Jump to content

jarlewski

Members
  • Content Count

    43
  • Joined

  • Last visited

2 Followers

About jarlewski

  • Rank
    On The First Rung

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Male

Recent Profile Visitors

The recent visitors block is disabled and is not being shown to other users.

  1. jarlewski

    Stardew Valley

    I keep getting dragged away from working on it due to Adult Life, but I'm going to put out a beta as soon as I'm done writing all of the romance-able characters.
  2. jarlewski

    Squish

    Thank you! I appreciate the support.
  3. jarlewski

    Squish

    Whenever I get frustrated with my other project, I switch back to writing this, so, yeah, probably. We're like two updates from the ending anyway, so I might as well.
  4. jarlewski

    Stardew Valley

    Decided to try something different for lots of personal reasons, and now I'm about 70% done with a mod to Stardew Valley with curvy/fat ladies as the majority of the townspeople. Attached some images, and I can post YAML files, if anyone is into this sort of thing.
  5. jarlewski

    Squish

    Back in the moment, Fiona let Ethan's words echo in her mind as she crawled up out of the chair to her feet. The room had warmed considerably since she got home, and that meant that it was far less of a priority to ditch her ripped scrubs for her sweats. But before she could decide what to do next, she noticed the uncapped whipped cream canister standing on the table. She forgot to pop it back into the fridge after devouring her pies, possibly because Ethan had been so on top of those types of things lately. Not that she was intentionally making him clean up after her, but he had been enabling her gluttony in little ways for some time now, and it had all become a sort of routine. "Whatever," she said with a shrug. The best way to clean up food was to make sure there was nothing left to leave out. Fiona picked up the can and sprayed it right into her mouth, gulping down cream over and over again, until the nozzle sputtered and tossed white blobs onto her lips. She took a minute to catch her breath, feeling her chest rise and fall heavily, with the hope that Ethan would walk in and catch her there, stuffed and ready for him. The rhythmic motion of her full belly turned her on, like a good habit gone bad, and she slipped her hand past her pudge under her waistband. Warm and wet, but no Ethan. Fiona stood there, listening to the sound of her deep inhales and long exhales, feeling the movement of her middle, waiting for something to interrupt what was about to happen. And yet, nothing did. No Ethan. No snarky secretaries. No disapproving mother. Just her. As a response to the silence, Fiona took off her ripped shirt, tossed her bra onto the chair and with one forceful motion, took down her bottoms and panties, leaving her naked but for her warm, blue socks. "Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." The feeling had her. She made her way into the kitchen with a sort of sashay that wobbled her gut and heaved her ass from side to side. A walk that, ever since her recent gain, Ethan described as "an engorged lioness stalking her prey." Which Fiona thought was funny, in retrospect, but the comment didn't stop her from purposely doing it as often as she could, because it made her feel sexy and powerful while also somehow powerless. She had given in, as she had so many times before and would so many times more in the future, which only made the walk from the living room to the kitchen feel that much more incredible. The plan for the night had been to order takeaway, since the fridge was nearly empty in preparation for the move out, but Ethan made sure there was still enough around to satisfy her cravings until they bought snacks for the ride out. Fiona guzzled down the remainder of the heavy cream, tossed the carton in the trash and started on what was left of a pumpkin pie. From off the kitchen table, she snatched the remainder of a bag of sour candies, tucked some holiday snack mix under her arm, pressed the side of the tin against her face to allow her to lick the pie filling as she walked, and strutted into the bedroom. If Ethan wasn't around, at least she could climb under the warm covers and stuff herself until she passed out again. In the darkness, Fiona dropped the bags onto the bed and let the metal tin clatter to the floor as she practically inhaled the last three bites. All she could focus on was how good it felt to eat, how good it felt to turn that delicious pie into luscious fat. She threw back her hair and gasped for air as she rubbed the sides of her belly with a circular motion that made her wobble. It was a heavenly rush made mundane due to her recent behavior, but it still felt amazing. After a deep inhale to get her mind right, Fiona regained her composure and flicked on the lights. On the bed, under her snacks, was a dress left spread out on the top sheet. A floral print dress that Ethan had gotten her at the end of summer on a whim, even though she swore she would only wear it that one time to try it on. It was the source of a minor argument between them, with her telling him not to buy it because it was way too big for her, and him, being Ethan, as stubborn as ever, insisting he get it for her. He must have found it while packing and maybe left it out as a joke, she thought. I mean, it must be a joke, because there's no way she could even get it past her boobs now. Fiona laughed. "Fuck it," she said to the dress with a smile. Fiona grabbed the dress off of the bed and slipped it on around her ankles. With a grunt, she tugged it up over her thighs against the bottom of her ass, where it met considerable resistance. Each movement jiggled all of her bits, which, given how fat and full she was, started to feel uncomfortable quickly. She slammed her palm on her dresser, looking for respite as much as she needed the stability. And if it wasn't for the pain from her in her tits and stomach, the experience would have been an intensely pleasurable one. Maybe Ethan had intended for her to dress up in it before she spent the day binging. Or maybe he really was telling the truth about not noticing how much she had gained so much so quickly. Fiona reconsidered the attempt, grabbed her extra bra from the dresser and tried again to see how much of herself she could stuff into the summer dress before she (or it) gave up. With a series of slow, forceful tugs, she managed to get the fabric up over her giant ass and took another break to pour some holiday mix in her mouth. Maybe she couldn't make the dress into anything more than skirt at this point, but there was no sense depriving herself while she fussed with it. About a minute later, with a mouth full of salty, sweet snacks, Fiona managed to get the dress up over her wide stomach, where it would seemingly go no further. Each tug produced no results, except for the sound of the dress giving up against her weight. Which, as far as Fiona was concerned, was good enough for now. She collapsed back onto the bed with a smirk, retiring to her original plan of lazy gluttony.
  6. jarlewski

    What is physically possible?

    Yeah, unless it's sci-fi or magical weight gain, something to consider is that gaining weight costs money, and in turn, it's not always possible for someone to gain 100 pounds rapidly/consistently. Maybe think about it this way - if a 20-something with an office job decides to eat a few extra donuts each week, that could mean a pretty noticeable weight gain. Going from 1700 calories a day to 2400 calories a day is about 15 Oreos or 3 donuts. Hell, that's less than one 2L bottle of Coke. But 2400 calories a day is about what it takes to maintain your weight around 250 pounds. To gain weight as you get fatter, you're looking at consistently eating 2,800 - 3,500 calories a day. The average American lady eats about 1,800 calories a day... so that's 38 extra Oreos a day, every day, in addition to their usual diet. So, yeah, it's possible to do a lot of things, but if you want to write an authentic story about natural weight gain, my tips would be to (a) consider that it takes more time/energy/money to do it than you ever imagined and (b) date someone that wants to gain weight. Even the most dedicated person is going to gain/lose/maintain at an unpredictable rate, because life happens.
  7. jarlewski

    Squish

    Thank you. I'm trying my best to finish this before the end of the year. It's close.
  8. jarlewski

