front of her belly would stay stuck to the dress and instead people would be treated to a generous amount of pale, flabby under belly.

Claudia used to have abs.

That seemed like a joke at this point. Any thought of having abs was a far off dream, drowned by the flabby reality of her blubbery belly and thick matching love handles. She was stuck as a lumbering blob with a big blubber belly and matching breasts that surged outward and sagged downward onto her gut to use it like a shelf made purely of rich, buttery flab. Her arms were flabby as well, perfect for pick up food and bringing it to her greedy mouth.

Her face was fat, redundantly round and glowing from the slightest bit of exertion. She frequently stuffed herself with whatever goodies were at hand. She stuffed herself with one hand while playing with her belly fat with the other. And both of those hands were extremely chubby with sausage fingers. Claudia’s jowls jiggled as she chewed and her doughy double chin wobbled like she was a fat turkey.

Claudia was used to being the center of attention, and that didn’t change when she got fat. All that changed was how the attention was given to her. Now she faced a lot of heavy judgment because of her heavy weight. Her fat body drew lots of mean looks and unkind words, and Claudia couldn’t help but be both embarrassed and aroused by them. She hated herself and the way her life was now given to constant humiliations because of how fat she had gotten. But she also couldn’t get enough of it.

That’s why Claudia made the career change to cam model, or a cam cow as her most ardent fans would refer to her. She decided to get paid to stuff herself and play with her fat live on camera while people either paid her compliments or insults. It didn’t matter to her as long as she got paid either way. More money meant more food, and Claudia was very happy to continually reinvest in her humiliating business.

She would frequently do custom videos as a way of making a lot of extra money. Those videos were often commissioned by people who she used to make fun of. In those videos she would be on all fours, oinking like a pig, apologizing for her past and talking all about how she deserved to be humiliated as she stuffed herself with whatever kinds of food people wanted her to eat. And Claudia was very content with this humiliating arrangement. It paid. It got her off. It made her hungry.

Claudia couldn’t help but feel like she deserved all of this. Maybe things could have been better for her if she was still a skinny bitch. She certainly wouldn’t have to rely on continued humiliation as a career. But since that humiliation was also her greatest source of pleasure, with food being an extremely close second, she had to admit that it was a pretty good trade off.

She was a fat and happy naughty little piggy. And that was her future. Each day she got to eat and touch herself as she read all of the nasty little comments that came along with her videos.

“You’re such a pig.”

“What a big fat loser.”

“That’s right. Stuff yourself some more, piglet.”

“You used to be so hot, but this is so much better. I love you fat and helpless.”

“No more control for you, you naughty little pig girl. You’re an unrelenting hog.”

“I love you like this. Oink. Oink. Loser.”

“This is karma at its finest, you blubbery whale.”

“EAT! EAT! EAT! STUFF YOURSELF FOR ME, YOU COW! YOU PIG!”

And Claudia did as she was told. She ate whatever people wanted her to eat. She jiggled her big belly for them. She oinked like a pig and mooed like a cow. She spanked her blubbery cellulite covered ass cheeks and sent her flabby flesh quivering. Her thighs shook and smacked against each other like crashing waves of flab, all while she moaned in pleasure and made sounds like the fat animal she had become.

“Moo. Moooo. MOOOOOOO!!!”

This was her life now, fat forever, helpless, horny and hungry. There was no going back to being the skinny self-centered bitch that she used to be. She lived to eat and humiliate herself for the amusement of others.

Claudia had quite the career as a big blubbery cow.

"Fattening the Naughty and the Nice"

Ho! Ho! Ho! Here's a holiday themed story for you all. Today also marks the one year anniversary of this patreon, so thank you to all of you who have been here for this ride. More news to come!

For now...

Enjoy!

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Cecilia was a spritely woman, short in stature and slender in frame, and the sugar cookie that she bit into quickly changed that.

The sugar crystals danced along her tongue as she bit into the cookie and savored its pleasure. That pleasure slid down her throat as a warm tingling sensation that filled her entire body from head down to her toes, toes that soon began to plump up every so slightly. Her perfect ballerina feet began to plump up, the first part of her to stop looking so petite as the pounds began to pile on.

Her feet had been delicate, dainty even, perfect feet for a spritely woman such as her to be strutting and springing about on. But as she took another bite of her sugar cookie, she began to look a lot more grounded as her feet continued to grow, and the fat that filled them soon worked its way up into her ankles which began to swell. Cecilia didn’t quite get to the point of developing cankles, but anyone looking at the size and shape of her lower legs would not be laughed at for making the prediction that cankles were a strong possibility in her future. Of course, the evidence in the argument for cankles continued to build as her thighs started to thicken.

Those thighs had been like twigs. While they technically had muscle tone, that tone was mostly an illusion created by the fact that her legs lacked much in the way of real weight at all. And that was swiftly changing with each new nibble of the sugar cookie. Cecilia’s thighs quickly lost any muscle tone they appeared to have as they grew plumper with each new found. The flesh gave way to fat and began to quiver as it filled her up. Her new thunder thighs trembled with fat that slapped together and became dimpled with cellulite. The springiness of her legs was replaced by the sponginess of the flesh that now took over her thighs, and the only spring was the way her flab could be pressed into and then spring back into shape.

Cecilia’s small pert butt cheeks became more generous in size and then unrecognizable from the tight cheeks they once were. By the time she finished the first sugar cookie and started on a second, her butt cheeks were incredibly flabby, soft and saggy and resting on her fatter thighs. Just like her thighs, her butt cheeks became dimpled with cellulite, and her thighs and butt grew so much that her leggings were stretched thin and sheer enough to show off those dimples. Her butt quivered with every little motion, bobbing with a mind of its own. Her blubbery buns kept bouncing as she began to eat sugar cookies with even greater speed and her body grew accordingly.

She walked into the store with an incredibly trim waist, something that couldn’t survive the pounds that were piling on. Her waist began to bow outward. Cecilia’s stomach had once had the appearance of tone, a flatness due to lack of eating. And now, as she stuffed more cookies into her face, the crumbs falling like snowflakes to the floor, she found the trim tummy of hers to be rounding out, bulging forward, jiggling as it grew. At its sides rose, like two loaves of bread, doughy love handles to compliment her pudgy pot belly and complete the muffin top that she had grown. There was no sign of thinness to be had, just a very pinchable pot belly, a jiggling little gut greedy for more cookies.

And as those cookies kept finding their way into Cecila’s mouth, she kept growing chubbier.

The fat moved upward into her previously fat chest which soon grew into a bountiful bosom that graciously filled out her top, a zip hoodie that began to unzip to reveal a generous amount of cleavage. The flesh of her breasts quivered as they continued to grow becoming soft pillows that surged outward and then started to sag down toward her chubby tummy. Her tubby tummy, which was still growing, pushed out in such a way that it also forced the bottom of her zip hoodie to ride upward and reveal her chubby muffin top to the world. Her adorably pudgy belly was exposed almost to the belly button as her stomach grew spongier and started to gently sag over the waistband of her leggings.

Fat filled her arms as well. She never really had biceps, but now she definitely had bingo wings as her arms grew fat enough to fill the sleeves of her zip hoodie and make them look like well stuffed pillow cases. Her arms were redundantly soft, and even her hands, which were still desperately and hungrily snatching up sugar cookies, were now chubby. Her fingers were close to being chubby little sausages, and they were thoroughly coated into sugar from the cookies she just kept eating.

As she ate those cookies, her face began to fatten. With each bite, her cheeks grew a little chubbier. At first it wasn’t clear how much was just a result of cookies being crammed into them, but it became clear soon enough that her cheeks were getting softer, fatter. Her entire face was rounding out bite by bite. Her chubby cheeks developed deep dimples and jiggly jowls along with a plump doughy double chin that wobbled about as she chewed. She looked so happy, so positively content with her plump moon-face as she continued to chow down, eating cookie after cookie and only stopping to occasionally lick some of the sugar off of her fingers before going back for more.

The petite girl was gone now. Cecilia was still quite short which meant that the pounds made her look incredibly plump. She was a round little ball of fat jiggling as she nibbled away. Crumbs and sugar decorated her face and fell into her cleavage, and her chubby hands still kept moving, and her belly had a jolly jiggle to it like jello that grew more pronounced with every new cookie that added new pounds to her pot belly. Through it all she smiled because she had unleashed something deep inside herself and was now a truly happy little piglet.

Yakov smiled at Cecilia’s happiness. While most of his time was spent dealing out karmic comeuppance, his own way of doing good in this world, he sometimes forgot how nice it was to make people happier, especially during the holiday season. Perhaps the holidays were making Yakov soft. They certainly had done just that to Cecilia. 

He chuckled at his own joke as he watched Cecilia finish up her snack and put a few more cookies in a box for her all tied up with a fancy ribbon and everything. 

“Now what were you saying about your friends, Cecilia?”

“Oh, they’re not really my friends. I mean, I guess they’re my friends. I’ve known them since high school and now we’re in college and I guess we still kinda hang out together since we know each other. But they’re the real clique and I’m kinda a hanger on, especially since I’ve gained quite a bit of weight. Now I barely see them and when I do they just treat me like… well… I guess… I guess I’m just the fat friend.”

Yakov gave Cecilia a soft smile as he handed her the box of cookies.

“You’re so much more than that. And I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot more of them after you share these delicious cookies with them. The holidays really do have a way of bringing people together. Just don’t let them get you down. Don’t give up on friendship.”

Cecilia smiled as she licked the last of the sugar from her chubby fingers.

“Yeah. I can keep being the bigger person.”

“For now,” Yakov said with a wink and half to himself as Cecilia was already turning to waddle out of the store.

Yakov admired the girl’s cheeriness.

In almost exact opposition to that cheeriness came waddling in an incredibly rotund ball of goth angst.

It was his cousin Mathilde.

Mathilde came wobbling through the door with her belly leading the way. The big blubbery belly sloshed in front of her, slapping onto her fat thighs with every labored step as she waddled into the store. The lower roll of her double belly spilled out from under the black top that she was wearing and over the waistband of her black leggings. Since that fateful Halloween party that turned her into this blubbery blob*, she had yet to figure out how to dress herself properly which was ironic seeing as she worked in a magical clothing store.

(*and you can see that transformation HERE.)

“My dear cousin, what brings you to my humble establishment?”

“I’m bored and on my lunch break.”

“I believe one of those things is true.”

“I’m bored and taking my second lunch break,” said Mathilde with her fingers tented as she salivated while looking at the various confections.

“That is much more believable.”

Mathilde continued to muse over the prospective treats that she might help herself to.

“Do you have anything here that’s not fattening?” she aksed as she rubbed her blubbery belly, absentmindedly massaging her lower roll.

“I run a confectionary, darling. Everything’s fattening.”

“I mean not magically fattening like those Halloween candies you gave me.”

“I warned you about those, and you were stupid enough to accidentally eat them.*”

(*Again, seen HERE.)

“Yes. And that’s why I’m being more careful.”

Yakov eyed the desserts and then picked out a small personal sized pumpkin pie.

“I haven’t enchanted this particular treat.”

Mathilde eagerly snatched the pie out of Yakov’s hands.

“Are you planning on paying for that?”

“Isn’t there a family discount?” asked Mathilde as she tried her best to play innocent. This was difficult to do because her heavy body, and most specifically her extremely fat hips and thighs made it difficult to get up onto the balls of her feet and swivel about in any kind of coquettish manner.

“Are you assuming that means free?”

“At least for your favorite cousin.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” said Yakov with a gently chastising shake of his head.

“I know.”

Mathilde pulled the pie out of its disposal tin and began cramming it into her mouth.

“Who was the fat chick I saw walking out of here?” she asked with her mouth full of pie and crumbs spilling down into her cleavage.

“I would call her chubby, and she was a woman I was helping out for the holidays.”

“Helping? Where’s the fun in that,” mumbled Mathilde as more crumbs sputtered from her mouth.

Those crumbs danced across her heavy chest, and Yakov couldn’t help but be amused by his formerly thin cousin’s current slobbishness.

“I know it’s not exactly your specialty, but sometimes it can be nice to actually help people instead of just punishing them.”

“Hey. We help people. We’ve done a few role reversal things. It’s been very kind, very helpful.”

“You of all people should know that helping doesn’t just mean making fat people thinner. That kind of thinking is very problematic.”

“Okay, don’t get heavy handed with me.”

“You’re right. Your hands are heavy enough.”

“Oooo see? There’s that cattiness I love,” laughed Mathilde before shoving the rest of the pie into her mouth and licking her fingers clean.

With her fingers clean, Mathilde couldn’t help but slide her fat hands back down to her big blubbery belly. Even though it had been several weeks, the thick lower roll still felt so alien to her. It was hard to believe now as she squeezed the fat that had been piled onto her incredibly obese body that she was once stereotypically slim. And as her eyes wandered around Yakov’s store and her mouth watered, she knew she would never be anywhere close to being slim again. Hell, she knew even her regular fat days were far behind her, and her behind was truly immense nowadays.

As Mathilde was playing with her belly fat and Yakov was tidying up another part of the store, the bell rang to signal a third person walking in. Unlike the usual customers that Yakov’s store tended to magically draw, this person was an older looking man. He was a tall gentleman in a bright red suit with white trim that showed off his slender but muscular frame. He looked like a late stage capitalist Santa Claus with a very full but well trimmed beard and slicked back white hair to match it. 

“Bonjour, Yakov! A pleasure to see you again, mon frere.”

“Pierre, you are early this year. It’s not even Thanksgiving.”

“A spirit of the holidays is never early and never late. He arrives exactly when he means to.”

“And with bungled Lord of the Rings references I see.”

“Yes. I have recently gotten into the extended editions.”

“You are very late to the party.”

“Well, I am an eternal entity and time has no meaning to me, so….”

Suddenly, Pierre’s eyes caught Mathilde’s.

“Ah, and who is this lovely lady?”

“This is my cousin, Mathilde. Be nice.”

“Of course,” said Pierre with a bow as he offered a hand to Mathilde.

“Enchanté. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Pierre Noel.”

Mathilde stared at the hand with a healthy amount of distrust.

“Like Père Noël?”

Pierre smiled and pulled at the lapels of his suit jacket.

“Qui qui. You can call me Daddy Christmas.”

“Eww. Nope. No. Never. Never say that to me again. Thank you.”

Yakov came around the counter again to intervene in the awkward situation, grandly shaking Pierre’s hand and then usher Mathilde to the side with an arm mostly around her wide waist.

“Pierre is an old friend who is here to help me out.”

“Is he really Santa Claus?” whispered Mathilde.

“No. In fact, I’m rather sure he’s some kind of demon. But he’s a useful fellow that I’d rather not get on the bad side of.”

Mathilde’s extra chins wobbled as she nodded and made her way back to Pierre.

“Charmed to meet!”

Pierre kissed the back of her chubby hand and then motioned toward the door.

“Now, let us get down to our usual business, yes.”

With a clap of his hands and a touch of his nose, the doorway to Yakov’s store shifted, gaining a remarkable amount of gold filigree that decorated the arch above his door, and at the top the new display culminated in two words written in fancy illuminated script. In green there was the word “Nice”, and in red there was the word “Naughty” with a golden arrow that sat between them.

“See?” asked Yakov to Mathilde as he gestured up to the new signage.

“Pierre’s enchantment will more easily allow me to sort out customers so that I can keep a steady flow coming during the busy season with minimal mishaps.”

“Are you sure he’s not the real Santa Claus?”

“Fairly certain. Of course… I’ve never met the real Santa Claus.”

Pierre smiled at his handiwork and then turned back to Yakov.

“And now, my payment if you please.”

“Certainly,” replied Yakov as he handed over two boxes that he had set aside for the occasion.

“Two order of Christmas cookies as per your usual.”

Mathilde watched the exchange quizzically as Pierre reached into the interior of his jacket and pulled out a large red satin sack which he proceeded to put the cookies into before stuffing the sack back into this interior jacket pocket.

“Why do you need Yakov’s Christmas cookies if you can do all of that?” she asked, motioning to both his jacket and the doorway.

Pierre grinned so wide that for the first time Mathilde could notice just how sharp his teeth were.

“My powers are seasonal, and Yakov’s confections help me have my fun while stretching things out a bit. And the second box is just because I love Christmas cookies. They are delicious.”

Pierre gave Yakov and Mathilde a friendly bow and a sinister smile.

“Now if you excuse me. I’m off to find my first victim for the season.”

“You mean vessel of karmic realignment?” asked Mathilde.

“No. Victim. But, sure. Call them what you wish to sleep at night.”

And with a wink of his eye and a tapping of the tip of his nose, Pierre turned and walked away, Christmas cookies in hand and eager to cause some mischief.

“He seems problematic,” said Mathilde.

“Yes,” agreed Yakov with a solemn nod of his head.

“That’s why I try to stay on his good side.”

