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Hello everyone!! Sorry for the radio silence, it’s been super hectic lately! Nothing to worry about though, because the gaining is going just swimmingly. I’m SO looking forward to sharing my results with you! I decided to take the advice I got on the previous page and try on the cheetah print slip thing, just for comparisons sake. The old photo of myself in it showed me very round/rotund/globular, but this time, gosh... looking at the photo I feel legitimately fat. Like even my arms are pillowy now! I’m really excited by all of this. While I’m still fully aware that I’m small, and there’s a lot of gaining to be done before I hit BBW territory, I’m just... really happy. I love this. And while I’m not ready to reveal weight gained or measurements increased until the end of the month, I did do a halfway point check in yesterday, and DANG. The results did not disappoint.

Damn Ally, you've really fattened up your boobs, arms, and legs. While your belly is less bloated than last time, you look soooo much bigger, softer, and fatter.

📸📸

Wow. She really has gotten fat!

Is it hungry in here or is it just me?

I'm still going to try this someday 😈 Chapter Thirty-Three Training for the weight-lifting competition began in earnest. Now that Candace was on board as well, our training sessions changed forever. She was no longer teaching me how to use the equipment; I already knew how to use them. She was no longer watching me do them; I knew how to push myself. Instead, we trained together, switching places between each set to push ourselves to the minute. Candace still planned what sets and machines we would use, but even that was slightly different. After some research into the competition, she knew exactly what we needed to be good at: deadlifts, squats, bench-pressing, and everything similar. After a few days, I noticed my appetite was even higher than it already was, constantly craving rich food and daydreaming about lunch and dinner. Once I started paying attention, I noticed that the hunger started growing about half an hour after doing squats or deadlifts. This satisfied me two-fold, because it would make it easier to hit two-hundred pounds and – more importantly – I knew that Candace was at least as hungry as I was. We laughed between sets, swapping ideas for what to eat at lunch, what to cook at home (Candace was attempting to teach me how to cook), and toying with the idea of eating what I called “Hobbit meals” in between each meal (this idea manifested itself as supplementing our water with weight gain shakes, whey protein, keratin, and some weird thing called “BCAA”). Week by week, Candace nervously pushed herself to the limit when it came to eating. Knowing that she had to break the two-hundred pound threshold helped give her the drive to do so, but even so, she constantly seemed on-edge in the gym, glancing at others around her as she did her best to take my bully advice to heart. I could tell that her soft midriff rolling slightly over her yoga pants bothered her as she compulsively tugged at it between sets, and I could also tell that I wasn’t the only dude becoming entranced by her monster-sized boobs squeezed into a sports bra or her rounded rear and plush thighs trying to rebel against her yoga pants. It was actually other girls that seemed to judge her the most, if the expressions I was seeing meant anything. That figured. Fortunately, it helped me comfort Candace at home as I reminded her how men tended to prefer bigger girls. Candace, bless her heart, seemed to be on board with growing pretty much any part of her body except one: her midriff. Now that we were eating upwards of 5,000 calories a day, her belly was finally starting to grow in earnest. With our constant binging, her belly was constantly rounded and smooth. As days passed, it teased me with its resting against her shirts, just barely prevented from peeking-out, but always just a little closer each time I saw it. It was like watching a strip-tease in slow motion, and began arousing me even more than her ass did. Not that I wasn’t enthralled with her bulbous, ever-growing ass. Thank the Lord we knew each other so well, because I never ran out of things to do with it. She tended to recline on the sofa as she planned our wedding, and it became some kind of custom for me to rest my head