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I really hope you check out my new video (once approved) She got the looks that kill!!! https://www.curvage.org/forum/index.php?/profile/68081-lola-rodriguez/

Well hello there! I have always wanted to see myself in cartoon/comicbook character form.. Unfortunately, i am not too good at drawing things.. Thats where this post comes into play! Im extremely interested to see how YOU would envision me as a cartoon/comicbook character (anime is also welcome and encouraged)! My absolute favorite will receive: Three free videos of your choice from the Curvage Clips! Anybody that participates in at least somewhat proffesional manner will receive: Any 7 minute or shorter video from Curvage Clips! All artwork must be posted to this thread and full quality version must be emailed to: [email protected] All artwork must be entered by the end of the June!!! Feel free to comment here, or contact me with any further questions, good luck! -TayTay

Hello Girls and Boys! As some of you noticed I create compilation on plus size theme. I'd like you to help me create another series of which the pilot #1 is in my profile links. I'd like you to send me some of you CLIPS if you wish to be included in such a compilation called BEST OF BBW! Please add "I agree to use my film in BEST OF BBW compilation series" and link included. Thank you! my channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCjcOvFVUX9JU8Je2o_r56PQ PS feel free to sub

Can anyone identify this gorgeous babe?

Let me be clear : Instagram's supervisory team tolerates since many years many sort of blatanly discriminatory-biased, of underage girls posting random selfies brushing against the limits of law, cyberbullying, sexually-explicist posts, AllLivesMatters's not-so-much-subtle-form-of-negrophobia bigotic reacts and even crualties against animals but banned meanwhile that British glamour model Lucy Collett a.k.a. Lucy Vixen just for have exhibited many times these last months pictures and videos of her body like she most did since the very starting of her modeling carrier, but with for only difference she's now markedly obese? So what's the point, Instagram : you tolerate even encourage from the beginning nigh nay fully-naked "Instagram chicks" cult under your thumb as much these same "chicks" didn't done by getting sizably fuller? Sounds like both Sizeism & Fatphobia are a norm among some social networks, people.

Bay Area looking for a hot date I'm very chill and would love to take you out no pressure on the kinks - just wanna have fun and kiss your belly button -ect

Does anyone out there have every single one of the archives of BIGGURL MEG from YouTube.

Does anyone know who this is?

#ABeautifulLie...

“Honey, do these pants make me look fat?” Beth gave her boyfriend a twirl as she showed off a pair of cute purple leggings. “No.” Ryan said with a smile, though he felt like he’d said it a million times. His girlfriend was the epitome of slenderness as always – tight and skinny in the middle, with limbs made sinewy from long hours swinging kettlebells in the gym. Beth pouted. “Really - you’re in perfect shape.” he insisted. They’d been together for three years, and rather than getting comfortable, if anything Beth had only gotten thinner. She’d never been remotely big, even when they’d met, but it seemed each weekend when they spent their nights together in Ryan’s apartment he’d have a little less of her to cuddle up with. He hated waking up at seven in the morning, rolling over in bed to find his girlfriend no longer there – that she’d gone off for a swim or a five-mile run, and would have gone back to her place after. He hated watching her pore miserably over salads when they went for meals out, then skipping dessert no matter what the occasion. Sure, she looked fantastic. But it seemed no amount of complimenting would ever make her feel that way. Ryan desperately wanted her to be happy. But how could she be, listening to the niggling voice in her head that told her joy and contentment always lay in the next size down? That was why he put his plan into action. Seeing Beth happy on the inside was the most important thing. So that when he told her he loved her, she would finally believe him. His planning was meticulous. He purchased a paper shredder, a set of little magnets and a bigger refrigerator, set up a standing order with a grocery and made contact with a friend of a friend from college, a pharmacist going by the name of Dr. Pihl (for ‘trademark purposes’, he’d said in a rush). His bank balance was going to suffer, but Ryan knew in time, it would be worth it. It all began with one slice of carrot cake. “Carrot cake?” “Yeah, thought you might like to try some. It’s delicious.” “But it’s cake.” “I know. But carrots are one of your five a day,” said Ryan cheerfully. “Though you’d have to eat that slice and the other half.” Beth put down her women’s health magazine and smoothed back the tresses of her long blonde hair. She reached forward from the sofa and sniffed the cream cheese icing. She gave it a tiny tentative lick. “The idea is, you put it in your mouth,” said Ryan slowly. “Then you bite it, chew and swallow.” “Shut up,” Beth groaned, as she got up to fetch a bowl and spoon. “And before you ask, no – I don’t need you to spoonfeed it to me.” “You’re not gonna make a mess? You don’t need me to clean you up later?” he cooed. Beth