Then they both went about their business while trying to pretend that their visit from Pierre Noel had never occurred.

It didn’t take Pierre long to find what he was looking for, or more specifically who he was looking for. It wasn’t that he was set on any one individual. No. It was a type he was looking for. Slim, sexy, vain, catty, ready for punishment. That’s what he wanted, to bring someone low, to replace their bloated ego with a bloated body.

It took just a wee bit of Christmas magic to peek into Claudia’s mind. That’s how Pierre got her name after all and a small look at her history, not that he needed it. He could already see by the way that she strutted around the mall shooting others judgmental glances while soaking in the appreciative looks her long lean body received, that she oozed an aura of vanity. Arrogance poured from her pores, and Pierre had the innate sense that she was on the naughty list.

But Pierre always liked to check twice.

And a little glance into Claudia’s past showed that she was indeed the kind of person Pierre was looking for, a person of great vanity and privileged who walked through the world like she owned it, the kind of person who didn’t just step on and over people to get what she wanted, but the kind of person who enjoyed doing so, who sought out opportunities to put down, degrade, and in every way possible make fun of others. She would call people names, spread nasty rumors, and even result to physical bullying when the times called for it. She was a despicable, skinny little grinch.

Pierre was going to give Claudia her just desserts.

He sauntered up to her unnoticed by the others all around him.

“Who are you?” she asked a bit surprised to see this bearded gentleman strolling up beside her.

“Not one for small talk.”

And with a snap of his fingers, the time around them seemed to stop, and Pierre produced from behind his back the nicely sized box.

“What is going on here?”

“I’m just spreading some holiday cheer.”

Another snap of the fingers, and Claudia’s outfit was changed from a pair of skinny jeans and a slim cut cardigan to a slutty Mrs. Claus dress that was cut well above her knees and showed off her cleavage quite nicely.

“You’re a very naughty girl,” whispered Pierre directly into her ear.

“Am I?” gasped Claudia. She was afraid but couldn’t help but quiver with a bit of forbidden interest in what might happen next.

“Oh yes, extremely. I’ve seen the way you’re walking around here.”

“I can’t help it. I’m better than all of these losers, so I get to be a little naughty. I love being mean.”

“Of course you do, and you deserved to be punished.”

He held up the cookies, now nicely on a plate and Claudia eyed them enthusiastically.

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. Go ahead. Indulge a little.”

The first cookie was shaped like a Christmas tree. It was delicious, and as she ate it she was unaware that her own figure was starting to widen out starting with her hips. That first cookie didn’t last very long, and the next was a frosted Frosty with royal icing that was sinfully delicious. The whole cookie was delightfully sweet and had a flavor that was both simple and decadent at the same time, and as she bit off a large piece of it, the cookie began to melt in her mouth. 

And her abs began to melt with it.

The slutty Mrs. Claus' outfit grew just a bit tighter at first bite of the cookie. Claudia felt the sugar slide down her throat and into her stomach, and that stomach started to slowly inch its way outward as it softened. With each new bite, her waistline widened further. What started out as a softer stomach became a tubby tummy paired with a newly minted set of love handles that started to strain the sides of the dress.

“Better be careful there, dear. You’re starting to get a bit of a belly. Might want to ease up on the snacks, you’re already starting to get a little tubby.”

But Claudia couldn’t stop. The cookie was too good, and as she continued her belly expanded even further as new pounds of fresh blubber found their way onto her previously trim frame. 

“That’s right. Keep eating like a good little piglet. Come on. You can’t get enough.”

Claudia knew Pierre was right. There was a part of her that tried to put the cookie down, but she just couldn’t. She kept taking bite after bite, and then once it was done she moved on to the next one, a bright green Christmas tree shaped cookie, and as she ate it her thighs really started to expand. They lost their tone and grew thick and flabby until she could feel them pressing together.

“Bye bye thigh gap, huh? Hello cellulite,” Pierre taunted as he gave her a pinch.

But Claudia just kept on eating. Her body rounded even further. It was like she was growing into a big fat sphere of blubbery. Her thighs thickened. Her gut grew in girth, and her backside grew broader while pushing outward as well. Her sexy outfit stretched to its limits and stayed on, but it also rode up further to expose the cellulite covered bottoms of Claudia’s blubber butt cheeks. Her breasts expanded further as well, becoming even more enormous and threatened to spill out of the top of her outfit. Her big blubbery breasts undulated with each new bite of a cookie.

Claudia’s face got comically round. Her angular facial features were completely obscured by fat. Her grew ridiculously chubby cheeks and a thick doughy double chin. Even her arms became flabby as she sprouted billowy bingo wings.

Her entire body started to wobble as Claudia kept eating cookie after cookie. Her obese body rocked back and forth and her breathing grew heavy. She was snorting like a pig as she ate perfectly content with sweet sugary treats that were continuously swelling her waistline. The dress she wore grew tighter. It rode higher. More of her flabby flesh was exposed.

Eventually, the weight became too much and the eager piggy rocked back and forth too far until she fell with her bare fat feet flying out in front of her and her big fat ass landing on the ground with a thud. She sat there, one strap of her dress now busted. Her dress shot up and let her big blubbery belly spilled out, completely exposed, onto her fat lap. The only part of the previously prim and proper woman that was still covered at all were her massive breasts since her dress now hung around them like a bra, but even then it was only hanging to her breasts because their sheer size stretched the material so much.

Claudia sat on the cold floor of the mall as the world slowly came back into focus. She had gone from a slim and sexy ice queen to a big blubbery pig, a completely exposed fat ass sitting there for people to come by and laugh at. She was stuck sitting there with a dopey look on her big fat face as she kept reach for a cookie that was no longer there.

What would happen to her?

Pierre didn’t care. There were more people in this mall to mess with, more naughty people to punish. So how would Claudia explain things to the world? How would her life as an obese blob go?

That was someone else’s problem. He was off to find his next victim.

He couldn’t resist walking up to her and giving her big blubbery belly one last squeeze though.

“You’re a fat girl now. So have a nice day, piggy. And enjoy life on the other side. Happy holidays, Fatso.”

"Fat Black Friday and Other Stories" (FULL FAT EDITION)

Here's the full edition of "Fat Black Friday and Other Stories" which features two stories that will not be included in the version I release on Deviant Art.

It comes out to over 7,500 words.

Enjoy!

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

Vanessa loved shopping, clothes shopping specifically. She loved the way she looked in clothes of all kinds, and picking out new outfits to show off her fit figure was her favorite pastime.

And that’s why Black Friday was her favorite holiday.

Vanessa didn’t need to shop for exclusive deals. She came from a life of privilege. She had it all, looks, money, confidence. And what that all added up to was a desire to constantly win, to be the best, and, most importantly, to take things away from other people. Black Friday offered all of that for her. There was the thrill of competition, the thrill of winning with a big deal, looking great in a fantastic outfit, and keeping those deals and outfits out of the hands of less deserving losers. This was her time to shine.

She also found she shone the brightest whenever she was around her cousin Claire. Claire was a lump fat girl and the same age as Vanessa which meant they had grown up together as a forced family connection. Honestly, that suited Vanessa just fine. It turned out that Claire was the perfect fat girl sidekick. Claire was always good for a laugh, often at her expense. She was the fat friend that made Vanessa look even more attractive by comparison. Her fatness helped remind Vanessa to stay in shape. And on Black Friday Claire served a special purpose.

Claire was too fat to be serious competition for Vanessa when it came to rushing around for deals. Her fat legs just couldn’t carry her fast enough, and she had trouble waddling long distances without having to stop and catch her breath. But her fat frame made her very useful for Vanessa. Claire served as the perfect wall. Like an offensive lineman, Claire was there to keep people out of Vanessa’s way as she rushed into the store. Claire was great for helping to block doors at doorbusters as a means of giving Vanessa a leg up on the competition. And then afterward, Vanessa would treat Claire to a victory ice cream which was both condescending and delicious.

Their dynamic was great until one fateful year.

Vanessa had already started getting under Claire’s skin the night before. At Thanksgiving dinner, Vanessa, who had had a few too many glasses of wine starting well before dinner, began to make multiple remarks about Claire’s eating habits, something that started even before the main meal did.

“All this snacking is why you’re so fat, Claire,” she said even as she took a bit of her own cheese and crackers.

“Too much beer has given you a great big beer belly,” she laughed as she polished off her third glass of wine.

“Look at all this lard, lard ass. I bet your greedy gut is ready for some good eating,” said cackled as she drunkenly grabbed hold of Claire’s blubbery belly and gave it a shake for all to see.

The last one brought about a chorus of uncomfortable laughter from the present members of the family, and it should have at least earned Vanessa some kind of chastisement. But Vanessa was the family princess. She was Miss Perfect, and that meant she was allowed to do whatever she wanted. What that meant for Claire was that her family members also silently agreed with what Vanessa was saying and even the ones who didn’t chuckle at Vanessa’s antics couldn’t help but give Claire judgmental side-eye every time she filled her plate with more food.

And, of course, Vanessa’s comments just increased during dinnertime.

“That’s a lot of food, fatty.”

“You’re really making a pig of yourself. Oink. Oink. Oink.”

“More dessert? Do you really need all of that, Fatso?”

Claire was feeling very defeated that early Black Friday morning as she struggled to get her fat body out of bed in time to trudge to the mall. Vanessa, despite all of the wine she had consumed, was chipper as always. She had already gone on a morning jog. It made Claire really eager to skip right to the ice cream.

“Let’s move it, Fatso. Waddle along now. The deals await!”

The day was rough. People were exceptionally nasty as they tried to shove past Claire. Sure, Vanessa got all of the deals that she wanted and decided to reward Claire with a jumbo banana split sundae AND a milkshake, but the truth was that she was tired. She was tired of being Vanessa’s sidekick, tired of watching Vanessa be the one winning all the deals, sprinting through life with easy and privilege, and most of all, she was tired of being stuck left behind treated like the slow fat one fed to the pack of zombies to let the faster one get away. 

From that day forward, Claire was determined to make a change. And change she did. Claire dedicated herself to fitness, to diet and exercise and to therapy to feel better about herself at any size. She worked on her physical fitness as well as her emotional maturity and self-confidence. She wasn’t going to be a sidekick, a punching bag. She was going to better herself in every way possible.

And part of bettering herself was bringing Vanessa down.

That plan started by shifting some of her bad habits to Vanessa. She encouraged Vanessa to eat more. As Claire began to diet, she pushed her plates toward her cousin, convincing her that she needed help with her diet and that Vanessa could eat whatever she wanted because of her fast metabolism. Then, with that thought triggered, it was easy to convince Vanessa to regularly indulge herself regardless of what Claire was eating. Desserts became a very regular staple of Vanessa’s new diet. She couldn’t have a meal without one… or two.

The next thing that Claire did was get to the gym more. Doing so meant that Vanessa was left bored without a sidekick more often which meant that Vanessa found herself turning toward food more often. And on the days where Claire got Vanessa to go together, Claire was in charge of the protein shakes, so Vanessa’s was always filled with fattening weight gain formula. After those gym sessions, Claire took Vanessa out for a well earned reward. Tying the idea of food to emotions, like needing a reward or needing some kind of pick me up was a great way to help Vanessa pile on the pounds.

As those pounds piled on, Vanessa began to grow increasingly stressed over the damage being done to her figure. Claire dealt with this by plying Vanessa with more food to make her feel better. She convinced her that Vanessa was just going through a phase, something that she would easily be able to pull herself out of. It was just water weight, nothing serious, a little bloating at her time of month, a few pounds she’d lose easily. Diets could always start tomorrow. Food was comforting. And once Vanessa became a stress eater, her fit figure was done for.

It became easy from that point on to keep Vanessa on her downward spiral. It turned out that since everything had always come so easy to Vanessa, she wasn’t prepared for any real adversity which meant that she was prone to giving up and giving in to her indulgences which meant once she got fat she kept getting fatter much more quickly. She didn’t know what to do, so she just gave up and ate more, dooming herself to a life of obesity.

Vanessa grew a big fat gut, a sagging belly that hung like an apron of fat over the waistband of her sweat pants, spilled out from under her shirts and sagged toward her fat thighs. It was a sack of fat, always greedy, always hungry for more fattening food that would only serve to make it larger. It was a mass of buttery blubber soft as a pillow and covered in stretch marks from having put on so much weight so fast. It was a large sloppy gut that served as the centerpiece of her humiliation. 

The fat legs that it came to rest on were thick as tree trunks and soft as dough. Her thunder thighs slapped and rubbed together as she walked, constantly chafing against each other and forcing her once elegant strut to be reduced to a ponderous waddle, slow and awkward. She had to lug a big fat ass around her as well, something fat and flabby that had replaced the pert ass cheeks she once proudly paraded about with.

It was quite a humiliating Thanksgiving that Vanessa waddled into after a very fattening year.

Claire got to the family dinner first dressed in a fabulous sweater dress and eager to receive lots of compliments. She was unused to being the family member who was the most fawned over at family gatherings, but she took to it quite nicely. She loved the attention and knew that she had earned it. It filled her with an additional boost of well earned confidence and delight.

What filled her with even more delight was the moment Vanessa came walking in.

Of course, walking in would be the incorrect term. No, Vanessa came waddling in, and even that didn’t quite describe the display she put in as her fat body had to squeeze itself through the doorway. Vanessa’s too small t-shirt, already stained from some kind of fast food stop that she had made on her way over, rode up over her blubbery belly which had to squish to get through the doorway because she had no choice but to enter sideways. Her belly was like a big soft pillow, overstuffed and worn out in a way that it spilled out from under her greasy shirt and over the waistband of her overtaxed sweatpants. Those pants were clearly stretched to their limit and had long since seen better days, but it was clear by her outfit that Vanessa was clinging onto whatever was left of her vanity and refusing to by larger clothes even if it greatly limited her options to the same sets of clothes stained with the shame of feasts she had messily indulged in over the year.

Vanessa eventually popped through the door like biscuit dough escaping the can. Her thighs shook, just like the rest of her redundantly flabby body, as she barged through the door and came waddling through the entrance hall and into the living room proper. The glamorous girl who used to strut about family gatherings as if she owned the place was long gone, replaced by a great big fat lumbering slob who was forced to waddle slow as the rest of the family turned to gawk at her.

Several awestruck relatives moved out of the way, partly because they had to because of the sheer amount of room Vanessa was taking up and partly because they were eager to see what Vanessa looked like from behind.

And Vanessa’s behind did not disappoint. Her broken down blubber butt was a flabby mess that was pushing on her sweatpants, and the tops of her chunky cheeks could be seen cresting over the top giving her a humiliatingly permanent plumber’s crack. Vanessa had long ago gotten used to people checking out her butt, but not like this. Now instead of admiring her firm behind, they were snickering at her flabby one. And it wasn’t just her butt that they could see. The shirt that was riding up to reveal Vanessa’s blubbery belly also gave a glimpse of her full blown muffin top complete with thick love handles and rolls of juicy back fat.

Vanessa’s breasts, once another part of her pride, had only grown slightly and had certainly grown softer and had a definite sag to them, but they were dwarfed by the big fat blubber gut that they now rested on. They were like sad ornaments adorning a shelf of fat. Her arms were marshmallowy pillows of fat as well with flabby bingo wings that shook with the slightest movement. Her beautiful face had grown piggish as well, bloated with fat that gave her a doughy double chin and thick jiggly jowls. The corners of her lips were clearly stained by ketchup, another clear sign that she had not been able to overcome her cravings on the way to Thanksgiving dinner and needed a snack.

That habit for snacking continued as Vanessa quickly waddled over to a plate of cheese and crackers and began to go absolutely hog wild on them, devouring crackers and leaving quite a mess behind including crumbs that tumbled into her cleavage and covered her shirt.

Jaws dropped at the sight of Vanessa double chin wobbling as if she were the turkey while she stuffed her face with whatever snacks were available to her before the main feast. For her part, Vanessa was more than just hungry. She was using the food to actively avoid having conversations with her family members, many of whom she had insulted in the past and were now clearly salivating at the chance to get their revenge on Vanessa. She did a good job of not having to do much talking by keeping her mouth constantly full of food, but that plan couldn’t possibly last forever.

Fittingly enough, it was Claire who made the first crack.

“Jeez, Vanessa. Maybe leave some snacks for the rest of us. Think you can manage not pigging out and eating all of them?”

“You think she’s going to fill up before we even get to turkey?” asked their chubby cousin Linda.

“Oh I doubt it,” mused Claire.

And then she reached over and grabbed Vanessa’s exposed belly while Vanessa was bent over the snack table.

“I think this Butterball still has plenty of room. Don’t you think so, Piggy?”

Then she gave Vanessa’s big blubbery gut a shake for all to see. Vanessa's face grew flush, something that added to her already piggish look, and she could only stammer in silence.

Claire continued to give Vanessa’s big belly a squeezing, kneading the fat like bread dough.

