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Batman76

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    Calorie Girl

    in Stories

    Posted

    On 4/1/2024 at 7:28 PM, flyer33 said:

    Chapter 9: The Dragon’s Scale (part 2)

     

    The house at Number One Witch Crescent presented such a splendidly authentic ambience of magic, and, well, general witchiness, that Sophia Sloane had positively fizzed with ideas for almost half a week! There were interior decorators to hire. Caterers to book. And, of course, wealthy, well-connected, and celebrity friends to invite so that the society magazines would get wind of the Sloane family’s fabulous new party venue!

    Party invitations, Sophia Sloane avowed, were best given in person. It was to this end Sophia had laid on a lavish brunch in the orangery of opulent Sloane Mansion. The attendees were the choosiest of all party guests: billionaire’s wives. Eager to get an excellent attendance of them at her debut spooky-soirée, Sophia had hired Plains City’s most expensive pastry chef to ply her brunch guests with such hefty slices of irresistible cake, washed down with copious vintage Champagne. Thus fed and lubricated, the trophy wives would be in far too elated a sugar-high to say no to anything, least of all an invitation to enjoy Sophia’s delightful hospitality at her bijou little new house!

    It was clear at a glance around the fragrant orangery that Sophia Sloane’s plan was working! Not one of her two-dozen ultra-wealthy peers, chit-chatting happily to each other, lacked a plate smeared in the residue of multiple large slices of gourmet cake! Nor even, Sophia snidely noted, a bosom free from evidence that its proud owner had dropped a crumb or two of “light and airy” cake, or a dollop of high-priced filling, onto her cleavage! Sophia had craftily restricted the healthy canapés in favour of yet more pastries and tarts loaded with sugar, and the oblivious billionaire’s spouses were grazing delightedly and washing it all down with Champers and cream cocktails.

    It was quite a testament to the “stamina” of Plains City’s ultra-wealthy wife set that, after an hour of Sophia’s hospitality, they could still stand without swaying from excessive blood sugar and booze! Of course, these uber-rich women had a lot of practice with underwear-busting brunches! It was something of a miracle most of them could even squeeze into their exquisite, single-digit dress size outfits – a miracle Sophia Sloane attributed not primarily to the “strict regime” they all claimed, between mouthfuls of cake, they struggled through to atone for their “occasional” indulgent brunches. Sophia attributed their enviable silhouettes more to liposuction and the skills of elite cosmetic surgeons; to diet pills and mornings suffering the after-effects of laxative fruit smoothies; and to the skill of Plains City’s fashion houses with body-con outfits and vice-tight shapewear concealed in high-end lingerie!

    Case in point was the city’s latest trophy wife: one “Minty” Sweetwater. Sophia generally thought of “Minty” in quote marks, because that had been the girl’s stage name… back when the six-foot knockout had been a pole-dancer! Alas for “Minty”, her sleazy past – and, more importantly, the fact she’d been born poor and only made it in life by working as a stripper – was public knowledge. And her elderly oil-tycoon husband’s fortune (at $2.5 billion, per Forbes, making “Minty” one of Sophia’s poorest brunch guests) was far too small to shield the lowly Missouri girl from the snide remarks of her better-educated peers.

