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Chickenshack

Curvage Contributor
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About Chickenshack

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  • Location Trenton, NJ, USA

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    BBW/SSBBW Fiction and Short Stories. I write over at https://www.deviantart.com/chickenshack

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  1. Yes, that is actually the case.
  2. DO NOT accept any commission requests from this man./woman. I made that mistake and now, this person refuses to pay me or even contact me to explain why. Please do not make the same mistake that I did.
  3. “What?” Katie said, adjusting her slightly disheveled hair with one hand while the other continued to hold her steady. “We can’t all be marathon runners,” she breathily teased. “Some of us are a little more… endowed.” She winked at me, patting the top of her jutting hip and letting out a big sigh. I was a sprinter, not an endurance runner, but that was beside the point. It didn’t take an athlete to walk up two steps, no matter if they were spaced apart higher than usual or not. “Well,” she smiled, chest still heaving up and down, “Hurry up and get in! Oh, and you have to raise the step back up behind you.” I returned the step to its folded position without getting on first, pulling the double doors closer back together and merely climbing my way inside with one outstretched leg. “Or that,” Katie let out a breathy chuckle. “Showoff.” The interior of the van actually smelled rather nice, like whatever perfume Katie wore or whichever shampoo she put in her dazzlingly shiny albeit now slightly messy hair, as opposed to the smell of food which, for some reason, I was sort of expecting. This really was her personal ride; she likely used it to get around to most places, including work in the morning. I closed the doors behind us, a demure click indicating that they had fully shut and locked into place. Katie looked at me from her near-stranded position, leaning against the metal bar supporting her size and gestured to the much more comfortable looking, much more sturdy (I assumed) bench positioned on the wall behind her. “Umm, I don’t think the seat’s big enough for both of us,” she admitted, red in the face. Whether it was from embarrassment or overexertion, I couldn’t be quite sure. “But you can take a seat first, in the middle,” she suggested, “and that way we can share it.” She meant that she wanted to sit on my lap… Of course, that was a definite “no” from me, at least internally. I had already had enough close quarters contact with those massive mounds of meat she called an endowment to last several lifetimes. I recollected on the experiences that she had just had all of about twenty minutes ago, about her asking me if her clearly oversized ass was exactly that, about me denying so up and down even though I knew that I was blatantly lying in order to protect her feelings… I knew that I couldn’t protest now, even though I honestly wouldn’t have minded standing for the duration of the drive, as bent out of shape as my knees were at this point in the evening. And to believe that I had a track meet in a couple of days… It seemed like, through everything that she had put me through, through all of the shocked reactions she had endured from my end, Katie was still somehow under the very false impression that I found her proportions attractive. Well… maybe it partially had to do with me continuously assuring her that I was, even if the primary focus of that had only been to spare her self-esteem. Or maybe it was a lie she was focused on buying into herself, clearly wanting to believe that she had finally found an attractive guy who found her arousing despite her deplorably distorted shape. Either way, there was no backing out now. I smiled weakly, with her giggling at me in response as I carefully circumnavigated Katie’s prodigious posterior in order to take a seat directly behind her, not wanting to make any more physical contact with her calamitous, colossal caboose, even though I knew now that it was beyond avoidance. She took up enough space in the van, even when sideways, that it was easier to just plonk myself down on the end of the bench and then slide myself down its length until I was primly positioned right where the center of my lap would have lined up with hers. ‘Please don’t crush me, please don’t crush me…’ I thought to myself, making sure not to voice my trepidation aloud this time. “I can see the look on your face, dude,” Katie laughed, craning her head around as best she could to catch me eyes wide, mouth shut. “I’m not going to crush you,” she ensured me. It was almost as if she had actually read my mind on that one… although, I’m sure if she had, then, by now, she would have waddled off in tears over what I had been really thinking all night. “I’m really soft, I promise.” Oh yea, I think that I knew that much by now. “And super curvy, just like you like,” she added, licking her lips. I hardly had a word to say. My eyes were glued to her “curves” wondering if the last sensation I would ever experience in life was a girl who had to weigh around five times as much as me plonking herself down onto my pelvis. The girl in question only sighed sweetly, her alluring green eyes staring back at me with a look that was a mixture of both longing and lust. “Still speechless, huh baby?” Katie cooed, straightening her posture and giving her grossly mismatched behind a smack with both hands that I supposed she might have thought was seductive. Her entire lumbering lower half jiggled for a couple of seconds in response in a turbulent sort of way that, sexy or not, was simply mesmerizing to watch. “You like that?” Katie asked rhetorically in a way that was as sensual as possible though she was still audibly struggling to get her breathing back under control, having clearly misinterpreted my wide-eyed fixation. “Cuz you’re about to get a whole lot more…” I’d most certainly had enough, but this was obviously a very intimate moment for Katie, one that she must have been looking forward to all night. It was likely the ulterior motive that she had had for insisting that I ride with her, a chance to snuggle up closer to me in a more private setting. “I haven’t found a guy who wanted to cuddle with me in a really long time,” she confessed, bashfully. And she hadn’t found one tonight, either. Nonetheless, in the name of keeping up my ruse, I forced a weak smile and patted my thigh, indicating for her to take her seat. “Okay!” Katie giggled again. “Here I come!” She took a few awkward teetering steps backward so that she was poised over the entirety of the plush, velvet “car seat” I was soon to be pinned to. I would have hoped that Katie would have at least had the courtesy to lower herself onto my lap gently, but, as was the case in Fujiyama’s she didn’t exactly seem capable of performing such a simple maneuver if she wanted to. As I braced myself one more time, Katie let out a sigh of relief to finally be getting off of her feet as she breathlessly allowed herself to plummet backward carelessly, bringing down on me all at once the billowing, bizarre, bombastic weight of nearly eight separate girls her height.
