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Cyril Figgis

Nicole - The Roundest Rugby Player (NEW CHAPTER 5/9/2021)

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((Art done by the wonderful Kynes!))


Nicole was bursting with excitement as she stood among her new teammates at Cape Fear University, barely paying attention to the coaches as they talked to the rugby club.  Ever since first picking up the sport in high school, she knew that she wanted to pursue it into college, and Cape Fear’s year round club activities allowed her to do that.  She aced her tryouts and secured herself a spot as the club’s new Number 8, which surprised many given the diminutive Latina barely crested 5 feet.  What she lacked in height though, she made up with grit and was not afraid to get into a scrap—a trait that had left her with a scar under her left eye and a broken nose three times over.

Now, she was eager to make her name on a new battlefield with a new assortment of sisters in arms.  The girls came from all different walks of life, but all of them looked like they were ready to bust heads, especially the one beside her.  She was of average height and had chestnut hair pulled back into a ponytail, but what really stood out to Nicole was the girl’s bicep tattoo—a snake coiled around a flower.

Perhaps she was staring for too long, because the owner of the tattoo smirked and told her, “Like what you see?”

“Whu?  Oh, yeah, sorry,” Nicole mumbled, a pink tint building in her cheeks after being caught.  “It’s really cool…what kind of flower is that?”

“Larkspur,” the other girl explained as she gave her arm a flex, warping the tattoo.  “And the snake is a corn snake.  It’s a little thing to let people know that looks can be deceiving: the corn snake might look dangerous, but it’s totally harmless; the larkspur, on the other hand, is toxic as hell.”

“That is so cool,” Nicole remarked.  She extended a hand to her teammate and introduced herself.  “Nice to meet you, Larkspur.  I’m Nicole Valdez—no tattoos yet, but I’m working on it.”

The brunette stifled a chuckle and shook Nicole’s hand.  “Ashton Michaels, and if you need any tips, I’ll see what I can do for you.”

After the coach finished talking, the captain got up before the other players, which brought out the raucous spirit in the team.  Nicole went with the flow and hooted for the redhead that stood before the other players, though she marveled at her physique as well.  The captain was statuesque, with arms that threatened to tear through her sleeves and thighs that could crush pumpkins.  Add in the steely glint in her eyes, and she looked tougher than several men Nicole knew.

“Brick-top!  Brick-top!” the girls chanted as their leader took the stage.

After waving her teammates into silence, Bricktop looked out over the motley crew and said, “My name is Laila Braun, and I’ve led this team to victory for the last two years—and I’m fixing to make it a hat trick with my last year here.  We’re the Cape Fear Bruins, and when you play for us, you need to be as tough as a mama bear protecting her cub.  The ball is our cub, and if anyone lays a hand on our cub, we need to teach them a damn good lesson.  Anyone afraid to get rough out there?  Then this isn’t the place for you—I need warriors if we’re going to win state again.”

“Fuck yeah!” Nicole shouted without a second’s hesitation.

It was only when she realized that all eyes were on her that the Latina shrank back, a bashful grin on her cheeks.  She glanced to Ashton, who was biting her lip to keep from bursting with laughter, but her other teammates had no problem sharing in her mirth.  They patted Nicole on the back and tussled her hair before Laila quieted them down again with a clap of her hands.

“Love the spirit, Baby Bear, but let’s save it for the field,” the redhead chuckled before she got back to her speech.  “All right, we’ve got our first practice tomorrow, so let’s make sure we’re starting off the fall season with a bang!  And remember—parties are for winners, so if you want a Cape Fear-style bash, you’d better bring your A-game.”

After a few more words from the coaches, mostly about NOT partying, Nicole looked to Ashton and asked, “Want to grab a bite at the dining hall?  I’ve got the afternoon free.”

“Sounds good to me,” the brunette answered with a smile.

Before they could leave though, Laila walked up to the pair with her eyes set on Nicole.  She clapped the shorter girl on the shoulder and greeted her, “Hey, Baby Bear!  Looking forward to playing with you this year.  I hear you’re our new Number 8?”

“That’s right,” Nicole replied.  She sincerely hoped that nickname would not stick.  “Can’t wait to get out on the field.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Laila hummed before glancing over to Ashton. “And you’re our new scrum half, right?  You look it, with legs like those.”

Ashton blushed at the mention of her stems, and Nicole took the opportunity to glance down at her teammate’s lower half.  While she was nowhere near as built as Laila, the tattooed girl had healthy legs that filled out her jeans all the way around.  Not wanting to get caught staring again, especially in this case, Nicole averted her eyes back to her team captain, who looked at the duo with pride.

“Well, I am stoked to have you two here,” the redhead remarked.  “Say, how about I treat you two to lunch?  I know the best spot off-campus.”

Nicole and Ashton shared a glance and a shrug.  Both were still fresh to the university and the area at large; any chance to learn more about the locale would be good.  Laila took their gestures as approval and said, “Then to the Brickmobile!”


The Brickmobile turned out to be a pickup truck that was caked in mud from bumper to bumper and drove like a shopping cart with a rocket strapped to it, making the two freshmen fear for their lives all the way to their destination.  Said destination was a diner called The Trolley Stop—a fairly small building that made up for the lack of room inside with plenty of outdoor seating.  The girls opted for a seat on the patio, where they could take in the sea breeze and bathe in the sun.

“This is the life,” Laila sighed after taking a long whiff of the summer air.

“You said it, Laila,” Nicole hummed, reclining in her seat as she melted under the sun.  While the rugby club was her main reason for picking Cape Fear University, the fact that it was right on the coast was a close second.  She had assured her mother that she would not spend all her time at the beach, but the temptation was strong, especially on a day like that.

At the mention of her name, the team captain perked up and shook her head.  “Laila’s only what the coaches and teachers call me, Baby Bear—you call me ‘Bricktop’, savvy?”

One of Nicole’s eyebrows cocked up at the reply, and she answered in turn, “Well, maybe you could knock off the ‘Baby Bear’ stuff?  I already get enough guff about being fun-sized, and I sure don’t need my team picking up on it.”

“I’m just calling it like I see it, Nicky,” Bricktop replied with a shrug.  “It’s how we roll on this team: you make a name for yourself or you roll with the one you’re given, and since this is your first day, I work with what I’ve got.  Like, I don’t know anything about Larkspur here, so that’s what I go with.”

Ashton chuckled, “Seeing as you got the flower right on the first try and skipped the snake, I’ll take it.  And Nicole, think of this as incentive to show them what you’ve got.  You could go from ‘Baby Bear’ to ‘Bruiser Bear’ or something like that.”

“We’ve already got ‘Bruiser’ covered, but I’d like to see you try and take that from her,” the captain replied with a smirk.  “You’ve got plenty of time to figure out who you are on the team, Nicky—don’t sweat a nickname.”

Maybe it was just a nickname for Bricktop, but for Nicole, who stopped growing at 5’1”, it was a slap in the face.  She had gotten plenty of short jokes back in school, first about her height and then about her fuse after beating up more than a few kids for the former.  It did not help that she was slightly chunky, with a plush stomach that was soft to the touch, legs that shook with every step she took, and cheeks that had a permanent dimple.  If she was going to be known for anything at her new school, she wanted it to be because she was the baddest bitch on the field—nothing else.

“Y’all ready with your orders?” asked the waitress after bringing a round of sodas.

“Let me get the pepperjack chicken sandwich with some waffle fries,” Bricktop answered as she passed over her menu.

“I’ll do the shrimp po’boy with a side salad,” said Ashton.

Nicole did one more look through the menu before her eyes fell on the most decadent sounding dish.  She pointed to it and asked, “Could I do the Deluxe Bacon Cheeseburger with a side of…let’s see…how about sweet potato fries?”

The waitress scribbled down the order and asked, “You want to make that a buffalo burger patty?  It’s our special for the day.”

“Oh, yes please,” Nicole answered with a lick of her lips.

After the waitress left, Bricktop turned to her Number 8 and smirked, “Sure hope you brought your appetite with you, Baby Bear—the burgers here are beastly, and I’ve seen the buffalo burgers take down football players twice your size.”

Nicole narrowed her eyes and leaned on the table as she retorted, “I might not have much in height, but I can eat damn near anything.  In fact, I’ll make a bet with you: if I can eat everything on my plate, this ‘Baby Bear’ crap stops right here, right now.”

The boast earned a guffaw from Bricktop, who said, “Challenge accepted.  But if there’s so much as a crumb left over, I’m making sure you’re Baby Bear for life.”

Thoughts of the challenge ahead were tossed aside while the girls waited for their meals to arrive, and the freshmen learned a little more about the school and the team.  While they had both been through orientation, Bricktop’s description of the town was much more colorful than the sterile version painted by the university-assigned mentors.  The team captain pointed out all the best bars in town, the classes to avoid, and the best spots on the beach to score—both in terms of substances and in terms of sex.  And then there were the parties that the rugby club hosted, which sounded like nothing less than pure, unadulterated hedonism.  The pictures she showed them from the team’s private server were like every party movie rolled into one and cranked up to the max.

“I guess the rumors about Cape Fear were true,” Ashton remarked as she scrolled through the many pictures of Bacchanalian debauchery on Bricktop’s phone.  “I mean, I had no idea there were so many different ways to chug from a keg.”

“And that was just what we did for Earth Day—you should see what we do when we win a game,” the redheaded rogue chuckled.  “You ladies are in for an absolute treat after the first week of practice, because we’re going to celebrate something fierce.”

At last, the food arrived, and Nicole was stunned by what was placed in front of her.  The Deluxe Bacon Cheeseburger was the size of a hockey puck, stacked with three strips of jalapeno bacon and applewood bacon apiece, slathered with bacon mayo, and stacked high with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and fried pickles.  The sweet potato fries were nestled in beside the mountain of a burger and had a cup of chipotle ranch for dipping.  If seeing was believing, then Nicole firmly believed that she had bitten off more than she could chew.

“S’matter, Baby Bear?  Eyes bigger than your stomach already?” asked a very smug Bricktop, who flipped a waffle fry into her mouth.  “Just FYI—if you doggy bag anything, you lose.”

Nicole took a hard look at the burger and wondered if it would be a good idea to call it quits then and there, but Ashton patted her on the shoulder and gave her a thumbs up.  “You’ve got this, Nicky.  Remember, if you’re not afraid to get rough, this isn’t the place for you.”

A smirk formed on the Latina’s lips as she picked up the burger and brought it to her lips.  Before she took her first bite, she muttered, “Fuck yeah.”

The burger was so large that Nicole could not get each component in that first bite, and she had her mouth as wide open as she could manage.  Regardless, she hummed in culinary bliss at the myriad flavors that washed over her tongue, from the spice of the jalapeno bacon to the richness of the mayo.  She went in another big bite, then another, and before long, she was wolfing down the monstrous burger.  Spite initially fueled her appetite, but the more she ate, that determination was replaced by her love and appreciation of good cooking.  The Deluxe Bacon Cheeseburger was everything she could want in a dish, right down to the juice that ran down her fingers.

As Nicole ate, she lost track of the world around her; conversely, her teammates could do nothing but focus on her.  Both watched in stunned silence, their lunches forgotten, as the smallest member of their team plowed through a good couple thousand calories without batting an eyelash.  Bricktop was amazed at the sheer capacity of the stout Latina, while Ashton was not quite sure what she felt as she watched Nicole lick a dollop of mayo from her wrist, but she was sure to see it in her dreams.

“Goddamn…I’ve never seen anyone eat a Deluxe Bacon that fast,” Bricktop muttered as she took the first bite of her chicken sandwich while Nicole was two-thirds done with her lunch.

“That’s…yep,” Ashton fumbled, at a loss for words and finding her mouth dry.

In a matter of moments, Nicole had reduced the giant burger to chunk the size of a walnut, which she popped in her mouth with ease.  She sucked each of her fingers clean, which brought a deep blush to Ashton’s cheeks, and she then turned her attention to the pile of sweet potato fries.  Most people would be daunted by the crispy straws of starchy goodness, but not Nicole—she just looked at them like a cat eyeballing a juicy canary.

“Come to Mama,” she hummed before snatching up three, slathering their ends in ranch, and popping them in her mouth.  The sounds she made her Albrightian, not helped by the fact that she closed her eyes, curled her toes, and squirmed in her seat.

The fries were gone even faster than the burger, and before her teammates knew it, Nicole was leaning back in her chair with an empty plate in front of her.  She held back a belch before patting her stomach in contentment, sighing, “Gotta hand it to you, Bricktop: that was the best burger I’ve ever had; I’m absolutely coming back here soon.”

“No problem,” the redhead replied, stunned in disbelief.  “But holy shit, Nicky, where did you put all that?  I’ve never seen anyone get through an entire plate like that!”

“Like I said, Red, I can eat damn near anything,” Nicole boasted.  She took a long draught from her soda before smacking her lips and asking, “This place got any dessert?”

Ashton gawked, “Nicky, you can’t seriously still have room after all that!”

“Five bucks says I can,” the cocky girl assured her teammates, who, after the display they had seen, were sure to lose that bet.  Still, even though Nicole had managed to squash the Baby Bear name before it took off, she had assured herself a very unique legacy in the history of the Cape Fear Bruins…

((Now, I know what you're saying.  'What the hell, Cyril?  Another story?  Why don't you finish one of the ones you've already started, you dingus?'  First off--rude.  Second, yes, we're starting on a new story, but this one will not be as long as any of my other projects.  This puppy will run for a few months, rather than indefinitely, as has been the case with Superheavyweight Champion and Capes and Cuisines.  2021 is going to be the year I stretch my wings, and with spring on the horizon, what better time to start?  With all that said, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!))

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OK, I really like this and how it's something different for you; I love the idea that Nicole already had a sort of nickname and the dynamic with her and Ashton is really good; I love Nicky's confidence and I'm so hyped to see how this goes and how the latina develops to a lard-ass. :D Great work all around. :) 

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Nicole left The Trolley Stop ten bucks richer and a belly full of burger, fries, and ice cream, and she could not have been happier.  There were two ways to earn respect in the world—beating up the biggest person in the room or putting on a show—and since she had to play with Bricktop, she went with the latter.  Her gluttonous display had impressed the captain so much that the stout girl never heard the words ‘Baby Bear’ again, at least not directed at her.

Even if she had not been able to make it through her meal, she would have proven herself on the field soon enough.  If practice was an example of what the team could expect at games, then woe be to the Bruins’ opponents, for Nicole was a force to be reckoned with.  What she lacked in height, she made up tenfold in power and sheer determination, smashing through anyone unfortunate enough to get in her way.  She excelled in the scrum, battling her way through the mob of girls in order to get the ball out to the field, where her new best friend waited.

Ashton had proven herself to be a fast friend after their first meeting, and Nicole and she were nearly inseparable.  They would swap stories of their high school lives, bitch about their classes, and talk strategy for their respective positions.  While Nicole was a pint-sized powerhouse, Ashton was like a gazelle on the field, leaping high to catch awkward shots and sprinting at hurricane speeds.  It was this combination of skills that helped them score the first points of the fall season and helped make their mark on the team.  That was how it seemed to most people, at least.