    Anyway, “Minty” had arrived from nowhere onto Plains City’s elite social scene, at the age of 22, one year and ten days prior to Sophia Sloane’s latest brunch (according to Sophia’s detailed party records). On her debut, the newly-married “Minty” had sported a gaudily-huge diamond on her wedding ring, to match the bombshell-sized breasts on the red-head’s smoking-hot, 6 foot frame. And she’d also sported a smoking-hot body, with a lean, concave midriff on display between her cheap cutoff T-shirt and her cheap but enviably loose-waisted size six jeans. But it hadn’t lasted! Smirks and titters followed the pole dancer from Missouri, who didn’t know which fork to use at a fancy dinner, but who certainly couldn’t resist loading up the wrong fork with shovelfuls of billionaire food she’d missed out on throughout her deprived youth! Minty could be seen shovelling herself full of Plains City’s richest fare at brunches, afternoon teas, and dinners, never stopping eating until she was green in the face! Lucky for her she didn’t have to fit into her stripper-shorts again! By a month into her marriage, Minty had been too fat for revealing crop-tops. At two months, she’d had to upsize the couture tops she’d replaced them with. And at three months she’d left a soirée crying after her widening caboose tore the seat of her favourite jeans! Sophia Sloane had openly tittered! And Minty had kept piling on the weight all year. Never a good conversationalist, at elite social events she soon learned to keep quiet in front of her betters, and instead stuck to something she was good at: eating herself sick!

    After a year of marriage, poor Minty’s fattened-up caboose and thighs were straining her rhinestone-encrusted size 12 jeans, and only firm shapewear was keeping her muffin top under a degree of control…

    … And Mrs Sophia Sloane eagerly looked forward to the day when Minty’s swelling badonk outweighed her own! To which end, she laid on extra portions of sugary junk at brunches and soirées, and made sure to always invite Minty!

    “Tee hee!”

    Sophia headed over to the buffet table at which she saw Minty was already glutting herself green on Monsieur du Goo’s gourmet cake, and decided to make sure the Missouri poledancer was the next invitee to her upcoming spooky soirée.

    Sophia chortled under her breath. “Minty’s soon going to make me look slim! Tee hee!"

    The prospect cheered the milfish Mrs Sloane greatly.

    And Sophia Sloane had already been in a wonderful mood this brunchtime! Partly because of her plans proceeding apace for Witch Crescent.

    But, also, and just as pleasing, Sophia Sloane had awoken that morning feeling much less bloated than she had in weeks! Perhaps the new fruit-and-berry smoothies she’d added to her breakfast were easing her constipation problem? Perhaps the good, hard fucking she’d received from her personal trainer had helped matters? Or perhaps she was just full of energy thanks to Witch Crescent?

    Whatever the reason, Sophia Sloane was in an excellent mood. So excellent, in fact, nothing whatsoever could possibly spoil it…

    … Which was just as well. For, as Sophia rounded a cluster of Old Money wives who’d already accepted their own party invitations – and who were helping themselves to more of Monsieur du Goo’s carrot cake even though they were all obviously testing the limits of their size 8 and 10 ultra-bodycon lingerie – Sophia saw that Minty Sweetwater’s conversation conversation partner was the overweight poledancer’s polar opposite.

    Rachel Tate!

    “Eeek!” Sophia’s eyes bulged as she saw the perfect Mrs Rachel Tate’s absolutely outrageous – as in so outrageous it was certain to draw prime mention in all the best Society magazines – outfit.

    A frayed white cotton crop top… Tied under ample C-cup boobs, that reached eagerly for the orangery’s glass ceiling, as if they’d gone through life unaffected by gravity. They obviously weren’t getting any support from the barely-existent black bikini bra that had blatantly been Rachel Tate’s choice because its skimpy flimsiness showed through her tight white top!

    A bare midriff... With smooth abs to make a heptathlete glow green with envy.

    Daisy Dukes… Sophia groaned; briefly regretted the cubic yards of hot chocolate she’d guzzled during her marriage; and tried in vain to avert her gaze before noticing Rachel’s perfect legs.

    Gulp.

    Sophia involuntarily swallowed a huge mouthful of the carrot cake she’d barely begun to even taste.

    Somehow – and utterly unfairly, in the view of Sophia Sloane – Rachel Tate had made it through 25 or more years of married life with the body of a nineteen year old. The sluttishness with which Rachel was flaunting her body was beyond indecent – and at a brunch hosted by a woman who struggled with her milf-gut, no less! Ooof! It was – almost – enough to make Sophia say something catty!