picked up a pillow and threw it at his head. He laughed as he darted behind the door and let it hit the wall. Beth smiled as plopped the cake slice in the bowl and took a little spoonful. The taste hit her like a train – it was sweet and delightful. She gobbled down the rest mechanically, and licked at the remnants of the icing left in the bowl. “I think I’ll go to the gym later.” she said, passing Ryan by while she returned the bowl to the kitchen. “Maybe run home. Could you run a bath for me?” “Sure sweetie.” She changed into a running vest and shorts upstairs and kissed her boyfriend goodbye. When she came back down the stairs she found the carrot cake on the table by the door. “No. I shouldn’t.” Beth turned her eyes away and shut the door behind her. But the cake was waiting when she came back, tired and sweaty. Sighing after she took a shower, she relented. She left her boyfriend’s apartment for work the next morning. Ryan was pleasantly surprised to discover that half the cake had left with her. Ultimately Ryan managed to tempt his girlfriend into enjoying carrot cake at the end of every dinner they shared together. The colour had come back to Beth’s cheeks, and they flushed every time he brought it to the table. Slowly, ounce by ounce, spoonful by spoonful, he’d been increasing the portions of her mains too. He made sure though, through careful re-arrangement on the plates, that her meal always looked smaller than his own. Day by day, she’d finished a little more each time. Beth came back to hers one day with a huge shopping haul. She passed it off as just some extra workout clothes and a couple pairs of jeans when Ryan, who’d stopped over the previous night, had asked what she’d got. In truth, her size fours had been pinching her a little too much around the waist during her workouts. The sixes and eights were only temporary, she told herself, as she quietly threw the receipts in the trash before her boyfriend could get a look in. Him not knowing quite how much she’d spent was a bonus, too. Later, before he left, Ryan secretly retrieved the receipts from the bottom of the trash can. The next day after work he visited every store that they listed, and with a little help from the shop assistants rebought all the clothes his girlfriend had purchased the day before – only in sizes ten, twelve and sixteen respectively. He hung them all on a pipe in a dark space in his attic – he knew his girlfriend hated the spiders that skulked up there, so there was no chance they’d be discovered. To be doubly safe, he put all the new receipts through his paper shredder. The rest was just a waiting game. “Huh. Still a hundred and ten.” Beth got off the scale and accepted Ryan’s offer of a piece of Swiss roll. Ryan allowed himself a coy smile. His handiwork was slowly paying off; he had fixed magnets to the base of the scale so that they’d give a skewed reading. It’d taken an hour’s worth of trial and error but eventually he’d managed to rig it in such a way that it showed a weight ten pounds less than the correct figure. From there it was merely a case of adding the right number of magnets – he could make it go all the way up to forty pounds out. In truth, there really wasn’t a great deal of difference in his girlfriend’s weight. It was Beth’s appearance that had altered a little more. Skipping a couple gym afternoons each week had caused her to lose some muscle mass, while extended post morning workout brunches at Ryan’s and carrot cake desserts had replaced much of that and more with fat. Her face was a little fuller as a result, and biceps that once stood out starkly now fought for room with a newly-acquired smoothness of fat. Another month saw love handles sprout from her sides. Ryan knew it was time to make another move. While she was at work, he snuck into her wardrobe and swiped her size six outfits. He replaced them with the eights, and hung the sixes in his attic, but not before he’d cut the labels out of each and carefully sown them back on. Beth continued for two months unawares, until they too started to get tight. Then Ryan made the switch again. A month after that, as they cuddled on the sofa for a film night, Ryan reached a hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder and was pleased to be met with a smooth curve. She afforded him many more places for his head to rest on – gone were the jabby bones of her chest and hips, swallowed by a layer of softly rising fat. In the half-light his eyes fell to her stomach, and he noticed the little new tyre that mushroomed over her shorts. Ryan kissed her forehead. “You’re gorgeous” he whispered in her ear. “I think you mean enormous,” Beth retorted. She raised her legs and flung herself off the couch. “Look at this pudge. I’m cutting out the cake. And I’m only eating carbs once a week from now on. After a spinning session.” “Sweetie, you don’t have to do that.” “Ryan – I’m getting fat. You won’t want to see me if I’m fat. I should have started this ages ago.” Ryan felt his spirits sink. It wasn’t working. Beth’s body was fighting back. Her urge to punish herself on the track or in the pool was still strong as ever. He needed something to take it away, and to that end, he contacted his friend of a friend. “You’ve got Hiberplex. They’re the most effective on the market,” said Pihl, examining the sachet of appetite stimulants. “But they’re also a hundred bucks for a pack of four plus dispensing