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  1. Hi everyone! I'm HarlowBBW, I'm a blonde, pansexual and pan pizza sexual 🍕 and I can't wait to get started showing off my body for you🖤! 🎇Don't forget to stop by and tell me what you think of my first bit of content. This is only the beginning and I look forward to improving to show even more of myself off! Thank you!🎇 I'm thinking of doing "School girl" and "Dolled up" content next. Is there anything anyone else would like to see? P.S. Did you know you could get 4 meals for $10 on the Burger King app!?! I stuffed myself today and I want to do it again! 🐷
  2. I want to receive offers about clips and discuss details, I want to increase my profit.
  4. What are you guys looking for in a video. I know it can be hard to find. I seem to struggle hard to find exactly what i want. Now understand if there is a special request i need time to get what ever it may be. But i really what to be able to make videos that favor the people who are weirdly specific like me.
  5. Hello everyone guess who got there stuff uploaded to curvage?!😱😁 My sister and I will be sharing so much of ourselves so often I can’t wait to hear all the feedback. I’d love to know who wants to see what from us? What would you like to see the most? Please be creative nothing is too silly. I’m on the left Katie, my sister Kammy is on the right. If I didn’t post this in the right place I’m sorry it wasnt on purpose XD we are learning.
  6. Hi everyone. My twin sister and I are hoping to be accepted into curvage so we can post and make lots of whatever you guys and gals want! Anytime you ever see a photo of us, it means a video from that time exists as well😘. We have lots of content all ready just for curvage to uploaded. We shake out bootys together, eat pizza together, we dance around in underwear showing out fat bouncing all over, we play in the pool together, my sister loves whipped cream a lot in her videos lol. All of the things I Jjst mentioned we already have videos made and ready for you. We offer so much and can’t wait to hear feedback and hear what else the people want.
  7. It was late at night. 2:30 AM, to be exact. The kitchen was dark. The fridge door opened, shining its blue light out over Chrissy’s flabby, stretchmarked body. She bent over to grab a box of leftover pizza; her panties slipped between her fat, dimpled ass cheeks. She smiled, greedily, like she was getting away with something. There were only a few slices left, and the garlic bread. She popped the garlic bread in the microwave for a few seconds, stopping the timer before it went off. The pizza, she ate cold. The chair creaked when she lowered herself into it. Her saddlebags hung off the sides of the seat. She felt the cold morning air on an escaped nipple, and paused to tuck her tits back into her old, outgrown C-cup. She dug in without reservation, dunking the warm garlic sticks into chilled marina and cramming them into her mouth. She powered through close to a thousand calories like it was a small snack. She finished the last slice and leaned back in her chair, full, fat, and happy. The overhead light flicked on. Josh was in the doorway, grinning. All he said was “Good girl.” Chrissy flushed red, “How long have you been there?” “Long enough.” Josh moved in, “You get enough food in you?” His hands started massaging her chubby gut, digging through a thick layer of soft blubber, down to the small, but solid lump of food at her core. Chrissy belched in his face. Something flickered in Josh’s eyes, and Chrissy made the split second decision to play along. “I could keep going.” Josh grinned, “Gonna be a little piggy tonight, then?” Chrissy barked out a laugh, “This body didn’t give me away?” She leaned back, twisting the seat to give her boyfriend a better view of her overfed state. From this angle, her love handles and potbelly completely hid her black lace panties. She slapped her meaty thighs, and the ripples echoed up her doughy body. Josh’s boxers were getting tighter. He shrugged, pursed his lips, “I dunno, you’ve been talking a lot about dieting, lately…” Chrissy wiped a smear of red sauce from her cleavage and licked her finger clean. She was smiling, “Do I look like I’m on a diet?” “I mean, maybe you should be?” Josh teased, meaning none of it. He reached out to grab Chrissy by her butter-soft love handles, feeling her plump decadence, “There’s getting to be a lot of you, lately.” “Because I’m a good little piggy!” Chrissy giggled, “And you like it!” Josh could tell there was still room in Chrissy’s belly, “A good little piggy would keep eating.” “Pfft, keep eating what?” Chrissy scoffed, “We’re out of leftovers.” She rubbed her dense, heavy belly, lovingly, “It’s all in here!” There was a devilish look in Josh’s eye. “I mean, there’s still this” He said as he walked over to the kitchen cabinet and pulled out a small cake. Chrissy’s eyes went wide, “Hold up, now time out.” Josh nodded, and she composed herself, “Okay, but like, I actually can't eat that? It’s for my sister’s birthday tomorrow.” “We’ll get her a new one.” Josh smiled, “We’ll get her a better one. Look how tiny this one is! This is barely enough to feed one, single fat girl!” He could see her coming round, so he wrapped it up, “You know you want to.” He was right. Chrissy was getting wet just thinking about it. They moved to the couch. Josh pulled her to her feet. She was built like a bowling pin crossed with a bowling ball. She looked down at her body and bit her lip. Josh unhooked her bra, and her tits slumped off to the sides of her porky potbelly. Her toes were nowhere in sight. She could feel her thighs rubbing together with every ponderous, waddling step. She never thought she’d get this big. 300 pounds was just around the corner. She might’ve already turned that corner. She peeled her slightly damp panties off before she sat down. If she was eating this cake for Josh’s pleasure, he was going to eat for hers. He handed her the small cake, set a half gallon jug of chocolate milk to the side. She sat down. From the sound it made, the couch didn’t care for that. She took up most of the seat, her wide hips covering most of the two cushions. She set the cake on the dome of her belly, and spread her legs. Josh knew the deal. He took his place, grabbing roughly at her thighs and forcing his way in. Chrissy bit her lip a little, inhaling deeply as he forced his face between her legs, his tongue searching. She grabbed a rough handful of cake, started filling her belly. She ate fast. There wasn’t that much, really, to eat, but she wasn’t working on an empty stomach. Between her full belly, and her lovers’ tongue, she was beyond satisfied in only a few minutes, but there was more cake to eat, and Josh wasn’t stopping. As she crammed more and more cake into her greedy belly, Chrissy’s face turned red, bright red. She was beyond stuffed; she was struggling to breathe. As the last few handfuls went down, she could feel her skin breaking out in new stretch marks, but beyond that, she could feel Josh spelling out her name with his tongue, C-H-R-I-S-S-Y. She grabbed for the milk jug; she needed to wash down the cake. Fat hung from her arm, visibly wobbling as she reached over. She took a big gulp, her poor, distended belly swelling that much more. She couldn’t see Josh over the flabby dome, but she could feel him working, working, bringing her to the very edge. Her thunderous thighs tightened around Josh’s ears as she orgasmed, and one word was echoing in Chrissy’s head. She moaned, “More!” Josh kept lapping at her soft pussy, but that wasn’t what she meant. She reached down, around her aching belly, down between her legs. She grabbed Josh by the hair, pulled him up. She was a fat, wheezing wreck. Cake was smeared across her belly, around her mouth, even in her hair. She had chocolate milk dribbling from her mouth, down between her small, chubby breasts. She was full to bursting, but she wanted a little bit more. Josh smiled, “God, you’ve gotten fat!” Chrissy rolled her eyes, “Just shut up and fuck me!” She readjusted herself, grunting with the effort, “And you know you’re doing all the work!” All he needed to hear. He grabbed her by her thick, dimpled thighs and went at it. Chrissy was always loud in bed, but this time, she woke neighbors. Hard to tell what was making her moan more, her man or her poor, packed-tight stomach. Her entire body jiggled with every pounding thrust. Her eyes crossed, and her mouth hung open. She knew where she wanted this to go. Josh was ready to burst. She grabbed the sides of her beach ball belly, offering a target, “Here…” she panted out in between thrusts, “Cum on my stomach…” Josh pulled out and shot his seed across the underside of Chrissy’s gut. She didn’t waste time leaning back, rubbing it in, spreading the semen over her bloated tummy, broad circles, trying to release the pressure. She burped, and fell limp in the couch, smiling, drinking in the moment. There was no room for Josh on the couch with her; she took up too much room. He flopped onto the nearby recliner and stared, glassy-eyed and grinning. She was perfect. They slept in the next morning.
  8. Hey there ! I wanted to pop in & start a thread all about me kinda nervous though. So many beautiful women up on here. I’ve been apart of the community a long time now. I have been distant more recently but I am done with that! It is possible you might recognize my belly from the old YouTube days in the early 2010’s. It is where it all started for me. I had gained a lot of weight unintentionally ( at first) and realized this really turns me on. And had to explore it. I then began documenting it all for those to see. Showing off how disproportionately big my belly is. Over the course of 12 years I’ve gained 150+ lbs. I am done being dormant in the community and just want to show off, eat some more and grow. I even did something and released a video back on YouTube for nostalgias sake 😂 I love this community and feel more confident than I ever have. So I’m happy to be here ☺️
  9. Stuffing myself all day, and then hiding the evidence became the new normal about 60 pounds ago. But now I'm trying to secretly keep eating even when not alone. Take today for example. I found myself so big and bloated by midday I couldn't resist video taping my enormous belly. But come dinnertime, after finishing my meal of a double burger with fries and a couple of beers, I found myself standing in the kitchen finishing his leftovers. There I stood shoving what he couldn't finish into my already stuffed gut as fast as I could not wanting to be discovered. Yeah, it's exciting, trying hard not to get caught, but honestly why bother. No one is ever going to come in and find me, no one is ever going to look at the empty containers in the trash and figure out my secret, no one is ever going to see me sitting on the kitchen floor with my bloated belly out stuffing my face with two hands. But still I hide and play this game with myself just for the thrill. Because it feels good. Because it excites me to pretend someone might discover me, might notice, might watch with surprise. But why bother to hide. Maybe it's time to just come out of the shadows and eat all I want right in front of his eyes. What do you think? Secret stuffing is super exciting -or- public pigging out is the way to go?
