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  1. By: BaneOfDreams (https://www.deviantart.com/baneofdreams/art/Gluttonous-Wetwork-Chapter-One-855634991?ga_submit_new=10%3A1600543897) Summary: An elite mercenary of proud heritage, Snow-White, is tasked with eliminating a problematic magical girl on a long list of them: Candy. What seemed to be a simple task quickly turns into a horrific trip into decadence and decay. The lone patron of a small-town diner white hair hinted at her peculiar heritage: Thanatonian. An amalgamation of several years of selective breeding to produce a society of elite soldiers. Snow-White was one of the highest profile of her kind and for good reason. The femme fatale has been all over the world facing all sorts of threats that range from the run of the mill warlord that needs to be taken down a notch - or a cyborg that has broken their corporate directives and has gone rogue. Usually, she would find herself nestled up in a defilade biding her time waiting to strike at who, or what, her handler, Queen, had designated to be her next contract to support the cause; however, this operation was different. It was a bit more - subtle? Down to Earth? Homely? Snow-White contemplated this as she poked at her third calorie-clotted pastry that had been halfway devoured. However, the specifics of her operation were soon overtaken by a burning issue: The first pastry, not enough cream. Second one, still not enough. Her analytical mind mused on, usually accustomed to calculating bullet drop, now trying to determine the proper amount of whipped cream would be a suitable amount for her strawberry pasty. The waitress had been so kind to give her an ample bowl of creamy-white-goodness, but she had used almost all of that up already. Snow-White scrapped at the bowl trying to scoop up the last bits of cream and apply it to her yet to be finished pastry. She let out a little grumble of disappointment seeing as she could only get a thin layer onto her pastry before running out of residue to spread. Truthfully, she wanted to beckon that ginger-haired waitress on over to request yet another bowl, but social situations were not her forte. Instead, she elected to look to her right and view the inky black night. Truly, this was a lonely little town of ones: one stoplight, one diner, one school - but that was typical for rural America. What was unusual is that her work, tracking a high-profile target, brought her here. Usually, if this was a typical operation, she would be in a bustling city or deep wilderness - not some backwoods town where everyone knows each-other. But she was never one to argue with Queen's intel. So, she passed the time and went go get something sweet as-per her handler's advice. But there still was not enough cream! "Here ya' go sugar," a sultry voice cooed. Snow-white turned to face the voice. It was that ginger waitress who, to Snow-White's surprise, managed to creep up on her without her finely tuned senses noticing her. She must be getting tired, incredibly bored from the bland operation, or some combination thereof because even a literal phantom could not get the drop on her. Snow-White's foggy blues were locked onto the waitress with some lingering astonishment and suspicion. The short-skirted uniform that hugged her soft-hourglass alluded that this waitress had no formalized training other than the occasional extra doughnut - a body more suited for pleasure rather than creeping about. After-all, the ginger's full, undimpled, plush thighs hugged each-other so tightly that any fine-tuned movement would probably be off-set by a clap of sorts. "Uh, sugar, you're makin' me blush with that stare," her milky-white skin had begun to shift to a color matching her ginger hair. She tapped the table and pushed forward another bowl of cream along with an additional pastry, "On the house. Figured ya' had the appetite." Snow-White realized her rudeness and averted her gaze. She was not one for small talk, so she expressed her gratitude with a small nod and hoped this would dismiss the shapely server. Unfortunately, it did not. "Couldn't