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jarlewski

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Thanks.

My trick for dialogue is that I go over everything I write and say it in the voice of the character. If I stumble or get confused, I scratch it and write it over. I'm sure I look like a complete psychopath as I'm acting this stuff out, but it helps me get into what Fiona and Ethan are saying and why. And now that I'm writing chapter eight, I feel like I'm able to write thoughts and dialogue a lot quicker than action and movement. So, that's something.

And hey, awesome art!

It seems like a very good technique in my opinion!!

Thanks for the compliment. If you write something new after this amazing story and you want me to illustrate it, let me know!! ;)

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It seems like a very good technique in my opinion!!

Thanks for the compliment. If you write something new after this amazing story and you want me to illustrate it, let me know!! ;)

Ha, thanks. I don't think I would ever bother anyone that did illustrations or comics, because I don't take this very seriously. To me, this is more about sitting down and working through how I feel about this stuff, which is why it's often slow and wordy. I'm glad someone enjoys it, but I never expected to get a single comment on any of it. (I'm glad that I did, and again, thank you.)

And yeah, I'm going to write another story after this. I basically know how this one is going to end, but I've still got a bit more to say.

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Fiona parked her car and shuffled across the hot pavement to the mall entrance. The automatic doors slid open in front of her, and she was met with a gust of cool air and slightly outdated pop music. She let out a sigh of relief and breathed in the smell of warm pretzels. Air conditioning and food. It was enough to keep her comfortable and calm for the afternoon.

In contrast, the previous morning was anything but calm. Fiona had slept late and awoke to Ethan pacing in the humid air of the living room. He looked pale and haggard, a typical side effect of putting in fourteen-hour workdays and not sleeping well. She tried to have a conversation with him, but it only turned out to be a terse exchange about how he didn't have time for her today. Fiona ate breakfast in the bedroom and took a shower before deciding to leave Ethan alone for the afternoon. It was her one day off that week. She couldn't spend all of it worrying about her boyfriend.

Back in her moment of bliss, Fiona surveyed the moderately busy mall while she formulated a plan. Get pretzel bites. Look at new games. Try on some pants. See a movie. Call Vanessa. Go home. She looked at her watch. Only noon. A totally doable plan, she thought.

The older woman at the pretzel kiosk recognized Fiona. "Hey there. Where's your husband?"

Fiona blushed. "He's at work today." Strangers always assumed Fiona and Ethan were married, despite her bare fingers. In turn, she would smile and fail to correct them. Occasionally, it felt like someone was questioning the validity of their relationship - the short, fat girl and the tall, handsome man - but that didn't matter to Fiona. Let them bask in their jealousy. And it certainly didn't hurt that Ethan always seemed to hold her tighter after those moments.

The two bantered and joked about married life as Fiona placed her order. The bag came back overstuffed with baked dough, and Fiona thanked the woman before scurrying to a nearby bench. She grabbed the bottle of water from her bag and munched on her snack.

Married. Was Ethan the one? Sure, he loved her, and she loved him, but was that going to be enough to keep them going for another sixty years? They hadn't even made it to three years without running out of stuff to say to each other. Him and that fucking job. It's not like she didn't support him. What if he found somebody else that didn't put so much pressure on him? Would he love her more? She'd probably be younger. And skinnier. Or fatter. She didn't know which option felt worse.

Fiona snapped out of it. No, she thought. I am enough. Ethan is going through some shit right now, but that's life. We'll keep working at it, and everything is going to be okay. She smiled and chuckled as her inner monologue drifted away with the smell of pretzels. Maybe she couldn't make it all better, but at least she could let all of that crap go.

The video game store was nearly empty, with the obvious exception of the two twenty-something guys in black polo shirts working behind the counter. Fiona made her way to the 3DS games and took a look at the selection.

"Hey, need any help?" The shorter clerk hopped over the counter and dropped his keys. Fiona turned to see him stumble and walk over to her. He was so typical looking that she wondered if they got these guys every time they sold a thousand preorders or something.

"No, I'm fine," she replied.

"You got a 3DS?"

Fiona looked at the display of games and back at the clerk. "Uh, yeah."

"That's cool. That's real cool. It's not my thing, since it's pretty casual, but it's cool."

Fiona smirked at him. She could be over a thousand pounds and drooling, and there would still be some nerd ready and willing to spit his seduction artist game at her. "Yep," she replied, before turning back to her shopping.

The clerk behind the counter started to laugh as the shorter one stomped away. Fiona gave it another minute, decided she wasn't in the mood to deal with the idiots and left the store. But on her way out, she heard the taller clerk mutter, "You can't even pull a chunker, bro."

Fiona turned and gave them both the finger. They laughed, probably happy to get a rise out of her, and she stomped off into the mall.

Assholes. She was getting better about the bullshit at work, but even on her day off, the assholes were still there. Fiona took a deep breath and focused on her body. She felt her upper arms wobble as she walked. She noticed her thighs rubbing together. She paid attention to her hip sway, as her bulbous butt jiggled back and forth. Her belly pressed against the fabric of her shirt, and there was a little bit of sweat on her lower back. She brushed her hair away from her face and stepped onto the escalator. Even standing motionless, she could feel how soft and bouncy her body felt. She took a deep breath. Fiona loved it.

Shopping for pants was a hassle, as always, but this time, Fiona kept her cool. She had hated the idea of shopping in plus-size stores at first, but lately, it was either that or the Internet. Which wasn't too bad, since that's how she bought all of her bras, but getting clothes delivered always brought up the standard argument with Ethan, who didn't seem to grasp that online shopping for women was a trial-and-error process of buying and returning.

Fiona posed in the mirror, examining how the size 20 jeans hugged her rear. She did a little shimmy and took a picture. As she bent over to return her phone to her bag, the fabric squeezed against her belly, and it made her let out a grunt of discomfort. Fiona poked at her belly, perturbed. After accepting that the flab wasn't going to shrink from her finger, she unbuttoned the jeans and squeezed out of them. Next shopping trip, she'd be looking at size 22s, no matter what Ethan said.

After two hours of accomplishing nothing that didn't involve pretzels, Fiona decided to make her way to the movie theater. But on the way, she took a detour to the mall's tiny convenience store for a bit of personal reward. A no-panic trip to try on clothing meant two bottles of orange soda, beef jerky, three bags of candy and a package of peanut butter cups. Fiona thanked the clerk, stuffed the loot in her bag and continued on to the megaplex inside the mall.

Fiona bought a ticket to some cheesy horror movie that Ethan would never agree to see and made her way inside. An older man ripped her ticket and said something to her, but she didn't hear him. All she could focus on was the smell of popcorn that wafted over the lobby. She shifted her bag on her shoulder and remembered her snacks, but Fiona loved popcorn. And it's not like Ethan had to know about it, anyway.

"One large with some salt and lots of extra butter, please."

-

"You're a fucking idiot."

Ethan rested his palms on either side of the sink and put his face closer to the bathroom mirror. "A gibbering twit." He was naked except for a pair of gym shorts, and he looked like lukewarm hell.

"You are dating the most beautiful girl in the world, someone who is endlessly entertaining and fun, but you decide that you're going to stay home to finish three hours of work that nobody cares about but you. That, and it's the only day you get to spend with her this week. Are you damaged or something?" He paused. "Well, yeah, I am yelling at myself."

Ethan stepped away from the mirror and left the bathroom. No conference calls for the last two weeks, and the e-mails he received from Nathan had become curt replies with increasingly difficult deadlines. But Ethan got his work in on time, that was his thing, even if he was the only one that noticed the effort. Still, he felt like an asshole for letting Fiona go off on her own. He kicked a pair of her old jeans underneath the couch.

Fiona was probably stuffing her face while seeing some crappy horror movie that I would never watch with her, he thought. The last time that they had been to a movie together, she had packed her purse with snacks and drinks, because she was worried that she'd never make it through two and a half hours of superheroes without something to munch on. After they got their seats, Ethan told her that he had to make a call, but instead went to get her the biggest, butteriest bag of popcorn the concession people sold.

By the time the lights went down for the trailers, Fiona had finished off her Twix bars. She grabbed Ethan's arm and slipped his hand under her shirt to rub her growing belly. It was something he never had with any of his other girlfriends - that sense of intense intimacy, even in a loud room filled with strangers. And more than just the feeding, there was touching. It was almost like they never stopped touching and being close whenever they were together. Even when they were out with friends, Fiona would always wrap his long arms around her and squish into him.

Ethan laughed to an empty room and sat down on the couch. Maybe that's why he craved her so much - she was his adoring opposite that kept him grounded. He tracked steps. She collected calories. He spent all day exhibiting his willpower. She spent all night cutting loose.

Cutting loose. Ever since their argument about money, Fiona had been trying to hide her overindulgence from him. Subsequently, her gain had slowed to a modest pace, fueled only by their occasional "authorized stuffing sessions," or so she called them. But it wasn't like her appetite had shrunk any. That day in the movie theater, Fiona had put down everything she brought with her in addition to most of the giant bag of popcorn. Although, she did have help with the popcorn.

Upon getting her second wind, Fiona had whispered to Ethan, "Help feed me." He obliged and offered handfuls of popcorn to her greedy lips. It was reminiscent of a fantasy she had shared with him one night after sex - her, held upright in a chair, watching a marathon all of her favorite movies, while he brought her meal after meal until the chair could no longer support her body. Fiona had a long while to go before the movie theater chairs buckled under her chub, but that didn't mean the popcorn hadn't left an impact.

As the credits rolled, Ethan took her baggy sweatshirt off of the back of his chair and handed it to Fiona. That particular article of clothing had become their new sign that Fiona wanted to overeat, as it allowed her to cover up the evidence afterwards. When she slipped it on over her head, her belly pudge bounced out of her tight t-shirt, and Ethan gave it a poke. Fiona yanked the hoodie down over her exposed gut and gave him a look. He responded by putting his hand inside of the sweatshirt's front pocket, wobbling her side fat and giving her a kiss.

They made it to the car before she tossed off the sweatshirt and started making out with him.

Back in reality, Ethan's phone buzzed. And buzzed again. Someone was calling. He flicked the screen and answered, "Hello."

"Hey, Ethan. It's Nathan, bro. Had to call to check in."

Ethan rubbed the side of his head. "Hey, Nathan. What's up?"

"Got your articles here, and everything is perfect. You nailed it this time, dude. No corrections, no edits. They're all going out as is."

"That's great, man. I'll be sleeping most of tomorrow to celebrate."

Nathan let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, bro, I know we've been working you hard."

"Well, you said you needed the extra help."

"Yeah, man. Yeah." Nathan paused. "Hey, bro, can we talk? Is this a good time for you?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess." Ethan put his phone on the coffee table and turned on the speaker.

Nathan's voice filled the living room. "Yeah, so, Daniel wanted me to talk with you."

"If this is about him rejecting my raise, it's fine. I know it's not you. It's corporate, and I was stupid to even ask."

"No, man. No, it's not about that."

"So... what?"

"Daniel wants me to fire you."

Ethan felt as if his stomach dropped out of his asshole. "What."

"He wants to go in a different direction, or something. I don't know, man," said Nathan. "Honestly, this is the first time I've had to fire anyone."

"Yeah."

"I did fight for you. I know that sometimes I say that I'm going to bring something up, and I don't, because there's a lot of stuff going on around here, man, and I don't want to be that guy. But this time, I told him that we shouldn't fire you, because you always make deadlines, and you're a good dude to work with, and you're smart, and you do all of the shit work that nobody else does, and I fought, man. He just didn't listen. He said it was about moving in a different direction, and that we didn't need your voice anymore."

"Yeah."

"Which, I think, is, you know, fucked, because you were the first writer that we had that was willing to mix it up a little, dude. I saw that. I got that."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, man. I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah."

"I'm really sorry, bro. You deserved better."

"Yeah. I'm going to go now, okay?"

"Yeah, dude. Take care of yourself."

"Yeah."

Ethan ended the call. That was it - he was an unemployed failure. He had put in long hours and dealt with shit pay, so that he could become an unemployed failure. He lifted his phone off the table to text Fiona, but instead, the black rectangle dropped onto the couch. His hand was shaking. He got up, went into the bedroom, changed into his running clothes and laced up his sneakers.

It was as if the shock had put him in autopilot mode. Ethan got his keys, went for the door and froze for a moment as he wondered what to do about Fiona. She was going to break up with him. This would be it. He closed the door behind him and took off away from the apartment in a sprint.

The sun was too bright. Everything was too loud. Ethan couldn't focus. He pushed himself to run faster as he finished his first lap around the block.

Ethan bent over and threw up into a sewer grate.

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Fiona walked into the darkened apartment and tossed her keys onto the couch. She flicked the lights on and looked around. "Babe? You home?"

A faint answer came from the bedroom. "Yeah."

She placed a bag of burritos down on the coffee table and sauntered into the hallway. "Hey, I know you were super busy today, so I got us some burritos from that place. I know I'm not supposed to be..." She trailed off as she saw that the bedroom also looked dark and empty. "Babe?"

"Yeah," Ethan replied.

He was across the room, on the other side of the bed, sitting on the floor. Confused, Fiona went over to him and saw that he looked like someone had been torturing him. "Babe, what's wrong? Are you okay? What's going on?"

