Outgrowing Love - Chapter Twenty-Five

[lsactt]

Thank you so much for all the kind messages! I really appreciate them and they help motivate me. I am already nearly done with chapter 20 but I will be holding back releasing it so I can get into a more realistic update pattern and avoid burn out again due to self inflicted pressure to update every two days 😅

[lsactt]

Chapter 20

“Woah, watch out!” I jolted out of my daydream as Roxana suddenly grabbed my soft arm, tugging me back as a car zoomed through a red light, tyres screeching, “Hey! Watch where you’re going, you dick!” my girlfriend shouted in vain as the car zoomed down the street, before looking with worry into my eyes, “You alright? Be more careful, Baby Belle, I saw that jerk wasn’t going to stop from a mile off.”

“Sorry…” I sighed, rubbing my eyes, “I was distracted. I haven’t been sleeping well, I guess.”

Roxana bit her lip as we reached the other side of the road, turning me around to look at me carefully, “…Maybe it’s the lack of vitamins. You used to have a balanced diet, you know? And now what you eat is mostly processed, fatty stuff. Maybe we should pick up some suppleme-“

“Rox.” I cut her off with an agitated sigh, and she bit her tongue, “I’m fine, I just go to bed with a bellyache nearly every night, usually with indigestion too.” A month had passed since Autumn and I had sex, another month of extreme overeating. Roxana kept me to a militant controlled calorie intake; her shift from prioritising fullness to actual high-calorie food was a welcome one. Accompanied by the gentle encouragement from Autumn to keep on eating, my weight was rocketing.  The window of remaining at just overweight was growing very thin, according to the NHS, anyway.

The dynamic with Autumn was a bit more than ‘gentle encouragement’, let’s be real. That was a chapter for another time, however. All that you need to know is that our wild passionate kitchen fling was not a one-off. Every time Roxana’s phone buzzed and she tried discreetly to turn the screen away from me, for whatever reason, it drove me back to Autumn. Long story short, I knew over-eating and fatness was sexy, but apparently there’s so many other sexy ways food can be involved in sex.

“Huh, you’re usually snoring before I drift off.” Roxana frowned, clearly doubting my lie.

“I don’t snore!” I protested, puffing my cheeks out angrily.

“Oh yes you do.” She giggled, poking my soft side, “You didn’t use to, but now you snort like a pig.  All part of the transformation, I guess.”

“…I-I don’t want to snore!” My cheeks flushed bright red at this new information, “That’s not cute and... pampered princess-like! Why didn’t you tell me before? Why don’t you wake me up?”

“It is cute.” Roxana disagreed with a smile, leaning forward to kiss my forehead, “I’m not on about snoring so deep and loud the walls shake; they’re just little snorts… again, like a piggy. I like watching you, your chubby face looks so adorable when sleeping, I couldn’t possibly wake you.” She pinched my cheeks, grabbing a fold of fat that definitely never used to be there. “So, I’m not sure I believe you – you know you can talk to me, right? I will always listen, and… I’ve worked so hard lately to be more open-minded; I mean surely you can tell it’s not just you into the whole feederism thing anymore?  If I can get used to that – if I can get into that – then nothing you tell me will bother me!”

I shot her an appreciative smile, leaning into her for a cuddle, “Thank you, Roxy… I really love you, and I’m sorry if I don’t show it enough lately. Don’t ever forget that.” I said seriously, internally hoping in vain that this comment now would just slightly soothe the chaos that would unfold should my secrets ever be revealed.

“Don’t be silly, Baby Belle.” Roxana replies softly, her eyes glistening slightly as if threatening to spill from emotion, “I’ve… mistreated you for so long, and taken you for granted. You have nothing to apologise for; you have literally done nothing to ever hurt or upset me in the four years I’ve known you. Despite everything I’ve done to you and made you feel, you stuck by me and forgave me. Truly, if perfect exists, it’s you.”

Oh, guilt. Please go away, you’re ruining the moment.

She’s only saying this because she’s guilty herself, don’t worry too much.

True.

“I… thank you.” I replied meekly, unable to meet her gaze and planting my face in her shoulder instead, taking in her scent as she wrapped her muscular arms around me, “All that’s in the past, right? I’m a new Belle, I think in many ways you’re a new Roxana, so together we’re a new… Roxelle? Bellana? Haha, I quite like Bellana…”

“How about not having a ‘ship’ name?” Roxana quipped back dryly, struggling to keep the amusement from her face, “But I get the point… and yes, I think I’m transforming in a lot of ways as well.”

“Yeahhh, you’re getting a tummy.” I giggled, prodding her rock-hard stomach which definitely was not the definition of a ‘tummy’.

“Tch!” Roxana huffed, batting my finger away as we separated, “I may not be so obsessed with being underweight anymore and may have put on a few pounds, but I certainly do not have a tummy. You’ve got enough of that for the both of us.” She pinched the soft blossoming roll of my belly which hung loosely over my waistband, “I find the confidence hot, but why don’t you… I dunno, tuck her – it – in?”

“She’s a her, thank you!” I declared crossly, not making any effort to stop Roxana squeezing me even as people passed us by, “And… I like her being out, I like the feeling. I get odd looks sometimes, but… well, I like those too.”

“Have I ever told you how weird you are?” Roxana shook her head with bemusement but didn’t seem put-off by my words – not like she would’ve been only a couple of months ago, “You’re a special one, Baby Belle.”

“And you’re lucky enough to be this special one’s girlfriend.” I grinned back, “You get the honour of being seen around town with my glorious curves.” I grabbed Roxana’s hand with my own and we resumed our walk into town. The aim was to hit the shops.  Not only were we shopping for Halloween costumes as the end of October quickly approached, but the time had come at last where I was in dire need of new clothes – my ‘fat clothes’ were now far too tight and bordering on inappropriate, especially with Christmas coming up where families would be visited and the temperature would be dropping, I needed some clothes that actually covered me up.  At the start of my journey, most of my outfits were sizes 4 or 6, with my bloated clothes being sizes 8 or the highest 10.  I figured I would now need sizes 12 or 14 – probably 12, to match my preference for tight clothing.

“How are you finding it?” Roxana asked in a soft tone as we walked, sounding slightly apprehensive, “Your weight, I mean.  You wanted to hit around 170 last I checked in, which you’ve now gone past… what’s next?” Panicking slightly, she continued, “N-Not that it’s a problem, of course, I’m just… wondering.  If… if you gain much more weight, well, are you going to be able to keep up this confidence?  A-As you’ll… well, you’ll go past what people consider a fairly normal weight in this day and age, you know? Only a few more pounds, and although you genuinely don’t look it, science will consider you… obese…” Her last word was a whisper, as if it was taboo. The thrill of being reminded of that sent shivers up my spine, however.

I gave a weak chuckle, squeezing Roxana’s hand to tell her it was okay, “I know what you mean, babe. You don’t have to overexplain; it’s more than enough that you’re able to enjoy feeding me and the sexy dynamic it’s formed between us, but I know you’re never going to turn around and tell me you want me fatter. That’s okay.” I took a moment then to consider her actual question – it was true, I weighed in this morning at 172 pounds – 12 stone 4. 175 pounds at my height would move me from overweight to obese in terms of BMI. I had to agree with Roxy though, I didn’t look it – you hear the word obese, and you think of huge bellies covered in stretch marks, multiple chins and walking with a waddle. God, Belle, why is that thought turning you on?

“When I started this journey, I genuinely thought I’d panic and stop long before this.” I continued softly, staring ahead as I pictured my former skinny self, full after only a couple of pieces of chicken, my stomach concave and my ribs visible. My belly was now round, soft and definitely protruding rather than sunken, and my ribs were buried now beneath multiple layers of soft fat, “Especially when I hit… overweight.  But I don’t want to stop… I really, really don’t. I feel like I’m still at the beginning of the journey, you know?”

“I… I see.” Roxana managed a nod and a weak smile, before saying in a genuine tone, “Well, I’m glad I get to keep feeding you, at least.  Do you… have a new goal?”

“208 pounds.” I replied without even having to think about it – a hundred pounds heavier than that time in the Sub House where I first met Autumn, where this all began.  Roxana seemed to recognise the number, giving another quick nod, “But if I’m being honest…?  I suppose that’s not really so much a goal as it is a milestone. I… I don’t think I’ll want to stop there, either.”

Roxana pulled me to a stop, taking a deep breath to compose herself, turning me gently to face her once more, “I promise I will do my best to keep supporting you, but I just… I need to know, from the most honest answer you can give me, genuinely when do you think you’ll want to stop?  It’s… a big change, you know – literally… when I picture our future, I’ve always pictured the Belle I went to college with, have lived with, went to the gym with. I know it… shouldn’t be important, but what should I picture now?”

“Well, that depends. When are we getting married?” I asked with a straight face.

I expected Roxana to be taken aback, for her eyes to widen and be flustered. Instead, she chuckled and said quite calmly, “Hopefully not too long.”  Instead, it was myself who was taken aback, speechless. Marriage had always been seen by us as a ‘when’ rather than an ‘if’, but for Roxana to talk so casually about it, especially considering both of us were having an affair with the same woman… what was she playing at?!

Maybe it’s because she’s not having an affair. Maybe you’re the only dirty cheater.

“Sorry… was that too forward?” Roxana asked with a worried frown, and I shook my head quickly.

“N-No… not at all. I…” I swallowed, “You know I’ve always wanted to marry you.” The words felt hollow, dishonest.

Roxana smiled affectionately, “I’m glad I haven’t ruined that, then.”

“No…” I said quietly, before switching back to her question, my voice slightly strained, “But I’m scared you might change your mind about that if I told you.” The taller girl before me had clearly been bracing herself for such a response, as she let the news hit her with barely a blanch, “I can’t see a point where I’ll stop wanting to gain.  I can’t explain just how… empowering, how freeing, how hot, it is to watch and feel my body getting bigger and softer.  That doesn’t mean there won’t be that point, after all the weight hasn’t really affected my everyday life – there will come a point where it will, and that might change my view on it.”

Roxana looked at the ground for a moment, processing my words with genuine attempt to understand, eventually saying in a gentle tone, “Okay.  Do you mind if I just throw a number out and you tell me – without thinking about it – whether… well, let’s say I could click my fingers and guarantee you will get to this weight, without you being able to stop it. Would you permit me to click my fingers?  Is that okay?”

I chuckled, “Sounds a fun game.  Try me.”

Roxana gave a small smile at my humour, taking a deep breath, “Three hundred pou-”

“Click those fingers, babe.” I replied, not even letting Roxana finish. In a less enthusiastic tone, I said, “I know that will be a difficult adjustment for you and I’m sorry, but… with just how little into the journey I feel having gained nearly seventy pounds, I am 99.9 percent certain that I will get past that. Probably in the next two years, so if you’re looking for a new way to imagine me in a wedding dress, I’d aim that big as a minimum.”

“Wow, okay.” Roxana blinked, shifting a little uncomfortably, having clearly not expected such a definite answer.  I felt some sympathy for her; she was already adjusting her mindset so much to accommodate the fact I’d put on any weight, the fact I wanted to put on weight, to losing her permanent gym buddy of four whole years. I wondered how she would even be able to process the image of her girlfriend being triple the weight of where she started? After a surprisingly short time, Roxana straightened her shoulders, looked me in the eye, and nodded, “I wanted honesty.  It’s not possible, truly, for me to try and comprehend… that. But it’s not like you’re going to wake up tomorrow at three.. hundred pounds, so I just need to… get accustomed to how you change every day, and maybe… maybe when it gets to that point, it won’t be inconceivable for me.”

I leaned up to kiss her cheek, before grabbing her defined jaw and turning her face to next plant a meaningful kiss on her lips, “Thank you, babe. I know there’s a hell of a lot more going on in your head than what you just said, but I truly appreciate how hard that must have been.  And… I want you to know, if you ever… well, if you ever stop finding me attractive, I’d want to know. It’s… not fair for you to stay in a relationship with someone you’re not attracted to.”

A flash of hurt crossed Roxana’s features, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “You’d choose being fat over m-?! Agh…” She cut herself off, catching herself, but not before the words already came out, “Sorry… Belle, don’t answer that, I’m sorry.”

The question had stung, my mind instantly screaming ‘Yes!’ before I took a longer moment to think on how incredulous that sounded. Was it normal? To choose something as outlandish as intentionally getting fat as more important than the girl I supposedly loved? It’s not like I had some condition that made my weight uncontrollable, it’s not even a case that I’d get there by accident – either through depression or simply not making healthy choices. When I reach three hundred pounds, it would be because I intended to be three hundred pounds. Would it really be a horrible thing for somebody to be repulsed by that, to not want to be with someone for it?

Autumn had told me before that Roxana would be in the wrong if she dumped me for getting fat, and I would certainly have that view on anybody else in a normal situation. But there was a difference – dumping someone for putting on weight by accident was shallow. What was dumping someone for intentionally ruining their body? Was losing attraction in that scenario really any more controllable than the fact Roxana wasn’t attracted to men?  Was it any more controllable than my own need to gain weight?

I pictured the scenario of Roxana telling me she didn’t find me attractive anymore, wondering how that would feel. A heavy lump settled in the pit of my stomach as my mind leapt to Autumn as the first instinctual thought – I could stop feeling guilty, I could date Autumn instead, I could date the girl who’d already clearly told me she’d find me sexy at five hundred pounds, possibly even more.

What the fuck was wrong with me?!

“Rox…” I finally said quietly, almost numbly. I needed to do something with the tornado of thoughts constantly racing around my skull – I was so lost and confused, “It’s not as simple as choosing that over you… I’d want to know because I would genuinely consider that in my decision.” I didn’t even know if that was a lie, “Like… what’s the point of being fat and happy in myself, but alone?” I wouldn’t be alone. “I’m sorry, I worded it clumsily… I’m not saying I’d just dump you and keep stuffing my face, I wouldn’t want to lose you. I’m just… saying I’d want to know.”

“I-I get it…” Roxana replied in a shaky tone, frustratedly wiping a tear away. It was strange, ever since things had opened up between Roxy and I, she was showing her emotions a lot more. She used to be much more controlled, close to cold even, and rarely cried. “Thank you for being honest, that’s what I asked for…” she took a deep, shuddery breath, before making eye contact with me again and asking, “Four hundred?”

This time, I did stop to think – you were guaranteed to see somebody around three hundred pounds in the street, with the rising levels of obesity in the world (save us all from the hotness), it wasn’t a stop-and-stare moment. Four hundred, though, I saw women that were likely around that weight and I couldn’t help but look – even if only a non-judging glance. People staring at my jiggling tummy or my too-small bikini bottoms that barely covered my ass now was a turn-on, but I had no way of knowing how I would feel when those stares turned from 90% ‘oh wow, that girl’s sexy’ and 10% ‘put some clothes on!!’ to 99% ‘ew, that’s disgusting’, 0.9% ‘respect to her, you go girl’ and 0.1% ‘oh wow, that girl’s sexy’.

“…I wouldn’t have you click your fingers.” I replied finally, looking into Roxy’s eyes, before continuing, “If you want honesty, I think I’ll want to get to that weight – and probably beyond, but there is certainly a chance of me changing my mind before that stage, especially if you stop finding me attractive.”

“Belle, I will always find you beautiful.” Roxana quickly interjected, meeting my gaze seriously, “A hundred pounds or a thousand, I will always love you, I want to be clear on that.  I can’t lie to you, will I look at you at those weights and feel the same attraction and desire to just… rip your clothes off that I do now? No, probably not. But believe it or not, I’m not as shallow as you might think… you are beautiful and attractive on the inside, you are the kindest, purest person I’ve ever met.” She hesitated, “And for what it’s worth, if you’d asked me back when you were 108 pounds if I’d find you attractive at 170, I’d have said the exact same thing. And yet, I look at you now at 170 pounds, and want nothing more than to tear your clothes off.” Her cheeks darkened slightly as she looked away, “…I don’t think I’ve ever said this directly, but I find you sexier as you are now than when you were skinny. I-I think it’s a lot to do with the increased confidence, bu-“

It took at least sixty seconds for Roxana to manage to push me away, muttering about public indecency as we separated, both chests heaving and clothing slightly crinkled. An old lady grumbled something about ‘inappropriate youths’ as she hobbled past, but we ignored her.

“Jesus, Belle…” Roxana gasped, tugging her tank top down from where I’d been scrambling to get underneath, “I only need to say the slightest thing nowadays and you’re all over me!”

I pouted, “You just admitted you find me sexy when chubby!” I still didn’t see myself as chubby, barely even pudgy, but Roxana absolutely did.

“Wasn’t it obvious before?” Roxana asked with a laugh.

“C’mon, tell me more!” I bounced on the spot, causing Roxy to roll her eyes and start walking again. I hurried after her, feeling my tummy jiggle, “What’s your favourite part of chubby Belle, huh?!”

“That I can shove a piece of food in your mouth and shut you up for a few seconds.” Roxana retorted dryly, reaching into her bag and taking out a mini packet of cookies, tossing them my way, “Such as now. Let’s go, or the shops will be shut before we even get there and your Halloween costume will be naked fat girl.”

“Mm, tempting.” I giggled, “My tummy’s free display for all, but the tits and ass are just for you, darling.” And Autumn. I ripped open the packet, shoving three of the small biscuits into my mouth immediately, “Wha’s your fa’rite par’?!”

Roxana sighed with exasperation, knowing that nothing would make me relent, “…Your butt. It’s very… bouncy. And… it’s weirdly hot when your belly’s full and round… you’re all sleepy and cute… a-and fully at my mercy!” This was definitely torture for her to admit, and I felt she added the last part just to redeem some face. I stared at her in shock, but before I could find a way to respond, she said in a hurried tone, “Enough of that! I’ll race you to the shop.”

As Roxana tore off at lightning speed, I stared in dismay at her retreating form, and then down to my softer body that hadn’t done any running for several weeks now, and finally to the remaining cookies in my hand.

Three guesses at what I prioritised?

Munch, munch.

***

“Hey ladies, do you need any help?” We looked around to the young shop assistant as she approached with a cheerful smile, far too cheerful to be a legitimate enthusiasm to aid us. The girl barely looked eighteen, probably here as a part-time job to get her through college. Roxana and I were browsing the displays in M&H, a popular high street clothing shop – I had expected Roxana to be encouraging me to buy clothes that would actually fit nicely, but she was actually looking at smaller sizes than I was!

“Oh, yes please.” Roxana answered with an oddly sweet smile before I had chance to reply. The assistant looked a little surprised that someone actually said yes to the half-hearted offer. Her diligent smile returned, however, and Roxana continued to say, “My beautiful girlfriend here is in need of some new outfits. As you can tell, her current clothes are bursting at the seams, haha!”

Oh, fuck.

I wondered who looked more astounded by what Roxana just said so blasély, me or the assistant? The girl glanced towards me, her eyes darting down to examine my tight clothes and the soft gut hanging out of my jogging bottoms, a hint of pink caressing her cheeks as she quickly looked anywhere but me, “U-Uh… ahem. Well, o-of course, what kind of style are you looking for?”

Once again cutting in before I could open my mouth, Roxana is quick to respond, “Oh, I think she could do with being measured first. Don’t you think, Belle?”

I swallowed apprehensively, unsure on how I felt about a total stranger getting so close and intimate to me, but it didn’t take long for me to realise I was surprisingly okay with that. The assistant in front of us was skinny, almost as thin as I used to be, and it was exciting in a perverse way to know that she would probably be silently judging me, maybe repulsed as she has to make contact with the fat coating my body as she pulled the measuring tape tight. I gave a quick nod, stammering, “S-Sure!”

The girl, whose nametag I now noticed read ‘Leah’, looked very much like she wished she’d taken a late break to avoid us crazy customers.  But knowing she had to grin and bear the next few minutes for the sake of her ‘customer satisfaction’, she forced another smile and said, “No problem at all. Follow me please, ma’am.”

I felt Roxana’s sharp nail dig into the pudge of my hip as she jabbed me to go on after her, and I squeaked before hurrying forward.  Leah led us into the changing rooms at the back, gesturing for me to enter one of the stalls before her.  As Roxana tried to enter as well, Leah quickly stepped in front of her, looking to the tall and muscular beauty towering above her and meekly saying, “S-Sorry, ma’am… I can’t let you in too, store policy, you’re welcome to wait outside though.” Roxana glared down at her, weighing the options in her mind, before simply side-sliding past the poor assistant into the stall anyway.

Leah opened her mouth to argue, but likely realised that causing a fuss would just prolong the pain of this encounter for her. She sighed, sliding the curtain shut and pulling a tape measure out of her trouser pocket.  She looked to me, giving a nod, “We’ll start with your bust… can you remove your top and bra please, for an accurate measurement?” I took a deep breath, before pulling my tight crop top free of my plump body, the constricting material catching on my boobs on the way up and leaving them jiggling for a few seconds after, dangerously close to spilling from my pinching bra. I realised I was sucking my tummy in, an instinctive reaction despite the fact my stomach was already on show even dressed.