on it as she asked me the addresses of all my friends and relations. I also started rubbing her butt before each morning “for good luck,” which she seemed to find funny. If I walked behind her and held her waist, I always wondered if I could get away with fondling her ripening belly before chickening-out and grabbing her butt instead. Of course, there was always the massages as well. Candace had her share of kinky-tricks as well. Now that I was really getting buff, she enjoyed lifting me in the air at random moments, hugging me from behind, and stroking her hands across my solid chest. I had to be careful when she got drunk because she got feisty and would start wrestling me at random times, which she always won, always saddled herself atop my hips, and almost always lusted for sex shortly afterward – passionate, dangerous sex that had already resulted in three spilled beers and a shattered wine glass. Afterwards, she would wearily wrap her arms around me and nestle her head under mine, idly rubbing my arms and shoulders before falling asleep. It was, once again, the best time of my life, and each day was a little better than the last. If only I could get her to love her growing belly as much as I did. If only I could rub and fondle it to my heart’s content like that one day so long ago… ah well. Surely I would find a way. I only had to wait for the ideal moment – a casual remark, a moment of curiosity, something… What was the ideal belly shape? This was the question I was asking myself one Friday night as Candace and I arrived home, sweaty and tired from leg day. Indeed, there were many types of round bellies, but what was the most perfect? Tanned and smooth, these were surely factors. What of rolls? They were merely artificial manifestations, begotten by tight jeans and constricting panties. A free belly was best. But what of its curving shape? Should the upper belly be bigger or the lower? The stomach rested atop the intestines above the navel, so a big upper belly meant a well-fed woman. But a fat lower belly, well, that was the plumpest layer of fat, the rallying-point of a woman’s growth. It was there that a history of indulgence could be spotted, the place where growth could be attested to. I stared at Candace’s belly as she pulled her shirt off. Yes indeed, the skin below her belly-button was the part that stuck forwards the most now. Truly, this was the ideal shape of a growing belly. But then again, I forgot to consider pregnant bellies… “What are you looking at?” Candace frowned at me in her sports bra and yoga pants. “Oh, uh…” I could feel myself blushing. Oh great, now she was folding her arms in front of her self-consciously. “You’re pretty hot. More than usual, I mean.” She rolled her eyes. “Thank God I met you Cody. I don’t think I’d ever have been brave enough to go this far on my own…” “Girl, you are beautiful,” I wrapped myself around her from behind and gave her salty head a kiss. “Even if you are dirty. I like how the sweat makes you shine in the sunlight.” She smiled, rubbing my firm forearms. “Shiny is good and all, but let’s stick to wax, alright?” “That was a really good night when we had the wax,” I smiled at that, rubbing her sides lovingly. Then I had an idea. “Hang on! I know something we could do that’s even better than wax!” “Mm?” “Let’s shower – together!” “You sure about that?” “Let’s do it! I have no idea why we haven’t tried it yet!” “Because there’s… hm…” “Come on, let’s go!” “Oh, fuck it. Let’s go love.” “Yes,” I gleefully pulled-off my tank-top and tossed it at Candace’s back as she began walking towards the bathroom. She gave me the eye and proceeded to pull free of her sports bra. Her smooth, supple back was irresistible to me, and I stroked my finger down her spine, admiring its softness. “You’re like a child,” she chuckled coyly as we reached the bathroom. “Want me to get the bubble shampoo?” “We have that?” I asked as I kicked off my shoes and reached for my socks. “Nope,” Candace turned her back to me, hands on the seams of her yoga pants. “I guess this is the only entertainment you’re going to get…” she bent low as she wriggled free of her yoga pants, seductively pushing her ass towards me. “We’re gonna need a lot of soap,” I laughed as I pulled myself out of my boxers. Candace stood up and huffed. “Cody. Manners. Flip the fan on, will you?” “Oh. Right,” I obliged