“This is really something, definitely heavier than mine was. You know, all of this snacking is why you’re so fat, Vanessa. All the beer drinking has given you a great big beer gut.”

Then she gave Vanessa a hard spank right in front of the family who found the whole thing hilarious.

“Look at all this lard, lard ass. I bet your greedy gut is ready for some good eating,” Claire cackled as she gave Vanessa’s gut another slap and shake.

Claire was also right.

Vanessa’s greedy gut was ready for some good eating.

All of the humiliation had sent Vanessa’s hunger into overdrive as she was now exceedingly desperate to stuff herself with some real comfort food. As she got ready to eat dinner, plenty of other relatives, now emboldened by Claire’s words and actions, felt the need to pepper her with comments, and jokes, and to poke and pinch her flab as they “admired” how much she had grown. She felt like a prized pig, and responded by absolutely pigging out at the table.

She made a real hog of herself as she piled her plate high with turkey, stuffing, potatoes and more. She smother everything in gravy which proceeded to splatter everywhere as she stuffed her fat face with food. She tore into everything with gusto, snorting as she ate so quickly that she barely had time to inhale properly. 

“You’re making a real pig of yourself. Oink. Oink. Oink,” cracked Claire.

But Vanessa didn’t care. She only cared about how much food she could stuff herself with.

And she could stuff herself with a lot of food.

She piled her plates with seconds, then thirds, and she still had room for dessert. She enjoyed multiple slices of pie and more than a few cookies.

“More dessert? Do you really need all of that, Fatso?” asked Claire.

The rest of the family just shook their heads and offered similar criticisms.

“She was so hot. It’s a real shame she let herself become a total pig.”

“Hottie to hog, who would have thought it?”

“She’s really grown up and out, huh? She’s BIG”

“Such a shame, a big FAT shame.”

And all these comments did was make Vanessa eat and eat and eat until she was too full to move and the family just sort of moved on without her.

“Rest now, Fatso. We’ve got a big day of shopping tomorrow, big girl. Me and your piggy ass are going to have so much fun tomorrow. I’ll even treat you to ice cream!” Claire crowed as she rubbed Vanessa’s overstuffed belly.

Vanessa groaned at Claire’s touch, but she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of ice cream.

The next morning was a special kind of hell, as most mornings had become for Vanessa at this point. Getting out of bed was not something she did easily at her new size thanks to gravity working so steadfastly with her blubbery bulk to keep her down. She found it especially tough on mornings after she ate herself into a food coma the night before. It was like she was stuck with a big fat food hangover. And, of course, this was particularly special. 

It was Black Friday. 

And the woman who used to jump out of bed and to be practically dragged out of it by the cousin she used to make fun of for being fat. Vanessa was cursing herself and Claire as she squeezed herself into yet another ill-fitting sweatsuit, something that had her fat bulging out from numerous places and which still bore the evidence of several food binges. 

“Looks like we’re gonna have to look for some new clothes for you while we’re there. That muffin top says it’s time to size up. You’ve outgrown your fat girl clothes, fat girl.”

Vanessa lumbered out of bed, cringing as she felt her fat slosh about unceremoniously. She waddled downstairs and had herself a big breakfast, as usual, and then crammed herself into the car next to Claire, something else that was not nearly as easy as it used to be for her. Claire’s car was sporty and cramped, but Claire insisted on taking it even if it meant that Vanessa’s thick meaty love handles pressed against the door and spilled over the middle consul. 

At the mall, Vanessa took up Claire’s old position. She was the blocker, the big fat wall. And she could feel the judgmental gaze of others as they took their positions. She could hear them snickering and calling her names in frustration like “cow”, “whale” and “wall of blubber”. People openly speculated, wondering why she was here looking for deals on clothes when it was clear “the nice ones wouldn’t fit her”.

“Maybe she’s hoping for big fat deals at the food court,” someone said which elicited a loud laugh from the people he was with.

When the doors finally opened, Vanessa did her job well. She couldn’t run worth a damn. She could barely waddle very far without needing to stop to catch her breath. But she was exceptionally good at just taking up space, she couldn’t help but do that well.

People frequently ran into her, and her bulk was not bothered. While other, leaner women might have been knocked over, people just bounced off of Vanessa’s blubber careening back into other people and creating quite the traffic jam, effortlessly giving Claire quite the head start to snag whatever deals she was most looking forward to. In a way, it made Vanessa feel proud and weirdly powerful, and in another way it made her feel extremely self-conscious and humiliated, especially when the people who had bounced off her blubber started cursing at her for being such a fat pig.

She was a fat pig. She knew it. There was no hiding it. All of the cruel words she had spent years saying to others, she now applied them all to herself. There was no room for positivity or an aim for understanding. All that Vanessa had now was her old prejudices which left a gaping hole within her that could only be filled by junk food.

After a few stores, a sweaty and out of breath Vanessa found herself leaning against an Auntie Anne’s food stall, finishing off her second pretzel and starting on small bucket of pretzel nuggets to tithe her over until lunch when Claire declared that it was finally time to take Vanessa to the fat girl clothing store to buy new, bigger, fat girl clothes. This was another exceptionally humiliating experience on top of a long list of humiliating experiences from the day. Claire began by forcing Vanessa to try on plus-sized clothing that she knew Vanessa had already grown out of. Then, after she finally found items that fit, Claire insisted that Vanessa get a few items that were significantly larger as well.

“It’s a good deal, and let’s be honest, your fat ass is going to grow into them.”

Vanessa hung her heavy head in shame because she knew that Claire was right.

When the bulk of the shopping was finally done, Vanessa shuffled her bulk over to the ice cream parlor for her promised double-sized banana split sundae.

“I think piggy’s earned her treat. Does piggy want some ice cream?”

Vanessa just nodded.

“Then say it.”

“Piggy wants her ice cream.”

And piggy got her ice cream and everything else that she had coming to her.

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“Candied Carrots”

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Candied carrots are delicious aren’t they? How could you not find them delicious? It’s pretty much impossible to take something, smother it in butter, sugar and other warm spices and not come out with something that is irresistible. I suppose you could make cookies with like shredded carrot in them? Like there’s carrot cake. I know there’s carrot cake. Carrot cake is obvious. But candied carrots, that’s my jam. You can make candied carrots with just carrots, a ton of butter, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, lots of brown sugar. You could throw in some fancy things like five spice powder, maybe some cardamom, saffron if you’ve got money. I like to throw in just a little bit of cayenne pepper for an extra kick. Measurements? Whatever your heart desires. Just throw it all in a slow cooker for four to six hours and forget about it. I even buy the baby carrots to save on cutting time.

The thing about candied carrots though is that they’re absolutely loaded with butter and sugar. I guess I already said that. But the point is that all that butter and sugar comes with a lot of calories, like a LOT. And if you go into the eating of candied carrots with the assumption that because they’re carrots they are at all healthy, you’re in for a real surprise. Plus, candied carrots are like a gateway drug to eating other unhealthy things. That hit of sweet, it makes you want more, so suddenly a little piece of pumpkin pie at the end of the meal becomes a big piece, then two, and always buried in whipped cream and often served with ice cream. And then why just settle for pumpkin pie? There are so many other desserts to sample, pecan pie, blueberry, apple, cookies of all kinds, anything one might have, if you’re eating candied carrots with dinner, you’re going to want more of it.

It’s not just dessert either. Have candied carrots at dinner time, and you’re likely to think that because you’re having something healthy you can indulge a bit more in other things. Have that extra helping of turkey- protein is good for you. Ladle on more mashed potatoes. Stuff your plate with stuffing and smother absolutely all of it in gravy. If some of that gravy were to touch the candied carrots? Well then, it suddenly becomes healthier.

That’s a lie.

The candied carrots are liars.

They are very fattening, and when you stuff your face with all the other food, dessert included, it’s very fattening.

Sylvia loved candied carrots. She was a shredded sorority sister who loved to show off, especially after she successfully dodged the Freshman 15. Once she got past that she felt like she was immune and could make fun of others with impunity, not that she wasn’t doing that already. She loved to put others down and constantly brag about her beauty and her metabolism.

But then the candied carrots did her in.

It started on Thanksgiving of course. Those sweet candied carrots laid their trap. She got to eating way more than she should have, and that was the first of many cheat days to come. 

And as the cheat days piled up, the pounds piled on.

Her stomach was the first part to give way to the fat. Rock hard abs are hard to get and even harder to maintain. They’re often the first to go when the pudge starts packing on, and her abs disappeared real quick thanks to those candied carrots. All that sugar she was eating caused her stomach to stretch and start to sag. She developed a root poly potbelly that rolled over the waistband of her pants. That roll of fat stretched all around her until it became a very full muffin top, guy, love handles, and all. 

All that butter made Sylvia’s thighs buttery too. The candied carrots made them chunky and covered them in cellulite. She soon lost any sense of being slim as her thighs started to slap together. And things didn’t stop with her thighs, of course. All the snacking she was doing was also starting to soften her ass quite a bit. She developed two thick, doughy cheeks, and sitting down became like sitting on two big, soft, squishy pillows wherever she sat. Sylvia didn’t mind the comfort, but she did mind the stares. 

The same kind of stares she used to give others.

Now Sylvia feels them every day, and she’s going to keep feeling them because she’s just going to keep getting fatter. It’s a spiral that she’s stuck in now with no turning back. Food is a comfort. Food makes her fat. Being fat makes her tired. Being tired means she’s too lazy to get ot the gym, too self-conscious too. No gym equals more weight gain. Pretty girl is pretty plump now and just going to get fatter. She’s got those big flabby bingo wings and a doughy double chin and everything else I’ve talked about, and what it all adds up to is a great big obese slob all because she gave in to the allure of candied carrots and believed their lies. Now she’s paying for her mistakes with all of the pounds she’s added.

And she’s not the only one.

Getting a little tubby there, aren’t you?

I can see you’ve fallen for my candied carrots recipe. No more abs for you. Muscles melting away. That belt around your waist is getting tighter. Soon you won’t need it. Soon you won’t be able to button your pants either. You’ll trust trade them in for sweats, nothing but nice stretchy clothing for you as you lounge about stuffing your fat face. 

Who needs fitness? You don’t. Goodbye classically hot body, hello fat one. Everyone’s enjoying talking about how much weight you’ve gained, but you don’t have time to care about that. You’ve got too much food to eat. 

Go ahead, have another bite. I’ve got plenty of candied carrots to spare. 

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

“Thanksgiving Leftovers?

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

Me?

I couldn’t have another bite. No. Not a one. 

I don’t care. I don’t care how delicious the stuffing is. I feel like the turkey right now. Yes. I know we still have so much food leftover. But that’s not my fault. You’re the one who cooked it all, and you made to much and you know it. You know I can’t possibly eat all of this stuffing… and potatoes… and turkey.

God, it really does look fantastic doesn’t it? Still smells so good, and if you put it on a sandwich. Just think about it, some perfect toasted, buttered bread and those cheesy mashed potatoes layered on with stuffing as well. Then that turkey, that succulent turkey, and a bit of cranberry sauce to brighten the whole thing up. Oh, oh that would be so, SO GOOD. My mouth is watering.

But no. No!

Look at what your cooking is doing to me.

I used to have abs, and now I’ve got this great big squishable gut, this tubby sack of fat that just kinda hangs over the waistband of my pants and rolls onto my lap, oozing fat, a blubbery belly, soft and squishy. You can feel it. I know you’ve felt how soft it is. 

And that lap, my lap is getting fatter by the day it seems. My thighs used to be really toned and muscular, strong but lithe and now they’re fat as hell. Just like my gut they’re so soft and squeezable. You can put your hands on them and feel them sink into flesh, my fat, flabby flesh. There’s cellulite and everything. My thighs are thick and wobbly and slap together when I walk. I’m going to be waddling soon. 

Waddling and carrying around this big fat ass of mine. 

Damn, I’m really carrying a lot more junk in the trunk these days, right? My ass used to be in really great shape. Maybe that’s a bit arrogant of me to say, but it’s the truth, well it was the truth. My butt used to be tight. And now there’s no tone left. It’s just mush, big flabby mush. I’ve got a fat flabby ass, a big fat blubbery ass. It’s heavy and it sags. If you give it a nice slap, which I know how much you love to do, it’ll jiggle for a long time. 

My chest feels so soft and heavy and saggy. I’ve got fat arms, and a big fat face too. It makes me feel like such a piggy when I see my reflection in the mirror and see this big thick, doughy double chin that I have wobbling there. I’m just so fat, and it’s all your fault. 

I just can’t help myself now because you made me like this. You kept feeding me. You kept me out of the gym. You’ve been so bad for my diet and my waistline and just…

Well, now I’m just so damn hungry. You’ve conditioned me so well. I’m just a big fat spoiled piggy now aren’t I? Just like you want me. I’m fat and helpless. I’m at your mercy. 

Alright, fine. Hand me that sandwich. Go ahead and stuff your piggy some more. I want it. I need it. You know I need it so bad, so get over here and stuff me. Oink. Oink. Stuff me real good.

But you better be buying me new pants for Christmas. 

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

“Stuffing”

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

Amy loved stuffing in every sense of the word. She was, by all accounts, a foodie. Hell, she was more than that. She was a feeder, the kind of person for whom eating food wasn’t just something she did for sustenance, or even just for fun. Eating food gave her intense sexual pleasure. 

Amy hadn’t always been this way. There was a time where she was slim and rather vain. She was the apple of her slim and rather vain family’s eye. Amy had been head cheerleader and prom queen. She was a real queen bee type, destined for ruthless leadership, perfectly able crush those around her with little more than a judgmental glance. 

She was the apple of her mother’s eye, the golden one. 

Then she got to college. 

Once she was out from under the watchful eyes of her mother and other family members, and once she discovered the joys of all you can eat buffet style dining at the campus dining hall, things began to change for Amy.

With an unchecked appetite, and a nearly unlimited amount of food, Amy soon discovered that pants were getting quite snug. It was hard to fit into skinny jeans when she wasn’t so skinny. This could have been a problem for Amy, or at least a warning of things to come, but instead, she just stopped worrying about wearing pants with buttons and instead switched the stretchier clothing. Clad in her new fat girl pants, the former cheerleader continued to make the most of her meal plan. 

That first Thanksgiving was a real shocker for Amy. She had already put on the freshman fifteen (and maybe a little extra. Amy didn’t really do scales.) in such a relatively short amount of time, and most of her family members hadn’t seen her since she went away to school. Her mother, up until that point, had tried to be in denial. But the shocked looks of her family members humiliated Amy’s mother far more than they humiliated Amy. 

For her part, Amy was too busy making a naughty little piglet of herself at the Thanksgiving table to notice the unabashed stares and snickers of her family members. It wasn’t until her mother, using those exact words after dinner, assured her of how much of a naughty little piglet she had been. And in that moment Amy realized a very important truth about her family’s reaction.

She didn’t care.

In fact, it was just that she didn’t care. The idea of her family being so repulsed by her actions, of feeling like she was being so incredibly taboo doing something that she had discovered such a deep love for, eating, made her tremble, but not with anxiety or fear, with pleasure. It shook her to her very core, and served as a real turning point in Amy’s life. If her family was so shocked and disgusted by her with just an extra fifteen to twenty pounds on her and with her appetite what it was, just imagine the look on their faces the next year. She made a pledge right then and there to stuff herself silly and really put on a spectacle for her family.

And she did just that.

Amy spent an entire year indulging, stuffing herself silly, growing fatter, much fatter, growing out of clothes and purposefully buying new ones that were a touch too small. She loved spilling out of her sweats. She loved the stares she got when she did so. Amy was used to having people stare at her, used to wearing skimpy clothes when she was slim and sexy and having people gawk. But now instead of cat calling her they often turned away quickly afterward, or if they did call out things it was often some very unkind words. Sometimes it was just animal sounds.

And Amy loved it all.

It all just encouraged Amy to delve deeper into her eating habits. She was so consumed by her deep need for humiliation that she kept consuming more and more food just to grow fatter and fatter. Bursting her clothes was one of her greatest thrills.

Come that next Thanksgiving, Amy was a great big lumber slob with a gut that rolled out from under her food stained sweatshirt and over the waistband of her greasy sweatpants. She was ready to savor the stares of her family almost as much as she was ready to savor the feast she planned for herself. 

She was not disappointed.

Amy’s family was aghast, and this time they didn’t limit themselves to rude stares and snickering side conversations. This time they came right out with their condemnations, some lamenting how Amy had “let herself go” others were openly ecstatic talking about how she had fallen and become so “fat and disgusting”. They talked openly about looking forward to Amy getting even fatter as if Amy was supposed to be ashamed about that. But Amy wasn’t ashamed.

She was aroused.