Ethan looked up at her, "They fired me."

"What?"

Ethan swallowed and took a deep breath. "Daniel told Nathan to fire me."

"When? Just now? What happened?"

"Before. Nathan called and told me that they needed to go in a different direction, and I tried to go for a run to calm down, and I just need some time. I just needed some time to get my shit together. I'll get up and pack my stuff."

Ethan put a hand on the wall and got to his feet. Fiona stood there, incredulous. After a few seconds, she finally replied, "Wait, what? What stuff?"

He looked at her. "My things."

"Babe, what are you talking about?"

"They fired me, Fiona. You don't want me here."

She hugged him. "Don't say that."

"I'm unemployed and I'm broke."

Fiona held his arms. "So? You were killing yourself at that job, babe. All you ever did was your best, and if they can't see that, it's their fucking problem."

"I'm sorry," Ethan mumbled.

"Babe, why? Why are you sorry?"

"I should have seen this coming. I should have done something."

"Babe, please calm down," said Fiona. "I mean, done what? Told them off sooner? Because no matter what, you would have had to leave that job and find something else. And no matter what, I'd still be there for you."

Ethan hugged Fiona. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, babe. Of course. You're my man, and we're doing our best. That's all I care about."

"Sometimes, I feel like my best isn't good enough, especially lately."

Fiona sighed. "I know, but that's different."

"What do you mean?"

Fiona looked down, and Ethan followed her gaze. Her plump belly had slipped out of the bottom of her shirt, still fairly stuffed from her trip to the movies. "It's not you. It's us."

Ethan held her hands. "What do you mean, babe?"

"I don't want to think that our relationship is coasting on sex and fat."

"It's not. It's really not," he said. "Listen, I know I've been depressed lately, and that hasn't been making things easy for you. It's absolutely the last thing you need, especially with you working six days a week. I haven't been talking to you. I haven't been talking to my friends. I figured all of this would work itself out before I needed to bother anybody. And in the meantime, you've had to deal with me at my worst when all you want is to just come home to somebody that make your day a little bit better. And I think it's because I'm so obsessed with this idea of being this tough, aggressive guy that gets stuff done and never gives up and doesn't need help, and I wanted to be that for you, but this shit in my head keeps grinding me down to, like, a raw nothing, and it makes me lose the point. That it's supposed to be for you, that I'm fighting through all of this to find something more. Like a grand adventure, like some enemy to vanquish or a vast whatever to explore, you know?"

Ethan sat on the bed, and Fiona joined him. He continued, "I mean, I always feel like there's supposed to be something more, that I'm supposed to be something more, or I'm nothing. But there isn't anything more. It's just you and me, and all of the stuff we do. There's always going to be work, but that's how it goes. That's my life. Like, that's everything. If I cured cancer, or if I got to be the first person on Mars, it would still just be you and me, and all the stuff we do together.  And maybe that's okay. Maybe that's how I make sense of everything. I don't know. But there's an infinite universe out there that is completely indifferent to whatever I think or say or do, and that used to scare the crap out of me. And now it doesn't. I love you, and I don't care anymore if I seem weak or afraid or nervous, as long as I can keep going and put in the work." Ethan rubbed the side of his head. "I don't know. I'm rambling."

Ethan looked up at Fiona. She was crying. Trying to smile, but crying. He wiped her cheeks with his fingers. "Oh, babe. I'm sorry. I was rambling. Are you okay?"

Fiona nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. You just haven't talked to me like that in a while."

"I know. I'm sorry." Ethan hugged Fiona.

"I wish you would have told me that stuff months ago."

"I didn't want you to think it had anything to do with you. I figured it could work through it on my own and not come off as... you know."

"What?"

"A pussy. A coward. Whatever. I wanted you to feel like I could take care of you."

Fiona laughed. "Babe, I don't need you to take care of me. My mom has had me working since I was old enough, and we specifically got this place because I could pay the rent myself if I had to, at least until I went back to school. I thought we both knew that I'm not marrying you for the money."

"You'd want to marry an unemployed loser like me?"

She shook him and growled. "You are not a loser! Yeah, you lost your job. It sucks. But those people were fucking up your shit, and in time, you're going to find something better. Something that isn't, like, the first fucking thing that gets offered to you. Something good that you can do without developing an ulcer. Because I know you are always going to do your best. And I know that you want to take care of me, because you do. You do, babe."

Ethan collapsed back onto the bed and exhaled. "I'm going to be okay." He paused. "We're going to be okay."

Fiona flopped onto him and snuggled against his side. "Yes, we're going to be okay."

"I'll take freelance gigs until I find something permanent, I promise."

"Babe."

"Yeah, I know. I'll let it go, for now."

"Try to be present in the moment with me."

"It's hard."

"Yeah, but it gets easier."

"No, I mean, I'm hard."

"Jesus, babe."

"Hey, you're the one with all of your squish up against me like that."

"Where is it supposed to go? Where am I supposed to put my squish?"

"Against me, always."

"Good answer."

Ethan flipped around on the bed and put his face against Fiona's stomach. He kissed her, alternating between her upper belly and her lower belly. "I'm sorry I was short with you this morning," he said.

"It's okay."

"Did you really think our relationship was just about sex and fat?"

"I don't know," Fiona replied.

"Babe."

"Hold on." Fiona struggled to sit up. Ethan helped her, and she took off her bra before dropping back to the bed. The impact between flab and mattress gave her upper body a shake. "Okay. Better."

"Well?"

"I honestly didn't know. You've been so hard to read lately, I had no idea what's going on with you. I didn't figure that this was some stubborn macho thing and not you, like, resenting me for doing my thing."

"I would never resent you."

"Yeah, well, we've been dating for a while, but it's not like we've been married for forty years. People get bitter."

"That could be the case forty years from now, but for now, I'm just happy you want to marry me."

"And you want to marry me? I don't look like the girl in the pictures anymore."

Ethan grinned. "Close enough." He kissed Fiona. "You want dinner? Somebody got us burritos."

Fiona returned the smile. "Yes."

Ethan jumped up from the bed and helped Fiona to her feet. They walked into the living room together, her in front, with him as her handbra, jiggling her boobs from behind.

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Colored streaks of light moved back and forth across the living room floor as the breeze jostled the window shades. The neighbor dog was barking again, but that didn't matter. None of it really mattered until the alarm chimed on Ethan's phone. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes and smiled.

Unemployed life had given him a chance to slow down, to reflect and most importantly, to recover from everything that was dragging him under. It was true that there was nothing sinful in leisure, if anyone outside of Ethan's mind would call his day to day leisurely. His idea of personal rejuvenation came in the form of waking up with Fiona every morning, taking on whatever freelance work he could find, exercising, working on his novel and lately, baking.

He removed the cake from the freezer and checked the frosting. It had set, so Ethan got to work on piping dabs of dark chocolate along the sides. Yeah, maybe it wasn't the most manly hobby in the world, but it made sense to him. A bunch of seemingly random ingredients plus heat and time, and chaos became cake.

Ethan rotated the stand and checked his work before he continued. Maybe he wasn't the hyper-masculine behemoth that his grandfather had been, but it wasn't like anyone demanded that of him anymore either. High school bullies that questioned his sexuality had been silenced by time and distance. His college friends were too busy worrying about wives, mortgages and winning arguments on Facebook. Clients and coworkers never cared what he did with his time, because, for the most part, telecommuters avoided small talk. Even his own father had lightened up on the habitual criticism during their monthly phone call, which was probably thanks to Fiona.

Fiona. She had been the absolute best since he lost his job. Not only was she handling the rent without complaints, but they had been falling asleep every night working through their problems. He would go off about something that made him feel weak or nervous, and she countered with advice or gentle reassurance. She would rant about whatever had triggered her anger, and he replied with suggestions from the pile of self-help and pop psychology books that she had assembled in the living room.

The only thing that they hadn't discussed was the subject of Fiona's expanding form. Over the past seven weeks, Ethan had watched his girlfriend positively swell as she intensified her gluttonous efforts. If anything, their limited budget had become a challenge she was all too happy to overcome.

While at work, Fiona gladly accepted whatever extra food was offered to her by coworkers, to the point of where some of the more matronly nurses would provide her with a second (or third) lunch. And that was before a helpful Puerto Rican CNA had tipped her off to the existence of a surplus snack refrigerator at the end of the hall. There, Fiona discovered the holy grail of gaining - diet supplements. The ice cream and protein shakes they used to give patients an extra boost in their diet quickly turned into a twice-a-day boost for Fiona's waistline. All told, it was enough to turn a marathon runner to jello.

But by the time she returned home to Ethan, Fiona's appetite had her ready for more. And sure enough, she had found new ways to keep eating after work. On Wednesday nights, she met Vanessa for dinner and drinks, which Vanessa almost always put on her husband's credit card. The two girls would stuff themselves silly at some local chain restaurant and invariably make plans involving their men for Saturday night. It was then that Ethan would pack up a bundle of baked goods and accompany his girlfriend to Vanessa and Bill's house.

For the past month, the night always began the same way - Fiona would present an outgrown outfit as a gift to the smaller-but-still-pudgy Vanessa, while Ethan and Bill would finish up cooking dinner in the kitchen. The girls would break off to watch a movie or something after eating, and the boys went outside to enjoy a beer in the cool evening air. Twice, Ethan had managed to steer the conversation towards Vanessa and Fiona's voracious performance during dessert, but Bill had only chuckled nervously in response.

Ethan's phone buzzed, and he returned to reality. Unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Ethan Bellinghausen?"

"Yeah, speaking."

The voice on the phone chortled softly. "Oh, thank god. I was going to e-mail you to schedule this, but Nathan told me to just call, but I almost never just call anyone, so... glad I got the right Ethan, right?"

Confused, Ethan quickly checked the number again, but it definitely wasn't anyone he knew. "Yeah, of course."

"Yeah, so, hey, my name is Tyler, and I am the tech lead at the Bishop-Baker Project. Do you-"

Ethan interrupted, "Yeah, I know who you guys are."

Tyler sighed. "Okay, cool. That's going to save me a lot of time, because, ack, data journalism, you know. And so, I'll get right to the point. I heard from Nathan that you were available."

"Bishop-Baker wants to hire me?"

"Yeah, totally. I've read a bunch of your work, and you come highly recommended from literally everyone I've talked with since I got your resume."

"Which Nathan gave you."

"Yeah! He and I, we've been friends since college. And when I asked if he knew anybody, he said you were the first and only person I needed to interview. So I checked around and gave you a call and here we are."

Ethan replied, "Yeah, here we are. Do... did you want me to interview on the phone or come to the office?"

"Oh, yeah, wow. I didn't even think that far, because we are so messed up over here lately with the team being one person short. Do you think you could come into the office and go through the whole thing? I know you don't live near here, but if you can get here, we'll handle everything on this end, so all you've got to do is get here."

"Yes, of course. When do you want me there?"

"Uh, well. Uh." The voice paused to shuffle things around on his desk. "We've got a thing and a conference, and Brigit has a few days vacation, so, maybe, end of the month? Is that bad?"

Ethan laughed. "Not if you want to hire me. I'd love to work with you guys. Really. What you do is essential to the future of journalism, and I'd love to be a part of it."

"Ethan, that is so great to hear. Is the e-mail address on your site okay for me to use?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Great. Okay. Well, I'm going to e-mail you the details, and we'll be in touch, okay?"

"Thank you, Tyler. That sounds fantastic."

"Fantastic. Okay. I'll talk to you again soon. Have a great day." Click.

Ethan stood up from the kitchen table and threw his fists up into the air. "Motherfucking Bishop-Baker, motherfuckers! Oh! Fuck! Yes!" He danced in place and did a victory lap around the apartment. Seven weeks of unemployment, and he finally had a job offer worth taking. And somehow, it was from Nathan recommending him. 

He returned to the kitchen table and pressed his palms onto it. Fiona was going to be so proud of him. Ethan gave the moment four deep breaths before he went back to piping frosting onto the cake. She was going to be so proud of him, and he had made her a cake.

-

"Thanks, girl. You're the best."

"You're welcome." Fiona smirked and handed Brittany a cup of vanilla ice cream from the snack fridge. Even though it was clearly labeled as having twice the calories of normal ice cream, neither of them seemed to care. The Puerto Rican girl had long since abandoned her summer diet, and Fiona was happy to help the chunky CNA develop her curves.

"I'm going down to the PT room, if you need anything."

Brittany had already stuffed her mouth full of ice cream. "Uh-kah."

Fiona pitched two empty ice cream cup containers into the trash and waddled down the hallway. The extra weight from the last seven weeks had certainly turned her hippy strut into a wobbly sashay. Any and all movement seemed to bounce her round belly and back fat against her top, a welcome addition to the typical jiggle of her boobs and upper arms. She entered the bathroom, checked the stalls, dropped her bag and clicked the lock shut.

As soon as she could step in front of the mirror, Fiona folded her shirt up over her belly and turned to check out her ass. She winced at the baggy pants and pulled them down to reveal her substantial, but slightly lumpy backside. No matter how much fat she forced onto it, her butt had kept its shape - a convex, fleshy shelf formed by two distinct globes that stretched her white, lacy panties to the point of being sheer. Her thumb ran along the fringe, examining a slight rip in the underwear by her hipbone.