  4. Removing my buried hands from the depths of Katie’s wobbling flesh, I watched as her now less-supported butt expanded back to its previous profound proportions, pressing heavily against my chest as I once again braced myself in a semi-squat and reached under her bulging behind like my arms were some sort of crane. At this point, the center of Katie’s large, jiggling lower half was almost completely enveloping the sleeker, firm upper half of my body, with me feeling buried in her soft, pliable pudge all the way past my clavicle. I had to bend my neck backwards and stare straight up at the sky in order to avoid sinking my face into her cheeks. From this awkward position, I tried to resume standing upright, straightening out my legs raising my palms and forearms up, doing my damnedest to lift as much of Katie’s ungainly, undulating ass up with me as possible. Holy Hell… I was not fully braced for this… For something so soft, so plush, so malleable, Katie’s butt was incredibly heavy. All I was doing was essentially lifting it a few inches higher than it normally rested, and even that was an olympian task in and of itself that had my lower back practically screaming for mercy. Granted, Katie’s ass was surprisingly perky for its size, still somewhat buoyant despite its ineffable volume and sticking more so outward than it drooped downward, but the billowing, bulging bulk that did succumb to the forces of gravity were cascading over my upper arms and pressing heavily enough into my ribcage that I could hardly breathe. It put Katie’s constant, exhausted waddle into a new perspective. She was dragging a wagon that had to weigh as much as an actual wagon… Well, sure, that was likely an exaggeration, but knowing that Katie had to lug around such heinously hefty hindquarters behind her wherever she went sort of illustrated to me how much work she had to put in just to achieve the glacially slow, plodding pace that I had been forced to familiarize myself with. Add to that her impractically, ineffectively bloated thighs and calves that must have been as thick as Christmas hams and it was no wonder that the poor half-porker was so out of breath any time she had to do anything remotely physical. “Yea, that works a lot better,” Katie cooed, having not noticed the intense struggle going on directly behind her, directly because of her. She was grinning cheekily, turning her head to view me from the corner of her eye again. “Boy, you’re certainly getting a handful today, aren’t you?” “Lucky me,” I grunted. Katie giggled in response, clearly not hearing the sarcasm in my tone through my gritted teeth. “Yea, usually I’d wait for a guy to by me chocolates first,” she joked. She was probably trying to lighten the mood again after her tiny outburst. “Umm, Katie,” I squeaked out, “if you don’t mind?” “Oh- oh, right,” she frowned and faced forward, clearing her throat and bending forward slightly. “Okay, I’m ready,” she told me. Good. I wanted to get this over with before I slipped a disc or something. I pushed forward as she tried her hardest to lift her right leg off of the ground. If I had thought that this was a herculean amount of exertion for me, the chorus of grunts, groans and grimaces emanating from Katie’s mouth indicated that she was hardly faring much better. Had she been somehow facing me, I would have seen that her eyes were closed shut in concentration as she poured all of her willpower and physical strength into putting all of her weight onto her right leg as the left slower, painstakingly left contact with the ground. It was completely different without a team to pull her from the front; with just us, Katie had almost no support from her slim, delicate arms, instead pressing them both deep into the giving flesh of her left upper thigh as she tried to gain enough leverage to haul herself up a single step. From behind, I was pressed so deeply into her ass that, had it actually been made out of jell-o, I would have been worried that I would sink right in and get swallowed up, lost in a sea of fat so large that it needed its own van with specialized seating. Of course, had her overworked leggings actually just been filled with something as light as gelatin as opposed to hundreds of pounds of jiggling, gelatinous flab, we likely wouldn’t be having this dilemma. Katie managed to raise her foot on the metal foldout and the entire van tipped noticeably backward. I prayed she didn’t tip backward herself; I’m not sure that I would have survived if all of her adipose dropped directly down on top of me. With her now slightly elevated position and my arms again exhausted, I slowly lowered them back down to provide some relief to my strained biceps. Katie’s bulbous butt drooped to its resting position, with her hunching forward perhaps to offset its weight, or perhaps just because climbing the one step had left her completely spent. “Okay,” she sputtered breathlessly, barely being able to manage more than a whisper, “one more…” We both took a few seconds to recuperate and I took that precious time to try and stretch my arms out a little bit. Since Katie was a bit higher up now, getting her off of the step and into the van proper was likely going to require a different approach. As Katie began the arduous process of raising her right leg this time, arms pressing against the roof of the van for balance, I watched as her shirt rode up a few good inches, finally settling itself right around where her waist so drastically tapered inward. Her sloping love handles and bulging back fat now fully exposed, I tried my best to avert my eyes while I reassessed Katie’s stair situation. “I’m…. I’m ready,” Katie called back to me in barely more than a rasp, although she hardly seemed that way. Her chest was heaving up and down as she fought to regain her composure, beads of light sweat causing her admittedly still spectacular long hair to stick to the sides of her forehead. “Hold on,” I answered back, formulating an idea. “I… huff… I can’t,” Katie pleaded, so close to her destination but still so far. She lowered one arm, still keeping her precarious balance with the other, to try to wipe some of the sweat pooling on her brow and brush her hair back out of her eyes. “Alright…” I muttered. I got down on one knee and scooched myself directly under Katie’s mammoth ass, completely engulfed by its shadow. I quickly turned around so that I was facing away from her. This time, I was going to try to support her weight with my shoulders, pushing upward from underneath her with all my strength like I was Tom Holland’s character trying to hold up that fallen rubble in the Spiderman movie. What I would have given for my own form of super-strength at that moment… I spread both of my arms wide, palming the opposite undersides of her butt while her squishy center and enormous thighs poured onto and over my upper back and shoulders. Even with my arms completely outstretched, I still just barely missed being able to reach far enough to fully encompass the seat of her pants, my fingertips falling short by a good few inches. “Okay,” I said, sinking into her flesh once more. “Ready!” I tried to launch myself upward, arms spread wide as I pushed myself backward in an attempt to give her the support she needed for the second half of our struggle. Even though I could hear her grunting again, she felt like she had hardly budged. I was only pushing myself deeper and deeper into her expansive ass, this time worried that my head was actually going to get swallowed up by her crack if if my cranium accidentally burst a hole through her leggings. I could only surmise that this was what Atlas must have felt like holding up the entire world, if the world had been made out of pudding. Getting off of one knee and pushing up with both of my legs, I could feel her slowly rising as she strained to lift herself up from her end. I was starting to wonder if this had been the best approach after all… Even facing the other way, Katie’s ass was plush and giving enough that it was dangerously close to my face; had I done this facing towards her, she likely would have been suffocating me with the tops of her thighs. Her gargantuan glutes were creeping over the sides of my skull like yielding, dimpled earmuffs, momentarily cutting off the sounds of her grunting and wheezing as finally, finally, I thought I could feel her begin to make progress in taking her final, well, second step. She lurched herself onto the van at long last, taking a few teetering steps so as to not fall forward while I myself fell backward onto the metal foldout with an audible thud that sent a jolt through my tailbone and up my lumbar. Finally relieved of my nine hundred plus pound burden, I rubbed my lower back with a well-deserved grimace. Behind me, Katie began pivoting to the side, leaning forward heavily and practically falling onto the support bar running the length of the van’s left side, breathing exhaustedly as her ass prolific posterior protruded far enough to hover barely a foot away from the long bench that ran most of the length of the right. As I got up from the rather uncomfortable step, checking to see how badly my hair had been mussed up, the look that I gave Katie was one of bewilderment and depletion, having even started to sweat lightly myself. Katie was panting like a dog, fanning herself lightly with one hand while the other gripped her support bar for dear life. I could see her one arm trembling…. In fact, I could see her knees wobbling, her exceedingly chunky thighs jiggling along with them even though she had otherwise stopped moving. “God,” she complained, looking over to me, “that is such… a workout for me…” Even as exasperated as I was, I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