All of the condemnation only made Amy want to eat more. So she did. She stuffed herself like there was no tomorrow, until her already large gut was a big spherical ball. And then the next day she did it 

And that’s how Amy got to where she is now. She’s a big obese ball of blubber with thick thunder thighs that cause her to wobble and waddle about, and a titanic ass with two blubbery cheeks that bounce with each step and don’t stop moving when she does. Her arms are pillowy bingo wings; her breasts are huge bowling balls of fat, and her fat piggish face has jiggly jowls and multiple chins.

Thanksgiving is, of course, Amy’s favorite holiday. She loves all the food, but she loves stuffing in particular. It’s her favorite food because it’s extra delicious and it reminds her of her favorite activity. She loves the way her family still stares at her and judges her, though their more vocal jabs have subsided over the years as they’ve just gotten used to her size and now find making fun of her to be a bit tired and boring. That’s okay for Amy though. She gets her kicks elsewhere.

Amy is now a very successful fetish model, regularly doing mukbangs and showing off her gloriously fat and flabby body. People pay lots of money for the pleasure of saying degrading things to her, and Amy takes a lot of pleasure in that as well. Nothing makes her feel hotter than thinking about how thin she used to be, how fat she is now, and how much fatter she is going to get. She loves what all of the food is doing to her, what she’s doing to herself by eating so damn much. She loves to feel like a naughty piggy.

She is very fat and outrageously happy.

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

“No More Football on Thanksgiving”

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

Brad used to love football on Thanksgiving. Not just watching it, which he also did religiously but playing it. Touch football on Thanksgiving was a well loved Thanksgiving tradition with Brad’s family and Brad was the kind of show off who often took it way too seriously. He was known for being a bit of a bully, and his touches were really rough shoves and quite frankly almost tackles. Brad was seemingly obsessed with showing off just how tough, strong and fast he was.

And Brad was certainly a very athletic specimen. His whole life, he had found physical activity to be extremely easy, and fun. He was a jock through and through, and the chiseled physique that his heavy rotation of physical activities had earned him, combined with his strength and skill, had given him an incredible amount of unchecked arrogance. He loved to not just show off but to look down on others, especially guys who were physically weaker than him.

Brad was a classic bully. He was a “shove you in the locker” type of guy and was always handy with a few cruel names when the moment called for it. And while it should be no surprise to learn that Brad was the kind of guy who objectified and was very derogatory toward women, his favorite target was overweight men, or fat boys as he loved to call them.

He loved making fun of fat boys, using that term as a way to crystalize his feelings. It didn’t matter how old he got and who he was making fun of. Fat boys was the term Brad loved to use because it made his targets sound weaker, more pathetic, and he loved making people feel weak and pathetic.

Well, luckily, karma, and Brad’s metabolism eventually caught up with him.

Pizza and beer can only avoid sticking to a person’s abs for so long, and Brad loved pizza and beer, and chicken wings, and meatball parm heroes, and a whole host of other heavy meals that eventually made Brad himself rather heavy. As his metabolism slowed down, it wasn’t just that the weight started to pile on. It also meant that Brad found himself with less and less energy, and less energy meant less time at the gym. A few skipped workouts soon became a habit. And Brad’s arrogance meant he thought he could actually stay in shape without hitting the gym regularly.

Boy, was he wrong. Let’s just say that skipping the gym was a big fat mistake.

And so Brad got fat.

He didn’t just get fat. He became a great, big, lumbering obese slob. Brad’s abs, once thick, pronounced, and hard enough to grate cheese off of, disappeared and his trim torso became overwhelmed by a thick beer gut that hung over the waistband of any pants he tried to wear. It was pronounced spare tire that often found itself awkwardly getting in the way of things. It was snicker inducing whenever Brad would move and his big blubbery belly would knock over yet another thing. The unexpected should have been expected by that point, and yet Brad always had a stupid look of surprise on his big fat dumb face. On more than one occasion, his sudden shift in response to knocking something over would be the final straw that popped a few buttons over his shirt or the one on his overtaxed pants.

Brad’s belly was a blubbery, flabby mess that moved like it had a mind of its own. Shirts could not contain it. If it wasn’t bursting the buttons on a work shirt, then it was slipping out from under any t-shirts that Brad tried to wear. His gut was big and greedy and Brad found himself constantly needing to fill it with junk food. It wasn’t just that he had maintained his big jock appetite. Spending less time at the gym and more time at home meant that Brad was frequently bored and snacking, and once the pounds started to pile on, he found himself stress eating as well. Comfort food became a crutch, and the mighty Brad was reduced to a pathetic emotional overeater, a sad, flabby fat boy sitting on his couch and stuffing his fat face as he felt bad about himself. And while Brad’s blubbery belly bore the brunt of his bad diet, it was not the only part of him to have expanded.

His thick, muscular thighs grew thicker, but they also lost the muscle. They became weak flabby limbs whose fat smashed together, chafing and pressing until his legs forced him to widen his stance and gave the former jock who used to love and jump and sprint about with a pronounced and ponderous waddle, a slow, labored and awkward gait as his legs moved from side to side and his thick thunder thighs swished against each other.

The fat ass that Brad was now packing into his overtaxed sweatpants also kept him grounded. It was fat and flabby, two big soft squishy pillows for chunky ass cheeks. His blubber butt was outrageously bloated and frequently drew judgmental stares as it gave the former jock a permanent plumber’s crack.

Brad also grew a big bouncing pair of bitch tits. His man boobs sagged heavily onto his big blubbery belly and made him look like the kind of guy who might actually benefit from wearing a bra. They were squishy, saggy, and put a lot of strain on his fat back. In Brad’s mind, his moobs were by far the most humiliating part of his weight gain. It was normal enough to have a big fat belly. He could deal with that. Hell, he had half expected to develop some kind of dad bod when he got older. But having big floppy breasts, a heaving bosom that puts many women to shame? The jokes that came with that were too much to handle. If Brad had already stopped going to the gym, his big ol’ man titties and newfound fear of being seen shirtless ensured that he was never going back.

Even Brad’s arms grew thicker though far less muscular. He developed fat arms with flabby bingo wings and fat hands with chubby, greedy, greasy sausage fingers that were always grabbing at something fattening to stuff his face with.

That face, once home to a chiseled jawline, now had a thick, doughy double chin and jiggly jowls that gave the former jock a rather piggish appearance. He looked more boyish as well.

Brad was the fat boy now, the kind of guy he had always made fun of. He was fat, and weak and pathetic. He could barely lift things- other than the greasy food to his waiting maw- or move long distances without having to stop several times to breath. He was a big squishy loser in food stained clothes that barely fit him, fat and lazy and greedy. He was the perfect target for revenge from the people he used to bully. And football? Playing football, or anything was right out the window.

Brad still loved football on Thanksgiving, but now all he did was sit around, making a permanent indentation on the creaking couch as he stuffed himself with more servings of Thanksgiving dinner and dessert late into the evening all while his fat ass just kept getting fatter.

"Cheat Day" (Commission, WG, SLOB)

This story is a commissioned piece, commissioned by one of my patreon patrons. It contains some very heavy slob elements which you may not be into, or you may be VERY into it depending on your preferences. Feel free to skip this one.

If you don't want to skip this one and wish to continue reading further...

Enjoy!

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Jill was a fanatic when it came to exercise. She was an up at 5am for a run, two visits to the gym a day kind of girl. She loved the thrill of pushing her body to its limits, and she loved how far those limits were. She found running to be easy, jumping to be a breeze, lifting weights to be something she could do quite casually. She was a total gym bunny, lithe yet strong, the perfect figure exactly like she wanted it.

She was a competitive woman who loved putting others to shame. Jill was the kind of person who saw people next to her on the treadmill and loved to slowly crank her own speed up and watch them desperately try to keep up. She never needed a playlist. The groans and panting of others was music to her ears.

The disgruntled grunting of fat girls was her favorite song.

Fat girls often made Jill feel sad just as often as they made her feel angry. Jill had so thoroughly dedicated her life to physical fitness, derived so much joy from it, that the thought of anyone being out of shape filled her with an incredible mix of both pity and disdain. Of course, fat girls were also easy competition, so she loved showing off in front of them especially. Jill found fat girls to be greedy, and lazy and disgusting in general. While she might feel bad for them up to a point, ultimately she always thought of fat women as far inferior to herself. Of course Jill found anyone to be far inferior to her, but the fat women really took the cake, literally.

Jill made no attempt to hide her disdain for fat women. Her narrow face was keen to contort itself in front of anyone who was even remotely overweight, especially if she saw them eating. Large, disgusting meals, packed full of calories, that’s what Jill would see fat women feasting on and it filled her to the bone with anger and disgust.

“Like pigs to a trough,” she would think as she shot the women with her signature judgmental gaze. Sometimes she would even say a few very unkind words. Once, she had been so bold enough as to oink at one of them. She was with a group of friends who were all getting salads whens came across this helpless hambeast of a woman stuffing her fat face with a big greasy burger, a second one waiting to be next, and she just felt a sudden urge to really show off, to really shove her own beauty and this woman’s shameless gluttony back in her face.

It was delightful.

Jill was the kind of vain, hot woman who truly believed she was making a difference by making fun of fat women. She was certain that she was changing the world one fat woman at a time not just by shaming them, but by inspiring them to do better. She gave them the push they needed to commit to changing themselves, and she stood there as a model of what they should strive to become.

And Jill certainly did look like a model. She was the seemingly impossible combination of both incredibly firm and incredibly curvy. She was thickly built but tight with muscle. She was statuesque with an incredible figure. Jill had tremendously toned thighs, rich with muscle and able to carry her long distances at great speed with ease. Her arms were firm with wiry muscle leaving her quite capable of lifting things. Jill’s waist was trim and tight. She had well earned six pack abs that she was incredibly proud of and liked the show off any time she was able to. And she was equally proud of her breasts which were large and supple but rode high and perky. She was a stunner with a gorgeous face to go along with the rest of her body. Everyone always told her how gorgeous her face was.

But Jill’s favorite part of her body was by far her butt. Her butt was thick and firm and by every marker absolutely perfect. She loved working out her glutes and showing them off. While others may have been put off by the stares of so many people, Jill relished in it. She loved the way people turned their heads and stared at her phenomenal ass. She had worked hard to achieve it, and she wasn’t ashamed to show it. Her ass was tight and toned but thick enough to fill any dress, any pair of jeans, perfectly.

Jill believed very much in discipline and in keeping up her appearance as a slim and sexy supermodel, a glamorous goddess, a prim and proper princess. Honestly, the only thing she disliked about working out was the sweat it caused. She worked hard to avoid people seeing how hard she worked. 

And the only day she let herself relax was once a month-

Her cheat day. 

It was her secret time, a time to indulge, a time for greasy fast food and sweet fattening treats. She would secretly stuff herself with snacks without stopping to chastise herself. It was the time for Jill to really let herself go knowing that she wasn’t really letting herself go. One day couldn’t hurt. 

Right?

That’s what brought her to Fat ‘n’ Gassy Burger. 

“What a disgusting name,” she thought.

And yet it was the same name, so horrible, that made it so intriguing. It was definitely the kind of disgusting place that none of her friends would be hanging around to see walk into. She could sneak in and out with a greasy little feast for herself with nobody the wiser. They also looked to be incredibly cheap and were running a two for one special. 

It was the perfect cheat day restaurant. 

When she got inside she saw a bunch of people sitting around eating, tearing into greasy looking burgers. Jill was surprised by how many of these people seemed to physically fit. They were nowhere near as in shape and gorgeous as her, of course, but many of them were quite good looking and were clearly slumming it in a place like this.

Maybe it was a cheat day for them too. 

Jill eventually got to the counter and decided on getting the “Fat ‘n’ Gassy Double Cheeseburger.” And since she was on her cheat day and they were offering a two for one deal, Jill decided to order two of them. However, there must have been a bit of a communication issue once she got to the counter. The cashier must have thought that by saying she wanted two, Jill was ordering two to pay for and instead Jill found herself getting four double cheeseburgers. Not wanting to correct the woman and feeling like she might as well really enjoy her cheat day, Jill took her four burgers, along with the order of fries and the soda she had gotten and happily headed home. 

Once she got to her apartment, Jill had to admit that she found the smell of the burgers to be incredibly alluring. 

There was a part of her that told her not to do this, not to act like a greedy fat girl. 

But it was her cheat day. 

Jill  reached into the bag, which was sopping in grease, and pulled out the first of the four double cheeseburgers. She unwrapped it and took a deep sniff of its heavenly aroma. 

It smelt fattening. 

But Jill didn’t care. She lifted toward her lips so close that she was almost kissing it. Then she looked around her empty apartment with the door locked and the curtains drawn just to make sure that nobody was around to witness the sinful, gluttonous feast that she was about to indulge in. 

The first bite of the burger was incredible. In fact, it may have been the best bite of anything Jill had ever experienced in her life. And yet somehow the second bite tasted even better. She didn’t think it was possible but then she kept going and it was like she was being seduced by the burger. It was perfect. 

And then things started to go wrong. 

Jill felt a bit of a bubbling in her stomach, a tightness as her stomach stretched. She put her hands to her belly and felt an unusual amount of bloating. She was used to running her hands along her sexy abdominal muscles, but now they felt like they were there at all. I stomach felt like she was rubbing her slender fingers along a taut rubber ball, a tiny one, but a ball nonetheless. And then…

Pfffft

A small puff of gas escaped her perfectly perky butt.

“Oh my,” was all Jill could manage at that moment. She was human, so the act of passing gas was not completely alien to her but then-

PHHHHRRRRRBBBBBBBBBBTTTTT!!!!!!!

The second blast was like a trumpet, loud and thoroughly unladylike. And the stench from her fart was thick in the air as it crawled toward her nose.

“Disgusting!”

She couldn’t believe such a horrid blast of foul smelling gas could have come from her, and yet.

PPPHHHHHHBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT!!!!!!

Jill couldn’t help herself. The bloating had her rocking and releasing yet another tremendous fart from out her perfectly toned butt. She felt like a linebacker, a disgusting boy passing gas like some kind of foul smelling trucker. But she couldn’t help it. She knew she must have looked ridiculous with her perfect figure, as slim and sexy, gorgeous and glamorous as she was, passing gas like a human fart factory. But it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Another burst was building up inside her. 

She leaned forward and let it rip. 

PHHHHHHHBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTT!!!!

Another trumpeting fart blew out from between her perfectly toned cheeks. As she leaned forward and felt the noxious blast of gas escape her, her eyes fell directly in line with the cause of her gassiness, the delicious burger. 

And her mouth began to water yet again.

It was just so damn tempting. She knew she shouldn’t. She knew what it was doing to her insides. But as Jill sniffed the air again, the smell of her own flatulence was overtaken by the delicious smell of the burger. 

“I guess I’m the only one here. What’s a few more farts?” she thought as she let loose another small putter and grabbed at the burger. 

She took a tremendous bite of the burger and felt the grease running down her chin, but she didn't care. Even as her butt let loose another long whining fart, a warning of what was to come, Jill couldn’t bring herself top. She took a second bite, and a third. 

With every bite the burger grew smaller and Jill’s trim tummy grew bigger. Her belly began to fill with more gas and something more unexpected. 

Fat. 

She wouldn’t find out until much later, but the burgers that she was eating were made with a special formula super enhanced with calories, an insane amount of calories, more calories than one would have thought possible. And that supercharged formula would make her very fat very quickly. It affected a lot of people that night, but we’re not following those people now are we?

Jill didn’t know then how fat she was going to end up getting, but the burger was so good that who could say she would have stopped even if she did?

The burger was quickly polished off and another was fetched out of the bag. As Jill did so, she barely noticed the strange sensation of her bloated belly jiggling, swaying from left to right as she reached into the greasy bag. Jill loved her abs, but those abs were becoming quickly lost. As she tore into the second burger, the definition that she had was gone forever. The muscles that she had worked hard to earn were buried under fat. 

Her belly continued to grow with each new might. The blubber piled on and made her new belly roll outward. It stretched out her shirt and made it ride up to reveal more and more of the plump flesh underneath. The flesh kept coming. Her stomach kept stretching. What started out as a slightly bloated belly blossomed into a full blown gut, a gelatinous sack of fat greedily being filled with food.

Every time Jill, the fitness queen rapidly devolving into a flatulent slob, let out a ferocious fart, her bloated belly rescinded a little bit, but that shrinking became less and less as her flabby stomach kept filling with fat. 

Of course, her stomach wasn’t the only part of Jill that was growing fatter. 

For a brief moment, Jill stopped her eating to catch her breath, and in that brief moment her grease covered fingers grazed against her thighs. Had she not been so enthralled with the taste of the burger that was still dancing on her tongue, she may have noticed that her thighs were already getting significantly thicker… and softer. The thighs that she was so proud of for being thick but extremely muscular looked like they were going slack as the fat that filled them made her muscles look like they were melting as her thighs got fatter and flabbier.