    Squish

    The apartment was cold and dark, with only a few streaks of light coming in from the street. Outside, Fiona fumbled with her keys and tried to open the door while holding her backpack and a grease-stained bag from McDonald's. With a click and a thunk, the door swung open to reveal a bunch of stacked boxes, but no Ethan. "Babe? You home?" Fiona called out. No reply came, so she dropped her backpack by her desk and stretched, raising the bag of food up over her head. As the scent of the apple pies drifted past her nose, her belly flubbed up above her waistband again, exposing soft flesh to the cold air. A chill ran up her back, giving everything a good shake as she tugged her shirt down over her stomach. Fiona poked her head around into the hallway, giving one last look to see if Ethan was around, before turning up the thermostat and bouncing toward the kitchen. Originally, Fiona had planned to give Ethan a bit of a surprise, a special treat for the both of them after her last day of work, by picking up two burgers and six apple pies on her way home. But the traffic was bad, and the trip was a little longer than usual, so only four apple pies had made it. Which was, by her estimate, still enough to have some fun with some food and foreplay, except for the fact that Ethan was now nowhere to be found. Fiona tacked out a message on her phone. "Babe where are you?" Then, she jammed her phone into her tight shirt pocket and grabbed a bottle of soda and some whipped cream out of the fridge. Everything else in the living room seemed to be either covered in books or boxes, so Fiona dumped her snacks onto Ethan's reading table and plopped down into his chair. With the heat on and her feet up, she uncapped the soda and began to chug straight from the bottle. Fiona used her free hand to check her phone, but after a minute, there was still nothing. No message. No dots. Totally unlike Ethan, but maybe he had to run out to get more moving supplies or something. Fiona mentally shrugged and figured she'd start without him. She began with placing the remaining four pies on her huge thighs, leaning back and spraying a generous amount of whipped cream into her mouth. The first pie went down quickly, as she punctuated each bite by topping it off with a little more whipped cream, with the empty box tossed on the coffee table. The second was more of a struggle, since it was actually her fourth, in addition to the burgers and the celebration donuts. Her belly, taut and firm, pressed hard against her scrub top, to the point of where her fat was spilling out underneath it. For the final two, Fiona held the pies together, sprayed some whipped cream between them and smushed them into an improvised sandwich that she could cram into her mouth. And with a grunt and a few deep breaths, she did just that. Cheeks packed with apple pie and cream, Fiona leaned forward a little to reach for her soda. But all that managed to accomplish was to squeeze her swollen gut against her shirt, busting the left seam open against her side chub, exposing pudge all the way up to her white undershirt. She swallowed, exasperated, and sighed. "I guess it's a good thing it was my last day." Fiona looked down to survey the damage, instinctively massaging her belly with both hands. Her round middle, now stuffed to maximum capacity, had burst free and was sitting heavy in her lap, with a familiar ache that meant she had gone for too much too fast. She rocked back and forth twice, but the pain made her think better of it, and instead, she settled down into the comfy chair. It was, after all, quite pleasant to enjoy a full belly and a warm apartment after a long day of work... - An hour later, Fiona wobbled awake from a hazy dream. She looked around, trying to make sense of what was going on, and realized that Ethan still wasn't home. Each breath, heavy and warm, inflated her midsection, giving her a pleasurable sensation and lulling her back to sleep. But before another nap claimed her, she reached for her phone. It had slid down off her belly in her sleep, and was now pinned between the chair and her right hip. With a grunt, Fiona tried to move herself to the side, but all that resulted was an extended tear that ran right up the side of her shirt, completely ruining it. She sighed in response, remembering a conversation she had with Ethan a few days earlier. It started when her phone chirped, displaying an e-mail from an office near their new apartment. "They want me to interview in person when we get there," Fiona said. "That's great, babe!" Ethan replied. He was, again, packing up whatever they wouldn't need in their last week before the move, while she worked on finishing the pizza they had for dinner. But when he turned around to look at her, she wasn't smiling. "What's wrong?" "I'm just worried." "About what? I thought that you said that everything was great with that place after the phone interview?" Fiona winced. "Yeah, but... I don't know." "Babe, you don't have to take it. We'll be okay for at least a month, and there's other stuff out there." "No, I mean, that's not it. The job would be great." "But?" "I don't know if I should work there. Especially since it's a block from our new place." "Why?" Ethan asked. His look of confusion seemed sincere enough to Fiona that he really didn't get it. Fiona took a swig of her beer, finishing the bottle. "The exercise, babe. Being on my feet. At least in the facility, I have to be up and about all of the time. Doing paperwork all day in a office might not be the best thing for me, especially if it's that close to home." "Oh." Ethan started chewing his lip as he walked into the kitchen, mindlessly performing a task that had become routine as of late. He took another beer out of the fridge, popped off the cap on the bottle opener next to the stove and placed it down in front of Fiona. "We could walk after work." She pointed at the beer. "That would be my third." "Huh?" Ethan snapped out of his daze. He was too busy thinking about solving her problem to consider how he might be contributing to it. "Thank you, babe." Fiona took a sip of the beer. "Are you sure you're okay handling all of this packing by yourself? You seem stressed." He smiled. "I've dreamed about this for a long time, Bee. I'm just all in my head, trying not to freak out because it's really happening." Fiona tapped her lips. "Don't freak out, babe. We're going to be okay." He kissed her and went back across the room to resume fiddling with a roll of tape and a box that would inevitably be labeled as 'miscellaneous.' "I just don't want you to take a job you don't want to do. I did that for too long. Okay?" Ethan said. "I won't. I'm just worried too is all." "About what?" Knowing what she wanted to say but unsure of how to say it, Fiona opted instead to jam the rest of the last slice of pizza into her mouth. She reclined back, putting her free hand on her belly as she curled up. Ethan shot a look over at her, concerned. Feeling like she had to say something, Fiona mumbled with a full mouth, "I might not lose the winter weight." Ethan ran his hand through his hair. "Is that what you want?" She only shrugged as a reply. "Babe, if you want to lose some weight, we can do that." Fiona swallowed. "I'm just saying." Ethan tossed the packing supplies on the couch and kneeled in front of Fiona. Her round face, puffed out from weeks of holiday treats, framed by her thick, shoulder-length hair, was a few inches from his, close enough to see the details in the creases where her eyelids met her chubby cheeks. He smiled and placed his hand against the side of her neck. Fiona giggled and sunk back into her chair. "Cold!" He laughed. "I'm sorry." "You so aren't." "I am. Here." He put his hands in between her massive thighs. "Help me make them warmer." She squished her legs together and wobbled her lower half for him. The chair creaked softly under her weight as she shimmied, just loud enough for Ethan to hear it. Yet another thing getting too small for her, he thought. "Thanks, babe," He continued, "But you've been doing... great with... accidentally gaining these last few weeks. It's been... " He slid his right hand up her thigh. "It's been fun. But if you're worried about something, you can tell me. We're starting something new, together, and we both deserve to be happy, right?" Fiona smiled and stared down at her belly. "We'll be stable, and that's good enough for me." "You know that's not what I mean. I'm going to keep going until we can do better than just surviving. I mean happy. Like, happy happy." "Nobody gets to be happy all of the time." "I love you too, Emo Kid." "And you know what I mean." Ethan chuckled. "I do, I'm sorry. But I'm saying that I want you to have the life you want, and I don't want you to be worried. Maybe not happy, but content." At a glance, Fiona appeared to be the dictionary definition of content. Six slices of pizza and two beers in, she was testing the fabric of her sweats, to the point of resembling a bulging pudge ball that was gently placed in Ethan's reading chair and allowed to expand to fill it. She was soft. She was warm. She was fat. Or as it seemed - content. Fiona laid her hands on his wrists. "Do you know what habituation is?" "Are we about to have a conversation about neurological processes?" "Maybe." "Then, yes. It's how the mind adapts to novel events." "Yes. So, when I first started gaining, you set up a feedback loop for me. The more I ate, the more I grew, and the more I grew, the happier you were, so I would eat more." Ethan made his nervous face. "I mean..." "No, babe. It's okay. I'm trying to work through this with you. We're just talking." "I know, but..." "Listen, if I'm too wide to fit into one seat on a plane, that's partly your fault. You don't have to be sorry or ashamed of that, but it is the truth. I never thought I'd want to be this big before you." "Okay." Ethan whispered, before he swallowed her words, hard. "No, listen. Babe. Babe?" "Yeah?" "Listen to me - I wanted something different, and together, we turned some of my bad habits into a major part of our relationship. We worked it into our sex life. We worked it into our friendships. We worked food into a lot of what we do together, because my new comfort zone is filled with snacks. And it takes more for me to feel... like, not full, but... satisfied. Like, I've wanted more ever since I got more. It's a rush for me." "Is that okay?" "It feels amazing, and I love it, but I keep wanting more." Ethan tried to keep a straight face in response to that, and it cracked Fiona up. "Come on, you poop." "What?" "You're doing that stupid boyfriend deer-in-the-headlights thing instead of responding honestly." "Me being confused can be me being totally honest." Fiona shifted into more of an upright position and grabbed his wrists. "Okay, so, feel this." She put Ethan's hands up her hoodie, under her heavy boobs. "I had, like, let's call it a holiday growth spurt. I broke my favorite leather jacket, because while the rest of me got wide kind of evenly, someone didn't give my chest the message." Ethan shook his hands a little, just enough to see her tits jiggle under the fabric. "That's obvious, babe." "Okay, yeah, but do you know what it's like to go to the gym with huge boobs?" "Do you?" Fiona rolled her eyes. "Uh, shut up. What I'm trying to say is that I'm never going to lose this weight unless I exercise, because this is my new normal. And if I don't lose the weight, I have to keep active to not gain more." "Because of habituation." "Yes. Like, imagine if I was purposely gaining weight, and all I did was sit here every day." Ethan smiled, but didn't laugh. "I think I can imagine that." Fiona bit her lip and looked away from him. "If I did that, I would have to stop, eventually. Because of my health. Because I don't want to be immobile. But it might be really hard to stop." She pushed his hands down off her boobs onto her wide belly. "In theory." "In theory," he repeated. "Yeah. So, if I had another job where I was on my feet a lot and kept active, I'd be able to stay healthy and that might help me maintain my weight, because I'd have to do it. I'd have to." "And if you worked in a small office near our apartment, that would be bad." Fiona pushed his hands into her warm, soft stomach chub. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I'm already close to needing new scrubs." "Again?" "Again." Ethan grabbed her belly fat with his right hand and began rubbing with his right. He leaned over Fiona, moving closer for a kiss, but it wasn't close enough for her to meet his lips. She tried to stifle a groan, only for her to exhale hard from her nose. He lingered for a moment, waiting for her to say something. Fiona figured that she was caught, that he would launch into an interrogation about why she couldn't make it that last inch, why she kept growing even after the holidays, and it would be another awkward argument between them about something she wasn't entirely clear about herself. But Ethan said nothing. And he did nothing. He merely waited to see what she would do next, while he ran his fingers over her swollen middle. Fiona leaned forward once more, but she still couldn't sit up enough to kiss him. "Come closer," she begged. "Always." Ethan gave Fiona a hard kiss, running his fingers up her sides, moving across her rolls. When he had his hands against the sides of her boobs, he put his face against her neck and whispered, "You are the brightest star in my sky, Fiona Bee. Do what makes you happy, and I'll always be there for you." -
  9. jarlewski