“I just don’t feel like I’ve earned my place on the team, you know?” Nicole whined to Ashton during their daily lunch get-together.  “Like, the girls know me, but do they really know me?”

Her tattooed companion rolled her eyes as she swallowed a mouthful of chicken sandwich.  “Nicky, you’re insane if you don’t think you’ve made a mark on this team—hell, I’m pretty sure Lauren still has bruises from where you tackled her two weeks ago.”

“You know damn well what I mean,” the Latina grumbled while dipping her pizza crust in garlic butter.  “The worst thing you can do in life is leave no impact.  What are people going to say about me when we graduate?  ‘Hey, remember Nicole on the rugby team?  Oh, she was so cool—remember that time she…wait, what did she do again?  Was she the one who could count cards, or was she the one who died her hair every other week?  Good ol’ Nicole…she sure was somebody.’”

“We’ve only been here for a couple months, and we’re freshmen.  There’s still plenty of time for us to build up a reputation,” Ashton assured her friend.

“Sure, you say that now, but before you know it, we’ll be walking across the stage to get our diplomas and we’ll have done zip.  But if you build up a strong reputation now, then no one will be able to forget you,” Nicole insisted.

The brunette smirked around her soda before asking, “You don’t do anything in half measures, do you, Nicky?”

“Go big or go home, Ash,” the smaller girl retorted.  She reached down to her plate for another piece of pizza, only to find it empty.  “Crap…and I’m still hungry.  You want anything while I’m up?”

Ashton shook her head, both in answer to Nicole and in disbelief at the question.  That first meal together at The Trolley Stop had not been a fluke; the shortest player on the team really did have an ungodly appetite.  Her meals were always twice as large as Ashton’s, who was no slouch herself given that she had muscles to maintain, and Nicole somehow always found room for more.  As if that was not crazy enough, she still managed to snack throughout the day as well, when most others would be floored for hours after the belt-busting meals she consumed.

“More for me,” Nicole giggled.  “Be right back!”

As her friend sauntered off with her tray, Ashton’s eyes drifted from her meal to Nicole’s bouncy gait and she took a long look at the stout girl—purely observational, of course.  In another life, Nicole could have been the second coming of Shakira: curvy hips that swayed with each step, full breasts that turned heads, and the soft stomach of a belly dancer.  What most people did not realize was that the pint-sized powerhouse was firm as a rock under that fine layer of padding, and she was more than willing to prove it if anyone crossed her.

Over the last few weeks though, Ashton had noticed a change in Nicole’s physique—again, all because she was so astute.  Her tops and jeans seemed to be ever so tighter around her, and when she changed in the locker room, Ashton spied a slight roll forming over her shorts.  She had wondered where Nicole put away the hundreds and hundreds of calories she consumed in a day, and now, she finally had an answer.  The only question was if the gluttonous girl would realize the effects of her consumption before it was too late…


The Bruins had just won a match against the Fayetteville Falcons and were celebrating the only way they knew how—with complete and utter anarchy.  One of the girls’ parents owned a cozy beach house that was just far enough away from other bungalows to not be an issue when it came to noise, but still close enough to civilization for delivery people to drop off goodies.  This was good, as the team had a good few dozen mouths to feed and pizza was an absolute must, especially after Bricktop found Nicole and got to boasting.

“No, you do not understand,” the redhead rambled, her sixth beer in one hand and the other holding her Number 8.  “This girl is an eating machine!  I’ve seen her eat a Deluxe Bacon from Trolley Stop and go back for dessert.”

“Big deal,” scoffed Vegas, the loose-head prop.  “My boyfriend can do that too.”

The tight-head prop, Mozart, nudged Vegas in the side and teased, “That’s because Corey’s about 500 pounds and 6’10”, Vegas—he could probably eat Nicole whole.”

Nicole brushed off the sleight and told her incredulous teammates, “That burger was nothing.  I’ve got stomach capacity for days; there ain’t nothing I can’t eat.”

“A scrawny thing like you?  Please,” Vegas retorted with a poke to Nicole’s soft stomach.

Nicole had half a mind to break off that poking finger and shove it up Vegas’s ass, but before she could make a move, Bricktop took the lead and suggested, “Let’s put it to the test!  We’ve got a shitload of pizza, wings, and garlic bread tonight—let’s do it!”

The group migrated over to the snack table, which was filled to max capacity with boxes of food and made the house smell like a pizza parlor.  Bricktop cleared the way for the girls, saying, “Step aside, steps aside—we’ve got important business here!  Nicky, pick out a pizza pie and I’ll get some wings.  You want anything to drink?  Mozart, get the girl something to drink!”

While the team captain searched for a full box of wings, Nicole perused the selection of pizzas that lined the table.  It was a veritable Noah’s ark of pies, with two of every kind of specialty and several custom pizzas to suit all tastes.  Barbeque Chicken was usually her go-to, but if Vegas wanted to be an ass, then she had to go big, and there was nothing bigger on the table than the Everything Pizza.  Green peppers, pepperoni, mushrooms, ham, black olives, sausage, onions, and beef, plus two thick layers of cheese all added up to a delicious dish and the perfect thing to show off with.

“Yo, who wants to see me eat an entire pizza?” Nicole called out, receiving a chorus of cheers in the process.  Satisfied, she snatched the pizza off the table, had Bricktop place a box of wings on top, and made her way over to a table where a fierce game of quarters was underway.

“Bitches, leave,” the rowdy redhead commanded, sending the girls scurrying.  She gestured to an empty seat at the head of the table and said, “It’s all yours, Nicky—do it to it.”

Nicole wiggled her bottom as she took her seat and opened the box to reveal a pizza so full of toppings that it almost had the density of a deep-dish.  There were eight slices of the beastly pie, a dozen wings, and a can of Guinness provided by Mozart, who joined Vegas and Bricktop at the table to watch the team upstart.  A few girls gathered around to watch, chief among them Ashton, who stood by Nicole’s side and rubbed her shoulders.

“You’ve got this,” she assured her stout friend.  “I’ve seen you eat this much for breakfast.”

“Damn straight,” Nicole replied with a smirk.  She cracked open the Guinness, raised it in the air, and began her challenge with a hearty, “Salud!”

It began simple enough, with Nicole wolfing down two wings and a slice of pizza faster than anyone thought possible.  She slathered the wings in ranch dressing and did the same to the pizza crust, then chased it all down with a long draught of beer.  While she was doing her best to eat as much as possible, she was grateful for the good food; there was no way she could follow up on her promise if she had to eat dog food.  The wings had a good kick to them but not enough to turn her stomach, and the pizza had so many good flavors built in that she was not sure which her favorite was.

“I’ll bet you good money she can’t finish it all,” Vegas, still unconvinced, told Bricktop.  “How does twenty dollars sound?”

“You’re on,” Bricktop answered with a smirk.  “But that’s twenty dollars you’re fixing to lose.”

The more that Nicole ate, the more people wandered into the room to partake in the spectacle of the team’s shortstack gorging on what would take three girls to eat through.  Bets were cast on how much Nicole could take before she popped and cheers went up whenever she got through another wing or slice, but the Number 8 paid the peanut gallery little mind.  She focused solely on the blend of flavors in her mouth, getting through everything in front of her, and wiping the smug look off Vegas’s face.  If there was one thing that could fuel Nicole, it was spite.

“Atta girl, Nicky, you’re doing great,” Ashton encouraged her friend after fetching her another beer.  “Just chew, chew, swallow, and you’ll be done before you know it.”

Nicole gladly took the can and chugged a third of it before slamming it down on the table as she took in everything in front of her.  She had made it through all but two wings and three slices of pizza, which would have been impressive for most—but not her.  Though she could feel her stomach bloating like a balloon, she could still go on; she had to if she wanted to prove Vegas wrong.

“You all right there, Nicky?  You’re looking a little green around the gills,” the aforementioned taint hummed derisively.  “You could always throw in the towel.”

“Like I’d give you the satisfaction,” Nicole grunted as she shifted in her seat.

Just as the crowd thought the diminutive girl was slowing down, she proceeded to clean a wing of every last trace of meat and chased it with half a slice of pizza.  Nicole could see a wall coming up and knew she was going to hit it sooner rather than later, but she would be damned if she gave up before then.  Bricktop and Ashton had faith in her to get every last bite down, and she was not going to disappoint her two biggest supporters, no matter how full she felt.

For her part, Ashton could do little more than stand by and watch as her friend gobbled down enough for a family of four—and watch, she most certainly did.  She chalked up her fascination to being more than a little buzzed, because why else would she find the scene of Nicole shoveling down whole mouthfuls of pizza and wings so enticing?  How could the sight of a plush Latina so full that she looked like she had a basketball under her shirt be so hot?  Ashton wondered all this and more as she watched Nicole chug down the rest of her Guinness and toss the empty can into the crowd.

“How’re you feeling, Nicky?” the brunette asked as she gave her friend another shoulder massage.  “Need me to get you another can?”

Nicole stifled a belch before replying, “Yeah…please.”

In the blink of an eye, the tattooed girl vanished and returned with a full can, which she placed in front of Nicole.  The shortstack was hanging in there, but her stomach and brain were finally connected and both were telling her she needed to stop.  Sauce, both Buffalo and tomato, ringed her lips, her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes were glassy, but she still reached out for another slice and gobbled it up like a champ.

“One more slice to go, people!” Bricktop cheered.  “Let’s go, Nicky, let’s go!”

A chant rose among the drunken revelers, egging Nicole on and driving her closer to victory.  It felt like she was back on the field, powering through a gaggle of girls on her way to scoring a try with seconds to spare.  The crossbar was in sight, and all that stood in her way was a few more measly bites of pizza and a single wing.  With Bricktop riling up the crowd and Ashton at her side, Nicole took small, measured bites out of the slice and nibbled at the wing.  Her tongue was numbing from the cumulation of spicy wings and her gut felt like it was full of cement, but she still powered through and ate down to the last crumb of pizza.

Cheers broke out among the partiers as Ashton hoisted up Nicole’s hand and cheered, “She’s done it!  Nicole Valdez is your intercontinental eating champion!”

“Yaaaay,” the stuffed girl droned around faint breaths.  She would not admit it, but she felt like she was ready to pop any second.

“She done did it again, ladies and gentlemen!” Bricktop declared to the crowd.  “Let’s give it up for the hungriest girl at Cape Fear U!”

Nicole was showered with applause and plenty of celebratory pats on the back, but she felt like she was stuffed all the way up to her eyeballs.  Her blood felt like it was mostly tomato sauce at that point and all the water had been replaced by beer, and while victory was sweet, she was too full to taste much of it.  At least Vegas looked properly pissed, and that made it all worth it.

Bricktop picked up a beer bottle and held it up to the dazed girl as she teased, “Nicole, you just ate over five thousand calories!  What are you going to do now?”

“I’mma pass the fuck out,” the Number 8 groaned before letting out a deep belch.  “If I don’t throw up first, that is.”

“Hey, if she throws up, I get my money back!” Vegas contested.

“I’ll make sure she’s fine,” Ashton told the girls as she helped Nicole to her feet, which was no easy matter, since the shortstack was mostly deadweight at that point.  “Guest room?”

“Second floor, third room on the right,” Bricktop answered.  “I’ll show you the way.”

The two helped their food ** teammate gingerly walk up the steps and down the hall, where they found a quiet bedroom waiting for them.  Ashton helped lay Nicole out on the bed, which helped to drive home how bloated her stomach had become.  All the pizza, wings, and beer inside her made the Latina look absolutely pregnant; if she had a food baby, then it had to be twins.  The temptation to give it a rub was strong, and Ashton had to fight the urge to give it a feel to see just how full Nicole truly was.

“I’ll get a towel to wipe her face off, then I’ll leave you to it, Larkspur,” Bricktop told Ashton before she reached down and gave Nicole’s stomach a pat, much to Ashton’s envy.  “Nice work down there, Nicky.  You’re a Bruin through and through.”

“Fuck yeah, I am,” Nicole gurgled before sleep finally overtook her.

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38 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

Loving this story already, a pure gluttonous athlete? Can't wait till she's in the off season...

All food and no play makes Nicole a fat girl.

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The first game of the spring season should have been a lighter affair—a chance to warm up and get back into the swing of things after winter break.  No one told that to the Bruins, as they were locked in a heated battle that looked more like a street brawl than a sporting competition.  The pitch was a muddy mess, saturated by an early morning rain and then torn apart by the thirty girls that trampled through the grass like a mad pack of animals.  By halftime, the players were caked in such a thick layer of muck that it was near impossible to tell friend from foe, though at least the mud had the added bonus of covering up bumps and bruises accumulated during the match.

In the thick of it was Nicole Valdez, who hovered close to the scrum and watched the ball bounce back and forth like a hawk.  The stout Latina seized an opening, snatched the ball out from between Bricktop’s legs, and sprinted as fast as she could down the field, though she did not get far before being tackled by a blonde from the opposing team.  Before she even hit the ground, Nicole hurled the ball out to the side in what seemed like a Hail Mary, only for Ashton to appear out of nowhere to receive it.

With the heat off her, Nicole was free to do what she did best—bulldoze through the competition and clear a path for Ashton.  She rammed shoulder-first into a particularly nasty center who lunged at her friend, and then moved onto a towering brunette who stood a good foot above the shorter girl.  Like Goliath to a stone, she fell when Nicole powered through her, flattening out like a pancake as the diminutive Number 8 ran roughshod over the opposing team.

The ball flew back and forth between the Bruins as they raced to the goal line, but it was ultimately one of the juniors who got the next try.  Ashton and Nicole exchanged fist bumps as they went back down the field for the next kickoff, their chests full of fire and their faces caked in mud.  Three weeks away from the sport had been entirely too long for them, and it felt good to be back in their natural element.

“Nice run, Larkspur,” Nicole praised her friend.  “If it weren’t for that ogre at the last second, you’d have taken that.”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t have gotten it in the first place without y—um,” Ashton began before cutting herself off when she saw Nicole lift her jersey to wipe her face off.

Though it was easy enough to tell with the mud making her jersey cling to her like a second skin, it was something else entirely to see Nicole’s bare belly, especially since it was still largely pristine.  The holidays had apparently been good to her, as the once firm, toneless stomach now had a slight pooch to it—a permanent bloat that helped soften her appearance.  Her shorts bit into her plump middle, causing a lip of flab to peek over the waistband, and a faint but noticeable roll was forming around her bra strap.  On anyone else, the added pounds would have made them look out of shape, but on Nicole, it only served to make her thicker and bulkier.

Ashton was shaken from her observations by Nicole snapping her fingers in front of her.  The Latina hummed, “Yo, Earth to Ashton!  We’ve got a game to win, girl—get your head out of the clouds!  Unless you want to get trampled, get with it.”