  10. A story I'd been planning, its first chapter was moved up in my schedule due to @ES-Draws great sketches. The Sorceress’ Stress Snacking Chapter 1: White Orchard Geralt stepped out of the White Orchard Inn and into the night in a foul mood. Three days full of far more violence than the grey haired witcher preferred had passed since he’d arrived in the Temerian village in search of his lost love Yennefer. He’d chased rumors of the elusive sorceress, who despite her famed and unique looks was impossible to track down, across the war ravaged landscape. Nekkers, drowners, ghouls, wolves, dogs and bandits had died by his sword, before he’d ultimately found a lead from the local Nilfgardian garrison, at the price of slaying a dangerous griffon. His reward had been to find that Yennefer was at the Nilfgardian court in conquered Vizima, less than a day’s ride away. And then he’d had to kill an inn full of idiotic thugs after collecting his mentor, the elderly Vesimir. “Ugh, getting involved never turns out well,” Geralt grunted, wiping off his steel sword and sheathing it. “No, but you never learn, do you? Might not want to put that away yet,” Vesimir agreed, “hooves and armor are coming, we should go.” The two witcher’s sharp ears heard the rattle of armor and the clomp of hooves, war horses and cavalry. No matter which side in the great northern war the horsemen belonged too, the pair of witchers were covered in blood and there were half a dozen dead men behind them. In Geralt’s experience, that was difficult to explain. But just as he reached his trusty horse Roach, the wandering monster hunter paused. Because his enhance scent had just picked up, over the smell of horse sweat and armor polish, the faint perfume of lilac and goose berries. “Hold on, I think our mission just solved itself,” Geralt rasped, watching the squad of cavalry come out of the night. There were several Nilfgardian troopers in their traditional black and gold plate, but Geralt barely noticed them. For as they dismounted, a small framed woman in their midst, dwarfed by the size of a borrowed destrier, stepped down onto a high heeled boot. The Witcher had seen many a stunning sight in his day, from the burning palaces of kings to the angry roars of a dragon at close range, but nothing would ever give him as much pause as seeing Yennefer of Vengerburg. The smell of her perfume was strong, its rich scent striking in the muddy village. In the moon light the ivory skin of her smooth face seemed to glow, her black curls catching the stars. She was dressed in a black gown, cut low to show cleavage and slit to show thigh high boots, high heeled to make up for her short height. “Geralt, covered in blood and running out of town. I see not much has changed,” Yennefer said coyly, her incredibly posh and melodious voice dripping with sarcasm. “And I see not much has changed with you,” Geralt said, suddenly noticing as she stepped up that things very much had. For one thing, the Nordling sorceress was working with the Nilfgardian Empire despite having been instrumental in defeating it in the first Northern War. For another and well, even Geralt with his superhuman eye for detail didn’t quite believe it at first. But a glance confirmed it, despite his disbelief. Yennefer had gained a good fifteen pounds. The chances of this were bafflingly low. Yennefer was brave, resourceful, curious, determined and caring but she was also immensely vain, she began every day with an hour of carefully applied makeup to her already beautiful face. She dressed stylishly and paid very careful attention to her appearance, her perfect looks an advertisement for her powers. But Geralt couldn’t deny the evidence of his eyes, having known every inch of her body he gave her another glance from ankles on up. Most of Yen’s legs were blocked by her tightly buckled black boots, but her right thigh was easy to see. Geralt remembered a wide gap between the raven beauty’s thighs, but now a thin, but soft layer of fat coated her upper leg, ivory flesh poking through the lace of her tights. They weren’t big, most noble women who’d had a baby would have killed to have thighs so slim, but now there was a pinchable bit of excess across her legs. Going up, Geralt was struck by the breadth of the brunette’s hips. Yennefer’s looks had been girlish in the extreme, despite being a hundred years old she didn’t look a day over twenty, but she’d always been just slightly pear shaped, her butt large and round and her hips quite round, if rather firm. Now looking at her, Geralt could see how she’d gotten wider, the curve of her hip stretching the seam of her skirt tight. Yennefer’s waist wasn’t much changed from its old tiny 20 inch span...but that was because the sorceress was wearing a corset. The underbust girdle was laced very tightly, obviously pushing hard against something quite soft on the inside. Corsets weren’t uncommon for rich women, exercise was seen as manish and undignified, but as a sorceress Yennefer’s body was a plaything of her powers, letting her keep an absolutely tiny waistline that she was quite proud of. That she was now wearing the restrictive shapewear spoke to a rather drastic change. Continuing up, Geralt was very surprised by the change to Yennefer’s chest. The sorceress had a physique suitable B cup before, quite pert and perky but rather small, as well as a disdain for women with large busts, thinking that any breast bigger than a handful was a sign of low class crudeness. That too had changed, the sorceress finding at least a cup size of soft tit. They seemed even larger thanks to the under bust corset, the brunette flashing cleavage for the first time. “Are you done staring yet, Geralt?” flashed into the witcher’s brain. Slightly startled, he looked up from his telepathic ex-lover’s breast to her face. Yennefer put on enchanted glamour makeup first thing every morning and touched it up several times per day, meaning that she looked impossibly gorgeous without a single mark, scar or bulge. But Geralt could slightly detect a softness to her sharp cheekbones, making her look less imperial and regal and more...approachable. “Hard not too when you look that good,” the Witcher returned mentally, knowing that the rather boundary challenged brunette frequently read his thoughts. Her eyes widened in surprise, a slight redness rising to her cheeks. That was odd, Yennefer lived for compliments and it shouldn’t surprise her to be praised. “I...you are too kind, but we should be going,” Yennefer said, ending the mental link and returning to her horse, “come, the Emperor himself wishes to speak to you.” Yennefer strode up to her destrier, an immense gray warhorse that towered over the small woman. It snorted softly, whinnying in affection as she got to the stirrup and put her small, booted foot in. Geralt’s sharp eyes saw the faint jiggle in her thigh as she stood up and swung her leg over the saddle. And how she checked the fit of her corset upon sitting, tugging the tight leather and whale bone down. …. A few hours separated the pair’s next meeting, along with a chase by the ghostly riders of the wild hunt and a meeting with the powerful Emperor of Nilfgaard. “You’ve been informed by the Emperor?” Yennefer asked Geralt as he walked into her chambers at the Vizima palace. He was in a tight set of black hose and dublet, Nilfgardian court fashion. It showed off his muscles well and Yennefer felt herself getting moist at the sight. A hundred years old she might be, but the sorceress had the libido of her maiden’s body and hadn’t had sex in months. His lean muscles, his dangerous scars, his growling voice, the glowing predator’s eyes, all of it was combining to make her wet as a bride on her wedding day. Yennefer needed her brains fucked out desperately by him, all the old emotions of him caring for her swirling back. But she pushed the urge down, still feeling angry and bitter over the knowledge he’d slept with Triss...and terrified to be seen without her corset. A pang of bitter anger hit her stomach and Yennefer soothed it, hand darting to a small box on her desk and drawing out a succulent chocolate cookie. “Yes, Ciri’s is both alive back in our world,” the Witcher said with a shake of his head, “I can barely believe it. Why would she return?” “We don’t know, but if she’s here, well...she’s my daughter Geralt, not in blood but in everything that matters,” Yennefer told him, “and I *munch* am going to do everything I can to help her.” “Of course, she’s my daughter too in all that counts. But Yenn...are you alright? You’re not acting like yourself,” Geralt asked. Yennefer felt her cheeks color, to her shame. She had the urge to read his mind, but was certain she already knew what he was thinking. He was surely examining the damage done to her body by months of over eating, comparing the lardy she-walrus with the slender, nymph-like woman he’d once loved. Gods she’d gotten fat, every ounce of this wobbling jiggle disgusted her with every moment. She’d had to change and bathe after the flight from the wild hunt due to how sweaty she’d gotten and every moment had been agony, touching her newly soft and jiggling belly… “I’m fine, truly. Just a bit *munch* distracted,” Yennefer said, swallowing a cookie, not thinking about what number it was, “Ciri has me worried is all…” Unfortunately her corset had been damaged in the flight, an errant branch ripping a panel. Yennefer hadn’t had her mending cantrip prepared that day either and had stubbornly refused to buy more, denying that she truly needed it. So she was forced to speak to Geralt without its constraining effect, to her shame. The sorceress had changed into a long black gown with white pinstripes, her favorite colors. Unfortunately the Yennefer it had been stitched for was quite a bit bigger, making it snug as a glove. Pinstripes were supposed to lead the eye up to pert breasts or down to girlish hips, the snug and low cut gown showing both off quite well. Unfortunately the dress was cut for her old tiny, 20 inch waist and while it could fit her fuller one, she’d had to suck her stomach in to get it laced up. Even fully laced, the new roundness at her belly was quite plain to see through the thin fabric. She had it sucked it and it still wasn’t completely flat! Gods, it was disgusting, soft as her breasts and somehow bouncier. Worse, this was one of her looser dresses. Yennefer had to confront the fact that she’d have to secure newer, larger clothes if she wasn’t able to get this problem in hand and soon...yet more reasons to find Ciri! “She gave me a great gift, love for a daughter, that I’d thought I’d never have,” Yennefer finished, eating another cookie to cover her horrific embarrassment at looking like such a pig, “but we’ve got some evidence for her location, come…” Together they looked over evidence of Ciri’s reappearances in the neutral city of Novigrad, the war torn land of Velen and the Skellige Isles. Always their adopted daughter, a tall green eyed lass with ashen hair, appeared in a flash of light pursued by ghostly horsemen. Geralt stood quite close to Yennefer, who’s face began to redden. Despite her anger, despite her shame, she was still very, very attracted to him. Her pale face began to flush, while her enlarged nipples hardened, beginning to poke through the thin fabric. While she didn’t mind the extra bust size, the way they showed off her arousal annoyed her deeply, making her feel like her sexuality was out of control. The Sorceress went to eat another cookie to cover her arousal, focusing on the oncoming sugar and spice instead, only to find she’d run out of them. Nimble fingers flickered inside the tin, only to accidentally knock it to the ground! Her eyes widened in shock and shame, the sorceress forget her telekinesis and lurched for the tin only to be stopped by a loud, undeniable rip from her midsection. Yennefer froze solid, as if she’d been caught by the White Frost itself, barely noticing Geralt swiftly snatching the tin out of mid air. “Careful there, its a nice tin. Enchanted to make more sweets, right?” the gruff Witcher asked, “I recognized it from when you were tutoring Ciri…” Yennefer gulped, words failing her for once. He was going to say something terrible to her and the only way to stop it was by admitting it. “I...let’s deal with the elephant in the room, yes?” Yennefer asked calmly, “You can go on and say it, I already know.” “...Say what Yen?” he asked her, eyebrow arched. She glared, a petulant gesture but one she couldn’t stop. “I’m fat, Geralt,” she seethed, poking her side. Her dress had ripped vertically, a pinstripe coming apart to reveal a bulge of soft white flesh. “I’ve put on a full stone and its made of pure lard. I’m hideous, the size of a bridge troll,” the angry mage seethed, breathing in deep for a diatribe, “so don’t go pussy footing around and thinking you can hide your disgust over my slovenly, flabby form behind your stoic facade. I’m certain you are ready to run off to that ginger floozy with her flat stomach and hard thighs and I...mmmmmm.” Geralt surprised her, leaning in quick as a cat and kissing her. Witcher’s were mutants, suffused with magic and their skin hummed to a mage, to Yennefer the kiss brought a full body tingle that relaxed her tensed muscles and deflated her ire. “Yen, you look good,” the witcher told her as she broke away. “I...you’re lying, you must be,” she insisted, words stammering, “I’m a wreck, a freak and I… Oh.” She’d reached out to touch his mind, to prove she was lying. And all she’d gotten was an image of him taking her from behind, fingers digging deep into her softer hips. Again, her pale cheeks flushed, this time in lust. “I suppose you aren’t lying,” she admitted, with girlish bashfulness, “still though, an explanation is in order.” “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not surprised, this is the last thing I’d expect to happen to you. Are you cursed?” he told her, “its hard to tell given the amount of enchanted items you carry…but you working for Nilfgard, is the Emperor cursing you? “Partly. I...didn’t quite have an option. Unlike you, I teleported into the south without a memory. I was found by the Nilfgardian intelligence service and kept at a chateau until they restored me,” Yennefer said, leaving out the immense and delicious amount of food she’d been plyed with during her stay to keep her docile, “and I...had to swear an oath on my power to work with the Emperor for Ciri’s sake. And for further insurance, I had to submit to a leash…” “A leash?” Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow. Yennefer didn’t need telepathy to know what he was thinking, she herself instantly thought of her softened body, totally bare and wearing a dog’s leash… “Not like that, but yes. A leash, you were probably too busy staring at my breasts but I’ve got a new choker.” She tapped the silver pentagram she wore, its metal gleaming and new. “I can’t cast any sort of beauty spell on myself. Nilfgaard kept its sorceress’ plain and ugly to keep them under control. I’m able to manage my nails and my hair and skin but...weight is a different issue,” Yennefer sighed, tapping the soft fat roll spilling through her ruined dress, “especially as I…well because I eat a bit much. It’s extra motivation to find Ciri quickly, as I grow uglier and uglier…” Born a poor farm girl, despised for many deformities, Yenn had developed a sweet tooth upon her first access to deserts during her training as part of the beautiful elite. And when she got stressed, she dealt with stress by eating. Normally a weight loss spell every few weeks kept her belly suitably flat but now that she couldn’t...and Geralt had put his arms around her shoulders. “Yennefer, some fat isn’t going to make you ugly,” Geralt told her solemnly, “if anything, it suits you.” Yennefer froze, face going beat red as a virgin on her wedding night. That someone could like this...this blubber stupefied her. Yet he wasn’t lying, she could tell that...Gods why must this happen to her? Now? She’d been angry with him over sleeping with her friend, angry with her friend, angry increasingly at herself...ugh, if only she were thinner, she’d take him here and now… Her fingers absentmindly searched the insides of the cookie tin, finding with glee that the tin had had enough time to make another treat. “But anyway, that’s not important. We’re going to find Ciri and get her safe,” she gulped, stepping away quickly and popping more food into her mouth, “there’s three places she might be, Velen, Skellige and Novigrad. I suggest you start in Velen, I’m going to try *munch* Novigrad and we should meet there…” Yennefer stepped away quickly, not quite trusting herself. Because what she hadn’t mentioned was that an old friend of hers was in the free city of Novigrad, someone she needed to have very cross words with...but first, Yennefer needed to figure out if she was angrier at Geralt or Triss for the cheating...and which one she wanted to have sex with the most...