    Squish

    Thank you. I keep getting distracted from finishing, for one reason or another, but since I'm now writing the last chapter, I'm hoping to finish it.
  10. jarlewski

    Squish

    "Shit need to go love you" Fiona finished tapping out her message and quickly jammed her phone into the front pocket of her scrubs. Her post-lunch belly pressed hard against the fabric, making it a tight squeeze, but she was able to hide it away and begin cleaning up after herself before the storage room door opened. With a swipe, two empty bottles of meal replacement shakes fell into the trash, along with the wrappers left from Fiona's lunch. But as she reached on top of the fridge to grab the melting cups of ice cream, the door opened behind her. Only to reveal Brittany, blushing and bloated, with two cups of ice cream in her hands. "I've been looking all over for you," she told Fiona. "You didn't think to check our usual hiding spot?" Brittany huffed and offered an ice cream cup to Fiona. "Well, it's your last day. I figured you'd be, I don't know, like, out and about." Fiona laughed. "Nope. I'm in and not about that." She turned around, swapped the cold ice cream cup from Brittany with one of the three melting on the fridge, and got them both a spoon. Brittany immediately tore the lid off the plastic and dug in, while Fiona made a small opening and began to sip while she watched. The two women had become quite a sight since the summer, with Brittany plumped up well into the plus-sizes and Fiona on the brink of exploding out of her clothes thanks to her rapid gain plan. Each sported a visible belly outline across the front of their scrubs, complimented by the telltale ridges of panty lines where their fat asses met taut scrub bottoms. But where Fiona had kept her extreme curves, Brittany had gone globular. Her whole middle had formed a spare tire that seemed to be kept firmly in place between a heavy pair of boobs that rested on her belly and hips that made the Puerto Rican beauty glad that her work uniform had an elastic waistband. "How did your date go?" asked Fiona. "Mmm. So good. He took me to Cheesecake Factory and for a second dessert that place with the little glasses..." Fiona gestured with her spoon and swallowed the last of her ice cream. "Cake shooters." "Yah, yah, that place. And then we went into the mall, because, get this, he ordered me a dress." "Really? Did he ask for your size?" Brittany, with cheeks stuffed with ice cream, gave a noncommittal head motion. After a few seconds and a hearty gulp, she replied, "No, he just got three of the same dress in different sizes." "Smart guy." Fiona laughed as she snatched another ice cream cup off the fridge. But as she spun around, her pendulous behind bumped the counter and sent a ripple straight through her soft core outward to her doughy middle. The wide bulge that was her belly rarely caused her such trouble, unless she was food drunk and swollen from stuffing, whereas her big butt, well, that was another story. In the past month, her ass had grown so significantly that Ethan had started to complain about her right butt-cheek rhythmically bouncing against his left leg and disrupting his stride whenever they went for walks. Her elegant solution was to simply lean into him from time to time, smushing her side fat into his crotch. It was fun, wobbly and had the added benefit of leaving him speechless for a moment. Fiona thought about it as she poured the second cup of melted ice cream into her mouth. Her expanded posterior was what she had wanted since the beginning of her gain - a giant, fat booty to pop out of the bottom of her panties and sit atop her thunder thighs. Sure, Ethan had become accustomed to her other needs, with morning and night sessions of sucking on her tits as he played with her fat, but the added pounds that drifted down to puff out her sizable behind felt like they were just for her. Or at least as just for her as they could be, given that she was now almost twice as wide as Ethan. "I mean, it sounds like he's a man that knows who carries the weight in the relationship," added Fiona, as she pitched another empty plastic container into the trash. Brittany smiled. "He is really something. I can't believe I was worried." Fiona stifled a laugh as she opened her third cup of ice cream. "Like I said, some guys like knowing that you're comfortable. It gives them a sense of relief." Especially with that junk in your trunk, she continued, thinking to herself. Brittany didn't exactly have the same amount to throw around as Fiona, but it was obvious to see that their hangout sessions had made an impact. The previously chubby CNA had grown right out of her Kim K jeans into plus-sized leggings and maxi skirts. Not that any wardrobe changes could do much to hide the girl's ever-expanding thighs and that giant gut. Fiona wiped the corner of her mouth and added, "And it's not like he doesn't already have the dress in a bigger size." The two ladies shared a laugh, followed by a hug. "I'm going to miss you, Fiona." "I'll miss you too. But you can always call me on break. We'll share a snack in different zip codes." As the girls separated, Brittany looked down and went a little red in the face again. Fiona's belly had bounced up and broke free of its scrub bottom constraints. But before either could say anything, Fiona calmly slid her chub back down underneath her shirt and tight waistband before continuing to sip her melted ice cream. Maybe it would have been an awkward moment a month ago, but now, she treated it as nothing more than an inconvenient side effect to her rapid gain. Confidence, maturity and the sticky, sweet taste of chocolate had beat out remorse and shame. Fiona knew what she wanted, and it no longer matter who knew it. But that's not to say that Brittany did. In response, she grabbed a handful of her belly fat and sighed. "Yeah, until tía has me cut back on the ice cream." Fiona snorted. "Tell her that fat's in this season. And hey, it's America - everyone wants a badonkadonk." Brittany patted her butt. "Glad I fit in for once." Fiona responded with a smirk and a gentle hip bump. "Yeah, girl. You got it." And it's not like she was the only one. During their last couples dinner with Vanessa and Bill, the quartet had cracked open some wine left from New Year's and drunkenly rambled about what made them most happy about the coming year. It gave Ethan a chance to stand up on his chair and tell them how much Fiona meant to him, but it also meant that Bill could sheepishly admit, in so many words, that he was glad for his wife's holiday gain. Vanessa was pushing a solid 240, all thanks to Fiona's guidance and a few friendly nudges. - Shortly after returning from the city, Fiona had told Vanessa the news over lunch. While Ethan was busy with work and the move, she had planned to gorge herself until either her weight plateaued or time ran out. Vanessa wasn't at all shocked by Fiona's confession, but she still had quite a few questions to ask as the pair devoured four shared meals and two desserts. In time, the questions turned into curiosity, and intentionally or not, Vanessa started to take over where Ethan left off. During their first night together at the apartment, Fiona chugged three quarters of a cake batter weight gain shake before she collapsed, bloated and moaning, onto Vanessa's lap. They took turns rubbing Fiona's belly until she fell asleep, when Vanessa tempted fate and finished the rest of the shake. It was heavy and delicious, a small taste of Fiona's usual routine. Not enough to encourage substantial growth, yet just enough to cause Vanessa to wake Fiona up for a drive to get them some late night snacks. From then on, Vanessa encouraged Fiona's overindulgence the best way she knew how - friendly competition. Burrito Tuesdays became a regular thing again, and for the first time in years, the two even exchanged clothing. Or, more like Vanessa casually borrowed a few things once she realized that all of her fat clothes were getting too snug, and Fiona's response was to double-down on her expansion adventure. The weight gain powder was gone by Christmas, so the ladies took a trip to the mall to buy two more containers, only to spend most of the day sampling what the food court had to offer. And there was even that one night at Vanessa's when they got drunk watching Jessica Jones and had an impromptu taco eating competition. Fiona won, as always, but Vanessa did so well that she kept on eating even though she burst a seam on her pair of Fiona's hand-me-down pajama pants. By the time their couples dinner rolled around, Vanessa had shifted from friendly feeder to unexpected feedee. Her face had gone almost circular, with plump cheeks and an unmistakable double chin. Each of her thighs was now bigger than her waist was in high school, and her butt had positively ballooned, to the point where it would have made Fiona jealous, if only she wasn't so focused on her own posterior accomplishments. The thick sweater Vanessa wore stretched to fit her plump upper arms, but beyond that, it seemed to fit well everywhere else. Fiona took it as an obvious sign that Vanessa wasn't in denial about her growth, and that maybe there was more to come throughout the