I then reached behind my back, feeling the fat around my neck fold as I bowed my head to better my reach, unclasping the bra. I gave a sigh of relief as the poor girls were freed from their tight shackles, expanding forward.  I felt the increased weight of them as they wobbled with the help of gravity, but (thankfully) remaining near perfectly round as opposed to sagging. I saw myself in the mirror, looking at the angry red marks from the band. I noticed that under my arms as the band carried around to my back, the marks were more of a purple, looking like scarring.  Regardless of my preference for tight clothes, I definitely should have upgraded my bra sooner.

“Ouch, my poor Baby Belle…” Roxana winced, even though she already knew how bad it was – in her defence, she had been pestering me to get new bras for ages.  Leah, respectfully not looking directly at my large boobs, pressed the cold material of the measure against the skin just under my breasts, causing me to shiver, and proceeded to measure under my bust with practised precision. She then repeated the exercise around my boobs, the cold tape not exactly helping with the humiliation and arousal of this situation.

“Your band size is thirty-six inches, and your bust size is thirty-nine inches, making you a 36C cup size.” Leah explained as I start putting my bra back on, “Um… I really, really advise you get some new bras as soon as possible, not having the right support can cause a lot of harm.”

“I’ve been telling her for ages.” Roxana sighed dramatically, “I keep waiting for that band to snap and those growing melons to poke someone’s eye out, y’know?”

“Rox!!” I exclaimed, cheeks turning bright red.

“Th-That doesn’t seem appropriate…” Leah commented, flustered, trying but failing to keep her eyes off of said growing melons as I struggled to get my pudgy arms at the right angle through the strap, “Uh… here, let me help.”

“Long way to reach nowadays.” Roxana giggled, a smirk on her lips, before settling to being more quiet – she didn’t want to risk actually getting kicked out of the stall, after all.

Next came my waist after Leah requested I remove my jeans. Fortunately for my skin, I wore them beneath my wobbly gut, and so my tummy’s skin remained flawless without any red marks from the tight jeans that would certainly have been present had she been tucked in.   I examined the shape of my belly in the mirror, once flat but now a dominant eye-catching feature of my frame, rounded and yielding to the touch.  She climbed like a hill from beneath my breasts until reaching the peak just under my belly button, sticking out just ahead of my boobs now, forming what I knew would eventually become a hang as currently the very lower part of her curved down over just above the top of my panties.  A slight dip now formed between the bottom of my ribcage and the flare of my hips.

As the tape snaked around my middle, I once again resisted the urge to suck in, the habit of vanity of trying to make myself look as thin as possible when younger for photos, or even to ward off any comments from Roxana on the rare occasion I drank or ate too much and was a little bloated. I had nothing to hide or be ashamed of, I was beautiful, in a modest way of course. I watched in the mirror as the tape slightly pinched my hips slightly, causing the layers of fat above and below it to fold over the plastic, an arousing sight.  “Better hope they have clothes big enough to hide that big belly, Baby Belle.” Roxana whispered into my ear, although I’m pretty sure Leah still heard it. My cheeks reddened, and I shifted my legs slightly – now was not a good time to get turned on.

Finally, Leah measured my hips and then one of my thighs, at which point Roxana chuckled, “Those thunder thighs could give a pillow a run for its money in terms of softness. You know they used to be muscular?” Not surprisingly, Leah didn’t reply.

After rising back to her feet and composing herself from this highly awkward encounter, Leah reported finally, “Your waist is thirty-three inches, your hips forty-seven-and-a-half inc—”

“Jesus Christ!” Roxana exclaimed, jaw dropping, “Damn… thicc.”

Ignoring her, Leah continued, “…And your thighs twenty-four inches each. I would suggest either size fourteen or sixteen for tops, and either size eighteen or twenty for trousers.” Immediately in my mind, that translated to size twelve for tops, and sixteen for trousers, “Did you want some help finding some outfits? Once again, I… uh, I strongly recommend you getting some new bras at least.”

The assistant suggested some outfits that would be a perfect fit, but Roxana had other plans. She insisted on smaller sizes, turning the shopping trip into a game of sorts. In the fitting room, the reality of my size hit me with each garment I struggled to put on. Jeans that wouldn't go past my thighs, shirts straining against my boobs, skirts that clung too tightly to my hips – each piece a reminder of my transformation. Each driving me so crazy I was starting to get nervous about standing in my underwear in front of Leah, who Roxana insisted stayed to see each outfit. Poor girl, I should find a way to tip her.

Roxana's eyes sparkled with mischief as she helped me squeeze into an outfit that was clearly too tight. The dress clung to every curve, my inflated butt and swollen stomach prominently displayed. "Look at you, my overweight Belle," Roxana whispered, this time definitely too quiet for Leah to hear, "You've eaten your way out of your entire wardrobe, you’re getting… fat.” I could’ve melted there and then.

With every struggle to button a shirt or zip up a skirt, my arousal grew. Leah’s presence only heightened the thrill, her eyes occasionally widening at the sight of how inappropriate some of these outfits looked on me. Roxana seemed to thrive on this, her teasing words and touches becoming more daring.

"Perhaps we should consider more... accommodating styles," Leah suggested hesitantly, clearly uncomfortable with the scene unfolding before her.

Roxana waved her off, her focus entirely on me. "No need! Look at her, she’s loving it, that’s the reason for this wardrobe mess to start with.”

As we continued the charade, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride mixed with my embarrassment. Roxana's teasing, her comfort in showing me off in this way without being ashamed of me or wanting me to cover up, filled me with a sense of worth. The humiliation, once a source of anxiety, was now a catalyst for my growing confidence.

Finally, we settled on a few outfits that flattered my new figure – tight, but in an appealing way that proudly showed my curves. Roxana's approving nods and whispered praises were all I needed to feel content. As we left the store and a likely traumatised Leah behind, her arm wrapped possessively around my waist, I realized that this was more than just a shopping trip. It was a celebration of my transformation, a testament to the journey Roxana and I were on together – a journey of acceptance, indulgence, and love.

Maybe it wasn’t a love that needed outgrowing, maybe it wasn’t a love that should leave me wanting more?  Maybe Roxana was enough.  But as my tummy growled, discontent that she hadn’t been fed since lunch, I realised that there was little chance of stopping my body from growing anytime soon. There was little chance of me stopping from grabbing everything I want.  Food, luxuries, attention, sex… my body wanted it all.

[lsactt]

Chapter 21

“I somehow doubt these wings will support your plump body, Baby Belle.” Roxana commented in a dry tone as she finished straightening the pair of fairy wings on the back of my costume, “I don’t think Tinkerbell had such a round belly and big ass.”

I giggled excitedly, doing a twirl before my girlfriend, “Who needs to fly anyway?  My sexy strong fairy queen can carry me!”

“Fortunately for you, I’ve kept on top of my workouts lately.” Roxana chuckled, “My biceps have never been so big, but I’m determined to keep being able to lift you for as long as possible.”

Today was Halloween, and tonight we were heading to a party at one of our mutual friend’s homes. We hadn’t seen our friends for a while, with our lives and schedule being so busy lately – especially with my new job which often involved working the evening shift. The last time we had seen them was back in May, and a shiver ran down my spine as I remembered that I looked vastly different from just five months ago – over sixty pounds heavier. None of them had ever seen me heavier than 126 pounds, and even then, that was only Kyle who had been in our food nutrition classes. Liam, Ethan, Sophia, and Nadia we had met during the university years but after I lost nearly twenty pounds, and therefore had only known the underweight version of me. They were in for a shock.

Although a large part of me was excited for their reactions, an even bigger part of me was apprehensive.  Apart from Roxana, who saw me every day and watched me grow in real time, this would be the first time somebody who knows me would see my transformation. What would they think? Would they still want to be my friend? Would they try and encourage weight loss and start offering me ‘support’ and exercise advice?  Maybe some of them would like it and find me prettier…? Hell, maybe they wouldn’t even notice?

Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve gone from skeletal to round.

They’d definitely notice. I wanted them to notice, I just wanted their reactions to be positive. But also demeaning. But not meanly. Just teasing. Did that make any sense? Probably not.

“Go on then, admire yourself in the mirror.” Roxana instructed, gently taking my shoulders and turning me to face our bedroom mirror. I did as ordered without complaining, very eager to see Roxana’s work.  The girl looking back at me was almost a stranger, a bizarre feeling I experienced quite often lately.  Only a few months ago, I would look at my reflection and see the same skeletal girl every day – unchanging, unhappy, unimportant.  Now, however, everyday showed me something different – showed me more.

I looked radiant – even behind the makeup and glittery costume, my blue eyes sparkled with life and energy. My smile lit up my being, lit up my soul, lit up the room.  I realised now that there was a difference between feeling happy and being happy – feeling happy was a fleeting moment, a reaction to a positive event, whilst being happy was a constant. Happy with my body, happy with my life, happy with my job…

Happy with being a cheater.

The sparkle faded slightly.

Clinging to my upper body was a tight, shimmering green bodice, accentuating the gentle swell of my fuller breasts—now resting much more comfortably in one of my new bras—and the newfound curves of my waist. This contrasted starkly with the girl who once stared back from the mirror, her form more shadow than substance, a wisp of who I was now. The bodice hugged my figure in a bold embrace, a testament to my transformation and the confidence it had ushered in. Slightly pinched at the sides, the bodice created a slight ‘muffin top’, an appealing small roll of fat spilling gently over my skirt.  A fake belly ring, golden and glittery, dangled from my navel, winking in the light.  The top of the bodice, daringly low-cut, played up my cleavage, while the back dipped low enough to offer a glimpse of the small of my back, blending vulnerability with boldness in my newfound silhouette.

The skirt was a darker green – short, playful, and translucent, fluttering around the top of my thighs in asymmetrical layers that swirled whenever I moved, akin to the whimsical nature of a fairy in flight.  The material was deliberately short at the front, exposing my thick thighs encased in fine fishnet stockings, soft and inviting as they lead down to vine-patterned garters covering my calves.  It wasn’t much longer at the back, only just covering my expanded rear, almost teasingly.  I knew I needed to be careful (or not careful, if it was Roxana behind me…) bending over tonight.

The wings Roxana had attached to me were green-tinted and glittery, and strappy sandals with heels were on my feet, fake leaves attached to the straps to complete the woodland vibes. Finally, my hair was styled to be extra wavy, a tiara of fake flowers placed at a slight angle to perfect the look.  My make-up was light and natural, my fuller cheeks tinted pink, my eyeshadow glittery and my lips bright red and inviting.

“I look… amazing.” I breathed as I took all of this in, examining my side profile and marvelling at the way my tummy protruded.  I looked chubby and cute, if there was a best costume award at this party, I’d certainly win it!

Roxana looked almost as perfect, though, my God she looked hot.  Whilst I was the cute, fluttery woodland fairy, innocent and pretty, Roxana was the opposite.  She was the dark fairy queen, exuding an aura of dominance and control that fit her oh-so-perfectly.  Her athletic, toned physique was – if anything – enhanced by the tight clothes, her muscles and abs bulging even through her black bodysuit of velvet, prominent to all. Along the sides of the bodysuit was intricate silver embroidery, mimicking the thorny vines of an enchanted forest, making her appear dangerous whilst still enchanting like a fairytale.

As well as the bodysuit, Roxana wore a striking, high-collared cloak that cascaded down her back – a shimmering, dark fabric that shifted colour subtly from deep purple to midnight blue, depending on the light.  It was fastened at her neck with an ornate silver clasp shaped like a spider, which to me symbolised her enthralling and ensnaring nature – she was the predator, the black widow, whilst I was the prey, the helpless… I don’t want to call myself a fly, that’s a bit weird.

My sexy girlfriend’s legs were encased in high, lace-up boots made of black leather that reached up to her mid-thighs, complementing the bodysuit and emphasising her powerful quads. The boots had a heel taller than my own, elongating her already imposing stature and further increasing the height difference between herself and me. Every step she took would command attention, and I was lucky enough to have her at my side.

Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek, high ponytail, highlighting the sharp contours of her face and the predatory gleam in her dark-lined eyes as she gazed at me like I was a (round) piece of meat, her tongue licking her blood-red lips.  Around her neck was a choker made of black leather and silver, from which hung a single, dark crystal pendant, sparkling and drawing in the gaze of all who beheld her.  For a moment, I forgot it was a fake accessory – it went so well with her outfit, that it looked genuinely like it could contain dark, sinister magic.

Roxana turned from our reflections to grab the final accessory of her costume as we prepared to leave – a whimsical yet sinister scepter, fashioned to resemble a twisted, ancient tree branch. It was topped with a large crystal (that glowed in the dark, cool right?) that matched her pendant. The fancy stick completed her transformation into the true dominant, enchanting figure that matched her perfectly.

We made a beautiful pair, a contrast of light and darkness, of innocence and seduction.  The plump princess and the cunning queen.  We would take this party by storm!

“Are you ready, my enchanted beauty?” Roxana asked in a soft tone.

“Yup! There had better be snacks.” I replied, patting my soft stomach.

“…Yes, dear.” Roxana rolled her eyes, “But remember your costume is a regal fairy princess, not the ravenous fairy.”

“I can be regal and ravenous!” I protested, and Roxana couldn’t help but smile as she shook her head, leading me out of our flat and towards the taxi waiting downstairs. As the taxi wove through the city's festive streets, I sat silently, my hand finding Roxana's in the dim light. My heart fluttered with a mix of excitement and anxiety, each heartbeat a reminder of the eyes that would soon be on me. Roxana gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, her presence a steady anchor amidst the storm of my thoughts.

***

The half-moon was high in the sky when Roxana and I stepped out of the taxi, the sound of music, chatter, and laughter immediately filling our ears. I straightened my tiara and smoothed over my skirt, ensuring my butt wasn’t on show, taking a deep breath. There were a few people mingling on the street, drinks in hand, but nobody that I recognised – that reveal would come later, it seemed.

“Shall we go get a drink?” Roxana asked, stepping up to my side and touching my arm reassuringly, as if sensing my apprehension. She whispered into my ear, “Hey, if I can get on board with you gaining weight, the guys will be fine. Liam probably won’t notice, Sophia and Ethan are too polite to say anything, and Nadia will likely gush about how great you look.”

“And Kyle?” I looked up at her with some apprehension, easily noting the missed friend from her list.

Roxana hesitated, before saying, “If he says anything, he won’t mean it as an insult. He just says things how it is, y’know? Just remember, I’m always here to sweep my fairy princess off her feet – in more ways than one.” I managed a small smile and nodded, my heart fluttering in appreciation for her.  It was short-lived as I glanced down, however, struggling to see my belly past my boobs, suddenly wishing I had worn something that covered my stomach – maybe this was too out there for this reunion, and the crop tops and belly outfits could’ve waited for next time. But it was too late for that now, me and Belly will be walking through the door together.

Liam’s house (he was hosting) stood out from the rest of the street due to the sheer number of decorations. Lit pumpkins, fairy lights, a faux cobweb draped over the front window, hanging skeletons and more. As we made our way through the front door, we were surprised by just how many people were crammed into this small house – there must be at least forty! The living room had been transformed into a makeshift dance floor, and I wondered where Liam had even put the furniture.

The air was thick with the smell of buffet food, alcohol and sweat. A makeshift photo booth had been set up in the corner of the room, complete with a backdrop of a spooky looking forest and an assortment of cheap props for guests to pose with.  With everybody dressed in wacky costumes of varying insanity, it truly was a scene to behold. Witches mingled with vampires, ghosts hung out with superheroes, a unicorn laughed alongside Elvis. Now, a chubby woodland fairy and her dark queen had joined the party.

“Ahoy!” A pirate moved his way through the crowd towards us, a wide grin on his face.  Complete with a billowing what shirt open at his chest, tight black trousers, and knee-high boots, he sported a tricorn hat upon his dark hair tied in a ponytail and wore a fake hook for his left hand.  His beard was carefully trimmed, adding to the roguish charm his outfit presented. Liam was a friend I made one summer whilst at uni – I had signed up for a summer culinary workshop, and Liam was my partner. He was always the life of the party, a typical jokester and overall a laid-back, friendly guy. “Belle, Roxy, two beautiful fairy goddesses!”

He pulled Roxana, who was slightly ahead of me, into a one-armed hug, careful to keep his hook away from poking her anywhere painful.  He then looked to me, grinning and moved to embrace me as well – my heart started to settle as he didn’t seem phased by my new appearance a we hugged, his strong aftershave filling my nostrils, “You are looking radiant!  I’m so glad you could both make it, do either of you want a drink?!”

“Surprise me with a Liam-famous homemade cocktail.” Roxana responded with a smirk, “I’m very sure you’ll have made one, am I right?”

“Ooh, I’ll have one too please!” I chimed in excitedly, remembering the amazing cocktails he had made for us in the past.

“You’re in for a treat, ladies!” Liam winked, gesturing for us to follow him to the drinks counter in his kitchen, gesturing to a large bowl in the shape of a carved pumpkin, “My pumpkin spice martini!  Pumpkin spice liqueur, vanilla vodka and heavy cream!  And some orange food colouring to make it look extra… pumpkinny.”

“That sounds amazing!” I exclaimed, the ‘heavy cream’ ingredient remaining key in my mind – getting ** and high calories? What luck!  Roxana gave me a knowing glance, rolling her eyes in a jokey manner, “Give me a large cup!”

“Are any of the others here?” Roxana asked as Liam poured us both a drink from the orange cocktail bowl – mine significantly bigger than Roxy’s.

“Yeah, Ethan and Nadia arrived ten or so minutes ago.” Liam replied, glancing over his shoulder, “I think they’re in the back garden. Ethan looks creepy as hell, and Nadia… well, you won’t be surprised by her costume.  Sophia and Kyle should be coming too, but I haven’t seen them yet.” Handing Roxana and I our cups, he glances to the door, “Excuse me, more guests to be a’greeting! Good to see you both.” He paused before leaving, glancing at me again, before grinning, “You’re looking great – both of you.”

Although he’d added the last three words, I could tell he was talking mainly to me, and I smiled slightly as I watched him hurry towards the front door.  I knew Liam wouldn’t care, he had a big enough heart that he probably sensed my nerves and wanted to reassure me.  I took a sip of the cocktail, sampling the taste on my tongue, giving a hum of approval before swallowing the dense drink.  I felt the warmth of the alcohol fill my tummy, enjoying the aftertaste – maybe tonight would be fine after all.

“Shall we go find the cringey couple?” Roxana asked, sipping on her own drink with approval.

“You realise they probably think we’re the cringey couple, right?” I retorted with a giggle.

“We’re allowed,” Roxana shrugged loosely, “We’re perfect. They’re nothing on us.” I grinned, leaning up to kiss her cheek in appreciation of her words, before we headed through the crowd towards the back door.

The back garden was just as decorated as the front, with a firepit crackling away in the centre. Several garden chairs were dotted across the grass, and the music continued to play from an outdoor speaker hanging on the wall.  We looked around, trying to spot the familiar faces of our friends, before Roxana eventually spotted and pointed to a couple sitting near the firepit cuddling on a chair.  A vampire and a… cat? Of course Nadia was a cat.

“Original costume, Nadia.” Roxana spoke loudly as we approached, causing the cat-girl to flinch in shock, “…And looking positively terrifying, Eth.”

“Says the one sneaking through the dark!” Ethan smirked, allowing Nadia to climb off of him as he climbed to his feet.  His costume was a nod to the classic vampire look, with a modern, gothic twist.  He wore a fitted black velvet jacket over a deep red silk shirt, black trousers, and polished boots. A faux blood-drip choker adorned his neck, and his face was painted pale with dramatic, dark circles under his eyes for effect.  His normally sandy hair was dyed black and slicked back, giving him a more sinister look.

“Oh my gosh, you girls look adorable!” Nadia meanwhile squealed, rushing over to loop her arms around both of our shoulders in a single double-hug, “It’s great to see you!” The short girl (she was barely five foot) wore a playful, form-fitting black catsuit that highlighted her athletic build.  A fake fluffy tail pointed up behind her, a pair of pointy ears on a headband, and black whiskers painted using makeup on her dark, chestnut cheeks. Her hazel eyes were accentuated with cat eye-liner, and she had definitely mastered the cute look.

Nadia was Roxana’s long-term friend from their school days, long before she even met me.  Roxana finally introduced us to each-other in our final year of university, and through her we then met her boyfriend Ethan, who soon integrated himself into our friendship group. Whilst Nadia was energetic, positive and playful, Ethan was calm and collected. When I first met him, I assumed him to be shy and introverted, but he was actually a great conversationalist. You could talk about any subject with him, and he had a way to make it interesting and form his own view on the matter.

“Hey, Nad!” I greeted her, my heart starting to race as she separated from me and looked – or stared, rather – at my thicker body. I knew Nadia would comment, I just hoped it would at least be in a friendly manner rather than mean.

“Aw, Belle!” She exclaimed loudly, causing me to blush as I looked around to see if anyone was looking, “You’ve got curves, girl!  And you’re rocking them!  You look sexy as heck!” I looked past the very short livewire to her taller boyfriend, who simply offered me a smile that easily reassured me that he didn’t care either.