Soon, she thought. Another meal or two, and these things are going to burst. She smiled into the mirror and whispered to herself, "Just rip right off of me as I'm stuffing my face." Fiona laughed and gave her thick, soft thighs a squeeze with both hands.

How much fatter could she get? Ethan seemed unconcerned during this latest surge of weight, a welcome change from depressed and debt-obsessed Ethan. Fiona hadn't outright asked him about her new look, but she made sure to tease him with details whenever she got the chance. And yet, he never responded with anything but adoration. 

Maybe it was because she had stopped weighing herself. Maybe he thought she was only kidding about the ice cream and protein shakes. Maybe he didn't notice the extra pounds.

Fiona shook her belly, which had puffed out in a way that made her look perpetually bloated. From her massive boobs to her doughy middle to her wide hips and thighs, she had the look of a overfilled hourglass. How could he not notice? Then again, Ethan did seem oblivious that her fantasies were growing with her.

Being a satiated, fat fuck-toy wasn't enough for her anymore. Fiona wanted to be worshiped. She ran her chubby fingers over her omnipresent double chin. If she was going to be a big girl, she didn't want to stop until Ethan made her stop. She wanted more. She wanted him to cook for her all day. She wanted him to funnel feed her melted ice cream. She wanted him to lick her, to please her.

Fiona grabbed her boobs and smushed them together for the pleasure of her reflection. Most of all, she wanted Ethan to indulge in her private fetish. He knew about what was in the pictures and stories she shared with him whenever he brought his laptop to bed, but she had kept her favorite for last. She wanted him to fatten her up until she couldn't move, and then, milk her like a naughty wet nurse. Her strong, powerful feeder would hold her down, suck her dry and stuff her senseless until she was ready to be his milkmaid again.

A chime started in her bag. Fiona bent over with a slight moan, sifted through her things and turned off her alarm. Daydreaming time was over.

Across the hall, Deirdre was waiting for her, reading her book and munching on chicken and rice. Fiona padded into the room and sat opposite her mindfulness mentor.

"You okay?" asked Deirdre. "You're all red."

Fiona felt her face. She was still blushing from the trip to the bathroom. With a laugh, she replied, "Yeah, I just got a happy Wednesday message from Ethan."

"Aww. That's sweet."

Fiona opened her chicken caesar salad and stabbed her plastic fork into it. "Yeah, he still makes me go all girly." She took a small bite. "But sometimes, I wish we could fast forward to when things were better."

Deirdre closed her book and gave her full attention to Fiona. "You told me that he was doing better now that he's not losing his mind over that old job."

Fiona quickly chewed and swallowed. "Yeah, no. He is doing better. I'm just saying, like, the future."

Deirdre sighed. "What happened to living a wholehearted, self-aware life?"

"I am."

"I know, dear. And I know the last thing anybody wants is for some old crone like me to lecture them about what they already know, but believe me when I say that a desire for the future isn't going to help you become the person I know you want to be. And I say that not because you're doing something wrong, but because I so badly wish I could tell that to my younger self." Deirdre paused and exhaled. "For the first five years of my marriage, all I wanted from Simon was for him to grow the fuck up. I thought I could bully him into being a responsible adult, because I thought I needed a house and kids and some stability. But when I found out we couldn't have kids, or that my bad credit prevented us from getting that house, all I wanted to do was rewind to the days when my husband was getting high in the basement and listening to Pearl Jam. Because I missed out on that, because I thought that I had to be the one that was prepared for his sake. And after years of nagging the poor man, Simon was the one and only person that was there for me when I needed someone."

Fiona got up and hugged Deirdre. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, dear. That's the past."

"I'm still learning."

"We're all still learning, dear. There's still times when I wish I could smack that smug little shit husband of mine, but that's me. That's all me. It's all mixed up inside of me. And since I can't get rid of that part of who I am without tossing out the rest, I become aware of it and greet my negative aspects with loving-kindness. I befriend who I am. I accept my feelings. And I don't let that resentment build in me any longer."

"I don't want to resent Ethan."

"No one has to resent anyone. If we were all a little more curious and alert, we wouldn't be so harsh to ourselves or each other."

Fiona nodded before sitting back down and eating her salad.

Deirdre continued, "Now, I'm not saying that you should let him get away with anything. If Simon doesn't take care of our garden, I'll let the dogs in on him when he's sleeping."

"You're bad."

Deirdre smiled. "I am many things."

Fiona smiled. Fantasy, reality, future, present, frustration, acceptance, whatever. She was no less complicated than Deirdre, but she knew she would figure it all out.

"But complicated and compassionate works for us."

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Ethan slipped his phone into his pocket and jogged out to the parking lot behind the building. Fiona's car idled in her spot, awaiting his arrival. He opened the passenger side door and hopped in, momentarily surprised by the blast of cool air from the air conditioner.

"Hey, babe," said Fiona.

Ethan replied, "Hey-"

But before he could finish, Ethan caught sight of his gorgeous, gluttonous girlfriend. Seemingly, her night out with Vanessa had been a success - she was stuffed beyond the point of discomfort to a state nearing food coma. Fiona went to rub her belly, but the movement made her shirt pop up over her gut and nestle in between her top roll and her boobs. She exhaled and ran her fingers weakly across her stomach. Even the slightest bit of contact caused her to burp. "Excuse me," she muttered.

Ethan picked up her phone and paused the podcast that was playing on her stereo. "Babe, what happened to your pants?"

Fiona looked down. "I'm wearing pants."

From his perspective, she wasn't. Her meaty thighs rose up to squish against her taut belly, while her side fat and butt pudged out of the bottom of her shirt. Fiona looked down again and gave her skimpy shorts a tug. A small bit of black fabric moved out from under her belly and onto her thigh. "I didn't want to wear my scrubs, so I looked in the car and all I could find was my old gym shorts."

Ethan leaned over and gave her a kiss. As he moved back into his seat, Fiona took his wrist and held onto it. He took the hint and went to rub her belly, but upon first contact, she reacted like his hand was electrified. A long groan turned into a slow moan as he ran his fingers and palm over her bloated, puffed out tummy. Fiona reclined her seat slightly and let out another belch.

"Gross," said Ethan.

Fiona snickered. "Whatever."

"How's Vanessa?"

Fiona arched her back and grinned like a serial killer. "That girl can't keep up."

"What did you do now?"

She laughed and whined. "Ugh, no laughing."

"Hey, I didn't say anything funny."

"I was a good girl tonight. You would have been proud of your feedee."

"I'm always proud of you, babe."

"Vanessa thought it would be funny to order two of those dinner for two deals, and I made her eat all of her side of the table, but I still ended up having half of her chicken sliders." She paused. "And all of dessert, because Vanessa was being a bitch."

"Wha- How? How was she being a bitch?"

"She ordered the fucking thing, and then she didn't want any of it. So I ate it."

Ethan did the rough math in his head. Two and a half dinners plus a dessert from any chain restaurant was well over twice what an adult should eat in a day. Unless that adult desperately wanted to be over 300 pounds. Fiona shifted in her seat and grunted. "If I had to move right now, I'd puke," she said. He believed her.

"Did Vanessa get home okay?"

"Yeah, she'll be fine."

"She'll be fine?"

"Once her beach ball belly deflates, she'll sleep it off and wake up with an even fatter ass. Unlike me. Because it just goes everywhere over here."

"You look beautiful, babe. You're my chub love Fiona Bee."

"And you're my strong, handsome man."

"Got to be strong for my big queen bee."

"Big?"

"Fat."

Fiona faked a frown. "I'm not fat. I'm voluptuous." She tugged down on her shirt, but no amount of effort could get it to stay in place. "Okay, fine. I'm fat." Ethan laughed.

"Hey, you turned off my podcast," Fiona said.

Ethan replied, "Yeah, well, I was a little preoccupied by the state you were in."

"Did you know that the first CPR training doll was based off of a death mask?"

"I did know that. Did you know that bikes were originally called velocipedes?"

"I didn't know that. Did you know that there was a king of Persia that read the whole encyclopedia set, so he called himself the Formidable Lord and Master of the Encyclopedia Britannica?"

"I didn't know that. Did you know that NASA uses inflatable owls to scare woodpeckers away from shuttle launches?"

"I did know that. Did you know that an ostrich's eye is the same size as its brain?"

"I did not know that. Did you know I got a job offer today?"

Fiona lit up. "What!"

"I got a call from a guy on the Bishop-Baker team, and he wants me to come down and interview at the end of the month. Apparently, they love me. It was the first work phone conversation I've ever had when the guy on the other end was more nervous than I was. And they already booked the hotel room."

"I have no idea what any of that means, but I am so excited for you! That's great. That's so great," she replied. "Why didn't you call me and tell me?"

"I didn't want to bother you on girl's night. It's just an interview."

Fiona struggled to sit up and kiss him. "No, babe. You did it. No more freelance work or worrying about the rent. You made shit happen."

"Can you be there with me?"

"What?"

"It's at the end of the month. We've got a free hotel room for a night while I interview. We could get dinner, see a new city and maybe check stuff out. I figured we could make a thing out of it."

"Uh, yeah! Let's totally do that. That sounds awesome."

"Awesome," Ethan replied. He leaned over the console and kissed her. "Do you think we can go inside now?"

Fiona huffed and nodded. Ethan stepped out of the car and walked around to help her move. "Wait," she mumbled. "The neighbors."

"You think the neighbors are watching our parking lot at almost ten at night to see if your huge boobs finally explode out of your top?"

She whacked him in the thigh. "Just help me."

Ethan wrapped his long arms around Fiona and walked behind her as she waddled to the door. Her face grew warm, and she whispered something to him.

"What?" he replied.

"My panties just ripped."

Ethan went to give her belly a wobble, but it still felt uncomfortably firm. He decided not to risk it and kissed the top of her head instead. "That's pretty hot, babe."

She grumbled, "Inside."

Ethan opened the door for her, and the two of them stepped into the dark apartment. Fiona trudged straight through the living room and the hallway to the bedroom. With a difficult groan, she took off her shirt and bra and tossed them across the room. "Help me," she said.

"Help you?" he replied.

"No teasing."

He bent over to remove her shorts and stopped next to her belly. Ethan squeezed his fingers into her sides gently and kissed her taut stomach. She inhaled sharply. He continued kissing her, moving up and down from her stomach to her breasts to her thighs. She stifled a moan. He sucked on her nipple for a moment before giving her rotund ass a playful slap. Fiona grabbed his shoulders. "Help me, and I'll show you something."

He slipped off her shorts, followed by her panties and gave her a deep kiss between her thighs. Fiona shuddered. "Put me on the bed."

Not able to lift her, Ethan gave Fiona a bit of a helpful shove towards the edge of the bed. She bounced against the mattress, and her whole body shook from the impact. He held her close and kissed her neck. She bit his ear lobe and said, "Get the scale."

Ethan stood up and gave her a second look. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"I said I wanted to show you something."

With another thought, he scurried out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. The scale wasn't in its usual place. "Uh, babe?"

"Closet."

Ethan opened the bathroom closet and grabbed the scale. "Got it." He rushed back to her side and placed the white square before her on the floor.

Fiona hesitated. "What's wrong?" Ethan asked.

Fiona looked up at him and scrunched her face. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yeah, super sure."

"It's going to be bigger than last time."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "You think?"

She didn't laugh. "I mean, it's going to be a lot bigger than last time. I don't know if you noticed, but I've been piling it on lately."

"I thought that's what you wanted?"

"It is." she said. "But is that what you want?"

"I love the way you look. If this is what you want, I'm your feeder."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he replied.

Fiona put her foot on the scale to turn it on, and with a bit of a dull crunch, she stepped onto it. The screen went blue, then went dark, and finally returned a number - 281.

He looked at her. She looked up at him. They both said, "Two hundred and eighty one."

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"I need my dessert. Are you thirsty?" she asked. He nodded enthusiastically. She wobbled her way over to the bed and sunk down onto the mattress. He climbed on her immediately, wasting no time to toss that new bra aside. She pushed her fat tits together, so he could kiss and lick them both. He settled down, sinking into her warm, fat body, and began to suck on her milky nipples.

Fiona clicked to go to the next page of the story, but the browser displayed an error message screen instead. She tried reloading the page. She tried clicking the back button. Nothing. She sighed. For such a beautiful hotel, they sure did have the worst possible wireless Internet service.

She turned to look at the bedside clock: 10:21 AM. Ethan said he would be gone for another hour, and then, they'd get lunch together before checking out the local museum. Fiona pushed her laptop off of her thighs on the bed and stretched her legs out over the sheets. Short, stubby and chubby, she thought as she gave her massive thigh a squeeze. It had been a bit of a chore to accept the cellulite and stretchmarks that appeared with the last fifty pounds, but Fiona loved her legs. Especially her thick, powerful calves.

Those thick, powerful calves that had been getting her fat ass back in motion.

Once the reality of Fiona being over a hundred pounds heavier than Ethan sunk in, the couple decided that it was time to make some changes. They agreed to a better diet with less carbs, nightly walks and no more dessert during sex. Fiona had even started taking the stairs again at work. And it had all been enough to keep her at 280, despite her occasional moments of weakness.