Soon the mushy flab began to mash together as her thunder thighs started to meet in the middle forming a nice fat lap for her growing gut to sag down onto and rest upon. Still, her thickening thighs continued to go unnoticed as Jill went back to biting into her burger. Her thighs began to bounce as Jill happily took bite after greasy fattening bite. There was a real threat with the way her thighs were thickening that she would be forced to waddle about soon, no longer the classic beauty who could strut about confidently or run for miles while barely breaking a sweat. Her formerly toned thighs were already starting to dimple with cellulite.

Fat wasn’t just limiting itself to her thighs. The rest of her legs were growing fatter too. Her calves and ankles were swelling, and even her dainty feet and toes were starting to grow as the fat worked its way downward.

Back up top, Jill’s breasts began to swell subtly as well. They filled the cups of her bra completely and were starting to overwhelm them. As they did so, their new weight also pulled the bra down. Jill’s bra had been designed more for its look and feel than for support, something Jill hadn’t needed nearly as much of before now as her breasts continued to grow, undulating with fat. Now, as they started to sag heavily, the tops of her breasts also became marred by bright angry red stretch marks. 

As her breasts sagged, they soon began to rest on her growing belly, as the flabby mass rose up to meet them, bloated by fat and gas. 

PPHBBBBBBRRRRTTTTT!!!!!

Another massive fart escaped as Jill reached into the greasy bag for the third burger. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but notice that somehow this particular fart was deeper than the others, but she was too distracted to think about it further. If she had, she would have realized that her fart was sounding deeper and more resonant because her butt cheeks were growing fatter. 

Her pert butt cheeks were quickly losing any kind of perkiness. The firm muscle that had made her tight ass her favorite body part was being overwhelmed by new fat just like the rest of her muscles. Her buns of steel were becoming sponges of fat, thick and squishy pillows of blubber that stretched the seams of her pants as she leaned forward and took another big bite of burger. Each new bite brought new pounds to her butt which continued to expand. She could see the rich dimples of cellulite that were showing up on her freshly sagging cheeks, but she could feel the way her blubbery butt was pressing against the back of her pants, pushing it outward, stretching the fabric and causing the tops of her bloated butt cheeks to crest over the top of her like flabby moons over the horizon of her waistband. They bounced and jiggled as she ate and farted and with each bite the cycle continued.

She took a bite, she let out a fart, and the seams of her pants strained further as her ass and thighs grew thicker. Jill was quickly looking less like someone who had been an athlete and model her entire life and more like someone who was a lifelong couch potato, a big fat slob who had never given a thought to being as prim and proper and glamorous as Jill had, until a short while ago, been. And it seemed like with each bite she began to care less and less about the fattening transformation that was taking over her.

PHHHHHHHHHBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTT!!!!!

Another loud fart blew out of Jill’s formerly fit and now incredibly flabby ass. Each new fart seemed to grow louder as her ass grew fatter, but Jill barely seemed to heed them any mind at this point. She was too consumed by what she was consuming. Inside, there was a small voice in her head that was screaming at her to stop, warning her that something was horribly horribly wrong and that she needed to get control of herself before the damage was irreparable, but that voice was drowned out by the taste and smell of the fattening burger and the sound and smell of her obnoxious flatulence. Nothing could be heard over that.

So another bite was had and more grease and sauce and cheese dribbled down her chin and into her cleavage as her belly surged forward and her ass grew outward. She was turning into a big fat bloated big, filled with fat and gas and she couldn’t even fully realize the extent of her changes because she was too busy stuffing her face. 

As the last of the third burger’s bun was shoved into her mouth, Jill lifted a chunky leg to let out another loud fart and was barely able to get the food down before a tremendous unladylike burp escaped her mouth. In that moment, with her belly stuffed full of three burgers and her blubber butt still passing plenty of gas, Jill was able to pause and take stock of what was going on.

The first thing that she noticed was the smell. The room was thick with the smell of grease of flatulence. Then she looked at the floor and saw the wrappers she had discarded as part of her feast, the floor by where she was eating was a mess of crumbs and garbage quickly tossed aside. She caught a look at herself in the mirror and was shocked at what she saw. 

Her gorgeous face was stained in grease, cheese, sauce, and the sweat that broke on her brow from the exertion of her feast. It was an absolute mess, and worse still-

It was fat. Her formerly angelic face was decidedly fat with a thick doughy double chin that hung down and chubby cheeks that jiggled as she chewed. She looked bloated and piggish with this mess all over her face, and as she poked at her chubby cheeks, she could tell that her fingers hadn’t gotten chubby as well. She could fill her arms, newly coated with fat, jiggle as she threw her hands to her bloated belly. 

Her fingers sunk into the flabby flesh, staining her stretch marked skin with grease as she gave her greedy gut a squeeze. She felt the fat ooze through her fingers as she lifted up her hefty belly and gave it an angry shake. She tried desperately to push the alien fat back into her belly. But all that did was cause another fart to blast out of her blubber butt. 

“This is disgusting,” she moaned as the sour stench of her flatulence tickled her nose. 

“I’m acting like a complete pig and getting f-“

Jill’s hands suddenly flew from her bloated belly to her bloated rear where she began to knead the doughy fat that had turned her prized possession, her tight buns of steel into a mushy blubber butt that her chubby fingers could sink into. It was horrifying thinking about how all of her hard work had turned into the kind of squishy out of shape rear end that she would have happily laughed at others for having. 

And the stink coming out of it too!

She was sure to keep turning heads with a fat ass like this, first toward her with judgmental gazes and then away to try to escape the stench of her powerful farts. 

PPHHHHHHHHBBBBBBRTTTT!!!

“I have got to get that out of control. It’s so… stinky and… humiliating. Prom and proper. I’m suppose to be prim and proper and put together and-“

PHHHHHHBBBBBBRRRRRRRRTTTTTTT!!!!!

Jill felt her stomach groan and knew she had no choice. She had to let out another fart. As she doubled over in pain from the gurgling of gas inside her bloated body and then purposefully squeezed out the loudest longest fart that she could muster up in a bid to relieve the pressure and make herself feel better, she cursed herself for cheating on her diet and getting herself into this disgusting situation. She groaned along with her bloated gut and quickly squeezed out a few more bombs, causing even more sweat to break out on her brow. 

“I’m supposed to be slim and sexy and glamorous. I’m better than this. But look at me, and SMELL me! Holy shit. I reek. I’m so gross. I’m so fat, and flatulent, and-“

Suddenly her musing was cut off by another grumbling of her stomach, though this one was different than the kind of groan that had been signaling another bout of gas. 

“I’m so hungry.”

The normally in control Jill, looked back at the greasy bag of food with its fourth burger still calling her name. She could feel her fat thighs slapping together as she moved toward the bag. She chastised herself even as the smell of the burger had her mouth watering again. Her mouth hung agape, stuck in this moment of desire and fear, paralyzed even as a bit of drool ran down her multiple chins. 

“What’s one more at this point? Just extra gym time tomorrow. It’s a cheat day right?”

Another fart burst out in answer. 

“Uggg. I hate that,” she coughed. 

Still, Jill’s hand reached into the bag and pulled out the burger. 

“I see why they call it Fat and Gassy Burger,” she said and punctuated her statement with another toot. 

“But I guess I’ll just open a window.”

PHHHHHBBBBBBRRRRRRRRTTT!!!!!

At the same time as she let out another tremendous fart, Jill tore into her fourth double cheeseburger of the day. Grissle flew as she ripped into it, and the sauce ran down her chins as her teeth sunk into the deliciously fattening meat. 

But she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Even as she felt her clothes continuing to tighten, no matter how much she felt like a bloated flatulent cow, she was disgusted with herself, but she was too determined to finish off this fourth burger to stop. Everything else was put aside for now. She would make a pig of herself tonight, fart like a barn animal, and then get herself back into shape starting tomorrow. 

The burger was just far too good. 

And as she continued to eat things continued to change beyond just her body getting fatter, which it was. 

As her thighs grew thicker, and the fat pressed together even more than before, Jill felt the flesh pressing against flesh and a warmth started to spread between her legs. Every bite, every burst of gas, it made that sensation grow. It was a pleasure unlike anything Jill had ever known. For so many years, she had known nothing but control, discipline, but this unchecked hedonism, it was as if it had unlocked something in her, something primal. 

Each new bite brought a new wave of pleasure and a low moan from Jill as she swallowed more of the delicious and fattening food. She could feel her pants tightening as her butt expanded further, stretching the fabric tighter. And then-

PPPPBBBBBRRRRRFFFFFFT!!!!

Another tremendous fart drew from her the loudest moan yet. She couldn’t believe something so vile, so disgusting could make her feel so good.

She needed more!

Jill lifted her fat leg and timed her next fart with a massive bite of the burger. The sensation sent her shuddering and at the same time she felt the seam of her shorts burst. She was officially ripping out of her clothes, growing fatter than she had ever thought possible. 

And she wanted more. 

She needed more. 

She growled as she tore into the burger. She snorted like a pig as she stuffed herself, and while holding the last of the burger with one hand, she slid her other chubby hand past her bloated, fat and gas filled belly and right between her fat legs, oinking as she orgasmed. 

The room now smelled heavily of grease, flatulence, and passion. And as she shoved her greedy hands into the bag and stuffed handfuls after handfuls of fries, Jill knew she would need to get more food. This was nowhere near enough. 

As she sucked down her soda and prepared to leave her apartment, a part of Jill begged her to stay, to have some shame and salvage some dignity, to note be seen like this, like the pig that she had become. 

But the cravings were too intense. Ripped clothes and all, Jill let another fart rip and waddled off to her car. 

By the time Jill made it to Fat ‘n’ Gassy Burger, she had practically got boxed herself with her flatulence. Her car was ripe with an odor that had seeped into her stretch marked skin. But she didn’t care. She was here, ready for what she had come for, ready to feast again. 

Inside, Fat ‘n’ Gassy Burger was a madhouse, an absolute zoo filled with customers with the same exact cravings as Jill. Their widening waistlines were ripping pants and popping buttons. Fat bellies and fatter asses were everywhere. She could hear the groans of gas filled stomachs along with the groans of the chairs that those blubber butts were sitting on. Many of these people had been fit just this morning. Now they were hardly fitting into their clothes. They had gone from the envy of many to helpless, piggish slobs, stuffing their fat faces and farting up a storm. 

Jill ignored them all as she made her way to the counter and ordered another sack of burgers. She didn’t even know how many she had ordered, she just sat right down and started tearing into them. 

She couldn’t possibly keep track of how fat she got after that. The only way to measure her progress was the way her clothes ripped off of her. 

Her shorts were the first to go. They couldn’t take anymore of her titanic as and tree trunk like thunder thighs. The rips widened until the structural integrity of the shorts gave way completely. Jill may have still been wearing underwear, but it was impossible to tell thanks to the fold of fat that obscured them from every angle. 

Jill’s bloated belly and the rest of her fattening torso eventually caused her shirt to give way too. Even her flabby arms grew thick enough to rip the sleeves. Her mammoth breasts burst her bra, and all of her fat was free to fly about as she continued to stuff herself with the delicious feast. 

Anyone sitting behind Jill could watch her big flabby ass cheeks shudder and slap together as she farted, but they were all too engrossed in their own fattening meals to notice. 

Fat ‘n’ Gassy Burger was a symphony of button popping and flatulence, and Jill was just another member of the chorus. 

If she could have seen herself looking like this she would have laughed, an hour ago experiencing this she would have screamed. But now she was resigned. She was a fit girl no longer and a fatty forever. 

She was just a fat flatulent slob and doomed to be such for the rest of her life. She knew it and all that thought did was make her eat even more. 

It was her cheat day after all. 

"Fat Black Friday and Other Stories" Part 1

I had a fantastic holiday weekend with family. Fantastic holiday weekends with family are not great for writing this kind of stuff, but I wanted to give you something.

Enjoy!

Vanessa loved shopping, clothes shopping specifically. She loved the way she looked in clothes of all kinds, and picking out new outfits to show off her fit figure was her favorite pastime.

And that’s why Black Friday was her favorite holiday.

Vanessa didn’t need to shop for exclusive deals. She came from a life of privilege. She had it all, looks, money, confidence. And what that all added up to was a desire to constantly win, to be the best, and, most importantly, to take things away from other people. Black Friday offered all of that for her. There was the thrill of competition, the thrill of winning with a big deal, looking great in a fantastic outfit, and keeping those deals and outfits out of the hands of less deserving losers. This was her time to shine.

She also found she shone the brightest whenever she was around her cousin Claire. Claire was a lump fat girl and the same age as Vanessa which meant they had grown up together as a forced family connection. Honestly, that suited Vanessa just fine. It turned out that Claire was the perfect fat girl sidekick. Claire was always good for a laugh, often at her expense. She was the fat friend that made Vanessa look even more attractive by comparison. Her fatness helped remind Vanessa to stay in shape. And on Black Friday Claire served a special purpose.

Claire was too fat to be serious competition for Vanessa when it came to rushing around for deals. Her fat legs just couldn’t carry her fast enough, and she had trouble waddling long distances without having to stop and catch her breath. But her fat frame made her very useful for Vanessa. Claire served as the perfect wall. Like an offensive lineman, Claire was there to keep people out of Vanessa’s way as she rushed into the store. Claire was great for helping to block doors at doorbusters as a means of giving Vanessa a leg up on the competition. And then afterward, Vanessa would treat Claire to a victory ice cream which was both condescending and delicious.

There dynamic was great until one fateful year.

Vanessa had already started getting under Claire’s skin the night before. At Thanksgiving dinner, Vanessa, who had had a few to many glasses of wine starting well before dinner, began make multiple remarks about Claire’s eating habits, something that started even before the main meal did.

“All this snacking is why you’re so fat, Claire,” she said even as she took a bit of her own cheese and crackers.

“Too much beer has given you a great big beer belly,” she laughed as she polished off her third glass of wine.

“Look at all this lard, lard ass. I bet your greedy gut is ready for some good eating,” said cackled as she drunkenly grabbed hold of Claire’s blubbery belly and gave it a shake for all to see.

The last one brought about a chorus of uncomfortable laughter from the present members of the family, and it should have at least earned Vanessa some kind of chastisement. But Vanessa was the family princess. She was Miss Perfect, and that meant she was allowed to do whatever she wanted. What that meant for Claire was that her family members also silently agreed with what Vanessa was saying and even the ones who didn’t chuckle at Vanessa’s antics couldn’t help but give Claire judgmental side eye everytime she filled her plate with more food.

And, of course, Vanessa’s comments just increased during dinnertime.

“That’s a lot of food, fatty.”

“You’re really making a pig of yourself. Oink. Oink. Oink.”

“More dessert? Do you really need all of that, Fatso?”

Claire was feeling very defeated that early Black Friday morning as she struggled to get her fat body out of bed in time to trudge to the mall. Vanessa, despite all of the wine she had consumed, was chipper as always. She had already gone on a morning jog. It made Claire really eager to skip right to the ice cream.

“Let’s move it, Fatso. Waddle along now. The deals await!”

The day was rough. People were exceptionally nasty as they tried to shove past Claire. Sure, Vanessa got all of the deals that she wanted and decided to reward Claire with a jumbo banana split sundae AND a milkshake, but the truth was that she was tired. She was tired of being Vanessa’s sidekick, tired of watching Vanessa be the one winning all the deals, sprinting through life with easy and privlegae, and most of all, she was tired of being stuck left behind treated like the slow fat one fed to the pack of zombies to let the faster one get away. 

From that day forward, Claire was determined to make a change. And change she did. Claire dedicated herself to fitness, to diet and exercise and to therapy to feel better about herself at any size. She worked on her physical fitness as well as her emotional maturity and self-confidence. She wasn’t going to be a sidekick, a punching bag. She was going to better herself in every way possible.

And part of bettering herself was bringing Vanessa down.

That plan started by shifting some of her bad habits to Vanessa. She encouraged Vanessa to eat more. As Claire began to diet, she pushed her plates toward her cousin, convincing her that she needed help with her diet and that Vanessa could eat whatever she wanted because of her fast metabolism. Then, with that thought triggered, it was easy to convince Vanessa to regularly indulge herself regardless of what Claire was eating. Desserts became a very regular staple of Vanessa’s new diet. She couldn’t have a meal without one… or two.

The next thing that Claire did was get to the gym more. Doing so meant that Vanessa was left bored without a sidekick more often which meant that Vanessa found herself turning toward food more often. And on the days where Claire got Vanessa to go together, Claire was in charge of the protein shakes, so Vanessa’s was always filled with fattening weight gain formula. After those gym sessions, Claire took Vanessa out for a well earned reward. Tying the idea of food to emotions, like needing a reward or needing some kind of pick me up was a great way to help Vanessa pile on the pounds.