rest of the winter. When they finally had a private moment away from the boys, Fiona tried to strike up a conversation about the possibility, but Vanessa shrugged off any serious discussion. Bill was happy enough with her giant ass, and no one dared get her a gym subscription for the new year, so that was that. Since then, the ladies had swapped snaps and talked on the phone, but neither had time for another dinner date. It wasn't until Vanessa stopped by the previous night to drop off some cardboard boxes that Fiona got a good look at her growing friend. Specifically, her bulging belly. When Ethan and Vanessa dropped the moving supplies onto the couch, Fiona went in for a hug that quickly devolved into poking and prodding. There couldn't have been more than an extra five pounds there, but it all seemed to accumulate right between Fiona's probing fingers. Ethan sighed and went into the bedroom to give them some space, while Vanessa tried to smack away the unwanted attention. "Could you not?" Fiona simply giggled as a reply. Vanessa groaned. "Fine, but this is only because you won't see me again for another two months." Fiona bolted upright, keeping her tiny hands clamped to Vanessa's side fat. "A month, tops." "Dude, you'll be lucky to be mostly unpacked in a month." "All you need is the couch to sleep on!" Vanessa gestured to the futon. "Yeah, my fat ass isn't fitting on that." "I'll get you an air mattress." Vanessa hugged Fiona. "Girl, just get where you need to be. When it's not fucking freezing out, then we'll talk about how I'm going to drive all the way to the city to crash on a inflatable pool toy." "I'm going to miss you." "I'm going to miss you too." Fiona held back tears, closed her eyes and squeezed her friend as tight as she could. At least until Vanessa made what sounded like a noise of disapproval. During their embrace, Vanessa's stomach had flubbed up out of her leggings and poked out from under her sweater. Fiona longed to grab that soft, white pudge, but given how embarrassed Vanessa looked as she hefted up her pants and put her fat back into containment, she instead decided to go into the kitchen and do what she did best. "Want a shake?" Fiona asked. - The pleasant memory fell from Fiona's attention as she dropped a stack of binders on the counter of the nurses' station. She tugged down hard on the front of her top, hoping that it would keep her contained for the final half hour of her shift, even though she was starting to feel a bit of a chill on the underside of her chub. It wasn't immediately obvious if that was because of her boobs pulling the fabric up or her swollen stomach pushing it out, so for good measure, she gave it a second tug as she went to check on what everyone was doing. On the other side of the counter, three of the older nurses were talking something over with Deirdre. As Fiona moved around to see what they were huddled around, the group stood up and broke into celebration, revealing a giant pile of fancy donuts. One of the nurses hugged Fiona, while another handed her a sealed envelope. Fiona thanked them both, and before she could take another step, Deirdre handed her a small plate with two donuts stacked on it. "Thank you for being you," she told Fiona. "We're all going to miss you." Fiona teared up and hugged Deirdre. "Thank you for being there for me." "Of course, dear. You are worthy of all of the love and kindness in the world." "Thank you. You too. But, I mean... thank you." The impromptu going-away party continued as other nurses came and went, wishing Fiona well as she munched on both donuts and went back for seconds. But before long, a pointy finger jabbed into Fiona's back fat and caused her to spin around before she could think about what had happened. What greeted her was a scowl and an unexpected sight. It was, after all, her mother. Her angry, judging mother, come to mess up what was left of her afternoon. But Fiona never expected to see that the tiny woman had, well, gotten a little less tiny in the time that she had been avoiding her. A layer of fat had plumped out her face, producing chubby cheeks and a double chin to match. Her supervisor's uniform looked like a sausage casing, pulled taut over every inch of her chunky figure. And while no one would dare call her plus-sized, Fiona's mother had certainly eaten her way into a look that could be best described as "severe allergic reaction." "Where have you been?" asked Fiona's mother. Fiona tried to look casual as she swallowed the last bite of her third donut, but her eyes remained wide open. "I've been passing on everything to other staff, so that the facility won't be any less effective after I leave." "You have not left yet. You are still here." "Yes, I know. I punch out in a few minutes." "So, you think the best use of your time is eating?" Without any hesitation, Fiona's mother leaned forward, extended her arm and poked the girl's wide belly. The finger sunk in a little farther than either expected, and Fiona balled up her free hand into a fist before it was withdrawn. Fiona clenched her teeth and tried to smile. "As I said, I was aiding staff by discussing what would happen after I left. Management, as you know, got the two weeks notice they requested, and all of my paperwork is perfect." Her mother said nothing. The two stood in silence, waiting for one another to make a move, before her mother finally uttered, "Perfect?" But before Fiona could reply that, yes, all of her paperwork had been checked, double-checked and filed correctly, her mother grabbed a chair with a messed up wheel from the nurses' station and shoved it towards Fiona. With a gesture to the chair, she continued, "Show me." Anger flooded Fiona's mind. She wanted to scream or swing, or both. But that's the way it always went. Nothing was ever good enough. There was always some reason to fight. And it was expected that Fiona would stand there and take it, until she snapped and did something that made her feel like she was a crazy monster, lost to rage and fear. Fiona exhaled, hard. "Of course." She sat down on the busted chair, placed her plate on the desk and began to type. All of her reports were there, as promised, with not a one incorrectly coded. Fiona gestured to the screen, only to have her mother brush her arm away while she went in for a closer look. But before the situation could be defused, her mother, possibly off-balance due to her own holiday indulgences, stumbled and grabbed Fiona's shoulder. Their combined weight plus the impact caused the office chair to let out a hiss and sink to the floor, which, in turn, caused Fiona to lean back violently, snapping the wheel off the chair. Her mother tumbled onto her, bouncing past her boobs and ending up with a face full of belly and thighs. It was certainly enough of a commotion to get the other nurses' attention. Fiona's mother pushed off the broken chair and stood up with a snarl. "Look what you did." "I'm sorry that happened. It was an accident." Fiona kept her voice low and slowly made her way to her feet. But as she adjusted her shirt, her mother gestured at her too closely, flicking her in the boob. "That is no accident. I wore the same scrubs through all of med school. You can't get through a month without getting a bigger size. You think you can destroy the things where I work and run off with your boyfriend? He won't want you. You are fat. You are going to come back here and beg me to work again." Fiona took a deep breath and relaxed her hands. None of this was about her weight. Or, if it was, her weight didn't really matter. What upset her mother was that she was leaving, to find a better life, to find her happily ever after ending with Ethan, and the argument was already over. Things had changed a little when Fiona had moved away from home, but now, there was no disputing that her mother had lost all control of the situation, had lost all control over her. Neither of them could deny it. And this would be their last fight about it. Fiona let her muscles relax and shrugged. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but I love who I am. And I love my boyfriend. If you want to talk about this at another time, that's fine, but I'm not going to do this in front of everyone with you." Her mother snorted. "You cannot tell me when we talk." "Mom, I love you, but you're wrong. And yes, I can. " The two stood there for a moment, in silence, until the older nurse came over to remind Fiona that it was time for her to clock out. Fiona thanked the woman and turned back to her mother, who had since thrown her arms across her chest and crossed them tight. No hug today, Fiona thought. But maybe things will be better in the future. Fiona walked off to gather her things and leave for the day, while her mother grabbed the abandoned donut and stormed off in the opposite direction to her office. By the time Fiona snapped back to reality, she was almost out of the building. All that was left to do was to walk past Carol, the receptionist. As Fiona reached for the door, Carol looked up from her magazine and said, "You look look nice today, Fiona." "Hey, Carol?" Fiona replied. The receptionist grinned and dramatically placed her magazine down on her desk. "Yes?" "Kiss my fat ass."
  11. jarlewski