fees…” “Errr…what are the most effective not on the market?” Ryan asked jokingly. He wiped his brow. It was a summer’s day and yet Pihl’s store was centrally heated. “Trophopin.” the pharmacist said, to Ryan’s surprise. “It got discontinued after beta testing. Its effects were a little more…lasting, shall we say? Dangerous, perhaps…no, definitely.” “What?” said Ryan, laughing. “You mean it nearly starved people?” “Oh no. It just eats your energy away, literally. You wouldn’t just feel hungrier before a meal – you’d feel hungry all day long.” “Fine by me.” Ryan shrugged. The pharmacist gave him a funny look. He eyed Ryan’s sturdy six-foot frame. “You sure don’t look like you’re starving.” said Pihl. “Oh no, they’re not for me…I was looking for something for my girlfriend…if that’s…I don’t know.” “Hey, I don’t mind. I didn’t build my business on asking questions. Or answering any for that matter. So, she doesn’t like her food?” “No. She loves food – she just hates her body. She’ll eat half a cookie and go spend an afternoon thrashing herself in the gym to work it off. I want to show her she doesn’t have to.” “I’m no love coach, but couldn’t you just tell her?” “She won’t hear it. But if she were to face her fears getting bigger, curvier, and then realise I still love her just as much, she might stop hating on herself.” “Huh. Sounds like it could work, I guess.” Dr. Pihl exclaimed. “You want Trophopin then? Speed up the process?” Ryan raised an eyebrow. “You mean you’ve got it?” “Sure. Just cause it’s not on the shelf doesn’t mean it isn’t here”. Pihl winked. He fumbled in the cupboards beneath his desk and eventually produced a little pink bottle. “But between you and me, it’s not here. Here you go.” Ryan took the tiny bottle. “It’s a liquid?” “Yeah. Two doses in her coffee and alakazam. But absolutely positively don’t even think about going any further than two – the side effects include chronic fatigue, amongst other things. Delacroiss Pharma pulled it way before they found them all – weight gain was definitely another. Not sure of the rest...” Ryan eagerly slipped thirty dollars out of his wallet and signed a waiver. He left the backstreet pharmacy, barely able to purse his lips back over his smile. It was going to be perfect. Beth wasn’t sure whether to go for a mocha or just a latte from her home coffee maker. She knew the added chocolate wouldn’t do her figure favours in the long run, but the extra sugar might perk her up, because for the last two weeks she’d felt more and more like a sloth. Or a maybe a snail; over weeks and months she felt herself carrying around a lot more weight than she was used to. The effects of her excessive eating were growing clearer; her strength was faltering – her firm muscles had fast disappeared beneath new, bouncy fat. It piled on most heavily around her stomach. Where she’d once had a set of washboard abs she now packed a soft paunch that hung over her underwear. It swung left and right on her mid-afternoon jogs, which were becoming less and less frequent as her tiredness grew and grew. She was content just to sit and read, or watch TV, while her boyfriend cooked and offered her meals and cups of frothy coffee. At hers, it was a different story. She needed to muster up strength just to do the most basic housekeeping – sorting the laundry, taking out the trash, vacuuming; it all left her exhausted. She mustered it in the kitchen, in the form of profiteroles, chocolate cake and whipped cream. Sometimes all three at once – for some reason her appetite had been going crazy. Three hours later, after a breakfast that rolled into a brunch, Beth plunged into the swimming pool, soon feeling herself rise back up to the surface. She kicked her legs into gear as she tried to finish her twenty lengths – a much depleted target she’d set for herself optimistically after her morning mocha. Two lengths down, she needed a break. Catching her breath, she tried to see how long she could hold it under the water. Her lungs gave out after just twenty seconds, and she rose to the surface gasping. Her best had been over a minute. “Not good.” she mumbled to herself. She drowsily breast-stroked for a quarter hour more, covering another six lengths. Her lungs burned and she grit her teeth as cramp began to course up her thigh. Beaten, she paddled weakly back to where she could stand up, then hobbled over to the poolside. Beth eased out her tense muscles, then lay back and let herself float lazily back down the pool. Her breasts and belly broke the surface, tight in her one-piece swimsuit. She liked the feeling of weightlessness in the water. Because on dry land, it was a very different kettle of fish. A little while later, after her hunger had returned, Beth gripped the metal bars of the pool steps and heaved. Her ass rose out of the water, rivulets dripping from her glistening, wobbling curves. She huffed as she climbed the steps, and grimaced as she felt fat slap against fat. Her hip brushed the bars as she struggled through, nearly filling the space between them. Between her thighs she felt the slick water drip away, and the unfamiliar noxious rubbing return. She widened her gait again, resulting in a slight waddle as she headed off to the changing rooms. Getting changed again had become a nuisance. There was so much more of herself to dry – droplets snuck into all of her rolls of flab, around all her bulges and curves. Her