  11. Guest

    Eating Beauty

    Chapter 1: 32F-24-36 ______________________________ Her hand trembled as she placed the large, flat box on the table and slowly, falteringly opened it to reveal the doughnuts within. A double dozen; glazed, tormenting her. The bulky brunette sighed, the tears welling in her eyes as she took the first doughnut and inspected it. "Where's the glamour in this?" she muttered to no one in particular. The sugar rush on her lips was intense and familiar, triggering the binge that swiftly followed. Food addiction had taken over her life. Twenty minutes later only crumbs remained in the box and the brunette, clad in forgiving sweatpants lay crumpled on the floor sobbing tears of humiliation and regret. "How can I have done this to myself?" –––––––––––––––––––– "That's it Kelly-May. Perfect. You're a total goddess. True perfection" The photographer was the only one talking in the East London photostudio and his words were accompanied solely by the 'blink' of the flash units going off, the high-pitched whine of the units recharging and the whirr of fans blowing across the set. In front of him, on the other side of the camera, stood a total goddess. Kelly-May Poplar was the rising star of UK glamour modelling. Having won a 'Search for a Glamour Star" competition just over a year earlier, the 20 year old Londoner had rapidly become one of the most in demand Page 3 Girls and, in hushed tones, was being talked about as one of the all-time greats. She had just signed an exclusive 12 month contract with Bonkers Magazine for a rumoured six figure sum and her life had become a whirlwind of VIP parties and exotic travel. Kelly-May smiled, a mix of girl-next-door charm and coquettish sex symbol. She moved through her poses, her elegance and poise the result of years of dance classes. Her looks were dramatic; the drop-dead gorgoeus brunette was half-Portuguese and was frequently compared to the actress Anne Hathaway in terms of looks. Below the neck, however, Kelly-May couldn't be any more different. 32F-24-36 Those statistics spoke for themselves. And so much had been written about those incredible, all-natural breasts. She was slender and fine-boned but blessed with bountiful, full, fabulous breasts. She had won the genetic lottery. The photographer came to the end of his run. "I think we got what we need" smiled the photographer, "come and take a look" Kelly-May smiled as she confidently strode over to gather round the laptop with the photographer and his team. She was a woman comfortable in her own skin. The photographer's assistant scrolled through the captured images on the laptop. Kelly-May beamed and kissed the photographer playfully on the cheek. "I don't know how you do it, Ian, but you make me look amazing" Ian visibly blushed. "Well, it's because I only work with the best. One of these shots will get used for a Page 3 feature next week, the others will go into the Bonkers website they are building for you" "That's great" replied Kelly-May. "Tell my agent all the details. We'll get the next shoot lined up after that, OK?" Before Ian could reply, Kelly-May was already striding torwards the dressing room, her eyes briefly resting on the untouched table of food, mostly sweets and pastries, to one side of the studio. She could still remember the mantra her agent taught her when she signed with her agency. The two golden rules: don't get fat and don't lose the boobs. ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– By the following Tuesday, the editor and picture editor at a well-known, tabloid newspaper were choosing the image they would print the following day on Page 3. "She looks amazing" cooed the picture editor pointing out the image where Kelly-May was the epitome of slim, stacked perfection. "That's got to be the one" agreed the editor "I tell you what, if that girl can hold it all together, she's gonna be a massive star" The picture editor nodded "I knew she was going to be big when she won the competition. I'll get this one over to the caption team and we'll figure something witty and topical" he chuckled. "Yeah, but no politics, OK?" reminded the Editor "We got so much stick for that. Run something about that female pop star who has got fat" –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– Kelly-May still lived with her parents. And breakfast was a family affair. The newspaper had been delivered and Kelly-May, drinking her first coffee of the day, immediately turned to Page 3. She had become used to the idea of a photo of her topless appearing across almost an entire day and she smiled, feeling satisfied at what Ian and his team had achieved. Her eyes turned to the caption, something that normally passed her by, but this time caught her attention: Kerry-May was saddened to hear about the plight of overweight teen pop star Zoe Davies. She said: 'I wish her all the luck in the world with losing the weight. I hope she gets all the hope possible" "What the fuck?" muttered Kerry-May to nobody in particular. "I didn't say that!" Kerry-May knew who Zoe Davies was. As one third of the all-girl band In Trinity, she had lit up the charts with a string of number one hits two years earlier. The tour which followed was overloaded with both expectation and too many dates. And when a vocal strain knocked Zoe off the tour, a steroids prescription resulted in a rapid weight gain that paved the way to depression and Zoe's once flawless figure being consumed by a perfect firestorm of compulsive overeating. Dumped by the band management and replaced, Zoe had eaten her feeling with predictable results. The previous week the tabloids had all run paparazzi shots of a sad, bloated Zoe being led into a weight loss clinic. Kerry-May paused, looking at the caption, puzzled at who wrote it, but suddenly very aware that she and Zoe were somwhow now linked to one another. [to be continued...]
  12. Anyone else watch the new Fantasy Island?? The newscaster just… wants to eat a buffet! As soon as she said she just wanted to eat as much as she wanted without gaining, I was like… 😳💕🐷 but what if gaining…??
  13. I wanna see y’all’s dinner photo shoots & recipes/ meals. I’ll periodically be posting mine below 😍
  14. Hi everyone! I'm new to this site – but not to stuffing myself! Growing up, I had always struggled with my weight. I always wanted to eat and feel full, but family and friends alike made comments on my weight and how it'll affect my life. I was always fat, but I only just started actively gaining about a year and a half ago. I stayed around 250-270 for most of my teens and just recently shot up to 370 within the last year, all thanks to my terrific feeder. I am always looking to keep my big belly full and I love to messily stuff myself, burp, and feel bloated after drinking soda. After I finally succumbed to my desires of eating, I find myself so much happier. If there's one thing I will always tell people, it's to just let go. Eat and play as you please. Also, if anyone's interested I'm always looking for friends! Hmu!
  15. First time writing fiction and first time posting on this forum. Any feedback welcome Part 1 - The Date Lauren stared at her phone, taking a moment to process the contents of the message she’d just received from her last Tinder date, “you’re really nice, I just don’t think we’re right for each other, sorry.” She felt the usual pang of disappointment that follows such a rejection, but frustration had become the dominant emotion in this recurring situation. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge had all been failing her since she’d moved to London last year for her new job. None of her friends from university had moved to the same city since graduating and her job in finance surrounded her with men more than twice her age. Casual hookups from the aforementioned apps had consistently left her sexually and emotionally unsatisfied, so she was now looking for “something more serious.” Lauren had always been proud of her body, even if the attention made her uncomfortable at times. She had black South African parents but had been born and raised in the UK, so she was acutely aware that her curves were considered ‘extreme.’ They’d attracted mocking at first, and then harassment from horny boys as she progressed through her teens. She learnt to fight back in the absence of support from authority figures, imbuing in her a steely sense of independence and a refusal to feel embarrassed, particularly as big butts and body positivity suddenly became popular in the West. This cultural change felt like a vindication on her part, although her mid-section was relatively flat despite being ‘overweight’ (“over what ‘weight’ exactly?” she’d always asked herself.) In her mind, a prominent belly would even her proportions out, but she was conscious that there were women who would commit cold-blooded murder just to have her figure, so she never complained. A message from her friend Katie flashed up on the screen, “It’s a numbers game Lauren, you just need to keep at it. I must have gone on 50 dates before I met David.” She was right, and David was a knockout too - muscular but slim, blonde curly hair, and classically handsome. Katie was a big girl, and Lauren would chastise herself when the thought of those two in bed crossed her mind. She didn’t consider herself bisexual, but her admiration for Katie’s huge round belly and tree trunk thighs bordered on attraction. Both her and Katie liked being bigger than their male partners; “it makes me feel powerful,” Katie had giggled over one of their recent coffee catch-ups. She was right about it being a numbers game though, and Lauren felt optimistic about the date she had lined up for tonight. He had a well-paying career and a physique not dissimilar to Katie’s boyfriend David. Unlike David though, he had wavy brown hair and softer features. They hadn’t spoken much (she had a burning hatred of endless Tinder conversations that went nowhere) but he’d come across as a bit shy and awkward in their limited conversation so far. Lauren couldn’t help but like that, she felt it gave more room to be herself, and she needed a lot of room. She started squeezing into a tight low-cut red dress. As she tried to pull the dress over her huge ass the fat around her hips gathered into bigger saddlebags, which she eventually wrestled the sides of her dress over. Once she’d got it on and zipped it up, she admired herself in the mirror. Her huge hips gave her ass a wide frame, which she’d filled out over the years as she’d relentlessly stuffed her face with anything she fancied. She could see those saddlebags in the outline of her dress, albeit smaller now she had the dress on. She also admired the outline of her belly, which had grown since she’d last worn the dress. In spite of this, her waist was less constricted by her dress than any other part of her body. Lauren turned around and smiled at the sight of the cellulite on the back of her thighs, her backfat had also begun to form a mini muffin top. She felt like it could split at any moment. She sat down on a small stool in front of her make-up mirror, practically swallowing the stool under her enormous pair of cheeks. Mid-way through applying some bold red lipstick to her plump lips, her phone buzzed with a message from her date - “on my way!” She looked at the time, “shit, I’m late.” Quickly finishing her make-up, she donned a black leather jacket, grabbed her purse, ordered an Uber, and dashed out the door. He was already there when she arrived and seemed to be the only person in the restaurant that didn’t notice her as she approached the table. His gaze shot up and he froze for a second, taken aback by her sheer thickness. She was used to such a hesitation and patiently smiled as he abruptly got up from his seat and offered to take her jacket. Once they were both seated conversation flowed well, even if only the usual small talk and surface-level chat about friends and family. Conversation quickly turned to the menu, and Lauren enthused about at least a few options from each course, including the sides. She’d chosen one of her favourite restaurants, a fancy steakhouse that had a decadent menu vaguely reminiscent of TGI Fridays - plenty of meat, fat and sugar. A waitress glided over to the table to take their order, Lauren immediately recognising her from her last couple of visits. She was gorgeous and had the body of a typical Instagram model, with a firm perky ass, boobs that gave her ample cleavage and barely a waist to speak of. “Nice to see you back again!” she said, exposing Lauren’s eating habits to the surrounding tables. As they exchanged pleasantries, Lauren glanced at her date to gauge his reaction to the waitress. Not that it would have been an issue, but he didn’t seem to be mentally fucking her as Lauren expected. Maybe she just wasn’t his type. Lauren ordered herself a strong cocktail, before continuing straight onto her food order of a starter, 2 mains and 2 sides. This is the point at which she’d lost the interest of about half of her previous dates, but it was non-negotiable - she’d rather be single than eat less to keep the interest of a man. She didn’t attract many chubby chasers, just men who thought they liked ‘thick women’, but couldn’t handle a real thick woman’s appetite. That was part of the reason she wanted to be FAT, to scare those men off. She wanted a belly that made her ‘too big’ for them. She quickly evaluated her date’s flustered face for signs of disgust or discouragement but thankfully found none. He quickly ordered a starter and a main, before hastily adding a side, clearly to make her own order seem a bit more normal. That wasn’t necessary, but she appreciated the thought. As they waited for their drinks, James was clearly working up the courage to comment on her food order, eventually joking, “so you like the food here huh?” and nervous gauging her reaction. She laughed slightly too loud in an attempt to put his worries at ease, “yeah I love it here, the portions are great too.” He visibly relaxed in his chair a bit, but his interest was now fixed on her as she gushed about the menu, her little double-chin making an appearance every time she smiled. Before they knew it, the cocktails arrived and Lauren began gulping her way through hers, which seemed to use the largest glass in the restaurant. She’d finished hers and another was on its way by the time their starters arrived. Her order of a baked camembert with a pile of fresh bread seemed more befitting of a main, but James made no mention of that, for fear of making her self-conscious. After practically swallowing the camembert and bread basket whole, her second cocktail arrived as she’d begun to feel the effects of the first. James was still making his way through his more modest starter of garlic bread, but was transfixed on Lauren as she happily spoke at length about her career, friends and family. His physical attraction was clear, but the date was going well anyway and they had clear emotional chemistry going on. Lauren instantly felt more relaxed than she had on a date in ages. She absentmindedly began rubbing her belly while sipping on her second cocktail, the starter had barely made a dent in her hunger and the main courses were taking a while to arrive. “Sorry for the wait” the waitress apologised, dropping off a bowl of olives drenched in oil at the table, “a little something for the wait.” She worked her way through the bowl, popping a few olives in her mouth at a time. A drop of oil ran down the side of her mouth, over her jaw and then her modest second chin, revealing a shiny trail of black skin in her foundation. It had reached the base of her neck by the time James pointed it out and she quickly dabbed it with a napkin before it reached her cleavage. She excused herself to go fix her make-up, knocking over a pepper shaker with her ass in the process. James quickly picked it up, conscious that her bending over could destroy the dress, she thanked him bashfully and walked as fast as she could to the bathroom to save further embarrassment. She was just glad it hadn’t been a wine glass for once. As she fixed her make-up in the mirror, she noticed the outline of her belly had grown slightly more prominent after eating, despite her stomach still feeling almost empty. She was thoroughly enjoying the date so far and those surprisingly strong cocktails had made her pleasantly tipsy. As she finished reapplying her lipstick and adjusting her cleavage to be a tad more generous, her stomach growled at her. She hoped the hold-up in the kitchen wouldn’t last much longer. Leaving the bathroom, she noticed food arriving at their table across the room. She hot-stepped back to her date, careful to avoid knocking over any more tableware with her booty, and took a seat in front of the mountain of food she’d ordered. A large rack of ribs lay on the plate before her, next to a chicken burger, a sharing-size bowl of mac and cheese, and practically a bucket of fries. She became conscious of the usual glances from other tables and looked up at her date, partly to check that he was still there and hadn’t been embarrassed by her unashamed display of gluttony. To her pleasant surprise, his face was a mixture of shock and excitement. “Never seen a big girl eat before?” she joked, as she cleaned the meat from the first rib in one bite. “I have actually, and they don’t eat like you. I ordered you another drink by the way,” he said, motioning to her empty glass with a smile. She shot him a smile back in between ribs, sauce already running onto her chubby fingers. She stuffed handfuls of fries into her mouth in between ribs and had soon cleared the plate in front of her. She took a breather and focused on the conversation at hand, which had continued to be engaging throughout her gorging. She was proud of her ability to hold a conversation while demolishing plates of food and he made for a good conversation partner. She was beginning to feel the effects of that third cocktail too, which had only increased her appetite. As James made slow but steady progress through his burger and fries, she took the first bite of her burger and pushed the remainder of her fries into her already stuffed mouth. With cheeks like a hamster’s, Lauren accidentally eye contact with a rail thin blonde woman at another table. She immediately looked the other way. Lauren realised she might have gotten carried away, but shrugged and took another huge bite. She was still chewing when she loaded up a big spoon of mac and cheese, giving herself a moment to swallow first this time. “Wanna try some?” she asked James, who was clearly suppressing a big grin. It was rare for a date not to be put off by Lauren’s ‘unladylike’ behaviour, so she considered the date so far a success, even if she didn’t want to get her hopes up. She proffered the spoon and leaned forward to put it in his mouth. In the process, he was able to get a good look at her generous cleavage, having made a conscious effort up to now to avoid staring. No sooner than the spoon had left his lips was she loading it up again and putting it between her own lips, which now had a shiny layer of grease covering them. She could now feel her belly pressing against the edge of the table and her ass hanging over the sides of her chair. She knew she looked like a total pig and couldn’t help but get a kick out of it, part of her wanted to see how far she could push her date, but she reigned herself in and finished off her burger with relative dignity. She felt totally stuffed as she finished off the last few bites of her mac and cheese. Part of her wished she’d worn jeans so she could unbutton them, instead her bloated belly protruded against her dress, making her look practically pregnant. She leaned back into her chair and smiled with satisfaction at her date, who’d finished his burger and fries some time ago. She felt thankful that food absorbs alcohol, as she was on her 5th cocktail now and felt thoroughly jolly. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom” she said, as she shifted her weight in preparation to get up from her chair. Her stomach groaned for a split second and she involuntarily let out a massive belch. Thankfully the restaurant was packed and the background music and chatter covered most of the sound, but it drew disapproving glances from nearby tables. More importantly though, James was laughing. “I’m impressed” he said, which she responded to with a giggle and waddled to the bathroom. Her silhouette was something to behold, not unlike Nicki Minaj when she was pregnant, with another 100lbs on her. James couldn’t help but feel she was kind of out of his league. They had some deep post-dinner conversation when she returned, discussing what they wanted out of life. Fortunately, they were on the same page in that regard - no plans for kids in the near future, marriage a distant possibility. They both had the money and time to focus on themselves, and they liked it that way. The bill arrived and James insisted on paying, which Lauren laughed off and dismissed, “there is no way I’m letting you pay for all my food. I’m a big girl, I can pay for herself,” she said with a wink. “Fine, at least let me pay for dessert, if you have room? I know a good place nearby” he offered. She gladly accepted. After drawing the attention of practically every patron on their way out, they began walking to their destination. James was now able to enjoy a full view of her glorious figure in the glow of the streetlights. He could see the ends of her braids bouncing off her colossal ass and her heavy, full boobs trying to escape with every step. He asked the question he’d wanted to ask all evening, “how are you still single?” She blushed and shrugged, “not everyone can handle a woman like me.” She was tempted to push his limits to see what shameless, unbridled public displays of gluttony he could tolerate. She hesitated at the thought, after all, that kind of behaviour is what had scared off most of her past dates. He might be willing to laugh off some slobbishness, but she was sure he could only tolerate so much. Lauren was out of breath and her thighs had been rubbing throughout the 10 minute walk, so she was relieved when they finally arrived at the dessert place. As with every other man she had approached a door alongside, James open the door for her and admired the view. He was a fervent ass man, but seeing an ass of such massive proportions up-front made him question whether he could handle all that. He batted such doubts aside, knowing that he’d answer if duty called. The restaurant was empty, clearly a hidden gem in an otherwise bustling area of London. To Lauren’s delight, they had booths that would accommodate her hips, so she lead the way to one that looked particularly cosy. “You should try one of the ice cream floats” James said, a suggestion that Lauren gladly took up. The short walk had reignited her hunger, so she ordered a fudge sundae to accompany it and a beer for the wait. The intoxicating effects of the delicious cocktails she’d had earlier had begun to wane, and she was reassured that the conversation remained interesting to her. Their beers soon arrived and she took several big gulps, suppressing her need to burp. She debated going to the bathroom to let some gas out, but their sundaes and floats soon arrived too. He was right, the desserts were delicious. She shovelled spoonfuls of the ice cream, fudge chunks and syrup mix into her mouth. Her belly began to feel thoroughly stuffed, rubbing against the edge of the table every time she moved. She absentmindedly massaged it as she continued to plough her way through the mound of dessert in front of her. She’d begun sipping on her ice cream float, clearly slowing down from the sheer quantity of food that she had already ingested. She let out an involuntary groan and laughed at herself, only to let slip a deafening, prolonged “urrrrrrrp” in the process. Thankfully the only member of staff had gone into the kitchen, but she looked across to her date to gauge his reaction. It was the same mix of shock and excitement as earlier. “You like to indulge, don’t you?” he asked with a wry smile. “Yes, I do. Because I deserve it” she replied. “Come here,” she patted the space to the side of her in the booth. He gladly obliged. She was only 5’8 and him 6’1, but she seemed to tower over him from the added height her ass gave her when sat down. She picked up her sandae, which had mostly melted at this point, and handed it to him. “What am I doing with this?” he asked, with a blank expression. She smiled, tipped her head back, opened her mouth and pointed towards it. He was taken aback, but enthusiastically complied. As he tipped the dish into her mouth, he could see the liquid ice cream and streaks of chocolate syrup dropping in and straight down her throat. Once it was all gone, she licked her lips, thanked him and leaned in for a kiss, James’ lips quickly meeting her own. Her big, thick lips felt comforting to kiss, and the trace of sugar he could taste was a sexy reminder of her appetite. They parted and he returned to his side of the booth. She finished her ice cream float, letting out a few burps and rubbing her belly as she did so. “See this is how big I wish it was” she said, looking down at her bulging belly. James was in awe of how pregnant she looked, she really did have a food baby. “I’d be privileged if I could help you achieve that goal” he offered. “Are you asking me out on a second date?” Lauren replied, followed by a giggle that showed off her double chin. James nodded and she gladly accepted his offer. They paid the bill and left. “I’d invite you round to my place to continue the evening, but I’m up early tomorrow” she said. He was in the same position, so they agreed to part ways for the evening. She looked even more radiant now she’d stuffed herself full of food, the only word that sprung to his mind when admiring her body was “voluptuous.” They kissed again and he watched her walk off in the opposite direction, his gaze transfixed on her huge ass, bouncing with every step. His phone flashed. “I know you’re looking at it ;)”
  16. BBW, Stuffing, Weight Gain, Stuckage, Expansion. A cheerleader with a rotten attitude and a superiority complex is supernaturally taught a lesson by a mysterious young woman. Also includes supernatural weight switching, schadenfreude. Tiaras to Tootsie Rolls By polarisdreamer Act 1- Cheer full “You got pulled over again?! You need to be more careful!” Natalie scolded her foolhardy friend over the phone. “Whatever! The policeman didn’t even give me a ticket!” Addison scoffed, paying little attention to her friend’s worries. “What?! Did you cry your way out of it or something?” Natalie questioned, as she remembered an instance during her own life that she had sobbed her way out of receiving a speeding ticket. “I didn’t even have to! I guess speeding isn’t a crime if you look drop dead gorgeous! Hahaha!” Addison laughed, while she remembered how distracted the police officer had been with her body. She had quickly straightened her lovely short blonde hair and arched her back to make her already generous c-cup cleavage pop to attention. The poor guy could barely stutter the warning he gave her before returning to his car to contemplate the good fortune he had to look upon the goddess Addison believed herself to be. “Still. You shouldn’t drive so fast.” Natalie reminded her. “Excuse me! I have places to be and I’m not going to drive like a grandma!” Addison sneered, as she looked both ways before running a stop sign on the empty summer campus. “What’s that sound? Are you driving right now?!” Natalie muttered. “I’m going to the gym. I gotta stay in sexy shape for cheerleading preseason on Monday!” Addison reminded her, as she noticed the gym parking lot in the distance. “I thought you were living on campus this summer? Why aren’t you walking?” Natalie asked. “Please. I don’t want to get all gross and sweaty before I get to the gym! You know there are other people on campus, right?” Addison explained, switching the hand she was holding her phone with. “I don’t even know why I asked. How is the internship?” Natalie sighed. She realized complaining about her friend’s driving was going to get her nowhere. “Over! I’ve got nothing to do until preseason!” Addison giggled, as she found a spot right near the main door of the gym. The parking lot was pretty empty so Addison had plenty of spaces to choose from. “Staying in shape?” Natalie inquired. “I’m always in shape!” Addison burst taking pride in her naturally appealing body, fast metabolism, and athletic gifts. “Excited to see Benny?” Natalie asked hoping to finish up the conversation so she could haul her own body over to her hometown’s gym. “Yesss! I miss my quarterback! He’s been texting me nonstop! Just think, if I make cheer captain this year then we’ll be like a couple from a movie or something! Haha!” Addison gushed at her own good fortune. “Well, I can’t wait to see you! I’ll catch you at cheer practice on Monday!” Natalie enthusiastically responded. “Love you too pretty lady! Buh-bye!” Addison grinned, as she hung up her cell phone threw it in her purse and opened the door of her yellow 1972 corvette stingray. Addison’s father was a car fanatic and spent most of his leisure time working on fixing up old luxury cars. Addison never really paid his hobby any interest until her friends started getting cars in high school. After much insistence, Addison convinced her father to paint his prized, red stingray, yellow and give it to her as her first car. Addison quickly fell in love with the powerful vehicle. Her father was content that he made his only child so happy. Addison felt the summer heat as her luscious lean legs swung out of the car. She was wearing a revealing and stylish pair of light green running shorts that had some pretty black strips on the sides. The shorts contained her athletic butt and glimmered in the sunlight as Addison maneuvered her hourglass frame completely free of her shiny car. Stretching slightly, Addison adjusted her short white athletic tank top. It revealed her toned and sexy midriff and also drew attention to her generous breasts. Her blonde hair fell about to her shoulders and fluttered in the warm summer breeze. At 5’8 and 126lbs, Addison was everything society deemed attractive, and she loved to let people behold her perfection. It was one of the major reasons why she became a cheerleader. As she entered the sparsely populated school gym, even her walk served to show off her impressive physique. Addison loved when the boys wearing muscle shirts would pause from their workout bench pressing to take a gander at her. For their trouble Addison swayed her hips side to side with each step so her perfectly toned bubble butt would shake in just the right way. Even the girls on the treadmills and the ones on the mats would stop to look at Addison’s ripe perfection. Whether by envy, jealousy, appreciation, or infatuation, even their stares filled Addison with glee. To be noticed by all and worshiped by most was enough to make Addison smile ear to ear on even her worst day. After strolling over to a treadmill away from the few other girls occupying her part of the gym, Addison got on and set the speed to something manageable and listened to some music while she began her jog. After about ten minutes Addison had broken a sweat and her flawless skin glimmered while another girl approached. Addison heard her step onto the treadmill next to her. After a quick glance she observed a frumpy girl begin to gallop on the treadmill. The loud steps were quite distracting, and Addison couldn’t seem to tune it out with her music. To make it worse when she shot this stranger an annoyed glare the girl had the nerve to speak to her. “Hello. I’m Aria.” Aria smiled. She was pretty short, maybe about 5 feet tall. Her lack of height certainly didn’t help with her weight problem. The girl’s body appeared plump around her bulging middle and thick around her fat butt. Her olive skin seemed puffy around her face. She had all the signs of a slob. “Umm. Hi.” Addison replied dismissively. She hoped to ignore this pip-squeak until she left. “Lovely day, huh?” Aria smiled, as Addison turned up the volume of her music. “Yeah, I guess.” Addison muttered far too loud. “You know I see you come in her pretty often and all you ever do is jump on the treadmill for twenty minutes. If you worked in some other exercises I think you’d notice an improvement in your conditioning.” Aria explained, while Addison lowered her music and gave Aria a look of disgust. “Umm. I don’t remember asking your opinion.” Addison snobbishly punctuated with a flip of her hair over her shoulder. “Sorry, I was just..” Aria stuttered, as Addison lost patience for this gross loser. “And what would you know about it anyway meatball?” Addison teased, as her vain side began to take over. “Excuse me?” Aria weakly replied, hoping that she was hearing things. She stopped her treadmill as Addison did and the two stepped off to look at each other face to face. Addison towered over her porky peer and grinned. She couldn’t help, but feel superior to this wanna-be. “You heard me chubs! Take a look at me and then take a look at you. I’m thin, sexy, and beautiful and you’re a short, fat meatball! What makes you think you can give me advice on how I exercise?!” Addison barked, placing her hands on her hips and shaking her head disapprovingly as she eyed Aria’s body up and down. “I.. I..” Aria stuttered, while she put her head down in defeat. “I thought so. Talk to me when you lose 40 pounds.” Addison spat, as she punctuated her argument with a firm poke to Aria’s fat belly. “Gross.” Aria didn’t say a word in response. She just turned and walked away with her hand covering her face. Addison thought she might have made the girl cry, but the thought didn’t bother her one bit. Maybe the girl would thank her one day for the wake-up call. Someone couldn’t be that short and fat and actually expect to be happy. Just to spite Aria’s observations Addison more than doubled her daily run and lasted a full 40 minutes on the treadmill. Addison was proud of her efforts, but completely exhausted. Most of the people in the gym who were watching her had left and, as they left, her motivation waned. She couldn’t help it. She was always more motivated in front of a crowd. Not wanting to ruin the seat of her car with sweat, Addison grabbed her sports bag and headed over to the girls locker room to dry off and change her clothes. After drying off with a towel Addison adorned herself in a pair of pink sweatpants and a fresh white tank top. Sure, it wasn’t glamorous, but the only thing Addison had left on her agenda today was to relax. She already moved into her new room on campus two days before Natalie would arrive to be her roommate. However, just as Addison was about ready to leave, she heard a noise from the back of the locker room. She realized it must have been the back door, but the noise still made her jump. “Who’s there?” Addison called out. “I’m sorry am I too fat to get changed in the same locker room as you?” Aria grunted, as the hefty girl turned the corner and walked up behind Addison. She seemed pretty annoyed. “No, you’re allowed. Just don’t get changed right in front of me. Nobody wants to see that. Haha!” Addison laughed, as she turned around and got a look of the chubby girl blushing. “Ugh! How would you know?!” Aria cringed with anger. “Trust me guy’s don’t like the way you look.” Addison snobbishly chattered. “Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder!” Aria argued, as she crossed her arms over her mushy breasts and tensed her shoulders. She looked like she could cry again, how cute. “Said every fat girl ever, hahaha!” Addison laughed. She couldn’t help but smile. “Stop laughing!” Aria demanded. “I’m sorry you’re just very funny! What’s your name again?” Addison sighed, as she tried for the first time to contain herself. “It’s Aria.” Aria collectedly replied. “Aria doesn’t sound like a fat girl name? Weird. Hahaha!” Addison joked, as she pinched Aria’s belly fat and laughed. “That’s it! I was giving you a chance to apologize!” Aria yelled sounding furious. “Come at me meatball! What is a shrimp like you going to do, huh?” Addison egged Aria on, only for the short chubby girl to shove Addison backward. Caught off guard, Addison stumbled backward into her open locker. Her lean body fit right through the tiny locker and she slid against the back of it to land on her prized butt. “Hey! *Oophht!