as Candace stripped nude and walked up to the shower. I heard the water begin splashing as she leaned in, testing the heat of the water. Soon I was nude alongside her, brushing awkwardly against her thigh as I peered in. “This is the worst part,” I broke the silence. “The part where we wait for the hot water, I mean.” “What do you need to look inside for?” Candace asked, hand still under the flowing water. “The soap bar’s still in there, right?” I asked as I grabbed for her soft waist. “I got a few ideas for how to scrub you clean…” “Ew. Gross. Cody, that is your soap bar and I never touch it. It has little hairs on it.” “My dick has little hairs on it,” I noted truthfully. “Exactly! Ew. I’m man-scaping you after this.” “Like, a bikini-wax? I don’t want anything besides my hair ripping out.” “No silly! Just a shave. It’ll look very handsome.” “Well, okay. As long as we use a different razor for it. Don’t want to mix them up.” “Trust me, Cody. I’m a professional. Well? You ready? Come on in.” The shower was situated in a small box not more than a square meter in size. Even so, I found out very quickly that we could not both fit under the cascading water, which meant that one of us would, in a sense, be out in the cold at any given time. It wasn’t the only problem either. “Candace? Could you make the water a little hotter? It’s kind of cold.” “What do you mean it’s too cold? I thought it was the girls who always say the water’s too cold.” “I bathe in the hot spas of hell,” I replied. “Whatever. Be a studmuffin and get that body wash, alright?” she adjusted the temperature by a couple millimetres to make a marginal improvement to my predicament. “Yours or mine?” I asked, eyeing the dozen or so shampoos, conditioners, lotions, body wash, and one soap bar. “Mine, of course.” I plucked a tan-coloured bottle and turned to face her. She looked at me expectantly, waiting with her hand out by my side. Mischievously, I popped-open the bottle and squeezed its contents over her volleyball-sized boobs. “Of course you did,” Candace muttered, stepping back a few inches. “I do my best,” I grinned. “Well whatever,” she began rubbing her tits with her hands, lathering them up. For a moment, I was awe-struck at the sight of them swaying against each other as soap bubbled and dripped down over her belly. “Cody… wash my back, will you?” “Sure,” I squeezed more body wash over her shoulders as she turned her back to me. “I’m pretty good at rubbing, you know.” “It’s what you’re best at,” she lifted her head and rubbed it against the downpour of water. “You could say I have a passion for it,” I parted her mane of wet, black hair over her shoulders and set to work. “Oh?” Candace tilted her head to the side, rubbing her neck. “You could say it, but I already know.” “Sorry,” I bent my hips away from hers. “What? I’m not afraid.” “Well, there’s a time and place for everything…” “True. Just rub me clean and we’ll see about what happens next.” It happened again. I had an idea. What if I could position Candace at the perfect spot so that the showerhead was spraying directly onto her belly? The sensation of hot drops of water drumming against her would probably feel heavenly, like a massage from Mother Nature herself – wouldn’t it? Maybe she’d like the feeling and relax. Maybe that would lead to other thoughts? It was worth a try. As I finished washing her back, I held her waist and took a step back. If I could get her to stand just so, the water would be bouncing against her belly… “Oof!” my plan was thwarted. She misunderstood my intentions and slammed her butt against my pelvis. My ass cheeks made contact with the cold linoleum of the wall. “Candace! Cold!” “Am I too much for you to handle?” she asked coyly, rubbing up a few inches. “My dick! You’re bending my dick!” “Ohmigod,” She sprang upright. “Cody are you alright?” I slipped against the floor and she nearly fell atop me. Water sprayed against my face as I attempted to look up at her. “Cody!” she reached her hand out to help me up. When I was up again, she embraced me into a wet hug. “This was a bad idea,” I hugged her back. “A bad, dangerous, sexy idea.” “We can try a bath next time,” Candace proposed helpfully. “Not in our little tub. Maybe a hot spa somewhere… actually, no. We’d get caught.” “So, back to normal stuff?” she asked. “Yep. I mean, normal from our point of view.