stretchy leggings clung to her damp thighs as she tried to pull them up. Her fat stomach jiggled and sloshed as she danced awkwardly, thrusting herself up and down, pushing wet hair out of her eyes, then thrusting again. Her weightier boobs were making her back sore. “What’s wrong with me?” she said to herself. It was like somebody else had forced their way into her body, stealing all her energy, telling her to covet chocolate and cake and cream. Carrying an extra person around would certainly explain her new weight. Beth knew something was up when the springs on her bed started moaning as she rolled about at night, and had been stunned at the payscale at the gym when she discovered she weighed two hundred and twenty-two pounds. That was fat. That was really fat. She half considered going to see a doctor, but she was too afraid of what he might say. What if there was nothing wrong with her? Her boyfriend still hadn’t though. Each day she’d slipped into her size eights and tens, which somehow miraculously still fit her, and would ask him how she looked. His reply was always the same. Beautiful. “Never ‘slim’ though,” she muttered. “Never ‘fit’.” The way she was going, ‘never slim and never fit’ were looking to be her future. She couldn’t resist the lure of Ryan’s cooking, or fight the urge to nap rather than go running. It felt pointless to try. She had no more skinny days left. Just fat days, one after the other – days filled with napping and snacking, leggings and hoodies to cover up her bulging form. Beth was starting to stretch her boyfriend’s hoodies out, to her immense embarrassment. “It won’t be like this forever,” she told herself. “I’ll diet and exercise. This time next year, I’ll be different.” she promised. “I will be me again.” But after she ordered three bags of Reeses’ Pieces from the vending machine on the way out, the thought soon died away. “Honey, did we leave any cake last night?” “No.” said Ryan from his laptop. “You ate it all, remember?” “Oh.” said Beth. “Is there any more? I asked you to get another yesterday.” “I did. It’s in the cupboard.” There was a pause. “I’m hungry. Could you bring it over? And…you know…” Another pause. “Yeah. Just give it a minute…I’ll be right over.” Ryan finished what he was doing on his files and closed his laptop. He went to the kitchen and pulled the chocolate cake out from the back of the top shelf. He found a plate, a knife and spoon, and walked into the living room. Beth lay on the couch watching a romance, a cosy sheet over her body. She smiled and nudged herself to the side to try and make room for him. “Nnnghh…ooooh, you’ve kept me waiting. Heh. Come sit with me?” “It’s ok,” said Ryan. He pulled up a wooden chair. “I think it’ll be easier from here.” “Oh. Alright.” said Beth. She sat up straight. Beneath the sheet her belly creased into rolls. While he turned to lower the television volume she pulled it up and let it billow over her again, shrouding her wide, wobbly waist. Ryan cut the cake up into small slices. Beth felt herself grow warmer as he closed in with a cold, silvery spoonful. She opened her lips. The cake was gooey and rich. She chewed slowly, but eagerly. She swallowed and took another succulent piece. She knew this wasn’t right. She could feel the steady stream of helpings of vanilla ice cream, chocolate mousse and more cake adding to the inches on her hips. The stretched, squishy new inches. She had another bite. Her office colleagues had said nothing, but she knew they were snickering. They were laughing at the changes life had brought them. At least they didn’t bitch about her anymore –they didn’t have to. Their jealousy was gone. They were content to settle their gossip on the daily morning show – Beth Sanders, breathless, lumbering up the stairs late after stopping off for takeout someplace in the early hours. They’d compliment her outfit – always something new, since nothing lasted long at the front of her wardrobe – then leave her to go towel her sweat. Then in hushed, awestruck voices they’d discuss the latest developments. Was she packing more in the rear? Did it balance up her front now – her bulging, jiggling belly? Was the fitness freak chafing? Waddling? They were just some of the reasons Beth was reluctant to go out with her boyfriend. She hadn’t enjoyed a proper date with him in months. She was too embarrassed at how far she’d let herself go, and she was afraid that Ryan would be too. There were skinny girls in the outside world. Fit girls. A night in town was just inviting the chance for his eyes to skip from her to theirs. She locked her gaze with her boyfriend on her next mouthful. A quarter of the cake was gone. Beth was painfully aware of herself. How each bite was making her bigger, and bigger. She forced a chocolatey smile. “Mmmphh. More.” Beth leaned closer with the next mouthful. The sheet slipped off her chest. Her breasts looked voluminous and round in her patterned black bra. Ryan’s eyes widened. “Ooops.” she exclaimed. She stretched out and took his left hand, letting it rest on her bosom. She twitched her fingers to prompt him to squeeze. He smiled. She giggled. His other hand came around and flicked off her bra strap. Beth felt her assets fall into his hand. They jostled for space, huge and heavy. Her left boob slipped from his fingers. He threw her bra aside and palmed it in his right hand. Beth’s surging weight had at least left her