“You both look fantastic.” Ethan commented smoothly.

“Th-Thank you.” I stammered, forcing a smile towards Nadia.

“No, really!” She continued despite my awkwardness, “Curves are definitely in, and look at you rocking that tummy rather than hiding it away!  You go, beautiful Belle!”

“Yes, she looks amazing.” Roxana agreed, stepping forward almost protectively, “Have you managed to find a job yet, Nad?  There might be something coming up at the gym, if you were interested.”  I sighed in relief, appreciating Roxana as she swept in to change the conversation away from me as Nadia’s quick-paced mind swiftly forgot about me and moved onto chatting fitness and gym with my girlfriend.

“I heard you got a new job yourself?” Ethan addressed me calmly, sitting back down and gesturing to the seat next to him.  I smiled appreciatively and took it, wiggling slightly to make myself comfortable against the cold plastic, “You’re finally a chef?”

The warmth from the firepit gently brushed against my skin as I settled beside Ethan, the crackling of the flames adding a comforting background to our conversation. “That’s right!” I replied with a mixture of pride and nerves – pride that I had such big news about my life after several months since last seeing my friend, and nerves that I had such a big body after several months since last seeing my friend, “I’m working at the Jumping Doe now. It’s been quite the adventure, lots of learning on the go… I see now why everyone always told me you only learn to be a chef by doing it!”

Ethan nodded, his interest genuine, "That's fantastic, Belle. It must be fulfilling to finally work in a field you're passionate about." His calm demeanour had a way of putting me at ease, making it easier to believe that he couldn’t give a damn that I’d gained weight – me being skinny had nothing to do with our friendship, so why would me being fatter have an impact?

"It is," I admitted, "There's something incredibly satisfying about seeing people enjoy the dishes I've helped create. It's like all those years of studying and dreaming about becoming a chef are finally paying off." The conversation flowed effortlessly from there, with Ethan asking insightful questions about the culinary world and sharing his own experiences with various attempts (and disasters) of cooking. Nadia and Roxana, deep in their own conversation, occasionally threw glances our way, their expressions a mix of happiness and amusement. It was clear that, despite the various paths our lives had taken, the bond between us remained strong.

“Oh!” Nadia’s squeal interrupted all of our discussions as she pointed towards the back door as two more familiar faces appeared, “Soph!! Kyle!!” A clench of fear clutched my heart as I looked past the tall witch emerging with a smile, to the even taller boy dressed as a detective behind her. Sophia looked stunningly haunting, a sleek, long black dress with a high slit paired with a pointed hat adorned with silver stars and moons.  Her long, gorgeous dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in waves, and her makeup was bewitchingly dark, with purple lipstick and smoky eyeshadow.  She carried a broomstick in her hand to complete the set-up.

Not that I’d ever let Roxy know, but I actually developed a bit of a crush on Sophia when I met her a year-and-a-half or so ago towards the end of my final year at university, but it was purely a shallow crush based on her appearance.  She had what society would call the perfect hourglass figure, with large DD breasts and a big butt, but none of the chub that society would deem detracting from it. Sophia was very much mainly Roxana’s friend, she was a yoga nut and held a deep belief in all things spiritual – fate, tarot cards, ghosts, meditation… you name it. She was also almost as big on healthy eating as Roxana was, so that put me off quite quickly – I was already with a health nut, why would I waste any time crushing on another?

Her brother Kyle was a few inches taller than Sophia (who was already 5’11!), with dark hair kept in a short, somewhat tousled styled. His face was defined, with a strong jawline and a straight nose, his face kept perfectly clean-shaven with no hint of stubble to be seen. His eyes were a piercing blue, intense and observant – whenever he looked at me, it felt like he was staring into my soul. Nothing escaped his notice, and he would often comment on whatever caught his notice.

It seemed only fitting that Kyle would choose to dress up as a detective, as if his only purpose at this party was to ‘detect’ what I had changed about me and, even worse, deduce the reasoning for it. Imagine if he announced to the entire party that I was deliberately getting fat?! That would be so humiliating… for the first few days, it’d probably turn me on a lot after that. He wore a tan trench coat, a comically large magnifying glass in his hand as an accessory, and a deer-stalker hat sat upon his head to complete the look.  Probably the least creative costume of the party, but it didn’t surprise me if Kyle thought going all-out was nonsense. He was in total contrast to his twin sister, believing in grounded logic and proven facts over superstition, fate and ‘silly’ tradition.

Safe to say, unlike his twin, I had never had a crush on Kyle. In fact, him and I never really clicked – if there was one person in our friendship group I’d choose to be rid of, it would be him. He always had something to say – if I ever had a bit of food stuck in my teeth, he’d point it out. If I’d spilled something on my top, he’d make sure the entire group knew.  Hell, one time I didn’t wear a bra (I was at home for god’s sake!), and he commented loudly that he could see my nipples through my top!  I don’t think he meant any of it meanly, it probably wasn’t his fault, but I was dreading the incoming minute of my life.

I found myself edging behind Nadia as the siblings approached, wishing Nadia wasn’t so short and lithe as I found my waistline was wider than her whole frame anyway. I watched, blue eyes wide, as Kyle glanced to me, whispering something to Sophia. Sophia’s face flashed irritation as she retorted something back to him, before she made a beeline for me, a pearly white smile crossing her damn perfect face, “Belle!  Oh my god, how are you?” She pulled me into a hug, ensuring her body was between me and Kyle, I couldn’t help but notice.

“H-Hey, Sophia!” I replied nervously, forcing a smile, “I’m… I’m good, how are you? Your costume looks great!”

Sophia began steering me away from the others as they greeted Kyle, whose deep gaze was fixed on me as I retreated, “I’m great!” she replied cheerfully until we were in a private corner of the garden. Away from the fire, the evening’s chill brushed over my exposed skin, causing me to shiver. Sophia parted from me, looking me up-and-down, smiling and saying, “Your aura has changed. You are confident now, and no longer hiding.”

Taken aback, but then remembering I really shouldn’t be surprised, I responded, “Uhh… thanks. Um, yeah, I’m…” I hesitated, the self-conscious side of me screaming at me to stop talking, to not dare admit to another person that I was happier nearly seventy pounds heavier. But I needed to own it, I had chosen to wear a costume fully revealing the extent of my weight gain for a reason – if I planned to keep it hidden, I could’ve thrown a large white sheet over my head and called myself a ghost, “I’m really happy with myself right now.”

“Aw, hun!” Sophia beamed, hugging me again, “That’s amazing! I could tell something was different about you as soon as I stepped outside.”

“I bet Kyle could too, right?” I chuckled nervously, rubbing my arm anxiously and looking towards the boy, who was in conversation with Ethan, “But not my ‘aura’, more like…” I looked down at my pudgy midsection, saying nothing further.

“My brother can be a jerk.” Sophia replied with an understanding smile, “He did notice, yes, but I told him to keep quiet.  He doesn’t think anything badly about it, you know what he’s like – he just likes to vocalise everything that crosses his mind. He thinks the world of you and Roxy, and the others too.” The only problem with Sophia was that she could be a little too defensive of her brother, not realising just how hurtful he could be at times.

We headed back to the rest of the group who were now all stood by the firepit – Sophia rushed ahead to greet the others happily, leaving me to nervously trail behind.  Kyle was first to notice me, and summoning my courage, I greeted him with a cautious smile, “Hey Kyle, it’s good to see you.”

Kyle tilted his head to the side slightly as he gave me a once-over without even attempting to be discreet, eyes settling on my inflated waistline, “Wow, Belle, I almost didn’t recognise you. I can’t tell if your costume is a fairy who’s eaten too much cake, or a pumpkin with wings.”

The group around us fell silent immediately, and his cruel words hit me like a ton of bricks, knocking the breath from my body.  I was prepared for a blunt comment or observation, but nothing prepared me for even the possibility of a direct insult – that wasn’t his character at all.  I could feel my cheeks heating up at a rapid pace, and I stepped back to place some distance between myself and the boy whose words just cut into me like a knife into a steak.

“Kyle!” Sophia was first to react, looking aghast herself at her twin brother’s behaviour, a direct contrast to everything she had just tried to defend him on to me.

“The hell did you just say to her?!” Roxana snapped, her strong and secure figure stepping in front of me to glare at Kyle, even if the boy did stand half a foot taller than her.

“There’s no need for that.” Ethan, ever the calm one, said to Kyle after looking to me, “I think you should apologise, Kyle.” Nadia, meanwhile, looked like a kicked puppy at what had been shaping out to be a fun party seemed to be crumbling away. She chose to take a place at my side, wrapping a comforting arm around my waist and shooting Kyle an uncharacteristic glare.

“Woah, what?!” Kyle protested, raising his hands with a confused frown – as if it wasn’t clear why I’d be upset by his comment, “It’s just a joke… I thought we were close enough to be able to tease each other by now. Didn’t mean to hurt you… you’ve just… let yourself go a bit, that’s a-“

“One more word and I’ll break your jaw!” Roxana snapped, advancing on him in a manner that made it look like she was towering over him. I felt a flutter of appreciation for my girlfriend as I watched her so readily protect me from somebody who was her own friend – we had known Kyle longer than any of the others. I quickly wiped my eyes as I felt them fill with tears, unsure if they were from hurt and humiliation, or from being touched by my girlfriend’s protectiveness – protectiveness I probably didn’t deserve, deep down.  Nadia pulled me into a side hug, resting her head on my upper arm.

“Alright, alright.” Kyle backed down, stepping back from the decreasing distance between him and Roxana, “I genuinely didn’t mean to upset her.”

“Yeah?” Roxana questioned, still glowering at him angrily, “What were you trying to achieve then, huh?  My girlfriend is beautiful and sexy, with or without the extra weight.  Yeah she’s put on weight, but so what?! You’re meant to be her friend!  I’m the one in a relationship with her, so if I think she looks great, what the hell does it matter what you think?!”

“Woah, go Roxy…” Nadia whispered, placing a friendly platonic kiss on my arm and grinning up at me, “She’s like a fierce mama bear!  You’re so lucky, I don’t think Ethan could intimidate anybody if he tried…”

Glittery tears spilled from my eyes despite my attempts to stop them as I sniffled, “Y-Yeah… I am lucky.”

“Aw, Belle!” Nadia frowned sadly, hugging me again, “Don’t cry, babe!”

“Hey, hey, what’s going on over here?!” Liam exclaimed with wide eyes as he hurried into the scene, looking between Roxana and Kyle. I only now noticed everybody outside was staring at us, causing me to feel even more embarrassed. What if they had heard him?  As I made eye contact with several concerned guests, I couldn’t help but feel like their (mostly) disguised eyes were all staring at my stomach.  “Kyle? Rox?” Liam pressed.

“It’s nothing.” Kyle quickly said, stepping away, “Just a misundersta-“

“It’s not a misunderstanding, you dick!” Roxana interrupted once more, her fists clenching, “Apologise to Belle, right now!”

“Maybe we should just calm down…” Ethan inputted calmly, raising his hands in a placating manner towards both Roxana and Kyle.

“Keep out of this, Dracula!” Roxana snapped, shutting him up with a glare. Nadia couldn’t help but giggle at my side. Ethan raised his eyebrows, surprised at that response, before doing as he was told and keeping quiet.

“Jesus!” Kyle exclaimed in frustration, his own cheeks going red now, “Why are you being so defensive for?!  You’re the one who used to bang on about how you wished she’d lose the gut back in colle-“

Smack!

The chorus of gasps and the grunt of pain from Kyle as Roxana’s heavy, trained fist made contact with his (once) perfect nose were drowned out by my own swimming thoughts at Kyle’s words.  Kyle fell back into one of the garden chairs, the flimsy plastic snapping under his weight as both chair and judgemental dick made hard contact with the patio below. Sophia darted to her brother’s side with a dramatic gasp, Liam simply gaped at the quick pace his party was turning into disaster, and Ethan just sighed, running a hand through his hair in dismay at how this confrontation was spiralling.

“Oh, fudge!” Nadia shouted loudly, always one to avoid cursing, letting go of me to cover her mouth in shock as Kyle clutched at his face – even from our distance, we could see the trickle of red seeping through his fingers, “That’s one heck of a punch!”

‘…about how you wished she’d lose the gut…’

What gut?!  How was 126 pounds considered having a ‘gut’?  Roxana had already confessed to me her manipulative ways back at university, but she hadn’t told me she’d shared those nasty thoughts with anybody else.  I felt sick at the thought of her and Kyle laughing at me behind my back, both watching with some twisted glee as I half-starved myself down to a weight that Roxana finally approved of.

“-not cool, Roxy!” Liam was now shouting at Roxana as I tuned back in, “Why did you punch him for?!”

“You’re bo’h un’inged!” Kyle mumbled angrily through his hand as he clutched his nose, Sophia forcing tissues to him in panic at his side.

“Shut up and stay away from us.” Roxana responded flatly, nursing her bruising fist, before turning to face me, her face cautious and upset, “Belle…”

“Please tell me you didn’t really say that to him, Rox?!” Nadia exclaimed, clinging to my arm protectively as she stared wide-eyed at my girlfriend, “She’s not even fat now, let alone back when you were in uni!”

“…I’d lost a lot of weight when you met me.” I said numbly, trying to salvage my make-up as I dabbed at my tears.

“She wasn’t fat even before that.” Roxana protested, stepping towards me but hesitating uncertainly, as if awaiting permission, “Babe I’m sorry… I never should have said those things, i-it’s like I already told you… I… I’m sorry.”

“Um…” Liam spoke from behind Roxana, removing his hat and scratching his head in confusion, “You two should… uh, probably go talk in private. You can go upstairs if you want.  And as for you two,” He looks towards Sophia and Kyle, “Take him to the downstairs bathroom, yeah? There’s plasters and stuff in there. I know it’s Halloween, but try and keep the real blood to a minimum, yeah?”

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” I quickly said, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile towards Roxana, “It’s all in the past. We’ve all done stupid things.  Let’s just enjoy the party, yeah?” I downed the rest of my cocktail in two gulps, feeling the heavy cream settle in the ‘gut’ that may not have been worthy of the title back in university, but I sure was working on her being worthy now, “Liam, another cocktail please. Same size.”

As Liam turned to head off, I spoke up again, “Oh!  And get me some cake too please, yeah?” I looked pointedly towards Kyle, still on the floor, “This fairy slash pumpkin has definitely not eaten too much cake.”

A/N: I enjoyed writing this chapter, and I enjoyed the next one too! Watch this be a chapter you all think sucks 👀 I hope not! It introduces some new characters (finally), and the plan isn't for them to just be 'filler' people and never show up again - there are more people in Belle's life than just Roxana and Autumn, so the story should really reflect that!  The next chapter is already ready, but I'm holding it back for next week to give me time to write another chapter The aim is to stay at least 1 chapter in reserve going forward, to help prevent burn-out again. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

[berserker1]

A fan art I did just for fun. This is what I imagine Belle could look like at 250 lbs or so.

Support this amazing story!

[lsactt]

Honestly a perfect representation of Belle! Thank you so much!! Its genuinely amazing, and I look forward to writing Belle at that weight 😍

[lsactt]

Chapter 22

The chill of the night air and the cold confrontation was soon forgotten as our group (minus Liam, Kyle and Sophia, for now) headed back inside to the dance floor.  The warmth of the indoors, the close proximity of so many people, and the second large cup of alcohol swishing about in my wobbling stomach worked wonders to warm me up.  The music was a classic mix of Halloween tunes (some more loosely ‘spooky’ than others, simply for having the word ‘ghost’ or ‘magic’ in the title) and modern hits, filling the dance floor with an infectious energy.

Roxana, Ethan, Nadia and I formed a small group near the edge of the dance area, swaying and jumping about to the tunes with no real skill.  I had been nervous at first, feeling what seemed like every cell of fat move with me, but the seductive pull of company, music and alcohol soon helped me ignore it – or rather, embrace it. Every action felt so different to the last time I had danced – every limb was heavier, my boobs almost had a mind of their own, my thighs rubbed together far more than they ever used to. 

Once the anxiety passed, I allowed myself to enjoy it – I felt sexy as I lifted my arms above my head, swaying my head to the side and feeling my bodice rise slightly with me, more of my soft tummy exposing herself, my belly button stretching appealingly and invitingly (well, to me at least – probably not to anybody else).  The healthy layer of sweat that started to coat my soft body was a reminder of the toll my heavier form was bearing, and it felt sexy. As Roxana moved behind me, holding my sides and squeezing my soft love handles, feeling my much bigger butt rub against the abs of her lower stomach sent me wild, knowing the growing contrast between our two figures now.  Most of all, against all the odds, as she fondled, squeezed and danced against me, I could tell she wanted me. The girl who had done such despicable things to keep me skinny, was aroused by my soft body!

It wasn’t just Roxy though – Nadia would often steal me from my girlfriend, shrieking loudly in excitement and being the very much party girl she was. I even danced with Ethan, ever the gentleman, when he politely interrupted his short girlfriend to ask me for a dance. It was a lot of fun, and the earlier confrontation with Kyle was slowly becoming a distant, but still unpleasant, memory.  Nothing, not even him, could ruin my evening.

But she could.

The music seemed to slow down as my flushed smile started to fade, my eyes fixed on the doorway. The dance floor around me transformed into a vague sea of swaying bodies, each couple and group wrapped in their own intimate world. Amidst the laughter and the rhythmic movements, my eyes were inexplicably drawn to the party’s newest arrival at the front door, where the atmosphere seemed to shift, the air itself seeming to thicken with an unspoken anticipation.

There, framed by the doorway as if the night itself had conjured her, stood Autumn. Time seemed to stretch and bend, the vibrant sounds of the party fading into a distant memory as I beheld her. She was an embodiment of every forbidden fantasy, a vivid illustration of desire cloaked in the guise of an enchantress (no, literally, that was her costume). Her presence commanded the room, a testament to the raw, undeniable allure that ensnared my heart and haunted my thoughts.

The deep emerald of her gown hugged her form, a celebration of her opulent curves and the fullness that spoke of indulgence and decadence – the roundness of her belly stretched even further than the last time I saw her in anything but her loose chef’s outfit.  The fabric, rich and sumptuous, seemed to drink in the light, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her appear as though she had stepped forth from an ancient, enchanted tapestry. The plunging neckline of her dressed offered a tantalizing glimpse of her ample cleavage, a siren’s call that beckoned with the promise of hidden depths and secrets whispered in the dark.

Her arms, encased in sheer, flowing sleeves, moved with a grace that was mesmerising, the fabric dancing around her like wisps of smoke, lending her an air of mystique that was both captivating and intimidating. The golden bands at her wrists glinted, symbols of power that was as alluring as it was formidable. Her usual thick-framed glasses were missing, her usually grey eyes now an alluring, deep emerald green, the contacts perfectly matching her dress.  Her auburn hair not in its normal bun but in luxurious curls caressing her shoulders.

In that moment, the world around us ceased to exist. There was only Autumn the Enchantress, and the overwhelming sea of feelings she invoked within me. Fear, desire, guilt, and longing melded into a potent cocktail that left my breathless, my heart a drumbeat echoing the turmoil that her presence wrought. Roxana’s hand on my waist, moments ago a source of comfort, now felt like a shackle – a stark reminder of the duplicity that tangled around me like thorns.

Fuck, I really am falling head over heels for her, huh?

As Autumn’s gaze found mine across the crowded room, the unspoken promises and forbidden dreams that lay between us stretched taut, a fragile thread that threatened to unravel the very fabric of reality I clung to. In her eyes, I saw the same hunger and undeniable pull that I felt, but however surprised she may have been to see me here, she did not let it show. It was almost as if she was expecting to see me here.

“Autumn!” A feminine voice that wasn’t my own called from next to me, making me jump as I looked to my right to see the owner of the shout. A clenched fist of indescribable feeling squeezed my heart as I watched, mouth ajar in shock, as Roxana stepped forward, waving to the overweight chef, “Over here!”

What the fuck?

Autumn looked away from me, the spell between us breaking with an almost audible smash as her plump lips opened into a smile as she stepped towards Roxana, and the two embraced.  Soft, round stomach against stone-hard abs. Forbidden love against girlfriend.  Cheater against cheater (in front of cheater). How could they?!

The hug lasted for what felt like eternity, translating to ‘far too long’ in my ** mind.

What, are they rubbing their affair in my face now?!

“I’m glad you could make it.” Roxana smiled as they finally parted, before looking to me with a smile, “You remember Autumn? I mean, of course you remember Autumn.” She chuckled slightly, seeming a bit nervous (I wonder why?!), “Who can forget the last time we saw her…?” I thought back to that weird time at the beach, the event that started whatever the fuck was going on between them.

“Hey, Belle.” Autumn said softly, giving me a wave, struggling to hold my direct gaze for more than a few seconds.

“Hi.” I replied bluntly, looking quickly back to Roxana, “Since when did you two become friends?”