  5. “Just… leave it for now,” Katie managed to choke out in between breaths. She turned her attention to the doors and resumed leaning against them, closing her eyes as if she was silently wishing for the exhaustion to go away. After a few more precious seconds of recuperation, she gripped the van doors’ handles and pulled them open. I was surprised; the interior of the van was not like I had expected it to be. It was clearly designed to look not like a storage space but the inside of a coach or carriage; there was light velvet carpeting along the floor and walls, lighting emanating from the ceiling, a sturdy looking steel bar along the left side of the van and a plush, pleather couch of matching dark pink color built onto the right. It had a sort of Eighties chic to it… A small metal step unfurled from the bottom and Katie took an ungainly step backward to make space for it. “Okay,” she put her hands on her extra-wide hips and deeply exhaled, puffing her cheeks out as she did so. “Umm, you might have figured this out already, but I’m not really built for stairs,” she gave her leggings one final, ineffective tug. “I just need a little push, if you don’t mind,” she giggled awkwardly. Of course I minded… But Katie had already turned around before I could voice any protest and had begun the arduous task of raising her right leg up to position it on the metal foldout. The step might have been just a tad higher than what one might find scaling a conventional staircase, but it was only about a quarter of a foot off of the ground. Katie still had to put her all into raising her enormous calve high enough to place her foot on it. Another obnoxiously loud grunt, another ungainly heave, and Katie managed to take her first step into her own car, her thighs swishing obtrusively as they slushed past each other. Even before she had transitioned her full weight onto the step, the entire back end of the van dipped. It must have had some ungodly suspension… Katie leaned forward, using the van doors for support as she prepared herself to actually lift her near half-ton body off of the gravel. Did she really need my aid for something as simple as this? Like I had surmised earlier, there had to be at least some musculature buried beneath her plethora of pudge somewhere, but it looked like all that it was good for was keeping Katie strong enough to lug her gargantuan girth around so long as there was no elevation or incline in sight. I was now pretty sure now that there was no way, no matter how big her house was, that Katie ever made it up to the second floor in her own home. Standing directly behind her, I could see that with her right leg propped up, her bountiful butt cheeks were no longer level with each other, the left still sagging heavily over its corresponding pillar of lard but supported a bit better by her straightened leg, creasing heavily where it began its descent down to about mid-thigh. The right side of her appallingly ample ass had no such support anymore; it flopped both backward and downward, held up insufficiently only by the restrictiveness of her stretched-out slacks, and pulling the top of those tired, tested trousers down with it, which meant that the right side of her ass was just as poorly covered as before. “Alright,” Katie instructed, now that she was finally in her strained position, “I just need you give me a really,” she grunted, “strong push, okay?” Not really looking forward to having to sink my hands back into all of that back fat, I tried to feign ignorance in order to stall for just a little bit of time. “Er, push from where?” I asked, dreading the inevitable answer. “From, um, the same place as last time,” Katie tried to explain. “When I… “fell over” inside the restaurant. Like, try to lift me up a little bit, you know?” Oh, at this point in the evening, I knew quite a bit more than I wanted to. I blanched, closing the distance between myself and Katie’s dynamic derriere. Having an idea of where to place my hands, even though I knew that I didn’t actually want to, I reached over to Katie and pressed into her beyond beach ball sized cheeks, sinking once again into the billowing, bulging back fat of her obese lower body well past my wrists. “Ouch!” she squealed. “Careful…” “Uh, sorry,” I muttered, although I hardly felt as though I could be blamed. It wasn’t like I’d ever had to push a super morbidly obese girl up a flight of stairs before, even if there were only two of them. “Just do it like you did before,” Katie reiterated, somewhat irritatedly this time. Her tone struck somewhat of a nerve, I had to admit… Was she the one losing patience with me?! After everything that I had been completely reticent in having to put up with so far? “Okay, okay,” I conceded. “My bad…” “No, I-“ Katie stammered, pausing to let her breath out in a long sigh. “I’m sorry, babe. I’m just really tired from standing so much. My legs feel like they’re turning into jell-o…” she muttered under her breath. She had no idea how accurate that comparison was…
  6. Katie’s face lit up into a wide, beaming smile. “Well, its really close,” she explained, “so you can just drive behind me.” She paused for a moment, examining my face for a moment. “Or, better yet, you probably shouldn’t drive. Those foreign beers must be really strong,” she surmised. “Your complexion is pretty red, dude.” I nodded, not having the heart to tell her that my face was hardly ruddy from being tipsy as opposed to it being from having had to lift almost a half-ton off of the floor with my bare hands, four other men assisting me or not. “Good point,” I weakly feigned acquiescence. “You can ride with me and I’ll drop you right back here when you sober up.” She pulled her phone back out of her pocket. “I’ll just, um, text my driver to pull the car up.” I raised an eyebrow. Katie had her own personal driver? It made sense; I had no idea what kind of car Katie could have possibly drove, custom or otherwise, and I know for a fact that she hadn’t walked to Fujiyama’s, if her highly ineffective gait and surprising quickness to exhaustion were any indication. What I wondered even more though was whether or not Katie’s chauffeur was a flaunting of her own personal wealth or an inconvenient expense born out of sheer necessity. Just how rich was the Iaccone family? She’d said earlier that her parents had left her a very big house before retiring relatively early… I could only assume that it had to be pretty large if she could move about it unencumbered. I wondered if Katie’s bedroom was on the first or second floor… She clearly didn’t seem like she could handle a flight of stairs. I had to hold back a smirk when the car that she rode in finally pulled up at the curb in front of us. It was a large black delivery van, one of the kinds that restaurants and convenience stores used for their bulk weekly shipments, and it was obvious where, on the side of the van, the Finoli’s logo had been crudely painted over. Katie began to waddle toward the double doors in the back while the driver’s side door popped open. A middle-aged man, actually dressed quite professionally, hopped his way out and straightened up his uniform, a light novel in one hand that he laid down on the seat before making his way towards the back as well. He did take a moment to pause and greet me with a courteous nod before turning to address his passenger, his voice dull and disinterested, but his tone undoubtedly servile. “Will you be requiring the usual assistance, Miss Iaccone?” So he was an actual driver. With his pressed suit and forcibly straightened posture, he looked like he would have been more at home stepping out of a lavish limousine than an ostensible moving van. Katie, whose out-of-breath response I was sure the man had to be accustomed to by now, smiled and paused to try and pull up her hopeless leggings again while rotating in place a bit to notion over to me. “Oh, well, Davie’s been really helpful all night, actually. I think I’m good, Ricky,” she turned to me. “Babe, do you think you