* Oww! What’s your problem are you crazy?!” “No. Not crazy.” Aria calmly muttered in a creepy tone as she walked closer while Addison sat awkwardly in the bottom of the locker. With her legs tangled in front of her and her arms still aligned with her back from trying to break her fall, Addison was in no position to defend herself. Aria bent over with a smile and firmly poked Addison’s exposed belly button with her index finger. Immediately Addison felt a strange paralysis overcome her. She felt warm yet frozen in place. “Ugh! I can’t move?! What are you doing to me?” Addison gasped, as it seemed the only thing she could move was her mouth. As Addison sat awkwardly frozen, Aria leaned her face closer to Addison’s while keeping her finger firmly touching Addison’s belly button. “If I am making skin contact with someone I can transfer their weight onto my frame or I can transfer my weight onto their frame. You see I’m like Robin Hood. I steal fat from the women who deserve to lose it and I give it to the women who deserve to gain it.” Aria evilly smiled, while she shook her big belly roll with her free hand and then pointed at Addison. “You are such a loon!” Addison burst, as part of her felt serious fear mixed in with disbelief. “Am I? Watch this.” Aria grinned, while Addison felt another strange sensation filling her. It felt like she was being stuffed full like a turkey only to have the pressure building up within her gut subside only to be replaced with a much different feeling. “Ahh.. Uggh!” Addison half moaned, as Aria’s prolonged touch to her belly was causing her some strange sexual gratification. “Enjoy it while it lasts.” Aria smirked, as her eyes went to Addison’s middle. Addison followed the strange girl’s gaze only to be bewildered by what she was seeing. Her trim stomach was looking… pudgy?! “My stomach! Ahh! It’s inflating like a balloon!” Addison shrieked. She could only watch in horror with each passing pleasure-filled moment, as her belly continued to enlarge firmly with fat. “Ugh! Stopp!” “Not done inflating you with luscious fat my dear sweet Addison! And, what’s this?! It appears I’m losing those 40 pounds you teased me about! Ha!” Aria laughed, as Addison lifted her gaze and watched in horror as Aria’s once grossly chubby frame now appeared to be leaning out about the same pace as Addison’s body was plumping up. “Uhh.. Uuhhh.. Uhh!!” Addison moaned aggressively, as her body tingled with pleasure. Just as Addison was reaching what felt like a climax, Aria released her finger from Addison’s belly button. As Addison began to catch her breath, she couldn’t process how her body was feeling. “What did you.. do to me.. I feel.. so...” “Heavy?” Aria finished for her. “Hahaha! You look it!” “My stomach.. Wha.. Why is it so huge?! I look pregnant!!” Addison gasped as the numbness was beginning to dissipate and Addison slowly began to regain feeling in her body. Her eyes were shocked by the massive belly she now had. It looked like pure fat and in fact strongly resembled someone nine months pregnant. Its size wedged Addison firmly against the back of the locker, and pinned her arms to her sides as she struggled in vain to squirm herself free. “Yeah I thought about just letting you fill out evenly, but I decided you’d look better with a big round belly!” Aria laughed, as she stood up and took a gander at what she had done to this hopeless girl. “I hope you feel embarrassed every time someone thinks you are knocked up!” “Argh! When I get my hands on you I’ll!” Addison growled, while she tried to push herself forward with her arms to get out of the locker, but something was keeping her wedged in place. “Upt! What?” “You didn’t notice your ass, hips and thighs expanding? Hahaha! I guess you were distracted by your belly. You won’t be catching me anytime soon. Have fun squirming your way out of that locker.” Aria teased, as Addison began to feel her thighs, hips and butt firmly stuck between the sides of the locker. “I’ll scream for help if you don’t change me back!” Addison barked, as she felt into a state of helpless shock. “Go ahead and scream! Do you think anyone will believe you? Do you even want your adoring public seeing you like this?” Aria asked, as she leaned back down and pinched Addison’s lower belly. “…” Addison fumed in silence, as she realized her options were bleak. “I thought so. You couldn’t catch me anyway, ***.” Aria teased, as Addison slightly blushed from embarrassment. Something else seemed odd. As Aria got up to apparently leave. Aria’s body shape looked vastly different. Her fame had gone from resembling an apple to a more hourglass shape. How had she done that? “How did you get so thin?!” Addison asked in a demanding fashion, as she tried to wiggle herself through the locker to no avail. Her pudgy legs remained tangled outside the locker and her wider hips and meatier butt kept her firmly wedged in place. Addison couldn’t even lean forward because of the bowling ball of a belly she now had weighing her down. “When I gave you forty pounds of my fat? Remember? Gosh do you rely so much on your looks that you’ve once never used your brain?” Aria insulted Addison. “Hey! I have a 3.5 grade point average!” Addison roared in protest, as she jiggled side to side in a humorous attempt to free her trapped arms. “Ugh! Get me out of here and change me back! I’m sorry for making fun of you!” “No. You’re sorry that I punished you for your behavior. I’m never changing you back. If you want to be thin again, I suggest you lose the weight the hard way.” Aria smiled, as a look of forlorn dread came over Addison’s pretty face. “No please! I can’t be fat! I have cheerleading preseason and tryouts in two days! All my friends are going to come back then, and I can’t let them see me like this!” Addison panicked, as she flailed her legs in an attempt to hit Aria but missed. “Hey! You should be thanking me! I left your face completely fat free so your friends will all recognizes you. I also left your puny little arms and shoulders thin too, just so your belly thighs and butt will look even more ridiculous. So, just tell your friends that you got carried away with fast food this summer. If they are really your friends, then they’ll accept you the way you are now. And as far as cheerleading is concerned, haha good luck.” Aria chuckled, as she straitened her posture and seemed to tower above Addison’s compromised position. “This isn’t fair!” Addison wined, as her thin cheeks were red from shame and embarrassment. “No. What’s not fair is all the pretty little spoiled princess’s like you thinking they are better than everybody just because of the way they look! People like you teased me and made me hate the way I looked as a kid!” Aria accused, as she seriously scolded Addison. “I.. I..” Addison stuttered lost to find a response to that revelation. “I thought so. Talk to me when you lose forty pounds.” Aria grouchily spoke to Addison, as tears began to form in Addison’s eyes. “How does it feel?” “I don’t like it..” Addison whimpered, as she felt extremely vulnerable. “Well get used to it.” Aria murmured, “One last question before I go. Do you think people will still worship you without your hot body?” “Yes..” Addison quietly muttered to herself, as Aria left the locker room. There was complete silence in the room as the door slowly creaked to a close. As the reality of the situation finally befell Addison, the anger and frustration forced her to yell, “You’ll see you freaky b*tch! This won’t change anything! Everyone is still going to love me!!” Addison found herself huffing as her heart slowly began to stop racing. She was exhausted. Her legs felt like jello and were beginning to lose circulation because of her compromised position, as were her arms. Addison desperately needed to get herself unstuck, but she was in a fix. Her belly was so round with fat that it prevented her from leaning forward. Her thigh, and hips wedged against the sides of the locker prevented her from wiggling straight out. In order to get out she needed to turn sideways, but she couldn’t even use her arms to help herself stand up because they were awkwardly stuck at her sides. Addison had no choice, but to use the only part of her that was free. She scrambled her legs to try and get some traction on the floor. Once she felt satisfied in where she planted her feet, she pushed herself deeper into the locker and freed her hips and thighs from the locker opening. She was now pressed tightly against the back of the locker, but now she could actually maneuver her hips. Using her feet to push herself slightly upward, Addison began to sweat while she slowly turned her body to its side and managed to wiggle her legs into the locker. Struggling, Addison slowly stood upright at a sideways angle. She was careful not to hit her head, but it appeared that the locker was taller than she previously thought, because she had no problem standing up fully straight without bumping her head. Now standing up sideways in the locker, Addison was presented with a new feeling. Her thicker butt was pressing against the metal siding of the locker behind her and her exposed jelly belly was pressing up against the metal siding in front of her. She wasn’t as wedged as she had been, but she was still stuck. As Addison cradled the sides of her soft belly in her hands, she was surprised at how cold and soft it felt. Shuffling sideways and wiggling her belly Addison once again reached the opening of the locker. She tried to force herself through all at once, but it was clear she was a bit too big to fit out that way. She tried to slide her soft belly free from the locker first, but the edge of the opening made it too uncomfortable for Addison’s newly soft midsection. Her next attempt involved sliding her butt through the opening first and after some grunts of frustration one butt cheek managed to slide outside of the narrow opening. Addison’s face cringed as the cold siding that now stuck between her butt cheeks made her feel very uncomfortable. She quickly tried to force the rest of her wider hips and thicker butt out, but it seemed she had only stuck herself more firmly. Addison desperately tried to suck in her belly by holding her breath, and in so doing, barely managed to wiggle herself out of the locker. Addison was finally free, but at what cost? Her pink sweatpants now felt very tight, in fact, painfully tight around her middle. Addison had to untie the string on the pants in order to provide her enlarged belly room to breathe. It was a strange situation for Addison, because she couldn’t see the string of her pants due to her fat belly budged in front of her vision. The way her fat belly stuck out, it honestly looked like she could go into labor any minute. Addison’s white tank top had risen up to her solar plexus and couldn’t hide the increased girth of her fat belly. Addison waddled over to a mirror in shock, as she almost tripped over the fabric of her sweatpants around her ankles. Everything Aria said was true. While Addison appeared to possess the thighs, butt, hips and belly as a fat imitation of a heavily pregnant woman, her face, arms, and boobs had not changed at all. Addison’s c-cups were still hefty as always, but compared to her belly she couldn’t help, but feel they looked smaller by comparison. Addison couldn’t quite place her finger on it, but she felt disoriented. And it was more than just how much weight she had magically accumulated. She felt slow as she walked back to her sports bag. She felt clumsy as she threw it across her shoulder. She felt heavy as she peered out of the girls locker room door. She needed to get out of sight before someone saw her like this. Luckily there was no one in the hallway and Addison hurried to go escape through the gym door. As she trudged along, she wobbled from side to side. Her legs felt near numbness and struggled to support her newfound weight. She almost felt like she was falling forward while she walked. To make matters worse she could feel, with disgust, as her belly bounced up and down and her ass and thighs jiggling with every step. To top it all off, the flip flops Addison had hastily slipped onto her feet seemed dangerously loose, and Addison kept stumbling in them as she tried to hurry to her car. She felt winded and relieved once she managed to open her car door, throw her sports bag into the passenger seat and plop her enlarged butt into the drivers seat. Her heart was racing from the nervous pace she had kept rushing to her car. Finally feeling safe, Addison turned her car on. But something was wrong. Addison looked around and felt the car looked different. As she reached out her foot to tap the brake pedal, Addison realized with shock what was going on. “Why can’t I reach?! Are my legs.. Smaller?! No-no-no! Ahh!” Addison shrieked, as she leaned downward to try and reach the pedals. “Did that b*tch made me fatter and shorter!? How short am I?!” Addison tried to contain her panic and adjusted her seat much closer to the steering wheel. She was annoyed by just how far her belly budged out from her shirt. It was practically touching the wheel. Addison even had to spread her legs to allow her belly room to fit. With a grunt and some pent-up anger, Addison roared her car to life and quickly sped across campus to her recently acquired room. Once she parked outside her dorm, she stormed inside to her room and quickly slammed the door shut. The first thing Addison did once she had a moment to rationally think was dig out a wedgie that had formed because of the way her extremely tight pink sweatpants clung to her inflated rear end. Addison wasn’t used to having such a big butt and observed with frightful embarrassment how her once firm bubble butt had inflated into such a tubby monstrosity. Addison quickly tugged the pants off. The pantlegs were now also much too long for her. That would explain why she was tripping over them earlier in the locker room. Even her feet looked a size smaller, and Addison never had large feet to begin with. Trying to gather her bearings, Addison grabbed her scale from the bottom of her closet and quickly weighted herself. However, once she was on the scale, she realized that her belly was blocking her view of the number. She had to almost half squat forward, much to the protest of her weak thigh muscles, in order to get a good look. She almost shed a tear when she saw 168lbs staring back at her. She had only been 126lbs that morning. Addison was silent in her internal agony as she forced herself to check on other necessities. The next item on the to-do list was to check her height. Addison kept a tape measure on her shelf in the closet, so she hurried over to grab it. There was just one problem. As Addison stretched upward to the shelf, she realized that she was too short to reach it. In an annoyed effort Addison jumped only to lift herself mere inches higher off the ground. After a few more frustrated jumps and missed reaches, Addison was red faced and out of breath. Only as her heart raced and sweat began to fall from her forehead did Addison think to grab the chair from her desk to stand on. Once she got the tape measure, she wasted no time in discovering that she now only stood 5’3! Her height had shrunk by five inches because of that freak Aria! Addison only had one reaction to this realization and to the fact that she couldn’t contain this problem before cheer tryouts. “AaaaaaHHhhhhhh!!!! I DON’T WANT TO BE A FAT FREAKING MEATBALL!!!!!!!!!!!” Addison cried, as she sat down at her desk and couldn’t help but shed some tears of frustration. What had even happened today? Could it be that this was all just a cruel dream? Addison hoped so, as she stared at her prized pageant photo that she kept above her desk. When she had been sixteen years old, she won a beauty contest in her hometown and gotten to wear a sash and a really pretty tiara and everything. Now she grabbed some emergency candy that she kept in the bottom drawer of her desk. It just so happened she grabbed a tootsie roll. It was her favorite chocolaty indulgence. As she savored its healing flavor and held her prized picture in her hand an evil part of her mind imagined what she might look like in that dress and tiara now. What happened today? She had gone from a tiara deserving princess to a tootsie roll eating big-bellied fat*ss. The only thing that was keeping her from complete despair was the chocolaty taste gracing her lips. As her belly rumbled in approval, Addison decided that there was no better time to indulge in her emergency stash of candy than on the worst day of her life. She only hoped that when she woke up the next morning everything would be back to normal.