“Well, we’ve been texting.” Roxana shrugged nonchalantly, or at least her best attempt at nonchalantly, also avoiding eye contact, “Turns out we… have quite a bit in common.” Her quick glance to Autumn was not missed by me. An awkward silence followed, before Roxana continued, “I’ll be back in a moment, Belle, I just… need to have a quick chat with Autumn.”  Placing a hand to Autumn’s chubby upper arm, Roxana steered the fat beauty away, vanishing into the crowd.

“Woah, since when did Rox have friends besides us?!” Nadia asked from my side, hands on her hips, “And who’s the fiery bombshell?”

I scowled, looking away from Nadia so she couldn’t see the nerve she just touched – or squashed, rather.  “Beats me. I’m sure they’re having some super cozy ‘chats’ together, no doubt they’ll be heading upstairs in a moment.”

“Wha – Belle, c’mon, Roxy would never cheat on you!” Nadia exclaimed quickly, instantly clocking on to what I was inferring, “She’s besotted with you!”

“Not compared to the ‘fiery bombshell’, clearly.” I replied, walking away, my focus entirely on the kitchen where the drinks and food tables awaited. Over-indulging had worked so far to push away all negative feelings, so topped with alcohol, surely it’d be even more effective. If my body was filled to the brim with calories, there was no room for feelings – that’s what my weird logic told me, anyway.

“Belle, wait!” Nadia’s call was soon drowned out by the pulsing music and my racing mind as I left. I heard Ethan’s soft tone calling her back from trying to go after me.

The delicious food was almost in reach – pizza slices, sausage rolls, pretzels, crisps, chocolate brownies, donuts… oh god, it was so close… the happy gurgle of my hungry tummy was rudely interrupted, however, by a firm hand grabbing my shoulder. Crying out in surprise, I spun around wide-eyed to see Kyle, still holding a bloody cloth to his nose, “Belle, I wanted to say sorry.” He said in a squeaky, muffled voice, “I crossed the line, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Whatever.” I shrugged, glaring at him, not in the mood for his antics, “Better look away now though, fat girl’s about to stuff her face and all.”

“Don’t call yourself that…” He frowned, shifting uncomfortably at my hostile tone – like everybody else, he was probably used to the delicate, innocent, never-put-a-foot-wrong, flowery Belle of the past, “You’re not fat.”

I rolled my eyes in frustration, “Not yet, anyway.”

“Not… yet?”

I reached behind me, grabbing one of the lukewarm pizza slices, shoving half of it in my mouth and tearing a huge chunk with my teeth, “Don’ worry.” I mumbled, mouth full, “Ne’t time ‘ou see me…” I swallowed loudly, Kyle clearly hearing the loud gulp as the calorific mouthful slid down my throat, “Next time you see me, you can call me fat girl for real.”

“Uh… what?” Kyle looked totally perplexed, his brows knotted in a deep frown as his normally highly perceptive self was entirely unable to read what was going on in my brain right now. Well, not even I could, so it was futile anybody else trying, “Belle, are you alright?”

“Just go find someone else to bully.” I rolled my eyes, turning away from him to now refill my cup with the creamy cocktail already clouding my mind and judgement, “Hell, if you see my girlfriend, she’s with someone who’s whale sized compared to me. I’m sure you’ll have a field day. Have fun telling her to jump back in the ocean.” I glugged the drink down, the strong taste of liqueur burning my throat and causing my eyes to water. My hand rested on my stomach as I continued chugging it, feeling my midsection expand slightly as the third half-pint of cocktail descended. I barely stifled a burp as I finished it, not bothering to cover my mouth as I glowered at the slightly swaying Kyle.

Wait, he wasn’t swaying. I’m swaying. Or my vision’s swaying. Something’s swaying.

“…Maybe you should slow down.” For all his jerky jerkiness, it was pissing me off that Kyle was choosing his ‘white knight’ moment now, when all I wanted was for him to leave me alone so I could devour everything I could grab until I couldn’t move (god that sounded hot in my head), “Do you want me to get Roxana?"

“Depends if you wanna see her fucking a whale.” I replied bluntly, “Try upstairs.”

“Wh- Jesus, what the fuck, Belle?!” Kyle spluttered, almost dropping the towel from his nose, “What is wrong with you?”

Forget this. I gave him the middle finger and turned away from him, almost stumbling as the room struggled to catch up with my swift movement. I filled my cup again, cursing aloud as I spilled some of the thick orange liquid onto the cheap tablecloth. Glug, glug, glug… I massaged my neck with a wince, hiccupping and belching again.

Images of Roxana and Autumn flashed through my mind. Roxana’s slim form on top of Autumn’s, her honey-toned skin against Autumn’s pale, freckled flesh. Lips locked, Roxana’s tongue slipping into Autumn’s mouth. Moans of pleasure. Dark hands groping and squeezing at Autumn’s fat belly and large boobs, Autumn gripping Roxana’s muscular thighs tightly.

A handful of sausage rolls were shoved into my awaiting maw, soft but slightly stale pastry chewed and swallowed just as quickly as they entered.  A chocolate brownie next, the sweet taste a strange and unpleasant contrast to the remains of pastry and meat still in my mouth, but I wasn’t eating for the taste.  A glug of my drink, a burp so loud that sober Belle would be mortified, and then more food.

“Alright, Belle, that’s enough.” Kyle was still here?! His strong hands soon wrapped around my swiftly bloating middle, uncomfortable against my unsettled stomach, tugging me away from my feast.

“Fuck… urp, off!!” I exclaimed, another burp escaping me as I glared at him, red-faced, “Just… leave me alone!”

“No, Belle, you need help!” Kyle retorted, as tactless as ever. I refrained from wincing as I got a look at his face now he’d dropped the towel to grab me. Dried blood caked around his nose, which was now at an awkward angle. Damn, Roxy, “I’m sorry for what I said… it makes sense now and I feel horrible, alright? But binge eating… it’s not gonna help!  Even if you throw it up af-“

“Dude, shut up!” I gave him a rough shove, finally getting him to release me, “That’s not what’s going on here!  I’m not fat now cause of comfort eating or whatever.”

“Then… what happened?” Kyle raised his arms helplessly, at a total loss of how to handle the current situation.

“If I tell you, will you leave me the hell alone?!”

“If that’s what you want…” Kyle replied hesitantly, cringing as he tried to sniff.

“I gained seventy pounds because…” I broke off, giving a fake look of suspense as I deliberately build up tension, “I wanted to. Shock horror. Gasp. Don’t have a heart attack. News flash – not every fat girl is depressed, not every girl who has a bit of a belly looks in the mirror and wishes they could chop their damn tummy off.  Not every girl who gains weight has only gained it due to… depression, or b**s, or even due to laziness, or whatever narrow minded shit you think. This new me, this new – urp – Belle, is what I’ve made myself. And damn, I’m sexy as hell now, no matter what your small mind might think!”

“…So you’re deliberately getting fat?” Kyle asked with disbelief. His short and simple question after my rant deflated my passion a bit, as if someone had just popped a balloon.

“…Yeah.” I replied flatly, gradually lowering the half-eaten donut that I didn’t even remember picking up.

“Um… okay, that’s a little weird.” Kyle commented with a frown, “But okay, whatever. What’s that got to do with Roxy and a… uh, whale?”

“Ugh, I know she’s having an affair.” I rolled my eyes, the anger returning but this time aimed at both Roxana and Autumn rather than the idiot in front of me, “They’re probably upstairs all over each other right now.”

“You better not be talking about me.” I looked past Kyle to see Roxana standing in the kitchen doorway, looking both hurt and confused. To Kyle, she gave a sharp gesture with her head, “Get out of here, idiot.”

“…I was just trying to help, she’s… uh, she’s in a weird way right now.” Kyle replied, unable to meet Roxana’s glare, probably facing some trauma following the earlier confrontation.

“And you probably made it worse. Go.” Roxana retorted in a commanding tone, and Kyle hurried off – or rather, scurried off, I’d never seen a more fitting use for that word.  Roxana then approached me, a frown etching across her forehead as she reached to embrace me, but I stiffened up – she immediately stopped, staying where she was, “Belle, what’s going on?”

“You.” I sniffed, leaning back against the table, and looking down, taking a moment to marvel at just how full and round my belly looked after my mad overindulging, “And her.”

“…Are you **?” Roxana asked softly, taking another step towards me but not attempting to touch me again, “Babe, you can’t seriously think I’m interested in her?”

“Why not?” I asked, my voice slurring slightly, looking at nothing but the more dramatic curve of my stomach, filling my view and obscuring most of my feet, “She’s your… A. But I’ll understand, right? Just like she texted… back at the spa…” My round tummy suddenly blurred, and for a moment I panicked that I’d gotten so ** I was passing out, until I realised I was crying, “You don’t… want me anymore…”

Strong arms wrapped themselves around me suddenly, and I found myself hiccupping into my girlfriend’s shoulder as she held me close, “Don’t you ever think that, my Baby Belle…” she whispered softly into my ear, her hand cupping the back of my head and holding me close so comfortingly, “You are all I ever want, all I ever have wanted. I love you with all my heart, and nothing will ever change that.  Definitely not Autumn. Definitely not anybody.”

“Then… why the secret texts? Why the secret conversations?” I choked out in sobs, snuggling closer into her protective embrace.

“Belle… come with me.” She said softly, leading me back through the crowded party. I followed numbly, clutching her hand and ignoring the dancing drunken young adults as the world spun around me. She led me upstairs and into an empty bedroom, closing the door behind me. I wondered if this was where she just was with Autumn… unwanted images flashed across my brain again.  I clenched my fists against my temple, blocking out Roxana’s words. “Belle? Belle!”

“Don’t wanna know…” I mumbled, shaking my head, until Roxana gently took my wrists and pulled my hands away from my face, softly taking my chin and lifting my head to face her.

“God, how have you gotten this **?” Roxana asked in disbelief, concerned, “I was only gone for ten minutes!” I shrugged, not interested in explaining that right now, “Look, Belle, please just listen to me. Nothing is going on, I promise you.  After we met at the beach, Autumn reached out to me and brought up how I was… feeding you. She…” She winced, “Look, I shouldn’t be telling you this. It’s her private business.  But, uh, she’s… into the same… stuff you are.  She wanted to make sure that what I was doing was… okay with you, and so I told her that you… wanted me to.  I’ve been talking to her a lot lately to understand more about it, to try and be better for you. To try and make this journey of yours… well, better, for you.”

I stared at her, stunned, my mind racing with overwhelming thoughts, “…The text at the spa?”

Roxana sighed, “I knew you were acting strange when I came back from my shower… I had just told her how guilty I felt for ‘outing’ your fetish to her and asked if I was wrong to. She said that you would understand, and she was even encouraging me to tell you about our conversations… she thought you’d find it beneficial knowing somebody else who was into it.”

“But what… what about tonight?!” I protested, “Sneaking off with her…”

“She was meant to get here before us.” Roxana explained softly, “I knew you were worried about Kyle, and so I hoped someone much bigger than you might take his attention away from you.”

“You’re… not cheating? Y-You and Autumn…”

“We’re just… friends.” Roxana smiled at me, “Sort of. I mean, she’s more my… mentor on fattening someone up.” She giggled.

No laughter escaped my lips, however.  Guilt. Oh my god. Why did the world feel so heavy?  My fists returned to my temples again, slamming hard into my skull repeatedly as I screamed out loud until Roxana restrained me, panic in her voice as she questioned what was wrong.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“What for? Belle, please stop, what’s going on?!”

“I fucked up, I majorly fucked up… I’m so sorry…”

Roxana paused, frowning slightly, “What do you mean? …What did you do?”

I stared at her, my blue eyes widening in terror as I realised the words that had escaped my mouth.

What had I done? What do I do?

A/N: This chapter's a little bit shorter than normal, but I enjoyed writing it! I tried to capture Belle's drunken mindset by making the chapter feel more chaotic as it progressed, in terms of the speed of her thoughts and her what's going through her mind. I hope that came across rather than looking messy, but as always, let me know.

[lsactt]

Chapter 23

“Don’t… don’t stop…!” I slurred, arching my back, my bloated belly pushing into the air, almost bashing Roxana away from me, “Feels so… so good…”

Roxana, despite my request, did stop, lifting her head to stare past my spherical stomach to my flushed face, “I’m sure it does, Baby Belle.  You can finish when you answer my questions.” I whined audibly, kicking my legs slightly in frustration, feeling my thighs jiggle against Roxana’s shoulders, “What did you do?”

“Nothin’…” I groaned, grabbing my pillow and throwing it over my face, wiggling on the bed to try and find a way to release the pent-up pleasure that Roxana had so cruelly cut off, “Baby Belle **… stupid stuff said when **…”

Roxana stared at me coolly, her hand sliding up the curve of my full tummy, her darker skin tone a pleasant contrast against my pale skin. A gurgle came from my overfull gut, struggling still to digest the mountain of food and alcohol I shovelled down my throat at the party.  Roxana began to rub, helping to ease the pressure inside, and I moaned, muffled by the pillow covering my mouth. That felt so good, not only in terms of comfort, but continuing to arouse me.

Suddenly, a sharp pain spasmed through me, the source being where Roxana’s hands had been rubbing pleasantly. I shrieked, the pillow flying away from me as my arms flailed, trying to pull myself away from Roxana’s vice-like grip on the soft flesh of my stomach. Her sharp nails dug in as she continued to stare at me, her face difficult to read. As quickly as she had started, she released me, causing me to gasp.  I reached for my poor tummy, massaging the pained area as I tried to catch my breath, my chest rising and falling as I moaned, pain and arousal mixing together to leave me a total blob of a mess.

“Owww…” I whined, “That hurt… I’m too full for that, Roxy rocks. Go back to what you were doing…”

“Tell me what you did, my love.” Roxana insisted calmly, her hands returning to massaging my dome-like stomach, her little finger dipping into my belly button and out again, causing me to wiggle again, “I know you’ve been a bad Baby Belle; I just need to know what you’ve done so I can… punish you as appropriate.”

“Sooo hot…” I moaned, my hands clutching at the sheets as I closed my eyes, “Keep going…”

“Did you hear my question, Baby Belle?”

“Don’t matter…” I shook my head dumbly, blonde hair flicking about beneath me, “Feels too goo- AH!”

Both hands—or claws, for a better term right now—dug into me again as Roxana gripped tight, nails digging into my taut skin as she used the grip to then shake my belly up and down, sending the dramatic mix of food and liquid already unsettling me sloshing about inside me.  “Urgh, Rox… URP! That hurts… and I feel sick!”

My complaint only caused her to grip tighter, my grip on the sheets tightening as I held back a scream of pain. Tears sprung to my eyes, but it felt so good at the same time… I didn’t realise so much pain and discomfort could possibly feel good. We had experimented with stuff like this before, but never before had it been focused around my tummy, which had become such an instrumental part of sex between us lately.

I panted in relief and pleasure as she released me again, leaving two throbbing patches of flesh on both sides of my belly.  Giving me little time to relax, Roxana placed her hands on the mattress either side of me, her strong muscles easily allowing her body to move up mine, her stern features moving closer, dark eyes fixed – unwavering – on my face.  Her toned body was now suspended just a few inches above mine, her stomach perfectly flat and still, tantalisingly close to kissing the soft, chubby but bloated tummy beneath.

“Tell me what you did.” Roxana said again in almost a whisper, lowering her mouth to kiss up my shoulder and neck as she lowered her body to rest entirely on top of mine. I gasped in pleasure and discomfort as I felt her weight press into my fragile body, unrelenting and unmoving. In that moment, I was happy that my girlfriend was so light, because even fifty pounds lighter than me felt extremely heavy on my groaning belly.

“Nothing…” I resisted, enjoying the attention and kisses up my neck, tilting my head to the other side to expose more of my soft skin, “I was… I was just jealous… wasn’t fair to be… jealous…” Roxana paused in her kissing, as if contemplating how true my response was. I groaned, trying to wiggle my body to give my aching stomach some space, but Roxana had me pinned down perfectly, “Rox…”

“Hm.” She clicked her tongue, her breath warm against my skin, causing me to shiver, “I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Huh…?” I mumbled, wishing my heart would stop thudding so loudly. Despite how ** I was, it was difficult to keep the fear at bay, “Why not…?”

“You were devastated.” She replied in a tone too serious to be joking, “You were quite literally hitting yourself. You were inconsolable. You were guilty of something, something big.”

“Nu-uh…” I shook my head, stubbornly, mind racing as I tried to think of a lie I could tell that was big enough for her to believe, but not as awful as the fact I had cheated on her on multiple occasions. God, that thought made me sick. I wasn’t a cheater… that wasn’t me.  I was loyal, I was good, I was the innocent Baby Belle…

“Wrong answer.” Roxana said calmly, and before I had a chance to process her words, she bit into my neck – HARD! I yelped in pain, hands flailing clumsily to try and push her off of me, but my coordination was completely off thanks to the many cocktails I downed in quick succession. She released me, leaving my neck burning in pain.  She brushed away the tears that had sprung to my eyes delicately, as if she hadn’t just nommed me like a freaking vampire, staring deeply into my eyes, “You’re hiding something.”

“Rox, please…” I pleaded, exhausted, “I was just guilty for accusing you… It’s nothing ser- wah!”

Before my drunken brain could catch up, I had suddenly been flipped onto my front, another uneasy burp escaping my lips as my belly bounced into the mattress.  I couldn’t even remember getting home, or removing my fairy costume, or even removing my underwear. I wasn’t sure I had ever been this **.  I vaguely recalled, following my breakdown on Liam’s bed, Roxana comforting me, bringing me more drinks, feeding me more food.  I vaguely recalled dancing again with our friends. I vaguely recalled hunching over the toilet, wanting to throw up, Roxana gently encouraging me to take my mind off of it, reminding me to not lose all the calories I’d consumed.

I don’t remember if I managed to keep everything down or not. With how much I could feel sitting in my tummy, I either managed to or I’d replaced it all with more food.

Now I was naked, frustrated, and really wanting to have sex with my girlfriend, and she was choosing now to start interrogating me again.  Was that her plan?  What had I already told her? My mind was fuzzy.

“What did you do?” I heard Roxana ask, suspiciously quiet, not touching me at all for the first time since… well, I literally don’t remember. You know, **. I felt the bed shift as Roxana adjusted her position, the anticipation of her next move causing my heart to race. I could feel the cool air of the room on my exposed rear as she climbed off of me, the skin there tingling in anticipation as if it knew what was coming next.

I didn’t.

Without warning, I felt a sharp smack on my left cheek. The sting was immediate—a hot, searing sensation that spread quickly. I yelped in surprise, the sound muffled by the pillow beneath my face. "Answer me, Belle," Roxana's voice was stern, yet there was an underlying note of concern that I couldn't miss even in my inebriated state.

"I... I don't know," I stammered, my words slurring slightly. The truth was, I knew exactly what I had done, but the alcohol clouded my judgement, making it hard to discern what was safe to reveal. Another smack landed on my right cheek, this one harder than the first. I cried out; the pain was sharper and more intense, but it was accompanied by a strange, unfamiliar warmth that spread through my body. My butt felt impossibly heavy, each slap emphasising its inflated state, the flesh there quivering and jiggling with each impact.

Despite the strength of Roxana’s attack, I could feel that the new padding around my backside was helping to absorb some of the impact, which was very hot. I wished I could see what I looked like, and I suddenly found myself wondering why I hadn’t taken more pictures of the back of me yet. Maybe Roxy would film this for me; my Curvebook fans would love it, as would my bank account.  Before I could ask the question, however, Roxana sharply reminded me that this wasn’t just kinky fun.

"Belle, I need the truth," Roxana implored, her hand caressing the stinging skin softly now, soothing the burn with gentle touches. "I can't help you if you don't tell me."

The contradiction of pain and pleasure was disorienting, the discomfort from the spanking mingling with the gentle caresses that followed. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions, guilt, desire, and fear all competing for dominance. "I... I can't," I whispered, tears streaming down my face, not entirely from the pain. The guilt of my betrayal, the fear of losing Roxana, and the shame of my desires were overwhelming.

Roxana sighed, her hand pausing in its actions. Her voice was soft as she continued, sweet as honey but laced with something more sinister and manipulative, "I'm doing this because I care, Belle. I want to understand, to help you. But I can't do that if you keep me in the dark."

I lay there, sobbing quietly, the reality of my situation finally sinking in. The physical pain from the spanking was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil I felt inside. Roxana's determination to uncover the truth, her use of our shared kink to coax it out of me, was both terrifying and exhilarating.  How was I going to get out of this, though? My impulse, drunken reaction had unlocked a tidal wave that I was barely keeping at bay. A wave that threatened to destroy my relationship and with it, my entire life. It was only a matter of time before my levies broke.

How did I escape this? Was it possible?

But even as the realisation of what I needed to do dawned on me, I knew I couldn't bring myself to confess. The fear of losing Roxana, of shattering the fragile trust between us, held me back. So, I remained silent, the weight of my guilt as heavy as the burgeoning fat on my body, each unanswered question a reminder of the widening chasm between us. The room was silent, save for my ragged breaths and the occasional creak of the bed as Roxana shifted her weight. The air felt thick, charged with tension and unspoken words. My cheeks, both facial and rear, burned with a mix of shame, fear, and an unbidden arousal.