Me 🙂

My beautiful girlfriend. She's 210lbs now considering going to 250lbs. Please tell her what you think, she's got the idea that's she's unattractive.

I am literally always hungry 🐷

Love how when the chicks start to get fatter they happen to replace their hard workout regimes with yoga and stretching because they still get to sit on the training mat and wear workout clothes but don't have to actually do any work 😁

My girlfriends ass. She wants to know what you think? She's 210lbs now considering going to 250lbs.

Fully rendered and corrected: for those of you who missed it enjoy!

Another before and after need to find more old pics.

Amazing fat ass pics from Bebe Rexha.

Is this it ?

I enjoy stuffing and weight gain shakes too much, the journey is fun and soooo tasty 🐷

Haven’t had a chance for a regular photo sesh (we’ve had some stressful weeks so it’s the last thing on the agenda) But here’s a small update, her rolly tummy is pretty much a gut these days

In the mean time, Mick's Foley baby girl is still a growing girl.

Wow! She's got a nice big ass!! Nice!!

Hi, So, broken post is now available, I invite you to return a little higher to discover it. Thanks to administrator maybejames ! But now, the journey continue ! 😃 Melinda and Maggie are the queens of the dance floor but now Melinda dress are a little bit longer, I wonder why. Curvy, sexy and elegant Melinda know better than Rita how to enhance herself Love this everyday outfit Another haircut, another boyfriend ? And another big ass... Melinda is now far from this thin girl she was before Busty girl With Alice and Maggie Did Rita and Melinda make weight transfer ? O_o Sport class She don't look so happy to go for a run with her new extra weight ! No way to be at the top of the pyramide Body inspection, looks a little bit worried Beach party with Maggie and Amandine Party Rita looks very confident here Melinda not so much Who want to play darts ?

Thanks a bunch for these great after pics. Swathi is an indian goddess and she has been getting more and more beautiful lately. Gorgeous all over: face, smile, eyes, body, belly... There is something really special about her... THIS IS A GREAT THREAD. 👍

Hello wonderful curvage family!!!… This weekend is gonna be really good, I will upload many pictures that I took at the beach and also a really good video is coming... 💋✨

just had to do one of these too. 😉

Feeling great

Love this video! It’s great seeing Maxey comfortable in her own skin! And have I mentioned she has gotten quite chubby ? Look at that beautiful midriff bulge !

Really enjoying the 10yearchallenge

It doesn’t look like she’s getting into shape at all, but seems okay with showing off her body. I approve!

As I am going through all the videos I filmed while I was pregnant. I realized how much and how often I ate chocolate glazed doughnuts...and then I think of all the times I ate them and didn’t film. That was for sure my biggest craving!