could help me again?” Katie asked me with her soft smile. “I just need a little push.” “I, uh, sure,” I agreed reluctantly. The driver, whose name I had already forgotten, gave me a forced smile and another curt nod before about-facing and returning to his post, novel already back in hand before he had even closed the driver side door. Making sure that Katie couldn’t see it, I gulped again. Was I really going to have to make contact with her massive, wobbling ass again after I had just practically had my face in it less than ten minutes ago? This girl needed so much help just to get around… and now that she had begun to feel more comfortable designating me to be the one to assist her, I found that the sympathy that I had once had for her predicament was beginning to wear thin. Katie needed a few more seconds to plod up to the van doors, leaning on them for support while she took a moment to catch her breath. “Just… give me… one second,” she huffed, smiling weakly. It seemed like she still hadn’t fully regained all of the stamina that she had spent during the earlier fiasco of lifting herself up off of the ground and walking all of twenty yards to the restaurant exit, even though she had had plenty of assistance with both. The position that she was standing in, leaning slightly forward with her belly sagging down in front of her and her butt jutting out behind her, really brought to light how far her insanely proportioned ass cheeks protruded out behind her. Having still, despite all of her previous struggles, not managed to pull her pants all the way up to an acceptable height, the top rim of her leggings cut deeply into her squishy, giving butt blubber, giving her a sort of “double butt” that resulted in an oozing, jiggling shelf that I could have eaten a whole Thanksgiving dinner off of, with her red thong serving as a wholly insufficient tablecloth. The part of her ineffably rotund rear that was contained by her leggings was stretching the overloaded item of clothing out even further in her position, her impossibly bulging booty looking like it was due to burst free if Katie so much as slipped another calorie down her throat. Indeed, with a clear and still side view of my date, still cacophonously recuperating with her loud, deep, exasperated breaths, I could see that the seams running along the widest, most burgeoning part of Katie’s hips were already beginning to give way, although the stitching of the fabric was holding fast for the time being. I wondered why she hadn’t just chosen a bigger pair of pants, if such an article of clothing even existed on this earth. I was sure that the pair had been adequate for her up until this point; Katie had also said earlier that she had been gaining a lot of weight recently, and having witnessed her appetite firsthand, I certainly wasn’t inclined to doubt her. All in all, her white and black pinstriped leggings might have done some job restraining her surprisingly smooth but lardy lower half from reaching its maximum volume, but I could only wonder for how long. The vertical stripes running down her enormous legs certainly weren’t slimming; on the contrary, the lines widened dramatically as they ran up her thunder thighs, stretched wide and distorted in the various places where Katie’s legs and ass were most egregiously afflicted by adipose. Whether it be the chill of the evening breeze drifting across the exposed top of her butt or my unabashed staring, Katie seemed to take notice of how much more ill-fitting her attire both looked and felt than when the night had begun. “Oh, baby, do you think you could help me with my pants now? Just… yank on them really hard.” I wanted to roll my eyes, I truly did, but I resisted. instead, I approached Katie from behind as she pushed herself up off the back of her personal van in order to straighten up a bit. She still had one hand placed on it for balance as she instructed me further. “Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll shimmy a little bit.” “Okay…” I answered weakly. I had to bend forward in order to reach the hem of her leggings; even then, I still had to press into the farthest protruding part of her ass so that I could reach far enough. That meant all of her callipygous corpulence was pressed right up against my crotch, a soft, squishing sensation that I had a difficult time ignoring. As I tried to get a firm grip around the tops of the poorly proportioned pinstriped pants, my knuckles pressed into Katie’s mushy behind, eliciting a giggle from her. “That’s cold!” she squirmed, her entire lower half jiggling in response to her movements, save for the section that was pressed into me. “But, try to go a little wider, okay?” She was referring to the positioning of my hands. I had placed them about a foot apart from each other; Katie wanted me to position each hand so that it was more centered in the middle of each wondrously wide ass cheek, which meant that I was going to have to press into her even further in order to reach. I gulped for a third time, then tried to inch myself even further into the wall of flab and flesh that she dragged behind her wherever she went. It wasn’t all that easy; Katie’s butt might have been soft and yielding, but it still only had so much give without me really pushing my torso into her, which I was certainly not apt to do. As the contact between my lower body and hers increased, Katie let out a low, almost swooning sigh. I didn’t want to think about how she was likely enjoying this,; Katie’s fretful longing for romance likely came with a longing for physical intimacy as well. My washboard stomach, sturdy but toned thighs and everything in between was sinking into into the cavernous depth of her fat, a pleasurable experience for her but a living nightmare for me. “Okay, that’s good!” Katie stopped me when she felt I had stretched my arms wide enough to get into a workable position. “It feels really nice, actually,” she added, a bit more seductively. I grimaced, happy that Katie was turned around and couldn’t see the uncomfortable look on my face. “Okay, I’m ready,” was the only response I could muster, and, although she couldn’t see me, I could see her expression turn to one of subtle disappointment. “O-okay,” she replied dejectedly, finally taking her other hand off of the car and gripping her leggings as well, placing them at either side in preparation to begin heaving her pants up. “Okay…” she gritted her teeth and took a deep breath, clearly less than eager to have to exert herself again so soon. “Pull!” I did my best to try and pull her leggings up and over the exposed part of Katie’s behind while she pulled up from the sides, attempting to wriggle the confining clothing up her caboose by swishing side to side, shifting her immense weight between her two feet as she grunted audibly. Even these slight but rapid wiggles caused her sea of rippling adipose to start jiggling out of control, sending tremulous waves of flesh wobbling violently out of control… and into me. I had to brace myself against her roiling hindquarters, lest I be knocked over onto the gravel. As with everything physical that Katie tried to do, progress was slow and cumbersome. Her pants were barely inching upward, clearly unwilling to fully encompass the rotundity of her rump. She was grunting and groaning loudly enough to be heard across the parking lot, struggling with considerable effort although I was sure that even these minute movements were driving her back to the point of exhaustion. “Okay, okay…” she finally relented after a few more moments of struggling. The heavy, overwhelmed breathing that I had grown accustomed to had returned in full force. She was practically wheezing now, though she tried to speak through it as though nothing was wrong. “I guess… I guess that’s good enough.” Honestly… it really wasn’t. I had barely made any progress in the back, managing to cover maybe about an inch and a half more of Katie’s canyon of a plumber’s crack by the time she had declared herself sufficiently covered. It was likely a lie on Katie’s part; she had just run out of energy and willpower to keep struggling, as was evident by the way she had returned to leaning against the van doors and, despite the climbing chill of the March evening air, the fact that she was beginning to perspire moderately. “Uh, sure,” I pretended to agree, more because I wanted more than anything to minimize the contact between my muscular body and Katie’s contrastingly corpulent ass. As I moved away from her, her butt allowed itself to push outward into the space that I was no longer occupying, taking with it her leggings, of course, and undoing the majority of the progress that we had just made; about three fourths of what Katie had previously had exposed remained as such. I could only guess from her ragged, haggard breathing that we weren’t going to continue any further, though.