“Right!  Right, sorry,” the bedazzled brunette mumbled in reply as she tailed behind Nicole, her eyes glued to the Number 8’s thicker backside.

As the game progressed, the opposing Bulldogs managed to catch up and eke out a lead with a penalty kick, forcing the Bruins to push for one last try with a minute to go in the last half.  They tried to give themselves an advantage with a return kick that was high and short, but the Bulldogs were not about to give up their hold when victory was so close.  Bricktop managed to secure the ball, though she only held it for an instant before passing it to Vegas, who passed it on and on, each girl hoping to find an opening but only finding a bulldog.

The Bruins drew closer and closer to the goal line, but the Bulldogs only beefed up their defense with each yard gained.  Ashton got her hands on the ball, only to be tackled to the ground and caught up in a vicious ruck as one of the Bulldogs tried to snatch it from her hands.  She held on tight until the slightest window of opportunity opened up in the plush form of Nicole Valdez.

“Get it, Nicky!” Ashton called out as she tossed the ball out to the Number 8, who took off running towards the goal line as the whistle blew.

Nothing was going to stop the girl with victory so close at hand—not even all the might of the opposing team.  She ducked and weaved around defenders but crashed into the Bulldogs’ centers, who dug their heels into the muck as they held Nicole back mere inches from the goal line.  That might have been the end of the story, had Mozart and Vegas not run up behind Nicole to back her up and create a maul.  With her teammates backing her, Nicole defiantly pushed against the opposition until she stepped over the goal line, securing five points for her team and bringing the game to a close.

Cheers rang out from the Bruins as they rushed to Nicole and hoisted her into the air to celebrate their first victory of the season.  The shortstack felt like her heart was going to explode, so full of adrenaline and excitement was she, and she could not stop herself from giggling with glee.  It felt like she was walking on air all the way back to the locker room, the aches and bruises accumulated over the course of the game lost in the bliss of victory.

“Holy shit, Nicky, that was awesome!” Ashton crowed as she hugged her friend close.  “You’re a total machine, girl!  How’d you do it?”

Nicole smirked and patted her friend on the shoulder in response.  “Come on, Ash, you should know by now that I can’t stand it when someone stands in my way.”

“Well, remind me never to cut in front of you in line,” the brunette chuckled as they staggered back to the lockers.

Changing out of their uniforms brought a great sense of relief to both girls, as their gear was so heavy with mud and sweat that they felt like they were wearing shackles.  Nicole had to do a fair bit of wiggling to get out of her jersey and shorts, and not simply because of their weight.  Her uniform was meant to be snug, but all her eating had made it such a tight fit that getting in and out of her clothes was a struggle.  Not that she seemed to notice, considering what she asked on the way to the showers.

“You know what sounds good after this?  A nice, big steak with a loaded baked potato,” Nicole cooed, practically drooling over the meal in her mind.

Bricktop, having overheard the conversation, walked up and clapped the freshman on the back with a grin.  “Hey, after that last play, you get to have whatever you want!  And since I can’t reward you with your body weight in beer until the party this weekend, this is the next best reward.”

“Dangerous words, Captain,” Ashton chuckled before reaching out to pat Nicole on the stomach without even thinking.  “You’ve seen how much she can eat, right?”

Nicole glanced over to her friend with surprise and a faint blush in her cheeks.  While she made no bones about her love of eating and did not mind others knowing it, she was not used to anyone pointing it out about her.  It also served as a reminder that she had put on a few pounds since the start of school, gaining the Freshman 15 in her first semester alone.  She knew that she was getting a little plump, but now that Ashton made it clear how obvious it was, the thought crossed her mind that perhaps she was getting too plump too fast.

The tattooed girl caught onto her snafu quick, as she fumbled, “Um, I mean…not like she’s a glutton or anything like that!  Just that she…well…that is…”

“Relax, kiddies, it’s all good,” Bricktop chortled as the two girls grew more embarrassed by the second.  “Nicky can eat as much as she wants—we’re good for it.  Now, get your butts into the showers, ‘cause the sooner we get cleaned up, the sooner we can celebrate!”

While the rambunctious captain walked ahead, Nicole and Ashton shuffled behind and alternated between exchanging furtive glances and looking away with a blush.  It was the brunette who broke the ice first, starting, “Hey, I’m sorry about that.  I didn’t mean—”

“S’all good,” Nicole butted in, her cheeks still pink.  “I mean, I guess I do like to eat and Bricktop already knows that.  No skin off my back, honest.”

“All right, just checking,” Ashton replied, willing to drop the topic if Nicole was.  “Tell you what—that steak’s on me.”

The stout girl gave her friend a hip bump and chuckled, “I’m going to make you regret that; my folks don’t call me ‘$30 Plate’ for nothing.”

They shared a laugh as they made their way back to the showers, the awkward conversation already behind them but still sticking in the back of their heads.  For Nicole, it had been a wakeup call to her, a sign that perhaps she needed to cut back before everyone thought that she was just a pig.  For Ashton, it was a reminder to watch her mouth—and a pleasure to feel the squish if Nicole’s softening stomach in her hands.  And as she watched her friend walk to a free shower, her backside bouncing with each step, she wondered just how much bigger that stomach would get if Nicole kept eating the way she had…or if she picked up the pace…


The Bruins made themselves right at home at the steakhouse: ordering plenty of drinks for those that were legal, swapping stories about the earlier match, and making plans for the rest of the night.  Nicole was given a seat at the end of the table for winning the game, and in amongst the shower of praise from her teammates, she also found herself scarfing down plenty of bread.  It began when the girls nearest her saw how much she plucked from the basket and slathered with butter, which then led to others passing along the other baskets down to her once everyone got a chance for a slice.  By Ashton’s count—not that she was paying too close attention, mind you—the stout Number 8 noshed through three baskets worth of bread.

If anyone thought that would diminish her appetite, they were sorely mistaken, as she ordered a generous Delmonico and a baked potato bursting with cheese, bacon, and sour cream.  Nicole looked like a child at Christmas as she gleefully scooped out a healthy chunk from her potato, cut a fine slice from her steak, and popped it in her mouth with delight.  The look on her face was pure bliss as she savored the rich flavors dancing around her mouth, and Ashton was not the only one to notice the sensual coo that the hungry girl let out.

“Damn, Nicky, is it really that good?” asked Vegas as she worked on a strip of salmon.  “I mean, this is some tasty fish, but looking at you, I’m thinking I ordered the wrong thing.”

“Victory makesh it tashte even better,” Nicole hummed around her mouthful.  “You want a bite?  Plenty to go around!”

The prop shook her head and answered, “I’m not taking food off the MVP’s plate—you earned that.  Let me know if you want a cigarette instead of an after-dinner mint though, because it sounds like you’re having the time of your life.”

Mozart, a little further down, picked up on the conversation and slid her plate closer to the Number 8, saying, “Hey Nicky, you want to try these jalapeno deviled eggs?  They’re good but way too spicy for my blood.”

“You had me at ‘jalapeno’,” Nicole chuckled as she scooped up the fried deviled eggs and placed them on her own dish.  She tossed one in the air and caught it in her mouth, which earned some applause from those nearby and a delighted hum from the girl herself.  “Not too bad—could use a little hot sauce though!”

“If you liked that, you should try the Philly cheesesteak egg rolls,” suggested Pollock, the team’s open-side flanker, as she passed a plate with four egg rolls towards Nicole.  “We ordered a few too many of them down this way—help yourself!”

The team knew their freshman MVP all too well, having seen her put on eating displays that no one else on the team had ever seen before.  Thus, when word got around that Nicole had an appetite, they were more than willing to send portions of their dishes down her way.  She had won the game for them, after all, and it was always amazing to see how much she managed to cram into her little body.

If the girl herself took any umbridge with the food being foisted on her, she did not show it; she simply gathered it around her like the Ghost of Christmas Present.  Nicole soon found herself with a little bit of everything from the menu: remnants of appetizers, sides left untouched, and dishes that had not been up to snuff for the ones that chose them.  There were so many choices around her that she was not sure which one to sink her teeth into next, as everything was too delicious for her to make up her mind.  Should she have some of the lobster spinach queso or the parmesan onion rings?  Would the steak fries be better than the sweet potato fries?  And what of the bacon-wrapped oysters or the bacon-wrapped sausages?  So many choices and such riches aplenty, and they were all for her!

The only one who did not send any food Nicole’s way was Ashton, and only because she still felt bad about her faux-pas in the locker room.  She wanted to share some of her salmon with her friend—it had a sweet and spicy mango sauce drizzled atop that made her toes curl—but she did not want to make Nicole feel like she was trying to push that on her.  Of course, none of the other girls had that problem, but none of them had clapped their hands on Nicole’s fluffy belly that was just starting to jiggle…the thought of which made Ashton’s cheeks flare and her thighs squirm.

Looking at Nicole wolf down her food, it was hard to imagine that she had been reconsidering her voracious appetite a mere hour prior.  What a fool she felt like for thinking that way—how could she ever give up such delectable dishes like these?  Why should she feel bad for enjoying her food?  She was one of the best players on the team and the girls loved her for her ability to pack away a spread, so what was there to feel embarrassed about?

Though her pace slowed, Nicole never stopped eating, her only pauses being a drink here and there to help get everything down.  Her delight never dampened either, as her contentment with each dish remained as strong as it was on the first bite.  Only when she reached the last piece of lettuce from a Cobb salad did she let her fork drop to the plate, at which point she raised her arms in victory as if she had scored the winning point all over again.

“Bravo, Nicky, bravo!” Bricktop applauded her Number 8, as did the rest of the team.  “You never fail to amaze, you know that?  You’re crazy—crazy, I tell you!”

“If—urf,” Nicole hiccupped before continuing, “if liking good food makes me crazy, then I’m just about the craziest girl you all know.”

It was at that point that Ashton could not keep her voice in any longer.  She nudged Nicole in the side with her elbow and asked, “Bet you’re not crazy enough to go for dessert.  I hear there’s a twelve-layer chocolate cake here, and I’m betting you don’t have the stomach for it at this point.”

The team oohed and aahed like a sitcom audience at the challenge, and Nicole looked to her friend with the same wide eyes that she gave her in the locker room.  For a brief instant, Ashton thought she had overstepped her boundaries again, only to be rewarded by Nicole grabbing her hand and putting it on her gut.

“I don’t know, Ash,” the Number 8 smirked.  “You tell me if I’ve got the stomach for it…”

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5 minutes ago, Aftermath said:

This is great! I really enjoy the slower progression and Nicole embracing her talent.

Thanks! The slower build has been a nice change of pace for me.

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This is really, really good, as said; I like that she's not going straight into big amounts of weight gain, that's something that I could learn when writing my own fics; but, yeah, this is really good and I love Nicole's personality and the dynamic with The Bruins is entertaining stuff. :D I can't wait to see how this goes with The Bruins seemingly encouraging Nikki to get even bigger.

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While the season had started strong for the Bruins and it seemed they were on track to take the state championship again, it was not meant to be.  Mozart went down with an ACL tear during the state qualifier game, and despite a rallying effort, the team lost 21-24 and went back to campus with their heads hung low.  In typical Bruin fashion though, the team came together for one last party to celebrate the end of the school year and a season that had been mostly successful.  To see them carry on through the night, one would be forgiven for thinking that they had won State, so jubilant were they.

“I’m going to miss you, and I’m going to miss you, and you, and you, and you,” Bricktop declared as she went from teammate to teammate, kissing each girl on the cheek as she gave informal goodbyes.

“You’re going to see us next year, you nut,” Nicole giggled even though she accepted a hug and kiss all the same.  “Can’t believe you’re going to be a coach though!”

“I know—what were they thinking?” the redheaded leader chuckled.  “But being a coach, I can’t attend parties like this anymore.  Some bullshit about me having to be ‘professional’ or whatever, but I’m plenty professional no matter where I go!”

Ashton snorted, “Says the girl who skinny-dipping in the school pond not two weeks ago.”

Bricktop puffed out her chest like an angry bird and contested, “Hey, I was dared to!  And Laila Braun doesn’t take a dare lying down!”

“No one dared you!  We were just walking to Cook-Out for some milkshakes, and soon as we got to the pond, you talked about how hot you were and how you needed to cool off,” Ashton explained, the recent memory still vivid in her mind.  “Next thing we know, you’re tearing your clothes off like they were stitched with Velcro and running down into the water.”

“Agree to disagree,” said the team captain before she pulled the two freshmen close for one more hug.  “But seriously, I am so glad I got the chance to play with you two this year, and I can’t wait to see just how you grow over the next three years—especially you, Nicky.”

Both girls were tickled pink by the compliments, but in Nicole’s case, it felt like a double entendre for how much she had plumped up over the school year.  Her laissez-faire attitude when it came to the effects of her overeating had come back to bite her in the tail, having put on close to thirty pounds in the span of the last nine months.  It would have been noticeable on anyone, but for the pintsized powerhouse, it was glaringly obvious that she had gone from curvy to chunky in no time at all.  From her chipmunk cheeks to her thick thighs that rubbed halfway to her knees, Nicole was no longer the same shortstack she was when she arrived at Cape Fear University back in August.

Not that she did anything to change that, of course.  While she had the occasional flicker of realization that she ought to cut back on the food, those thoughts were quickly forgotten whenever she thought of her next meal.  It did not help that her teammates, especially Ashton, were enabling her every chance they could by giving her snacks and extra helpings whenever they were together.  They knew what the diminutive doughball liked, and they were more than happy to provide her with whatever made her happy.

“Well, with you backing us up, I don’t see how we can lose,” Nicole hummed in delight.

Bricktop fawned over the reply and gave her former underclassmen another hug before telling them, “All right, I need to get some air before I start crying in front of everyone.  Larkspur, Cannonball—you two have a great summer.”

Nicole cocked an eyebrow at the nickname—the first one she had been given since she joined the team and shut down ‘Baby Bear’.  “Cannonball, huh?  It’s cool, but I don’t know if it’s me.”

“It’s a work in progress,” the redhead replied with a shrug.  “I’ll think about it over the summer and let you know if I’ve got any ideas come August.”

After their captain wandered off to make more farewells, Nicole and Ashton walked over to the snack table to refill their plates and cups.  Ashton glanced over at her friend and told her, “You know, we’ve still got plenty of time to get a name for you.”

“I know, but I’m not really that hung up about it anymore,” Nicole admitted after popping a queso-drenched chip in her mouth.  “I was so worried that I wouldn’t find my niche, but if you go up to anyone on the team now, they could easily tell you who I am.  The nickname will come with time; all that matters is people know who I am and what I’m about.”

“Aw, look at my Nicky—all grown up and mature,” Ashton said with a smirk, recalling how she had tried to teach that to Nicole not too long ago.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nicole muttered as she rolled her eyes.  “I do still want to get a cool nickname like the others do, but Cannonball?  I think we could do better.  Wrecking Ball?  Pinball?”