Ethan was supportive, which helped considerably. He could stay strong and remind her of the summer hikes they planned on taking when she only wanted to stuff her face. In retrospect, he hadn't relinquished his role as "diet supervisor" since they agreed upon the plan. Or, at least he hadn't, until their little vacation.

Fiona slid off the bed and walked to the bathroom. It was a bit colder than the rest of the room, but she slipped off her t-shirt anyway. She had to know.

She ran her fingers over her stomach as she looked at herself in the mirror. Yes, her now-uncovered belly was still swollen from the night before. Fiona grabbed her rolls and placed the bulk of her stomach fat on the bathroom counter-top. As it wobbled from the impact, she felt a chill run up her back. The smooth surface was cool against her sensitive skin, but it was more than that. The weight. The jiggle. The size. How it felt when Ethan fed her.

The agenda, as he told her during the drive into the city, was pretty simple. Get work out of the way. Grab dinner at some hole-in-the-wall seafood place. And take their nightly walk around the town plaza before returning to the hotel for an early night. But by the time Ethan returned from the Bishop-Baker offices, he had devised a new plan.

They left the hotel, and he guided her directly to the town plaza, which had been populated with covered stands and booths selling holiday trinkets. Fiona took a few pictures of Ethan posing with the decorations, but as she turned to look at another display, he disappeared into the crowd. A bit panicked, she tried to hop up and down to see if she could spot his head above the rabble. No Ethan in sight.

Fiona went off towards the street until she felt someone try to grab her arm. It was Ethan, with the first of many surprises of the night. A stupid grin on his face, he presented a sausage sandwich drenched in curry ketchup. She offered him a taste and he accepted, but it was only the smallest of bites. In response, she laughed at him and devoured what she assumed was her dinner. Ethan slipped his hand into her winter coat and patted her belly. "Make some room in there, babe," he whispered to her. Fiona blushed and pushed his arm aside.

Next, they went to the seafood place. As per usual, Ethan ordered as Fiona sat in a booth, waiting for him to return with their food. Her mind wandered for a bit, thinking about what it would be like to live in this new city, until he placed two lobster rolls and an orange soda in front of her. Instinctively, she moved one over to his side of the table, but he blocked her hand with another lobster roll for him. Confused, Fiona looked up at Ethan just in time to see him put a large basket of fries next to the rest of her food. "Indulge," he said with the same stupid grin.

One meal later, Ethan put his arm around Fiona and took her to a local coffee shop to sit and relax. He offered to get her dessert, but she waved him off, citing her diet as an excuse. In response, Ethan smiled and said he had to go to the restroom. Ten minutes later, he returned with a large brown bag, and with no explanation, told her it was time to head back to the hotel. Fiona shrugged and finished off her latte.

They walked slowly across the city, hand in hand, discussing what they wanted to do the next day. Ethan insisted that they wouldn't be able to get to the museum before noon, and that Fiona should take the time to sleep in. After all, how often did she get a day off to lounge around in bed? Fiona agreed, but reminded him that she was perfectly capable of getting up early for a walk after breakfast. Ethan only smiled and nodded.

She tried to snatch the bag from him as they entered the hotel lobby and again in the elevator, but Ethan kept it from her. It was obviously a present of some sort, but something he didn't want to give her in the coffee shop. She put on an act, fake pouting, for all of a minute, until she grew tired of it and decided to wait for the big reveal.

Back in their room, Fiona closed the blinds and turned on the television, trying to act disinterested as Ethan fumbled with his mysterious brown bag.

"Okay, babe. I've been good. What's in the bag?" she asked.

Ethan placed a silver box on the desk in the corner. "That's for later," he replied.

"Oh, what's for now?" she said with a chuckle.

As his retort, Ethan placed four plastic trays in front of Fiona on the bed. Inside each was a bacon-wrapped hot dog topped with cheese and ketchup. She laughed. "Two of these are yours, right?"

Ethan shook his head.

Without another word, he climbed onto the bed and sat behind Fiona, holding her in his arms and legs. "Babe, I don't know," she said. He kissed her neck and popped open the first tray. The smell wafted up, and she could feel the saliva in her mouth.

"They said this was the best hot dog place in the city."

"That's why we had to go to that specific coffee shop?"

Ethan jiggled her belly. "If you don't want them, I'll get rid of them."

Fiona bit her lip. "No, baby. I don't waste food." She reached for the tray, but Ethan grabbed her wrist. Knowingly, Fiona let her weight drop back onto him and put her hands on her belly. He picked up the hot dog and started to feed her. She took small bites, attempting to savor the delicious combination of flavors. With her attention focused on bacon and beef, Fiona began to mindlessly massage her growing belly, which in turn, made her moan softly in between chewing.

Three hot dogs later, Fiona let out a whine of discomfort. Ethan clutched the back of her neck. "You want to stop?" he whispered as he kissed the side of her face. Fiona swallowed hard and gently shook her head. It was the most intense moment the two had shared in weeks. She was so full, but no, she didn't want to stop. Fiona smeared a glob of cheese off her lip and pushed his hand back towards her lips.

"I can't stop," she purred to him.

-

"Bro, it's cool. I'm happy everything is cool, and it all worked out in the end."

"It did, dude. And again, thank you," Ethan replied.

"Hey, I'll talk to you later, okay? You know how Daniel is about these fucking meetings."

"Yeah, man. I'll let you go."

"Okay, later, bro," said Nathan.

Ethan flicked the call away with his thumb and slipped his phone back into his suit jacket pocket. He looked around to figure out where he was headed. The city around him was bright and cold, but surprisingly quiet. The standard combination of bright lights and piss stench from back home was nowhere to be found. Maybe a day out could make Fiona love this place enough to want to move, he thought.

He laughed to himself. Fiona wasn't going to be keen on moving anywhere beyond the hotel room after last night. Not that it was entirely Ethan's fault. He had fed her the four hot dogs before she fell asleep in his arms, but he never intended for her to get into the box from the coffee shop until today. But sometime around three in the morning, Fiona had woken up, gotten out of bed and waddled across the room to see what was in the silver package on the desk. Ethan had felt her plump, naked body rise off him, and it was enough to get him up. When her pudgy fingers revealed the contents of the box, he quietly sat up to watch what she would do next.

For a moment, Fiona stood there, staring at the six cannolis in the silver box. She selected one, licked it and paused again. Ethan sat in silence, grinning to himself, waiting for her to eat. Finally, she made her move and practically inhaled it. And with no hesitation, Fiona grabbed a second cannoli. And a third. She kept munching as she moved from one to the next. As she stuffed the last bite of the fourth pastry into her mouth, Fiona let out a groan that was equal parts discomfort and pleasure.

In response, Ethan leaped up and grabbed her. Her throat made a squeaking noise, and he kissed her passionately. Panic turned to excitement. She ran her fingers down his bare back, hard enough to leave pink streaks behind. Ethan drifted from her lips and put his face next to hers. "So much for your diet. You keep eating like that, and you're going to be over 300 pounds by Christmas."

A little shiver ran through Fiona. He could feel how powerless she was, how bad she wanted to give in to her base urges. Neither one of them could ignore it - there was something inside both of them that would eventually doom any of her diet plans. And since she couldn't maintain her weight, the consequences were obvious.

Fiona kissed Ethan's neck and took a deep breath. "Promise?"

He put his hands on her swollen belly and guided her back to the edge of the bed. With a gentle push, she fell back onto the mattress. As her fat bounced and wobbled, Fiona let out an audible gasp. Ethan hovered over her, waiting for the inevitable apology or dismissal of what was going on. But instead, Fiona ran her fingers over her gut to calm her stomach and looked back up at him. "Promise?" she repeated.

Ethan ran the back of his hand against her chins. "Is that what you want?"

She nodded, but it was an awkward response. Far too demure. Betrayed by fake confidence.

He kissed her. "We can stop."

She pulled him closer. "I don't want to stop." His arm touched against her inner thigh, and there was a feeling of energy, like a warm hum running over and through her.

Ethan took a deep breath and went for it.

"Can you stop?" he asked as he grabbed her wrists. "Did you honestly believe that a fat girl like you would ever stop?" He put her back onto the bed and held her arms down. Her eyes snapped open, but she couldn't respond with words. "You knew once you started gaining that this was inevitable, so why would you stop?"

He straddled her gorgeous, fat form and put his lips against her round, plump face. "Why?" he asked.

She whispered a response, "I don't know."

"Don't lie to me. You can't lie to me anymore." He ran his hand against her pudgy forearm and gave it a squeeze. She shook and exhaled sharply. "I thought I had to convince you." He brushed his finger against her left nipple. "I thought I had to set goals and tell you to eat for me." He kissed her breast. "But this was never about me. This..." He poked her taut belly for emphasis. "This is you, babe. And no matter what you say or do, or how much it scares you, there's no use denying what you want."

Ethan grabbed her tits and began to suck on her right nipple. Fiona shuddered and moaned, quivering against the bed underneath him. With a gasp, she blurted out, "I want to be fat."

He looked up at her and smiled. "You are fat."

She tried to catch her breath. "Fatter."

The two waited together in the moment of silence. Slowly, Fiona withdrew from her submissive pose to hold Ethan in her arms. Finally, he said something.

"I love being your feeder."

"I love being your feedee," she replied.

"And you want more."

She nodded.

"How much more?"

"I don't know."

"300."

"More."

"320."

"More."

"350."

"I don't know," Fiona replied.

Ethan stepped off the bed and went to the desk. He took the two remaining cannolis out of the ruffled paper and pushed the silver box into the garbage can. Without a word, Fiona took the pastries from him and began to eat. He rubbed her belly and kissed her side rolls. After she finished the first cannoli, Ethan slipped off her underwear and put his face in between her thighs. Fiona shuddered at his touch, gasped and packed the second cannoli into her mouth.

She mumbled something, but her mouth was too full for Ethan to understand what was said. He pulled back and looked up at her. "What?"

Fiona swallowed and gasped for air. "Fuck me. Fuck my fat pussy."

"Sir?"

Ethan came back to reality and looked at the girl behind the bakery counter. "Huh? Sorry, what?" he asked.

"It's your turn," she replied.

"Oh. Yeah," he said. "I'll have 12 macaroons and a carton of cream, please."

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Fiona stepped out of the shower and put one foot onto the cool tile floor. She winced at the sensation, but it was enough for her to snatch a towel off the shelf above the toilet. Fancy place or not, none of her surroundings were designed for a tiny person with short arms. Fiona paused for a second as she dried herself. Did she still think of herself as tiny? Could she be tiny?

The sound of Ethan moving around outside of the bathroom brought Fiona back to the task at hand. She dried off, grabbed a second towel for her hair and ventured out into the colder air of the hotel room. Ethan was sitting on the bed, using her laptop, reading over something with a stupid look on his face.

As she fussed with her hair, Fiona asked him, "Whatcha doing, babe?"

Ethan looked up at her with a smirk. "Nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing."

He looked at the laptop and read aloud, "His light touch explored her bovine beauty, until his fingers cupped her 46K tits. At 400 pounds, she had become his everything, and it only made him work harder for her milk. So much milk-"

Fiona turned red and tried to slap the laptop closed. "Ethan!" He pulled back as her hands swatted about, trying to enjoy the teasing without the inevitable payback.

"Truce! I stopped reading! I stopped!"

Fiona huffed and stared at him.

"You left the incognito window open," he said. "I went to go look up information about the museum because their mobile site sucks, and it was there. And I only read two pages. I just got back."

She said nothing.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd mind if I read your story or whatever, since I already knew you liked this stuff. I wasn't trying to be mean. I promise. It's just that you never share this stuff with me anymore."

"Because it's fucked up," she replied.

"What? No. I mean, it's porn. Most porn on the Internet is pretty fucked up."

"Compared to what you look at."

"Babe, you know that's not fair. I spent months pounding it out to fat pictures of you. You know it doesn't take much for me."

Fiona sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from Ethan.

He continued, "I'm sorry. Really. I'm just curious about this stuff, because you never, ever have any pages in your history. And I like knowing what turns you on."

"That was one I found on a site I normally look at, but I hadn't read it yet. I was still horny from last night when I woke up, but the wifi crapped out, and I took a shower instead, and that's why the page was there." Fiona turned to look at Ethan. "After last night, I wanted something different. I know you find it sexy that I've lost control-"

Ethan interrupted, "Babe, no."

"No, it's okay. Let's be honest. Last night was different. And it's all been kind of different." Fiona took the towel off her head and tossed it onto the desk chair. "When I first started gaining, you kind of thought you were tricking me into this, and now, I'll be lucky if I can get through Thanksgiving and Christmas without putting on another ten pounds. But babe, I love this. I love the way I look. I love being able to eat. I love it when you watch me stuff my face. I love how you touch me. I love how I feel." She paused to exhale. "But this is a lot. And I can't control my appetite. All I want to do is eat. Which would be fine if I was some girl in a story that blimped up and couldn't stop. Nobody ever makes fun of some ditzy bitch when she's stuck in bed, funneling down gallons of weight gain shakes. But being fat in real life isn't easy. And sometimes, I don't love my body or how I feel. Sometimes, I get all sweaty and my clothes don't fit right and I just want to go home to you and keep eating. It's not sexy or fun then. It's just sad, because I can't turn it off."