with two things she could be happy with. She knew Ryan loved her boobs. Beth smiled again. She kinda loved them too. She sighed as she let him fondle her, then brought his fingers away. She guided them back to the cake, and coaxed him it picking up a slice. Beth pulled Ryan close by his collar. She opened her mouth and sunk her tongue into the slice. Her eyes found their sparkle. “I love you.” she said, her sultry voice muffled in thick cake. “I love you too.” said Ryan. His hands left her breasts. They rolled down her chest again, Ryan’s hand with them. She giggled nervously. She felt his thumb trace the line of her panties. He tugged softly. Then a little harder. He slipped his fingers under the tight waistband and pulled. Beth froze as she felt his knuckles press into her love handle. This was too much. She couldn’t let him feel her fully naked. She cringed as she remembered the last time at her place – when she’d rolled on top of him and felt a breeze in her hair from the air that had been forced from her boyfriend’s lungs. She realised she was smothering him in fat. She’d apologised. She had tried to roll off, but found herself wobbling atop her blob of a stomach. She apologised again. “Don’t” Ryan had said. His voice was croaky. “You’re amazing.” He helped push her onto her back. She flopped on the mattress beside him. The bedsprings crunched. She lay mortified as her boyfriend pushed her thighs apart to feel her. She remembered how she’d jiggled, from her thighs to her chubby cheeks. “Enough.” she said, snapping back to reality. She guided his hand away, and rustled the sheet back over himself. “I feel tired. Maybe we could finish this cake tomorrow?” She looked over his shoulder to the muted romance on the television screen. “Yeah, sweetie,” said Ryan, sighing. He returned the chair to the table. “Sure.” He thought he’d followed the instructions clearly. A dose was one drop, and Pihl had said two doses in her coffee, no more. Ryan had put them in Beth’s morning coffee every day. At first he’d been met with a hidden happiness watching the expansive changes in her form, but it stopped when he checked the readings on his rigged scale over her shoulder and realised her weight had crossed one hundred and seventy-five pounds. A quick search online confirmed his inklings – Beth was plenty. More than plenty. Sensing he’d overshot the mark, Ryan felt a twinge when he checked a BMI calculator, and realised his gym bunny girlfriend was now twenty pounds overweight. He cut out the Trophopin accordingly. Beth by now had curves galore. Sexy as she’d become, Ryan knew it was time to take the focus off her body. It was time to focus on loving her for who she was. But within a week his girlfriend’s weight has eclipsed his own. She continued to eat to excess. Even without the stimulant she wasn’t curbing her portion sizes. Ryan was sure there’d be a sticking point. He was sure her old instincts would kick in again – she’d see she was getting chubby and go on a crash diet. Then he could say she didn’t have to. He’d say she was more beautiful than ever. The crash never happened. Her strong, toned arms and legs had slipped into softness and roundness as her curves quickly turned into rolls. The real kicker came when Ryan returned from work and found his girlfriend back on his couch, home early. She was surrounded by bags of fast food. She hadn’t changed from her work outfit. Her soft blue eyes looked reddened and raw. He asked her what she’d been doing. Beth’s tears fell anew as she admitted she’d ripped her shirt at a quarterly review. Everyone heard her split her seams. She’d run out of the room, unwilling to look anyone in the eye. She left the building and took refuge in a greasy spoon. Her boss phoned and asked her back. Kindly as he was, she insisted on no. She sunk lower and lower as they discussed what had happened in the boardroom – and earlier. Eventually, she took the offer of a sick leave. A few couple weeks of stressless rest, and a chance, her boss had hinted, to try and establish some control. “They think I can’t stop.” Beth sobbed. “And they’re right. I can’t stop. I just can’t stop eating!” Ryan stood alarmed and helpless as she shoved an arm past him for another box of fries. She stuffed hungrily, angrily. Beneath her strained shirt her stomach bulged. Half the box disappeared in moments. She rocked on her big bottom, reaching for more. “So hungry. So so hungry.” Beth thrust a fistful of salty fries into her mouth. Her cheeks swelled. The tear in her shirt grew a little wider as she stretched for a glass of soda. “Fat.” she snarled. “Fucking fat.” She seized a handful of belly that poked through the rip and jiggled it furiously. “Why am I so fucking fat?” Ryan couldn’t coax her away from more junk – not on that day, and not for weeks. Even when her sadness had subsided – even when her appetite slowly clambered down from the angry crest it reached the day she’d lost regular employment, her meal choices still cultivated comfort over effort. Through pizza, fries, chips and chocolate Beth was still consuming thousands of calories more than she should. She’d given up with the scale but for Ryan it was plain to see. She was getting fatter and fatter. Ryan reached Dr. Pihl for answers. He flung open the door. His pharmacy as ever, was balmy, stuffy, and empty. “You look mightily pissed.” said Pihl. “Too right,” said Ryan. “My girlfriend was