Ashton cast a glance over her chubby friend’s body, noting how her belly button was visible through her t-shirt and how her shorts whiskered around the front.  When she looked at Nicole, it was hard not to think there was a far more appropriate name for her—one that she might have hesitated in suggesting once upon a time.  As she got to know the Number 8 though, Ashton learned that there was little that actually fazed Nicole, especially after the victory dinner after the first game of the season.

“You look more like a ‘Butterball’ to me,” the tattooed girl suggested, her lips curling into a Grinchy grin.  “Especially when you nosh on pizza like that.”

Nicole nearly gagged on her bite when she heard the proposed nickname, but there was no indignation at the proposal.  It was, after all, very applicable to her, given her penchant for stuffing her face and having put on a few pounds.  Still, there had to be a better legacy she could leave behind than being remembered for her fat ass alone.

“Har-dee-har,” the stout girl retorted, rolling her eyes as far back as the Undertaker’s.  “I’m going to workshop something over the summer, don’t you worry.  I can do a whole lot better than just being the team fatso, thank you very much.”

“If the stretch pants fit—that’s all I’m saying,” Ashton teased before sauntering away.

Nicole followed close behind, though not before grabbing another slice of pizza.  She had long since grown used to Ashton’s playful taunts about her weight, knowing that she only ever meant them in jest—and even if they were not jokes, Nicole could have just flattened her.  There had been one or two other cracks among the team, but not even Bricktop had made a mention of all the weight she had packed on over the last year.  Either it was not as big a deal as Ashton made it out to be or everyone else was too nice to mention it, and given how vicious some of her teammates could be, the latter was doubtful.  While she knew what she had to do to keep that name from sticking, Nicole was in no hurry to cut out all the delicious foods in her diet.

“I’ll just have to bump up my workouts to balance it out,” she reasoned to herself, not realizing how much she would have to do to balance out the avalanche of calories she consumed in a day.


After the party wrapped up around 3 AM, Nicole was dropped off at her dorm, where she stumbled past the night guard and to her room.  She expected her roommate to be asleep, being an early bird, but she was shocked to find Colleen still awake and plugging away on her computer.  Not that it mattered to her what hours the bespectacled girl kept; truthfully, she would have preferred if they always found ways to keep out of each other’s hairs.

Ever since Day One, Nicole and Colleen had not gotten along.  They were not the most antagonistic of roommates, but they were an odd couple that never found a common ground to land on.  While Nicole was rowdy and rambunctious, Colleen was reserved and reticent, preferring to keep more to herself than anything else.  How she had been accepted into Tau Beta Eta, a sorority known for being as wild as the school’s rugby club, was beyond Nicole until she learned that Colleen was not in it for the party lifestyle.  She was all about making connections and using the sorority as a stepping stone into a high-level career, and she frowned on the rest of her raucous sisters.

“You’re up late,” Nicole remarked as she made her way to her bed.  “Did Eta have one last blowout for the end of the year?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Colleen grumbled.  “And as usual, I had to be the designated driver for those lushes since—God forbid—they couldn’t go one night without drinking.  Honestly, I should charge them for driving all around town.”

“It’s all part of being a good friend,” the rugby star retorted, knowing full well what the next few words would be.  In fact, she knew it so well that she silently flapped her mouth in time with Colleen as she went off on her sorority sisters, as usual.

“I’m not there to make friends.  Who would want to be associated with a bunch of spoiled brats and brainless bimbos like those twits?  The only reason I joined was because Eta has one of the biggest networks in the whole system, and I want every opportunity I can when I aim for Congress,” the olive girl snapped, pushing her glasses back up her nose.

“I doubt they’re going to vouch for you when they find out what a stick in the mud you are,” Nicole scoffed as she pulled a can of soda from her minifridge.  “You know you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, right?”

Colleen rolled her eyes at the retort and answered, “I don’t need honey to get what I want.  All I need to do is remind all these wastes of space of all the times I helped their sorry butts and I’ll get anything I want.  Driving them around town, holding their hair while they puke their guts out, and keep their dirty little secrets under lock and key…sounds pretty good to me.”

“You’re an evil bitch, you know that?” Nicole sneered before plopping down on her bed and taking a long swig of her soda.  “Like, that’s going to come back and bite you in the ass someday.”

“Unlikely,” her judgmental roommate scoffed.  She shut her laptop and glanced over to see Nicole sprawled out in bed, sipping away at her soda as she watched something on her phone.  “But do tell me, how was the last party of the year for the club?  Did the police bust you up again?”

“Hey, we haven’t had the cops come out since March, thank you,” the chubby girl grumbled.  “And it was a blast—not like you’d get that.”

Colleen ground her teeth together and shifted around to face her roommate, getting a good look at the portly player beside her.  When she first saw Nicole, she had been rather jealous of the shortstack’s curves, which looked more fitting on a popstar than a rabblerouser.  Unfortunately, Colleen had inherited her mother’s temperament and her lithe, flat body, leaving her barely able to fill an A-cup and a backside flat as a board.  If she had only known how much Nicole would plump up over the course of the year, she might not have been so jealous.

“Nicole, I’m sure you use it as a bible, but are you familiar with the movie Animal House?” asked the grouchy Colleen.

“No, I’m not at all familiar with one of the best comedies of all time,” Nicole replied with a roll of her eyes.  “What about it?”

“Well, whenever you go on about how great your club is and how amazing the parties are, I’m always reminded of a line which becomes more and more applicable to you with each passing day,” said Colleen as she leered at her roommate.  “‘Fat, **, and stupid is no way to go through life.’”

Nicole glowered at the judgmental girl and growled, “Hey, I got a 3.8 GPA for the semester, thank you very much.”

“Oh, my mistake,” Colleen sneered.  “Still, you can’t deny the other two.  You come in here every other night absolutely hammered, and you’ve put on so much weight this year that I’d barely recognize you if I didn’t have to live with you.”

“Choose your next few words very carefully, Colleen, or I might just leave an imprint of your face on the wall,” Nicole huffed as she shifted around to sit up in bed and glare at her roommate.

Undeterred, the bespectacled girl hopped off her bed and crossed her arms.  “You’ve put on, what, thirty pounds since the start of the year?  That’s no small number, especially not for someone your height.  You’ve gotten chubby, Nicole, and if you keep doing what you’re doing, you’re going to be too fat to play by the end of sophomore year.”

“At least I’m having a good time while I’m here,” Nicole contested as she slid off her bed and stormed up to Colleen.  “I actually like being around my team and they love me, unlike your barely pretending to like the Etas.  When I graduate and look back on things, I’ll be able to do so with a smile on my face as I think about all the fun I had.  Can you say the same?”

“This isn’t the movies, where you can just do whatever you want and everything will be fine in the end,” Colleen rebutted, glaring daggers through her roommate.  “You eat like shit, you drink God knows how much at these parties, and you think there aren’t going to be any consequences?  Face it, Nicole—you’re going to be a fat ass before you know it.”

She punctuated the remark with a sharp poke to the sliver of belly that peeked out from underneath Nicole’s shirt, sneering, “In fact, I’d say you’re well on your way there.”

For a brief moment, all Nicole could see was red; she could barely process what she did to her snarky roommate.  In one swift motion, she grabbed Colleen’s hand, yanked it up in the air and behind her back, and then pinned the judgmental girl against her bed.  The Latina got so close to the bespectacled brunette that Colleen could smell the booze on her breath, but she was much more concerned by the fire in Nicole’s eyes than anything else.

“You don’t get to call me fat, bruja,” Nicole growled as she gave Colleen a tug on the wrist.  “My friends and my teammates can do that, but you don’t ever call me fat again unless you want me to squish you like a bug—got that?”

Colleen nodded as she winced through the pain, and just as suddenly as she had been pinned, Nicole released her and allowed her to stumble away.  The brunette fixed her glasses and readjusted her blouse before stammering, “I…I don’t argue with drunks.  I’m going to go to the library to work on my English final; don’t bother me unless the dorm’s on fire.”

With that, she stuffed her laptop in her backpack and dashed out the door, going wherever she could to put some distance between herself and Nicole.  When Colleen left, her stout roommate locked the door behind her and trudged over to her chair for some late night television, as if she had not just threatened someone.  Nicole did not especially care whether Colleen took her seriously or not: she had made a point that she had been holding onto for months, and that was all that mattered.  The only thing she hoped for was that the last couple weeks of living together could pass in peace, since they would not have to see each other again after Move-out Day.  Come next year, she would be rooming with Ashton in an on-campus apartment, which she could not wait for.

“No one get to call me fat but the Bruins…I’m their Butterball, dammit,” Nicole groused as she fell asleep in her chair with dreams of the year to come…

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((Mad love to @venusderuebens for their help in co-writing the last part of this chapter!)) 

As much as Nicole had come to consider Cape Fear University her home away from home, it felt good to be back in Shady Brook for the summer.  To sleep in her old room in her old bed felt so nice, especially since she did not have to put up with Colleen’s nonsense, and as good as the food was on campus, nothing could beat her mother’s cooking.  Most of all, she was looking forward to revisiting her favorite stomping grounds and catching up with her friends, who had been scattered by the winds after graduation.  It would be the first time they were all able to get together at the same time between their schools’ different schedules, and Nicole could not wait to see how everyone had been doing.

She was the first to arrive at the meet-up—Genelle’s, a diner not too far from their old high school—and she ordered a plate of onion rings that she intended to share with the rest of the gang when they arrived.  Waiting for everyone to turn up proved to be more difficult than she expected though, and the crispy, glistening rings smelled so delectable that Nicole very nearly drooled over them.  She drummed her fingers on the tabletop as she kept an eye on the door for anyone to make an appearance, but the longer she waited, the more the rings tempted her.

“It’s a pretty big basket…not like they’ll notice a couple missing,” the stout girl reasoned with herself before dipping one of the rings in ketchup.  “Yeah, let’s just have a couple to tide things over until everyone gets here.”

Unfortunately, a couple turned into a few, which turned into some, then several, and before she knew it, Nicole had wolfed down the entire basket—two dozen onion rings—all on her own.  She glanced down at the empty basket, then her greasy fingers, and winced as she realized just how much she had eaten.  Luckily, she was able to order a fresh basket and clean her hands of any evidence before the first of the gang, her oldest friend, arrived.

Trevor Trang and Nicole had been friends for as long as either could remember, which had led to many comments about how they were a couple.  Both were quick to shut down said comments, as they considered themselves strictly platonic, a status that was only cemented when they realized their orientations in high school.  Even if Nicole did like Trevor, it would have been unreciprocated by the asexual boy, who was about as interested in relationships as she was in dieting.

“What’s up, Trev?” Nicole asked as she slid out of the booth and wrapped her old friend in a hug. “Sorry I couldn’t catch you over Christmas.”

“No problem—that’s on me for picking a school that starts sooner than everyone else,” Trevor replied.  He let go of the hug and glanced down at Nicole before remarking, “Did you already eat?  You’ve got crumbs on your lips.”

The plush girl turned a fine pink and quickly dabbed away the crumbs with a napkin.  “Shoot, shoot, shoot.  Sorry, I got us some onion rings but they just smelled so good and I had kind of an early breakfast and I got a good workout in about an hour ago and—”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” Trevor assured his longtime companion.  “I know how you like your food…which hasn’t changed all year, it looks like.”

Nicole was about to ask what he meant when the taller boy pointed down at her shirt, which rode up when she scrambled out of the booth and exposed a ribbon of pudge at her waist.  A nervous giggle escaped her lips as she tugged the shirt back down and replied, “Well, you know how it is.  Free meals anytime I want at the cafeteria, lots of new places to try in town…it’s bound to happen to us all.”

“I think you mean it was bound to happen to you, Nic,” Trevor chuckled while he took his seat across from Nicole.  “I just hope you ordered another plate to make up for it.”

“Of course!  I’m not going to deprive my friends of some classic Genelle’s onion rings,” the stout girl retorted before sticking her tongue out and joining Trevor at the table.

One by one, the rest of the old gang showed up: Danny Patel, who snuck in through the kitchen thanks to his connection with the owner; Rose Pillar, who dressed like it was 1955; Lorelei Fitzpatrick, who dressed like it was 1985; and Kristen Tanner, who arrived fashionable and fashionably late.  It felt good to be all back together again, and as they sat down to a fresh basket of onion rings—plus curly fries at Lorelei’s request—it felt like they had not skipped a beat.

While Nicole was pleased to see that no one had changed much behaviorally, from Rose’s bashfulness to Kristen’s flirtatiousness, she did note that the same could not be said for their bodies.  Trevor and Danny had done well to maintain themselves, between the former’s ripped gymnast physique and the latter’s lean swimmer build, but the other girls in the group did not seem so lucky.  It was hard to tell through Rose’s blouse and poodle skirt, but her face seemed fuller than it used to be.  The same could be said for Kristen, though Nicole’s attention was taken more by the redhead’s chest, which had only grown more prodigious over the past year.  Even Lorelei, arguably the fittest of the bunch, seemed thicker in the caboose than it did last August.

Of course, any of their gains paled in comparison to Nicole herself, who had packed on more than all of them combined.  She did not stress about her weight—if she had, the stout girl would have cut back her portions ages ago—but being the fattest in her group was a new experience for her.  It had been some concern of hers when she got home, wondering what her friends might say, but she was relieved to find that it did not come up a single time during their meal.  Nothing was made of it during the meal, but the same could not be said for dessert.

“God, I am stuffed,” Kristen cooed, patting a stomach that was almost perfectly flat.  “I always forget how good the chicken sandwiches are here.”

“Same for the cheesesteaks,” Lorelei hummed in delight as she licked away the last of the cheese from her lips.  “I just haven’t found anything as good down at school.”

“Oh, you’ve got to come visit me sometime, Lorelei—I know all the best spots around my campus,” Nicole accurately boasted.  “Anyone up for dessert?  My treat!  Danny?  Trevor?  Rose, I know you’ve been hankering for the banana split.”

The Aussie nibbled at her lip and replied, “I don’t know, Nicky…I’m pretty full up.  And I really shouldn’t overdo it in the off-season.”

Nicole rolled her eyes at the thought of taking it easy during the summer.  Summer vacation was meant to be a time for relaxing and doing whatever they wanted, not spend it worrying about the next season.  Granted, Rose had it harder than most since she was on both the basketball and volleyball team at her school, but that was all the more reason for her to put her feet up while she had the chance.  And with Kristen’s track and field and Lorelei’s karate, it seemed like Nicole was the only one willing to indulge while she had the chance.

“More for me then,” the stout girl snorted.

She reached over to grab a menu from behind the napkin dispenser, the waistband of her shorts biting into her plush stomach every inch of the way.  Just as she grabbed the paper, she felt a sudden pop along her waist, heard a ping as something hit the bottom of the table, and watched as Danny jumped in his seat.  Her chubby cheeks turned a fiery red as she realized what had happened and what the rest of the table was about to learn.

“The heck was that?” asked Danny as he reached down by his feet and returned with a button.  “Is this…did someone lose a button?”