  7. “I, yea, well uh…” I smiled nervously. “Dave?” I heard Katie call out from behind me. I craned my head to see that she had turned around partially and was struggling rather unsuccessfully to pull her leggings back up. “I really want to go,” she pleaded from across the room. I could understand why; several of the buffet diners were still snickering audibly at her, not yet having returned to their meals. She’d likely be the focus of everyone’s attention until she left the restaurant. I turned back to Courtney and quickly put my varsity jacket back on, obscuring my muscles from her view. Courtney looked somewhat miffed at being interrupted again, but her grin quickly reformed as she made her goodbye. “Like I said, just let her down easy, Tiger,” she winked at me and added with a chuckle, “just maybe not literally though.” I laughed weakly in response and slung Katie’s sweatshirt over my shoulder, not sure how to reply. “Right,” was all that I managed to eke out. Courtney then took the opportunity to turn around and walk away from me, intentionally giving me one last look at her sultry sashay before I myself turned around to follow in the wake of my “blind date’s” quaking, undulating backside. She faced the same problems trying to make a speedy exit as she had plodding on in; several of the chairs and tables were positioned too closely together for her to easily circumnavigate. I jogged up to provide assistance as best as I could, pushing chairs in or even moving a table or two aside so that Katie could make her way to the restaurant double doors with minimal obstacles. She, of course, had difficulties with the doors as well; I had to hold one for her while she held the other and wisely turned her body so she could scoot through them sideways, lest her hips get caught on the doorframe again. Once we were back outside, in the cool night air, she breathed a sigh of relief. “That was so embarrassing,” she muttered, eyes glued to the sidewalk. “Everyone was laughing at me…” As eager as I was to turn tail and run back to my car, I did still feel a great deal of sympathy for her. “Hey, no they weren’t,” I blatantly lied. I handed her her sweatshirt back. “Here, its cold. We should probably just head back to our cars.” Katie looked up at me with the softest, sweetest most gorgeous doe eyes I’d ever seen, her lips forming into a delicate pout. “W-we don’t have to,” she said to me. “I didn’t mean to cut the whole night short.” She let out a sigh of frustration. “God, I feel like I always ruin everything.” “No, of course you don’t,” I put on my biggest smile. “I just uh, should probably get to bed soon, that’s all.” Katie’s brow furrowed a bit as she reached into her hoodie pocket to glance at her phone. “But its only a little past seven…” she stated. She put her phone away and lightly tussled her hair. “I mean,” she looked back up at me, eyes boring into mine, “I know this really great ice cream place a few blocks away!” she offered, finally beginning to smile again slightly, although the pleading look of mild desperation was still in her eyes. “I go there all the time and the owners know me really well, so I always get discounts and,” she looked off to the side nervously, “they always keep a special seat open for me.” I gulped, thinking of any excuse to turn Katie down without hurting her feelings any more than they’d already likely been shattered inside Fujiyama’s. ‘Just say no, Dave. Say no. Make up a cat that you have to go home and feed or a freaking plant that you have to water, anything…’ But, of course, it was the look in Katie’s soft but piercing green eyes… It was so hard not to instantly fall for her every time I didn’t have to look downward, even with my left hand in my pocket still clutching the sheet of paper that “Sakura” had written her number down on. “It’ll be fun,” Katie iterated, smiling wider, her confidence seemingly gradually coming back to her, “I promise. They have this really great chocolate crumble ice cream cake with white fudge, I usually just get one for myself but, umm, I’d let you have some.” She appeared to mull that last sentence over in her mind for just a moment. “Or we could just get two,” she adjusted her offer. And there was the attraction right out the window again. My feelings for this girl had really been seesawing up and down all night. After that entire fiasco at the buffet, did she actually just casually admit to me that she regularly ate an entire ice cream cake all by herself? There was hardly any part of me that wanted to bear even more witness to Katie’s damn near insatiable appetite, but the girl had obviously been having a rough night and part of me knew that any more rejection, no matter how soft, would only make it even worse. I sighed. Whether or not Katie noticed it, I wasn’t quite sure, but either way, I was already reasoning with myself that I supposed it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I tried to make Katie feel just a little bit better about herself after such a tumultuously awkward experience. If anything, it would send some good karma my way when I finally got home and dialed Courtney’s number. “Sure,” I relented, “what’s the address?”
  8. Again, it was Courtney who came up with the solution. Abandoning her shit-eating grin for a moment, she hastily shouted something to two of the other workers who were on the sidelines. They quickly nodded, trotting behind the men who were pulling and wrapped their arms around two of the scrawnier ones, pulling back with all their might like a human belay. To my surprise, it actually worked. With one massive yank, they managed to pull Katie far enough forward that she was in a semi-crouching position. From there, she was able to rise up slowly, still not under her own power but with the now six overexerted men both helping her up and providing some much-needed balance and stability, lest she just tip over in the forward direction and put us back at square one. My complexion having turned a solid shade of red from the blood rushing to my face, I managed one final upward lift in order to help Katie stand fully upright, feeling every bit like I was attempting to raise up the world’s softest, heaviest king-sized waterbed that someone had filled with pudding instead of liquid. When I was finally able to let go of her and drop my arms, they felt as sore as if I’d just been squatting twice my own weight in the gym for the past hour. With my track meet only a few days away, I found myself silently grateful that I was a runner and not a javelin thrower… Katie’s astonishing ass cheeks, no longer held up by my weary arms, succumbed to gravity and plopped down heavily to about mid-thigh, pulling the top of her leggings farther down with it. Her lightly tanned fleshed jiggled for a few moments like jello, which was exactly how my muscles felt as well. But thank God… Katie was up on her feet again. She was red-faced in both embarrassment and exertion, panting heavily and sweating lightly, trying to gain some semblance of balance on her comparatively tiny, dainty feet. She was slouching over slightly from exhaustion, chin boring into her prominent bosom as she struggled to regain her composure. If only to add to unconsciously add to the embarrassment, several of the restaurant patrons were cheering, clapping politely and letting out loud whoops in near-adulation. The restaurant workers were spent, but enthusiastic as well; the four who had provided aid were fist-bumping each other and receiving pats on the back from one another, either oblivious to Katie’s public humiliation or not quite caring. Katie, officially destroyed for the evening as far as her self-esteem was concerned, looked every bit like she wanted to leave. Indeed, as I walked up into her periphery, tired arms dangling uselessly at my sides, she turned her head to me and spoke to me in a quiet, exasperated whimper. “Let’s umm,” she stuttered, “we should just go now…” I forced my most supportive smile and nodded, eager to leave as well, at least so I could finally see this awkward night reach its conclusion. Katie, on her tired, over encumbered legs, began her ungainly, impeded shuffle in the direction of the exit, refusing eye contact with anyone else after that point, including me. I made to follow in the wake of her undulating backside when the far slimmer Courtney strode up to me and stopped me in my tired tracks. “I’m pretty sure I can take care of the uh, damages,” she spoke with a wry smile, Katie clearly preoccupied with her uncomfortableness and glacially waddling out of earshot, “but here’s my personal cell phone number in case we need to get in contact with you.” Clever, Courtney. Clever. I did my best to act like I wasn’t overwhelmed and worn out from the whole ordeal of bringing my date into a standing position and raised my hand to Courtney’s outstretched one so that I could take from her the sheet of paper that she was so furtively eager to hand to me. I nodded and slipped it into my pocket, letting out a weak chuckle and a nod of appreciation. Courtney winked and patted me lightly on the shoulder, turning around for a quick glance to see if Katie was looking back to see the two of us interacting. Of course, she wasn’t; she was singularly preoccupied with getting out and away from Fujiyama’s as quickly as possible, away from the still-prying eyes and the hushed whispers that were, without a doubt, centered around her inhumanly plush posterior. She was so set on creating as much distance between herself and Fujiyama’s at this point that she had neglected to attempt to pull her pants back up, much to her detriment. As she slowly plodded away, even more exhausted than when she waddled in, the tops of her rolling, roiling ass cheeks fighting to escape from her pinstriped leggings which, I finally noticed, were actually very tight on her. The way she was slowly, progressively starting to ooze out of them gave me the impression that her outfit was actually restricting her lower half from expanding to its true size; Katie was probably even wider with her pants off. Not that I planned on finding that out for myself, at any rate. In all of Katie’s “haste”, if one could call it that, she’d neglected to retrieve her hoodie from our table. I scooped it up, along with my jacket, and turned back to Courtney and the workers, most of which had milled back into their routines or returned to the kitchen. Courtney was still standing there, eyes rolling and holding back giggles like she had just witnessed a circus act. She sauntered up to me one last time, “Your arms must be pretty tired after all that,” she purred, licking her lips as she ran her fingers down my biceps. “I happen to know a really good masseuse,” she offered. “In fact,” her voice dropped a bit lower in volume, “you’re looking at her.” I immediately felt the blood leave my face and begin to rush to a different area.
