Laura's Embarrassment

[arch329]

Spring had sprung, and so did the button on Laura's jeans - her "fat" jeans. This happened right in front of her boyfriend, whose jaw literally dropped. These were the ones that she could wear after subjecting herself to a bout of gluttony, when her boyfriend would feed her until she could no longer move without discomfort and even breathing took effort. These were the pants that she bought so much bigger than they needed to be that they were fail safe for her to be able to wear no matter how much she had eaten the night before. And now her efforts to get them on had required laying down on her bed to get them buttoned. And then trying to sit up caused that button to give up the task. This left Laura with nothing else that could fit except for some dresses with accommodating waist bands, with the exception of a pair of sweat pants that were now so tight that they look painted on and even those dug in to her blubber balloon of a belly, creating two globular balls; a kind of upper belly and then her lower belly. Her boyfriend asked if she needed help, but he was late for work, and so she said she could handle it.

It was that lower belly that was causing her the most difficulty lately. While it was true that this eating escapade had been her boyfriend's idea, she had exceeded both his expectations and his desires. When she had said yes to indulging to feed his fetish, he had hoped for her to gain maybe 50 pounds; enough to go from slim to officially overweight and just under obesity. But she had surprised him. Unleashed from her years of careful eating and exercise to maintain her slim figure at 125 pounds, Laura's weight exploded. At her last weigh in, she had seen numbers that surprised even her: 231 pounds. She had now exceeded the secret goal she had set for herself, which was to gain 100 pounds. She had sailed right past that goal, making it seem almost inconsequential. Now she was wondering what her goal should really be. Logic had immediately suggested the doubling of her original weight, making it 250 pounds, but was that really an ultimate goal, or merely a number along the way? She realized she didn't know.

But that lower belly. She had learned how to manage being so much bigger with the way that she dressed, her current dilemma with nothing left to wear excepted. She had learned how to avoid long walks that made her inner thighs rub to the point of discomfort and stairs that made her gasp for air. She had learned to ignore the looks that she got from friends and family when she was taking that third serving, only made possible by first unbuttoning her pants. Even her boyfriend, the guy who had encouraged her to start on this journey, had asked, "Isn't having to unbutton your pants the signal that it is time to stop eating?"  She had learned to ignore the looks that she got from strangers when putting bags of cookies and chips into her cart at the supermarket or ordering a large shake and a double cone at the ice cream store: she had learned that more scoops than two tended to melt too quickly and get messing. She had learned that her appetite was better satisfied by the cone followed by the shake. The fact that she would be consuming more than 2,000 extra calories simply made her confident that she would hit her goals, if she could figure out what they really were. And how she loved ice cream. It was almost the perfect food, since she could eat so much of it and only feel full for a little while, where binges of foods that were harder to digest could leave her feeling uncomfortable for hours afterwards. She had learned that ice cream allowed her appetite to return in half the time. 

But that lower belly and its accompanying FUPA were causing a problem that she had not been able to solve, and it was causing friction with her boyfriend. Yes, his fetish was well served by his being able to shake her ocean of belly fat, grab her back fat that had exceeded any definition of simply being "love handles," and holding on to her ass that was achieving impressive dimensions. But her lower belly was creating a problem.

As her waist disappeared and was perhaps too quickly replaced by this balloon of blubber that wrapped around her midsection, new logistics in love making had been required. For the first 50 pounds or so, it was simply the fun of having something more to hold on to or rub and then something more to push against. The next 25 pounds or so started suggesting different positioning; finding that angle that was easier. The last 25 pounds to her goal, which now turned out to be the last 31 pounds and no longer the goal, had been different. The challenge now was finding ways to work around that belly. With her on the bottom, her belly had to be pushed up to get access, and mounded up so as to be out of the way meant that he really couldn't lay on top of her. He had learned that his body could do the work of holding it out of the way, if he positioned himself correctly, but it was a lot of weight and took effort. With her on top, it was better when she leaned back. This gave him a great view of her fat, jiggling body and avoided squeezing the breath out of him, as happened when she lay on top of him. Who would have thought that gaining only 106 pounds could make such a difference. Mounting her from the back was best when she stayed on her knees, since with her larger ass, access was a stretch if she was laying on her belly. As challenging as putting her weight on top of him could be, she had learned that, if she had eaten recently, which was pretty much the standard, even laying on her own belly could be difficult.