“That’s mine, thanks,” Nicole muttered while she snatched the button out of her friend’s hand.

“Nicky, did you…oh my god, you didn’t,” Lorelei gawked, not wanting to say what everyone was thinking despite how obvious it was.

Nicole quickly stuffed the button in her pocket and crossed her arms under her soft chest as she grumbled, “What, you’ve never seen someone pop their pants before?”

“It’s all right, Nicole,” Rose consoled her friend with a pat on the shoulder.  “I know how frustrating it can be; I popped a button on my top a few weeks ago.”

Kristen stifled a hum at that thought before adding, “Yeah, and you know what?  This just gives us an excuse to go to Hart Park Mall!  Let’s make a day out of it: we can pick up some new outfits, sit in the massage chairs for a while, and get some lunch at the food court.  You’ll love this new sushi place that just opened up there; it’s to die for.”

Even though she knew she would have to face that at some point, Nicole was not looking forward to the idea of shopping for new clothes.  Part of that was just how picky Kristen could be, as the redhead could spend literally all day in a single store, but having to get new duds meant that she had to admit she had put on that much weight over the course of the past year.  She was feeling more comfortable about it thanks to the camaraderie of the team, but to show how plump she had gotten with one of her oldest friends?  That was not so easy for her.

“I guess that would be fun,” the shorter girl mused, “but promise me we won’t spend hours looking for a single skirt like last time.”

“Honey, you know I can’t make that promise,” Kristen snickered.  “Now, how about dessert?”

“I thought you were too full,” Nicole remarked, though less cross than a moment prior as the spark of embarrassment faded.

“And watch you enjoy yourself alone?  I don’t think so,” the redhead snorted as she stole the menu from Nicole.  “Besides, I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I had good blueberry pie.”

Before the diminutive rugby player could say anything in return, Lorelei peered over the menu and said, “Oh, count me in for some strawberry shortcake!”

“It’s been so long since I had a caramel brownie that I’ve forgotten what they taste like,” Danny chuckled to himself.  “Nicole, what’re you thinking of having?”

As her friends passed around dessert ideas, the last of Nicole’s anxieties washed away in a wave of good feeling.  The little voice nagging at her for putting on so much weight over the last year was silenced with the reassurance that it did not truly matter.  So what if she had gotten chubby?  She had plenty of friends who did not care what she looked like, how much she ate, or how many buttons she popped.  With that mindset, there was only one answer to Danny’s question.

“I’m getting the ten-layer chocolate cake, and I’ll fight anybody who tries to take a bite from me,” Nicole answered with the same smirk she wore on the pitch.


Nicole took in deep breaths through her nose as she sucked down soft serve like it was water.  It was strange that she was eating so fast yet not once getting a crippling brain freeze—something strange was making everything easier to get down.  That was a double-edged sword for her, because while she was happy to not be wracked with pain, it meant she could eat even more ice cream—which meant that she was only going to get fatter and make more blubber for Ashton to play with.

‘Worst SummerShine ever,’ she thought in her mind.

"You know, Bricktop always talks about how she thought you'd end up like this," Ashton mused, hefting up Nicole's belly and dropping it onto the other girl's thighs, watching as the tear in her dress inched higher. "Fat, I mean.  I don't think she exactly had you gorging on ice cream like this in mind.  But it's really not much of a leap."

Ashton snickered, patting the Latina's gut with enough force to make it wobble with each impact.  "Me, I love it when someone gets to see just what their choices can do," she explained, her free hand leaving Nicole's gut for a minute as she pulled out the hair tie that held her ponytail up. Her hair falling onto her back and shoulders, she deftly wrapped the hair tie around the trigger of the soft-serve pump, smirking when she saw it hold. She kept one hand on the nozzle - she had to make sure it stayed in and kept feeding Nicole, of course, but that would change soon enough.

"And you know, I don't think she's wrong.  So, how's it feel, Nicole? To be the fatty that, really, you were probably destined to be?" She teased, hooking one of the other chairs with her ankle and dragging it over, plopping down in it next to Nicole.  The Cheshire Cat grin had not left her face for a single moment since this whole affair began, and it was not liable to leave anytime soon.

Nicole watched in muted horror as Ashton locked the trigger down, which meant she was not getting a reprieve any time soon.  Her stomach flipped when she felt her captor slap her stomach hard enough to make a drumming sound; that was the worst part, how deep her belly drum sounded. Then came her remarks, which made her want to spit a mouthful of soft serve at Ashton.  She knew she was chubby--she had always been chubby--but she took pride in having good muscle underneath all that. There was a reason why she was on the school's rugby team, after all, and not just because she made for an adorable mascot.  Yes, she was plump, but she was never going to be full-on fat, no matter what Ashton might say.

"Mm--mph," she grunted at the girl, her eyes flickering with hate.

"Maybe not," Ashton allowed, leaning in and one arm going around Nicole's shoulders, the other resting on the apex of the Latina's swelling belly.  She continued, leaning against the other girl’s side. "I know, Bricktop can be very blunt.  Really, I think you look cute, both before and after the blubber-filled makeover.”

 "Or…she's not too far off.  I know you're not just a ball of pudge, but you've got all this muscle," she poked Nicole's thigh strongly, reaching some of the firm muscle underneath, "covered up by all that gluttony. Again, cute, in my own thinking.”

Her hand returned to Nicole's belly, the tear in her dress slowing a little as it got over the apex of her gut.  That last bit was notable because as shorter girl had been gulping down ice cream, her upper belly was getting closer to the girth of her lower belly's wobbling fat in terms of circumference.  "But still, you had to have thought about what would happen if you slipped on rugby or if you partied a little too hard.  And fried butter certainly won't help if you don't want to blow up."

Nicole wanted to tell Ashton to go screw herself, that she did not eat fried butter all day long, and that she had more muscle than pudge.  Unfortunately, her mouth was plugged, the fried butter still weighed down in her belly, and the muscle was buried under a good inch or two--maybe three--of blubber.  What made this even worse for her was how the girl played with her body and whispered her silken words in her ear.  She growled at the tattooed talker as she wiggled in a vain effort to shake her prodding hands free.

"But let’s be honest," Ashton continued, her fingers making another feather-light circuit from stuffed stomach to rolling curve of her underbelly.  As she let her pointer finger sink into Nicole’s gut, she purred, "More than a small part of you actually likes this."


Nicole stirred in her sleep as the surreal dream played out in her mind, all sorts of subconscious thoughts coming to light.  While one hand gripped her pillow, the other rubbed her stomach, packed full from a day’s worth of glutting herself…and she still had almost three months left on summer break…

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There were a number of reasons Ashton was looking forward to the start of the new school year: she was knocking out the last of her general ed courses before getting into Cape Fear’s business school, she had secured a comfy on-campus apartment for herself, and most importantly, she would be sharing said apartment with her best friend.  It had been a long three months without seeing Nicole, and though they chatted regularly throughout the summer, she had missed her chubby buddy.  After getting everything moved in, she wanted to take her friend out on the town to celebrate their moving in—and see if she still had her voracious appetite.

Ashton arrived at the apartment first, given that she lived two hours away from the school compared to Nicole’s four, and had already gotten all her things moved in by the time her roommate buzzed her to say she had just pulled up.  The brunette ducked into the bathroom and gave herself a quick once-over to make sure she looked presentable, even though she knew that Nicole would be happy to see her regardless.  She smoothed out her sleeveless, lilac blouse and fiddled with her white shorts, which were tighter around her thighs than they used to be.

“Stupid off-season,” the tattooed girl muttered to herself as she pinched at her leg, grabbing at pudge that was otherwise undetectable to the naked eye.  “Got to work my ass off to lose this.”

She could have spent all day picking at little flaws in her body, but Ashton was shaken from her observations by a text from Nicole and she dashed out the door.  As she jogged down the stairs to the parking lot, she did her best to ignore how her thighs touched and bounced against each other with every step.  Normally, she would have spent at least some of the summer sticking to her training, but after an especially taxing year both on and off the field, she felt like she had earned herself a breather.  That breather caused her to gain seven whole pounds, despite having gained next to nothing over the course of the whole previous year.

“How does Nicky do this?” she asked when she stopped at the foot of the steps and adjusted her shorts for what felt like the hundredth time that morning.

After feeling mostly comfortable with how her shorts looked, Ashton walked out to the parking lot and spotted Nicole pulling some bags out of her family’s van.  Her eyes grew wide when she saw her friend—more specifically, how much her friend had grown in just the span of a few months.  When she bid farewell to Nicole back in May, the stout girl had been plush, bordering on chubby, but she had blown well past that and was downright fat.  She had chosen to wear her jersey from last year, but the yellow and black shirt clung to her like a second skin and only served to enhance how round her gut had become.  And if Ashton thought her own shorts were tight, they were nothing compared to the leggings Nicole squeezed herself into, which were stretched to the point of paling around her hips.

What had she been eating since she went back home?  A better question would have been what she had not ate, if her plump form was any indication.  Any worries Ashton had about her own weight went out the window, knowing that any pounds she put on were dwarfed by the chubby Nicole.

“Need a hand there, roomie?” Ashton asked as she sauntered over, not wanting to stand and stare for too long lest she get caught.

“Ash!” Nicole squealed in delight.  She dropped the duffel bag she was holding and barreled over to Ashton with such intensity that the tattooed girl was worried that she might be knocked off her feet.  Thankfully, all she got was the softest, tightest hug she had ever received as Nicole squeezed her close.  “Oh man, I missed you so much!  How have you been?”

“F-Fine!  Just fine!” Ashton gasped, struggling to find the right words as Nicole not only squeezed the air out of her lungs but pressed her close against her chubby body.  She managed to get her arms out and wrapped them around her friend as she replied, “Haven’t gotten any weaker, I see.”

“Heck no at all—in fact, I actually doubled down on strength training over the summer,” Nicole boasted as she gave Ashton one last squish before letting her go.  “I was never built for speed, so I figured I might work on making sure I can bowl over anyone; just wait until you see me out on the field!”

“Work before play, mija,” came a high-pitched voice from the other side of the van.

Ashton watched in amazement as the biggest woman she had ever seen lumbered out from behind the van.  She was so wide around that if she fell down, she would likely roll away, and her arms were forced to sit at an angle against her fluffy sides.  Her breasts were bigger than pumpkins, she had a belly that drooped down to her knees despite being held back by her pants, and her hips were so vast that it was a wonder she was able to fit in the van.  And even though her face was so plump that her eyes were forced into a squint and her lips into a pucker, she was the spitting image of Nicole.

“I’m just saying hi to my bestie, Mom, c’mon,” Nicole hummed, though she walked back to the van with Ashton in tow.  “Mom, Ashton—Ashton, Mom.”

When she realized who the brunette was, the matron clapped her pudgy hands together and bounced on the balls of her feet.  “You’re Ashton?  Oh, it’s so wonderful to meet you!  Our little Nicky couldn’t stop talking about you all summer; she said you were the best thing about school last year.”

“Hey, I did not talk about her all summer,” Nicole contested, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

The massive woman winked at her daughter before opening her arms up and telling Ashton, “I’m Mickey, and you’d better get in here, because I’m a hugger.”

Ashton would have accepted the hug regardless, but she felt like she was drawn towards Mickey by some kind of gravitational pull.  If hugging Nicole was like squeezing a pillow, then hugging Mickey was like trying to hug a giant marshmallow; Ashton’s hands did not come close to touching, and she swore that she felt herself sinking into the globular woman as though she were quicksand.  It was small wonder that Nicole was the way she was if this was where she came from, and Ashton wondered if her friend would have been fatter were it not for rugby.

“It’s meece to nite you,” Ashton mumbled, her brain short-circuiting as it tried to comprehend just how big Mickey was.

“All right, Mom, that’ll do it,” Nicole told her mother.  “We’ve got work to do, right?”

“That’s right—or do you expect me to do all the lifting, Miss Superheavyweight Champion?” asked a burly, bearded man as he walked out of the building.

“Oh, hush, you two,” Mickey replied before letting go of Ashton, who felt like she needed a breath after being swaddled by so much blubber.  “I just wanted to tell Ashton how much we appreciated her helping Nicole out last year.”

“This is her?  Well, it’s an honor to meet you,” the man chuckled as he shook Ashton’s hand.  “Ray Valdez—I’m Nicole’s father and bagboy, apparently.”

Nicole stuck her tongue out and elbowed her dad in the side as she picked up the duffel bag she dropped before.  “I can take a hint, Dad.  Come on, Ash—the sooner we take care of this, the sooner we can go grab something to eat.”

“Right behind you,” Ashton replied, picking up a box in turn.  She stayed true to her word, staying behind the group and getting a good glimpse of Nicole and Mickey’s backsides as they strained their respective legwear.  And as she followed after them, she silently marveled at just how much Nicole resembled her mother and wondered if she was getting a glimpse at her roomie’s future…


The move-in took less time than expected, partly because there was hardly any furniture to move in but also because Mickey proved to be as strong as an ox in addition to being as heavy as one.  Nicole mentioned how her mother used to be a wrestler before retiring from active competition to run her own company, and given how well Mickey moved despite her ginormous girth, that made perfect sense to Ashton.  Altogether, it took only twenty-odd minutes to move everything in, at which point Nicole clapped her hands together and made a declaration.

“Let’s get some grub!  I’ve been hankering for some Trolley Stop the entire way here, and that burger I had at lunch didn’t tide me over at all,” the chubby girl remarked as she led the way out.  “Like, who makes a triple bacon burger so light?”

“Tell me about it,” Mickey replied as she rubbed her own gravid gut.  “They just don’t make them like they used to.”

“It also takes you a little more to fill you up these days, mi gordita,” Ray playfully growled under his breath, though Ashton and Nicole could hear them just fine.

“Oh my god, can you two not wait until we’re out of here?  The last thing we want is to hear your weirdo flirting,” Nicole gagged before nudging Ashton in the side.  “Right, Ash?”

It took Ashton a moment to reply, as the playful banter between Mickey and Ray had her brain on the fritz.  She swallowed a lump in her throat and answered, “Uh…I mean, I think it’s cute!”

“Weirdo,” Nicole chuckled and bumped her friend with her hip.

The Trolley Stop was busy as ever between all the new and returning students and the beachgoers stopping for a bite to eat.  They chose to sit outside to enjoy their lunch, both because it was a sunny day without a cloud in the sky and because there was no room for a woman of Mickey’s girth inside.  In fact, a waiter had to bring out two stools to accommodate her—this in addition to the chair that was already at the table.  Not that Mickey seemed to mind that fact or that people could not stop staring at her as she got herself situated, but Ashton supposed that she was used to it after being so huge for who knew how long.

“Good call on this place, mija,” the obese matron remarked as she took a whiff of the air around the diner.  “I can already tell this is going to be delicious.”

“You’ve got to try the Deluxe Bacon Cheeseburger, Mom—it’s to die for,” Nicole suggested, her thoughts on her first meal at The Trolley Stop.  As she scanned the menu, she asked her friend, “Ash, what’re you thinking?”