  9. “Okay,” I exhaled, getting into a squatting position. I was going to have to slide my hands, no, likely both of my entire arms, under all of Katie’s corpulence and do my very best to try to lift her up without throwing my back out. The other servers were waiting on me, watching me with intent as I began to slip my upper extremities in between her bulbous, soft ass and what remained of the mostly destroyed bench. Katie gasped a little bit. She was already blushing from having embarrassed herself thus far, and I was positioned behind her, so I couldn’t get a good look at her expression. I could, however, catch the shit-eating grin Courtney had smeared across her face off to the side. Unlike me, she was appreciating every moment of this… My arms sank right into Katie’s giving flesh with barely any issue. I was actually a bit surprised by the texture of her skin; I’d expected all sorts of pockmarks, cellulite and wrinkles like with most other fat people I’d sneered at in the past, and while they certainly were there, she was remarkably smooth compared to how she could have felt. With the way Katie’s monumental ass molded around my hands and upper arms but then still maintained full contact with the floor elsewhere, I couldn’t just insert my arms underneath her like a plug into an electrical outlet. Katie’s butt jutted and spread out behind her so much that I hadn’t even reached the broken bench yet; I had my palms cupped and was trying to lift her cheek fat up to create enough space to push my arms further under her, simultaneously lifting and sliding forward, inch by inch, in an arduous process that might have only been taking seconds but felt more like hours. I could feel that the fabric of Katie’s leggings was getting caught on the tips of my fingers as well, but there was hardly anything that I could do about that either. “Oh, um, babe?” Katie interrupted hesitantly, craning her neck as best she could to address me, “You’re kinda pulling my pants down a little bit.” Given the proximity I was now forced into with her lower back, there was no denying that I was already aware of that. Just a sliver of the top of Katie’s crack was visible now, and I could see just how far her exposed lacy red thong plunged into its cavernous depth. “Uh, just a second,” I told her, not sure how I was supposed to tackle this most recent dilemma. I’d already submerged my hands so far under Katie’s massive ass that I wasn’t going to pull them back out from under her and start from scratch. What else was I supposed to do then, yank her leggings back up with my teeth? I kept progressively inching my hands under Katie’s colossal posterior until I finally felt like I had a good enough point of leverage. I looked up to the muscular employee who had helped me earlier and the three companions that now flanked him and mouthed a quick “okay”. He nodded and signaled to the other men, then looked back at me and began counting off again. “One. Two. Three!” I gripped Katie as best as I could, sinking into the squishiest part of her body and lifting with all of the might that I could muster. Katie tried her best to push herself up and straighten her legs while the four men pulled with the fervor of tug-of-war champions going for an Olympic gold metal. And, remarkably, Katie slowly began to rise. She was grunting furiously; I could tell that she was putting in just as much effort as any one of us. There was no ignoring Katie’s massive ass now; all of it was pressed against me as I tried my hardest to both lift and push forward at the same time. Her leggings had rode themselves down even further as a result; luckily for me, I was far too preoccupied to actually look downward and take it all in. Katie slowly but surely rose a few more inches. As she finally began to clear contact with the fractured bench, a couple of other servers who were on hand slid it out carefully from under her, surveying the damage and shaking their heads in dismay. The remainder of the restaurant’s patrons were completely zeroed in on the six of us; even with my focus solely centered elsewhere, I could see the wide stares being cast my way, the people wondering if we’d manage to succeed the second time with more than twice as many people put to the task. I swore that I even caught two middle-aged men putting large bills on the table; were they actually placing bets? At any rate, I couldn’t afford to be distracted. Even if we were continuing to make progress, it was slow, arduous progress, and I could already tell that I was running lower on stamina with each passing second. I could feel my knees trembling; I was almost ready to buckle under the exertion. I hardly even knew how much assistance I was actually providing; I felt as though I sunk so far into Katie’s giving lower girth that I was hardly putting any actual effort into lifting her. I couldn’t have said so through gritted teeth even if I wanted to, but part of me really wished that Courtney’s idea had involved some sort of extra-wide car jack instead of me. Katie was giving it her all; her knees were shaking likely just as much as mine, and I could tell by the subsequent jiggling of her immense thighs. Another couple of inches… The men in front of Katie were leaned back now, trying to counter her own ridiculous weight with their own. I wondered if they knew just how much weight they were dealing with… nine hundred-twenty plus pounds was no joke, and the four men might not have realized that their combined weight still sharply paled in comparison to her own. I prayed that her slimmer, delicate arms didn’t slip out of their grasp, lest the full brunt of Katie’s impractical obesity be squared solely on me. The six of us, Katie included, were still giving it our all, but there was a dead stop in progress. Katie was almost at the height that she had been when she was seated earlier, but she wasn’t elevating any further… I could tell that she had reached the limit of her exertion, her oversized, overtaxed legs having put in all the effort that she could muster. ‘C’mon, c’mon,’ I was begging internally. I couldn’t believe that the force of five that we had assembled wasn’t quite enough manpower. What would Katie have done if she was on her own? Just flailed there helplessly until she had starved to death? ~~ https://www.amazon.com/Shaq-Writer/e/B0872G5WW6?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1&qid=1611158753&sr=8-1
  10. The servers continued to speak to each other in subdued tones as they debated and discussed Katie’s unusual request. I was sure that many of them had seen their fair share of overweight patrons in their time; they were buffet workers after all. But I doubted that too many of them had ever encountered a young woman so fat, so encumbered by her own obesity, that she couldn’t rise under her own poser. Katie wasn’t looking at me and I was thankful for that. I felt completely impotent to do anything but watch with the same confusion and helplessness as all of the other men. It was Courtney who broke through the chatter, trying to assess the situation as best as she could. “I uh, think we might actually have to charge you for that,” she turned to me, crossing her arms. She did not look too happy. “Maybe we would have been better off with the chairs,” she mused quietly. Katie didn’t overhear; she was too busy quietly sniffling to herself, trying not to make it too obvious that she was sobbing to herself. “Any input here?” Courtney asked me. Like I knew what to do. “Umm, I guess that we should move the table out of the way,” I shrugged. “Makes sense,” Courtney nodded. She and I slid the table well out of the way, being careful not to disturb what remained of Katie’s meal, and reassessed the situation from there. “Babe,” Katie whimpered, “do you think you could just pull me up?” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and looked up to me with a pleading, desperate look. All eyes turned to me… Like I had said earlier, there was no way I was going to be strong enough to lift her all by myself… Plus, I wasn’t really a big fan of her calling me “babe” in front of other people. I guess part of me was still guiltily hoping to convince Courtney that this was a “blind date” sort of situation, and not that Katie and I had actually been building a pretty strong attraction before our mutually agreed outing that night. “Uh, I think this might be a two-person job,” I admitted, chuckling nervously. Katie frowned. Courtney seemed to agree, at least. “Alright,” she said, turning to one of the burlier looking servers. She pointed toward Katie and instructed him to do something in Japanese. He barked out a one-syllable response and quickly strode over to my side. He gave me a gruff nod and made a flexing motion with his bicep, as if to pantomime to me that we were both strong enough to accomplish this on our own. I doubted it. Still, though, the two of us approached my beached manatee- er, whale of a date and I cleared my throat. “Hey,” I put on my most comforting smile, “do you think you could hold your arms out for me?” I looked to the muscular, silent guy next to me. “For us…” I corrected. “O-Okay,” she slowly lifted her arms and grunted a bit as she tried to stretch forward. Her legs were already spread apart at a pretty wide angle due to the immensity of her thunderous thighs, but she still tried to separate them even further so that the two of us could stand in between them to get closer for better leverage. It didn’t make a terrible amount of difference; even parted, Katie’s legs touched all the way down to her dimpled knees. Taking the server’s hand in her left and mine in her right, she sighed resolutely and prepared to attempt to shuffle forward and, hopefully this time, upward. “Okay!” the server asserted, showing that he did indeed know at