    “Rachel!” Sophia trilled. “You look fabulous! Not a day over…” Sophia gulped, and forced herself not to say twenty-five, but something with a bit of High Society bite to it “… forty. You must tell me your secret!”

    “Oh, I don’t think you’d like to know my secret, Sophia…” Rachel replied. “… I had to shape up for a little cross country contest, and I’ve been doing a bit more running. I do hope you don’t mind my coming to brunch in just my training gear. I lost track of time, so I had to run here directly, and I simply had nothing else to wear!”

    Bullshit! Sophia grumbled to herself. As if the slut arrives from a run with pageant-perfect hair and makeup to go with her slutty fake running clothes.

    Etiquette didn’t permit Sophia to remark upon Rachel’s ostentatiously implausible nonsense explanation for her scandalously slutty outfit, however, so she turned next to Minty. Teasing the overweight and under-confident new Mrs Sweetwater was always good sport.

    “Minty! How lovely to see you!” Minty smiled weakly. “You’ve positively glowing.” Sophia continued, glancing at the amount of cake on Minty’s plate. “And such… a healthy appetite for my delicious cakes! Is it possible that you might, perhaps, have had the felicitous delight of… falling pregnant?”

    Tee hee! Sophia smirked, at the cleverly snide way of calling the red-head ex-stripper fat.

    Minty’s head hung, and she glanced over the side of her enormous boobs, at her too-tight jeans and muffin top.

    “No…” The poledancer sniffed sadly. “… I still haven’t. But I do hope to soon! And…” Misty paused, perhaps knowing she was going to say something silly. “… Rachel. Um, Mrs Tate. Rachel has been giving me some tips. Um, on how to get pregnant. Um.”

    “Hahaha!” Sophia laughed heartily. Minty might be 23, but the gossip magazines laughed on a regular basis at any picture of her with her absurdly old and frail husband. The redheaad was six foot, broadly-built, and now overweight with added fat as well. Any attempt on her part to consummate her marriage let alone get pregnant would certainly backfire and turn her into a widow!

    Minty froze, and looked like she wanted to cry.

    “No, really! I very much hope to get pregnant.”

    “Oh.”

    Sophia decided that she had more important things to do at her brunch than chat with the fat and busty ex-poledancer, and the perfect former Miss Universe.

    Such as handing out party invitations to super-rich wives.

    “Anyway. Minty and Rachel. You must come to my upcoming soirée at Number One, Witch Crescent… It is Plains City’s most haunted mansion, and formerly belonged to a powerful witch… So, Minty: I’m sure that the magic of the house, as well as my fabulous cakes that you love so much, will help you to get pregnant! And Rachel: it’s fancy dress, so if you want you can come as you are!”

    Haha!

    Take that, Rachel Tate! Come-as-you-are indeed. A good one!

    Sophia smirked. Not even Rachel Tate had a snappy comeback to that one. She’d probably have to accept the invitation just so she could spend the intervening time until the party thinking of one!

    “What a generous offer, Sophia.” Rachel really did decide to spend the time up to the party coming up with a suitable comeback. “I think I have space in my calendar.”

    Minty, of course, was too far below Sophia in social status to have an option.

    “Thank you, Sophia. I hope it will.” Minty said

    And, with that, Sophia proceeded to the next buffet table. There, another plumped-up ex plus model, married to the owner of Ohio’s biggest burrito restaurant chain, was grazing on cake next to a skinny ex weather-girl married to a financier. The previous, ridiculous conversation faded from Sophia’s mind with one final thought.

    Bah! How ridiculous! Fertility advice from Rachel Tate. What a joke! The only advice Rachel Tate could possibly offer was that if you got railed like a freight train seven times a day by a demigod like Hal Tate, you would assuredly fall pregnant within about three hours after forgetting to use two forms of contraception at all times!

    Sophia’s tummy rumbled. She was hungry! It must be because her bloating problem had gone away overnight. Leaving room for more carrot cake! The carrot cake today was sublime.