Her boyfriend had always enjoyed going down on her, but he was finding her thicker FUPA and that hanging belly a problem. It just always seemed to be in the way. Having Laura have to hold her belly back interfered with her being able to focus on her pleasure. Her boyfriend had tried using his head to push her belly back, but that put strain on his neck. If she was kneeling over him, her hanging belly smothered him. They had even experimented with a  form of bondage, creating a kind sling to hold her belly in position. She could tell that this extra effort in love making was taking a toll on her boyfriend. Their frequency had dropped and the length of sessions had shortened. She could tell that he was starting to wonder if this feeding his fetish had been such a good idea. After all, his desires had been well served with the first 50 pounds. He had expected resistance from her to gaining more. He was still into feeding her - that hadn't changed, but what he wanted to do after an eating session had changed. In the beginning it was foreplay for him. Now, with making love requiring so much more effort, he simply wasn't so quick to want to jump her when she was bloated to the point of that belly being taut and spherical. He did enjoy that her oral fixation included using her mouth on him and he was turning to that as his sexual release after feeding her more and more lately. Unfortunately, for Laura, that often left her feeling unsatisfied, which seemed at time to prompt her look for a snack after servicing him, despite the reality that she was still totally bloated. He even joked with her one time as she was heading back into the kitchen to get some cookies, suggesting that she have a very thin wafer, reminding her of the scene in the Monty Python movie that has Mr. Creosote literally exploding when he is offered a very thin wafer after totally gorging himself.

However for Laura,  in a kind of Pavlovian training, binging had become sexual for her. As she got fuller and fuller, she would get wetter and wetter. She had grown to love sex with her belly inflated to the point of pain. And as she grew and grew and was getting fatter and fatter, this meant a bigger and bigger belly. They had finally figured out that there was really only one position that worked when she was now in that condition, which had her belly approaching 60 inches around after a serious binge. They had measured. In their new position, Laura would lay near the edge of the bed with her legs over the side and spread wide enough to separate her thighs. If her thighs were still even partially on the bed, there was no way to keep them apart and they would flow together denying access. Hanging free, she was able to make room between her thighs. They would tie up her belly with the sling, to pull it away from her crotch. With pillows under her ass, she was at a height that enabled her boyfriend, standing at the edge of the bed, to slide into her without resistance. He did admit that he enjoyed being able to play with her belly in this position, but he also had complained that it seemed more like he was servicing her, instead of making love. Still, they were both able to get off this way. Laura had admitted to him that her full belly in this position seemed to pull up on her FUPA, creating a kind of tug and pull as he slid in and out that was a total turn on.

The night before the button had popped off of her fat jeans, after making love this way, Laura had commented that, if her ass got fat enough, they wouldn't need the pillows. She thought that would have been fetish talk for her boyfriend, but he didn't say anything. She even thought maybe he had kind of shuddered at the comment. Laying in bed that night, she started wondering if she could be getting too fat. She fell asleep trying to figure out how models that she had seen on web sites handled sex with their larger bodies. Jaye was simply huge at more than 500 pounds. Boberry had actually recently crossed 600 pounds and Lainalia could even be flirting with 700 pounds. As she was drifting off to sleep, she was thinking how skinny she actually was. After all, she had hundreds of pounds to gain before she would be in that company.

But that was not the real problem. It was with her lower belly for other reasons. This was a problem that only she had experienced and she found it too embarrassing to discuss with anyone else; even her boyfriend. When she and her boyfriend had started on feeding his fetish, it was him feeding her. They would arrange dates around feeding escapades. Sometimes this would be his buying things and feeding her at home to the point of discomfort. Other times it would be a kind of wandering smorgasbord, with him taking her to restaurant after restaurant and then to an ice cream store and finally to a bakery, so that it was a movable feast. This maintained an illusion that seemed almost normal at each place. They had experimented with all you can eat buffets, but found that these could be awkward, as he brought more and more plates to her, and then had to help her waddle out when it became hard to walk. She hadn't admitted it to him, but she had found the looks that they would get from the other people at the buffet a turn on. While this started as his fetish, it was quickly becoming hers as well and she was starting to think that nothing could embarrass her; not the comments from her family, or her wisecracking friends, or the stares and whispered of strangers.

But as over eating and the feeling of being bloated had become her fetish, she had started binging on her own. She had not admitted this to her boyfriend and was actually careful to conceal it, although she wasn't sure why. She seemed to like it being her secret. She had perfected this to fit into their schedule so that she could pack in an extra meal picked up a fast food restaurant on the way home from work and still be able to be impressive with consumption at dinner two hours later. She carried wipes and breath freshener in her bag so that she could remove the signs of the extra meal. She had found hiding spaces in her closet so that she could conceal a box of cupcakes or twinkies and sneak them when she got the chance. After one of their feeding sessions, she had only been able to finish half of a coconut custard pie. In fairness, it was following a lot of other food. Still, that half a coconut custard pie was calling to her in the morning when she woke up. After she finished it, she realized that it would be something that her boyfriend would notice and she was trying to protect the illusion that he was the feeder and she merely accommodating him as his feedee. Disappearing half pies could be a clue to him that she was binge eating on her own. In a rare burst of energy, she hurried down to the store and picked up a matching pie. Of course, the deception was not yet complete. She then ate the half of the new pie so that there was the same half left. It was only because she had to get to work that she had the discipline to stop before finishing that pie, as well. Half pie left in the fridge ready for him to feed to her that night: deception complete.