Smack! I winced, a whimper of pain escaping my lips, “R-Rox…”

Roxana's hand, previously a source of both pain and comfort, now hovered hesitantly over my skin. "Belle," she began, her voice softer now as she changed tactic, tinged with a sadness that made my heart clench. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want us to be honest with each other. Whatever it is, we can work through it." Her words, meant to reassure, only twisted the knife of guilt deeper. How could I tell her about Autumn? How could I confess to the betrayal, to the lies that had woven themselves so tightly around my heart? I felt the bed dip as Roxana leaned closer, her breath warm against my ear. "I love you, Belle. More than anything. Please, trust me."

The sincerity in her voice, the vulnerability, was almost my undoing. I wanted to tell her everything, to release the burden that weighed so heavily on my soul. But fear, that insidious whisperer of doubts, held my tongue. Instead of words, a sob tore from my throat, a raw sound that spoke of my inner turmoil. Roxana's arms enveloped me then, pulling me into a gentle embrace that was at odds with the discipline she'd administered moments before. Her touch was a balm, soothing the physical and emotional aches with a tenderness that nearly undid me.

We lay there, entwined, the storm of emotions gradually subsiding into a quiet despair. The truth remained locked within me, a poison festering in the dark. And as Roxana held me, her presence a steadfast anchor in the tumultuous sea of my guilt and desire, I knew that no amount of physical pain could ever match the agony of the guilt devouring me from the inside, as hungry as my desire and greed to pile on the increasing pounds.

“Did you cheat on me?” Roxana’s direct question suffocated me, repeating itself over and over in my mind like an echo, giving me no room to escape.  Her games were done now; she had tried to seduce me, to hurt me, to guilt-trip me, to reassure me.  None of them had worked; I had remained strong, and now there was nothing left for her to try except ask the direct question that filled her own soul with fear and suspicion. The question I had accused her of earlier. The question she was innocent of. The question I was extremely guilty of.

“N-No…” I replied in a slur, already turning myself over to stare at her as if I was appalled at the suggestion, “Of course not!”

A heavy weight lifted visibly in Roxana as her eyes closed briefly, her shoulders relaxing. The weight removed from her soul applied itself to me now, weighing me down heavier than the seventy pounds of fat enveloping me. It was bad enough that I had been having a literal affair, but at least I could say until this moment now that I had never lied to my girlfriend. It was an extremely weak strand of reassurance for me, but it was something to cling onto.  I had lost my main self-justification now. Roxana and Autumn had never been a thing. She had never cheated on me; I was the bitch.

“Oh, thank god…” She breathed, putting a hand to her forehead as she allowed a small smile to cross her face, “With how much you were – literally – beating yourself up, I was convinced you had. I guess we both accused each other of silly things tonight, huh?  I know you’d never cheat on me; you’ve been nothing but perfect to me throughout our entire relationship.  You should know that I never would either, Baby Belle.”

“I know…” I said hoarsely, meaning it this time despite how apparently delusional I had been over the past month, “I know you wouldn’t. I’m so sorry for thinking it.”

“I forgive you.” Roxana smiled at me genuinely before sliding her legs over me once more and straddling my thighs, causing my tummy to squash together as her muscular form pushed her out of the way, “But you still did something. I still want to know what.”  She pressed her hands into my stomach, triggering another belch as she unsettled the contents struggling to digest.  I knew it was mere moments before she would start to pinch and squeeze again—the more she teased and turned me on, the harder it was going to be to concentrate and focus on how to escape this mess.

My instinct already decided I wasn’t going to confess to Roxana, even though I knew it was the right thing to do. Even though I hadn’t made a conscious decision that I was going to lie, it just… happened.

Pressure began to build around my distended abdomen as Roxana’s claws started to dig in once more. I winced, my mind racing with fleeting ideas of what possible lies I could tell that would both justify my extreme reaction back at the party, but not something so extreme that it would make Roxy overly pissed at me. I didn’t want her to be pissed at me; otherwise, I may as well have told her the truth, right?

“Ow, ow, owww…” I whined, trying to wiggle my body away, but Roxana’s muscular thighs just held me in place even tighter in response.

What could I say?! I broke something of hers? No, how could I prove that without actually breaking something? I posted an embarrassing picture of her online? No, mortifying photos on social media were incredibly damaging—that was too cruel.  My skin started to burn once more as Roxana’s claws began tugging the fat she could grip from my taut gut away from me, stretching the skin more than it already was, “Owww!”

“I’m losing my patience, Baby Belle.” Roxana said in a sing-song tone. In case anybody is thinking Roxana was being overly cruel or even abusive, we did have a safe word established, and I trusted her to stop if I was to use it. But this is hot as hell, alright?!  If I needed to use it to save my bacon and get out of this predicament, then I would – I was getting pretty close.

“Itoldmyparentsyoucheatedonmeeee!” I cried out as quickly as I could, pushing my belly up into the air to try and return my poor fat to where it should be, in a vain attempt to cease the pain as Roxana squeezed even tighter.  Gods, make it stop, “Pineapple, pineapple, pineapple!!” Yes, ‘pineapple’ was the safe word. Don’t judge. I flopped wearily back onto the bed as my girlfriend immediately released me, “Oww – URP!” I burped loudly one final time, massaging my poor bloated gut, on which angry nail marks were now imprinted.

“Geez, you held on longer than I thought you would.” Roxana commented, shaking her head, before climbing off of me as she began to digest what I had said. She sighed, putting her head in her hands as she groaned, “Ah, damn it… your parents were never fans of me to begin with; now I bet they hate me, huh?” She took a deep breath before looking up at me again, “Look, it’s not great, and it does hurt that you must think so little of me to be convinced I’d cheat so easily… but what’s done is done, right? Will you tell them you were wrong?”

I nodded hastily, the erratic movement making the room spin even quicker than it already was, “Yes! Yes, of course… I’m uh… I’m sorry!  I’ll tell them right away…” I fumbled around for my phone, rolling onto my side, my distended stomach pushing against the mattress sooner than I expended, emitting a grunt of discomfort from my lips as I flailed about, “Can’t find phone…”

“You don’t need to do it now, Baby Belle!” Roxana chided, shaking her head, “It’s two in the morning! They’re always in bed by ten, plus they’ll probably blame me for letting you get so **.”

“I can pretend I’m sober!” I protested, arms flailing over the side of the bed to try and grab my phone from the floor, “S’easy!”

“…Say ‘she sells sea shells on the sea floor’ three times.” Roxana challenged me with a dry tone.

“She sells sea sells on the sea floor. She shells sea sells on the she floor. See sells she shells on the sea shoor.” I swallowed, my mouth feeling dry, “She? Easy.”

“You just said ‘she’, easy, rather than see, easy.” Roxana countered, shaking her head in amusement, “Plus, there were like fifty errors in that.”

“Ugh, babe, get my phone, please.” I groaned, rolling onto my back again and rubbing my sore stomach, “Too fat for this exercise…”

Roxana scoffed, shaking her head fondly as she reached for my phone, which was apparently right next to me—on my other side, “Don’t phone them, alright? It can wait for tomorrow. As long as it's before Christmas when we see them.”

“Okay…” I sighed before yawning loudly, “Baby Belle’s tired…”

“We should get some sleep.” Roxana nodded with agreement, standing from the bed and starting to remove the remains of her costume,  “I don’t look forward to your hangover in the morning.”

“Ooh, can we get breakfast?” I asked excitedly, stifling another yawn, “Some nice, yummy bacon… sausage… egg…”

“Yes, dear.” Roxana sighed as my eyes started to droop.

“...Fried bread, hash browns, baked beans…”

“Mmhmm.”

“…Toast, mushrooms, ketchup…”

“Yes.”

“…Maybe some pancakes…”

“Okay, fatty.”

 “…You love your fatty…”

“…Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

***

“Good morning, beautiful!” Autumn chirped as she looked over her shoulder as I entered the restaurant kitchen, in the middle of stirring some delicious smelling concoction in a cooking **, “I hope your head has recovered from Halloween; you were quite… merry, let’s say.”

Checking her meal-in-progress would be safe for a few moments, she turned the heat down slightly before turning fully to approach me, her white outfit pleasantly outlining the shape of her round stomach as she opened her arms to embrace me. I quickly stepped back, however, offering a weak, apologetic smile. Autumn paused, her smile fading slightly as she lowered her arms, a frown spreading across her face, “Belle?”

“Autumn, I…” I started nervously, fidgeting with my sleeve as I struggled to meet her grey eyes. I had been dreading this moment, but I desperately craved the feeling of relief and lightness I was sure I’d feel after this needed conversation took place.  Since I realised my horrible mistake about Roxana and Autumn, I knew I needed to put everything right—well, as much as I could—without confessing my betrayal to my girlfriend. But nobody’s perfect, right? If I ended this thing with Autumn and never did it again, then surely it wasn’t too bad keeping it secret—I would only hurt Roxana and myself by telling her.

“You promised me you wouldn’t hurt me again.” Autumn said before I could continue, a strange tone to her voice as she stared at me, “You told me you were sure.”

“I-I was.” I stammered, turning from her to lean on one of the kitchen counters, my arms starting to shake with my nerves, “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to. I was convinced Roxana was cheating on me, and I… thought it was okay.”

“So, what, you only led me on for the last month as revenge against her?” Autumn asked coolly, “You had me thinking you were bracing yourself to tell her you wanted both of us. You said, ‘Maybe we could all be together’, remember?!”

“…I thought we were.” I said numbly, biting my lip, “All this time, I thought… I thought…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it; after all, it had always been a ridiculous thought, hadn’t it? Roxana and Autumn, they were the least likely couple in existence. Even the fact that Autumn was polyamorous would be enough to repel Roxana far, far away. I sometimes wondered if I ever even believed it at all—maybe I had just been looking for any excuse to get what I wanted. To weakly counter my morals, to listen to Greedy Devil Belle on my shoulder.

“You thought what?!” Autumn pressed in a snap, no attempt to keep her voice friendly and understanding, “What do you mean you thought we were?  I told you that if we went further that day, you had to tell Roxana about it. You lied, Belle! I have real, genuine feelings for you! I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone! So much so that I’ve literally ghosted Cameron the last month because I like you so much that I begun to even question my entire being!  I’ve never felt comfortable with just one person before, but you, you made me feel so…” Tears sprung to her eyes, “So loved, you made me feel sexy.  But you’ve just been leading me on.”

“N-No, Autumn, I-“

“No!” She exclaimed furiously, cutting her arm through the air to reinforce her shout, “You don’t get to just take me and drop me like I’m nothing.” She fiercely dove her hand into the front pocket of her apron, whipping her phone out and unlocking it.

My heart froze, and I stepped forward in panic, “A-Autumn, no! Please don’t tell Roxana… please!”

“I’m not.” She replied coldly, glaring up at me, “Not yet, anyway.” She returned her attention to the device, tapping away at it before smirking slightly as she seemed to find what she had been looking for. She tapped the screen once, and I heard some background noise start as she seemed to be playing a recording, “You don’t get to just drop me.” She said again.

“Autumn, what-“ I frowned before hearing voices on whatever recording she was playing.

“I wish I had… I wanted you. I want you.”

That was my voice; what was this?

“If you do this, then you tell Roxana.”

And that was Autumn—my legs started to feel weak as my memory recalled what this moment was.

“Maybe we can all be together, anyway.”

“What?!”

There was the sound of footsteps and some muffled noises before a loud clang—that would be the ladle being knocked off. As Autumn realised I knew what this recording was, she turned the phone screen so that I could see it. My heart sank as I watched myself heavily making out with Autumn, pushed against the counter, in the middle of removing her tight shirt and jeans.  The angle was from the ceiling, and I looked above Autumn’s head to see the CCTV camera in the corner of the room, recording and watching everything. I had been aware of its presence, of course, but I had also been reassured when I first started here that only Autumn had access to it and anything it recorded.

I closed my eyes as the moans of pleasure and whispered nothings started, turning fully away from Autumn as I choked out, “Why do you have that?”

“Assurance.” She replied flatly, stopping the video and putting her phone back into her apron, "Plus, it was sexy watching it back sometimes; we make great lovers.”

“And what?” I asked, my own voice getting frustrated now, “You’re now going to blackmail me with it?  Force me to stay in an affair with you, or you’ll send that to Roxy?”

“Do what you promised you would do.” Autumn stressed before sighing, the hostile demeanour melting away slightly as she returned to her usual soft tone, “You don’t have to stay trapped in that relationship, Belle. Tell Roxana about us; even if you don’t tell her we’re already together, tell her you have feelings for me. She loves you so much; she may understand and may be more open to you being open than we think. And if she’s not? Neither her, myself, nor you deserve to be lied to, cheated on, or hurt. I didn’t sign up to be the ‘other woman’.”

“Or what?” I asked bitterly, nodding towards her pocket, “You send it? That’s the definition of blackmail.”

“Lying and cheating is a worse crime.” Autumn shrugged, “On the plus side, though, you’d still have me.”

“Why would I want you after you ruin my relationship?!” I snapped incredulously, causing Autumn’s eyes to narrow.

“You did that yourself.” She said harshly, shaking her head, “As soon as I realised your attraction to me, I tried to leave, Belle. You pulled me back in that changing room. I then gave you space until you pulled me again here in this kitchen last month. I have done nothing wrong, so you can quit playing like the victim.”

I groaned, pressing my fits into my temples as I leaned over the counter, taking deep breaths. This couldn’t be happening. When did Autumn become such a cold person?!  I had never seen this side of her; I had expected tears, some shouting, even some begging for me to stay. But blackmail?  She talked about me staying trapped in a relationship with Roxana, but wasn’t that exactly what she was now trying to do to make me stay?

I felt sick.  I thought of Roxana watching that video, and it made my heart hurt. She’d done a lot of things, some really cruel things, but she was trying her best to change—for me. She supported me, she defended me, and she loved me despite this journey I was on. Roxana Milsom, fitness enthusiast and health freak, was willingly helping her girlfriend get fat to show her love.  How could I have done this to her?

But the thought of me looking into her eyes as I tell her I had feelings for somebody else, knowing I was still hiding the biggest truth… I knew there was no chance whatsoever of her agreeing to me dating both of them. If, by some miracle, she did, it would only be because she didn’t want to be alone and couldn’t bear to lose me. I would live in guilt every day, knowing I was breaking her heart. But maybe… maybe if I went that route, I could then end it with Autumn shortly after, when Autumn telling Roxana we’d had sex would do no real damage? She would already know.

“There is one other option.” Autumn’s broken silence cut through my inner turmoil, and I turned to look at her hesitantly, but hopefully, as well, silently pleading her to put me out of my misery, “I get the feeling you’ll like this option more, but I promise you it won’t be as fun or easy as it may initially sound.” She stepped forward; the bubbly and friendly chef vanished, her words and demeanour in total contrast to the fiery warmth of her hair, “Are you interested in hearing the third option?”

“Y-Yeah…” I breathed, eyes wide, as I waited to hear this potential lifeline.

She smiled, the expression not reaching her eyes, “I wanted you, Belle. I was falling for you; I was starting to imagine life just with you. If I can’t have your heart, then I will have your body.  I’ve been going easy on you so far with gentle encouragement, but I can go much harder.” Seeing I looked completely lost on where she was going with this, she continued, “I am a feeder, Belle, through and through.  I have never had a true feedee, someone who fully commits to it and lives to make me, their feeder, content.  Every partner I’ve had reaches their ‘limit’, always much sooner than they promise me, never brave enough to push those limits and succumb to gluttony and decadence.”

Now was a really, really inappropriate time to get turned on, but I couldn’t help the growing arousal as I began to realise where this was heading.

Autumn moved even closer until we were inches apart, deliberately not touching me and leaving me wanting, “When people agree before, they usually assume I just mean a few pounds, maybe a few dozen… then when their clothes stop fitting, people make comments, or they realise they get out of breath faster, they give up, and I have nothing to persuade them to keep going.  But you, Belle, can be different.”

My heart was racing at a hundred miles per hour, filled with both terror and excitement. What Autumn was surely about to suggest (or rather, demand) sounded like my hottest fantasy, but as the reality of what that would mean started to creep in, it also sounded very intense.  “…What are you saying?” I croaked, my throat quite dry.

“I shall recap.” Autumn said, starting to unwind slightly as her hostility began to melt away, convinced I was going to say yes to her crazy plan, “You can either tell Roxana you have ‘developed’ feelings for me and hope she permits all three of us living happily ever after.” She pointed her index finger up, then followed by her middle finger to mark ‘two’, “You can do nothing, and I send her this delightfully hot video of us having steamy sex in the kitchen, which, unless Roxy is absolutely obsessed with you, should allow us to be a couple still at least.” Her ring finger finally went up to join its companions, “Or three, you become my feedee for real.  That means you meet every goal I give you, you obey every command I give you. If you fail to pile the pounds at the rate of my liking or start being a naughty pig, then I go with option two and send the video.”

“So rather than blackmailing me to date you, you’re blackmailing me to get fat…?” I breathed, feeling my breasts rising and falling quite dramatically with my rapid heart rate.

“Mmhmm.” Autumn purred, smiling slightly, “I bet Roxana can be quite the dominant feeder with you, but I promise you, she has nothing on me.” Noting the colour filling my cheeks, she went on to add, “To clarify, with option three, you don’t get me. I can do whatever I want with you if I feel like it, but I’m done being the other woman.”

“O-Option three.” I stammered, not only finding the thought of that extremely hot, but knowing I was never going to go with the first two options. Plus, if it got too much, I always had the option to confess to Roxana myself and end the blackmail. Oh God, why did I find this so hot? I should be pissed at Autumn, angry at her for what was really a horrible tactic to get her own way. I had hurt her; I had been in the wrong, but this… I couldn’t wait.

“Are you sure?” Autumn asked, struggling to hide the satisfied smile crossing her face, “I’m not sure if you understand what you’re signing up for.  You asked me before about how fat I’d find attractive on you, do you remember how high you went with your challenges to me?”

I gulped, “Y-Yeah… four hundred pounds.”

“Indeed, on top of what your current weight was.” Autumn smirked, “Which meant 520 pounds. I don’t believe I complained about that.” I stared at her incredulously, stunned, the obvious question unasked but soon answered, “You accepting this option means you’re accepting to eat your way up to that weight if that’s what I choose. Depends on how I feel as you get fatter and fatter, softer and softer. Maybe I’ll take pity on you sooner than that.”

Oh my god, over five hundred pounds?!  I’d pictured option three maybe going as high as three hundred, which was already a huge and very fat number.  But that number was nearly triple my current weight, when I had already gained seventy pounds.  The number Autumn had just thrown at me was nearly FIVE times heavier than I was only five months ago. I tried to even imagine having four entire other Belle’s as part of me; how would I even be able to lift myself? How would I even find any clothes that fit? Any chairs that would take my immense weight? Beds, cars, doorframes, stairs… it was ludicrous, it was absolutely unreasonable, and the sheer consequence such an insane weight would have on my entire life was absolutely not worth it.

 “Fine.” I finally said, despite myself. I knew I could find a way out of it—probably very soon actually. All I’d need was the courage to find a time to confess to Roxana; at least Autumn was giving me motivation to do exactly that. Then I could leave this crazy chef behind for good.

But what if you don’t find a time, Belle?

The idea of getting so hugely fat was a daunting one, but come on, let’s be real. Everybody, especially me, is extremely intrigued by a five-hundred-pound Belle. I couldn’t even picture her in my head, let alone imagine what that would be like. But the thought of it excited me so badly that I couldn’t not at least see how it goes, right?  Being fattened up to a mere pudgy 180 (nearly) had been exhilarating, and I was genuinely living my absolute best life. Every day was wonderful, every inch of my growing body was perfect, and I would absolutely not change a single thing.

Maybe another 440 pounds of this journey would be just as exciting.

“Absolutely sure?” Autumn asked one last time, the smirk on her face growing, “You are ready to truly become my helpless feedee?”

“Yes.” I nodded breathlessly.

“Excellent.” Autumn smirked, her own large chest heaving with her own excitement, her eyes glinting, “Don’t worry, dear Belle; we both know this will be so fun for both of us.  Your first goal… you’re what weight now?”

“Uh… 177 pounds.” I confessed, swallowing hard as I thought about how… tiny that number now seemed in comparison to Autumn’s plans. Surely she wouldn’t actually take it that far?  If all her previous ‘feedees’ chickened out much sooner, then she’d never actually witnessed anybody even close to that size. She’d probably stop finding it attractive long before that, or get bored, or something.

“So tiny.” Autumn smirked, as if she had read my mind, “Well, it’s the start of November now. Just over seven weeks until Christmas. On Christmas Day morning, I expect visual proof that you’ve hit the big two hundred.”

I gaped, “Two hundred?! By Christmas?!  That’s…”

“Twenty-three pounds.” Autumn shrugged, “That’s not even four pounds a week; I’d say it’s an easily achievable target—in fact, you’re right, it’s too easy a target.” That’s not at all what I was going to say. “Let’s make it 207—thirty pounds, and that was your initial goal, was it not? A hundred pounds heavier? That’d be a lovely Christmas present for us both, no?”