Ethan sighed. "Babe, when you first started gaining, you said it was for me, and that it was my thing. But when you thought that you'd gained too much, you got defensive and said it was your thing. Really though? It's our thing. And I never want you to feel bad about that."

"Would you love me if I lost all the weight?"

"I'd love you always."

"Yeah, but would you still want to fuck me if I lost all of the weight?"

Ethan nodded. "It wouldn't be the same, but yeah. I mean, you know what I like. I'm always going to wish that you were fat, but I'm never going to be disappointed by the way you look. That's the brutal honest truth."

"And what if I got a lot fatter?" Fiona asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't know what I want."

"That's why I kind of assumed-"

"Assumed what?"

"Well, like with Vanessa."

Fiona scrunched up her face. "Huh?"

"Babe, you're obsessed with fat girls. You constantly stress out about how you look, but when it comes to other women, you go crazy for pudge. Like, I'm pretty sure you want Vanessa to be over 400 pounds."

Fiona smiled. "I want to squeeze her so bad."

Ethan laughed. "I know. And even when I tried to be supportive with your diet and back off on the feeder talk, you still told me all about what you've been eating and how you just want to be squished all of the time and how you wish you could be bigger. Like, I can outright tell you that I refuse to talk about any of it, and you still tease me. So, whatever. Maybe you're destined to be a fat girl forever, but it's not like you have to worry about it for the rest of your life. I love you. I love your body. And the people that are going to give you crap for being fat said the same shit when you were 180. At least now you can enjoy this fetish stuff and have a happy life with me."

"Is that what you want?"

"It doesn't matter what I want."

"But it does. Because you're the one that's going to have to get a seat belt extender for your fat girlfriend. You're the one that has to sit with me while the doctor lectures me on how unhealthy I am. You're the one that has to wait for me while I huff and puff my fat ass up the stairs. You're the one that has to help me to the car because I ate so much I can hardly walk."

Ethan interrupted, "And I do all of that willingly, because I love you. I'd still marry you if I had to physically carry you up every flight of stairs for the rest of our lives. I just want you to be happy."

"I want you to be happy too, babe."

"Fiona Bee, I am happy. Now it's your turn to tell me what you want."

Fiona scooted over to Ethan and hugged him.

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  • 1 year later...
Ethan woke to the sound of a vibrating phone. He slapped his hand on his bed-stand, only to swing at nothing but air. No lamp. No alarm clock. No table. He opened one eye and looked around. Their mattress was surrounded by cardboard boxes and a conspicuous lack of furniture. His sense of confusion lingered for a few more seconds until Ethan remembered that they were moving everything to the new place over the weekend. He was supposed to be packing. He was supposed to be awake.
 
Ethan grabbed his phone off the floor. It buzzed in his hand, giving yet another alert that he hadn't checked his notifications. With a flick of his thumb, a couple of texts from Fiona bounced up onto the screen.
 
"Do you want me to bring home dinner tonight?"
"Last day!"
"So excited! Everyone is wishing me luck!"
"Are you up?"
"Are you up yet?"
"ETHAN"
"You gotta pack goof"
"If you don't wake up I'm going on a diet"
"If you don't wake up I'm not going to stop eating"
"ETHANNNNN"
 
He typed out an answer, "Yes, babe. I'm up." Ethan rubbed his eyes with the back of each palm, tossed the phone onto his pillow, and got up. In the time it took him to walk across the bedroom and change into a clean t-shirt, a grey bubble had popped up under his message. He yawned and grabbed the phone as it vibrated. 
 
"FINALLLY," Fiona replied.
"I was up late last night getting all of the video games and books together. Only one of us had to get up early today."
"Last day of work babeeeee"
"I know, babe. <3"
"And you are such poop soup. You weren't up late working. I checked your open tabs."
 
A twinge of shame ran up Ethan's arm straight across his back. Lately, he had been browsing in incognito mode and kept that stuff to himself. Not that it was anything out of the ordinary, but it seemed like the right thing to do. He had been taking a break from moving boxes and sorting books to read through some feederism posts on tumblr, and the evidence should have been discarded with a closed browser window, not discovered the next morning while he was sleeping. And if anything, in his defense, it was more research than wank fuel.
 
After their conversation in the hotel, Fiona had started off on an ostensibly secretive adventure of her own. She took over the food shopping to allow Ethan "extra time to focus on his new job" and even tried to cook a few meals for herself. He never thought anything of it, except that she was going along with the season of giving, until he started preparing for the move. It's not exactly easy to hide a clandestine operation in a one-bedroom apartment, and during packing, it's practically impossible.
 
A week into December, Ethan found a crumpled receipt and the remnants of a cake batter box shoved to the back of the pantry. He followed the clues to Fiona's closet and popped open the flaps on the cardboard box she was using to collect outgrown clothes. Buried beneath a season's worth of discarded garments was a black jug and a small notebook. What was in the black jug was obvious - it was marked with a shiny orange label that read "weight gain powder and appetite stimulant." Ethan took a deep breath and flipped open the notebook.
 
Inside, Fiona had written out a list of numbers. It began with 284, continued with a bunch of seemingly random tallies and ended with 360. Ethan ran his finger along the paper until he found where she wrote "12/25 - 3125 21875 306." Despite the conversations when she'd flitted back and forth between wanting to gain and wanting to maintain, those numbers looked suspiciously like a plan to pile on weight in record time. 
 
Ethan figured that the idea made sense. After all, Fiona had repeatedly teased the idea during past hot and heavy fantasy sessions. And the holidays would allow her to push her appetite into overdrive without any obvious consequences, since everyone was too busy trying to enjoy themselves and avoid noticing their own holly jolly gluttony. Her figure could expand at an expedited pace under cover of baggy sweaters and her bulky parka, at least until she could go shopping for a size up in the new year. Everything clicked into place in Ethan's mind, but what would make her hide this from him? Why not tell him?
 
The lonely apartment offered no answers, so everything was placed back as it was, and Ethan waited for Fiona to offer an explanation. Which, surprisingly, never came, not even once the results of her gain seemed all too obvious. 
 
That specific night was nine days later, the night of the holiday party thrown by Fiona's coworkers. Ethan spent most of his time introducing himself to random people, listening to various chit-chat about what it meant to be a medical professional and trying to keep track of where his girlfriend went whenever someone offered her a drink. After the sixth disappearance, he felt a tug on his wrist and was dragged into the nearest bathroom. Fiona stood before him, chubby cheeks flush red, clawing at her upper back. 
 
"We have a problem," she whispered.
"What?"
 
Ethan looked down at her to witness the unfolding competition for fabric that was happening between Fiona's ample bust and swollen belly. Her dress had become stretched to the breaking point, but it was unclear which stitch would be the first one to go.
 
Fiona poked her boob and said, "My bra is ripping."
"Is that bad?" Ethan replied.
She shot him a look, but didn't raise her voice. "Yes, it's fucking bad."
"Okay, okay, I'll grab your coat, and you can tell everyone that we have to leave early, because I've got work in the morning. It's almost ten, and that's true anyway, so, yeah."
 
Fiona nodded, paused and made a weird face. Ethan thought it looked halfway between a wince and a sour look, but when she didn't immediately stop doing it, he realized that it was her way of trying to breathe deep to calm herself down without putting too much force on her dress. He smiled and put his hand on the bathroom door. "Ready?"
 
She nodded again, and they navigated through the house to the back bedroom, where everyone had dumped their outerwear. The room was dark, but it was easy enough to find his greyish pea coat and her black leather jacket still where he left them two hours earlier. Ethan slipped his arms through the sleeves and turned around to see Fiona struggling to zip up to hide her potential wardrobe malfunction. It was the first moment that he believed that while his squishy girlfriend wasn't "super-sized" yet, the possibility had become an eventuality unless she abandoned her secret stuffing plans.
 
Without looking up, she muttered a barely inaudible word, "Help."
"How?" he whispered.
"Just help." Her soft words had no panic or frustration. It was an ambiguous request, offered breathlessly with a sticky, sweet flavor.
 
Ethan put his hands on her warm, plush hips, hoping that this was the moment she came clean. "Tell me."
 
Fiona bit her lip and rested her hands on his forearms. "Help me," she repeated.
"How?"
She gently pressed her weight against him and tilted her chins up as they embraced. He kissed her deeply and seized two full handfuls of her sumptuous butt. The recent growth spurt had settled mainly in her chest, but his fingers had spent enough time exploring her massive rear to notice a difference. They both responded to the sensation of her new, luscious fat by grinding together, her wobbling middle against his stomach and hard cock. 
 
She let out a throaty whisper, "Help me. I'm still hungry."
"How?"
"Get me home, wrap me in a blanket and cuddle me. Keep me close to you and feed me until I get winded. Fall asleep in my arms, and wake up, and make me double breakfast."
 
They stood together in the darkness, in silence, until she kissed him and repeated, "Help me."
 
And Ethan did just that. He gave her a hand with the zipper, walked with her around the party to offer farewells to the guests that he had met and dutifully waited by the door, holding her purse while she went to say goodbye to her friends in the kitchen. It took him a minute to suspect that it wasn't going to be a short round of hugs, and in response, he pulled out his phone and read through a few articles. Finally, a half hour later, Fiona rounded the corner, a bag filled with tupperware in hand, and apologized for making him wait.
 
"You okay?" Ethan asked.
She smiled and replied, "Uh, yeah. They knew I was avoiding my mom, so we, uh, we had a few desserts, and..." Fiona groaned and held out the plastic bag. "It's time to go."
 
Ethan stepped to Fiona's side and took the bag of leftovers from her, but also ran his other arm against the side of her belly. It felt like someone had force-fed her an oil drum of custard. Her taut gut had gone from tense against the jacket to a globular, unpredictable muffin-top that tested the strength of the leather. Which might not have been a problem if she hadn't zipped the jacket up tight to contain her always heavy but now heaving bosom. Fiona responded by clenching his hand and practically dragging him, at a forceful, plodding pace, to the car.
 
Once out and alone in the winter air, Ethan smirked and tried to make light of her situation. "Well, you always worried that you'd never be an E-cup."
Fiona snorted. "I haven't worried about that in a while."
"I don't think there's anything we need to worry about, anyway."
She moved against Ethan slightly, bumping him with a hefty bit of upper arm chub and her butt. "You think so?"
"Yeah!" he replied.
 
They arrived at the car, and Ethan helped Fiona into the driver's side. Once she began to settle in and adjust, he opened the door to the back seat and secured the bag of leftovers next to some books and a shoe-box that may or may not actually contain shoes. But before Ethan could close the door, there was a pop and a noise that sounded like a popcorn bag bursting. He darted back to Fiona's side, and her face appeared even more red and winded than before. 
 
Up across her left boob, there was a tear in the seam of the leather jacket where he could see right through to her dress. It wasn't obvious until later that she had also broken her bra, but to Ethan, that was far less impressive than, say, his girlfriend literally exploding out of her clothes because she was pouring thousands of calories into her tits through her greedy lips. He wordlessly placed his fingers on the busted stitching, examining the extent of the damage, until she exhaled fully and popped the hole open to the top roll of her belly pudge.
 
Fiona looked up at him and groaned, "I'm not an E-cup."
 
Their quiet, intimate drive home was indeed followed up by everything she wanted, which, in turn, was followed by two helpings of breakfast in bed, but an explanation was never offered. So, it was after that night that started Ethan off on reading up on similar situations with other gaining girls, whether they were real women or fictional feedees in comics or stories. (His favorite, as of late, had been Kastemel's ongoing comic, Eclipse.) And it also gave him something to do during his breaks from preparing for their impending move to a suburb near his new job.  
 
When they weren't out celebrating the holidays with friends, Fiona had let Ethan pack up the majority of the apartment, with the exception of her stuff in the bedroom. Normally, she would have been all over the task, insisting that Ethan shouldn't do it alone and that they had to evenly split a list of chores related to the move. But what happened instead was that Ethan put on some music, got to work and had a great conversation with his lounging lady as she snuggled up in a blanket. In between fistfuls of chips, cheese and chocolates, she tapped on her tablet and told him about all the places she wanted to check out once they got settled in the new city.
 
And when he needed someone to get the door or hold some tape, Fiona would dust her fingers off on her giant thighs, rock her ass back and forth a few times and wobble up out of her chair to give him a hand. Her boobs jiggled free of a bra, keeping the fabric tense against her skin. Both of her chunky butt-cheeks shook and bounced, vibrating sweatpants that had gone from baggy to almost leggings. Her gain had even gotten to the point where she didn't bother to pull down her shirt as she shimmied across the room.
 
"Why bother," she quipped, "when the belly doesn't want it to stay down?"
 
So, yeah, it was fair to say that he had become fully immersed in her new lifestyle, both online and off.
 