    Squish

    You mentioned a while ago that you enjoyed reading it, and I forgot if I sent you a thank you at the time, so I went with working it into the story. That, and your stuff is awesome. So, thank you.
  12. jarlewski

    Squish

    Thank you, again. That's really too kind. I wish I could say that there was a lot of personal investment, but since I've only written the one thing, it feels less important to me. I've spent more time playing games on my phone than I have writing, which made it easy to give up on. But that's, frankly, a shitty way to look at it, and so, I'm here to write the three final parts I had outlined. And since I've already posted one of the three, I hope it'll be easy for me to keep going and finish the other two. (If, for whatever reason, there needs to be more, I can add an epilogue, but the Ethan part of the story is almost over. I know most people will never read this story for anything but Fiona, but hey, whatever.) The relationship intermingling was hard. Maybe finishing this will be a good thing; maybe not. I'm trying not to overthink it.
  13. jarlewski

    Squish

    Thanks. I'm not much of a writer, so I'm pretty glad to hear that I don't suck at it. The reason why I came back to this story is because I've never written anything else. I started this with a rough outline and kept going once people seemed to like it, without much thought put into the fact that I practically wrote a novella (it'll probably finish up at about 22k words) without trying. That, and well, I was dating someone at the time that encouraged me to write about my feelings regarding feederism and the weird disconnect between feeling very powerful and confident in the bedroom but not elsewhere. Both Fiona and Ethan know what they're doing sexually, and they go after that, but he's an anxious mess and she's an angry fussbudget. It was cool to run with that while she was in my life, but she broke up with me, and that put an end to my writing. I went on and did other things, but after a while, it seemed dumb to not finish the one thing I've written. I don't know if I'll write more, but I'd like to finish the next two parts of this story. If I do write more, I hope it'll get the theme and tone right, but I guess that's a personal preference thing. (i really don't know; this is new to me, despite having a year to think about it.)
  14. jarlewski