  17. So... dunno how far my rep preceded from that other site, if at all. Somehow I doubt it did. Anyway, I used to post on the-art-site-that-shall-remain-nameless (under the same user name) between February of 2018 and May of 2020. At which point a particularly vindictive site administrator decided I was a "waste of talent" and a "spammer" and permanently banned me. And blocked my email addresses so I couldn't appeal the ban. Anyway, I'm here now. (I will ignore the chorus of "...So who are you, again?") I'll be re-posting some of my stories here, starting with this one. With a bit of editing. - - - - - - - - - - The Foodbaby Fiasco Chapter One: Christmas Celebration - - - - - - - - - - “It’s the most stress-ful time of the yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaar…” Naomi mumbled as the blizzard raged outside. The dining room’s dark wainscoting and gold-patterned walls creaked from the wind. Tinsel and colored bulbs glimmered in the candlelight. The house hadn’t had electricity for over two hours, and there wasn’t any sign of it being restored anytime soon. None of that stopped Great-Aunt Helen from cooking. Whisking and chopping noises echoed from the kitchen, joined by the scents of cinnamon and nutmeg and sugar. The old lady wouldn’t let bad weather (and the fact that most of the invitees couldn’t make it) stop her Christmas party. Digitized clicks pulled Naomi’s attention from the snowfall, and she turned and saw her sister snapping pictures of the room. She facepalmed and sighed. “You are not photographing an empty table.” “Oh hello stranger of the past, I’m from the 21st century! We share everything with our Facebook and Twitter overlords!” Andrea replied with a chuckle. “Besides, it’s a statement about time. Silverware and plates from the eighteen-hundreds, house from the fifties, decorations from the seventies, lit by candles and photographed on a smartphone. So whaddya think?” “That people like you are why no-one takes postmodernists seriously.” “Ouch.” Andrea shrugged. “Okay, so, also? I’m really, really bored.” “Play some games on that damn thing,” Naomi replied and gestured to her sister’s pink-flower-cased phone. “Like this POS has storage for any more than songs and a few pics.” Naomi shrugged. “You could use it as a hockey puck.” “True, but then I’d be out fifty bucks.” Andrea giggled, and clicked a few more pictures one-handed. “Hey, we haven’t done this one for a while!” “Done wha-” Naomi began, cut short as Andrea tugged her into a halfhearted hug and clicked a selfie of them before Naomi could protest. The younger woman let go and immediately typed something on the phone. “Duckface… Pic… with… Evil… Twin… Miss… Grumpypants… at… Auntie’s,” Andrea muttered as she keyed in a description, and smirked. “How am I the evil one?” Naomi asked. “Because I said so.” “Dang.” Naomi and Andrea weren’t really twins, though an observer might’ve easily mistaken them for being so. They were both pale-skinned redheads of average height, though Naomi’s locks were short and coppery while Andrea’s hair was a deeper auburn and long. They had similar physiques, being pear-shaped and bottom-heavy, although by no means anywhere near overweight. On the other hand, Naomi was older by two years. She was also more health-conscious, and sported a trimmer, toned build in contrast to her wider and softer sister. Andrea wasn’t chubby, but she often had a slight potbelly during the holidays. They even dressed differently: Naomi preferred layers, starting with a thin turtleneck, then a striped shirt over it, and a long-sleeved buttoned top, her legs clad in blue jeans. Andrea wore a deliberately absurd ugly Christmas sweater and gym pants. “Hey, look on the bright side. Being the evil one means you’ll get a bigger fanbase. And cooler outfits. And better theme music.” “…The heck are you talking about?” “You know, if we had a web show or something-” “You are insane.” Andrea snorted. “Well, that’s what makes me awe~some.” Naomi rolled her eyes. “Careful, sis. At this rate you’ll turn into the anthropomorphic personification of an imageboard.” “But I don’t even own pruning shears or a chainmail bikini!” “…I’m not going to ask what train of thought lead to that remark.” Andrea snickered. “Aw, but learning is half the fun!” The whisking in the kitchen kicked up, and Naomi saw her Great-Aunt working on yet another an entirely new bowl of food, and leaned in to whisper with her sister. “How on Earth can she still be cooking?” “Wow, and you thought I was out-of-touch? See, there’s these things called wood-fired stoves, and Big Auntie’s an old-school badass like that.” Naomi let out an exaggerated, exasperated sigh. “Ah, shaddup. You know what I mean. There’s not that many of us here, the fridge doesn’t work right now, and we’re not going to be able to eat all that.” “Doggyyyyyyy baaaaaaa~aaaaaag,” Andrea replied, singsong. “No. I have no room in my dorm’s fridge as it is.” “Oh well,” Andrea said as she stretched. “Betcha we do eat most of it anyway. Big Auntie’s damn good at cooking.” Naomi couldn’t deny that. “Yeah, but my clothes would be too tight for weeks on end.” “Whine, whine, body-shame, boo-effing-hoo.” Andrea laughed. “I don’t care, skinny missy. Knowing you, you’ll burn it off in a day tops. You know what, do hold back. All that much more for me! I’ll eat and eat and eat until I get so bloated that my shirt doesn’t cover my belly button!” “There is something deeply wrong with you.” Andrea winked. “You know it!” “How much coffee did you drink this morning?” “Eh, none. I think this is a sugar high.” Naomi pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Now I’m afraid of what you’ll be like after dessert.” “Oh don’t worry, I’ll be too ballooned-up to move. Probably.” “True.” “Hey!” “What?” Naomi asked, noting that her sibling seemed more bemused than her suddenly-irked tone suggested. “You weren’t supposed to agree, meanie-butt!” “Too bad. And wow, just wow, ‘meanie-butt’? I haven’t heard that one since middle school. Is all that candy triggering a mental regression?” Andrea was about to retort when the saloon-style door to the kitchen swung open. Great-Aunt Helen shuffled into the dining room with an utterly gigantic foil-covered serving bowl of mashed potatoes in her oven-mitt-clad hands. Helen didn’t bear that much familial resemblance to her grand-nieces, mostly due to age. Her silver hair was well past shoulder length, yet wispy enough to expose much of her scalp. Liver spots dotted her wrinkled skin, and she hunched when she walked. She looked older than she actually was, and regardless of her emotional state tended to wear a stern expression and a perpetually crazy-eyed glare. Naomi immediately offered to take the bowl the rest of the way, but Helen shook her head. “Thanks dearie, but I got it. You can get the yams outta the oven if you like,” she said. Andrea promptly jogged to the kitchen before Naomi even moved, and barely avoided slamming right into their mother. That would’ve been bad, seeing as Mom had the Christmas Turkey in hand, and their father followed with the roast ham platter in his arms. Mom set the plate down. “What’s wrong with Andi?” “Oh, I think she’s just so excited…” Great-Aunt Helen replied. “Or she’s really f… freaking hungry,” Naomi chimed in. Helen eyed her. “You were gonna say a naughty word, weren’t you?” “No,” Naomi replied. “Are you lying?” “Yes.” “Thought so. Don’t wanna have to add soap to your spices, do you?” “Well, that would ruin the flavor…” Naomi said as she took a seat next to her parents, careful to move one of the candles aside. Helen nodded. “Well then, get the dirty words outta your mouth.” “And now I have a mental image of me pulling a scarf with four-letter words written all over it out of my mouth.” Naomi paused as her mother snorted. “And that would be inappropriate.” At that, Andrea returned with the other guests in tow: cousin ‘Little’ James, his wife Sarah, and their son James Junior (JJ for short), all of whom quickly took their seats. And that was it: the seven of them were the only ones – out of a list of dozens of invitees – that’d braved the storm. Which, admittedly, wasn’t so bad. At least this time Naomi figured she’d be able to hear what people were actually saying, rather than trying to work it out from the ambient buzz of twenty people talking at once. It felt a bit odd having this few of them at the candlelit table, though. On every previous holiday, guests occupied every seat, and they’d have an additional table set up to handle the latecomers. Despite the storm, this time felt quiet. Awkwardly so. Apparently Andrea thought so as well, and raised her phone. “So how about a bit of classic Russian Christmas music?” Naomi glowered. “Stop.” “What?” “You’re gonna play the Trololo Man song, aren’t you?” Andrea whistled innocently. “…Noooooooo…?” “Yes you were. Don’t.” Naturally, Big Auntie cut in. “What’s… Tro-low-low?” she asked. Naomi balked. “Oh please don’t-” “Glad you asked!” Andrea interrupted, and pressed play. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah Yah-yah-yah, yah-yah yah, yah, nah-nah Oh ho-ho-ho-ho-ho, la-la-la… - - - - - - - - - - As usual, Helen served up more food than could have ever been needed. Before Naomi knew what’d happened, her plate held a massive pile of the overly-rich sustenance. A mound of mashed potatoes, a heaping helping of spiced carrots, sweet yams that looked more like a dessert than a side dish, several generous slices of the Christmas turkey, and a fist-sized pile of mixed beans lay before her – and that was less than half of the types of food her great-aunt had cooked up. “Yep. I think they’ll have to roll me out of the house,” Andrea said, and Naomi halfheartedly nodded in agreement. “I mean, like, this is a literal mountain of food.” “No,” Naomi replied. “Whaddya mean ‘no’? It’s-” “A figurative mountain. Not literal. If that were a literal mountain of food it’d take up much more space and-” Andrea cut her off. “Bo~ring. You’re boring me.” JJ let out a shrill giggle, as if it were the funniest thing in the world, and pounded his fist on the table. “Boo-Rang! Boo-Rang!” he mimicked. Then he tried to spear his carrots with a spoon, and inadvertently catapulted one over the table and onto the windowsill. He then gleefully squealed and did it again, on purpose this time. Neither Little James nor Sarah did anything to stop him, and Naomi sent her parents a sidelong are-you-kidding-me look. Mother rolled her eyes in a way that Andrea had inherited. Father and Naomi sighed in tandem, and both sent a do-your-damn-job glare at the child’s parents. Sarah caught on when a fourth carrot flew by – and quietly told JJ to behave if he wanted extra sweets after dinner. As he’d get dessert either way and was just smart enough to know that, it did little to dissuade him. Naomi mouthed a silent you-must-be-kidding to Andrea. Her sister rolled her eyes, and wolfed down a forkful that looked too large to fit in her mouth. Big Auntie completely ignored the child’s antics and glanced at them instead. “Don’t tell me that your diet’s just smelling the food, Naomi. You haven’t taken a bite yet.” “Well, I was-” She’d have said ‘was about to’ but by raw chance one of JJ’s flying carrots landed in her mouth. Uproarious laughter followed as everyone saw that yes, that just happened. It was one of those little things that happened at their family dinners, and after a few remarks – none of them actually funny – Naomi finally dug in. Helen did one hell of a job this time. Soft, buttery mashed potatoes with exactly the right balance of salt and pepper flooded Naomi’s taste buds. She gulped down several huge mouthfuls in short order, and then one so big that she had to puff up her cheeks. “Are you trying to do a chipmunk impression, Naomi?” her father asked. “Be careful not to choke.” Andrea snickered between bites. She’d done exactly the same thing, but it was so normal for her that nobody said anything. Naomi shook her head, enjoying the fluffy flavor and tuning out droll conversations about her parents’ recent Santa Cruz trip. She ate so quickly that it took her quite by surprise when her fork clinked against the plate. “Huh,” she mumbled, and piled up another heap of potatoes. Then she tried the carrots. They’d been soaked in more butter and dusted with a plentiful amount of brown sugar and cinnamon, then cooked to the point of practically melting in her mouth. The flavor danced on her tongue, and she felt like she’d already reached the meal’s dessert. She speared three or four of them onto her silverware at a time. “–have to ask Naomi. Whaddya think?” her mother asked, glancing her way. “Do you think it works that way?” “Huh?” She glanced from her plate, her mouth filled with a spoonful of the mixed beans, enjoying the cold side’s mix of oils and vinegar tastes. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” Mother twirled a lock of mildly-grayed auburn hair. “James said-” Little James cut her off. “Wind farms cause climate change.” Naomi blinked. “…What.” “See, because of all the wind farms, the air’s being turned around and pulled down and so the planet heats up. It makes more sense than this greenhouse effect bullsh-” (Little James cut himself off at Big Auntie’s glare) “…bull-poop. I mean, there’s nothing solid to hold the heat in!” You’re a moron, Naomi thought. She didn’t dare say it out aloud, but Little James’s obstinate refusal to understand high-school thermodynamics or how a greenhouse functioned got on her nerves. “Ah… I’ll have to check my notes, but I think it only causes weird ground-level currents.” “Which cause global warming,” he said, as if she’d proven his point. That how he worked; he pretended getting the last word was a victory. She knew damn well that he was trying to bait her into a no-win scenario; if she gave him the intellectual beatdown he so desperately needed, everyone would treat her like the villain for making him look bad in front of his wife and kid. If she handled him with the kid gloves, she’d be labeled a condescending elitist. If she started and backed down for fear of escalation, he’d claim victory and act like he was the more intelligent one. Of course, if she handled it perfectly and beat him fair and square, he’d say her data was all fake and claim their argument was moot. So she disengaged. “I’ll check my notes later.” To cut herself short, she gulped down a glass of soda, taking long enough that Little James got bored and started yammering about something else. She then finally chomped away at her turkey. Hints of spices and salts brought out the flavor. It was far too good to be left to cool and used later on as sandwich meat, as the family too often did with leftovers. She gave Big Auntie a quick compliment, and then went back to eating. It’d be tough for Little James to stir up an argument if she kept her mouth shut. Or full. And so Naomi filled up her plate again. This time was for the other half of the dishes, starting with the ham. She added big scoops of the odd diced tomato, herbs, onion, and grilled pineapple medley that Helen was so proud of as well. She took heaps of the marshmallow-topped yams, and massive slices of cornbread too. At this rate I’ll get fat, she mused. The meal alone was enough to distract her from the averted argument, and she mused on how the ham contrasted the turkey. While the latter was savory, salted, slightly dry and light on the tongue, the former tasted sweet, rich, and heavy. Honey glaze with a hint of apple gave it an amazing flavor, and she took her time with each bite. If the first part of the meal had been balanced, this half was sheer sugar. Nonetheless she gulped it down in large mouthfuls, and redoubled her efforts when Little James tried to steer the topic back toward his anti-science conspiracy theories. Another piece of ham here, a heap of tangy fruit-and-veggies mix there, and more kept her busy. She dug into the yams, and noticed a distinct hint of nutmeg among the soft texture. The side dish could have easily served as the filling for a gourmet pie. Even the otherwise fairly normal-looking cornbread tasted cake-like; moist, heavy, and sweet. It didn’t crumble like she’d expected, and she felt like she should’ve eaten it with her fork rather than her fingers. When she finished it off, she picked away at the crumbs. More remained. She grabbed a ladle and poured herself a bowl of the stew, and tried the less-appetizing foods as well; the coleslaw, the relatively bland-looking Italian salad, and the bread-and-walnut dressing. Despite Big Auntie’s usual standards, only the first was any good; a hearty stew in broth, full of sliced carrots, red potatoes, rice, celery, and more. Naomi slurped it down, saw Little James turn his head her way, and immediately heaped up seconds of the ham, potatoes, turkey, and bread. Andrea did likewise, and chuckled. “My food baby’s coming along. I think my belly button’s gonna pop soon.” Father laughed. “Just remember we’re not staying the night – you’ll need to fit through the door.” Naomi glanced to the window as the blizzard kicked up again. She didn’t know what her parents thought, but no way would she drive her car in that mess. Especially in the dark. - - - - - - - - - - Silverware clinked against plates, and the guests waited for serving platters to make their rounds once more. Despite everything they’d eaten, more remained. Naomi ‘accidentally’ took too big of a scoop of potatoes. “Whoops. Just made tater mountain,” she said. Andrea smirked. “A figurative mountain, or an actual one?” “Ah, shut up Andi.” Helen butted in. “Naomi! Don’t be rude! Say you’re sorry!” Naomi shrugged. “Uh… no?” Her great-aunt sighed. “Kids these days… in my day, people knew how to respect the rules.” Naomi grinned. “Auntie, I do recall your stories about how you used to sneak out and smoke joints with some Fonzie-looking biker guy…” “That was different,” the old lady said. “How?” “For starters, I got away with it.” JJ looked baffled. “Wassa join-tes?” he asked, shrill as always. Sarah cut them off. “It’s a nasty, filthy habit that Big Auntie used to have, and you shouldn’t ask.” She then gave Naomi a stern glare. Naomi capitulated, and turned her attention to her food. Thankfully, Little James grew bored of trying to provoke her, and she was left to eat in peace. Bite after bite went away, and it struck her that she didn’t know if it was her third or fourth plateful. She’d stopped paying attention, and instead just enjoyed the tastes and textures. Then she had one bite too many, and her jeans burst open. She paused, fork halfway to her mouth as she realized what happened. She tried to fix it one-handed, without success. She took her next forkful anyway, and re-buttoned her pants – which immediately popped open. She fixed them again and again, and the button refused to stay closed. Flustered, she sucked in her stomach and tightened them one last time. “Everything okay, Naomi?” her father asked. “Yeah,” she lied. “Dropped something on my lap, that’s all.” He accepted that explanation without question, and went back to his meal. Naomi played it cool, relaxed… and felt her pants pop again. Give me a break, these were loose when I sat down! Did I eat that much? She didn’t want to look down. She stared at her still-mostly-full plate (which she decided must’ve been her fifth) and tuned out that chatter around her. The meal taunted her, as if saying ‘eat me’ and she imagined herself as Alice in Wonderland – but instead of the food and drink changing her size, it’d make her bloat up. She tried not to count calories. On the other hand, Christmas was a once-a-year thing. Maybe a bit of extra food wasn’t so bad. She resumed eating, and soon enough the plate was empty once more. Out of curiosity, she finally glanced down, but in the dim candlelight she couldn’t see much. As stuffed as she was, she didn’t yet feel full; she felt like she could eat an elephant. She piled up another small plate, leaned back, and held in a burp. Enough, she thought. After this you’ve had enough. Enough is en- An argument cut into her thoughts. “You need to eat your carrots, sweetie. Get the runway ready for the airplane-” Sarah said to her child. “NO!!! DON WANNA!!! CAR-TOTS IS YUCKY!!!” JJ screamed. He slammed his fists on the table. “YUCKY!!! YUCKY!!! YUUUUUCKYYYY!!! CAR-TOTS!!! IS!!! YUUUUUUCKYYYY!!” He then paused and took a deep breath. “YUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!” Naomi’s ears rang. She wanted to tell JJ to go to the guest room, but that was allegedly his parents’ call. Even if they sent him away, he’d scream and cry all night. Or play video games. So she waited. “YUCKY!!! YUUUUUUCKYYYYY!!!” (Perhaps JJ loved screaming.) “I WANNA PIE!!! GIMME PIE!!! GIMME!!! GIMME NOW!!!” She looked over to Andrea, who’d busied herself with the meal. Their parents exchanged glances, and mother looked about ready to say something. Father pushed his glasses up to his receding hairline and pinched the bridge of his nose, and JJ’s shrieks drowned out his exasperated sigh. Her great-aunt hid a quiver, on the verge of tears from the child’s insults. “Hey fine, you don’t want ‘em I’ll take ‘em,” Naomi said, and swiped the carrots from JJ’s plate. The boy sniffled. “Take yuckies.” He tossed one toward her, and it splattered on the table instead. It was almost funny. “Thanks.” As soon as JJ looked away, Naomi winked at Sarah. “So, I know that kids who don’t eat their veggies don’t get their dessert. Does this mean I get his slice of pie?” Sarah caught on. “Oh, of course. It’s very nice of you to let Naomi have your dessert, JJ.” The child’s face contorted as he worked out what just happened, then twisted into the verge of an even worse tantrum. “Gimme back yuckies!” Naomi speared a carrot on her fork and ate it. “Whoops, too late.” JJ howled. “NO!!! DON TAKE IT!!! PIE MINE!!! MINE!!!” Sarah patted him on the back and put a small serving of carrots on his plate, and glared daggers at Naomi for provoking him. Naomi sent a you-must-be-kidding-me glance to Andrea, who tried not to snort. Tried. As Sarah and Little James reassured their toddler that he could still have his pie if he ate the veggies, Naomi heaped scoops of potatoes and turkey and cornbread onto her dish. She discreetly wolfed it down, and paid little mind to the small talk. She caught her parents whispering about how if she or Andi ever acted like that they’d have spent the rest of the night in their rooms – but somehow she doubted that. Naomi’s silverware clinked against empty porcelain again, and she put together yet another serving. She didn’t think much of it as she ate – until her shirt’s buttons strained. When she looked down, she saw her belly had ballooned out as far as her chest. Oh damn, she mused, and undid the fasteners before they burst. She felt grateful that she’d worn layers. Helen noticed. “Is it too warm in here, Naomi?” “Kinda. Must be the heat from the oven,” she lied, relieved that her bloated stomach went unnoticed in the candlelight. Despite her engorged state, the meal was so good that she snacked on small servings of side dishes. Her ‘small’ snacking quickly escalted to another full plate. - - - - - - - - - - Auntie helen lit another set of candles as the first burned out. Both of Naomi’s parents finally set their plates aside, her dad complaining that he felt fit to burst. Little James and JJ did likewise, which didn’t stop the child asking for pie every thirty seconds. Naomi added more to her remaining food from spite, and as did Andrea. Sarah finished off a tidbit more and finally pushed her plate away. As Little James and father chatted about an old police cruiser they planned to restore, Naomi gulped down the buttery mashed potatoes. Her clothes felt funny, and she supposed that her jeans zipper no longer closed. She couldn’t see it in the poor light, but kept eating regardless. Mother elbowed her in the side, and Naomi supposed JJ was about ready to pitch another fit from not getting his dessert. “He can wait,” she whispered. Mother nudged her again. “…What?” “If you’re going to get up, fix your shirt,” her mom muttered. “Hmm?” Naomi wasn’t sure how she’d made the cloth lift, but it was a simple fix. She reached down, felt a sliver of bared skin, and tugged her shirt over it. As she let go, it rode up again. Uh-oh. Naomi pulled it down again, and it rose as she released it. She tried again, but the third time was decidedly not the charm. She pulled it down so much that it left a bit of her back exposed, but a slight shift in position made her belly peek out again. She tried to tuck in the hem, but her unfastened jeans made it problematic. I’m that freaking bloated?! I thought that only happened in cartoons! She did her best to keep a straight face, then tasted a distinct flavor of spiced beans. On instinct she’d taken up another spoonful – and a mostly-full plate sat before her. She groaned. That wasn’t good for leftovers; Helen expected clean plates, and didn’t particularly like wasted food. One more helping had to go; she barely managed it, and her shirt rode up further. Naomi put down her silverware, sat back, patted her distended belly, and sighed. “Thanks, Big Auntie. That was great, I’m stuffed.” She eyed the considerable amount of food remaining. “Guess we’ll have left-” She burped. Loudly. Her hands flew to her mouth and she blushed as all the chatter stopped. For a moment every pair or eyes fell on her. Andrea broke the awkwardness as she reared back laughing, and everyone else followed suite. Naomi looked at her empty plate. “Leftovers,” she finished, a sheepish grin on her face. “Yes, I guess we will.” Helen stood up, her omnipresent crazy-eyes stare falling to Naomi. “So, who’s up for pie?” “ME!!! ME-ME-ME-ME-ME!!!” JJ shouted. “I think JJ speaks for everyone here,” Mother said. At this rate I’ll explode, Naomi thought – but said, “Yeah, sure.” Within moments, two warm pumpkin pies sat on the table. The scent demolished Naomi’s reservations over eating more. For a moment she felt like she’d be able to fit an entire pie into her stomach. Helen cut the first into generous sixths rather than her normal eighths; Father politely declined a piece, and Little James and Sarah split theirs. Naomi stared at the dessert before her. It smelled good; she wanted to gulp it down at once. Orange-brown, perfectly spiced, and topped with a fist-fized spiral of whipped cream, it looked like the sort of food that could instantly make a thin person quite fat. She waited until everyone had a piece and took her first mouthful. Sweet heaven flowed over her taste buds. Every hint of spice and sugar brought out the flavor and texture to its fullest, complemented by the crispy graham-cracker crust and the soft toppings. She savored the bites and drowned out the chatter around her, losing herself in the meal. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven mouthfuls… and then it was gone. Naomi sighed. At least that was over- Thunk. An entire quarter of the second pie landed on her plate. She looked up and saw Auntie Helen beam at her. “Um… thanks…? But that’s a bit much, so…” “Hey, you looked like you enjoyed it, and we don’t know when we’re getting the power back. Go ahead and eat up,” Helen said, and offered a big chunk to Andrea as well, who gladly accepted it. Well… New Year’s resolution, burn this all off by next Friday, Naomi told herself. She dug in. By the time she’d counted to thirty, she’d eaten the whole thing. She polished off the crumbs, licked her silverware, and sat back. Full. She was finally full. She suspected that if she ate another crumb, her family would get showered by bits of her dinner – because she’d puked or popped, whichever came first. She sat back and let out another belch, ignored the laughter, and reached down to fix her shirt. She couldn’t get it over her belly button.