"Are you going to tease me about that now?" Ethan replied.
"No feasting."
"What?"
"Oh god I typed teasing and it auto-corrected to feasting. Even my phone is obsessed with food."
Ethan laughed to himself. "You are a bad influence."
"Bad? I am great in every way. Feasting for everyone!"
"Love you too, babe."
"Shit need to go love you"
 
Ethan walked into the kitchen and put on some coffee. The floor was cool on his bare feet, and the place was a mess, but he couldn't stop himself from smiling. Even considering the unexpected gain, Fiona was in a good place, and he finally felt like he was enough for her. Not because of his new job or success with his writing or how healthy he'd become in the absence of stress, but because he believed he deserved his pleasant little life. It all felt tangible and solid, a welcome emotional refuge after years of uncertainty and instability.  The future meant more of the same, and he could handle that.
 
But no amount of hope could be a suitable substitute for curiosity.
 
Ethan flicked over to his phone's browser and scrolled through posts and updates of feeders, feedees and plus-size models. It wasn't so much a habit, or at least that's what he'd tell Fiona, but more of an ongoing project of sorts. Any and all interesting information about feederism or gaining was examined and mentally filed for later use. It was research. Sexy research. Something to think about while he packed, because while Vanessa and Bill had been an interesting anomaly in their lives, for the most part, Ethan had no idea what to expect from Fiona if she kept gaining.
 
Before, there was always the pictures - those serendipitously discovered images of Fiona's previous life as a fat girl - that signaled what would come next. But now, he was witnessing something new every day, exploring the unknown. He tried to find larger girls that looked like Fiona on tumblr or Instagram, but after a week of looking, he had given up. There were too many possibilities. Her overfilled hourglass shape might continue to fill out until she turned top-heavy, or maybe that would slow down and leave her looking like a pear with a lot to spare. Fiona's way of plumping up everywhere and smoothing out in all the right places was typical when she was gaining slowly, but now that she was gleefully pushing past 300 pounds, it wasn't so easy to guess what another twenty, thirty or even fifty pounds might look like.
 
After all, that's what could be between his fingertips in another year, or hell, by the summer at this rate. 
 
The hours spent trying to predict what Fiona would look like come bikini season gave him a lot to think about, but it also gave him a greater appreciation for what was. He didn't want to wank to thoughts of an SSBBW Fiona, or any other bigger girl, ever. In a weird way, his wants had changed as she did.
 
It's not that he didn't enjoy watching her fatten up. Ethan's desire to feed and dominate his adoring feedee was still there, but it hadn't been the same since that time before the holidays. Even finding her notebook and watching her bust out of her leather jacket hadn't changed that. Fiona was his partner, now and always, and if he was truly honest with himself, she was enough. It was all enough for him. The curiosity bubbled up with arousal, subsided with the flow of normal life and appeared again during daydreams and meditation, but it was no longer the sustained itch, the point of contention, that it once was in their relationship.
 
Maybe his blinding lust and need for control had gone away now that Fiona was well and truly a fat girl. Or maybe it was because there was enough else on his mind. Either way, there was a new sense of security that he felt as he grabbed a thick handful of her belly fat and gave it a gentle shake. Life would be better for them both, and at the end of the day, they could always lie in bed while he squeezed the squishy love of his life. The desire would always be there, but Fiona had become so much more to him than any one thing.
 
Ethan dumped the coffee into his tall travel mug and made his way back into the bedroom. He sat on the floor and looked over at one of Fiona's giant stuffed animals. "Think she's over 315 yet?"
 
The speckled grey plush offered no response.
 
"You know, maybe this ongoing investigation has to do with my inability to accept the new status quo, because for years, I've wanted to date a girl that gains, like actually gains, like doubles her weight, and now, I don't have to worry about that anymore, so I'm left with all of this extra time clunking around in my head with nothing to stress out over."
 
Still, no reply.
 
"Humans are stupid like that. All I ever had to do was love her and accept her for who she is, and everything would work out fine. But if it isn't complicated enough, we make it harder as we go along, even when have what we want."
 
He took a sip of his coffee and smiled. "No, she's definitely, definitely, well over 300."
 
Ethan chuckled a little and booped the stuffed animal on the nose. "Yeah, I kind of wonder what's going happen after tonight too."
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While this story doesn't quite have the theme and tone I prefer when it comes to fun, smutty, weight gain fiction, it is definitely a cut (or more than a cut) above the norm in terms of readability and overall technical merit as fiction writing.  Bravo for that! 

I'm curious, what brought you back to this story over one year since the last addition?

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22 minutes ago, riptoryx said:

While this story doesn't quite have the theme and tone I prefer when it comes to fun, smutty, weight gain fiction, it is definitely a cut (or more than a cut) above the norm in terms of readability and overall technical merit as fiction writing.  Bravo for that! 

I'm curious, what brought you back to this story over one year since the last addition?

Thanks. I'm not much of a writer, so I'm pretty glad to hear that I don't suck at it.

The reason why I came back to this story is because I've never written anything else. I started this with a rough outline and kept going once people seemed to like it, without much thought put into the fact that I practically wrote a novella (it'll probably finish up at about 22k words) without trying. That, and well, I was dating someone at the time that encouraged me to write about my feelings regarding feederism and the weird disconnect between feeling very powerful and confident in the bedroom but not elsewhere. Both Fiona and Ethan know what they're doing sexually, and they go after that, but he's an anxious mess and she's an angry fussbudget. It was cool to run with that while she was in my life, but she broke up with me, and that put an end to my writing. I went on and did other things, but after a while, it seemed dumb to not finish the one thing I've written.

I don't know if I'll write more, but I'd like to finish the next two parts of this story. If I do write more, I hope it'll get the theme and tone right, but I guess that's a personal preference thing. (i really don't know; this is new to me, despite having a year to think about it.)

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4 minutes ago, macman0 said:

I don't know if I'll write more, but I'd like to finish the next two parts of this story. If I do write more, I hope it'll get the theme and tone right, but I guess that's a personal preference thing. (i really don't know; this is new to me, despite having a year to think about it.)

Thanks for the explanation.  Writing something of this scope seems like it almost has to come with a lot of personal investment, not least of all because of the sheer time commitment involved.  The relationship intermingling you mentioned just adds a whole new dimension to that. 

I do hope you strike upon the right combination of enthusiasm and opportunity to see it through.  It'll probably be a major individual effort to complete, but the end result will be an enduring gift for the rest of us, as well as a monument to your own creativity. 

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Thank you, again. That's really too kind.

I wish I could say that there was a lot of personal investment, but since I've only written the one thing, it feels less important to me. I've spent more time playing games on my phone than I have writing, which made it easy to give up on. But that's, frankly, a shitty way to look at it, and so, I'm here to write the three final parts I had outlined. And since I've already posted one of the three, I hope it'll be easy for me to keep going and finish the other two. (If, for whatever reason, there needs to be more, I can add an epilogue, but the Ethan part of the story is almost over. I know most people will never read this story for anything but Fiona, but hey, whatever.)

The relationship intermingling was hard. Maybe finishing this will be a good thing; maybe not. I'm trying not to overthink it.

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52 minutes ago, kastemel said:

Oh man! I'm so happy to see there's more of this. It was super surreal to see my name dropped in the middle of it, I appreciate the shout out though!

You mentioned a while ago that you enjoyed reading it, and I forgot if I sent you a thank you at the time, so I went with working it into the story. That, and your stuff is awesome. So, thank you.

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  • 6 months later...
"Shit need to go love you"
 
Fiona finished tapping out her message and quickly jammed her phone into the front pocket of her scrubs. Her post-lunch belly pressed hard against the fabric, making it a tight squeeze, but she was able to hide it away and begin cleaning up after herself before the storage room door opened. With a swipe, two empty bottles of meal replacement shakes fell into the trash, along with the wrappers left from Fiona's lunch. But as she reached on top of the fridge to grab the melting cups of ice cream, the door opened behind her.  
 
Only to reveal Brittany, blushing and bloated, with two cups of ice cream in her hands. 
 
"I've been looking all over for you," she told Fiona. 
"You didn't think to check our usual hiding spot?"
Brittany huffed and offered an ice cream cup to Fiona. "Well, it's your last day. I figured you'd be, I don't know, like, out and about."
 
Fiona laughed. "Nope. I'm in and not about that." She turned around, swapped the cold ice cream cup from Brittany with one of the three melting on the fridge, and got them both a spoon. Brittany immediately tore the lid off the plastic and dug in, while Fiona made a small opening and began to sip while she watched. 
 
The two women had become quite a sight since the summer, with Brittany plumped up well into the plus-sizes and Fiona on the brink of exploding out of her clothes thanks to her rapid gain plan. Each sported a visible belly outline across the front of their scrubs, complimented by the telltale ridges of panty lines where their fat asses met taut scrub bottoms. But where Fiona had kept her extreme curves, Brittany had gone globular. Her whole middle had formed a spare tire that seemed to be kept firmly in place between a heavy pair of boobs that rested on her belly and hips that made the Puerto Rican beauty glad that her work uniform had an elastic waistband. 
 
"How did your date go?" asked Fiona.
"Mmm. So good. He took me to Cheesecake Factory and for a second dessert that place with the little glasses..."
Fiona gestured with her spoon and swallowed the last of her ice cream. "Cake shooters."
"Yah, yah, that place. And then we went into the mall, because, get this, he ordered me a dress."
"Really? Did he ask for your size?"
 
Brittany, with cheeks stuffed with ice cream, gave a noncommittal head motion. After a few seconds and a hearty gulp, she replied, "No, he just got three of the same dress in different sizes."
 
"Smart guy." Fiona laughed as she snatched another ice cream cup off the fridge. But as she spun around, her pendulous behind bumped the counter and sent a ripple straight through her soft core outward to her doughy middle. The wide bulge that was her belly rarely caused her such trouble, unless she was food drunk and swollen from stuffing, whereas her big butt, well, that was another story.
 
In the past month, her ass had grown so significantly that Ethan had started to complain about her right butt-cheek rhythmically bouncing against his left leg and disrupting his stride whenever they went for walks. Her elegant solution was to simply lean into him from time to time, smushing her side fat into his crotch. It was fun, wobbly and had the added benefit of leaving him speechless for a moment.
 
Fiona thought about it as she poured the second cup of melted ice cream into her mouth. Her expanded posterior was what she had wanted since the beginning of her gain - a giant, fat booty to pop out of the bottom of her panties and sit atop her thunder thighs. Sure, Ethan had become accustomed to her other needs, with morning and night sessions of sucking on her tits as he played with her fat, but the added pounds that drifted down to puff out her sizable behind felt like they were just for her. Or at least as just for her as they could be, given that she was now almost twice as wide as Ethan.
 
"I mean, it sounds like he's a man that knows who carries the weight in the relationship," added Fiona, as she pitched another empty plastic container into the trash.
Brittany smiled. "He is really something. I can't believe I was worried."
Fiona stifled a laugh as she opened her third cup of ice cream. "Like I said, some guys like knowing that you're comfortable. It gives them a sense of relief."
 
Especially with that junk in your trunk, she continued, thinking to herself. Brittany didn't exactly have the same amount to throw around as Fiona, but it was obvious to see that their hangout sessions had made an impact. The previously chubby CNA had grown right out of her Kim K jeans into plus-sized leggings and maxi skirts. Not that any wardrobe changes could do much to hide the girl's ever-expanding thighs and that giant gut. 
 
Fiona wiped the corner of her mouth and added, "And it's not like he doesn't already have the dress in a bigger size."  
The two ladies shared a laugh, followed by a hug. "I'm going to miss you, Fiona."
"I'll miss you too. But you can always call me on break. We'll share a snack in different zip codes."
 
As the girls separated, Brittany looked down and went a little red in the face again. Fiona's belly had bounced up and broke free of its scrub bottom constraints. But before either could say anything, Fiona calmly slid her chub back down underneath her shirt and tight waistband before continuing to sip her melted ice cream. Maybe it would have been an awkward moment a month ago, but now, she treated it as nothing more than an inconvenient side effect to her rapid gain. Confidence, maturity and the sticky, sweet taste of chocolate had beat out remorse and shame. Fiona knew what she wanted, and it no longer matter who knew it. 
 
But that's not to say that Brittany did. In response, she grabbed a handful of her belly fat and sighed. "Yeah, until tía has me cut back on the ice cream."
Fiona snorted. "Tell her that fat's in this season. And hey, it's America - everyone wants a badonkadonk."
Brittany patted her butt. "Glad I fit in for once."
Fiona responded with a smirk and a gentle hip bump. "Yeah, girl. You got it."
 
And it's not like she was the only one. During their last couples dinner with Vanessa and Bill, the quartet had cracked open some wine left from New Year's and drunkenly rambled about what made them most happy about the coming year. It gave Ethan a chance to stand up on his chair and tell them how much Fiona meant to him, but it also meant that Bill could sheepishly admit, in so many words, that he was glad for his wife's holiday gain. Vanessa was pushing a solid 240, all thanks to Fiona's guidance and a few friendly nudges.
 
-
 
Shortly after returning from the city, Fiona had told Vanessa the news over lunch. While Ethan was busy with work and the move, she had planned to gorge herself until either her weight plateaued or time ran out. Vanessa wasn't at all shocked by Fiona's confession, but she still had quite a few questions to ask as the pair devoured four shared meals and two desserts. In time, the questions turned into curiosity, and intentionally or not, Vanessa started to take over where Ethan left off. 
 