“I’m probably just going to have the chicken salad,” Ashton bashfully admitted.  “I’ve got to watch what I eat after I put on a couple pounds this summer.”

The comment earned a guffaw from Nicole, whose belly actually shook with her laughter.  She clapped a hand on her stomach and told Ashton, “Ash, you’re worried about a couple pounds?  Look at me—do you want to take a stab at how much weight I’ve gained since May?  I’ll tell you that it’s more than just a couple pounds.”

Ashton bit her lip before taking a long sip of water to try and quench the heat in her cheeks.  “W-Well, not all of us make it look as good as you do, Nicky.”

“Hogwash!  Thick is in right now, Ash; anybody can rock it if they own it,” Nicole replied, unknowingly stoking the fires in her roommate.  “Besides, you can’t come to a place like Trolley Stop and just get a salad.  Live it up, girl!”

Spurred on by Nicole’s encouragement, and knowing that she would not stop until Ashton caved, the tattooed girl picked her menu back up and said, “Okay, okay…but I’m still getting chicken.  How about the Poblano Chicken Sandwich?  Buttermilk-fried, jalapeno bacon, poblano pepper mayo, and guacamole—is that ‘living it up’ enough for you?”

“Now you’re talking,” the stout girl giggled before perusing her own menu and slamming her finger down on her choice.  “Oh, you know I’ve got to get me the Bad Ass Burger.  Look at this sucker: two patties, Housemade American cheese, and buttermilk-fried bacon!”

“Sounds right up your alley, Nicky,” Mickey hummed.  “Now, would anyone care to join me for some appetizers?  I’ve been eyeballing those BBQ nachos since I got here.”

“Oh, I am all about the fried pickles,” Nicole answered, licking her lips at the prospects.  She nudged Ashton’s leg and asked, “You want to get something too?  My folks are treating, and they wouldn’t want you to go home hungry.”

Ashton blanched at the thought of having even more food, especially since the chicken sandwich sounded like it would be a beast in of itself.  “I might just split some with you, Nicky.  I don’t mind living it up, but I don’t have a black hole in my stomach like you do.”

“Suit yourself,” Nicole said with a shrug, “but we’ll have to work on that.”

That notion sent a shiver down Ashton’s spine, and she very nearly finished off her water to fight the flames in her core.  She knew that living with Nicole might be bad for her waistline, but she had no idea she would be this incorrigible so soon.  When the season started up again, she would need to bump up her training regiment, lest she start looking like her roommate.  And if Nicole kept up like this, how long would it be before she started to catch up to her mother?

Those thoughts were brushed to the side when the food arrived and all thoughts turned to eating.  Ashton had been right to fear the appetizers, because the fried pickles were so crispy and the ranch sauce they came with was so tangy that she could gobble it all up herself.  Thankfully, Nicole was able to spare her by eating the lion’s share, though she was on her own when it came to her beast of a sandwich.  It was a hulking thing that was so big, she wondered how she could possibly take a bite out of it and if she could get some silverware to cut it apart.

But then she saw how much Nicole and Mickey were enjoying their food—so much so that they were hoovering up the massive burgers and piles of fries.  They practically unhinged their jaws like snakes in order to get the burgers in their mouths and juice and sauce coated their fingers, but they looked like they were in culinary heaven.  Mickey let out a coo as she worked on a mouthful of crispy bacon, and Nicole’s eyelids fluttered as she savored the fatty burger.  It was as if their burgers were manna from heaven and they could not get enough.

Somehow, seeing the mother and daughter pair demolish their food egged Ashton on with her own sandwich, and she gingerly picked it up as if it could bite her.  She opened her mouth as wide as she could and took a big bite that barely made a dent in the sandwich, which then forced some of the guacamole and mayo out the back and onto her fingers.  It was juicy, spicy, tangy, and so very, very decadent—and it was the best thing that Ashton had ever eaten.  Her toes curled and she wiggled in her seat as she happily took bite after bite, any weight worries miles away.

She was so lost in the flavor of the sandwich that she forgot everything around her, even the chubby girl beside her and the mountainous woman across from her.  The Trolley Stop was good—one of the best spots in town—but she had never had anything this good before.  Was it that they got a new cook?  Better ingredients?  Or maybe it was because she was enjoying her food like Nicole would?  That thought gave her goosebumps as she wondered how much her friend had rubbed off on her.

Finally, there was no more sandwich to be had and all the fries had been consumed.  Ashton slouched in her chair and let her hands rest on her stomach, too stuffed to even think straight and wondering how Nicole could do this all the time.  She glanced over at her friend, who happily licked her fingers clean and looked over the menu for dessert.  At least that was something Ashton could take comfort in—that no matter how much of a glutton she felt, Nicole was on a whole other level…

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This was absolutely brilliant!, I love the dynamic between Ashton and Nicky; the way you described Nicky getting bigger and bigger was just brilliant and I'm excited to see where this goes. Absolutely love it!

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After a couple weeks back to allow everyone to get settled in, it was time for the first meeting of the rugby club and Nicole could not have been more excited.  It felt good to see old faces again, from the ever perky Mozart to the lackadaisical Pollock, and she was curious to see what the new crop of freshmen looked like.  There were some impressive ladies in attendance, each with a different build than the last, but there would be plenty of time to see how they performed on the field.  First and foremost came the address from the coaches, which included the old team captain, Laila Braun—the former and formidable Bricktop.

“All right, settle down, you knuckleheads,” the redhead told the girls after they greeted her by chanting her name.  “Now, we had a damn good couple seasons last year, and it was only bad luck that kept us from going further.  But I’ve got a feeling that we’re going to raise absolute hell this time around, and I know you’re ready to bust heads out there.  If this is your first year, you’ve got a lot to prove; if you’re a returning member, I want to see just how much better you can do.  You’re a Bruin, and you run with the baddest bitches in the state!”

There was much hooting and hollering from the crowd as the former captain took her leave from the front of the room, Nicole being one of the most vocal.  The chubby girl was bursting with excitement at the prospects of the new year, and she could not wait to get out on the pitch with her teammates old and new.  In all her giddiness though, she failed to notice that her jostling around had caused her shirt to slip up her stomach, revealing a fluffy muffin top rolling over her shorts.

This was not lost on Ashton, who had only been paying half her attention to the coaches; the rest was saved for watching her roommate’s body jiggle like jelly.  Even though she now lived with Nicole and saw her most of each day, she never got tired of watching the pudgy girl wobble about.  In the morning, Nicole would plod out to the common room in a tank top and shorts that were practically painted on her; in the evening, she did not mind letting her stomach hang out from the confines her pants.  It was enough to fry Ashton’s brain, and she wished that she had more time throughout the day by herself in order to release some of that heat.

“Nicky, shirt,” the tattooed girl whispered to her roommate, who promptly covered herself up, much to Ashton’s internal dismay.

“Thanks, Ash,” Nicole hummed back.  She gave her belly a pat and snickered, “I swear, this thing has a mind of its own sometimes.”

It was a statement that Ashton could only agree with through a muffled squeak, too busy biting her bottom lip to say much else.  Thankfully, the arrival of Bricktop proved the perfect distraction, even if she did so by clapping the two on their thick backsides.

“Ladies!  Great to see you again,” the rambunctious redhead greeted the returning players.  “How did I look up there?  Professional, I hope, but not too professional.  But hey, how have you two been?  You’re living together this year, right?”

“Yep!  I’m glad to finally have a roommate I like,” Nicole giggled.  “And you looked good, Brick!”

“Shucks, Nicky, you’re going to make me blush,” Bricktop guffawed before pulling the Number 8 in for a hug.  Unlike Ashton though, she made no bones about remarking, “You’re looking pretty healthy there, girl!  What were you eating all summer?”

Nicole smirked at her old captain and replied, “The question is what didn’t I eat: pizza at the mall, ice cream at the pool, burgers on the road; I could go on and on.  But don’t think that a few pounds are going to keep me from giving my absolute best out on the field, because I will kick so much ass that it'll make your head spin.”

Bricktop chortled at the response before retorting, “I don’t know, Nicky, you might just be a little bigger than you think.  I could hear the seams on the seat of your shorts straining from the front of the room, and that top’s sticking to you like white on rice.  Ashton, back me up here.”

“Nope, I’m good,” the brunette mumbled, too lost for words.

“Look, when we get to practice tomorrow, I’m going to show you just how good I am,” Nicole asserted with a clap to her chest, which caused her shirt to eke upwards yet again.

The slight movement was not lost on Bricktop, who patted the stout girl on the shoulder and told her, “Hey, I believe you: don’t think I’ve forgotten how you scored that big victory against the Bulldogs last season.  I’m just saying that you might be a bit too big to be our Number 8 this year.”

It was a suggestion that made Nicole’s heart stop.  While she was getting used to being a big girl, she hated the idea that she had grown out of her position on the team.  Thankfully, Bricktop followed up the statement by saying, “Relax, it doesn’t mean that we’re kicking you off the team; it just means we need to do a little retooling so you still have a spot.  Tell you what, why don’t we talk about it over dinner—my treat!”

Despite the fact that she had eaten herself out of the Number 8 spot, Nicole was not going to go without eating, especially on Bricktop’s dime.  She nodded and replied, “All right, but I just hope they give you a good salary, because I get hungry when I hear bad news.”

“That’s the spirit, Nicky,” Bricktop chortled.  “Larkspur, you’re coming too, right?  I know you don’t want to miss Nicky putting on a show.”

Ashton would not have missed Nicole stuffing her face for the world.  She nodded along and followed after the duo, partly wondering what sort of position her roommate could take and partly wondering when she would eat herself off the team entirely…


After much discussion and several baskets of wings, it was decided that Nicole would take the blind-side flanker position, where her strength and endurance could really shine.  She proved adept in the role at the following day’s practice and showed that she was still every bit the same wrecking ball that she had been the previous year.  While she was not the fastest member of the team, the stout girl made up for agility with sheer perseverance, managing to cross the goal line at one point even as two other girls tried to drag her down to the dirt.  All throughout the practice, she checked to make sure that Bricktop was watching, which always earned her a nod of approval from the redhead.

Switching from the Number 8 to a flanker position meant swapping out her uniform, but Nicole would done so regardless, as her gear from the last year was entirely too tight.  Her shorts cut into her plump legs so much that they left angry red marks on her thighs and waist, and her jersey was all but painted onto her thick middle.  The tightness of the jersey was not limited to her bulbous middle, as the sleeves dug into her plush arms, so much so that she could barely squeeze her fingers underneath.

“You keep on growing, and we might have to start ordering custom sizes for you, Nicky,” Bricktop joked, though it would not be long before that turned out to be true.

The first couple weeks of the season were rough on the girls due to a miserable heatwave that sapped the team of all their energy and left them sweaty messes before long.  They took to heading to the beach after practice to cool off, but there was only so much the ocean could do when it was hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk.  After a particularly taxing game, where the temperature reached 101 degrees and the water cooler ran empty, a party was put together by Bricktop and Vegas, the current team captain and chief party planner.  They were going to reward everyone’s hard work with a nice ice cream social, though with a Bruin twist.

“Who wants another mimosa float?” Mozat called out as she walked around with a platter of boozy concoctions.  “Plenty to go around, and don’t worry—we’ve got margarita pops on the way!”

Even without Bricktop at the helm—officially, that is—a Bruins party was still the thing of legend.  Vegas had managed to secure a beach house for the team to use for the night and converted the entire place into an ice cream wonderland, where the creamy treat was mixed with booze and beer in a variety of ways.  Debauchery reigned supreme over the entire house, with one room having a massive pool full of whipped cream, another with lewd ice cream sculptures, and still another where everyone could make their own sundaes atop the rock hard bodies of some hired help for the night.  In short, it was paradise for a growing girl like Nicole.

“I love this team!” she cheered while holding a towering ice cream cone in both hands.  The stout girl was riding on a sugar high after taking a dip in the whipped cream pool and eating a banana split off one of guys from the track team.  “Ash, tell me this isn’t awesome!”

Ashton would have agreed, but her mind was elsewhere due to the fact that Nicole was walking around in her underwear.  While she had gotten the memo about bringing a change of clothes, the bubbly girl preferred to let it all hang out after getting into an impromptu match with one of the juniors that left both girls covered in whipped cream.  She was hosed down afterwards, but rather than walk around in wet clothes, Nicole opted to shimmy about in her skivvies, which needed an upgrade like the rest of her wardrobe.  Her bra was so tight that it created pinchable rolls along her back, and the waistband of her underwear was obscured by overhanging flab.  If any of this bothered Nicole, she did not let it show; instead, she preferred showing off to everyone else.

“Hey, Ash!  Earth to Ashton Michaels,” Nicole called out, shaking Ashton from her pudge-induced stupor.  “You still with me?”

“Wha?  Yeah, yeah, sorry.  It’s a great party,” Ashton remarked, praying that Nicole had not caught her staring at her flabby body as it jiggled with each heavy footfall.

“Yeah, I know!  It’s like the ice cream party I had when I was four, but remade with a R-rating,” the stout girl giggled before licking some rocky road that melted onto her hand.  “Shit, I don’t know if I can handle both of these before they melt.  Help me out, would you?”

Without waiting for a reply, Nicole handed her other triple-decker cone to Ashton, who gawked at the stack of scoops in amazement.  It was a Neapolitan mix, with a large scoop of chocolate sitting atop vanilla atop strawberry, each scoop the size of a tennis ball.  Ordinarily, Ashton would have passed on the ice cream cone, but after watching Nicole flaunt her chubby body all night long, she needed something to take the edge off before she exploded.  She quickly got to eating the ice cream, her pace picking up after a congratulatory slap from one of her teammates set Nicole’s body rippling.

As both girls made their way through the party and ate their ice cream, they caught sight of a curious contraption being wheeled through the back door.  Nicole swallowed the last of her pistachio scoop and asked, “Hey, what’s that?  Weirdest keg I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s no keg, Nicky,” one of the girls answered as they slapped the side of the machine.  “It’s a soft serve machine we got cheap from the rec center.”

“You mean you stole it from the rec center, Bollywood,” Ashton corrected the outside center.

“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” Bollywood retorted.  “Not like it was being used; think of this as checking to make sure it works properly.  You girls want to give it a try when we get it going?”

This time, it was Nicole’s turn to freeze up, as something about the machine brought back memories of a dream she had earlier that summer.  Like most dreams though, it had only stuck with her for a brief time the day after and then vanished entirely from her mind, such that only brief glimpses were dredged up in her mind.  She remembered being at SummerShine, her town’s annual summer festival, and there was soft serve, but the rest was a blank.  Had there been someone else with her?  If it was supposed to be an omen of things to come, then she was up the creek, but how bad could a dream about soft serve really be?

“Oh, hell yeah,” Nicole replied with a lick of her lips.  “I could go to town on some soft serve.”

“Well, we’ve got plenty for you,” Bollywood snickered.  “Right this way!”