As those pounds piled on, Vanessa began to grow increasingly stressed over the damage being done to her figure. Claire dealt with this by plying Vanessa with more food to make her feel better. She convinced her that Vanessa was just going through a phase, something that she would easily be able to pull herself out of. It was just water weight, nothing serious, a little bloating at her time of month, a few pounds she’d lose easily. Diets could always start tomorrow. Food was comforting. And once Vanessa became a stress eater, her fit figure was done for.

It became easy from that point on to keep Vanessa on her downward spiral. It turned out that since everything had always come so easy to Vanessa, she wasn’t prepared for any real adversity which meant that she was prone to giving up and giving in to her indulgences which meant once she got fat she kept getting fatter much more quickly. She didn’t know what to do, so she just gave up and ate more, dooming herself to a life of obesity.

Vanessa grew a big fat gut, a sagging belly that hung like an apron of fat over the waistband of her sweat pants, spilled out from under her shirts and sagged toward her fat thighs. It was a sack of fat, always greedy, always hungry for more fattening food that would only serve to make it larger. It was a mass of buttery blubber soft as a pillow and covered in stretch marks from having put on so much weight so fast. It was a large sloppy gut that served as the centerpiece of her humiliation. 

The fat legs that it came to rest on were thick as tree trunks and soft as dough. Her thunder thighs slapped and rubbed together as she walked, constantly chafing against each other and forcing her once elegant strut to be reduced to a ponderous waddle, slow and awkward. She had to lug a big fat ass around her as well, something fat and flabby that had replaced the pert ass cheeks she once proudly paraded about with.

It was quite a humiliating Thanksgiving that Vanessa waddled into after a very fattening year.

TEASER: "Fattening the Naughty and the Nice"

Hey all,

I just wanted to share a bit of what I'm working to show that I am indeed working on things for this week.

Currently, I'm midway through two projects, "Fattening the Naughty and the Nice" and "Fat Black Friday and Other Stories".

Here is a teaser for "Fattening the Naughty and the Nice":

Cecilia was a spritely woman, short in stature and slender in frame, and the sugar cookie that she bit into quickly changed that.

The sugar crystals danced along her tongue as she bit into the cookie and savored its pleasure. That pleasure slid down her throat as a warm tingling sensation that filled her entire body from head down to her toes, toes that soon began to plump up every so slightly. Her perfect ballerina feet began to plump up, the first part of her to stop looking so petite as the pounds began to pile on.

Her feet had been delicate, dainty even, perfect feet for a spritely woman such as her to be strutting and springing about on. But as she took another bite of her sugar cookie, she began to look a lot more grounded as her feet continued to grow, and the fat that filled them soon worked its way up into her ankles which began to swell. Cecilia didn’t quite get to the point of developing cankles, but anyone looking at the size and shape of her lower legs would not be laughed at for making the prediction that cankles were a strong possibility in her future. Of course, the evidence in the argument for cankles continued to build as her thighs started to thicken.

Those thighs had been like twigs. While they technically had muscle tone, that tone was mostly an illusion created by the fact that her legs lacked much in the way of real weight at all. And that was swiftly changing with each new nibble of the sugar cookie. Cecilia’s thighs quickly lost any muscle tone they appeared to have as they grew plumper with each new found. The flesh gave way to fat and began to quiver as it filled her up. Her new thunder thighs trembled with fat that slapped together and became dimpled with cellulite. The springiness of her legs was replaced by the sponginess of the flesh that now took over her thighs, and the only spring was the way her flab could be pressed into and then spring back into shape.

Cecilia’s small pert butt cheeks became more generous in size and then unrecognizable from the tight cheeks they once were. By the time she finished the first sugar cookie and started on a second, her butt cheeks were incredibly flabby, soft and saggy and resting on her fatter thighs. Just like her thighs, her butt cheeks became dimpled with cellulite, and her thighs and butt grew so much that her leggings were stretched thin and sheer enough to show off those dimples. Her butt quivered with every little motion, bobbing with a mind of its own. Her blubbery buns kept bouncing as she began to eat sugar cookies with even greater speed and her body grew accordingly.

She walked into the store with an incredibly trim waist, something that couldn’t survive the pounds that were piling on. Her waist began to bow outward. Cecilia’s stomach had once had the appearance of tone, a flatness due to lack of eating. And now, as she stuffed more cookies into her face, the crumbs falling like snowflakes to the floor, she found the trim tummy of hers to be rounding out, bulging forward, jiggling as it grew. At its sides rose, like two loaves of bread, doughy love handles to compliment her pudgy pot belly and complete the muffin top that she had grown. There was no sign of thinness to be had, just a very pinchable pot belly, a jiggling little gut greedy for more cookies.

And as those cookies kept finding their way into Cecilia's mouth, she kept growing chubbier.

----

An extended teaser for "Fattening the Naughty and the Nice" as well as a teaser for "Fat Black Friday and Other Stories" are available on my Discord for Talking BS members. You can upgrade your membership HERE.

"Fat Trimmings": Volume 37

Back from hiatus, baby! Here's 7 fat fiction stories totally over 7,700 words of fattening content!

Enjoy!

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

“Can’t Keep It Off”

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

She couldn’t stop the fat.

As much as she tried, diets exercise, it didn’t seem to matter. The tireless march of time, and her constant craving, meant that the calories that she consumed kept turning into fat. Pounds piled on, soft yielding pounds of flesh plopped onto her now redundantly flabby body. 

It wasn’t always like this. 

She used to be fit. She used to have one of those figures she loved to flaunt, sexy six pack abs that she used to show off. 

No she had a keg, a humiliating gut. And even though she dreaded the idea of people looking at it, her spongy stomach demanded to be seen. Unlike the rest of her, her fat gut couldn’t give up being the center of attention. It strained against the seams of any dress she tried to wear, and made those dresses look like sausage casings. And if she wore a shirt, her flabby pot belly would always make it ride up exposing flabby flesh for all to see. She had a big jiggly muffin top perfect for people to laugh at. 

She used to be the one who laughed. 

She used to be the one who shot others judgmental glares and said mean things behind their backs to their fat faces. When she was feeling particularly bold, she would shake a tummy, pinch a love handle, or tap some thunder thighs.

Now she’s the one on the receiving end of all of that. People love to point out how much her clothes don’t fit. They love to point out how much weight she’s gained, how much softer she is. They say all sorts of things:

“You’ve really let yourself go.”

“You used to be so hot? What happened?”

“What a shame. You really larded up.”

“I didn’t think you’d get fat. But… wow. You’ve really gotten fat. I mean FAT.”

“Lay off the snacks. You’ve really porked up.”

And then there would be the pinching. She found herself being pinched constantly. If there was anyone she had ever pinched or poked or patted in anyway and they saw her now, it was inevitable. They would giggle as they took their revenge, pinching her love handles, shaking her blubbery tummy and tapping her thunder thighs as they commented on how soft and out of shape she had gotten, how much weight she had gained, how fat she was.

It might have been the thigh tapping that got to her the most. She used to have such lean but powerful thighs, and now they were flabby and weak. She had thick, cellulite covered thunder thighs, and they were large enough to slap together as she walked, constantly threatening her with being forced to waddle. She knew those days weren’t far off.

She knew the pounds weren’t going to stop.

They were going to keep filling her stomach, pushing it out into a proper spare tire, turning it into a sagging double belly, an apron of fat that flopped onto her flabby thunder thighs which would become thick as tree trunks. And her once perfectly tight ass which had already turned into chunky cellulite covered cheeks would continue to balloon into a truly wide load of flabby fat, bouncing blubbery butt cheeks with no muscle tone and a mind of their own, jiggling furiously with every labored step.

She felt like a hog, but it wasn’t like she was going to stop eating any time soon. And her gym days were numbered as well. The gym was too humiliating now that she was so fat and flabby. When she was fit, she used to love it. She used to love flaunting her figure and her fitness and turning heads. Now it was just another place for her fat ass to be mocked the way she used to mock others. Besides, it’s not like the gym was helping anyway. She was just fat and getting fatter by the day. She couldn’t keep it off. There was no longer any point in trying.

It was time to accept who she was. She wasn’t a fit girl anymore. She was a big fat lazy couch potato, and the sooner she accepted that, the sooner she could get to eating another tub of ice cream.

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“Licking Up Lard”

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The lard that didn’t make it from the spoon into her greedy mouth, slid down her multiple chins and landed with a satisfying plop as a glob that quickly trickled into her canyon of cleavage.

How had she let herself get this way?

How had she given in so completely?

It started with small indulgences. She had always been so fit, so prim and proper and perfect. Her entire life had been about holding herself to a higher standard than others, looking down on them as she admired herself, and yet….

Indulging had felt so good. It felt so bad too. She knew she shouldn’t have done it, that she should have kept counting calories. But she felt like she was in total control. She could afford a cheat day now and then. She did it all in secret at first too. Her friends couldn’t know that the slim and sexy woman who seldom ate anything but salads was a secret snacker, a fat girl inside a fit one’s body who would secret away to fast food spots deep in the night and set herself up in a shadowy corner where she could stuff herself like the naughty little piglet she wanted to be.

And those late night feasts started to fatten her up. The secret snacking caused the pounds to sneak onto her slender waist. Soon enough, she couldn’t hide the fact that she was gaining weight from her friends. Once she popped the girdle she had started wearing in front of everyone, people could tell the truth.

She was getting fat.

Once they knew that, there was no stopping it. She could have used it as a wake up call, a signal to really get serious about diet and exercise, but instead she started to spiral further into decadence because, as she stuffed her face with cookies and cake and chased it all with tubs of ice cream, she knew the simple truth.

She wanted indulgence.

She wanted to be fat.

She wanted to get fatter.

And that’s just what she did. After the girdle broke, it was like the damn burst on her weight gain.

Once her friends knew her secrets, she no longer had to hide her indulgences which means she began to eat far more freely in front of them. She would still keep her secret late night stuffing sessions going, but those would become even more intense. In public, she was known for letting go, for eating whatever she wanted. She would order multiple items, eat them all, and still have room to sample what everyone else was trying. She no longer limited herself and had become a two desserts kind of girl. Choices bored her. Why choose when she could simply have everything she wanted?

And she wanted a lot.

Pasta, sausage and peppers, sweet and savoring things, it didn’t matter. She wanted it all. French, Chinese, Indian, Mexican, Brazilian, North African, Italian, and more, so much more, she was a consumer of cultures. She sucked down hot dogs like a Hoover and guzzled down gallons of ice cream. She was turning herself into a real glutton, a total pig.

She went from being the slim and sexy queen bee to the fat friend very quickly. And as she continued to expand, and her piggishness became more apparent, those same catty friends who took joy in humiliating her started to grow bored and distant. But she didn’t care. She wanted more.

The hot stares of others had fallen upon her, judging her, and she couldn’t get enough. It was a thrill unlike any other. “Ruining” herself had become an intensely intimate process. At first she had just wanted to eat, to indulge without consequence. But now she wanted something far greater.

She wanted to get fatter.

She wanted to feel her body growing, to feel the flab oozing through her fingers, to rub her overstuffed belly and groan, barely able to move after stuffing herself silly. She craved attention, positive and negative. She wanted people to look at her, to comment on her girth, her appetite, how far she had fallen, and how much fatter she was still going to get.

So she got herself a high quality webcam, accounts on OnlyFans, Clips4Sale, and Curvage, and went to town. She stocked up on plenty of food and shot video after video. Her favorites were the ones where she would pose with pictures of her old slim and sexy self in a bikini and talk about how hot and mean she used to be as she shook her belly and slapped her ass for the camera. Then she would stuff herself silly and invite people to make fun of her as she ate and made oinking noises.

And as she licked another spoonful full of lard like it was a lollipop, she smiled and new the truth.

She was one happy piggy.

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“I was Possessed By a Gluttonous Ghost”

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Look, I didn’t expect to get possessed by a ghost that would make me stuff myself until I became a woman who weighs over six hundred pounds and is struggling with mobility issues.

Who does?

I used to be a real sexy babe, and hey, I know plenty of people would still find my fat ass super sexy. I respect that. I’m glad for that, honestly, otherwise I would be stuck being super fat and bone dry. But I think I look like a hog. Perhaps hog is too light of a word, and I’m anything but light nowadays. I used to be a very slim and sexy woman, hot as they come, but these days I’m a blob.

All thanks to that ghost.

So how did I get this way? How did I go from fit to outrageously fat?

I’ll tell you.

Me… well I’ve always been a kind of arrogant person. Okay, I’ve always been a really arrogant person. Ever since high school, I’ve always been a mean girl. And past there it only ever got worse. I’ve always had a fit figure to die for, well… when I say always I mean up until right up until this ghost encounter- which I’m getting too. I promise. Please, give me some time to talk about how freakin’ hot I used to be first. My memories of how slim and sexy and confident I used to be are all I have left right now. I’m never going to be thin and toned again. Hell, I’m unlike to go anywhere without waddling again, and I’m much more likely to be needing a mobility scooter to cart my fat ass around soon, so- again give me some freakin’ grace here.

I used to be so smokin’ freakin’ hot, like otherworldly. And I’ve always been a bit of a tomboy, but I had plenty of guys and gals who liked that about me too. They would drool over me, and I loved to watch them do it. I had a perfect figure with a full but tight ass, thick but muscular thighs, and a slim waist with a toned tummy. I even had great breasts, a beautiful bosom perfect for any kind of top. I looked great in leather pants and a halter especially. It was like my go to look, especially when I was ghost hunting.

Yeah. Ever since I was little, I loved the idea of hunting ghosts. I know a lot of people gave the all lady reboot of Ghostbusters a lot of crap, but I loved that shit. And I’ve always been into ghost hunting reality tv shows.

So I figured… I’m smoking hot, like drop dead gorgeous, way hotter than anyone else I know. People love to look at me, and I love having them look at me. I bet you people would look at me- watch me- as I hunt some freakin’ ghosts. Then I’d even get some like goth modeling gigs on the side, people loved to have me model things, and I’d make a ton of money doing what I’m passionate about. Then I’d be able to flaunt that money along with my perfect figure. It was perfect.

Then I met that freakin’ gluttonous ghost.

And he made me eat. And eat a lot. Until, well look at me, like I said I’m a real porker, an oinker, a pig girl, an absolutely obese sow, a blob, a- well I’ve got a lot of names that I could call myself because I haven’t exactly let go of my old prejudices and embraced the whole body positivity thing yet.

Anyway, you wanna know the details of how I went from a hottie to a freakin’ fatty, right?

I’ll tell you.

I had a few ghost hunting adventures under my belt (back when wearing a belt was still a thing I could do), and I was really feeling myself. So I went to this place that I had been warned about. People had had some real spooky experiences there, mostly involving food. And, apparently, the people who spent the night there ended up gaining a lot of weight afterward. I figured it was because they were just destined to be lazy fatasses, but it was a great chance for me to really show off my figure and ability to “beat the curse”.

It turns out there was no curse, just a massive freakin’ ghost who loves to make people fat.

And I guess because I was super arrogant or whatever, the ghost took special interest in me and possessed me. Then he made me eat, and eat, and eat. Like, I ate so freakin’ much. It was insane. The whole time I could feel everything but fullness. I tasted all the delicious food that my face was getting stuffed with. There were dishes of every kind. The kind of food didn’t matter to the ghost as long as there was a lot of it. I was stuffed like a sausage and soon I started to look like one.

My trim tummy blew up into a big blubbery gut that the ghost liked to make me wobble with my now chubby hands. My thighs lost all of their tone and became thick flabby thunder thighs that widened my stance I was stuck waddling about. Boy, I sure do miss waddling now. These days I can barely do it. I mostly use my motor scooter to get around, even around the house. I used to at least be able to get to the kitchen and back to the couch without it, but now I’m just too freakin’ fat.

My breasts got huge too, but now they’re just these saggy freakin’ boulders, man. They’re killing my fat back all the time. Oh, and my ass, my previously perfect ass, well sitting on your ass all day eating makes that ass super fat and super soft. I’ve got an enormous ass now, a real big broken down dumper, fat as hell and covered in cellulite just like my thighs. Damn, I can barely lug this thing around anymore.

Anyway, I still do ghost shows, but I don’t move around much anymore. So it’s mostly just reaction stuff. I also make pretty good money eating on camera and playing with by big fat blubbery gut for people. People find some weird stuff to be pretty freakin’ hot. I don’t get it, but whatever. Lots of people watch my stuff to laugh at me. That I get cause again like my prejudices haven’t actually changed much. I haven’t really learned much of a lesson from this whole thing. I’m just a big fat fatty now, a big six hundred pound ball of blubber.

I’m hungry. I’m always hungry. So like I guess if you want to see me eat this entire bucket of fried chicken along with an entire freakin’ chocolate cake, don’t forget to like, subscribe and ring that notification bell and then join me on Patreon to watch me stuff myself and play with my big ol’ greedy blubber belly.