  18. Does anyone else get excited doing themed stuffings at home sometimes? It's one thing to go to a restaurant of a certain cuisine, but I mean picking up items from several places and making your own homage to a certain cuisine or theme? Mine at the moment is lots of sushi and other Japanese foods with Japanese beers, followed by a box of mixed snacks and candies from Japan...thinking I might film it one day in some Sailor Moon cosplay underwear I have coming in the mail 😜 What fun things have you done or would love to see?
  19. While I'm waiting to be verified, 💜here's some cute shots from a really cute stuffing video I'm dying to post already!!!🍥 ehehe my tummy is so little! It's sooo hard to stuff! 🧁 I'll just have to start stuffing myself everyday to get nice and plump and be able to eat even more yummiez🍧 ehehe 🌈I've gained 60lbs so far, how do you think I'm doing? 🐰Bunny🐰
  20. Hii 🌈 Im Bunny, I'm 21 and a brand new feedee baby!🥞 I'm still waiting to verified as a model on here but I don't want to wait for you to see me!🍌 🥵 I started at only 110lbs and now I'm 170lbs! Come Feed me and help me grow eheheh
  21. BBW, STUFFING, Slice of Life. Claire, a successful young lawyer, has nearly doubled her bodyweight since she tied the knot. Can she come to terms with her current overfed figure and balance her duties as wife and breadwinner? The Fat Wife by Polarisdreamer & Berserker1133 Part 1- “Claire-bear? Claire-bear wake up. You gotta get ready for work.” Paul softly whispered into the ear of his snoozing wife. “Mhhhhh… Five more minutesss…” Claire groaned, as she sleepily rolled her doughy body onto its side, putting her back to her husband. Smiling at Claire’s juvenile tactic, Paul wiggled into a spooning position against his chunky wife. First he gave her generously sized butt a frisky little squeeze, then he wrapped his arm around his wife’s inflated midsection and softly massaged her protruding belly while he gently kissed her neck three times, “*Mwah!* *Mwah!* *Mwah!*” “Pauuul… Hmhm! Quit it…” Claire groggily protested with a hint of enjoyment. The way her husband kissed her neck in the morning always gave her goosebumps. However, she didn’t like that she had such a massive belly for him to grab on to. Feeling too tired to reciprocate her husband’s warm feelings right now, Claire accused, “It’s your fault I was up so late last night. Just give me five more minutes.” “Alright, I’ll set your phone alarm for another five minutes, but I’m putting it on the bathroom counter, so you’ll have to get out of bed to shut it off.” Paul explained, while his wife let out a big grunt in response. “Heyyy be nice to meee, I bring home the bacon, remember?” Claire innocently pouted, as she groggily pulled a pillow over her adorable face. Smiling at his lovely wife, Paul wrestled the pillow away from her and started getting out of bed, while he said, “You bring home the bacon, I cook it. I know how our system works. I’ll go start breakfast for you beautiful.” “Ugg…” Claire droned at her husband’s last word to her before leaving the room. Beautiful. Claire felt she was many things, a loyal friend, a hardworking young lawyer, an excellent wife, but today ‘beautiful’ wasn’t exactly one of them. Rolling around in bed trying to get comfortable, Claire felt heavy. Lying on her back, the size of her thick butt made her back arch upward at an awkward angle. Lying on her stomach, Claire’s big, bloated belly uncomfortably pressed against the soft mattress because of the overindulgent night she’d just had. She had to settle for slumbering on her side, although her boobs had swollen in size so much that they strained the buttons of her pajama shirt from the position. She probably needed new pajamas soon anyway, the ones she was currently wearing were tight against her hips, butt and thighs, as well as her arms, chest and belly. Somehow every part of her body had become her problem area. Hearing the annoying beep of her alarm, Claire groggily tried to wake up and leave her warm bed. She didn’t spring upward like she used to during her fitter days in college, sitting up was too much effort now, instead Claire rolled to the edge, slid her chunky legs onto the floor, and then used her arms to heave herself upward to her feet. It seemed like getting out of bed got harder every day. Clumsily lumbering into the bathroom and shutting off her alarm, Claire reached into the shower and got the hot water going. It normally took a moment or two for the water to really get as warm as Claire liked it. Trying to avoid looking at herself in the mirror, Claire threw her hair into a big bun and then donned a shower cap. She’d woken up late and she knew she didn’t have time to dry her long brown hair, so she wasn’t going to get it wet. Unbuttoning her pajamas and freeing herself of their tight embrace, Claire eagerly entered her shower and let the warm water do its job waking her up. As the refreshingly warm water massaged her chunky body, Claire lathered up some soap onto her sponge. She started washing herself as she usually did, top to bottom. As embarrassing it was to admit, Claire knew she tended to sweat a lot more than she used too, especially her armpits and the area between her cleavage, so she made sure those areas were clean before tending to other areas. Claire hated how soft her arms had gotten, especially her upper arms. They jiggled while Claire struggled to reach around and wash her back. It was an embarrassing reminder that she wasn’t anywhere near as flexible as she’d once been. Washing her back now was such a struggle that Claire normally just made Paul do it when they showered together. Giving up, Claire lathered up her arms and then turned her attention to her belly. She’d gotten so fat that she had multiple rolls of fat that she had to make sure she washed. She also had to make sure that she washed her underbelly. The process always made Claire envious of when she’d once had a flat tummy. Showering had once been so much simpler. Now she had to bend over to reach every inch of her inflated butt. Her thick thighs rubbed together no matter what she did, and to make matters worse she was afraid to wash her feet because one time a few months ago she’d lost her balance during the struggle to wash them and fallen right on her butt in the shower. Rinsing herself off and getting out of the shower, Claire wrapped herself in a towel, but was a little shocked to realize how small it felt on her. At first, she thought she’d grabbed a hair towel for her body, but after a quick glance, the more likely explanation slapped her in the face. The towel wasn’t small, she was too big. It was only a few months ago, three months to be exact, that she’d been celebrating a 30-pound weight loss. She’d hired a personal trainer at her gym, she’d stuck to a new diet, and she’d finally got onto a normal sleep schedule. However, then she was assigned to a huge case for her firm. She stopped attending the gym regularly, her diet went out the window and she’d had many sleepless nights due the stress from the high-profile nature of the case. Claire didn’t want to admit it, but she’d clearly gained some or all of the weight back. Needing to know the damage, Claire dug out the bathroom scale from under the sink. Throwing off her towel, Claire bit the bullet and stepped on. After a moment, a horrifying number met her eyes. *275* Claire wanted to cry. She was five pounds shy of her highest weight and the holiday season was just around the corner. She’d be the size of a house by new years for sure… “If Paul wasn’t such a good cook…” Claire fumed, as her frustration latched onto her husband’s nurturing nature. She knew Paul enjoyed the fact that she was so overweight for some strange reason. She’d married a chubby-chaser and this was the consequence. He never forced any food down her throat, but he did constantly keep the house filled with all of her favorite foods. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t resist; it was his! Spurred by her slight anger, Claire hurried to get ready. Today was going to be a big day, this was the last chance her firm was going to get to settle their big case before it went to trial. She had a business outfit she wanted to wear but knew it wouldn’t fit her in her current tubby condition, so instead Claire settled for a professional blouse, stockings, and high-waisted skirt combo. Getting the stockings on were a pain, her big belly made reaching her feet an arduous task. To make matters worse, the waist of the skirt was more than a little tight, but Claire was satisfied. She put on a black belt, did her hair and makeup, and finally put on her ‘power’ heels. She always felt confident wearing this particular pair of black high heels, but the heavier she got the more they killed her feet. Walking down the steps of her beautiful suburban house, Claire tried to avoid looking at all the pictures of her and Paul hanging on the wall of when she’d still been skinny. When she’d first met Paul, she’d been a 136-pound 20-year-old, and now she’d fattened up into a 275-pound 26-year-old. She was literally over twice the size she’d used to be. As Claire’s mind scolded herself for letting herself go so badly, her nose smelled the alluring aroma of her favorite breakfast. Her stomach growled something fierce at the realization, but Claire was in no mood to devour a large breakfast and add to her weight-woes. Entering the kitchen, Claire noted that her nose had been correct. Paul had made her pancakes drenched in chocolate syrup, a bowl with sliced strawberries and bananas, and a tall glass of orange juice. “Eat up while it’s warm.” Paul urged Claire. However, she appeared preoccupied with her own thoughts. “No, I’m running late. I’ll just stop for coffee on my way to work.” Claire crankily explained, while she fought to resist the urgings of her stomach. “Okay.” Paul mumbled a little disappointed. “Do you want me to pack you a lunch?” “No.” Claire grunted a little snappy. She didn’t want to eat one of Paul’s decadent lunches today. As much as she loved chowing down on meatball subs and pasta, she needed to start cooling it with the carbs and calories. “I’m getting a salad today with Janet and Kimmie.” “Alright. Well… Good luck on that big settlement negotiation today. You’ll do great.” Paul smiled, as he approached his wife and planted a big kiss on her lips. Unable to enjoy the kiss, Claire broke it off and muttered, “Don’t you listen? I already told you. I’m basically just going to be Mr. Marshall’s moral support. I prepared the case, but he’s going to be arguing for our side.” “Oh right. That stinks.” Paul frowned. He’d been so distracted by his beautiful wife’s figure that his memory had slipped for an instant. “It’s just the way it is.” Claire sighed, while she grabbed her keys and started heading to the garage, “Mr. Marshall’s more experienced, but he’s a sweetheart, so I don’t mind.” Following Claire to her car, Paul changed the topic, “About tonight, we don’t have to do anything special. I know you’re busy. I could just make a nice dinner if you want.” “I’ll text you when I get done work. I don’t know how late I’ll be today.” Claire responded, as her stomach growled once again. “You sure you don’t want something to eat for the road?” Paul offered one last time, as Claire entered her car and struggled to buckle her seatbelt. Her butt was so fat that it covered the buckle. She had to awkwardly lift herself up so she could finally lock her seatbelt into place. “*Pant* Yeah, I’m sure. I ate more than enough last night at the party. See you later.” Claire grunted in a bit of a huff. She was starving, but she wasn’t going to let herself fall into her bad habits so easily. Today she was going to treat her body right. This was going to be the first day in a long time that she put herself back onto the path of weight loss. She’d achieved so much in her young career, if she put her mind to it, she could certainly reclaim her formerly fit body. As Claire started her drive to work, she thought about where she could stop for coffee that might have a healthy breakfast option.
  22. I’m new to curvage! Can’t wait to meet all of you and share my content. ❤️ I’m 23, LOVE sushi, music, gardening, and ** Born and raised in california I’m super greedy and sweet.. Get to know me!
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