    “Perhaps another slice of carrot cake.” Sophia decided, before joining the next guests. After all, she was hungry… And, even better, Sophia’s girdle had been so easy to fasten this morning, that she’d actually hunted out an old one from when she wore a size 12. That one, after a struggle, had actually gone on too! As a result, Sophia’s designer day dress, with a trendy geometric print on white silk, was actually rather flattering – her mommy gut was held in closer than her generous boobs, and although her caboose was still large there was clearly scope for a slice or two more cake! And that was before her guests departed… After that… Sophia would be at liberty to shed her girdle, and lounge around gorging on leftover carrot cake and pastries like a grizzly bear!

    What a splendid prospect! Monsieur du Goo’s carrot cake was the best thing she’d tasted all year. Best of all, Sophia had encountered it on a day she wasn’t even feeling remotely overfed or bloated! She might even have to have Mr Goo whip up a whole another cake for later!

     

    *
     

    Minty Sweetwater dug her fork sadly into the last piece of carrot cake on her plate.

    “Rachel? Is there more carrot cake? I feel a bit sick, but it’s soo good!” Asked the redhead.

    Minty was wearing kitten heels such that with a teeny slouch she was as conspiratorial eye-level with Rachel Tate. Rachel gulped down her own cake and glanced at the overfed redhead… A sheen of sugary-looking perspiration, and dilated pupils, suggested Minty Sweetwater had eaten enough for one brunch.

    Very suspicious. What was in that cake?

    “Hmm. I don’t know, Minty. You’ve gone kind-of a mid shade of green. Don’t you think the nine big slices you already ate are enough?”

    “Um…” Minty concentrated. “… No? Um, I only feel a bit sick, and I can take off my bodyshaper and unbutton my jeans soon!”

    Rachel eyed the remaining carrot cake platter. Four slices. All huge. While Minty was answering, Rachel unhinged her jaw and stuffed a whole slice into her mouth.

    “Only three left, Minty.” Rachel said. “I think I should probably finish them.”

    “Aw!!! Rachel, please? I’m hungry!”

    “No.”

    Two slices left.

    Minty sniffed sadly.

    “Please, Mrs Tate! I’m starving.”

    “No.”

    Gulp.

    One slice.

    “Rachel! Not fair! You’ve already eaten twice as much as me! Please may I have-”

    Gulp.

    “Nope. Ugh. That carrot cake is sickly sweet!” Rachel gulped from a water jug while Minty stared sadly at the crumbs… And then looked around the room for more, and started towards the next table.

    “OUCH!” Minty cried, at the sudden hard grip on her arm.

    “Let me go! Rachel, I want more cake!”

    Rachel Tate shook her head and blinked, as if clearing her vision.

    “No. Minty. I think the carrot cake has – had – some kind of illicit ingredient. Maybe… That’s why the pastry chef is the city’s richest? Perhaps Monsieur du Goo puts an illicit appetite stimulant in his most expensive recipes? To secure the big bucks from cake-loving clients like Sophia? That would be sneaky, but very Plains City!”

    Minty tried to free her arm from Rachel’s grip, but couldn’t. And she couldn’t keep from being pulled outside to the mansion’s car park either, so she went along with it and pretended she wasn’t being dragged out of the cake-laden conservatory against her will.

    “But Rachel! You ate my cake! Why? To save me from being sick?” Sob. “That’s so nice of you! No-one else would do that for me! I think Sophia even smirks at me when I get fatter. But aren’t you worried you’ll get fat like me?”

    Rachel more or less threw the heavier trophy wife into the seat of her sports car.

    “Nope.”

    “But why?”

    “Because, Mints, I have a fast metabolism, which will definitely burn away any appetite stimulant before it does anything to me… You on the other hand we take for blood tests, to find out if I’m right, and assuming I am then what it is. And also…”

    Rachel floored the accelerator of her sports car, eliciting a shriek from Minty as they cornered with insane speed from opulant Sloane mansion’s driveway onto the wide, private roads of billionaire suburbia.