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“The Adipose Zone: Luck Be a Fat Lady Tonight”

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You’re walking through a door, one that opens up into a realm beyond taste and smell where the senses stretch on forever and reality is but another word in stirred up alphabet soup where anything is possible.

You’re walking into… The Adipose.

------ -----

Meet Mike. Mike is a rather average man who, through quite a bit of luck, has managed to marry Michelle who is the very stereotypical definition of a trophy wife. With her fit figure and wandering eye, Michelle is someone clearly out of Mike’s league and hanging around him because of his money.

Michelle loves to flaunt her fit figure. She has a stacked hourglass that she loves to show off in glamorous dresses that hold tightly to her slim figure, showcasing her bountiful breasts and her trim waist in equal measure. Her hips are generous, but her curves are tight. Like most men, she has Mike wrapped around her little finger which wouldn’t be an issue for him. She’s also extremely out of his league, something that she reminds Mike of constantly as she flaunts her figure in front of everyone. Again, it’s not an issue for Mike. He feels very lucky to be where he is.

There’s only one issue in their otherwise perfect relationship.

Mike has a gambling problem.

That’s why Mike finds himself in the sports betting section of a Las Vegas casino early in the morning, ready to bet on some east coast football games. It’s a quieter day at the sports betting parlor because who bets in person anymore when there are like five million online sports betting apps that all over 100 percent profit boosts on live five part same game parlays and what not.

Mike’s here because he’s in the whole, and his vain arrogant trophy wife is here sucking down free cocktails and eyeing slim waiters up and down as he tries desperately to dig himself out of it. He knows that if he doesn’t do something quickly to turn his luck around, if he doesn’t come up with a big winner, she’s bound to cuckold him at best and leave him completely at worst.

And that makes him incredibly desperate.

It is the perfect time, therefore, for a man ominously dressed in an all white suit and with a perfectly trimmed curly black goatee to appear. Other than the slight smell of sulfur that follows him around, he seems perfectly pleasant as he approaches Mike with a smile.

And the whole world around them stops.

“Hello there, Mike,” says the man with a smile.

“Looks like you’ve found yourself in a dilemma, a bit of a jam that I’m happy to help you get out of.”

Mike looks around at all the frozen people around him. His wife is in the middle of sipping her third martini. Then he turns back to the good looking if not so great smelling man.

“W-who are you?”

“People call me many names. This is where I usually tell you something like I’m Mr. Pip, John Milton, Mr. Nick, Old Scratch or something like that. But I’m going to be straight forward with you. I’m Satan. That’s right, Satan. I’m the literal devil standing in front of you offering a bet. But if you wish, you can call me Stan.”

“I’d rather just call you Satan at this point, if it’s all the same to you.”

“That’s fine. That was certainly one of the options I presented.”

“Thanks, Satan. Now why are you here?”

Satan smiled in exactly the way one would expect Satan to smile.

“I’m here to change your life, Mike. I’m going to offer you the chance to make an absolutely life changing amount of money, and you won’t even have to wager any of your own. Instead, you’ll wager your wife’s weight.”

“My wife’s weight?”

“Yes. That’s right, your wife’s weight. In order to achieve the kind of figures you need to keep your wife living in the luxury that has become accustomed to, you must be willing to risk her perfect figure.”

“You’re really enjoying the word play aren’t you?”

“I really am.”

Mike tapped his chin thoughtful and took another glance over at his wife’s flawless body clad in a figure hugging dress that showed off her tight curves and made her look extra alluring to all those around her.

“Okay. What’s the game?”

“I’ll let you choose.”

“And the wager?”

“Let’s say I’ll wager 100,000 dollars and you bet 100 pounds.”

“So if I pick the loser, my wife-”

“Gains 100 pounds. I’m keeping this as straight forward here as I can.”

Mike strokes his chin as the Devil strokes his own. The two look very thoughtful. 

“You’re on,” says Mike as he looks at the board to see which game he wants to bet on. 

“Now let’s see here. I need a sure bet. A can’t lose. Oh, I’ve got it. Saints vs Panthers, and I’m taking the Saints.”

“Are yous sure?”

“Of course. The Panthers suck! And the Saints have already beaten on them like a drum this season. Plus, they need this game desperately. This is their get right game for sure. They couldn’t possibly go from dropping like 90 points in the first two games of the season to losing seven straight games, not after they’ve gotten completely boat-raced in the last three! They’ve gotta win!”

“Very well….”

A surprisingly few amount of devil manipulations later…

“Son of a bitch!”

“I’m really surprised you you thought I could ever let the Saints of all teams win.”

“Yeah. I shoulda seen that coming.”

“And now, allow me to collect my winnings.”

Mike looks over at Michelle and watches as his wife’s tight and toned figure begins the balloon. 

The first parts of Michelle’s body to bloat up are her breasts. Already quite large, her bosom balloons and stretches the top of her dress before starting to sag and looking far more deflated than her previously perky set. Her flabby breasts soon come to rest on her belly. That belly, which until moments okay was simply trim and toned abdominal muscles, now bulges outward, straining her dress and still growing. Love handles grow at its side to give her middle, once a cinched waist that formed the smallest part of her hourglass figure, a much more barrel-like shape.

Down below she fattens as well. Her thighs press together creating a nice fat lap for her blubbery belly to rest on. Michelle’s once muscular thighs become made of creamy, cellulite covered flesh as waves of flab fill her body. Her ass softens as well becoming two big chunky cushions that raise her in her seat as her third martini is replaced by a third hotdog.

That hotdog is being held by a flabby arm. Both of her formerly lean limbs now feature blubbery bingo wings, and as she stuffs the hotdog into her fat face, her doughy double chin is clearly visible.

She is a fat woman, almost double the weight she once was, having gained 100 pounds in a matter of moments, and yet she doesn’t seem to notice. She just keeps eating.

The whole think is noticed by Mike, however.

“Damn. You really changed her.”

“What did you think she’d look like with an extra hundred pounds?”

“It is a lot of weight.”

“It is,” mused Satan.

“But don’t worry. I’m happy to give you a chance to gain her old figure back. Shall we say… double or nothing?”

“That was a very ominous pause you threw in there.”

“It was.”

“Very dramatic.”

“It’s kind of my thing.”

“So double or nothing?”

“Double or nothing.”

“And I get to choose the game still?”

“You choose.”

Mike racks his brain as he tries to pick a game that would put Satan in the position he wanted him in to give Mike the best chance of winning. When he hit upon it, a little twinkle of devilish delight lit up in Mike’s own eyes.

“Alright. You want to put your finger on the scale? Then I’m going to bet on the Devil’s favorite team.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I do.”

“You mean?”

“That’s right. Put it all on the Cowboys.”

One 27-21 loss to the Atlanta Falcons by America (and apparently Hell’s) team later…

“Damn. Why’d you have to do Dak like that?”

“It was the only way,” said Satan, hanging his head in shame.

“I’m glad that hurt you at least.”

“This whole season hurts, but at least now I’ll claim my prize.”

Michelle begins to balloon again as another two hundred pounds piles onto her already portly frame. This time the hourglass is impossible to maintain as her globular gut grows bigger taking up even more of her lap as it becomes a gelatinous sack of fat. It wobbles as it pushes outwardward, waves of fat crash against her thick thighs, thighs that of course keep getting thicker as well.

The fat from her thick thunder thighs and titanic ass begins to overwhelm the sides of chair she is sitting in, and soon she is sitting in two chairs so that each of her incredibly chunky cheeks gets its own seat. Even then, her blubber still spills over the sides. She has rolls and rolls of fat that cover her body, thick cankles, and pillowy arms. Her mammoth breasts are huge but extremely saggy and hang like pendulums until they rest on the shelf that is her heavy gut. That gut keeps drawing Mike’s attention. Its tremendous girth and the way it fills her fat lap is exceptionally impressive especially considering how trim and toned her middle used to be. And her face, her previously slender, model quality face is now piggish with a wide, fat nose, jiggly jowls and multiple chins. 

Even her outfit has changed. The glamorous dress she used to wear is now a food stained muumuu clinging to every roll of fat and stretched to its limits. The hotdog she was eating is now two, one in each of her fat hands, and there is a tray piled high with them right in front of her like she’s ready for Nathan’s on the Fourth of July. She looks like a dutiful hog as she continues to chow down on her fattening feast. Mustard and ketchup continue to find their way onto her muumuu painting her fat chest like a Jackson Pollock piece.

Mike notices people noticing his wife, but unlike before when they see her they mostly quickly look away, and those that linger also smirk and laugh.

The devil nods at his handiwork.

“Quite the change, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes. She’s over…”

“Four hundred pounds. But don’t worry. We still have the primetime game left to go. I’ll let you win her weight back. All you have to do…. Is bet your soul.”

There is a long pause and then a slow building laugh, but not from Satan, from Mike.

“Ha. Ha ha. HAHAHAHAHAHA. Why- why would I do THAT?”

For the first time, Satan is momentarily speechless then-

“B-because… because look at your wife.”

“Yeah! Look at her! She’s a big fat slob, a total cow. I love it! Nobody here is even looking at her, except maybe to judge her like she used to judge them. Serves her right. And me? I get more cushion of the pushin and all to myself. And all I have to do now is keep her fat and happy? That’s way cheaper than before with much less risk. This is the best!”

“But you were supposed to bet-”

“My soul? No way! I get to keep my wife and watch the Cowboys lose. This is a perfect day. And you really thought you were going to what? Drag me to hell? I’ve got news for you buddy, I’m already there. I’m a Jets fan!”

Mike laughs and laughs hysterically, putting one arm as far as he can get around the wide waist of his over four hundred pound wife while pointing and laughing at Satan who hangs his head in defeat.

---- -----

Let this be a lesson. If you’re clever and not too greedy, you can make your own luck and even pull one over on the devil himself… here in the Adipose Zone. 

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“Gluttony Looks Good On You”

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Gluttony looks good on you, darling. It really does. I love the way it’s flared your hips. You look so much more sensual now. I can see where all of those sweet treats have gone. It’s just like the old saying says, “A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.” And yours are so delightfully wide, so grabbable.

Your whole body is so squeezable now, so squishy. The fat flesh that has covered all of the muscles you used to have is remarkable. When you’re laying there like this, I can see the waves of fat undulating across your gloriously gelatinous body. It’s a sea of fat, and I love to let my hands journey across it, feeling every inch of you, pinching, poking, squeezing, jiggling. I can’t get enough of watching your fat move, making your fat move, making you fatter still.

Do you want another chocolate covered strawberry?

Of course you do. You want a dozen. Don’t you?

And cake, lots of chocolate cake, and cookies, cookies of all kinds. You really are such a gluttony, such a fatty, such a greedy pig.

I bet you if I put a trough full of chocolate mousse in front of you, you’d eat it all face first face like a good little piggy. Wouldn’t you? Of course you would. You’d love it. God, that would be so hot. We should try it. We have to. We must.

I want to watch you eat more. I want to feed you more. I want to watch you grow fatter, softer, and I know you do too. That’s how you’ve gotten this way. You wouldn’t be this fat if you didn’t love it. Maybe you didn’t love the fat at first. Maybe you just loved the act of indulging, of giving in to your every desire. But now you see what you’ve become, you’ve gone from such a fit and sexy thing to this blubbery beauty. You’re so much hotter now than you ever were even if others can’t see it.

We both know people love to tease you now, like you used to tease others. You’re on the other end of a lot of rude comments, but it’s a fun little game isn’t it, to hear them, to read them, to know that people out there are gossiping all about how you’ve let yourself go.

And then you love just letting go of all of it, not just your slim body but of all their expectations, the expectations that you forced upon yourself and others for so long. You’re a greedy glutton, a lazy fatty now growing fatter and softer by the day, and you love it. You can’t get enough of it. That’s why I’m here, to keep your blubbery body growing.

We’re going to make your thunder thighs even thicker, your backside even broader. Your greedy blubber belly is going to fill your lap. Your face is going to get fatter, rounding out and with two chins becoming three. You’re going to be so weak and helpless, as fat and pathetically lazy as you want to be. You’re going to do nothing with your days but sit around and pig out, growing fatter and fatter.

And you’re going to look so good doing it.

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“Obesity is a Marathon Not a Sprint”

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Elizabeth liked to go by the nickname Thin Lizzy, you know, like the band. And she earned this nickname because she was in fact wire thin, and she loved being that way because it helped her to do what she loved best, which was running.

Lizzy loved to run. It was her passion. To her, running was the best way to show off her superiority. She could literally run circles around people, and she loved it. She would use running to show off her fit figure and to put others plagued by perceived figure issues down.

What she really loved was that running made her metabolism so fast, and that fast metabolism meant that she was able to eat whatever she wanted (and in fact needed to keep herself loaded with calories just to do all the running that she did) without gaining any real weight. Even during the winter, when there were less races to be run so she put on a few pounds when she dialed back on her training, Elizabeth always shed that weight and was lean and mean come the spring.

She loved being lean.

And she really loved being mean.

Being mean was almost the entire point of running for her. Proving that she was superior and lording that superiority over others was the main motivating factor for all of her hours spent training, honing her perfect body to run her best.

So how did it all change?

How did she become the blubbery blob that she is today?

Well, ironically it started with what she loved most. Running had been everything to her, but one bad full and a lot of blown out knee cartilage later, and Elizabeth found herself in bed for a long time. It was quite the shift for her, going from being extremely active to no activity whatsoever. She tried to get herself out of bed far sooner than she was ready to on more than one occasion, but her arrogance and stubbornness just led to more setbacks and an even longer recovery time.

Her arrogant and haughty demeanor never changed. She still thought extremely highly of herself and felt like it was her right to be waited on hand and foot by those she still thought herself better than, and she was extremely bitter as she bickered with people and ordered them about. She was a mean person, unceasingly mean. If anything, she got even meaner and more critical of others. It was as if, without running to keep her attention, the only thing she could think to do was turning to bullying for amusement.

The other thing that did not change about Elizabeth was her appetite.

Elizabeth kept stubbornly eating the same calorie laden meals and snacking constantly throughout the day. Her body was just used to it. Even without the exercise to burn it all off, Elizabeth found herself craving food constantly, and in her arrogance she figured she could indulge those cravings as much as she wanted. She had always flaunted her ability to eat whatever she wanted without gaining a pound before. Why should this time be any different just because of one unfortunate injury.

What she didn’t count on was her metabolism falling off a cliff.

Once that happened, the pounds began to pile on. She didn’t notice it at first, but that was due to a combination of factors: She was in fact technically getting lighter at first. While she was gaining fat she was also losing her hard earned muscle mass. But soon enough the weight began to come noticeable, at least to everyone around Elizabeth. The other factor that led to Elizabeth’s downfall was her own vanity and arrogance. This kept her in an extended state of denial for far longer than should have been reasonable.

Elizabeth’s abs melted away into a spongy pot belly that absorbed plenty of fat from the calories that she was consistently stuffing herself with. It kept growing and growing becoming softer, more blubber and more voluminous. As it grew, so did her appetite. She began to eat even more than she did when she was a runner, and with her slowed down metabolism this meant that the only thing that was speeding up for her was her weight gain.

The pounds that followed her increased gormandizing really glutted her glutes and thickened her thighs. Her ass cheeks became blubbery pillows, saggy masses of fat, and her toned runner’s thighs became flabby messes, thick thunder thighs that slapped and then rubbed together as she walked (which was seldom once she gave up on trying to force her recovery.) She became quite accustomed to sitting on her fat ass all day shoving food into her mouth and growing fatter even if she didn’t realize the full extent of her fatness.

What Elizabeth did notice was that she was definitely getting weaker, and that weakness along with her growing hunger meant she was becoming consistently more reliant on other people to help take care of her, and those other people were the same people that she had spent so much time bossing around and belittling. Those people saw how much weight Elizabeth was piling on, so how fat the former fitness queen was getting and decided that this was the perfect opportunity to teach her a lesson in humility.

They began to ply her with even more food, and they were even more helpful to make sure that Elizabeth moved as little as possible. They kept her in comfort so that her cushiony body could continue to expand. And by the time Elizabeth really noticed how fat she was getting, how obese she was, it was too late. Elizabeth was trapped by her caretakers, completely reliant on them and too helpless and greedy to send them away.

Previously, Elizabeth’s greatest deadly sin was pride, and she was often prone to bouts of wrath and sometimes quite a bit of lust. But as she grew from fit to fat, she became the embodiment of greed, sloth, and most of all gluttony. She had once inspired envy in others, but as her body ballooned, she became the one who was envious, especially as her caretakers became emboldened by her reliance on them and began to taunt her, playing with her fat and commenting on her sloppy, helpless condition. Elizabeth had been a proud woman reduced to a pathetic blubbering blob.