    Squish

    Ethan woke to the sound of a vibrating phone. He slapped his hand on his bed-stand, only to swing at nothing but air. No lamp. No alarm clock. No table. He opened one eye and looked around. Their mattress was surrounded by cardboard boxes and a conspicuous lack of furniture. His sense of confusion lingered for a few more seconds until Ethan remembered that they were moving everything to the new place over the weekend. He was supposed to be packing. He was supposed to be awake. Ethan grabbed his phone off the floor. It buzzed in his hand, giving yet another alert that he hadn't checked his notifications. With a flick of his thumb, a couple of texts from Fiona bounced up onto the screen. "Do you want me to bring home dinner tonight?" "Last day!" "So excited! Everyone is wishing me luck!" "Are you up?" "Are you up yet?" "ETHAN" "You gotta pack goof" "If you don't wake up I'm going on a diet" "If you don't wake up I'm not going to stop eating" "ETHANNNNN" He typed out an answer, "Yes, babe. I'm up." Ethan rubbed his eyes with the back of each palm, tossed the phone onto his pillow, and got up. In the time it took him to walk across the bedroom and change into a clean t-shirt, a grey bubble had popped up under his message. He yawned and grabbed the phone as it vibrated. "FINALLLY," Fiona replied. "I was up late last night getting all of the video games and books together. Only one of us had to get up early today." "Last day of work babeeeee" "I know, babe. <3" "And you are such poop soup. You weren't up late working. I checked your open tabs." A twinge of shame ran up Ethan's arm straight across his back. Lately, he had been browsing in incognito mode and kept that stuff to himself. Not that it was anything out of the ordinary, but it seemed like the right thing to do. He had been taking a break from moving boxes and sorting books to read through some feederism posts on tumblr, and the evidence should have been discarded with a closed browser window, not discovered the next morning while he was sleeping. And if anything, in his defense, it was more research than wank fuel. After their conversation in the hotel, Fiona had started off on an ostensibly secretive adventure of her own. She took over the food shopping to allow Ethan "extra time to focus on his new job" and even tried to cook a few meals for herself. He never thought anything of it, except that she was going along with the season of giving, until he started preparing for the move. It's not exactly easy to hide a clandestine operation in a one-bedroom apartment, and during packing, it's practically impossible. A week into December, Ethan found a crumpled receipt and the remnants of a cake batter box shoved to the back of the pantry. He followed the clues to Fiona's closet and popped open the flaps on the cardboard box she was using to collect outgrown clothes. Buried beneath a season's worth of discarded garments was a black jug and a small notebook. What was in the black jug was obvious - it was marked with a shiny orange label that read "weight gain powder and appetite stimulant." Ethan took a deep breath and flipped open the notebook. Inside, Fiona had written out a list of numbers. It began with 284, continued with a bunch of seemingly random tallies and ended with 360. Ethan ran his finger along the paper until he found where she wrote "12/25 - 3125 21875 306." Despite the conversations when she'd flitted back and forth between wanting to gain and wanting to maintain, those numbers looked suspiciously like a plan to pile on weight in record time. Ethan figured that the idea made sense. After all, Fiona had repeatedly teased the idea during past hot and heavy fantasy sessions. And the holidays would allow her to push her appetite into overdrive without any obvious consequences, since everyone was too busy trying to enjoy themselves and avoid noticing their own holly jolly gluttony. Her figure could expand at an expedited pace under cover of baggy sweaters and her bulky parka, at least until she could go shopping for a size up in the new year. Everything clicked into place in Ethan's mind, but what would make her hide this from him? Why not tell him? The lonely apartment offered no answers, so everything was placed back as it was, and Ethan waited for Fiona to offer an explanation. Which, surprisingly, never came, not even once the results of her gain seemed all too obvious. That specific night was nine days later, the night of the holiday party thrown by Fiona's coworkers. Ethan spent most of his time introducing himself to random people, listening to various chit-chat about what it meant to be a medical professional and trying to keep track of where his girlfriend went whenever someone offered her a drink. After the sixth disappearance, he felt a tug on his wrist and was dragged into the nearest bathroom. Fiona stood before him, chubby cheeks flush red, clawing at her upper back. "We have a problem," she whispered. "What?" Ethan looked down at her to witness the unfolding competition for fabric that was happening between Fiona's ample bust and swollen belly. Her dress had become stretched to the breaking point, but it was unclear which stitch would be the first one to go. Fiona poked her boob and said, "My bra is ripping." "Is that bad?" Ethan replied. She shot him a look, but didn't raise her voice. "Yes, it's fucking bad." "Okay, okay, I'll grab your coat, and you can tell everyone that we have to leave early, because I've got work in the morning. It's almost ten, and that's true anyway, so, yeah." Fiona nodded, paused and made a weird face. Ethan thought it looked halfway between a wince and a sour look, but when she didn't immediately stop doing it, he realized that it was her way of trying to breathe deep to calm herself down without putting too much force on her dress. He smiled and put his hand on the bathroom door. "Ready?" She nodded again, and they navigated through the house to the back bedroom, where everyone had dumped their outerwear. The room was dark, but it was easy enough to find his greyish pea coat and her black leather jacket still where he left them two hours earlier. Ethan slipped his arms through the sleeves and turned around to see Fiona struggling to zip up to hide her potential wardrobe malfunction. It was the first moment that he believed that while his squishy girlfriend wasn't "super-sized" yet, the possibility had become an eventuality unless she abandoned her secret stuffing plans. Without looking up, she muttered a barely inaudible word, "Help." "How?" he whispered. "Just help." Her soft words had no panic or frustration. It was an ambiguous request, offered breathlessly with a sticky, sweet flavor. Ethan put his hands on her warm, plush hips, hoping that this was the moment she came clean. "Tell me." Fiona bit her lip and rested her hands on his forearms. "Help me," she repeated. "How?" She gently pressed her weight against him and tilted her chins up as they embraced. He kissed her deeply and seized two full handfuls of her sumptuous butt. The recent growth spurt had settled mainly in her chest, but his fingers had spent enough time exploring her massive rear to notice a difference. They both responded to the sensation of her new, luscious fat by grinding together, her wobbling middle against his stomach and hard cock. She let out a throaty whisper, "Help me. I'm still hungry." "How?" "Get me home, wrap me in a blanket and cuddle me. Keep me close to you and feed me until I get winded. Fall asleep in my arms, and wake up, and make me double breakfast." They stood together in the darkness, in silence, until she kissed him and repeated, "Help me." And Ethan did just that. He gave her a hand with the zipper, walked with her around the party to offer farewells to the guests that he had met and dutifully waited by the door, holding her purse while she went to say goodbye to her friends in the kitchen. It took him a minute to suspect that it wasn't going to be a short round of hugs, and in response, he pulled out his phone and read through a few articles. Finally, a half hour later, Fiona rounded the corner, a bag filled with tupperware in hand, and apologized for making him wait. "You okay?" Ethan asked. She smiled and replied, "Uh, yeah. They knew I was avoiding my mom, so we, uh, we had a few desserts, and..." Fiona groaned and held out the plastic bag. "It's time to go." Ethan stepped to Fiona's side and took the bag of leftovers from her, but also ran his other arm against the side of her belly. It felt like someone had force-fed her an oil drum of custard. Her taut gut had gone from tense against the jacket to a globular, unpredictable muffin-top that tested the strength of the