Nicole and Ashton followed along until they reached a side room where Bollywood plugged the machine into a wall.  Her accomplice, the muscular fly half of the team, prepped the soft serve by pouring in water and bags of ice cream mix, all while Nicole watched with bated breath.  It was not long before the machine hummed with life, and after a few tests, it was ready for the party.

“Okay, who’s first?” asked Bollywood as she manned the pumps.

“Me!  Me, me, me!” Nicole cheered while striding over to the machine.  She briefly considered getting a bowl and spoon from the other room, but who had time for that when there was soft serve ready for the eating?  Instead, she slid her head under the nozzles and opened her mouth.

Ashton asked, “Nicky, you sure you don’t just want me to get you a bowl?”

“Fuck the bowl, just pour it in my mouth,” Nicole answered, determined to get her ice cream as soon as humanly possible.

“All right, just say when,” Bollywood replied before she pulled the lever for the vanilla/chocolate swirl and a thick ribbon of ice cream rolled out.

Nicole gurgled with contentment as the ice cream filled her mouth, slurping it down fast as she could to make room for more.  She remembered many a party where Bricktop was hoisted up by others and chugged through a keg stand, and she wondered if this was what it felt like.  The soft serve was cool, but not so cold as to give her crippling brain freeze; otherwise, she would not have been able to consume nearly as much as she had.  Instead, she greedily gulped down ice cream as her teammates watched on in amazement—and more, in Ashton’s case.

“Holy shit, the others have got to see this,” Bollywood remarked.  “Rex, man the pump for a bit; this demands an audience.”

Word spread quickly through the party that Nicole was putting on another one of her shows, and she soon had a crowd filling the room and then some to watch her guzzle soft serve.  She had been happy as a pig in mud while eating before, but having an audience goading her on only encouraged the greedy glutton to keep going.  No one quite kept track of how much she had packed away—certainly not Nicole herself—but the only thing that was certain was that no one could possibly match what she did.  Most would have stopped after just a few gulps, but anyone with good sense would have stopped when their stomach started to bloat up—not Nicole though.

“Come on, keep it going,” Ashton encouraged her friend, finally finding her voice again and rallying Nicole.  “You are an eating machine, Nicky—let’s see if you can’t drain this thing.”

Nicole let out a huff from her noise and gave a thumbs up to Ashton, not willing to throw in the towel when she had this much attention.  Unfortunately, while her spirit was willing to eat ice cream until her blood was hot fudge, her body simply could not keep up with the sheer quantity of soft serve left in the tank.  It started with a throb of pain in her stomach, and when her breaths came out hot and ragged, she knew that it was time to call it quits.  She slapped the machine and Rex turned off the pump to a chorus of cheers and applause.

“The Wrecking Ball, Nicole Valdez!” Ashton proclaimed as she held Nicole’s hand up.

“Make that…Butterball,” Nicole wheezed out while pumping a fist in the air, proud in defeat.

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After her brilliant display of gluttony at the party, Nicole finally earned that nickname that she had coveted throughout her freshman year—though it was not one she would have picked the year before.  Still, she embraced the role of Butterball with open arms, willing to chow down on anything and everything her teammates put in front of her.  Seeing the stout girl gorge herself was as much a spectacle as seeing someone do a keg stand, as she was able to make food disappear down her gullet like a magician.  She packed away more than three girls could handle, as she proved during the last party before Thanksgiving break, and she only stopped when she was within an inch of popping.

That gluttonous attitude was not reserved for get-togethers, as anyone who stopped by her and Ashton’s apartment would soon find out.  Nicole was an eating machine whether at home, in the dining hall, or out on the town; the only time she did not eat was in class, and even then, she would still try to sneak some snacks.  There were many times when she got so wrapped up in the thrill of eating that she lost all track of time and focused solely on filling her belly, which led to her picking at an empty plate in search of more food.

Many would have tried to discourage such unabashed hedonism, but the Cape Fear Bruins were like the daughters of Dionysus himself—they lived for debauchery and decadence.  They cheered Nicole on whenever she wolfed down an entire pizza on her own or ate her way through an entire plate of brownies, and they rewarded her with a copious amount of congratulatory pats on her belly.  And with so many supporting her gourmandizing ways, Nicole went whole hog and played up her status as Butterball to the fullest—though this was not without its consequences…

“Nicky, come on, we’re going to be late!” Ashton called out as she leaned against the kitchen counter.  “If we don’t get to the Quad fast enough, there won’t be any good tables left open, and I don’t want to deal with Wiki’s whining about it.”

“Cool your tits, Ash, I’ll be ready in just a second,” Nicole grunted from her bedroom.  “If these damn pants would just cooperate with me already!  Fucking…mierda!  Pendejo!  Hijo de puta!”

Ashton sighed and made her way over to the room, knowing that if Nicole was agitated enough to slip in some Spanish, she was bound to need some help.  What she could not have expected was catching her roommate bouncing on her feet in a vain attempt to squeeze her bulk into jeans that were a good two sizes too small.  Even though Nicole had only bought them the summer before, they were now so tight on her that she could not get them all the way up her backside without an ungodly amount of effort.  Her potbelly sloshed around like a water balloon, jostling free of her t-shirt, but that was the least of her worries at the moment.

So much fat and flabby Nicole made Ashton’s heart skip a beat, but she tried to focus on keeping their dinner appointment rather than the porker in front of her.  She cleared her throat and asked, “Need a hand there, Butterball?”

“I am perfectly capable of putting my pants on, thank you very much,” the stout girl growled, even though it was obvious she could not.  “Unless you feel like stuffing my big ass into these useless jeans, just go chill on the couch; I’ll be ready in a few.”

Tempting as it was to get her hands on that thick rump, Ashton swallowed her urges and made her way out to the common room.  She made a quick pitstop at the counter, where a dish of candy waited for either girl to get a sugar craving, and grabbed a handful of chocolate toffees.  While they were not the best thing for her, especially since she had put on another eight pounds over the past semester, Ashton could not help herself.  Living with Nicole made it all too easy to pick up on her eating habits, and being surrounded by so much food did little to help with her stress eating.

“Got to cut back at some point,” she muttered to herself as she sat on the arm of a chair, her thick thighs spreading out like pudding, “or I’ll be the one too big for my pants.”

After a few more minutes and two more trips to the candy dish, Nicole made her way out with a proud smirk on her chubby cheeks and her hands on her hips.  While she had succeeded in getting her pants all the way up, the fly was stuck halfway up and Ashton swore she could see the button holding on for dear life.  Such tight confines created a generous muffin top over the waistband of the jeans and a thick FUPA that caused her jeans to whisker, but Nicole was hardly put off by this.

“All right, who’s ready for some grub?” the stout girl asked.

“Nicky, you can’t be serious,” Ashton remarked as she tried her best not to stare.  “You look like you’re either going to pop those pants or they’re going to cut you in half!”

“Nonsense!  They’re just a little snug, but I’ll be just fine,” Nicole insisted. 

Her boasts proved to be nothing more, for when she clapped her hand on her stomach, the button burst free from her jeans and landed at Ashton’s feet.  The two girls stared at the busted piece of metal for a moment, then glanced back each other with faces tinted red for different reasons.  Both nibbled their bottom lip before Nicole broke the silence with a heavy sigh.

“Let me get my sweats,” she muttered before trudging back to her room, leaving Ashton to clean out the candy dish for some culinary relief.


Despite the wardrobe malfunction and candy consumption, Nicole and Ashton did not hold back when they got to the Quad’s food court.  The more weight-conscious Ashton opted for a chicken sandwich, waffle fries, and a strawberry milkshake—a sizeable order that she would not have considered the year before.  Seeing Nicole load her tray up helped take some of the sting off though, as the stout Latina got a foot long cheesesteak bursting with fixings, a large basket of fries, and a peanut butter and fudge smoothie.  Anyone who had popped their pants mere minutes prior would have scaled back their meal, but not the greediest girl on the rugby team; if anything, switching to sweats just gave her more room to fill her belly.

“Dang, Butterball, you know we’ve got a big game first thing in the morning, right?” asked Mozart as the duo approached the table.  “You sure you should be eating like that?  We’re already going to be bleeding all over the field; we don’t need your puke adding to the mix.”

“You kidding me, Mozart?  It’ll take a lot more than this to make me sick to my stomach,” Nicole hummed before popping three fries in her mouth at once.  “Hell, I might just top myself off before the game with a couple Belgian waffles from the cafeteria before we roll out.”

The girls at the table had no doubt about that, each having seen the way Nicole plowed through her food without batting an eyelash.  They had only ever known one other person who could eat more than her, and that was Vegas’s boyfriend, Corey, who was nearly as round as he was tall—and considering he stood nearly 7 feet, that meant all the more.  Still, as she had grown over the last year and a half, Nicole could give Corey a run for his money; by the time she was ready to graduate, she might even surpass him.

“Well, there is some science to that,” said Wiki, the team’s left wing and endless fount of trivia.  “Lots of people carbo-load before events: I’ve got a cousin who runs marathons, and she always has a big pasta meal the night before.”

Nicole rolled her eyes before taking a big bite of her sandwich.  “Science-shmience, I just do it because if I play on an empty stomach, I’m a wreck; you want us to win, then you need to let me fill this bad boy the night before.”

“Sort of like your own good luck ritual,” Wishbone replied, much to Wiki’s chagrin.  Just as she was the right wing to Wiki’s left, Wishbone was a devout believer in the superstitious, to the point that she carried a number of charms on her person at all times.

“I don’t know if it’s good luck or not, but it sure doesn’t hurt,” Nicole chuckled after taking a long sip from her smoothie.  “Just you watch: tomorrow, I’m going to score at least twice; if I don’t I will commit myself to a grapefruit diet.”

Ashton nearly choked on a fry when she heard that, and when she cleared her throat, she coughed, “Nicky, we all know that you’d stick to that for about an hour before you called it quits—least of all because you hate grapefruit.”

“It’s not my fault the Devil made it,” the stout girl retorted before she stood up from the table and adjusted her sweats around the swell of her belly.  “I’m going to get some more fries—anyone want anything while I’m up?  It’s on me.”

“We’re good, Butterball,” Mozart waved off Nicole.  Once the porker plodded back to the food court, the musically-inclined prop shook her head and remarked, “That girl’s got a one-track mind, I tell you; I’m surprised she’s not already three hundred pounds.”

Wiki nodded in agreement.  “No kidding: I swear she’s got a black hole in her stomach, and I have no idea how she can still manage to plow through everyone on the field.”

“I think it’s kind of cute, honestly,” Wishbone remarked as she craned her head around for a sign of her tubby teammate.  “She looks as fluffy as a teddy bear.  Larkspur, back me up here—doesn’t she look adorable with those chubby cheeks and that big, squishy belly?”

For the second time, Ashton almost choked on her food, but not from mirth this time.  There had been plenty of comments made about Nicole’s weight among the team—almost all positive—but this was new ground.  It was the same sort of stuff that Ashton thought about constantly but never vocalized, and hearing it from someone else was surreal, to put it mildly. 

Thankfully, she did not have to respond, as Wiki nudged her friend in the side and told her, “Wishbone, don’t make it weird; not everyone is a chubby chaser like you.”

“Who’s chasing?  I’m just pointing out a fact,” Wishbone replied, though she still kept one eye on the food court for a sign of the chubby Nicole.

Things returned to normal when the lardy Latina returned to the table, but Ashton could not shake the last few minutes from her head.  She stole some glances over at Wishbone and realized that the superstitious girl had her eye on Nicole as she worked on her fries; it was the same look that Ashton had whenever she watched her friend go to town on a dish.  Something bubbled up inside her as she wondered what was going through Wishbone’s head, and she dealt with it the only way she knew to deal with her feelings at that point—by wolfing down her food and going back for a box of nuggets.


True to her word, Nicole was the MVP of the game the following morning by scoring three tries all on her own.  The casual observer might have thought she was too fat to keep up with the rest of the girls on the pitch, but what Nicole lacked in speed, she made up for with sheer power.  It took at least two girls to take her to the ground, and even then, she would not go without a fight.  When she got moving though, she was often an unstoppable juggernaut, plowing through anyone and everyone on her way to the goal post.  Her bulky body made her the perfect battering ram, and she led the team to dominate with a final score of 42 to 14.

When Ashton and she arrived at the post-game party that evening, Nicole was showered with praise from all sides as people chanted, “Butt-er-ball!  Butt-er-ball!”

“I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to speak up,” Nicole teased as she cupped a hand around her ear.  “Who scored the winning try this morning?”

“Butterball!” the party cheered.

Nicole was given several congratulatory pats and claps as she waded her way towards the food—her go-to spot at any party.  She was quick to pile high a plate of goodies so heavy that the paper plate began to dip and she had to carefully bring it to a free seat.  Ashton joined her in the hopes of some time alone to watch her roomie gorge on pizza, but they were soon surrounded by a flock of Nicole’s fans and friends.  It was frustrating, but at least she could take comfort knowing that Nicole would be going home with her.

“I don’t know how you do it, but damned if you can’t prove me wrong,” Mozart chuckled.  “Seriously, Butterball, what’s your secret?”

Before Nicole could answer, Wishbone spoke up and exclaimed, “It’s all part of a healthy, balanced diet, of course!  You should have seen her eat at dinner yesterday; she must have eaten more than I did the whole day.”

“You’re not lying,” Nicole chuckled as she gave her stomach a pat.  “I think I crammed a few thousand calories in this sucker before we left the Quad.”

“Carbo-loading, like I said,” Wiki quipped.  “Our girl knows that she needs to cram in as many calories and carbs as she can to keep fuel in that tank.”

“We can’t lose, so long as Nicole keeps this well fed,” Wishbone hummed while patting Nicole’s belly, sending ripples through the pudgy mass.  “In fact, I have an idea.”

The superstitious girl swiped a piece of pizza from the stout Latina’s plate and held it out to her like a sacred treasure.  “Oh great and glorious Butterball, I wish I could be as awesome as you.  Won’t you please accept this offering from your humble teammate and grant me a killer game next week?”

The crowd laughed at the display, but Ashton was the only one to notice that Wishbone was not kidding.  There was a glimmer in her eyes, as if she really believed that Nicole eating her offering would make her a better player.  It was a ludicrous idea and everyone knew that, which was probably why Nicole went along with it with a grin on her face.

“Your offering is accepted, dear Wishbone,” the flabby flanker crooned in a bad impression of a British accent, “but with one caveat—you must also give my Buddha belly a rub!”

“Do it!  Do it!  Do it!” the crowd chanted, but Wishbone needed no incentive.  She brought the pizza up to Nicole’s lips and slowly slid it into her mouth until there was nothing left but crust.  When the slice was gone, the superstitious girl licked her lips and gently rubbed her hand along the soft, firm expanse of Nicole’s belly.

At the sound of Nicole cooing, Wishbone asked, “Does that satisfy you, Butterball?”

“Bet your sweet bippy it does,” the stout Latina hummed.  “You’re going to have a damn good match next week, but you might have an even better one if you give me another.”