During their first night together at the apartment, Fiona chugged three quarters of a cake batter weight gain shake before she collapsed, bloated and moaning, onto Vanessa's lap. They took turns rubbing Fiona's belly until she fell asleep, when Vanessa tempted fate and finished the rest of the shake. It was heavy and delicious, a small taste of Fiona's usual routine. Not enough to encourage substantial growth, yet just enough to cause Vanessa to wake Fiona up for a drive to get them some late night snacks. 
 
From then on, Vanessa encouraged Fiona's overindulgence the best way she knew how - friendly competition. Burrito Tuesdays became a regular thing again, and for the first time in years, the two even exchanged clothing. Or, more like Vanessa casually borrowed a few things once she realized that all of her fat clothes were getting too snug, and Fiona's response was to double-down on her expansion adventure. The weight gain powder was gone by Christmas, so the ladies took a trip to the mall to buy two more containers, only to spend most of the day sampling what the food court had to offer. And there was even that one night at Vanessa's when they got drunk watching Jessica Jones and had an impromptu taco eating competition.
 
Fiona won, as always, but Vanessa did so well that she kept on eating even though she burst a seam on her pair of Fiona's hand-me-down pajama pants.
 
By the time their couples dinner rolled around, Vanessa had shifted from friendly feeder to unexpected feedee. Her face had gone almost circular, with plump cheeks and an unmistakable double chin. Each of her thighs was now bigger than her waist was in high school, and her butt had positively ballooned, to the point where it would have made Fiona jealous, if only she wasn't so focused on her own posterior accomplishments. The thick sweater Vanessa wore stretched to fit her plump upper arms, but beyond that, it seemed to fit well everywhere else. Fiona took it as an obvious sign that Vanessa wasn't in denial about her growth, and that maybe there was more to come throughout the rest of the winter.
 
When they finally had a private moment away from the boys, Fiona tried to strike up a conversation about the possibility, but Vanessa shrugged off any serious discussion. Bill was happy enough with her giant ass, and no one dared get her a gym subscription for the new year, so that was that. 
 
Since then, the ladies had swapped snaps and talked on the phone, but neither had time for another dinner date. It wasn't until Vanessa stopped by the previous night to drop off some cardboard boxes that Fiona got a good look at her growing friend. 
 
Specifically, her bulging belly.
 
When Ethan and Vanessa dropped the moving supplies onto the couch, Fiona went in for a hug that quickly devolved into poking and prodding. There couldn't have been more than an extra five pounds there, but it all seemed to accumulate right between Fiona's probing fingers. Ethan sighed and went into the bedroom to give them some space, while Vanessa tried to smack away the unwanted attention. 
 
"Could you not?"
Fiona simply giggled as a reply.
Vanessa groaned. "Fine, but this is only because you won't see me again for another two months."
Fiona bolted upright, keeping her tiny hands clamped to Vanessa's side fat. "A month, tops."
"Dude, you'll be lucky to be mostly unpacked in a month."
"All you need is the couch to sleep on!"
 
Vanessa gestured to the futon. "Yeah, my fat ass isn't fitting on that."
"I'll get you an air mattress."
Vanessa hugged Fiona. "Girl, just get where you need to be. When it's not fucking freezing out, then we'll talk about how I'm going to drive all the way to the city to crash on a inflatable pool toy."
"I'm going to miss you."
"I'm going to miss you too."
 
Fiona held back tears, closed her eyes and squeezed her friend as tight as she could. At least until Vanessa made what sounded like a noise of disapproval.
 
During their embrace, Vanessa's stomach had flubbed up out of her leggings and poked out from under her sweater. Fiona longed to grab that soft, white pudge, but given how embarrassed Vanessa looked as she hefted up her pants and put her fat back into containment, she instead decided to go into the kitchen and do what she did best.
 
"Want a shake?" Fiona asked.
 
-
 
The pleasant memory fell from Fiona's attention as she dropped a stack of binders on the counter of the nurses' station. She tugged down hard on the front of her top, hoping that it would keep her contained for the final half hour of her shift, even though she was starting to feel a bit of a chill on the underside of her chub. It wasn't immediately obvious if that was because of her boobs pulling the fabric up or her swollen stomach pushing it out, so for good measure, she gave it a second tug as she went to check on what everyone was doing. 
 
On the other side of the counter, three of the older nurses were talking something over with Deirdre. As Fiona moved around to see what they were huddled around, the group stood up and broke into celebration, revealing a giant pile of fancy donuts. One of the nurses hugged Fiona, while another handed her a sealed envelope. Fiona thanked them both, and before she could take another step, Deirdre handed her a small plate with two donuts stacked on it.
 
"Thank you for being you," she told Fiona. "We're all going to miss you."
Fiona teared up and hugged Deirdre. "Thank you for being there for me."
"Of course, dear. You are worthy of all of the love and kindness in the world."
"Thank you. You too. But, I mean... thank you."
 
The impromptu going-away party continued as other nurses came and went, wishing Fiona well as she munched on both donuts and went back for seconds. But before long, a pointy finger jabbed into Fiona's back fat and caused her to spin around before she could think about what had happened. What greeted her was a scowl and an unexpected sight.
 
It was, after all, her mother. Her angry, judging mother, come to mess up what was left of her afternoon. 
 
But Fiona never expected to see that the tiny woman had, well, gotten a little less tiny in the time that she had been avoiding her. A layer of fat had plumped out her face, producing chubby cheeks and a double chin to match. Her supervisor's uniform looked like a sausage casing, pulled taut over every inch of her chunky figure. And while no one would dare call her plus-sized, Fiona's mother had certainly eaten her way into a look that could be best described as "severe allergic reaction."
 
"Where have you been?" asked Fiona's mother.
Fiona tried to look casual as she swallowed the last bite of her third donut, but her eyes remained wide open. "I've been passing on everything to other staff, so that the facility won't be any less effective after I leave."
"You have not left yet. You are still here."
"Yes, I know. I punch out in a few minutes."
"So, you think the best use of your time is eating?"
 
Without any hesitation, Fiona's mother leaned forward, extended her arm and poked the girl's wide belly. The finger sunk in a little farther than either expected, and Fiona balled up her free hand into a fist before it was withdrawn.
 
Fiona clenched her teeth and tried to smile. "As I said, I was aiding staff by discussing what would happen after I left. Management, as you know, got the two weeks notice they requested, and all of my paperwork is perfect."
 
Her mother said nothing. The two stood in silence, waiting for one another to make a move, before her mother finally uttered, "Perfect?"
 
But before Fiona could reply that, yes, all of her paperwork had been checked, double-checked and filed correctly, her mother grabbed a chair with a messed up wheel from the nurses' station and shoved it towards Fiona. With a gesture to the chair, she continued, "Show me."
 
Anger flooded Fiona's mind. She wanted to scream or swing, or both. But that's the way it always went. Nothing was ever good enough. There was always some reason to fight. And it was expected that Fiona would stand there and take it, until she snapped and did something that made her feel like she was a crazy monster, lost to rage and fear.
 
Fiona exhaled, hard. "Of course." 
 
She sat down on the busted chair, placed her plate on the desk and began to type. All of her reports were there, as promised, with not a one incorrectly coded. Fiona gestured to the screen, only to have her mother brush her arm away while she went in for a closer look. But before the situation could be defused, her mother, possibly off-balance due to her own holiday indulgences, stumbled and grabbed Fiona's shoulder. Their combined weight plus the impact caused the office chair to let out a hiss and sink to the floor, which, in turn, caused Fiona to lean back violently, snapping the wheel off the chair. Her mother tumbled onto her, bouncing past her boobs and ending up with a face full of belly and thighs.
 
It was certainly enough of a commotion to get the other nurses' attention.
 
Fiona's mother pushed off the broken chair and stood up with a snarl. "Look what you did."
"I'm sorry that happened. It was an accident." Fiona kept her voice low and slowly made her way to her feet. But as she adjusted her shirt, her mother gestured at her too closely, flicking her in the boob.
"That is no accident. I wore the same scrubs through all of med school. You can't get through a month without getting a bigger size. You think you can destroy the things where I work and run off with your boyfriend? He won't want you. You are fat. You are going to come back here and beg me to work again."
 
Fiona took a deep breath and relaxed her hands. None of this was about her weight. Or, if it was, her weight didn't really matter. What upset her mother was that she was leaving, to find a better life, to find her happily ever after ending with Ethan, and the argument was already over. Things had changed a little when Fiona had moved away from home, but now, there was no disputing that her mother had lost all control of the situation, had lost all control over her. Neither of them could deny it. And this would be their last fight about it.
 
Fiona let her muscles relax and shrugged. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but I love who I am. And I love my boyfriend. If you want to talk about this at another time, that's fine, but I'm not going to do this in front of everyone with you."
Her mother snorted. "You cannot tell me when we talk."
"Mom, I love you, but you're wrong. And yes, I can. "
 
The two stood there for a moment, in silence, until the older nurse came over to remind Fiona that it was time for her to clock out. Fiona thanked the woman and turned back to her mother, who had since thrown her arms across her chest and crossed them tight. No hug today, Fiona thought. But maybe things will be better in the future.
 
Fiona walked off to gather her things and leave for the day, while her mother grabbed the abandoned donut and stormed off in the opposite direction to her office. 
 
By the time Fiona snapped back to reality, she was almost out of the building. All that was left to do was to walk past Carol, the receptionist. 
 
As Fiona reached for the door, Carol looked up from her magazine and said, "You look look nice today, Fiona."
"Hey, Carol?" Fiona replied.
The receptionist grinned and dramatically placed her magazine down on her desk. "Yes?"
 
"Kiss my fat ass." 
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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 4 weeks later...
The apartment was cold and dark, with only a few streaks of light coming in from the street. Outside, Fiona fumbled with her keys and tried to open the door while holding her backpack and a grease-stained bag from McDonald's. With a click and a thunk, the door swung open to reveal a bunch of stacked boxes, but no Ethan.
 
"Babe? You home?" Fiona called out.
 
No reply came, so she dropped her backpack by her desk and stretched, raising the bag of food up over her head. As the scent of the apple pies drifted past her nose, her belly flubbed up above her waistband again, exposing soft flesh to the cold air. A chill ran up her back, giving everything a good shake as she tugged her shirt down over her stomach. Fiona poked her head around into the hallway, giving one last look to see if Ethan was around, before turning up the thermostat and bouncing toward the kitchen.
 
Originally, Fiona had planned to give Ethan a bit of a surprise, a special treat for the both of them after her last day of work, by picking up two burgers and six apple pies on her way home. But the traffic was bad, and the trip was a little longer than usual, so only four apple pies had made it. Which was, by her estimate, still enough to have some fun with some food and foreplay, except for the fact that Ethan was now nowhere to be found.
 
Fiona tacked out a message on her phone. "Babe where are you?" Then, she jammed her phone into her tight shirt pocket and grabbed a bottle of soda and some whipped cream out of the fridge. 
 
Everything else in the living room seemed to be either covered in books or boxes, so Fiona dumped her snacks onto Ethan's reading table and plopped down into his chair. With the heat on and her feet up, she uncapped the soda and began to chug straight from the bottle. Fiona used her free hand to check her phone, but after a minute, there was still nothing. No message. No dots. Totally unlike Ethan, but maybe he had to run out to get more moving supplies or something.
 
Fiona mentally shrugged and figured she'd start without him.
 
She began with placing the remaining four pies on her huge thighs, leaning back and spraying a generous amount of whipped cream into her mouth. The first pie went down quickly, as she punctuated each bite by topping it off with a little more whipped cream, with the empty box tossed on the coffee table. The second was more of a struggle, since it was actually her fourth, in addition to the burgers and the celebration donuts. Her belly, taut and firm, pressed hard against her scrub top, to the point of where her fat was spilling out underneath it. For the final two, Fiona held the pies together, sprayed some whipped cream between them and smushed them into an improvised sandwich that she could cram into her mouth. And with a grunt and a few deep breaths, she did just that.
 
Cheeks packed with apple pie and cream, Fiona leaned forward a little to reach for her soda. But all that managed to accomplish was to squeeze her swollen gut against her shirt, busting the left seam open against her side chub, exposing pudge all the way up to her white undershirt. She swallowed, exasperated, and sighed. "I guess it's a good thing it was my last day."
 
Fiona looked down to survey the damage, instinctively massaging her belly with both hands. Her round middle, now stuffed to maximum capacity, had burst free and was sitting heavy in her lap, with a familiar ache that meant she had gone for too much too fast. She rocked back and forth twice, but the pain made her think better of it, and instead, she settled down into the comfy chair. It was, after all, quite pleasant to enjoy a full belly and a warm apartment after a long day of work...
 
-
 
An hour later, Fiona wobbled awake from a hazy dream. She looked around, trying to make sense of what was going on, and realized that Ethan still wasn't home. Each breath, heavy and warm, inflated her midsection, giving her a pleasurable sensation and lulling her back to sleep. But before another nap claimed her, she reached for her phone. It had slid down off her belly in her sleep, and was now pinned between the chair and her right hip. 
 