skinny and unhappy. All your stupid cure-all’s done is make her huge and unhappy.” “Hey – like I said, I’m not a love coach. Happy’s your job, mister.” “Huge. I’m talking about huge.” said Ryan. “She’s so wide and round. She keeps bumping into things with how big she’s gotten. It’s a shock to her. It’s a shock to both of us. I never expected she’d get like this.” “Alright. Back to the pharmaceutical side. How much Trophopin did you give her? Was it two doses, like I said?” “Yeah. Two drops in her morning coffee. I remember. I gave that to her every time. Not a millilitre more.” “What do you mean every time?” Pihl raised an eyebrow over his glasses. “Every other day for about a month.” “Jesus – I didn’t mean every day! It’s supposed to be one time only!” Pihl seized clumps of his dark hair. The two of them paled to white. “Shit.” said Ryan. “Yeah, no shit,” said Pihl. His hands returned to his desk. “I hope you love your girl dearly. You’re going to be seeing a lot more of her.” “Is there an antidote?” “To what, Trophopin? No, for heaven’s sake. It’s a stimulant, not a poison.” “Is there anything else?” “For what? To stop it working?” “To stop her ballooning.” said Ryan. “I don’t think you understand. She’s over three-hundred. Fifteen more pounds and I think she’ll have tripled herself. And she’ll gain those fifteen pounds. Her eating…her gaining – it’s unstoppable.” “It will stop, eventually,” said Pihl. “You haven’t still been giving her the doses, all the better for both of you. Naturally, the effects will wear off. She’ll be herself again.” “But she’ll still be so overweight.” said Ryan. “She won’t get her old body back the way she is. She doesn’t go to the gym any more. She eats to comfort herself. Her confidence is in pieces.” “Maybe that’s what you need to cure.” said Pihl. “I think I’ve done my part. It’s time you do what you set out to. Do you care that she’s fat?” “Yes.” Ryan said. “No – I mean really. Do you really care what size your girlfriend is?” Pihl stressed. “I…well…no. No. I don’t care.” “And do you love her?” “Of course.” “Then prove it.” said Pihl. “Happiness isn’t something you can buy. It’s not a gym membership. It’s not junk food. Heck, it’s not even in one of the packets on my specials shelf. Those things will only make you happy when you’re using them. Sure, you can just keeping using them – but too much of anything makes you sick. You got me?” Ryan nodded. “You’ve gotta do something that will make her happy forever. Not get her flowers or a handbag or a fancy car. You’ve got to make a memory. Because that’s what sticks in the heart for as long as you both shall live…unless you try Claslateen Zero. That stuff wipes your head clean, I swear. I’m running a two for one.” “Damn Pihl, till that part you were really on a roll. But I get you. I think I know what I’ve got to do.” said Ryan. “Pleasure to be of service.” said Pihl. “Have a nice day.” Ryan chuckled as he opened the door. It was nine at night, and pitch black outside. “You’re not really a pharmacist, are you?” he said. “Heck no. I studied history and philosophy.” “Really? Which college?” “Oh, I never finished my degree. You see, I found Claslateen Zero – coincidentally that was round about the time I got this gig. At least…I think…” Ryan left the doctor to reminisce. He drove back to his apartment. He had a plan. It was Beth and Ryan’s five-year anniversary, and they’d both agreed on a meal at Augustus’ Buffet, an upmarket all-you-can-eat out of town. Down the corridor at her place Beth had watched her boyfriend don a tux from the bathroom mirror, as she applied her lipstick. She watched him spray himself with cologne, and realised she’d never seen him do that before. What if he’s going to propose? she wondered. More sinister thoughts soon bounded round her mind. “What if he’s bought a ring…” she mumbled to herself. “…and given it to the waiters to put on a lobster or something… he gets on one knee, pops the question, the whole place is watching, and then I can’t even put it on, because my fingers are too fat…” She shuddered at the thought. She cast a brief glance over at Ryan again from the mirror. For months it seemed he’d taken no notice as she’d piled on the pounds. Dieting and exercising had gone out the window. She was too tired to anything but sit, and eat, and grow before his eyes. How could he be so blind? Knowing him, he’d have bought her a ring at size two and a half. The kind she could have shown off in her skinny days. What am I thinking? He’s just being polite. He must think I’m a blimp. As if he’d propose to me now…now I’m like this. She cast her sad eyes down to her body; warm, soft, hulking and massive. She watched her considerable bosom heave as she breathed softly, then decided she didn’t want to stare at herself any longer. She waddled to the wardrobe in her room and dug out the dress she’d ordered for the occasion online – it was a deep sensual red. It brushed her knees where it should have trailed her ankles – half a foot or so above it hugged her hips and chest tightly. She gave it a tug. It just about fit. She tried to raise a smile as she joined her boyfriend in his car. She had some reason to be happy – she’d gotten her job back. A good word from Ryan had allowed her to switch firms and get a role in his office. She was in the company of people who’d never known her as skinny, fit – just enormously plump. She didn’t have to suffer the