least a bit of English. “Count to three,” he nodded again. I nodded back. “One, two,” the server counted down confidently, and on “three!” the two of us heaved, with Katie trying her best to launch herself forward. She didn’t budge. Well, her bottom half didn’t, at least. It remained glued to the floor, barely shifting, save for the constant slight jiggling that pretty much any movement on her part normally caused. We counted off to three and tried again, with a similar lack of success. It was like trying to pull an old stump out of the ground by what remained of its branches… I could practically feel my arms getting ready to be yanked out of their sockets. I mean, I could barely squat two hundred twenty pounds at the gym, there was no way I could handle all of this, even with a man who was clearly stronger than me assisting. Although we barely spoke the same language, I could tell by the bewildered look on his face that he must have felt the same. The man and I kind of just… looked at each other, not knowing whether to make another attempt or, hell, to knock down the restaurant walls and roll a construction crane in. “Okay,” Courtney stepped in, “how about this.” She crossed her arms again and furrowed her brow in focus. “Two on each arm and…” She paused for a moment, glancing at me and clearing her throat. “And then,” she added, trying her best not to make direct eye contact with Katie, “we probably need somebody to lift from the back, too…” I blanched a bit. Please don’t say that it should be me... “I guess it should be you,” Courtney said out of the side of her mouth, “just because its a little bit invasive.” “Yea, that’s fine,” Katie answered for me, having overheard. “Just… hurry up, please,” she added dejectedly, looking around quickly to see if she was still the center of attention. She was. At this point, the tears had stopped flowing freely but her eyes were still red and her makeup was a bit blotchy. She struggled for a few more moments, trying to raise her knees up and inch her feet as close to her center of mass as possible. “Okay,” she squeaked, “I think I’m ready.” Courtney nudged me in the arm and gestured for me to position myself behind my stranded date. I couldn’t help but notice the slightest sneer on her face, as though she was subtly enjoying some part of this as I took a loud, anxious gulp and nervously strolled past Katie’s hips to come face to face with her monstrous rear. It took me a few seconds… Katie, spread across the floor like that, sure did take up a lot of space. Katie wiped her eyes and tried to smile in my direction, hopeful that this entire embarrassing experience might be over soon with my help. I didn’t return the smile, I didn’t even return eye contact; I was a little too embarrassed. “Okay,” I tried to stretch my arms a little bit, having nearly strained them to the point of soreness with my first two attempts from up front. “So, should I grab her under the arms and… lift, or something?” I wasn’t entirely sure of the logistics of that… Katie had a LOT of ass protruding out from behind her, enough that I would have had to lean over in order to get any semblance of a decent grip around her under arms. From such an awkward position, there was no way that I would have the leverage to be really any help at all. “No,” Courtney clarified, “I mean you’ll probably need to get, you know, under there and…” she pantomimed a motion like she was trying to lift up a heavy sofa. “If that’s okay with you,” she added to Katie. Katie nodded quickly without looking up. That was likely for the better. Courtney’s sneer was creeping wider and wider across her face, to the point where I noticed her “pretending” to scratch the top part of her lip in order to hide the smirk she was now wearing. After the “show” that Courtney had given me earlier, I was sure that she felt as though this complete contrast was only making her look even more like the fairer, sexier candidate in my eyes. And, if she was thinking that way, then she was certainly right. Still, she seemed to be the one doing the most to rectify Katie’s seating mishap either way, even if her role was primarily relegated to directing the actions of the other men and, of course, myself. I looked down at Katie’s mammoth glutes and then back up at my woefully inadequately sized hands. It probably would have been smarter to have one person per cheek, maybe even two, but I didn’t want to make the suggestion, lest it embarrass Katie any further. The muscular server in front was joined by three others, two per each arm like Courtney had detailed, and, although I was sure that most of the restaurant was still awestruck at the disproportionately obese young woman still pinned to the ground in the midst of their evening meal, as the servers looked up to me to confirm that I was in position, I felt like all eyes were on me. I wasn’t anticipating this… I was going to have to slide my hands under Katie’s copious pounds of extra fluff and try somehow to get some sort of solid grip on all of that blubber. Courtney had managed to regain a straight face and looked to me, rolling her eyes just ever so perceptively and flashing me a polite work grin. “Alright,” she said, “they’re ready whenever you are.” I nodded and bent over into a squatting position, thinking about the sheer amount of physical contact that I was about to have to make with Katie’s squishy, sagging, fantastically fat ass. Hugging her felt… unique enough on its own, but this? I wasn’t feeling ready at all. ~~ I have an author page now! There's a TON of stuff over there that I haven't posted onto Curvage, and its constantly updating with new content, including chapters of this very story that haven't made their way onto here just yet (for reference, this is the first half of Chapter 11 and I'll be rolling out Chapters 13 and 14 later this week). If you want, you can view it right here: https://www.amazon.com/Shaq-Writer/e/B0872G5WW6%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share It's only a fledgling as of now, but check back in a week or two and there will be a downpour of original and commissioned stories that I'm currently in the process of wrapping up. Keep a lookout for some of them to appear in the Curvage Clips section as well, under "Stories". And as always, thanks for the feedback and support, and stay tuned for more
  11. Just a random setup that I typed up in a couple of hours after it popped into my head last night I've quite a bit of commission work to do before I can fully devote myself to this story, but I will TOTALLY get around to continuing it... eventually. Unless Sloth rears its ugly head 🤣
  12. It was quite a walk to get to Lucifer’s office, garden, palace, whatever one wanted to call it, especially for a woman as big as Gluttony was. She was far past the weight that any normal human could have carried; if she weren’t a mere corporeal personification of sin and just an actual person, she would have long since descended into immobility several hundred pounds ago. Instead, she waddled forward as vigorously as she could, knowing that her body was incapable of actually tiring or running out of stamina but barely being able to shift one titanic thigh over the other regardless, especially with her aforementioned belly in the way. She took up almost the entirety of the hallway that she waddled down, jiggling love handles occasionally brushing up against either wall or nearly knocking down some decorative plant, wobbling her way to the elevators at the end of the hall with as much speed as her body could manage, which wasn’t much at all. As one of the Deadly Sins on Earth, her vessel was engulfed with the very essence of gluttony itself… it was her celestial duty to expunge that essence onto unsuspecting mortals in order to drive them to temptation.The more successful the Sin was in this task, the less of that essence, that very drive, existed in themselves, having been disseminated amongst the weak-willed and the unsuspecting. For that reason, the Deadly Sins, at least when on a corporeal plane, existed as the inverse of whatever temptation they represented, as long as they were doing their jobs properly. Lust was actually rather chaste and withheld, Wrath was one of the most relaxed and easygoing demons anyone could hope to meet, and Greed and Envy were almost suffocating to be in a room with together, with how eager they always seemed to be to hand over the shirts on their own backs if it meant that it could assist with solving anyone else’s problems. With that in mind, Gluttony should have been as lean and trim as a supermodel, snacking on salads and granola bars if she ate anything at all, but she hadn’t exactly been doing well in the temptation department, which meant that all of the hunger and voracity that should have been expelled from her body was trapped inside of her, shaping her whims and wills and keeping her from concentrating on anything else but satisfying her stomach. Gluttony reached the solid gold, oversized elevators and pushed a single button. The doors opened, and she trudged herself in, about-facing so that she could select her boss’s floor. Floor 616… cute, but the devil wasn’t without his sense of humor. She hadn’t had to go up to his office in centuries, ever since her productivity began to trail off after the European Renaissance. Back then, she had had plenty of success with plumping up kings and magistrates, even popes, and had sported a much more lithe form as a result. The Guttony testing the weight limit of the elevator today was quite the contrast. Hoping that she was only in for a minor polite scolding but knowing that that would surely hardly be the case, she pressed the button resolutely, the elevator lurching to life and groaning with the exorbitant weight of its demonic burden.