leather. Which might not have been a problem if she hadn't zipped the jacket up tight to contain her always heavy but now heaving bosom. Fiona responded by clenching his hand and practically dragging him, at a forceful, plodding pace, to the car. Once out and alone in the winter air, Ethan smirked and tried to make light of her situation. "Well, you always worried that you'd never be an E-cup." Fiona snorted. "I haven't worried about that in a while." "I don't think there's anything we need to worry about, anyway." She moved against Ethan slightly, bumping him with a hefty bit of upper arm chub and her butt. "You think so?" "Yeah!" he replied. They arrived at the car, and Ethan helped Fiona into the driver's side. Once she began to settle in and adjust, he opened the door to the back seat and secured the bag of leftovers next to some books and a shoe-box that may or may not actually contain shoes. But before Ethan could close the door, there was a pop and a noise that sounded like a popcorn bag bursting. He darted back to Fiona's side, and her face appeared even more red and winded than before. Up across her left boob, there was a tear in the seam of the leather jacket where he could see right through to her dress. It wasn't obvious until later that she had also broken her bra, but to Ethan, that was far less impressive than, say, his girlfriend literally exploding out of her clothes because she was pouring thousands of calories into her tits through her greedy lips. He wordlessly placed his fingers on the busted stitching, examining the extent of the damage, until she exhaled fully and popped the hole open to the top roll of her belly pudge. Fiona looked up at him and groaned, "I'm not an E-cup." Their quiet, intimate drive home was indeed followed up by everything she wanted, which, in turn, was followed by two helpings of breakfast in bed, but an explanation was never offered. So, it was after that night that started Ethan off on reading up on similar situations with other gaining girls, whether they were real women or fictional feedees in comics or stories. (His favorite, as of late, had been Kastemel's ongoing comic, Eclipse.) And it also gave him something to do during his breaks from preparing for their impending move to a suburb near his new job. When they weren't out celebrating the holidays with friends, Fiona had let Ethan pack up the majority of the apartment, with the exception of her stuff in the bedroom. Normally, she would have been all over the task, insisting that Ethan shouldn't do it alone and that they had to evenly split a list of chores related to the move. But what happened instead was that Ethan put on some music, got to work and had a great conversation with his lounging lady as she snuggled up in a blanket. In between fistfuls of chips, cheese and chocolates, she tapped on her tablet and told him about all the places she wanted to check out once they got settled in the new city. And when he needed someone to get the door or hold some tape, Fiona would dust her fingers off on her giant thighs, rock her ass back and forth a few times and wobble up out of her chair to give him a hand. Her boobs jiggled free of a bra, keeping the fabric tense against her skin. Both of her chunky butt-cheeks shook and bounced, vibrating sweatpants that had gone from baggy to almost leggings. Her gain had even gotten to the point where she didn't bother to pull down her shirt as she shimmied across the room. "Why bother," she quipped, "when the belly doesn't want it to stay down?" So, yeah, it was fair to say that he had become fully immersed in her new lifestyle, both online and off. "Are you going to tease me about that now?" Ethan replied. "No feasting." "What?" "Oh god I typed teasing and it auto-corrected to feasting. Even my phone is obsessed with food." Ethan laughed to himself. "You are a bad influence." "Bad? I am great in every way. Feasting for everyone!" "Love you too, babe." "Shit need to go love you" Ethan walked into the kitchen and put on some coffee. The floor was cool on his bare feet, and the place was a mess, but he couldn't stop himself from smiling. Even considering the unexpected gain, Fiona was in a good place, and he finally felt like he was enough for her. Not because of his new job or success with his writing or how healthy he'd become in the absence of stress, but because he believed he deserved his pleasant little life. It all felt tangible and solid, a welcome emotional refuge after years of uncertainty and instability. The future meant more of the same, and he could handle that. But no amount of hope could be a suitable substitute for curiosity. Ethan flicked over to his phone's browser and scrolled through posts and updates of feeders, feedees and plus-size models. It wasn't so much a habit, or at least that's what he'd tell Fiona, but more of an ongoing project of sorts. Any and all interesting information about feederism or gaining was examined and mentally filed for later use. It was research. Sexy research. Something to think about while he packed, because while Vanessa and Bill had been an interesting anomaly in their lives, for the most part, Ethan had no idea what to expect from Fiona if she kept gaining. Before, there was always the pictures - those serendipitously discovered images of Fiona's previous life as a fat girl - that signaled what would come next. But now, he was witnessing something new every day, exploring the unknown. He tried to find larger girls that looked like Fiona on tumblr or Instagram, but after a week of looking, he had given up. There were too many possibilities. Her overfilled hourglass shape might continue to fill out until she turned top-heavy, or maybe that would slow down and leave her looking like a pear with a lot to spare. Fiona's way of plumping up everywhere and smoothing out in all the right places was typical when she was gaining slowly, but now that she was gleefully pushing past 300 pounds, it wasn't so easy to guess what another twenty, thirty or even fifty pounds might look like. After all, that's what could be between his fingertips in another year, or hell, by the summer at this rate. The hours spent trying to predict what Fiona would look like come bikini season gave him a lot to think about, but it also gave him a greater appreciation for what was. He didn't want to wank to thoughts of an SSBBW Fiona, or any other bigger girl, ever. In a weird way, his wants had changed as she did. It's not that he didn't enjoy watching her fatten up. Ethan's desire to feed and dominate his adoring feedee was still there, but it hadn't been the same since that time before the holidays. Even finding her notebook and watching her bust out of her leather jacket hadn't changed that. Fiona was his partner, now and always, and if he was truly honest with himself, she was enough. It was all enough for him. The curiosity bubbled up with arousal, subsided with the flow of normal life and appeared again during daydreams and meditation, but it was no longer the sustained itch, the point of contention, that it once was in their relationship. Maybe his blinding lust and need for control had gone away now that Fiona was well and truly a fat girl. Or maybe it was because there was enough else on his mind. Either way, there was a new sense of security that he felt as he grabbed a thick handful of her belly fat and gave it a gentle shake. Life would be better for them both, and at the end of the day, they could always lie in bed while he squeezed the squishy love of his life. The desire would always be there, but Fiona had become so much more to him than any one thing. Ethan dumped the coffee into his tall travel mug and made his way back into the bedroom. He sat on the floor and looked over at one of Fiona's giant stuffed animals. "Think she's over 315 yet?" The speckled grey plush offered no response. "You know, maybe this ongoing investigation has to do with my inability to accept the new status quo, because for years, I've wanted to date a girl that gains, like actually gains, like doubles her weight, and now, I don't have to worry about that anymore, so I'm left with all of this extra time clunking around in my head with nothing to stress out over." Still, no reply. "Humans are stupid like that. All I ever had to do was love her and accept her for who she is, and everything would work out fine. But if it isn't complicated enough, we make it harder as we go along, even when have what we want." He took a sip of his coffee and smiled. "No, she's definitely, definitely, well over 300." Ethan chuckled a little and booped the stuffed animal on the nose. "Yeah, I kind of wonder what's going happen after tonight too."
  15. jarlewski