shame of returning to her old job having gained considerably more weight. But it was her weight that still weighed on her. An hour later, Beth grunted as she tried to unpick the folds of material out from her rolls of fat, using the mirror in the buffet’s restroom. She hated the way it made her stomach bunch up when she sat down. She lifted her blonde hair and let it fall over her shoulders, letting her double chin slip back under the shadow of its tresses. Once she was finally satisfied that she looked somewhat presentable again, she joined her boyfriend outside. Beth bit her lip nervously when she saw their names on the table Ryan had booked. They had been seated inside a booth. “Go on, honey.” said Ryan. Beth looked at him nervously, then cautiously made her move. She held her breath and squeezed herself in, grunting as she pressed down on the cushiony leather with her fattened fingers, shifting her butt inches at a time around the table. Her three-hundred and fifty pound figure wobbled gaily, and the restaurant furniture creaked in protest. She brought herself right around to the back and breathed out again. Her breasts sunk down to the top of the table. She mumbled a curse as she felt the pressure on her upper belly. “You say something?” Ryan asked. “Nothing,” Beth said quickly as she eyed the waiter. “Let’s get drinks.” Ryan ordered a gin and tonic, and Beth a strong red wine. She’d need it. “It’s kinda busy tonight.” Ryan noted as he watched his girlfriend gulp down half the glass. There were other couples in booths, and plenty of families, with a lot of kids running round between the waiter’s feet. “Maybe it’d be easier if you stay here and I get food for the both of us?” “Sure” said Beth, huffing. The table was making her breaths short. “What would you like?” “Anything. Anything would be good.” she said. She looked mildly jealous as she watched her boyfriend slip smoothly out of the booth and walk in the direction of the build-your-burger bar. She wanted to build her own burgers. But at least Ryan’s idea would spare her from getting up and down all the time. She tucked in to a huge triple stacked burger with fries when Ryan came back, himself with just a lowly single cheeseburger. She asked for pizza next, and together they shared a twenty-four inch cheesy meaty feast – she barely noticed she’d munched up nine slices to her boyfriend’s three. Just as she was starting to fill up she asked Ryan for a plateful of succulent cuts of steak. Then kebabs – each bite chewy and rich. Beth’s eyes had glazed over as she methodically poked the last two bites of popcorn chicken into her mouth. She had never felt so stuffed. Her belly was drum tight “That was…heh…that was awesome.” she smiled. It had been so good. The myriad of flavours coursing through her mouth. For a time all her worries had felt half a world away. “Dessert?” Ryan offered. “Err…yeah…one sec…” Beth had her eyes on the ice cream maker. She tried to breathe in, but found she was stuffed so full that she simply couldn’t. Instead she rolled onto her side, and edged her way along from beneath the table. Her back pressed against the seat as she squeezed out her legs. She tried to sit up, awkwardly, using her flabby arms to assist her ascent. Then she tried to stand up. “Ooof” she muttered, as her hips made contact with the table again. “Ooooooff” she said, as she pushed a little harder, and found the pressure had increased. “Ngghhh….nghh…oh!” “Beth? What’s wrong?” Beth felt a warm sweat appear on her brow. Her voice was shaky. “I’m…I’m stuck, Ryan.” Her body was jammed sideways between the table and the seating. Her feet didn’t quite reach the floor. She was sat at too awkward an angle to pull herself up. Ryan grabbed hold of her arms and gave her a short firm tug. She didn’t budge. He wrapped his arms around her chest and tried to lift her. It was a futile effort. She was simply too heavy for him. He saw Beth’s face was plastered with sweat and worry when he let go. “I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Stay here.” Beth threw him an angry look. “Yeah, it’s not like I’m going anywhere soon.” “Sorry…err…just wait a moment.” He went to the rotisserie, then the all day breakfast bar, and came back with three little packets of butter and a steak knife. “It’d be easiest if I open up your dress at the sides,” he whispered. “The butter’s a lubricant. You’re okay with me doing this, right?” “Sure.” Beth nodded. Her double chin creased up. “Just do it quickly…please…” Ryan knelt down and stroked the serrated edge along the red material. An inch wide tear appeared, and Beth’s eyes widened as it slowly grew in size. She felt coolness on her side as a love handle, freed from its cotton confines, morphed out onto the table. She stared as Ryan looked over his shoulder, picked the foil off the square of butter and quietly slathered it over her soft, exposed fat. “Ok, err…now the other side.” he whispered. His girlfriend was far too tightly pressed to the back of the seat for him to make another incision in her dress. “Err…bear with me here.” He unwrapped two more squares of butter and let them melt a little in his palm. He looked over his shoulder again then got down on one knee, and pretended to fiddle with the straps on her shoe. When he was confident no-one was looking, Ryan slipped his buttery hand underneath her dress. He shifted his fingers over the outside of her leg, past her