help but notice your pretty-pretty white hair," the waitress put her hand on the booth just behind Snow-White's back and leaned in closer, her bulbous breasts revealed by her slightly unzipped top quite close and on display, and a sweet smell of perfume basking from her fleshy body, "Don't look dyed either, ya one of them legendary fighters?" Snow-White received her nickname, despite not being the only of her race with white hair, for her refusal to hide it. It was a intimidation factor of sorts and a fun challenge; unfortunately, in these quiet moments, it was a potential draw-back. Most people simply overlooked it or minded their distance, but the occasional nosy individual would start asking questions. "Nope," Snow-White curtly rolled off in a monotone voice, hoping that would discourage the waitress from further prying. This failed once her belly grumbled and sounded that very human sign of hunger. "Oh, woulda' thought considering you have the appetite of a warrior," she teased in response to the embarrassing grumble. She even went so far to playfully poke Snow-white's toned belly. This unwelcome display of playfulness was met by a sinister glare from Snow-white which signaled for the waitress to back off. A lower, less audible grumble sounded, but was equally embarrassing. "Milk," Snow-white demanded. "Gotcha hun," the waitress waddled off with swishing hips to retrieve a glass of milk for Snow-white. Once she returned with the glass, Snow-white waited for the waitress to dismiss herself before downing the entire glass rather quickly. She was rather hungry, but did not want to keep eating and eating, so she decided to try and give herself a bit of a bloat to fill herself up. This was a little trick she learned from long, isolated, deployments - she would typically try to down something filling so she did not have to spend so much time being hungry. To her dismay, and surprise, her guzzling of the milk was akin to dumping it into a bottomless barrel. No excess pressure built up in her belly, but a peculiar coolness assured her that the was in-fact resting inside her stomach. She glared over in the direction of the waitress who was behind the counter humming a happy tune as she cleaned up. Something just felt – off? No-one had entered the diner for however long she had been in here and the town seemed to be quite dead—not a single car strolling by on the nearby road. Whatever, she was hungry and had one and a half pastries to finish. She piled the cream from the bowl onto the untouched pastry and planted the half-pastry onto it making a sandwich. In just a few chomps, the fattening treat was soundly inside her. Even this display of indulgence did little to ward off the empty feeling in her gut. Truthfully, she wanted to gorge some more, but a cruel reminder of what happens to those Thanatonian women who lose their ability to operate effectively. The latent thought was enough to cause her to immediately place far too much cash on the counter and leave the diner. “Seeya soon sugar!” The ginger-waitress cooed as Snow-white made her departure. Once outside, it was as if a miasma of some sort had been lifted. The lonely town seemed a little less lonely. A few cars were driving about and the parking lot she exited into was, well, packed. This set off a sudden alarm of danger within her being. She slowly turned around to find that the diner was packed with people. Instinctively, she lowered her hand down to her belly and felt the slight taut bump through her somewhat baggy black hoodie. She could only feel that she was full via touch, but internally she was still as empty feeling as ever. A wave of alarm came over her and suddenly mission directives that she had forgotten came back to her: I walked into a trap… That was the only thing she thought before retrieving her cellphone to report in with her handler. To her shock, Queen had called Snow-White a total of eight times and left a singular text reading: Rose The universal Thanatonian distress signal. Snow-White knew, despite the calm lonely little surrounding town, that her situation was grave.