“Thirty…” I felt faint, “I don’t… I don’t know if that’s possible…”

"Then it looks like Roxana will be receiving a very unwanted Christmas gift.” Autumn said in a serious tone, frowning, before getting her phone out again, holding her other hand up in a ‘shush’ manner. I waited impatiently as she seemed to browse her phone for something, “Aha. Seven weeks ago today, you told me you were 147 pounds; back in mid-September, you’ve gained thirty pounds since then. All you have to do is exactly the same thing, in exactly the same amount of time. A piece of cake, of which I recommend eating plenty.”

“But… but it’s different, w-with the pressure of having to…” I swallowed, scrunching my eyes shut and calming myself down, “If… if I don’t make it, you’ll really send her the video? Just like that?”

“Yes.” Autumn said, her expression turning hard, “I asked you three times if you were sure, and what, are you already regretting it?”

“Y-Yes, I…” I tugged at my hair anxiously, gritting my teeth. How can I be so stupid?!

“I’ll send this video now, then, save us all the hassl-“

“No!” I reached forward, but Autumn held the phone away from me, taking a step back, “Alright! I’ll just tell her the truth! Just give me until tonight, and I’ll tell her!”

“No, Belle!” Autumn snapped, turning away from me, “You already accepted, despite how many chances I gave you. Just stuff your face like you always do and succumb to the greedy pig that you know deep inside you are. You take and you take, whether you should or not; this will be no problem for you. Thirty pounds by Christmas Day, and that’s just the beginning. Now go home; I don’t need you today. Don’t worry, you’ll still get paid; my pig needs money for all the food she’ll be stuffing herself with, after all.”

“Autumn…”

“Go, Belle!” Autumn snapped, spinning to face me, and I realised, with a lump in my throat, that she had tears in her eyes. What she was doing was ludicrous, but despite how cruel it was, I felt nothing but guilt bubbling inside me that I had hurt her so much that she felt justified to do this. I felt guilt bubbling inside that I was allowing myself to go down this path rather than tell my girlfriend the truth—the least she deserved after everything I had done.

I felt guilt bubbling inside me that I was trying my best to fight away the realisation that I was going to enjoy every second of this. The realisation that I was already planning how I was going to gain that weight and more. The realisation that all barriers were starting to crumble now.

The realisation that I no longer just wanted to gain weight.

I needed to.

A/N: Seems like the more villainous character in the story might be changing, huh? Then again, if anybody's the villain, it's probably Belle.

[thrawn]

Masterfully done!!!! I did not see it coming and it opens the story up for so many fun situations to write. Love it!

[lsactt]

Thank you so much!!

[lsactt]

Chapter 24 

"Good morning, everyone, and welcome to the first year of your journey into the food-tastic world of Food Science and Nutrition! I'm Carl, surname Lorie—yes, put together, that comes very close to calorie. See, it's almost as if I was destined to teach Food Nutrition, right? My parents definitely saw that coming!”

I gave a chuckle from my spot three rows from the front, fiddling with the lid of my pen nervously as I looked around at the students around me. This large auditorium was intensely different from what I was used to at school or even in sixth form completing my A-Levels; it all felt so much more… academic.  I had been one of the first to arrive, choosing a spot not right at the front but not right at the back either. Not too far away from anybody, but not right next to anyone either. Fortunately, as the last students trickled in and Carl closed the door, it stayed that way, giving her plenty of space for her stationery.

I wasn’t an anxious girl normally; people described me as bubbly and confident, and I could agree with them. I had been popular at school, but despite being blonde and what people called ‘hot’ (their words, not mine), I wouldn’t say I fit into the bitchy queen bee cliché. But I was never bullied; very few people disliked me; I was fairly smart; and I had been friends with both nerds and what Americans would call ‘jocks’ and ‘cheerleaders’.

But here I was at the University of Surrey, in a course full of strangers, apart from all of those friends. Most of those friendships drifted in college, with only a few close ones sticking by, separating the ‘friends of convenience slash situation’ from those who cared specifically for me. Of those few, plus the few extras I made in the previous two years, not one found themselves chasing the same destiny I did through university—that being the ‘food-tastic’ world of Food Science and Nutrition my new lecturer just announced.

“Sorry I’m late!” A voice called from the front of the room as the door that Carl had just closed swung open once more, revealing a honey-skinned, rather tall girl with dark hair in a single ponytail clutching books to her chest, rather out-of-breath. A few students giggled, but at a glare from the latecomer, soon turned these into awkward coughs and silence.

Raising his eyebrows, Carl Lorie looked to the girl and said, “You know, they say breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but only if you wake up in time to eat it. Don't worry, though. Oversleeping might mean you missed your morning toast, but here's a crumb of comfort…” A few chuckles rumble around the room once more, “Studies suggest extra sleep can actually improve your metabolism. So, in a way, you've just been giving your body a little extra nutritional support!”

“I didn’t oversleep!” The girl exclaimed crossly, cheeks darkening, “I was on a run!”

Carl raises his eyebrows in mock surprise, then offers a broad grin, "Ah, well, that changes everything! Running, you say? Excellent choice! In that case, you've kick-started your metabolism even before setting foot in class. Not to mention, you've just burned off the breakfast you didn't have time to eat. Efficiency at its finest! Just remember, folks, a good run can be like a morning coffee for your metabolism, and it seems our friend here is already a few steps ahead. Let's give her a round of applause for running the extra mile for nutrition!" The room filled with light applause, some more laughter, and finally earning a small smile from the flustered girl, “It’s the first day; just don’t make a habit of it, alright?”

She nodded, muttering thanks, before heading towards the steps up the auditorium, dark eyes scanning each row for an empty spot, before they settled on the empty spot beside me, currently occupying my backpack.  She then looked at me, offering the awkward smile that suggested she was about to break her own rules of introvertedness with the dilemma of needing to initiate human contact to be able to sit down in this class. Before she had to speak, though, I took the hint and offered her a cheerful smile back, removing my bag and setting it on the floor beside my legs.

“Take a seat!” I exclaimed, pulling my legs back to allow the girl space to move by. I detected the scent of freshly sprayed perfume as she shimmied past, trying not to admire her taut and toned rear (not too much, at least) shifting past my face. The girl was athletic; it was obvious just by looking at her, as well as from her late arrival and choice of outfit.  She was attractive, that’s for sure—more than her ass(ets), she had beautiful eyes and an expressive face.  Plus, her boobs were great.  I first discovered I was bisexual in my first year of sixth form college, and I actually hadn’t had a boyfriend since school.  I went on a few dates over the two years of my A-Levels, a few less second dates, but nothing had stuck.

“Thanks.” The girl said gratefully as she settled into the chair next to me, rustling around as she started preparing everything she needed for the lesson, lowering her voice so as to not disturb the rest of the class or Carl as he started talking again, “Nothing like all eyes on you for your first day of uni, huh?”

I grinned, “It was quite an entrance, but don’t worry about it! One of the guys above us somewhere tripped on the second step and spilled coffee on his white designer shirt whilst flailing like a cartoon character. You’re good.”

She snorted, a cute noise, “Ha. Thanks. I’m Roxana, by the way, Roxana Milsom.”

“Belle Fletcher.” I smiled warmly, offering my hand for her to shake, “Feel free to be my next-door-seat-neighbour for the rest of the course, if you’d like.”

Roxana smiled appreciatively, the flustered nature from her encounter with Carl fading as she relaxed. She was clearly relieved that she ended up next to somebody normal—a friend, maybe. “That sounds great.” She said softly, “Thank you.”

“Cheers to the next three years, then!” I chirped, holding up my takeaway cup of mocha. Roxana chuckled, lifting her light blue sports water bottle to tap my cup as I continued, “May they be life-changing, nutritious, and... food-tastic, as Carl will surely say at least three times a class!”

 

***

“Do… up!” I hissed in frustration, tugging fiercely at the material of my jeans. My tongue poked out to the side of my mouth in concentration as I sucked my stomach in; however, that did very little to help the paunch of my lower tummy, which stubbornly remained protruding out over the waistband that was blocking my view of even seeing the damn button that wouldn’t reach the hole on the other side, “Damn it!”

I let go of the two flaps of material, releasing my breath and causing my belly to surge forward once again, pushing the flaps away again and forcing the zip back down to make way. I looked at myself in the mirror, grabbing a handful of my chub and giving it a pleasant shake, watching the ripples of flesh in the mirror. I looked hot, so much so that I was genuinely worried I was becoming a narcissist. Was it narcistic behaviour to look in the mirror and like what you saw?  Or was it self-love, which was a big deal nowadays?

I supposed a true narcissist wouldn’t question or worry that they were a narcissist. Maybe.

Another day, another pair of jeans outgrown—these ones hurt almost as much as the day I had to retire my favourite canary yellow jeans, mainly because it felt like only yesterday when I bought them back in the store with that poor girl called Leah. They had been expensive, and I had been way too entranced by Roxana’s teasing and deliberate attempts to cram me into way-too-tiny outfits, to listen to the nagging voice in my brain telling me I definitely needed to size up considering my life goal right now was to reach a weight that was always going to be too soft and round for these size twelve jeans.

A few wiggles and curses later, they lay discarded in a slump on our bed, never to be worn again as my descent into gluttony continued at an alarming weight.  My thighs took a few moments to stop jiggling; I couldn’t help but notice, eventually settling back to their soft, permanent existence. I stepped towards the tall mirror, feeling all parts of me jiggle that I never even felt until recent weeks. I used to jog, jump, or simply walk, and apart from my boobs and my hips, everything else just stayed… still.  Now, my belly, thighs, ass, and even my upper arms seemed to have minds of their own.

I immediately turned to the side as I looked in the mirror, wearing nothing except a pair of panties that barely covered anything. The thin strap dug into my hip, pinching into enough fat that it almost disappeared, whilst a generous portion of my butt spilled above and below the already small amount of material at the back. As I turned to look over my shoulder, stretching my body slightly, I watched as the soft flesh of my lower butt dimpled and creased into what, as I discovered with shock recently, was a small patch of cellulite.  I squeezed my behind; it could only be described as plump or maybe even full-on chubby now.  As I kneaded the fat that had such fondness for accumulating around my lower half, it felt like squeezing a sponge, soft squishy flesh in my fingers before the hard resistance of my glutes that were becoming harder and harder to find, yet still present from years of hard training.

My thighs were huge, or they felt that way, at least. I supposed it helped that, with how muscular they were to start with, adding on nine inches of fat to each thigh would make them look extremely impressive.  They were starting to touch now, and I wondered if that was enough justification to call them ‘thunder thighs’. As I turned to face the mirror, examining my shape, my ‘pearness’ was blatant, the top of my thighs and my hips ballooning out noticeably wider than my shoulders and boobs, giving my top half a fairly triangular shape.

My DD-Cup boobs continued to expand; the extra ‘D’ was a proud moment for me at my latest bra shopping, as well as increasing to a thirty-six. Although I was clearly a pear, I was fortunate enough to still be doing pretty damn well in the boob department!  I still preferred my butt, though, the way it stretched my jeans, the way it felt, and just how feminine and sexy it made me feel. But looking at my boobs from the side was like looking at a stranger—in some ways, the way they remained perky despite going up several cup sizes in less than half-a-year. They looked so much softer, they jiggled more, and they just felt more like part of me.

Thighs, boobs, and butt were all inferior to my centrepiece, though. I loved my tummy. Genuinely, I adored her. I was obsessed with staring at her. I was constantly pinching and rubbing her. Hell, I literally spoke to her often, as if she was a pet of mine or a sentient being. Although, with how loud she could be when there was a pause in my frequent stuffing sessions, she may as well have a voice and soul.

I was chubby. I couldn’t deny it any more. I was a girl that gym-goers would look at walking into the gym and feel petty sympathy and thoughts that I should’ve turned up sooner.  Rather than showing concern over my low weight and encouraging me to try and build my weight up to reach a healthy level, a doctor would now be expressing concern over my body fat percentage, my BMI, and my diet, encouraging me to reduce my calorie intake and increase my exercise.

2023 had been a crazy year, and it was still not over, although December was only a few days away.  I had rocketed over the past five months from the cusp of underweight and cleared both the healthy and overweight ranges at record speed. That’s right, imaginary readers of my brain, Belle Fletcher is now obese!  Obese… the word felt alien and harsh. Sure, I was chubby, but I was still so small. I didn’t draw attention and shocked looks for my size yet, just judgement from the skinny queens of the world.  How many levels into obesity would I need to get to in order to actually feel like I was fat?

This starter belly barely reflected my gluttony, the enormous quantities of food I was shoving down into her on a daily basis, especially over the past few weeks. Yesterday, I had deliberately cut back on my eating (despite the dangers involved in that with the looming deadline) because I was desperate to see myself this morning without a constantly bloated stomach, to give everything a chance to settle.

I had been rewarded, stepping onto the scale, with the number ‘191’, just nine pounds from two hundred, eighty-four pounds of fat jiggling over my body. Still another sixteen to go, and another four weeks until Christmas Day.

I grabbed my belly, easily clutching two handfuls of chub in my hands and jiggling it about; barely any discomfort felt as I squeezed it.  She freely protruded now; I didn’t need to pinch and prise to try and find some fat on me; the fat was just there, hanging off of me. My side profile was sexy; my entire belly was probably three or four inches further forward than before I gained any weight, crescending into her furthest point just below my belly button, which now protruded further out (when empty!) than my boobs did, which felt… significant.

I had clear love handles too, significant ones, and despite it being against all social etiquette, I loved being out and about with that delicious roll of fat hanging over the waistband of my few-sizes-too-small jeans. Roxana had developed a habit of squeezing and holding it as we walked, her arm around me. I wasn’t sure she even realised she was doing it. I felt so sexy and soft, especially when I walked past a shop window where my reflection was visible, my soft belly jiggling and bouncing as I walked past, the lower squeezable part often on show and dancing ahead of me like she was leading me to her next meal.

My belly button was much deeper, too, and I tested the theory now by poking my finger into the dark cavern.  At my skinniest, it was barely an indent as my forming abs almost blocked it from going any further—it was basically a circle in the centre of my stomach, going nowhere and uninteresting. Now, inches of flab surrounded it, presenting an inviting tunnel that you could not see the end of, mysterious and unknown.

So yeah, 191 pounds! As well as my weight, my measurements had increased to 41.5”-36.5”-51”, with 27” thighs.  Total increase of eighty-four pounds, ten-and-a-half inches of boob, eleven-and-a-half inches of belly, a massive fourteen inches of butt, and nine inches per thigh. I was definitely thick, probably similar in shape to what Autumn looked like when I first met her. A shiver went down my spine as I thought this, remembering how I viewed her as if she was huge when we met. And yet I looked at myself now as if I was still tiny.

The joys of perception.

***

 “So what are you hoping to get from our course?” Roxana asked, sipping her glass of red wine as she looked to me, the nerves evidence in her face, hands trembling slightly as she accidentally knocked the glass against her plate as she lowered it, “What are you wanting to do after... as a career?”

She was so beautiful; I couldn’t help but think for the hundredth time as I gazed at her over our small candlelit table.  I liked to go ‘all out’ on a first date, and so my favourite restaurant seemed like a perfect fit for a girl as special as Roxana. Ever since the first day of term, it felt like I was spending every spare minute with the girl—not just in class but outside of it as well.

"Actually, I have a bit of a dream to become a chef," I confessed, a little shy about revealing this ambition, "I want to combine my love for food with the knowledge we gain from our nutrition course to create meals that are delicious… and full of nutrition." I added the last few words as an afterthought. Roxana seemed super passionate about health and fitness after all; I didn’t want her thinking I was planning on making the next big fast-food chain!

“That’s cute.” Roxana smiled at me kindly, “You look like you could be a chef; I’m not sure you’d be good at yelling at your lackeys to hurry up with the sauce, though.” She smirked playfully.

I hesitated for a moment, wondering what exactly she meant by ‘I look like I could be a chef'—the stereotype for a chef was big and round, and I glanced down at myself self-consciously. I wasn’t overly skinny, but I didn’t think I was fat either; I was curvy, and I’d always got attention, especially from boys.  I tried brushing the comment away; surely she didn’t mean it that way.

“I want to open a gym, maybe even a chain of gyms.” Roxana explained thoughtfully, not noticing my self-conscious thought trail, “Or be a fitness influencer or something. Just a fitness name, y’know? Maybe we could work together!” She giggled to herself, “They can come to my gym to lose the weight from your restaurant—discount vouchers or something.”

“They wouldn’t gain weight from my restaurant!” I laughed, although that comment bugged me for some reason, as if my concern about Roxana thinking I was going to be the next ‘Crispy Cluckers’ (a big fried chicken brand) was true, “My food will be full of lots of goodness and nutrition!” Roxana laughed, and I continued, “That sounds great, though. I can tell you’re a driven girl; I know you’ll succeed one day.”

Roxana smiled gratefully, "Aw, thanks, Belle... and thank you for agreeing to go on a date with me. I’ve only recently... come out, you know? So you’re the first…” she broke off uncomfortably, and I gave her a reassuring smile, not wanting to hasten her on this important note. Finally, she finished, “The first girl I’ve ever been on a date with. Th-The first girl I’ve ever openly… liked.”

Roxana's admission hung in the air, delicate and vulnerable, like the flicker of the candle flame between us. The warmth of her gratitude was palpable, even as her voice trailed off, leaving unspoken words suspended in the intimate space of our table. It was one of those moments where the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of us, the background hum of the restaurant fading into a distant murmur.

"I'm really glad you did," I replied, my own voice soft, a smile spreading across my face, "I've felt a connection with you since the first day we met. Your passion, your drive... it's inspiring." I meant every word, and I hoped she could see the sincerity in my eyes. Roxana had this incredible energy about her, a radiant positivity that drew me in from the moment we first exchanged smiles over textbooks and lecture notes.

"I felt the same." She confessed, her gaze dropping to her glass before courage brought her eyes back to mine, "There's something about you, Belle. Your energy, your smile, your eyes… it’s infectious. You’re infectious. I know it’s a corny thing to say, but I’ve absolutely no idea how you’re single—especially if you like guys, too.”

I buried my face in my wine glass to hide my bashful expression, taking a moment, “W-Well, I only realised I was bisexual a couple of years ago, and I wanted more time to explore that, you know? You could say I took a break from boys, and at college, I used the time to explore girls. …That sounded a bit creepy, but you know what I mean!” Roxana gave me a look, smirking nervously, and I could just tell she was wishing she had the confidence to make a flirtatious joke in response to that, but she couldn’t follow through with it.

Our laughter mingled and danced in the air, easy and genuine. The evening unfolded with effortless conversation, touching on everything from our favourite foods and childhood memories to ambitious dreams and the fears that occasionally shadowed them. With each shared story and disclosed secret, the initial layer of nervousness peeled away, revealing a profound connection that neither of us could deny.

As the night wore on, the restaurant's ambiance shifted; the lights dimmed further, and the tables around us began to empty. But in our little bubble, time seemed irrelevant. Our initial awkwardness had transformed into a comfortable familiarity, as if we had known each other for many years, and sat through many restaurant meals together rather than two girls on their first date.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the awkward feeling of my stomach pressing against my tight dress as I put down my knife and fork halfway through my dessert.  I hadn’t planned on having a dessert, but Roxana had insisted it was okay after seeing my excitement that the restaurant had added one of my favourite puddings of all time to the menu—a salted caramel cheesecake!  I was disappointed to stop, in all honesty, but I just couldn’t bear the fitness enthusiast in front of me thinking I was a pig.

“You full?” My date questioned me, raising her eyebrows slightly. Wait, was she surprised? Did she think I had a huge appetite or something?

“…Getting there.” I laughed weakly, looking at the annoyingly delicious half-a-cheesecake remaining.

Roxana chuckled slightly, before reaching over to grab the spoon. I assumed she was going to try some herself as she scooped a piece off and lifted it, ensuring none of the caramel drizzle escaped.  But then instead, she lifted the spoon up towards my lips, a bright smile on her face, “C’mon, I could see the disappointment in your face as you stopped eating it. I know you can fit it in; go for it.”

Fit it in…? Did my belly just look big enough to fit two courses of food in without a problem? Did I look bigger than I thought?  Was this some kind of test for her to tell if I’m too greedy or something? These and several other thoughts swam around my brain as my heart raced, but despite that, I found myself really wanting to let Roxana feed me the rest of my pudding. It was… cute?  So I opened my mouth, and the sweet, gooey goodness of the dessert tasted so much sweeter as Roxana delicately spooned it past my lips.

***

“Damn, you look big.” Roxana commented with raised eyebrows as I finally entered the living room.

I’d given up on any form of jeans, none of them even close to fastening. Instead, I’d resorted to the latest gym bottoms I’d purchased a few weeks ago but had yet to actually use. I was shocked at how much I filled them now, having to loosen the drawstrings quite a bit to accommodate my tummy.  I then threw a fleecy cream jumper on, which pulled off quite a cute look. Last winter, the jumper was baggy, comfy, and cosy. Now, the growth of my upper half pulled it up, where the front now reached just above my belly button, the shape of my boobs prominent above.