She was so thin before! What a gain

Hope this story is OK, it's very long now and I just hope I've not been wasting everyone's time by posting it A Free Hit - Season 2 Chapter 4 Wiktoria and Rutherford had sat down resolutely on one sofa, sternly scowling and with their plump arms folded like disapproving parents, and Minnie and Leona sat on the other, sheepishly evading eye contact. They were like school kids in detention, with a restless nervous energy that manifested in fidgeting and twitching, and guilty expressions that they were desperately trying suppress. However, unlike school kids, one of them here was a teacher. “So, do you want to tell us, Leona, why Minnie Charnwood, nee Skinny, was in your bed this morning?” Rutherford asked faux-formerly. “And I only ask because, oh I don’t know, because what the actual fuck Leona!” The outburst initially unnerved them, it was a stark reminder that this wasn't just naughty in an oopsy-daisy kinda way, this could have ramifications for careers and for educations. Leona looked at Minnie resignedly and decided to fess up. This wasn’t how she planned on the girls opposite her finding out. In fact, she hadn’t really planned on them finding out at all. In fact in fact, she hadn’t really planned on there being anything to find out. But you know what they say about the best laid plans, and getting laid was the main item for today's inquest, so Leona decided to come clean. “So, you remember the broken cubicle door at the Chinese buffet?” And then she regaled them how the then 145lb Renaissance-style beauty dressed up in her fanciest attire with her most expensive jewellery made out with her utterly plastered 171lb student with Kung Pao stains on her mouth in the Chinese buffet loos, and then how making out lead to a little more. How it lead to wandering hands and wondering tongues. How it lead to quiet repressed groans as they travelled to Nirvana for a short stay. How alcohol and lust can negatively impact on your judgement. Well, she told half of it anyway. She may have omitted some minor details. Here and there. One or two. Just minor stuff. Minor stuff like, for example, she missed out the line “Fuck me like I’m American” and also the line “Fuck me like I’m Rutherford” and now you mention it, she may have omitted the line “Fuck me and think of Rutherford” and even the line “Fuck me like I’m 200lbs of all-American girl” come to think of it. Like I said, some minor details, that Leona thought would probably be the diplomatic thing to gloss over. “What! Before Christmas!” Wiktoria gasped. “Oh yeah, you two can talk. If I hadn’t seen you two at it, you probably would never have told us either” Minnie chimed in on the offensive, causing Wiktoria to glare at her girlfriend who had, herself, tried to conceal their own relationship. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, that was before Christmas. If you hooked up then, why are you still hooking up now, mid-February? Is this a thing? Because that is a whole world of inappropriate if this is a thing...” Rutherford said, eager for more details. “No, you’re right.” Leona again admitted. “Then, the next thing I need to tell you about was that Christmas day, when Minnie, like from a John LeCarre novel, came in from the cold.” And again, she embarked on detailing the narrative of how the emotionally contented and well-balanced 155lb responsible adult of great academic standing and prowess ended up screwing the 180lb hot mess teenager-student in emotional turmoil. How, whilst in an intermission of Dorito gorging and finger-food feasting, they found time to eat and finger other things. Such as, for example, each other. Whilst wrapping their fingers around the crisps that Leona had brought in, they wrapped their fingers elsewhere. Such as, oh I don’t know, down each other. She told this story in brutal, clinical detail, one confession of guilt and shame coming after another like an unblocked drainpipe. She told it all. Well, not all of it exactly. Not every single iota of a teensy-weensy minute minutia. Did she, if we're being honest with one another, really need to include the bit where they did it to the rhythm of the other two’s sexual liaisons upstairs? Probably not, it wouldn’t be in good taste now, would it? Or include the fact that they each closed their eyes and dreamed of Rutherford Stones whilst they explored each other’s bodies? No, some things are best left unsaid. “Do you have any idea, Leona, how morally reprehensible, how utterly irresponsible, how goddamn motherfucking exploitative that is?” Rutherford raged, fuming at the thought of her friend being taken advantage of. “Hey, I fucked Leona. Not t'other way around. Don't pin this on her, she was just caught in my headlights. I fucked Leona. I took charge and had lovely lady sex with my lovely lady teacher. I did that. And I’m sure, Rutherford, you wouldn’t be surprised to know I can be quite persuasive when I want to be” Minnie again retorted, needling Rutherford who squirmed in her seat, relieved that the insinuation went over the blissfully oblivious Wiktoria’s head. “But, why are you having sex in February?” Wiktoria pressed, none the wiser as to what Minnie was referring to just then. “Well, I think we had got it all out of our system after that Christmas… fling. You were all so pre-occupied with studies, and I've been completely drowning at work, and we all just went about our separate ways. Back to normal. But then I kept worrying about Minnie...” Leona then turned to the emerald-eyed, raven-haired