    Squish

    Fiona stepped out of the shower and put one foot onto the cool tile floor. She winced at the sensation, but it was enough for her to snatch a towel off the shelf above the toilet. Fancy place or not, none of her surroundings were designed for a tiny person with short arms. Fiona paused for a second as she dried herself. Did she still think of herself as tiny? Could she be tiny? The sound of Ethan moving around outside of the bathroom brought Fiona back to the task at hand. She dried off, grabbed a second towel for her hair and ventured out into the colder air of the hotel room. Ethan was sitting on the bed, using her laptop, reading over something with a stupid look on his face. As she fussed with her hair, Fiona asked him, "Whatcha doing, babe?" Ethan looked up at her with a smirk. "Nothing." "Doesn't look like nothing." He looked at the laptop and read aloud, "His light touch explored her bovine beauty, until his fingers cupped her 46K tits. At 400 pounds, she had become his everything, and it only made him work harder for her milk. So much milk-" Fiona turned red and tried to slap the laptop closed. "Ethan!" He pulled back as her hands swatted about, trying to enjoy the teasing without the inevitable payback. "Truce! I stopped reading! I stopped!" Fiona huffed and stared at him. "You left the incognito window open," he said. "I went to go look up information about the museum because their mobile site sucks, and it was there. And I only read two pages. I just got back." She said nothing. "I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd mind if I read your story or whatever, since I already knew you liked this stuff. I wasn't trying to be mean. I promise. It's just that you never share this stuff with me anymore." "Because it's fucked up," she replied. "What? No. I mean, it's porn. Most porn on the Internet is pretty fucked up." "Compared to what you look at." "Babe, you know that's not fair. I spent months pounding it out to fat pictures of you. You know it doesn't take much for me." Fiona sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from Ethan. He continued, "I'm sorry. Really. I'm just curious about this stuff, because you never, ever have any pages in your history. And I like knowing what turns you on." "That was one I found on a site I normally look at, but I hadn't read it yet. I was still horny from last night when I woke up, but the wifi crapped out, and I took a shower instead, and that's why the page was there." Fiona turned to look at Ethan. "After last night, I wanted something different. I know you find it sexy that I've lost control-" Ethan interrupted, "Babe, no." "No, it's okay. Let's be honest. Last night was different. And it's all been kind of different." Fiona took the towel off her head and tossed it onto the desk chair. "When I first started gaining, you kind of thought you were tricking me into this, and now, I'll be lucky if I can get through Thanksgiving and Christmas without putting on another ten pounds. But babe, I love this. I love the way I look. I love being able to eat. I love it when you watch me stuff my face. I love how you touch me. I love how I feel." She paused to exhale. "But this is a lot. And I can't control my appetite. All I want to do is eat. Which would be fine if I was some girl in a story that blimped up and couldn't stop. Nobody ever makes fun of some ditzy bitch when she's stuck in bed, funneling down gallons of weight gain shakes. But being fat in real life isn't easy. And sometimes, I don't love my body or how I feel. Sometimes, I get all sweaty and my clothes don't fit right and I just want to go home to you and keep eating. It's not sexy or fun then. It's just sad, because I can't turn it off." Ethan sighed. "Babe, when you first started gaining, you said it was for me, and that it was my thing. But when you thought that you'd gained too much, you got defensive and said it was your thing. Really though? It's our thing. And I never want you to feel bad about that." "Would you love me if I lost all the weight?" "I'd love you always." "Yeah, but would you still want to fuck me if I lost all of the weight?" Ethan nodded. "It wouldn't be the same, but yeah. I mean, you know what I like. I'm always going to wish that you were fat, but I'm never going to be disappointed by the way you look. That's the brutal honest truth." "And what if I got a lot fatter?" Fiona asked. "What do you mean?" "I mean, I don't know what I want." "That's why I kind of assumed-" "Assumed what?" "Well, like with Vanessa." Fiona scrunched up her face. "Huh?" "Babe, you're obsessed with fat girls. You constantly stress out about how you look, but when it comes to other women, you go crazy for pudge. Like, I'm pretty sure you want Vanessa to be over 400 pounds." Fiona smiled. "I want to squeeze her so bad." Ethan laughed. "I know. And even when I tried to be supportive with your diet and back off on the feeder talk, you still told me all about what you've been eating and how you just want to be squished all of the time and how you wish you could be bigger. Like, I can outright tell you that I refuse to talk about any of it, and you still tease me. So, whatever. Maybe you're destined to be a fat girl forever, but it's not like you have to worry about it for the rest of your life. I love you. I love your body. And the people that are going to give you crap for being fat said the same shit when you were 180. At least now you can enjoy this fetish stuff and have a happy life with me." "Is that what you want?" "It doesn't matter what I want." "But it does. Because you're the one that's going to have to get a seat belt extender for your fat girlfriend. You're the one that has to sit with me while the doctor lectures me on how unhealthy I am. You're the one that has to wait for me while I huff and puff my fat ass up the stairs. You're the one that has to help me to the car because I ate so much I can hardly walk." Ethan interrupted, "And I do all of that willingly, because I love you. I'd still marry you if I had to physically carry you up every flight of stairs for the rest of our lives. I just want you to be happy." "I want you to be happy too, babe." "Fiona Bee, I am happy. Now it's your turn to tell me what you want." Fiona scooted over to Ethan and hugged him.
×