While Wishbone gladfully accepted and the crowd laughed like a sitcom audience, Ashton did her best to hold herself together.  There was a storm of emotions going on inside her that she was having trouble processing, especially in the heat of the moment at the party.  She felt envy towards Wishbone for feeding Nicole and getting to rub her hands on that fluffy belly of hers.  She felt anger towards herself for not having the nerve to say something sooner and be the girl in that spot.  And more than anything, she felt desire for her plumping friend grow stronger and stronger with each bite.

By the time the party was over, Ashton had to help Nicole back to their place due to her being too bloated to move on her own.  The tattooed girl dragged her chubby friend back to her bedroom and tucked her into bed before making a midnight snack to ease the turmoil inside her chest…

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While most took it as a joke when Wishbone insisted that feeding Nicole and giving her belly rubs was the key to a great game, they were much more open to the idea when the wing scored three tries on her own—the most she had ever scored in a single game since joining the team.  There was no doubt that she was the MVP of the game, but she did not give herself any credit afterwards.  Instead, she wrapped an arm around Nicole’s shoulders and gave the flanker’s tummy a hearty slap.

“I owe it all to Butterball here,” the superstitious girl told her teammates.  “Feed her and give her belly rubs, and she’ll make you a star!”

Nicole might have blushed under the attention to her bulbous gut once upon a time, but she simply took the remark in stride.  She playfully elbowed Wishbone in the ribs and told her, “Down, girl.  I may look the part, but I’m no lucky buddha; I’m just damn good at being fat.”

Despite that assurance and how preposterous the idea was, a seed was planted in some of the players’ minds after that game.  This seed blossomed at the afterparty that night, when Bollywood and T-Rex approached her with plates of fried chicken—and given that Bollywood was a vegan and T-Rex was on a paleo diet, it was clear who it was for.

“Et tu, Bollywood?” asked Nicole as the outside center raised a juicy drumstick to her.

“Hey, couldn’t hurt to try,” Bollywood replied with a shrug.  “I’ve been in a bit of a rut so far this season, and I’ll take any chances I can to fix that.”

T-Rex answered in turn, “It’s not the pitch I’m worried about; I’ve been kicking ass since Day 1.  I’ve got a huge exam coming up soon though, and I’ve got to get at least a C on it if I want to keep my GPA high enough to get into the film school.”

Nicole did not believe for a second that she had magical luck-changing powers, but she was not one pass up free food—and though she would not admit it, that belly rub from Wishbone had been quite nice.  She nodded to the two girls and told them, “All right, give that chicken here, get those hands ready, and we’ll see what we can do for your luck.”

To the shock of everyone involved, Wishbone’s ritual paid off for Bollywood and T-Rex: the former managed to score two tries and keep the opposing team from scoring at the end of the game; the latter walked out of her exam having scored a B+, her best grade all semester.  It was ludicrous to think that Nicole’s belly had magic powers, but as more people attempted it, the more they came to believe in her fortune-shifting flab.  Girls were performing better at each consecutive game, and those who asked for blessings off the pitch found themselves just as fortunate, be it in school, work, or love.  And while Nicole still did not believe it herself, she was more than happy to be treated like a queen and fed delicious morsels at each party.

The only one that did not enjoy the new tradition was Ashton, who was the only one who never got in on the act—even Bricktop got a feeding in when she stopped by their apartment.  She tried to tell herself that it was because she did not believe in the hocus-pocus that Wishbone preached, but the truth was much deeper than that.  Ever since she first saw Nicole gorge herself at The Trolly Stop, she felt a rush every time her stout friend stuffed her face, and it had only gotten worse over the last two years.  Watching the team butterball eat was better than any porn she could find; the spectacles she put on at each party was almost enough to get Ashton gushing.

But how was she supposed to tell that to her best friend?   ‘Hey, Nicky, did you know that seeing you eat like a pig and get fat as one too makes me wetter than a river’?  Ashton had played out dozens of alternative scenarios in her head, but no matter how she thought about it, nothing sounded right to her.  So, rather than explain these screwy feelings to Nicole, she kept them bottled up and buried under an increasing amount of calories each day.  That would have been bad enough, as she passed the previous semester’s gain by the end of March, but there was an even worse consequence to her silence than outgrowing her favorite capris.

Wishbone, or Clover as she preferred to be called away from the team, had become rather chummy with Nicole since that first feeding.  It started with inviting both her and Ashton to events around the campus or town, then asking if they wanted to study together, and before long, she was dropping by like the wacky neighbor on a sitcom.  Anytime they got together, Clover had food for the three of them, but Ashton knew that the lion’s share of it was meant for Nicole, who readily gulped it down without guessing the meaning behind it.

As if that was not bad enough, the superstitious twit was basically saying all the things that Ashton wished she could say.  The tattooed brunette had thrown a few playful comments at Nicole, but Clover did not hold back when it came to teasing the chubby girl.  She enjoyed poking the Latina’s belly, pinching her love handles, and even giving her a slap on the backside now and then.  Her conversations were sprinkled with little remarks about Nicole’s ever-rising weight, like how her clothes were looking tighter than the last time she wore them.  It was everything Ashton wished she could do but kept bottled inside her, and it was driving her crazy in so many ways.

The current way was how she was struggling with her shorts.  It was not so long ago that Ashton had walked in on Nicole fighting with her jeans, and here she was, caught in the same battle.  They were the same white shorts she had worn when moving into the apartment, and while they had been snug back then, they were unbearable now.  She had wrestled them up her thighs as best she could, but no matter how much she wrenched them, they would not go any higher than her derriere.

“Come on, work with me,” Ashton hissed as she wriggled around, her thick thighs quivering with each movement.  “I can’t be that fat already…I haven’t been eating that much more than usual…”

No matter what she tried to tell herself, the evidence was right in front of her—or beneath her, as the case was.  Her thighs were thick with muscle and fat, so much so that they touched almost halfway to her knees, and her calves shared in some of that softness.  When she reached back to cup her rump, her fingers sank into spongy flab that wobbled like jelly when she released the chubby cheeks.  And while she never had rock hard abs like T-Rex, at least she did not have the paunchy belly that never seemed to move, no matter how much she sucked it in.  She was so busy focusing on Nicole’s gain that she put her own out of sight, out of mind, and she was reaping the consequences now.  How much longer would it be until she was as fat as Nicole?

Ashton pinched her thunder thigh to clear her mind.  “Don’t think like that.  You can get this under control; you never gained weight until this past year.  It just takes a little restraint and willpower, and you’ve got that in spades.”

“Yo, Ash, you ready to go yet?” Nicole called out, stirring Ashton from her musing.  “If we don’t get to the Quad soon, all the good food will be taken!”

“C-Coming!” the brunette squeaked as she shucked off the shorts and fished out a pair of CFU sweatpants—something she never thought she would wear out and about.  She tried to assure herself that it was just temporary, that she could rein herself in, but all her willpower went out the window when Clover teased Nicole for getting Chunky Monkey ice cream.  That resulted in Ashton going back for a second chicken sandwich and box of fries, further ensuring she would never fit in those shorts again…


Whatever was the cause of their good fortune, the Cape Fear Bruins killed it over the course of the season and went all the way to the state finals.  Excitement was running high among the girls, especially for those who had been on the team last year, since they failed to qualify then.  Ashton tried her best to focus on the big games ahead, but despite her best efforts, she still wound up putting on another few pounds by game day.  Nicole, for her part, pushed herself as hard as she could in order to make sure her team came out ahead in the end, though she still ate like there was no tomorrow.

Finally, the girls hopped on a bus and drove out a few miles upstate to the capital, where the state game would take place.  Both Nicole and Ashton brought plenty of snacks along for the ride, and despite Ashton’s best efforts to hold back, the snacks were gone well before they reached their hotel.  At least Clover was there to provide more, even though her goal was for the snacks to find their way into Nicole’s belly; Nicole, friend she was, made sure that Ashton got her fill too, much to the latter’s chagrin.

Once everyone had a chance to get settled into their hotel rooms, they were summoned to Bricktop’s cozy abode, which was more spacious than any of the others and allowed for the entire team to fit comfortably inside.  The first thing anyone noticed was that there were a number of pizza boxes sitting on one of the side tables; the second was that one of the chairs had been built up into a throne of cushions and pillows.

“What’s the occasion, coach?  We usually save the pizza for after the game,” Mozart remarked.

“That’s because it’s not for you—not all of it, at least,” Bricktop answered.  “Butterball, would you kindly come over here?”

Nicole walked over to the rambunctious redhead, partly confused but mostly wondering what the plan was for the five boxes of pizza.  When she stood by her coach, Bricktop wrapped an arm around her and explained, “I think it’s safe to say that we wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for Butterball here.  Not only has she been absolutely crushing it out on the field, but thanks to Wishbone’s mumbo-jumbo, you loonies have made this one of our most successful seasons in years.  That’s why I’ve prepared a little something to ensure that we make tomorrow a game for the ages.”

Bricktop guided Nicole back to the chair and, as she helped the chubby girl down into the pillowy throne, continued, “I don’t think there’s anyone here that hasn’t fed Butterball this season, but tonight, we’re going to go for the gusto and give her all she can manage.  This girl is a goddamn queen and our good luck charm, so let’s show her some love!”

As the entire team cheered for her and chanted her nickname, Nicole grinned from ear to ear and rolled her shirt up to expose the thick mound of blubber at her waist.  She gave her belly a wobble and told her teammates, “We’ve got a big game ahead of us tomorrow, so don’t skimp out on the pizza and belly rubs if you want to win!”

One by one, the Bruins got slices of pizza and formed a line in front of Nicole, eager to join in on what had become a new tradition for the team.  The only one who held back was Ashton, who stood off to the side and felt that all too familiar heat between her legs as Nicole licked her lips in anticipation.  She wanted so badly to join in on the action—the last time they would do this—but she could not bring herself to act out one of her many, many fantasies involving the bubbly butterball.  Even if she could write it off as playing along with the rest of the team, she was not sure she could go through with it—and as such, she made a swift exit to find some relief.

Nicole might have noticed her best friend vanishing from the scene, were her attention not stolen by the copious amounts of pizza awaiting her.  Instead, she rubbed her gooey belly, sinking her fingers into the fine layer of flab over an otherwise firm stomach, and giggled in anticipation.  She had imagined getting into all sorts of crazy shenanigans when she joined the Bruins, but she could never have foreseen a gaggle of girls lined up to feed her.  What more could she ask for?

“All right, let’s get this party started!” the butterball announced to a chorus of cheers.


Ashton never returned to the party in Bricktop’s room, opting instead to spend her time eating through the snack supply at the front desk and rubbing herself raw while she had some privacy.  She could only imagine what the hedonistic gathering was like, with Nicole’s belly slowly growing rounder and rounder as she ate her way through slice after slice, pizza after pizza.  And imagine it she did, again and again, until her hand began to cramp.  After all that and eating so many candy bars, bags of chips, and snack cakes that she thought she might vomit, Ashton was well and truly spent, feeling like little more than a puddle.

And yet, when Nicole waddled back to their room two hours after leaving, the tattooed girl felt like she could go another round.  Her friend’s belly was packed so full that all she could do was plod along like a heavily pregnant woman, jutting out proudly for all to see.  Even if she had bothered to roll her shirt back down from under her chunky chest, Nicole would not have been able to cover the full expanse of that girthy globe.  Despite looking like she had swallowed a beachball and huffing and puffing like a locomotive, the stout girl still had a beaming grin on her chubby cheeks.

“God, that was good,” Nicole murmured.  “I don’t think I could eat another—ooh, cupcakes!”

Ashton watched in amazement as the engorged Latina toddled towards the one remnant from her snack binge and wondered if Nicole truly had any limits.  If given the prospect, would she eat until she popped like a balloon?  Ever since she had embraced the idea of being the team butterball, Nicole had managed to surprise everyone by eating more than most humans, and were it not for a strict regiment of exercise, she would likely have been double her weight by now.  As it was, it was only a matter of time before her belly was that round on a regular basis, her capacity expanding endlessly.

After she unwrapped the cupcakes, Nicole prepared to take a bite from one before pausing and turning to Ashton.  She hummed, “Ash, you didn’t get to feed me, did you?”

“W-W-Well, I don’t really believe that stuff,” the brunette meekly replied.

“It’s not about believing it or not—it’s all about having fun,” Nicole explained as she made her way over to one of the beds.  It was a struggle to get onto the mattress, so full was she, but she managed to prop herself up against the headboard with a smile.  “Come on…I won’t bite.”

Ashton had told herself that she was not going to get in on this, that she would restrain herself, but with Nicole waggling a finger in her direction, she could not resist.  The tattooed girl’s mouth went dry as she walked over to her bloated friend, took one of the cupcakes in hand, and shakily brought it up to Nicole’s lips.  It was a challenge not to squeal when the flanker opened her mouth wide and ate almost the entire cake in one bite, all with her eyes half-lidded.

“Mmm…so good,” the chubby girl cooed.  “Don’t forget…rub…”

“Okay,” Ashton croaked as she licked her lips.

She brought her free hand down onto the plump, plush globe that sat in Nicole’s lap, so round and inviting, and gave it a rub.  Underneath a layer of pudge thick enough to pinch a literal inch was the butterball’s belly, packed so tight that Ashton wondered how Nicole was breathing, much less still eating.  Regardless, the brunette worked her hand over the expansive stomach, alternating between pressing her hand in and rubbing soft circles across the blubbery mass.  She must have been doing something right, because Nicole shut her eyes, clenched her toes, and groaned around her cupcake.

“God, you’re so good at this, Ash,” the stout girl moaned, one hand gripping her sheets while the other rubbed the side of her stomach.  “Why haven’t you done this before?”

It was a question that Ashton had asked herself time and again, and she still did not have an answer for it.  But as she felt that aching throb return inside her, she wondered how long she could go on holding back on her desires.  Bottling all this up had only succeeded in outgrowing her wardrobe and allowed Clover to sneak her way into Nicole’s graces; if she kept this up, she would be a fat, bloated mess without the girl of her dreams.  If she was going to do something about this, it would have to be that night—there was no other way.

“Because if I did, I might just do this,” Ashton whispered before leaning in and locking lips with Nicole, cream and crumbs sticking to her cheeks as she kissed her favorite butterball…

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This is probably my favourite part of all the Nicole stuff that you've wrote, I love, love, love how big and rotund Nicole's getting and her dynamic with her teammates and, especially at the end, with Ashton; absolutely fantastic work!

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What a chapter, especially that last part and what a cliffhanger, will Nicole flat out reject her? reject but come around to the idea or will she like it? I guess thats the questions.

I will be looking forward to the next chapter.

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5 minutes ago, DanishFan87 said:


What a chapter, especially that last part and what a cliffhanger, will Nicole flat out reject her? reject but come around to the idea or will she like it? I guess thats the questions.

I will be looking forward to the next chapter.

Thank you! And time will tell just how this goes over...

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