  13. “And with my patented new weight loss supplement, even YOU can cut back on the calories and kick those cravings!” an overly excited voice on the television announced. “Oh, come on,” the rather lavish and oversized office’s one occupant muttered. “Are you kidding me?” She picked up an impressive cheeseburger, dripping with condiments slathered over at least three different kinds of meats and numerous other fillings, and devoured it in an inhuman number of gigantic bites. She changed the channel on her flat screen television, so grandiose in size that it took up half of an entire wall in her upscaled marble suite of an office. The commercial playing on this channel was just as aggravating. “On this brand new season of Trimming the Fat, we help twenty-four people from around the country achieve the thin bodies they’ve always dreamed of and teach them how to keep those pounds off! Join us at-“ Click! The woman had angrily shut the tv off, not being able to bear watching another second of yet another The Biggest Loser spinoff. “A freaking ‘nother one… Jesus Christ…” To the left, on the desk in front of her, a pristinely polished white phone began to ring. "No, no,” she looked at it, not bothering to even pick it up. “Not you guys, just a figure of speech, sorry.” The phone stopped ringing at once. The woman sighed, returning to her meal. She was a stress eater, whether she liked that about herself or not, and the second burger was just as large, just as impractically stuffed and just as tempting. She was about to attempt to stuff the whole thing into her mouth a different phone, this time a red one to her right, began ringing as well. This one, she couldn’t ignore. She gulped nervously. “H-hello,” she picked it up answered despondently, knowing she was about to be chewed out by her boss, “how can I help-“ “Cut the formalities, if you don’t mind terribly,” came the crisp, melodious, almost singsongy voice, so clear and present it was as if the speaker was actually in the room with her. “I’m terribly sorry, but I would like you in my office, please. Now.” The woman put the phone back on its receiver, her hand trembling as she did so. That didn’t bode well. Her boss didn’t sound happy at all to her. Well, truth be told, he technically always sounded cheerful. Maybe it was because he had always had the run of the whole place or because he had finally worked things out with his dad, but there were other, more subtle details and inflections that had to be payed attention to when trying to interpret her boss’s mood, inflections that currently implied that he was about a minute from literally raising Hell if the least productive of his six managers didn’t waddle her way down to his office for a stern talking to. She didn’t waste any time in rising from her desk to make her way down there, or, at least she wouldn’t have, if she were all that moblie. It took longer than a few moments for her to rise up from her impressively wide custom office chair. Her massive, drooping belly presented quite the obstacle, so large that it would have nearly touched the floor had it not been held up by the combination of her expertly tailored business suit and some sort of supernatural perkiness. Her fattened, sequoia-sized thighs were devoid of any visible muscle tone and were hardly suited to the task of supporting her vastly obese frame once she had actually managed to rise. She was quite a bit larger than any normal person had any right to be; luckily, she didn’t exactly fit the conventional definition of “normal” or “person”. Managing somehow to raise her ballooning body up under her own power, she took a moment to shuffle out from behind her desk, heavy footsteps echoing across the glistening, very expensive-looking tile. Adding to the noise of the thunderous footfalls was her unsatisfied tummy, letting loose a fierce rumble so loud she was worried that they’d be able to hear it all the way upstairs. The woman sighed, lifting up her flabby arms to tie her hair back into a neat bun. She would have to deal with her ceaseless, insatiable appetite later. She began plodding toward her office door and out into the hallway, taking a moment to straighten out her name tag pinned to her perky, pumpkin-sized breast. ‘Gluttony’ was all it said, in bold black letters.
  14. I was actually hoping for some assistance with finding an old Deviantart story that's one of my favorites. A middle-aged redheaded woman is a bare model for an art class and is dating the teacher. He owes a lot of money to some shady people and they end up putting a price on his head. The woman has a very, very fat ** dealer who ends up carrying the hit out by smothering him to death underneath her during sex. Does anyone know what I'm talking about?
  15. I stood up in shock, my mouth agape. The majority of the other patrons in the restaurant turned their heads towards the commotion. Looking around, I could already see numerous servers making their way over to our table. And, of course, the first person to reach our table was Ms Traffic Stopper herself, Courtney. “Holy crap,” she said, her face colored with shock. “What the heck happened?” Even though it was easy enough to piece together what had transpired. “Are you hurt, Miss?” I suppose that Katie was fortunate enough that she had adequate… “cushion”, as she called it, to soften the fall. But even if she wasn’t hurt physically, I was pretty sure that the emotional blow that resulted from being now too bottom heavy to both stand and sit was beyond what she could handle. She was about as red in the face as her deep mediterranean complexion allowed for, and the tears were welling in her eyes. “I- I’m fine,” she stammered, fully aware that she was making a huge scene. Other servers had gathered around her and a few of the other diners had stood up from their meals as well to get a better look at what had caused such a clamorous racket. There was a man off to my right taking off his glasses to wipe them clean so he could view the calamity more clearly and, behind me, I could hear the cruel snickering of a couple of teenage girls as they giggled and whispered to each other viciously about the schadenfreude taking place for their purview. I just stood there speechless. Katie was trying to rise to her feet on her own as quickly as possible, but sitting on a broken bench on the floor certainly presented more of a challenge than rising up from a normal sitting position. Stone-faced as I was, I actually didn’t blame the two girls behind me for laughing. Katie’s top half was wiggling side to side, left, then right, as she tried to get off of her wide butt and on to her feet, but her bottom half was barely shifting. The whole struggle looked comical. Her futile movements led to the legs on the left side of the bench snapping as well, her hip fat falling nearer to the floor with a resounding ‘plop’! Several of the employees were speaking to each other in hushed but agitated tones, gesticulating angrily between the girl stranded on the floor and each other. I’d watched enough anime throughout my life to know that they were speaking Japanese, but had no idea what they were saying. One of the older, sterner looking men turned to Courtney, tapping her lightly on the arm and whispering something to her in his foreign, melodious tongue. Courtney frowned but nodded. “Ma’am, is everything okay?” she asked a clearly not okay Katie in English. “Any splinters, or…” “No, I’m fine,” Katie looked around at all of the different eyes that were on her, looking every bit like she wanted to just shrivel away and disappear on the spot. “I just-“ she twisted and contorted on the ground a few more times, but still to no avail. She flashed me a pleading look, lips trembling, before she glanced down at her own lower body, the cause of her embarrassing predicament. “I don’t,” she sniffled, tears of embarrassment already rolling down her delicate cheeks, head still hung low in shame, “I don’t think I can get up by myself…”
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