enormous butt, and just before the tightness made him lose the circulation in his hand he smoothed the butter over the other side. “Ok,” he said, quickly withdrawing his forearm. “I’m gonna wash my hands. Then I’ll pull you out of here, and we’ll go. Are you okay?” “Yeah,” she mumbled, not looking him in the eye. “I’m fine.” She felt a lump in her throat as she watched Ryan walk to the restroom. Beth closed her eyes. How had she gotten so fat…so helpless? She was becoming dependent on others for everything – her boyfriend most of all. He’d helped zip up her dress when she couldn’t do it herself. He’d helped get the seatbelt over her stomach for the drive to the buffet. And now, he was going to help squeeze her out of the tight mess she’d gotten herself stuck into. A waiter dodged past her chubby legs, sticking out into the aisle. He gave her a brief glance. She smiled, and he headed back to the kitchen. He’s coming back for our plates… she realised. He’s going to see me wedged in here. No more help, she resolved to herself. She had to take back control. She tensed up the little muscle she had left in her arms and scowled as she saw nothing but more jiggling fat. She still felt she had some strength left inside though. Maybe that would be enough. Either way, she had to do this. She readied herself mentally, then gripped the edge of the table with one hand, and the top of the leather seat with the other. She scrunched up her face and heaved. Nothing. She slumped back down, took a deep breath and kicked her wobbling body back into motion. She felt the butter seep into her skin as she inched a little upward. Her feet found the floor again, and she pushed. The gap became impossibly tight, but she was moving. Her butt pressed up against the edges. Just a couple inches more... By the sink, drying his hands with a paper towel, Ryan turned his head to the door. He had heard an almighty crash come from the dining room. “Hey…” Ryan rubbed Beth’s shoulder as he drove home. “Don’t worry. Nobody got upset. The staff apologised more than anything. They even offered us another buffet, on the house.” Beth sniffled. Yeah, like I can ever go back… Her soft sobs had ceased, but the humiliation still felt painfully raw. So too did the marks on her hips, where the table had pushed into her yielding flesh. Her dress had split completely down the side, but her near-nakedness was not plain to see. Over the top she was now wearing a dessert platter, meant for the family of four whose table she’d crashed headlong into after popping out from her booth. The flimsy wood had smashed, and a whole host of cakes, fudges, creams and sauces had careened all over her. She lay there, paralysed by shock, and pinned by her heavy, quivering fat. It took Ryan and two more waiters to pull her back to her feet. Beth had wanted the ground to swallow her up. She felt weak and numb as Ryan put an arm around her and led her back to the car. Beth licked a smidgeon of cream off her cheek, wallowing in self pity. They drove for half an hour in silence before she could finally pluck up the courage to say something. “I’m…so sorry.” “Don’t be” Ryan said soothingly. “You did nothing wrong.” “I ruined our meal together…and somebody else’s…and I fucking broke a table, Ryan.” She lowered her head. “You must think I’m a pig…or something…” “No” said Ryan “You’re not. You’re beautiful.” “But – I’ve gotten so big. I’m fat, aren’t I?” “Yes.” Expecting a steady stream of the same-old sweet nothings, Beth hesitated. “You…you think so?” “Yes. I think you’re fat. And I think you’re beautiful. You know you can be both, right?” Beth’s mind spun. Her lips quivered. This was supposed to be her worst fear come true. And yet, it felt strangely lovely. “You think I’m beautiful?” she asked, as if for the first time. “Yes.” “Do you love me?” “I do.” Beth smiled. Her grin was even wider than the one she’d worn in her time at the buffet. “We’re here, by the way.” said Ryan. Beth only registered then that he’d parked the car and turned off the ignition. Ryan got out first, then led his girlfriend – still splattered with food – through a woodland. The air was cool and her dress was torn, but Beth still had the heat of shame amidst the warmth of her many layers of fat to keep the coldness away. She closed her eyes and waddled softly into the breeze, letting the wind rustle her hair as they approached an old oak tree. She saw a carving in the wood – a love heart, surrounding the letters B and R – and realised she was at the park. They’d had their first date there, and many more since. “Why are we here?” asked Beth, perplexed. She stroked a finger over her belly and licked up a slither of chocolate fudge. “To cheer you up, maybe?” Ryan smiled. “I was going to save this till after dessert, but, hey…” He took her hand as he got down on one knee. He produced a little box from his inside pocket. Beth gasped as he flicked it open. A diamond ring glittered in the moonlight. “Bethany Sanders” said Ryan, softly. “Will you marry me?” Beth couldn’t find words to say. She felt fresh tears mush up over her chubby cheeks. She guided a wobbly hand to the ring box, and slipped it over her ring finger. It was a golden band, size eleven. And it fit her perfectly.

Hello! I'm Sarah a 21 year old horror obsessed feedee girl that celebrates kinks, sex, and loving your body! Please feel free to message me, ask how I got into the fetish, etc.