Sadly, my current mood didn’t reflect the excitement and thrill of my ongoing weight gain, instead reflecting stress and frustration. It wasn’t enough.  I had left the restaurant following Autumn’s blackmail at the start of the month excited, and terrified, beyond belief.  Now, nearly four weeks later, I was just terrified.  November wasn’t even fully finished, and yet I had already had a record-breaking month in terms of the ridiculous amount of weight I’d gained. My waist and hips had both grown three inches just this month alone; it was ludicrous.

Despite the constant stuffing of my stomach to inhumane bloated sizes, it frustrated me that I hadn’t even gained any extra weight than my current record back in September. There were literally three human beings determined to fatten me up: Roxana, eager to dominate and keep me happy whenever possible. Autumn, seeking to fatten me up to the same weight as an average female polar bear (thanks, Wikipedia). And myself, desperate to keep her life in tact and the two women in her life happy and not hating her.

It felt like I ate all day, twenty-four seven.  I’d barely been at work the last few weeks; Autumn was paying me anyway, ordering takeaways and shovelling as much food as I could down my throat. I’d been eating so much that on multiple occasions, I’d overdone it and ended up throwing my guts up into the toilet. I’d overdone it so much that, for a couple of days, I couldn’t even get out of bed from very painful tummy aches.  Maybe it was those days that screwed me over; I couldn’t afford to fail like that. All the weight I’d gained since that conversation, I needed to do again in another four weeks. That should suggest I was on track, but there was too much riding on making this to assume I’d be okay.

And the thought of another four weeks of belly aches, indigestion, trying not to puke... that sounded like torture. This stupid deal I made had sucked the fun and thrill out of it for me. I just hoped that if I met Autumn’s deadline, she would see that I was serious about sticking to the deal and ease up on me a bit. Or maybe I’d successfully destroy my metabolism and could just look at a cake and put on a stone.

Or, I did the decent thing and just confessed to Roxana.

No.

I forced a smile towards my girlfriend, looking down at the slither of belly peeking out from my too-small jumper, “I feel it. 191 pounds this morning.” I watched the cogs turn in Roxana’s brain as she digested that, her dark eyes fixed on my round belly, probably questioning how the 107-pound skinny blonde could possibly be the same as the plump girl standing here now, not far off double the weight.

“Wow… fatty.” She smirked deviously at me. Despite my bad mood, the word still sent that tingle through me, but it was dulled.  The choice of my body had been taken away from me yet again, just in the opposite direction. Whilst before I felt caged, not allowed to ever indulge, to ever gain a pound… now I felt as if I was attached to some evil device, a tube stuck down my throat, swelling me up no matter what I wanted.  Seeing the frown on my face, Roxana’s smirk faded, “Are you alright, Baby Belle?”

I shrugged, tugging the jumper back down as the simple gesture tugged it up another inch, before throwing myself onto the sofa. A loud thump and a creak surprised me in response. I barely even imprinted into the seat when I was skinny, and now the weight of me threatened the structure of the whole sofa, “I’m great; I’m so close to two hundred pounds... I’m hoping to reach my goal by Christmas.” No harm in being honest, I needed all the help I could get, so if Roxana knew that, then she could help me get there.

“Yet you don’t sound excited…” She commented, moving to be next to me, kneeling sideways on the middle seat of the sofa, facing towards me. Her voice was filled with concern, with the desire for me to just be happy, “I’m excited.”  She reached over, her cool hand soon meeting the soft fat of my stomach as she slipped under my jumper, stroking the pliable flesh. My tummy growled in response, having essentially been starved yesterday, “Oh wow, it’s actually quite remarkable how soft you are... you’ve usually got a mountain of food in there.” Genuinely seeming surprised, she stared at my stomach, both hands now testing the squishy, empty organ, covered in inches of greedy fat.

“…Why are you excited?” I asked with a frown, closing my eyes and leaning back as I used my own hands to tug my jumper up, offering my full belly for Roxana to play with.

“It’s like I said before, my Squish-a-belle,” she purred, and I allowed a reluctant giggle to escape my lips at the new nickname she’d started using for me, “I’m attracted to your confidence; it’s a literal turn-on. And… I dunno, I picture the day you hit two hundred in my mind, and I picture your excitement…” She swung herself onto my lap, her powerful thighs pressing down against my soft ones, quite literally sinking into the fat. She grabbed my love handles, using them to pull herself close to me so our bodies were touching. I winced slightly as she tugged and pinched the rolls of chub, but her ploy to cheer me up was working, my arousal fighting against my stress for control, “I thought we could do something special.”

My rate of breath was increasing as I placed my hands over Roxana’s own, encouraging her to continue to squeeze, rub, and play with me, “…Special? Like what?”

“You’ll see.” Despite my eyes being shut, I could hear the smirk on Roxy’s lips, “Be a good piggy and eat your way up to it, and you can find out!”

Unfortunately, that had the opposite effect of what Roxy intended, as the reminder of my predicament flooded me once more. “…Belle? I… don’t want to presume your feelings or anything like that, but... are you okay? With your weight?”

I opened my eyes, smiling slightly at her, “Yeah… sorry, I… guess I’ve been trying really hard to hit my goal this year, that I’ve put a lot of pressure on myself. I know that sounds pathetic; after all, it’s not at all important. Or… it shouldn’t be important. But it’s kinda… taken a lot of the fun out of it, y’know?”

“It’s not pathetic, babe.” Roxana reassured me, gently playing with my tummy as she smiled to me kindly, “It’s important to you. Your body image and self-confidence is not a small thing, being happy is one of the most important things ever. So… no, Belle, it’s not pathetic, and it is very important. It’s been a journey for both of us, and I dunno, I just feel so much… closer to you since this started. If it wasn’t for you chubbing up,” I blushed at the wording, and Roxy laughed, “Then I’d still have all of that guilt on top of me from how I’ve treated you. I still do, of course, but it’s a lot easier to deal with now that I’ve told you about it all. And I still don’t think you believe me, but even though it’s for different reasons than yourself, I’ve genuinely found your weight gain sexy as fuck.”

“…Really?” I asked, blinking, “I mean, you’ve… hinted at that, but I don’t think you’ve said it so… er… directly.”

“Every pound you’ve gained, it’s like you’ve gained a pound of confidence.” Roxana answered, nodding, “I love feeding you; I love being hugely responsible for your growing body; I love feeling you grow heavier each day... I love when you overeat yourself to pain; you’re so helpless to your gluttony and desires that I have total control over you…”

I couldn’t even remember how we ended up naked, but apparently during that incredibly sexy speech, we’d been wrestling ourselves out of our clothes. My belly wasn’t empty for much longer.

***

“I had such a nice time tonight.” I said softly in the cool, early autumnal night air as we continued our walk back to campus, “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.” Roxy replied, squeezing my hand. It felt so surreal to be walking through the streets holding a girl’s hand, and I knew she was thinking exactly the same thing, “I really enjoyed it, and I’d… love to go out with you again. I-If you want, that is.”

It was so cute seeing the normally assertive and self-assured Roxana stammering and nervous. I couldn’t help but smile widely as I paused in walking, turning to her and saying, “I want nothing more.”

The night was a canvas of inky blues and silvery moonlight, the quiet streets of the town bathed in a serene glow. Roxana's confession, simple yet loaded with the weight of new beginnings, hung between us, a tender moment of mutual vulnerability. Her hand in mine felt like a promise, a silent pledge of possibilities yet to be explored. Our steps had slowed, and as I turned to face her, the world seemed to pause, holding its breath along with us. Roxana's eyes, usually so full of determination and fire, now shimmered with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. The soft glow of the streetlamp above us cast delicate shadows across her features, highlighting the gentle curve of her cheek and the fullness of her lips.

"I want nothing more," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper, infused with a sincerity that resonated deeply within me. In that moment, I saw the walls Roxana had built around herself begin to crumble, her usual armour of confidence momentarily set aside, revealing the genuine, raw emotion beneath. She stepped closer, the distance between us shrinking until I could feel the warmth radiating from her body. The cool night air seemed to hold a charge, electric and pulsing, as if the universe itself was urging us closer. Roxana's gaze dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes. A silent question asked and answered without a single word spoken.

And then, with a courage that must have taken her every ounce of resolve, Roxana leaned in. Her breath was a warm caress against my skin, a whisper of mint and red wine that made my heart race. The initial contact was hesitant, a fleeting touch that spoke volumes about the significance of this moment for both of us, especially for her. It was her first kiss with a girl—a boundary crossed, a line redrawn in the narrative of her life.

But the hesitance was quickly replaced by a burgeoning curiosity, a desire to explore the new and unknown. Her lips pressed more firmly against mine, a gentle but determined exploration that sent a jolt of warmth through my entire body. My response was instinctive: a natural gravitation towards her, hands finding their way to her waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.

Time seemed irrelevant, lost in the softness of her lips against mine, the tentative brush of her tongue, the mingling of our breaths. The kiss was a dance, tentative steps followed by a harmonious rhythm, as if our bodies had known each other for lifetimes. The world around us faded into obscurity; the only reality that mattered was the connection between us, a bond sealed with a kiss that was both an ending and a beginning.

The only thing that was ruining this magical, perfect moment, as Roxana pulled me closer to her, was when my bloated stomach brushed against hers, perfectly flat and toned as always—as if nothing had been consumed by the girl. Instinctively, I sucked in as much as I could, allowing my date to tug me an inch or so closer. Did she notice?  I hoped not.

The only other thing that could ruin it was a loud wolf whistle cutting through the night, followed by the chuckles of drunken men. Roxana pulled away from me immediately, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, as we both turned to the group of four men staggering down the street opposite us, “Yeahhh, ladies!! Don’t stop on our account!” He whistled again as his friends cackled as if the funniest joke in the world had been told.

I rolled my eyes, shouting, “Whatever, guys, has no one told you we’re in the 21^st century now?!”

“Hey, it’s a compliment!” He shouted back, “You’re like, seriously hot!”

I gave him the middle finger, before turning away and grabbing Roxana’s hand again, “C’mon, ignore them. Let’s go.”

“Damn, that ass!” Jerk-face then shouted, “Hey, muscle girl, get the heck out the way!  Blocking the view!”

I felt Roxana’s grip on my hand tighten, and I looked at her, just catching a glimpse of the hurt crossing her face at the remark.  I felt extremely uncomfortable too, not just at the unwanted attention towards me but also because I assumed the whistling and harassment was aimed at both of us—two girls kissing and all that. I wondered if Roxana had felt the same, and a pang of sympathy and also guilt filled me.

What could I say to that?  How could I comfort the girl next to me without drawing attention to the fact that those dicks only found me attractive?  They were crazy anyway; Roxana was hot as hell and could probably floor that entire group of idiots one-handed.

“I totally get you being a lesbian.” I commented as we left the drunken fools behind, trying to lighten the mood, “Boys are dicks.”

“Tell me about it.” Roxana chuckled half-heartedly, her subdued tone confirming the change of atmosphere as we continued back in silence.

The rest of the walk was filled with reflective silence, each of us lost in our thoughts. The initial exhilaration of our connection, which was so vibrant and alive in the privacy of our bubble, now faced the sobering light of external judgement and the realisation that our journey together would be fraught with challenges both personal and societal.

As we reached the campus, the silhouette of our dorms outlined against the starry sky, Roxana stopped and faced me, "I really did have a great time tonight, Belle. Despite... everything." Her voice was firmer now, with a determined edge to it that I had come to admire.

"Me too," I agreed, my heart aching for her, for us, for the simplicity of the moments before the interruption, "Let's not let them spoil it, okay?"

Roxana nodded, the resolve in her eyes a clear indication that she was already moving past the incident, even if the emotional residue would linger. "Okay," she affirmed, "Goodnight, Belle. And thank you for a memorable first date." With that, she leaned in for a brief, chaste kiss on my cheek, a gesture that, while lacking the intensity of our first, carried a depth of affection and a promise of more to come. Then, with a final squeeze of my hand, she turned and walked away, her figure gradually merging with the shadows until she was out of sight.

Left alone, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over me. The events of the evening had peeled back layers of complexity in our budding relationship, revealing insecurities and societal pressures I hadn't anticipated. And as I made my way back to my dorm, the exhilaration of our kiss now tempered by the reality of the challenges ahead, I couldn't help but wonder how these early tests would shape us, both as individuals and as a couple.

What I didn't know then was how deeply the incident would affect Roxana, planting seeds of resentment and insecurity that would grow, in the shadows of her psyche, into a compelling need to control and manipulate. Our journey of love and discovery had just begun, and the path, it seemed, would be far from smooth.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the flashback! Or if not, let me know why haha

[lsactt]

Just to update here that I haven't vanished again, the next chapter is in progress, I'm just taking my time to make sure I'm writing for myself rather than rushing it Thanks for your patience ❤️ 

[lsactt]

Chapter 25

What is feederism?

Enter.

Roxana bit her lip, shifting a bit awkwardly as she scrolled down the first few search results. It wasn't the first time she had asked this particular question to the endless internet; in fact, she was searching it nearly every day. She needed to - but struggled to - understand it, understand how her beloved Belle's brain worked, understand how her own mind was starting to work.

Watching Belle swell up before her own eyes, slightly fatter every day, shouldn't fascinate her as much as it did. Every pound of lard that she devoured onto her former near-skeletal frame made her slower, thicker, heavier, less graceful… in contrast, it made Roxana feel stronger, more powerful, more dominant, more in charge. But there was something more, something else happening in the corner of the fitness trainer's brain as she ogled the blonde beauty's inches of padding, her sinking belly button, her expanding thighs and butt, her rounding face. Watching the organ that for so many years had been so insignificant for her, merely an unattractive vessel that provided her energy to grow her muscles and complete her rigorous exercises, grow full and round with all the incredibly unhealthy food that Roxana herself was forcing into her girlfriend's mouth. Looking then the next morning, seeing that although that belly had shrunk, the calories she was responsible for filling into her had instead made her softer, wider, just a little bit more helpless…

“Damn it, Rox, stop it!” She exclaimed out loud to the empty room, squirming slightly at the unwelcome feelings down below, “You're doing this for Belle… not for yourself.” The words sounded hollow, not at all convincing, not even to herself. She focused back on the screen, sighing in exasperation as she found nothing more of use—the same websites that were always there with vague definitions, a few news articles interviewing various people who gained hundreds of pounds to satisfy their partner. Mostly women, but a few men as well. The comments were negative, of course, calling it disgusting, a strain on the NHS, and various other insults.  As she scrolled down to the bottom of one article interviewing a woman who was fattened by her husband from a healthy 135 pounds to a 630-pound barely mobile whale - the before and after pictures were astonishing, and a touch of fear plagued her heart as she tried to imagine Belle at that weight. Surely she would stop the madness long before that, and hopefully she would stop when she reached the already obese two hundred. Surely. Hopefully.

What would it be like having a helpless ball of rolls of fat, so gluttonous and heavy that she can't even stand? Relying on Roxana for everything? All that mass to be Roxana’s to squeeze, dominate… feed. Only a slight fantasy, the image of Belle at that size was not at all attractive in her mind, and that was a full truth. But her girlfriend being so helpless as a result of her own greed and laziness… that was intriguing.

Roxana was about to close off the article, a twist of disgust and shame flooding her insides, before she paused on seeing a ‘suggested article’ beneath this one, an image of a raven-haired beauty smiling at the camera with the headline: “People pay me to get fat; its now my only job.” What?! There were some perverse people out there, but who in their right mind would pay a woman to put on weight?!

Soon, Roxana was skimming through the article in morbid fascination, staring at several ridiculous pictures of this formerly Hispanic slim beauty performing seductive poses with donuts, pizza, chocolate covering her bloated belly, fatter and fatter… they quoted various comments from weird individuals with drooling emojis, heart-eyes, praises of her sexy curves. Hell, some of these freaks were asking for this woman to eat them! This was getting too much now, and Roxana felt a protective impulse to message Belle immediately to warn her of this dark side of the Internet. God forbid any of these weirdos discovered her social media or bumped into her now that she was on the heavy side, and tried encouraging this nonsense.

One last comment caught her eye: “Definitely the sexiest model on Curvebook! 😍🔥”

Curvebook?! What the actual hell is Curvebook?

A few clicks later, and Roxana was presented with this website: a cartoonish logo of a fat woman (well, a silhouette) sitting, large thighs spread out and her obese cartoon belly sitting between her legs. Already shaking her head, she briefly scrolled down the page, seeing various forum categories for all things ‘fat’ and gross. Oh God, morphs? Celebrities? STORIES?! What pervert wrote stories about overweight women?! What a disgusting idea!

Holy crap, there were sixty-eight of these freaks online right now! That was more people than Roxana expected to be registered on this weird website, let alone online at one time… horror and curiosity fuelled her to continue, browsing the various forums. The stories forum was first; a story literally called ‘The Fattening Harem’ was the first result by some guy with just emoticons as his (assumingly a he) username. What?! Clicking back out, she next went to what seemed to be the main ‘go-to’ of this strange site, where the women of Curvebook posted photos of their fattened selves for their audience's deluded pleasure. Roxana grimaced, recognising she needed to stop these thoughts; she no longer thought these things about Belle, and each of these girls were other ‘Belles’. She felt slightly ashamed that she had allowed her judgements to provide such cruel thoughts. Roxana was better than that; she needed to be.

Clicking into a few threads, it astounded Roxana how many of these girls were former personal trainers, models, marathon runners. Then, clicking onto the latest page (some of these topics had hundreds of pages), seeing these once-trim girls with ginormous round bellies covered in stretch marks, almost unrecognisable. It was fascinating and also quite daunting. The sheer quantity of comments, reactions, general traffic… Roxana allowed a small smile to appear on her face, for it made Belle seem a little more… normal. Roxana had always known this fetish existed, of course; she had even brought it up all the way back when Belle first challenged her on her admittedly toxic views. But never had she realised just how big (pun not intended) this… community actually was. Some of these girls’ videos sold for around £10, with hundreds of purchases - easily enough to survive on.

She clicked off a thread belonging to a girl who had the most insane stretch marks she'd ever seen. The girl wasn't even that big, but her belly, legs, everything was covered in those dark scars.

One more thread, and Roxana would force herself out of this crazy rabbit hole she'd descended into. She felt strange, a little uncomfortable, in fact; overwhelmed seemed like a fitting word. Bracing herself, she scrolled down one more thread. The topic wasn't anything fascinating, not like some of the others that boasted hundreds of pounds gained, just a simple and quite amateurish ‘Hi! I'm new here; come watch me grow… 🥰’. She was tempted to skip it, the topic below looked much more interesting, but oddly, this topic had dozens of pages of posts; this fatty must be popular. But still, the next poster boasted three hundred pounds gained! She shivered at the thought of what she’d find in that thread, but she knew it would be a more interesting read, and so she started to scroll down – until she threw a glance to the poster of this topic she was skipping, her heart stopping.

Baby_Belle01.

***

A few hours earlier…

“Oh my God.”

My eyes snapped open with a flinch at Roxana's voice of disbelief, wondering what possibly could be astounding her now of all times. I groaned in frustration, wiggling my legs in my attempt at a tantrum, feeling their softness thump against Roxana’s firm torso. “What?!” I snapped, perhaps a little too aggressively, as Roxana gave me a stern glare. I bit my lip, face flushed, averting my gaze as I meekly tried again, “I mean… what's up?”

“You've gotten so fat; you've got stretch marks!” She exclaimed in disbelief, grabbing the roll of my lower belly and pushing it up towards my chest, giving me a view of all the fat I'd been accumulating bunched together into multiple rolls, sticking out impossibly high from my lying down vantage point as she forced it out of the way, “Hell, Baby Belle, I know you've been really going for it the last few weeks; it looks like this fat gut of yours is struggling to keep up!” Although she was teasing me about it, I could see the disbelief on my girlfriend's face, as well as some concern, as she stopped the… much more enjoyable activity she had been doing and instead stared transfixed at the protrusion of my lower belly, the sphere of fat that not too long ago hadn't existed.

“What?!” My heart did a somersault as I threw myself up, my belly bumping against Roxana’s face as I tried to get a view of what she was staring at so intently. Roxana retreated, using her hands to stretch the skin of the roll of my lower belly, firmly holding in place the culprit that had shocked her so, tilting it up so I could see it. As she had stated, two faint, jagged lines tore my skin from just above my groin to the soft flesh where my tummy protruded most. I scrambled to get up, my thrashing legs kicking the sheets away from me, also sending Roxana to take cover to escape my flailing limbs.

“Oh my god!” I exclaimed, my voice a mixture of shock, excitement, and something else, as I rushed to the standing mirror. I sucked in a sharp breath as I laid eyes on my soft, fluffy body, fluffier by the day – especially lately.  My eyes were immediately drawn to the two faint, reddish-purple streaks that now adorned the side of my protruding midsection. The marks, each a jagged lightning bolt of discoloured flesh, tore across the lower curves of my distended stomach, still churning away at the large lunch I’d just devoured.