With a grunt, Fiona tried to move herself to the side, but all that resulted was an extended tear that ran right up the side of her shirt, completely ruining it. She sighed in response, remembering a conversation she had with Ethan a few days earlier.
 
It started when her phone chirped, displaying an e-mail from an office near their new apartment.
"They want me to interview in person when we get there," Fiona said.
"That's great, babe!" Ethan replied.
 
He was, again, packing up whatever they wouldn't need in their last week before the move, while she worked on finishing the pizza they had for dinner. But when he turned around to look at her, she wasn't smiling.
 
"What's wrong?"
"I'm just worried."
"About what? I thought that you said that everything was great with that place after the phone interview?"
Fiona winced. "Yeah, but... I don't know."
"Babe, you don't have to take it. We'll be okay for at least a month, and there's other stuff out there."
"No, I mean, that's not it. The job would be great."
"But?"
"I don't know if I should work there. Especially since it's a block from our new place."
"Why?" Ethan asked. His look of confusion seemed sincere enough to Fiona that he really didn't get it.
 
Fiona took a swig of her beer, finishing the bottle. "The exercise, babe. Being on my feet. At least in the facility, I have to be up and about all of the time. Doing paperwork all day in a office might not be the best thing for me, especially if it's that close to home."
"Oh."
 
Ethan started chewing his lip as he walked into the kitchen, mindlessly performing a task that had become routine as of late. He took another beer out of the fridge, popped off the cap on the bottle opener next to the stove and placed it down in front of Fiona. "We could walk after work."
 
She pointed at the beer. "That would be my third."
"Huh?" Ethan snapped out of his daze. He was too busy thinking about solving her problem to consider how he might be contributing to it.
"Thank you, babe." Fiona took a sip of the beer. "Are you sure you're okay handling all of this packing by yourself? You seem stressed."
He smiled. "I've dreamed about this for a long time, Bee. I'm just all in my head, trying not to freak out because it's really happening."
Fiona tapped her lips. "Don't freak out, babe. We're going to be okay."
He kissed her and went back across the room to resume fiddling with a roll of tape and a box that would inevitably be labeled as 'miscellaneous.'
 
"I just don't want you to take a job you don't want to do. I did that for too long. Okay?" Ethan said.
"I won't. I'm just worried too is all."
"About what?"
Knowing what she wanted to say but unsure of how to say it, Fiona opted instead to jam the rest of the last slice of pizza into her mouth. She reclined back, putting her free hand on her belly as she curled up. Ethan shot a look over at her, concerned. 
 
Feeling like she had to say something, Fiona mumbled with a full mouth, "I might not lose the winter weight."
Ethan ran his hand through his hair. "Is that what you want?"
She only shrugged as a reply.
 
"Babe, if you want to lose some weight, we can do that."
Fiona swallowed. "I'm just saying."
 
Ethan tossed the packing supplies on the couch and kneeled in front of Fiona. Her round face, puffed out from weeks of holiday treats, framed by her thick, shoulder-length hair, was a few inches from his, close enough to see the details in the creases where her eyelids met her chubby cheeks. He smiled and placed his hand against the side of her neck. Fiona giggled and sunk back into her chair. "Cold!"
He laughed. "I'm sorry."
"You so aren't."
"I am. Here." He put his hands in between her massive thighs. "Help me make them warmer."
She squished her legs together and wobbled her lower half for him. The chair creaked softly under her weight as she shimmied, just loud enough for Ethan to hear it. Yet another thing getting too small for her, he thought.
 
"Thanks, babe," He continued, "But you've been doing... great with... accidentally gaining these last few weeks. It's been... " He slid his right hand up her thigh. "It's been fun. But if you're worried about something, you can tell me. We're starting something new, together, and we both deserve to be happy, right?"
 
Fiona smiled and stared down at her belly. "We'll be stable, and that's good enough for me."
"You know that's not what I mean. I'm going to keep going until we can do better than just surviving. I mean happy. Like, happy happy."
"Nobody gets to be happy all of the time."
"I love you too, Emo Kid."
"And you know what I mean."
Ethan chuckled. "I do, I'm sorry. But I'm saying that I want you to have the life you want, and I don't want you to be worried. Maybe not happy, but content."
 
At a glance, Fiona appeared to be the dictionary definition of content. Six slices of pizza and two beers in, she was testing the fabric of her sweats, to the point of resembling a bulging pudge ball that was gently placed in Ethan's reading chair and allowed to expand to fill it. She was soft. She was warm. She was fat. Or as it seemed - content.
 
Fiona laid her hands on his wrists. "Do you know what habituation is?"
"Are we about to have a conversation about neurological processes?"
"Maybe."
"Then, yes. It's how the mind adapts to novel events."
"Yes. So, when I first started gaining, you set up a feedback loop for me. The more I ate, the more I grew, and the more I grew, the happier you were, so I would eat more."
Ethan made his nervous face. "I mean..."
"No, babe. It's okay. I'm trying to work through this with you. We're just talking."
"I know, but..."
"Listen, if I'm too wide to fit into one seat on a plane, that's partly your fault. You don't have to be sorry or ashamed of that, but it is the truth. I never thought I'd want to be this big before you."
"Okay." Ethan whispered, before he swallowed her words, hard.
"No, listen. Babe. Babe?"
"Yeah?"
 
"Listen to me - I wanted something different, and together, we turned some of my bad habits into a major part of our relationship. We worked it into our sex life. We worked it into our friendships. We worked food into a lot of what we do together, because my new comfort zone is filled with snacks. And it takes more for me to feel... like, not full, but... satisfied. Like, I've wanted more ever since I got more. It's a rush for me."
"Is that okay?"
"It feels amazing, and I love it, but I keep wanting more." Ethan tried to keep a straight face in response to that, and it cracked Fiona up. "Come on, you poop."
"What?"
"You're doing that stupid boyfriend deer-in-the-headlights thing instead of responding honestly."
"Me being confused can be me being totally honest."
 
Fiona shifted into more of an upright position and grabbed his wrists. "Okay, so, feel this." She put Ethan's hands up her hoodie, under her heavy boobs. "I had, like, let's call it a holiday growth spurt. I broke my favorite leather jacket, because while the rest of me got wide kind of evenly, someone didn't give my chest the message."
Ethan shook his hands a little, just enough to see her tits jiggle under the fabric. "That's obvious, babe."
"Okay, yeah, but do you know what it's like to go to the gym with huge boobs?"
"Do you?"
Fiona rolled her eyes. "Uh, shut up. What I'm trying to say is that I'm never going to lose this weight unless I exercise, because this is my new normal. And if I don't lose the weight, I have to keep active to not gain more."
"Because of habituation."
"Yes. Like, imagine if I was purposely gaining weight, and all I did was sit here every day."
Ethan smiled, but didn't laugh. "I think I can imagine that."
Fiona bit her lip and looked away from him. "If I did that, I would have to stop, eventually. Because of my health. Because I don't want to be immobile. But it might be really hard to stop." She pushed his hands down off her boobs onto her wide belly. "In theory."
"In theory," he repeated.
"Yeah. So, if I had another job where I was on my feet a lot and kept active, I'd be able to stay healthy and that might help me maintain my weight, because I'd have to do it. I'd have to."
"And if you worked in a small office near our apartment, that would be bad."
Fiona pushed his hands into her warm, soft stomach chub. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I'm already close to needing new scrubs."
"Again?"
"Again."
Ethan grabbed her belly fat with his right hand and began rubbing with his right. He leaned over Fiona, moving closer for a kiss, but it wasn't close enough for her to meet his lips. She tried to stifle a groan, only for her to exhale hard from her nose. He lingered for a moment, waiting for her to say something. Fiona figured that she was caught, that he would launch into an interrogation about why she couldn't make it that last inch, why she kept growing even after the holidays, and it would be another awkward argument between them about something she wasn't entirely clear about herself.
 
But Ethan said nothing. And he did nothing. He merely waited to see what she would do next, while he ran his fingers over her swollen middle.
 
Fiona leaned forward once more, but she still couldn't sit up enough to kiss him. "Come closer," she begged.
"Always."
 
Ethan gave Fiona a hard kiss, running his fingers up her sides, moving across her rolls. When he had his hands against the sides of her boobs, he put his face against her neck and whispered, "You are the brightest star in my sky, Fiona Bee. Do what makes you happy, and I'll always be there for you."
 
-
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  • 8 months later...
Back in the moment, Fiona let Ethan's words echo in her mind as she crawled up out of the chair to her feet. The room had warmed considerably since she got home, and that meant that it was far less of a priority to ditch her ripped scrubs for her sweats. But before she could decide what to do next, she noticed the uncapped whipped cream canister standing on the table. She forgot to pop it back into the fridge after devouring her pies, possibly because Ethan had been so on top of those types of things lately. Not that she was intentionally making him clean up after her, but he had been enabling her gluttony in little ways for some time now, and it had all become a sort of routine.
 
"Whatever," she said with a shrug. The best way to clean up food was to make sure there was nothing left to leave out. Fiona picked up the can and sprayed it right into her mouth, gulping down cream over and over again, until the nozzle sputtered and tossed white blobs onto her lips. She took a minute to catch her breath, feeling her chest rise and fall heavily, with the hope that Ethan would walk in and catch her there, stuffed and ready for him. The rhythmic motion of her full belly turned her on, like a good habit gone bad, and she slipped her hand past her pudge under her waistband. Warm and wet, but no Ethan.
 
Fiona stood there, listening to the sound of her deep inhales and long exhales, feeling the movement of her middle, waiting for something to interrupt what was about to happen. And yet, nothing did. No Ethan. No snarky secretaries. No disapproving mother. Just her.
 
As a response to the silence, Fiona took off her ripped shirt, tossed her bra onto the chair and with one forceful motion, took down her bottoms and panties, leaving her naked but for her warm, blue socks. "Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
 
The feeling had her.
 
She made her way into the kitchen with a sort of sashay that wobbled her gut and heaved her ass from side to side. A walk that, ever since her recent gain, Ethan described as "an engorged lioness stalking her prey." Which Fiona thought was funny, in retrospect, but the comment didn't stop her from purposely doing it as often as she could, because it made her feel sexy and powerful while also somehow powerless. She had given in, as she had so many times before and would so many times more in the future, which only made the walk from the living room to the kitchen feel that much more incredible.
 
The plan for the night had been to order takeaway, since the fridge was nearly empty in preparation for the move out, but Ethan made sure there was still enough around to satisfy her cravings until they bought snacks for the ride out. Fiona guzzled down the remainder of the heavy cream, tossed the carton in the trash and started on what was left of a pumpkin pie. From off the kitchen table, she snatched the remainder of a bag of sour candies, tucked some holiday snack mix under her arm, pressed the side of the tin against her face to allow her to lick the pie filling as she walked, and strutted into the bedroom.
 
If Ethan wasn't around, at least she could climb under the warm covers and stuff herself until she passed out again.
 
In the darkness, Fiona dropped the bags onto the bed and let the metal tin clatter to the floor as she practically inhaled the last three bites. All she could focus on was how good it felt to eat, how good it felt to turn that delicious pie into luscious fat. She threw back her hair and gasped for air as she rubbed the sides of her belly with a circular motion that made her wobble. It was a heavenly rush made mundane due to her recent behavior, but it still felt amazing.
 
After a deep inhale to get her mind right, Fiona regained her composure and flicked on the lights. 
 
On the bed, under her snacks, was a dress left spread out on the top sheet. A floral print dress that Ethan had gotten her at the end of summer on a whim, even though she swore she would only wear it that one time to try it on. It was the source of a minor argument between them, with her telling him not to buy it because it was way too big for her, and him, being Ethan, as stubborn as ever, insisting he get it for her. He must have found it while packing and maybe left it out as a joke, she thought. I mean, it must be a joke, because there's no way she could even get it past her boobs now.
 
Fiona laughed. "Fuck it," she said to the dress with a smile.
 
Fiona grabbed the dress off of the bed and slipped it on around her ankles. With a grunt, she tugged it up over her thighs against the bottom of her ass, where it met considerable resistance. Each movement jiggled all of her bits, which, given how fat and full she was, started to feel uncomfortable quickly. She slammed her palm on her dresser, looking for respite as much as she needed the stability. 
 
And if it wasn't for the pain from her in her tits and stomach, the experience would have been an intensely pleasurable one. Maybe Ethan had intended for her to dress up in it before she spent the day binging. Or maybe he really was telling the truth about not noticing how much she had gained so much so quickly.
 
Fiona reconsidered the attempt, grabbed her extra bra from the dresser and tried again to see how much of herself she could stuff into the summer dress before she (or it) gave up. With a series of slow, forceful tugs, she managed to get the fabric up over her giant ass and took another break to pour some holiday mix in her mouth. Maybe she couldn't make the dress into anything more than skirt at this point, but there was no sense depriving herself while she fussed with it.
 
About a minute later, with a mouth full of salty, sweet snacks, Fiona managed to get the dress up over her wide stomach, where it would seemingly go no further. Each tug produced no results, except for the sound of the dress giving up against her weight. Which, as far as Fiona was concerned, was good enough for now. She collapsed back onto the bed with a smirk, retiring to her original plan of lazy gluttony.
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