But the problem with her lower belly. The one that she found too embarrassing to discuss with anyone else, including her boyfriend. That large hanging belly, a victim of gravity, covered her FUPA. Even if she was laying down, it had gotten so big that it was hard for her to reach herself. When she would binge privately, blowing her belly up to the point that she was totally turned on, it had become difficult for her to pleasure herself. This made her aware of how fat she was actually getting and how much a slave she had become to food. She embarrassed herself that watching a television ad for the juicy flame broiled burgers at the fast food restaurant could get her juices flowing; even if she was sitting completed stuffed on the couch after a good feeding. It was as if her appetite was connected to a sensory condition that no longer involved her stomach. In fact, there were times now that it was her boyfriend who, when her belly would be so round that it looked like she could literally pop and her breathing had been reduced to shallow panting, would decide to not feed her more, even if she was claiming that she could still eat. She could tell that he was starting to get worried, and that was a little embarrassing.

But that was not what embarrassed her the most on that morning when the button had popped off the pair of pants that she had intentionally purchased with the thought that they would fit her no matter how fat she would get. She decided that she needed to buy new clothes quickly, since she had almost nothing left to wear. She called in to say she would not be there, since she was not feeling well. Dressed in too, too tight sweat pants - pants so tight that you could see the cellulite on her ass and thighs, she called for an Uber to take her to the mall. After they pulled up, she wobbled her butt across the seat to the curb side door, which she could tell the driver was watching in the rear view mirror. As she struggled to get herself out the door, the strain proved just too much for this poor pair of sweats and the seam over her ass suddenly split wide open. The driver couldn't help himself and burst out laughing, which caused the group of skinny college bound girls standing on the sidewalk to glance over, just as Laura turned her ass away from the view being enjoyed by the laughing driver, so that it was pointing directly at them. Realizing that they were watching this pig in a girl suit, who had just burst out of sweat pants that any two of them could have put on at the same time, they burst out laughing. This of course called more attention to the scene and there was no where that Laura could turn that would not put her ass on display for somebody. If only she had not overeaten her way out of being able to fit into any of her underwear several pounds ago. After what was only 15 seconds, but seemed like an hour to Laura, a nice looking young man came to her rescue. He walked over to Laura and offered her his sweater so she could tie it around her waist to cover her ass. Standing there in full blush, with the sweat from the effort and experience dripping off her face, she thanked him. He asked if she would like to join him for breakfast in the food court. Startled at first, Laura regained her composure and told him that she would join him there in fifteen minutes, after she had been able to pick up a new pair of pants and change, so she could return his sweater. He agreed, but parted with a recommendation, "Make sure you get something that gives you some extra room. This mall has a great food court." 

Popping buttons off of pants in front of her boyfriend and splitting the seam on her sweatpants in public made her feel like an over stuffed pig. But her thoughts as she walked into the store to get something to wear was that it could make  sense to pick up sweats in a couple of sizes: those for now, those for later, and then those for the future. After all, breakfast was waiting and she already knew that this mall had a great food court.

 

[[email protected]]

 this is awesome 🙆‍♀️. Certainly turned me on !! Was this bad on true events?

[arch329]

I guess in many ways it is based on true things that I have seen happen, but this is fiction. I wrote it for a competition that one of the Curvage models posted and it is based on her story as I have gleaned it from what she has posted, with some artistic license. For example, there is nothing that her boyfriend has posted that would suggest that he is surprised by how fat she has gotten, since I think it is him in the video force feeding her. She asked to be humiliated. I have a tough time with the idea of humiliating a women for her looks, particularly if it is her getting fat, but that was what Laura asked for. This is what she posted:

"u guys are making me so fat, and I was so slim, Tease me about what a pig I have become, I will select one comment, and the winner will get the next video for free!!, I will decide the winner on Tuesday noon 💋"

I doubt that I will win, since the closest I feel comfortable calling her a pig is a softer take. I am not big on the humiliation side of things. When I do morphs, it is to show how people like Shar and Carmen are still beautiful with added weight.

Thanks

[[email protected]]

please  could you consider illustration with some pictures and doing a follow up chapter?

[arch329]

Thanks for the encouragement. I don't do illustrations, although I have done morphs. This story is a response to a request made by the Laura who is acdc34434. She is "writing" her own story in real life and the weight numbers I used are her actual gain so far. She is also providing her own "illustrations" in the form of photos and videos. I have seen deviant artists (that is the name of the site, not a comment on the artists) who do get into illustrating stories and I would be game if there is someone able who wanted to do that. A recent example was posted on Curvage in the Stories section by Conjohn as Haley's Gain. Eight chapters have been posted and it doesn't sound like Haley has finished her gain. @godo7, who I think posts on DeviantArt did the illustrations that start each chapter. My only critique of his illustration for Chapter 8 is that I would imaging Haley's FUPA to be more distinct under that sized belly.