As I’d observed lying down, they emanated from a few inches above my groin (although with the way my tummy now hanged, they looked frighteningly closer. I wondered what my belly would look like if she was fat enough to hang and obscure my private area?). From there, the marks slashed diagonally upwards, trailing along the profound outward projection of my lower abdomen before fading into the slight inward indent of the roll where my navel sat, separating the bottom half of my tummy from the top half. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t have a double belly or anything, but there was a slight dip in the middle, especially when I was bloated.

My fingers trembled as I lightly traced the raised, ridged textures of the marks, exploring their unexpected terrain with a sense of wonder. I had expected this eventuality, of course – my body was changing at such a rapid pace, my skin would clearly struggle to keep up with the relentless expansion. Still, seeing the physical evidence of my continuous growth—these badges of my gluttony emblazoned upon my overtaxed flesh—sparked a thrill unlike anything I’d experienced before.

It was dulled, however, as if something blocked that thrill before it tremored through me, even as the pangs of my near orgasm from Roxana’s tongue still pulsed, cruelly cut short before it could climax.  Resentment twisted inside me as my digesting belly let out a long, loud groan, reminding me of the sound of somebody scraping a chair across a hard floor. Once again, Autumn’s vicious ploy held me back from celebrating something I had been morbidly desperate to happen – it didn’t feel the same—that my frantic stuffings and consuming everything I could get my hands on were to save my relationship and myself rather than the pleasure and confidence it provided me before. The fact I was now eating myself out of my own skin was a result of meeting Autumn’s demands, not just from pure gluttony and the power I had discovered over my own body.

I wanted the marks gone. I wanted to grow them on my own terms, not on anybody else’s.

Slowly, I turned to better examine my side profile, marvelling at the profound curve that now dominated my midsection. My once flat, toned stomach had given way to an expanse of soft, pliable fat that bulged outward in a sphere. My lower belly, where those marks now stood out amongst my otherwise smooth, soft body, was too heavy to support itself now, gravity pulling the chub downwards in what was the start of a belly hang, the base of my gut about level with the top of my panties – well, when I was wearing any.

I turned to the other side, and it was then that I noticed, with a frown, a matching pair of marks on the other side of my belly too.  They were nearly identical, perhaps slightly less jagged; the mark on the front – closest to my navel – looked a bit darker, more opaque.  I returned to view my front profile, swallowing uncertainly, pressing my hand into the centre of my belly where my belly button was, and pushing in. The fat gave way, the hand sinking into the flesh before halted (quickly) by the contents that was a mix of a large fried breakfast and a lunch big enough to probably feed a family.  But the action caused the rest of my flesh to stretch inward, further highlighting both sets of stretch marks and pulling them slightly to make them appear more vibrant, more deep, more there.

I removed my hand, watching my gut jut forward again, the base of my tummy jiggling slightly as she settled at my pantyline again, the wobbles of flesh contently settling to stay proudly protruding and hanging once more. My blue eyes were just fixed on those four marks, undisguised evidence of the now ninety pounds of junk food, sweets, cake, chocolate, and alcohol I’d constantly stuffed into me over the last half-a-year. All of it devoured, digested, and returned to me in inches of sexy fat.  The last twenty pounds since Autumn’s ultimatum, however, felt different. Wrong.

Twenty pounds of fat hung from my body as if they were simply on loan to me, as if they belonged to Autumn rather than to me.  They clung to me like a parasite, stretching and tearing my lovely skin. Eventually, I knew, the fat Autumn demanded of me would outgrow my own, swallowing me up and turning me into nothing more than a pig for the chef, my former friend’s, pleasure.  I needed a way out of this. I thought knowing I had no choice but to fatten up would be hot and enjoyable. I thought it would remove the thoughts constantly at the back of my mind telling me what I was doing was stupid and that I was ruining my body. I thought being able to justify my own gluttony would be a silver lining for this totally fucked-up situation.

No, it was ruining everything. I couldn’t just get rid of these twenty blackmail pounds and then put them back on again on my own terms, as if all that fat would be different if I ate it in another situation. Nearly a quarter of my overall gain was tarnished, and I hadn’t even met the goal yet. We were in December now, and I was still ten pounds away, with just under three weeks. Even if I met it, I had a horrible feeling that upon proving it to the red-head, she would just give me some half-hearted praise and set the next goal – a goal probably even more drastic, with shorter time.

Repeat, repeat, repeat, until I was a five-hundred-pound whale that could barely move, who lived only to get fatter. All because I was a slut and kept on trying to take everything I thought I deserved, with no regard to the consequences. I was lying to the love of my life; I was working for a psychopath, and I was back to square one, having my diet and body dictated to me – just in a different way. Not a way that was really any better.

Roxana appeared behind my glum reflection, her darker skin looking beautiful and divine against my soft, plump own. Her sharp, defined chin rested on my shoulder, nestling into the soft flesh that once showed my collarbone and shoulderblade. I watched her well-manicured hands settle on my love handles, thick fat that now fully hung over all waistbands when I was dressed, the roll of flesh fitting perfectly in her hands without her having to stretch her fingers.

Her hands didn’t stay for long, now sliding forward. I could feel her firm, toned stomach and generous boobs press into my back, and I swallowed, knowing that she was now having to slightly stretch her arms to even reach around me. Despite my mood, I felt another pulse of sexual tension.  Her hands drifted across my bloated belly, eventually cresting the hill and settling on my lower belly, each hand covering the new scars that had taken residence there. The index finger of her left hand dared further, sinking into my navel, resting there as the tempting cavern swallowed the top ** of her finger as if it was a delicious snack.

I felt her warm breath on my shoulder and neck as she whispered, “Do you like what you see, my plump princess…?” her right hand began to gently squeeze my fat belly, and I watched the skin, as full and bloated as I was, give way to her exploring fingers, moulding and shifting to her touch, the effects of her touch rippling across my entire torso in a chain reaction of wobbling fat. Looking in the mirror now, both of us fully naked, I had genuinely never seen an image so sexy.

There was me, rounded and free like some goddess of fertility, bloated and swollen as if I was actually pregnant. My inflated boobs were proudly on display, my hips wide and feminine, my thighs soft and touching – no thigh gap to speak of anymore.  My blonde hair was tousled, curling wildly before falling onto my right shoulder (the one Roxana wasn’t nestled into), and without sounding too big-headed, I looked… divine.

Then there was Roxana, her pretty face starting lustfully into the mirror at our reflections, her jaw dangerously close to my skin as if she was about to sink her fangs into my flesh. Although my wider body covered most of her, the tantalising flesh of her hips snuck out from my side, her left leg gently wrapped over my own as she held me in her embrace. Just underneath my armpit, I could just see the side of one of her bare, naturally generous boobs, frustratingly hidden away from my gaze. Although my boobs now absolutely dwarved hers, I know that I was cheating, in a way, as the only reason for that was gluttony and inches of fat.

“You… know it.” I breathed back dishonestly, finally answering her question, “I can’t believe it… that makes it feel so real.”

“It is real.” Roxana replied, nibbling the coating of skin that separated my neck from my shoulder, “You’ve passed a point of no return; now, you’ve scarred yourself with your gluttony—a permanent reminder of your overindulgence.”  Her left hand began to slip down now, cresting over the thickest point of my tummy, where it was softest.   Her longest fingers reached until they pressed into my groin (what was quickly turning into a FUPA), whilst her thumb stretched back to my navel.  She then squeezed, grabbing the biggest chunk of my belly available, shaking it gently, “Your belly is so heavy, Squish-a-Belle… so perfectly round, soft, bloated. You just can’t help yourself, can you, my pretty pig?”

I felt like I was dissolving into her touch. I wanted to close my eyes and succumb to the arousal of her words and actions, but I couldn’t keep my eyes from my own body in the reflection. I watched the small rolls of fat on my sides ripple and jiggle as Roxana shook my gut. I felt my breath rate quicken, my inflated cheeks starting to redden as my blood flow increased, “No… I can’t… I need to be full… all the time.” I breathed, pushing my feelings of resentment aside, pretending they didn’t exist.

As Roxana’s left hand continued squeezing and shaking my round stomach, her right hand now descended as well, although it continued lower than its companion, easily finding what her tongue had started earlier. I gasped as she discovered her target, needing no encouragement as I was already more than ready. I released a soft moan, reaching my chubby arm behind me to hold the back of Roxana’s head as I arched my neck back to meet her lips in a lustful kiss.  “So big…” Roxana praised between kisses, establishing a teasing and tantalising rhythm of shaking my belly and pleasuring me; the combination worked perfectly, knowing exactly what I liked.

“There is almost as much fat making up your body as there was original Belle…” She whispered, her left hand now rubbing in large circles across my middle, gently pressing in where possible. My belly gurgled happily as the pressure eased her digestion; it felt so good. “You used to be so tiny, so dainty… able to slip through the smallest of gaps, able to run a mile in less than five minutes… What was your last time when we went last week? Remind me, fatty…”

I moaned again at the derogatory insult, my chubby legs trembling slightly, wanting to just fall to the floor and let my girlfriend ravish me, “…Eight minutes…”

“Hmm, I seem to remember it being closer to nine.” Roxana replied in disagreement, hefting my belly up with her one hand, as high as it would reach. I stifled a burp as she forced the air out of me before she dropped the heavy ball, and I felt the dozens of pounds of fat and the heavy load of her contents bounce down roughly, causing me to wince in pleasure, “So much fat weighing you down… slowing you down… helplessly jiggling and rolling about as you try and get your chubby legs to move…”

“Ugh, Rox…” I moaned, kissing her again even as my arm, thicker now with fat as week by week, the muscle that had been close to giving me visible biceps melted away, “Keep going…”

“What will your family think, hm?” Roxana purred, the question causing my eyes to widen in alarm, still helpless to her every word and action, “Two weeks today, we go… last time they saw you, there was nothing of you… imagine their faces as you walk in, tightly packed into that oversized sweater your nan bought you last Christmas, a slither of your fat belly poking out at the bottom…” I leaned my head back into her shoulder now as Roxana’s left hand raised from my stomach to now grab my round boob, heavy and swollen from the months of overindulgence I’d put myself through, “Questions of whether you’re pregnant… the initial thoughts will be that we brought a fat friend to Christmas; they’ll look behind us to see where their gorgeous, fit daughter, granddaughter, sister is, and what’s taking her so long? Only to slowly realise, one at a time, that Belle Fletcher… their flesh and blood…”

I moaned, knowing I was so close, my hand digging into the back of Roxana’s neck, “Say it…”

“…Got fat.” Roxana finished, as I finished in my own way. Roxana kissed me fiercely before the noises could escape my lips, pleasure racking my body.  Before I knew what was happening, I felt the softness of the bed beneath me and the firm weight of Roxana over my legs, and then between them. “They’ll ask what happened… they’ll ask if you’re sick, if you’ve been to the doctor… they won’t say it, but they’ll question what the hell you’ve been eating; they’ll wonder if you’re aware of how much weight you’ve put on… they’ll observe how much you eat, noticing as you help yourself to Christmas Dinner that your plate piles up three times higher than it did last year… they’ll start gently suggesting gym memberships, new diet fads… they’ll ask me in private if you’re okay, and I’ll just tell them I’ve tried so hard to stop you, to pull the donuts and treats from your gluttonous mouth… but I just can’t stop you from constantly gorging yourself full of calories…”

I clutched desperately at the sheets, unable to even speak or respond, as the thrills of Roxana’s pleasuring me and the words she spoke continued to send me wild.

“And as they shake their disapproving heads, watching your fat ass waddle up the steps you used to fly up when you were young and skinny…” Roxana continued in her seductive drawl, “They’ll go to bed, solemnly wondering what happened to their baby girl. And as they sleep, dreaming up ways to ‘help’ you get back down to the perfect lady you used to be… I’ll be stuffing you fuller with more food and treats. You’ll be unable to complain, as any noise you make will wake them… and when they come to investigate, all they’ll see is you surrounded by food, messy and bloated, and I will shrug helplessly and tell them I tried to stop you.”

“They… won’t believe you…” I gasped, picturing every scene in my head vividly.

“Of course they will.” Roxana replied innocently, smirking up at me over the crescent of my belly, “Who would ever believe that passionate fitness freak Roxana Milsom would be fattening up her girlfriend?  You’ll get to your family home at a huge, fat two hundred pounds at least. And whilst they will try and encourage family walks, maybe even going to the gym together, advising against seconds and definitely not thirds, hoping desperately you’ll at least lose a few pounds over the break… little do they know, I’ll be making sure you leave fatter than ever, stuffed more than the turkey on Christmas Day.”

“Yes… please…” I couldn’t help but moan.

“Don’t worry, Squish-a-Belle,” Roxana’s hand moved up to trace my stretch marks again, the skin rough beneath her finger, “You developed these marks pretty well on your own; your tummy won’t be able to handle me.”

***

What the fuck?!

It must be a coincidence, somebody else who happened to share Roxana’s pet name for Belle. Who also happened to be into gaining weight, who also happened to be born in 2001.  Roxana already knew who she’d see when she desperately opened the thread, and she wasn’t wrong. Immediately, her eyes snapped to the profile picture under the username as the first post appeared – there she was, her girlfriend’s charming face and blue eyes stared back at her.

Roxana couldn’t believe what she was seeing – why didn’t she know about this?  How could sweet, innocent Belle be sharing her body with the world?  Maybe… maybe it was just a discussion thread, posted in the wrong section on this website. Or maybe it would just be face-to-face selfies. Or maybe, maybe Roxana could accept and handle full-bodied shots in clothes, just documenting her weight gain to all the creeps she’d already seen commenting on the other girls on this site.

Her eagle eyes skimmed her first post, introducing herself.  Roxana swallowed slightly as she read: “…always felt like I’ve had no control over my body. Never been able to eat what I want, always panicking about putting on even a pound in fear of what people might think…” a new pang of fear flooded Roxana—more than the thought of Belle becoming a fat porn star. What if she was also telling the world about all the awful things Roxana used to do? She hadn’t meant to control Belle; she didn’t realise she was. She felt terrible that it had ever felt that way, that she had made Belle lose all of her self-confidence, that she had forced her to be underweight because she was jealous. But that didn’t give Belle justification to tell the world about it.

She was over-reacting. Everybody needed an outlet, and Belle had spent so much time eating lately that she hadn’t really spent much time with anyone. And unless Belle named her, nobody would know who she was talking about anyway.  Roxana quickly scrolled down, seeing that Belle had posted some 'start’ photos in the next post down. There was a photo of her in a mustard yellow top, one that definitely didn’t fit her anymore. She was sitting on their bed, wearing her best make-up, with a charming smile on her face, and waving to the camera. The second photo was one Roxana had taken of her a few months before this whole weight gain thing started – she was standing in the gym, drink bottle in hand, mid-laugh. Belle had hated the photo, but Roxana had found it adorable – no filters, no make-up, glistening with sweat after exercise, and looking her thinnest. Roxana paused, frowning slightly at her own brain. Why had it defaulted to ‘thinnest’ rather than best, which felt like the more natural word to use?

She let out the breath she had been holding, slightly relieved – a lot of these other girls had posted bikini pictures and even pictures covering their breasts with their hands from the off. She knew Belle wouldn’t do something like that. She scrolled down the comments, reading each one word-for-word, her heart tightening as she watched these perverts compliment her girlfriend. ‘Beautiful’, ‘sexy’, some of them telling her how hot she’d look if she gained two hundred pounds. Some asked questions about her life, what made her want to gain weight, asked if she was single.

Roxana felt sick until she scrolled down to the next post by Belle herself:

“Aww, thanks so much for all the love!! It’s great to meet all of you. I definitely want to answer all of your questions, and I thought I’d do that as a video!! I hope you guys like it. Please let me know any feedback and anything you’d wish to see from me going forward!! This will be a hell of a journey!”

And then there were a couple of videos, taking Roxana’s breath away – not in the good way.  The thumbnail of the first clip was a collage of four frames, which must appear in this video. The first was the picture Belle had put of her waving in the first post, which Roxana realised must’ve been a still from this video. The second was another capture of just her face, seeming to be talking.  The other two, however, were of Belle standing – the curve of her small belly highlighted—and the final one, her butt, looking tight in her jeans.  Not great, but at least her clothes were on. The other video, however, made Roxana’s blood run cold. There was Belle’s butt, wearing lacey underwear and angled to make it look even bigger than it had whenever this video (titled ‘Starting Body Tour!’) was taken. And the second one showed her bare torso, wearing underwear, thank god, but still teasing her boobs and her slightly softened tummy.  She glanced at the date, seeing this was at the end of August… a whole three months, over, and Roxana had no clue?!  If Belle was willing to put a picture of her damn ass out to the whole wide world on her second post, what was Roxana going to discover on page bloody 76?!  Fully naked? Pleasuring herself?

She didn’t want to continue. She wanted to shut the website and go cry in their bed. Part of her wanted to just pack her bags and go, but she couldn’t. She loved Belle so much – more than anything.  Did she really not know this girl? For years, she had no clue (or at least, strongly denied knowing) about Belle’s… fetish, that she was miserable and controlled.  Now she found out this was hidden as well – holy fuck, HOW many people had purchased this body tour video?! £6.99?! It had reactions of several heart-eye emojis, hearts, flame emojis… where was this money going?  Roxana’s eyes next snapped to a list of ‘other clips by this user’, each thumbnail sending her heart further down and down until it felt like it had dropped into her stomach.  Stuffings, belly play, weigh-in and measurements – holy crap, one of these stuffing videos was even taken at her work, clearly in a restaurant kitchen!  How the hell did she get away with stuffing herself there?! Didn’t her boss, whoever he was, keep track of inventory?

Roxana was already registering for this site before she could think about it any further. With a wonderful username of ‘IDontFingCare’, she went on a spree of adding every single video to her ‘shopping basket’. Twelve videos later, and Roxana was paying her fat apparent porn star girlfriend a grand total of £90.  Immediately, she downloaded the first ‘introduction video’, her nails clenching into the cheap wood of their computer desk. Watching the download bar slowly fill up was agonising. She had a gut feeling that this unintentional stumble was going to change things forever.

Maybe she should stop that train.

Download Complete!

 

Too late.

“This is Baby_Belle01,” There she was, albeit with a less plump face. Roxana raised her eyebrows; the difference in her face between now and then hit quite hard, “My name is Belle, obviously. I’m twenty-two years-old, and I work as a chef, which is never a bad profession for somebody on this website I guess, haha!  I only found out about CurveBook, and this entire community earlier today, and straight away I knew I needed to join. I want my first video to just be an introduction to who I am, and I genuinely can’t wait to get to know some of you and make some friends here, so please leave a review if you watch this! I want to know your name, where you come from, your hobbies… anything!”

She chatted a bit, talking about her history and, notably, avoiding mentioning the real reasons for her weight loss and strict diet. Roxana felt a lump in her throat; she appreciated that at least. But… this was weird. It took years for her to ever tell Roxana about how she felt about it; hell, most things Roxana had just confessed herself – it wasn’t even Belle who brought the issues up. Yet here she was, telling countless people who she had never met, things so… personal?

“…I waddled home in literal pain and collapsed in bed, only for my girlfriend to –“ Oh, shit. Roxana bolted upright, eyes widening as she hung onto every word, heart hammering, “Oh, I have a girlfriend, by the way, who is a fitness fanatic; she’s got a literal six-pack, so that’s gonna be a fun contrast in the future, huh? Anyway, she got home and caught me literally stuffed in bed and was, understandably, all ‘what the hell happened to you?! I wonder what she first thought; after all, she hadn’t seen me eat more than a salad for four years haha! I think she thought there was something medically wrong going on.”

Roxana’s ears absorbed every word, listening intently, frozen on the edge of her seat. She listened to her talk about her stuffings, mentioning her ‘girlfriend’ and her support, the beach, what she found hot. And then she was standing up, showing off her body with a happy expression. Then she was saying goodbye and biting into a bar of chocolate, followed by a short animation of a baby bell unpeeling to then show her username.

Roxana slumped back in the seat, her mind struggling to process what was happening. Is this what it felt like to discover an affair?! What a ridiculous thought! Belle wasn’t having an affair; she was just trying to find herself and sharing that journey. That’s what Roxana wanted to think, anyway, but how could she, knowing what other videos lay in wait?

Slowly, reluctantly, she moved to download the body tour video, eyes fixed on the sexy curves of her girlfriend’s butt, that thumbnail available to all eyes without even purchasing. So many people had purchased the video, but a hell of a lot more had laid their disgusting eyes on the girl she loved.

She felt sick. But she soldiered on, her girlfriend appearing with a wide smile again, this time in noticeably less clothing.

“Hey guys!! Baby_Belle01 here… thanks SO much for all the love and support you showed after my introduction. I honestly can’t believe it…”

 A/N: Not usual for this story to have any POVs that aren't Belle, but it felt suitable here!  One of Belle's secrets has been discovered... can Detective Roxana figure out the rest, though? Will perhaps the smallest of Belle's dark secrets lead to the unraveling of everything?! Find out next time! /dramaticannouncervoice