vixen beside her. “You seem so wild and self-destructive at times, and I just wanted to show some support during one of your wild binges.” “When was this?” Wiktoria asked, as if making notes. “It was about mid-January, your honour. Yeah, that must be about right I reckon, because we’d been back two weeks.” Minnie answered this one. She had been knee-deep in empty calorie detritus and stuffing herself silly, embarking on the mother of all blow-outs in her room. Again. She had been letting off steam by having a one-woman food party in her bedroom, and it was now coming towards its gastronomic denouement. Again. And she was doing it in her underwear, as if the image of this ravenousness didn’t set alarm bells off earlier. She needed to feel utterly, almost erotically, out of control and free-falling. And she was doing this when Leona knocked on the door and entered, presented with the unflattering image of 192lb girl eating herself naked. The quondam queen of lean was now gluttonous gif of greed made flesh. And the image would have made anyone’s heart melt like the butter that Minnie was excessively partial to. “So, I was, perhaps understandably, worried. And you two were nowhere to be seen, presumably… umm… engaging in intercourse yourselves. So I felt the responsibility, as the resident adult, to try to offer some emotional support.” Leona took over, and described her listening to Minnie describe herself as dizzy with distress at all the change in her life. The severance from her parents and the sense of confusion about who she was. And all the time, she was plunging chocolate down her neck, and filling her over-stuffed stomach. Leona started helping with the pack of blueberry muffins in a case on Minnie’s bed, and the pack of raspberry and white choc chip cookies lying on her bedside cabinet in a bid of solidarity. “You see, I could kind of relate. I’ve been feeling so stressed about work, about my weight...” Leona said. “Ermm... your weight?” Wiktoria asked, surprised that the proudly feminist had these kind of worries, presuming her to be above all that. “Yes, my weight. With all the food lying about this place, and all you lot practising your Free Hit philosophy, I was grazing myself bigger than I had ever been. And with the work backlog I was having to plough through making getting to the gym so difficult… I think I had gotten to 164lbs by then. I had never been over even 145lbs when I was with Roman, so it was all kinds of unnerving. I was having to get new clothes to cover this pot-belly thing I had and allow all manner of other similarly undignified concessions.” Leona said. She didn’t go into to much detail about it, she wasn’t as confident about that sort of thing as she would have had them previously believe. The recurring memory of her stomach on show as she reached up to write on the top of the whiteboard, allowing her taut, tight top to ride up and reveal its vanilla contents. The growing worry about buttoning her shirts in the morning in spite of the laws of physics. And saying all of that, it was, in fact, her arse and thighs that were the main issue. As they always were. And one she tackled by fastidiously avoiding jeans and buying bigger black trousers. Or wearing a classic combination of a long black skirt over black leggings. Anything to throw a veil over the increasing issue of her increasing. But it had been preying on her mind something chronic, the idea of deterioration, the idea that she had been slippily sliding down from success-ville into the murkier waters below. That she was letting herself down by blowing herself up, and the sense of self-worth that she had cultivated through years of over-achievement. She was struggling with the idea of having to let the unwelcome guest of self-loathing into the room, with so much of her identity wrapped up in the importance of her own self-celebration. “So, she thought she could kick-start my confidence with the hope that I could kick-start hers. But I wasn’t looking for a pick-me-up. I was looking for a fuck-me-up, and I took advantage of her low self-esteem and feelings about herself.” Minnie confessed. “I showed her things that probably hadn’t even been invented in her day. I pounced on her and crawled over every inch of her skin, cherishing and cradling all that she fretting over. I took her to the moon and back. I took advantage of her. “Wait, you honestly think that you took advantage? Of Leona? No way. She’s a decade older than you, and is a fucking Buddhist monk of Zen compared to your mental state. No, she should have known better” Rutherford had no intention of letting Leona off, for what she perceived to be a heinous act of irresponsible recklessness. “So, that was fuck number 3. Is that it? Are we up to the present day, and a final fourth fuck? Or is that part of a serialised fuck-athon that we’ve been none the wiser to.” “Yes, that was it until yesterday.” Leona said, getting increasingly defensive and feeling increasingly guilty, like the full extent of her actions hadn’t dawned on her until she tried to say them out loud. The woman who had always prided herself on being strong and stable had been finding herself weak and wobbly. As Minnie further illustrated with sex account numero cuatro. “Leona was crying on the toilet, while you two were out in the library. She was crying on the loo and I thought it was my turn to help her. She had been helping me while you were doing your absentee landlord thing, so I owed it to her to help her like she helped me” Minnie