Her belly soon filled up her lap, a lap that was quite wide thanks to the continued expansion of her thunder thighs into the size of extra wide tree trunks. She rose in her bed not under her own willpower but because her ass had grown so fat with extra flabby cushion. Even her arms were fat now with flabby wings, and her face, constantly stuffed with food, was fat and piggish with jiggly jowls and multiple chins. 

Elizabeth’s caretakers loved what they had done to her, helping to turn the formerly fit runner into a six hundred pound obese blob. She would have been obese no matter what thanks to her own bad habits, but they had really pushed her into becoming something truly special. And they had one last humiliating trick up their sleeves.

The former marathon runner was invited to be a special guest for one last local marathon. It was supposed to be a celebration of body positivity, of an “anyone can participate” attitude. But Elizabeth’s caretakers saw it as the ultimate humiliation. There was no way she could actually run, so instead the woman who once won marathons with ease found herself motoring about at the back of the pack on a motorized scooter with her fat spilling over the edges as everyone along the route gawked at her, especially those who had known Elizabeth was the vain slim and sexy woman that she used to be.

Large Lizzy lugged her lard ass about on her motorized scooter looking every bit like an over six hundred pound parade float, bringing up the rear of the race so everyone could see her and laugh. Lizzy had plenty of snacks to keep her going, but they ran out halfway through which meant the rest of the marathon was pure hell.

It was humiliating, but it was her life now, and Large Lizzy knew it. She just wanted to get the marathon over so she could eat some more.

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

“Thick Burger Delivers the Fat”

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

Jared loved his job. 

Jared got to make people fat. 

Technically, making people fat wasn’t a part of his job description. He was simply a delivery man, so he very well could have been delivering salads and other healthy foods for people looking to lose weight. But the reality of the situation was that Jared delivered Thick Burger. And delivering Thick Burger meant he was helping to make people fat. 

It usually started with a party, small ones, maybe just a few friends getting together and needed something quick and delicious as a spur of the moment kind of thing. Thick Burger was tasty. Thick Burger was fast. Thick Burger was addictive and extremely fattening, but they didn’t know that last part yet. A group of friends would get a large sampling of things, and then that one party would become a bi-weekly then weekly occurrence. Fit friends would develop closer bonds and tighter pants as their waistlines widened over time. Sometimes, Jared would be very lucky and find himself delivering to multiple locations only to find that he was meeting chubby people at the door who were once slim people from the party he had delivered to earlier. That was particularly amusing.

There was also a large call for late night delivery of Thick Burger, especially to people who were home from a long night out and looking to soak up the alcohol that they had ingested. Intoxicated individuals, already bloated from beer, loved indulging in Thick Burger late at night. When he found the fit ones that were doing this, he knew they were goners. Thick Burger was habit forming. And the slim and sexy people who loved to party were doomed to plump up because of it. They would be going from fit party animals to helpless fatties soon enough, piggies addicted to the product.

His favorite ones to fatten were the haughty ones, especially women who looked like they had been privileged with prettiness their whole lives. Jared had gotten a sense for who were the former mean girls in high school, the cheerleaders and prom queens who used to make fun of fatties. And he loved being a part of turning them into the kind of piggies they used to make fun of, feeding into their karmic comeuppance. They would inevitably go from prim and proper, to plump party goers, to full blown porkers.

What he found most satisfying was the look in their eyes.

It would always change over time. He was used to judgmental stares, glares of disdain at the fact that he was a simple, rather portly, delivery guy. Hot women loved looking down on him as they flaunted their own fit figures. But he would always know as he handed the greasy bag over and watched them grasp it with their slender figures, that those figures were doomed for fatness and he would be the one laughing last.

The slim and sexy vixens that Jared loved to fatten always started off looking so arrogant, but as their figures softened, as their outfits got unintentionally tighter, Jared would always see the change in their eyes. First that arrogance became stubborn denial. Then he watched it slip into self-consciousness. That was often Jared’s favorite part. The moment a beautiful queen bee realized her fit figure was fractured and felt the kind of shame she had forced on others. He loved the way the woman who took the greasy bag with her now chubby figures would question herself. As her blubber pressed on the seams of her dress and her greedy tummy rumbled with hunger, he could see her promising that this would be the last time she needed this but then she would get everything under control. And as her flabby arm quivered when she snatched the bag, Jared always knew that would never be the case. The next time he saw her, she would be even fatter.

And she was always fatter.

Sometimes the weight gain was less noticeable, but it was always there. Thick Burger made her crave fattening foods beyond just itself. And she no longer had control. She was a naughty piggy, a greedy fat girl who needed to give into her cravings.

Jared was there to help her do that.

And that’s when he would see the change in her eyes yet again. This time there would be a sense of wild desperation, a last gasp of wanting to change, swirling with a desire to stuff herself full of greasy, fattening, but delicious food. She knew what the food was doing to her. She knew she was getting fatter and fatter, falling farther and farther from the fit, slim and sexy and proud woman that she had been. She had seen the judgmental looks, heard the nasty comments, felt the incredible shame, but she couldn’t help herself.

She was his greedy, greasy, piggy.

Dressed in greasy ill fitting sweats, her eyes would be full of hopelessness at her situation as her fat fingers seized the bag and clung to it. He loved the way her nostrils would flare as she inhaled the scent of her feast. It always made the formerly proud woman look exceptionally piggish. He loved the way her belly would slosh out from under her food and sweat stained shirt and he could see the greasy sheen on her sweaty stretch mark covered gut. She was practically begging him for it, begging him to stuff her until her big greedy gut was as tight as a drum.

She needed him. She needed the greasy fattening food that she would bring him. She needed to be fattened further, to be brought lower, to lose control completely and eat and eat and eat. He needed to make her fatter.

And he would.

He would make them all fatter.

He would turn all the arrogant pigs into fat ones.

Fat, helpless, pathetic ones desperate for Thick Burger, desperate for his aid. They would need him to fatten them further, and he would do it.

Jared loved his job.

TEASERS: "Fat Trimmings" Volume 37

"Fat Trimmings" is back from hiatus today! And to make it worth your wait, I am including seven stories totaling over 7,700 words! The first three of these stories are available NOW on my Discord for Talking BS members.

These include:

"Can't Keep It Off": A formerly fit woman is now everything she used to make fun of and experiences life on the other side of some very rude comments.

"Licking Up Lard": A formerly slim and sexy woman is still sexy but no longer slim as she finds herself becoming a gluttonous fetish model

"I Was Possessed By a Gluttonous Ghost": A first person story about a vain ghost hunter who gets way more than she bargained for and finds her life and career changed dramatically.

"The Adipose Zone: Luck Be a Fat Lady Tonight": A desperate gambler makes a deal with the devil and wagers with his trophy wife's weight on the line.

"Gluttony Looks Good On You": A first person story about a feeder admiring a feedee.

"Obesity Isn't a Sprint. It's a Marathon": A vain runner goes from winning marathons to traveling around on a motorized scooter.

"Thick Burger Delivers the Fat": A very lucky delivery man enjoys his job which involves a lot of slim women becoming quite fat.

Want more?

Here are some more teasers:

"Can't Keep It Off"

She couldn’t stop the fat.

As much as she tried, diets exercise, it didn’t seem to matter. The tireless march of time, and her constant craving, meant that the calories that she consumed kept turning into fat. Pounds piled on, soft yielding pounds of flesh plopped onto her now redundantly flabby body. 

It wasn’t always like this. 

She used to be fit. She used to have one of those figures she loved to flaunt, sexy six pack abs that she used to show off. 

No she had a keg, a humiliating gut. And even though she dreaded the idea of people looking at it, her spongy stomach demanded to be seen. Unlike the rest of her, her fat gut couldn’t give up being the center of attention. It strained against the seams of any dress she tried to wear, and made those dresses look like sausage casings. And if she wore a shirt, her flabby pot belly would always make it ride up exposing flabby flesh for all to see. She had a big jiggly muffin top perfect for people to laugh at. 

She used to be the one who laughed. 

She used to be the one who shot others judgmental glares and said mean things behind their backs to their fat faces. When she was feeling particularly bold, she would shake a tummy, pinch a love handle, or tap some thunder thighs.

Now she’s the one on the receiving end of all of that. People love to point out how much her clothes don’t fit. They love to point out how much weight she’s gained, how much softer she is. They say all sorts of things.

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

"Licking Up Lard"

The lard that didn’t make it from the spoon into her greedy mouth, slid down her multiple chins and landed with a satisfying plop as a glob that quickly trickled into her canyon of cleavage.

How had she let herself get this way?

How had she given in so completely?

It started with small indulgences. She had always been so fit, so prim and proper and perfect. Her entire life had been about holding herself to a higher standard than others, looking down on them as she admired herself, and yet….

Indulging had felt so good. It felt so bad too. She knew she shouldn’t have done it, that she should have kept counting calories. But she felt like she was in total control. She could afford a cheat day now and then. She did it all in secret at first too. Her friends couldn’t know that the slim and sexy woman who seldom ate anything but salads was a secret snacker, a fat girl inside a fit one’s body who would secret away to fast food spots deep in the night and set herself up in a shadowy corner where she could stuff herself like the naughty little piglet she wanted to be.

And those late night feasts started to fatten her up. The secret snacking caused the pounds to sneak onto her slender waist. Soon enough, she couldn’t hide the fact that she was gaining weight from her friends. Once she popped the girdle she had started wearing in front of everyone, people could tell the truth.

She was getting fat.

----

"I Was Possessed By a Gluttonous Ghost"

Look, I didn’t expect to get possessed by a ghost that would make me stuff myself until I became a woman who weighs over six hundred pounds and is struggling with mobility issues.

Who does?

I used to be a real sexy babe, and hey, I know plenty of people would still find my fat ass super sexy. I respect that. I’m glad for that, honestly, otherwise I would be stuck being super fat and bone dry. But I think I look like a hog. Perhaps hog is too light of a word, and I’m anything but light nowadays. I used to be a very slim and sexy woman, hot as they come, but these days I’m a blob.

All thanks to that ghost.

So how did I get this way? How did I go from fit to outrageously fat?

I’ll tell you.

-----

"The Adipose Zone: Luck Be a Fat Lady Tonight"

Meet Mike. Mike is a rather average man who, through quite a bit of luck, has managed to marry Michelle who is the very stereotypical definition of a trophy wife. With her fit figure and wandering eye, Michelle is someone clearly out of Mike’s league and hanging around him because of his money.

Michelle loves to flaunt her fit figure. She has a stacked hourglass that she loves to show off in glamorous dresses that hold tightly to her slim figure, showcasing her bountiful breasts and her trim waist in equal measure. Her hips are generous, but her curves are tight. Like most men, she has Mike wrapped around her little finger which wouldn’t be an issue for him. She’s also extremely out of his league, something that she reminds Mike of constantly as she flaunts her figure in front of everyone. Again, it’s not an issue for Mike. He feels very lucky to be where he is.

There’s only one issue in their otherwise perfect relationship.

Mike has a gambling problem.

That’s why Mike finds himself in the sports betting section of a Las Vegas casino early in the morning, ready to bet on some east coast football games. It’s a quieter day at the sports betting parlor because who bets in person anymore when there are like five million online sports betting apps that all over 100 percent profit boosts on live five part same game parlays and what not.

Mike’s here because he’s in the whole, and his vain arrogant trophy wife is here sucking down free cocktails and eyeing slim waiters up and down as he tries desperately to dig himself out of it. He knows that if he doesn’t do something quickly to turn his luck around, if he doesn’t come up with a big winner, she’s bound to cuckold him at best and leave him completely at worst.

And that makes him incredibly desperate.

It is the perfect time, therefore, for a man ominously dressed in an all white suit and with a perfectly trimmed curly black goatee to appear. Other than the slight smell of sulfur that follows him around, he seems perfectly pleasant as he approaches Mike with a smile.

And the whole world around them stops.

“Hello there, Mike,” says the man with a smile.

“Looks like you’ve found yourself in a dilemma, a bit of a jam that I’m happy to help you get out of.”

Mike looks around at all the frozen people around him. His wife is in the middle of sipping her third martini. Then he turns back to the good looking if not so great smelling man.

“W-who are you?”

“People call me many names. This is where I usually tell you something like I’m Mr. Pip, John Milton, Mr. Nick, Old Scratch or something like that. But I’m going to be straight forward with you. I’m Satan. That’s right, Satan. I’m the literal devil standing in front of you offering a bet. But if you wish, you can call me Stan.”

“I’d rather just call you Satan at this point, if it’s all the same to you.”

“That’s fine. That was certainly one of the options I presented.”

“Thanks, Satan. Now why are you here?”

Satan smiled in exactly the way one would expect Satan to smile.

“I’m here to change your life, Mike. I’m going to offer you the chance to make an absolutely life changing amount of money, and you won’t even have to wager any of your own. Instead, you’ll wager your wife’s weight.”

-----

"Gluttony Looks Good On You"

Gluttony looks good on you, darling. It really does. I love the way it’s flared your hips. You look so much more sensual now. I can see where all of those sweet treats have gone. It’s just like the old saying says, “A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.” And yours are so delightfully wide, so grabbable.

Your whole body is so squeezable now, so squishy. The fat flesh that has covered all of the muscles you used to have is remarkable. When you’re laying there like this, I can see the waves of fat undulating across your gloriously gelatinous body. It’s a sea of fat, and I love to let my hands journey across it, feeling every inch of you, pinching, poking, squeezing, jiggling. I can’t get enough of watching your fat move, making your fat move, making you fatter still.

Do you want another chocolate covered strawberry?

Of course you do. You want a dozen. Don’t you?

----

"Obesity is a Marathon Not a Sprint"

Elizabeth liked to go by the nickname Thin Lizzy, you know, like the band. And she earned this nickname because she was in fact wire thin, and she loved being that way because it helped her to do what she loved best, which was running.

Lizzy loved to run. It was her passion. To her, running was the best way to show off her superiority. She could literally run circles around people, and she loved it. She would use running to show off her fit figure and to put others plagued by perceived figure issues down.

What she really loved was that running made her metabolism so fast, and that fast metabolism meant that she was able to eat whatever she wanted (and in fact needed to keep herself loaded with calories just to do all the running that she did) without gaining any real weight. Even during the winter, when there were less races to be run so she put on a few pounds when she dialed back on her training, Elizabeth always shed that weight and was lean and mean come the spring.

She loved being lean.

And she really loved being mean.

Being mean was almost the entire point of running for her. Proving that she was superior and lording that superiority over others was the main motivating factor for all of her hours spent training, honing her perfect body to run her best.

So how did it all change?

How did she become the blubbery blob that she is today?

----

Jared loved his job. 

Jared got to make people fat. 

Technically, making people fat wasn’t a part of his job description. He was simply a delivery man, so he very well could have been delivering salads and other healthy foods for people looking to lose weight. But the reality of the situation was that Jared delivered Thick Burger. And delivering Thick Burger meant he was helping to make people fat. 

It usually started with a party, small ones, maybe just a few friends getting together and needed something quick and delicious as a spur of the moment kind of thing. Thick Burger was tasty. Thick Burger was fast. Thick Burger was addictive and extremely fattening, but they didn’t know that last part yet. A group of friends would get a large sampling of things, and then that one party would become a bi-weekly then weekly occurrence. Fit friends would develop closer bonds and tighter pants as their waistlines widened over time. Sometimes, Jared would be very lucky and find himself delivering to multiple locations only to find that he was meeting chubby people at the door who were once slim people from the party he had delivered to earlier. That was particularly amusing.

There was also a large call for late night delivery of Thick Burger, especially to people who were home from a long night out and looking to soak up the alcohol that they had ingested. Intoxicated individuals, already bloated from beer, loved indulging in Thick Burger late at night. When he found the fit ones that were doing this, he knew they were goners. Thick Burger was habit forming. And the slim and sexy people who loved to party were doomed to plump up because of it. They would be going from fit party animals to helpless fatties soon enough, piggies addicted to the product.

His favorite ones to fatten were the haughty ones, especially women who looked like they had been privileged with prettiness their whole lives. Jared had gotten a sense for who were the former mean girls in high school, the cheerleaders and prom queens who used to make fun of fatties. And he loved being a part of turning them into the kind of piggies they used to make fun of, feeding into their karmic comeuppance. They would inevitably go from prim and proper, to plump party goers, to full blown porkers.

What he found most satisfying was the look in their eyes.

--------

If you want to see even more, all paid members will get the full release of "Fat Trimmings" Volume 37 tonight. Don't want to wait till then for more? If you're a Talking BS member, you can already read "Can't Keep It Off", "Licking Up Lard", "I Was Possessed by a Gluttonous Ghost" and "Gluttony Looks Good On You" on my Discord they're in conveniently downloadable PDF form for easy saving along with an extended teaser for "Luck Be a Fat Lady Tonight".

(That's right, I said the first three stories were on the Discord at the start and then by the time I finished creating this post, I decided to make it four. I'm a wildcard!)

You can upgrade your membership HERE.