    “… My husband prefers me fat… I’ve lost some weight, Minty, and if I don’t fluff back up to chubby milf status soon, I fear he may refuse to let me fuck him more than six times a day… And entropy will claim the universe before I will ever accept less than unlimited fucking from my husband!”

     

    * *

    Oh I wonder if this is the thing to slow Rachel down again...

    Hilary Duff

    in Celebrities

    Posted

    2 hours ago, McK said:

     

    Why does she insist on wearing black at all times?

     

    This outfit would be beautiful if that were a white sports bra and gray leggings.

    Because black is slimming and she's probably not happy about getting that big,  that fast again. 

    Unexpected "Weight Gain Content" in Literature

    in Stories

    Posted

    Recentish fantasy book series called "warheit" has this in its second book "Revenge".

    One view point character is a relatively minor  noble girl who through political shenanigans becomes a Queen. Due to severe threats against her life, she's kept in her royal apartments at all times, rubber stamping decisions. Her day consists of waking, being bathed and dressed, walking the short distance to her dining room and being served a stupefying huge breakfast with more food than anyone could eat. Then essentially having nothing to do but sit around and have music played for her, while servants bring her snacks without asking, until an equally large lunch. Repeat until dinner.

    She tells her steward that if this keeps up she's going to very rapidly become obese. In response she's told that this wouldn't be the worst idea, as a slender, pretty queen would be seen as a bride to be captured by her scheming nobles, while a fat, round, motherly Queen would remind the nobles of their own mothers and make them obey.

    So far, she hasn't gained weight but the potential...

    Sophie Hall

    in Plus-Size Models

    Posted

    On 12/13/2023 at 4:21 PM, Robhazelnut said:

    You know, it looks to me like she had plastic surgery on her lips and stomach. The former seemed smaller back before 2020 and the latter seemed bigger.

    That's pretty clear. You don't get an ass that fat with a stomach that flat otherwise 

    Kelly Brook

    in Celebrities

    Posted

    12 hours ago, Anderssonson said:

    I mean this earnestly, what weight has she kept off? I’m not saying she's obese but she doesn't look considerably slimmer than she ever did.

    For slimfast she's perfect. 

     

    If Kelly consistently looked like she did back in Piranha 3d from slimfast, the target audience (overweight middle aged women) wouldnt believe she ever needed help losing weight or would believe she was on the side using a strict diet/ exercise regime they couldn't hope to follow.  As is,  she obviously enjoys her snacks and doesn't exercise much (not that she could,  those things would put her back out) but has a figure that's narrower at the middle than at the top. Much of that us fortunate genetics but she could believably claim that she'd be heavier without slim fast.

    Weight Gain Story Lines (TV & Movies)

    in Celebrities

    Posted

    11 hours ago, Lobz21 said:

    Some really good insight on these responses. I’m just shocked that they don’t explore weight gain in basically any way, even comedic. Like if someone gains 5-10 pounds and can’t fit into something, to me it’s grounds for even a funny story line.  It’s not demeaning or shameful, it’s just life.  It’s crazy to me how untouchable the subject is. 
     

    I once remember reading that during Seinfeld, Julia Louis Dreyfus got pregnant and Jerry wanted to write it in as a weight gain story line cause he thought it would be funny. She literally cried at the idea so they scrapped it. She later admitted that it would have been funny and she should have done it. Now in her instance, she was pregnant so any emotional response to something involving her body is understandable. I just wish I understand why weight gain frightens women so much in general 

    Remember when Jessica Simpson gained like fifteen pounds and it was such a big deal that reporters brought it up to Obama in a 1:1 interview?

    I love schadenfreude as much as any pervert in stories and looking at pics but the fat shaming the media was willing to run with even in the very recent past towards women was nuts. 

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