recounted how she had sat down on the other side of the bathroom door and listened to her teacher cry and wail about how out of control she felt. Out of control from her work piling up. Out of control about her weight. Out of control about having had sex with a student… in three separate incidents, no less. She was perched on the loo with her trousers round her ankles and sobbing at how this time last year she was feeling happier than she had ever felt and now she was drowning. And, sitting on the toilet, it was clear to see why she had concerns about her weight. Another 11lbs had attached itself to her form, taking her 175lbs. If you had walked in on her, it would have been all there for everyone to see, her pooching tummy and her less pert breasts, her widthy thighs and her expansively outspread arse. The teacher that had seen so much mocking for being seen as getting to where she is on account of her looks, was now worrying that people had stopped thinking that. She was no longer transcendentally beautiful any more. She was cute. With the weight making her, by all accounts, plumpish, she was now only cute. And this felt like demotion. “Well you might as well be hung for lamb as mutton” was what Minnie had said to her, with her Northern wisdom and in her Northern tongue. “What does that even mean?” had been the reply. “If people think you’ve let yourself go, you might as well do it properly and indulge yourself. It means, you’ll get fired if they find out you’ve had sex with a student three times, so you might as well make it four times and get your money’s worth. It means, instead of bemoaning your bad habits, realise at this stage of the game, a few more bad habits won’t do any harm. You might as well be hung for lamb as mutton, because if you're going down anyway, you might as well have the good stuff” And that was when she unlocked the bathroom door. She still hadn’t pulled up her pants, but rather just taken them off. And as much as it pained her to see herself slip for being so notoriously desirous to only pleasantly attractive, it also pained her to know that it pained her. She was supposed to be better than that. And the only consolation was she had a friend who was going through the same thing, and didn’t mind exchanging tongues and digits with her. And so they did, consensually, sensually and as equals. This was not a clash of superstratum and substratum languages, but two abstratum languages co-mingling and co-opting. These were two broken people who were tired of breaking. Because, Minnie was going through the same thing, perhaps even more so. The consequence of the swirling dervish of gluttony and the hailing maelstrom of indulgence that was Minnie’s life had done irreparable damage to the once twig-like girl, and she was similarly demoted in the looks stakes. When she had previously been an elegant, albeit slightly scrawny minx that anybody would have salivated over during week 1, she was now 212lbs. Sure, her body managed it as well as it could, flaring out her hips and even starting to bulge out her formerly bijou breasts, but the girl had taken the brunt of it in the stomach, and the tightly swollen globe meant she was only ever going to be at best considered ‘pretty, all things considering’. She was 99lbs heavier than when she had her first lesson and she dreaded to think about how people saw her now. Minnie had once tried to pick up a 15kg bag of potatoes once, back when she lived in Yorkshire, and was struck by how heavy it was. She had gained 3 times the weight of that bag. There were 3 lots of that bag additional to her frame. What must her classmates think when they look at her, having undergone such a transformation? Did they snicker behind her bulging back when she stuffed Snickers in her mouth? And what did Rutherford think? That was what Minnie really wanted to know. What did Rutherford think? But she could never ask. Rutherford and Wiktoria leaned back on the sofa having taken in the accounts of the two accused, and looked at each other not fully knowing quite what to think. It was appalling behaviour by the pair of them, of that there can be no doubt, but they seemed equally complicit in the explicit. And they were grown adults. But this was so many kinds of wrong. So they did the only thing they knew how, when confronted with a challenge that they don’t know how to resolve. “Does anybody fancy takeout?

A couple days ago, I was trying to visit a girl to ask her out. She wasn’t there, but her equally-cute/hot roommate was. We ended up talking a good fifteen minutes, kind of flirting, kind of opening up to each other. She mentioned working out at the gym over four hours a day (she’s pretty strong and short). When I said that was an “ungodly” amount of time that would negate any potential gainz, she replied she was actually doing cardio to “trim off” fifteen pounds. Naturally, I told her that in our profession it’s easy to accidentally lose weight (I accidentally lost five pounds 😑), so she totally didn’t have to trim. “Oh, I wish I had your metabolism! But I really want to run faster and losing weight will help.” I thought over this and replied honestly “well, I happen to have a biased opinion because I like thicc girls, so you should take my advice with a grain of salt. I’m a bad influence.” We laughed at this and — it might have been my imagination— she looked at me differently from that point on, as if she was a little more interested in me than before. Oh well, I’m taking her roommate on a date this weekend ❤️

♥️💋