  2. Does anyone know of a site that tells a feedee story related to that name if you put a name here in the old days? I am very curious
  3. Hello Everyone! I am The Drifter. Long time writer, first time posting here. I think? Anywho. Decided to pull this short story out from the dpeths of my PC and share it here! Contains burps, farts, and lots of food. Enjoy! He was in his perfect place. Watching her was like watching an angel descend from the heavens and though he felt like his heart could take off and fly away with her, he stayed in his seat. A wooden chair placed to the side of a long wooden dinner table, the perfect spot for him to watch the love of his life devour her dinner tonight. Watching her eat is like witnessing the next wonder of the world coming to life. Each bite she took with her delicate fingers. She ate with a grace that one would expect from the most feminine of women. Not too fast as to enjoy every bite but not so slow to keep them at the table for the entire night. Just the perfect balance for them to both enjoy the night for the right amount of time for them both to fully enjoy the spectacle she put on. And put on she did. The wore a rather nice black skirt and button-up top she wore in her late teenage years. It was safe to say she had grown a bit since then as her thick caramel thighs gushed from the large hole at the bottom of the skirt. The fabric clung to her curves like its own life depending on it, or like it was struggling to survive the bulges of fat around her middle. Digging into her prominent love handles and threatened to tear when she sat down at the table before the feast. They didn’t last long… Even with the assistance of the button-up shirt tucked into her skirt, the three specially made pies, plates of collard greens, both a turkey leg and breast proved too much for the article. The stubborn zipper created a resounding rip as it tore with the fabric down her side. He even gasped, seeing her lips curve into an ‘O’ with relief as her belly-flopped out onto its proper porch that was her thunderous thighs. Her shirt still held strong, just barely showing her delicious tanned skin between the holes as they stretched taught over her ** belly. She giggled and he laughed but nothing else was needed to be said. Their brief gazes into each other’s eyes and timid blushes expressed all they were feeling for one another. As she continued to eat, he continued to watch. He would be remiss if he didn’t keep a good eagle eye on her chest. A pair of round sacks of flesh upon her chest was the perfect size for them to fill his hands. They almost seemed to grow with every pound of food she carefully passed through her lips. It was especially exciting when she was surprised by a powerful hiccup. The jolt following a rather rapid swig of her drink caused the top two buttons to fly off near freeing her breasts completely if it weren’t for her little black bra. The eating continued like this. She filled plate after plate with whatever she could reach and when she would have been required to get up from her seat, he would stand to bring it to her. This was far from their first time, by this point the two of them were a well-oiled eating machine. Well, she was an eating machine, he was her pit crew. Buttons continued to fail on her blouse as she continued. Two tins of casserole disappeared into her stomach and another button popped off around her chest. A dense pound of meatloaf sat heavily in her gut causing the bottom button to skitter right off her thighs. It took a giant bowl of potato salad, the whole rotisserie chicken, and half of the whole turkey to get the next button to fly across the room. It is one of the final three, it was the one in the center of her belly and revealed the dark hole of her belly button. Fat from her growing potbelly bulge from the holes left by her buttons and he was eager for the last two to pop. As a personal challenge for them both, he would not assist in a belly rub until her belly was completely free. Damn, those buttons were just about as stubborn as she was. Wanting to not only finish everything without any assistance, but she also desired to make herself as full as possible for him. Keeping everything down including gas, her stomach was like a passing storm with the loud growls and gurgles it was emitted by the time she reached her last plates. Still, even with her belly sticking out a good foot onto her lap and far beyond the reach of her modest breasts, the buttons simply stayed dug into the flesh of her enormously soft gut. He wondered what would go first, the love of his life or the buttons of her blouse as she finished off the last of the turkey. The rest of its body picked clean as was the rest of the dishes upon the table. Her belly was massive, far larger than he had ever seen it before and he was with her last Thanksgiving. Even though today was no holiday, they did make sure to get all the food their disposable income could manage. Her belly, an enormous ** that even with all the food packed into it still looked like a large, fatty, gut. A tummy that ‘pregnant’ didn’t quite describe properly. It wasn’t quite round enough for that. And it’s what he loved most about it. No matter how much she ate, the abundance of fat that naturally stored there kept it a nice, plush center he could always sink his hands into. And the time for him to do so finally came. To call an end to her feast, she licked every one of her fingers clean of any residue left by her meal. Slowly plunged each digit behind her lips and slowly dragged them out until she got to her last finger. She pulled it out slower than ever, finding a delicious piece of sauce-covered chicken she had to suck off. It left her lips with a tiny pop and she sighed with the accomplishment all inside of her roaring middle. One that desperately needed relief. He looked to her golden-brown eyes then to the buttons. She knew, closing her eyes as she brought her hands to the sides of her enormous gut and brought them in with a delicate but forceful slap. A wave-like ripple surged over her soft abdomen and sent the buttons careening off of her shirt, allowing her belly to bounce outward to its full size upon her lap. It glorped like an aquarium and let out not one but two simultaneous but distinct gurgles like two dogs fighting for territory. Worried, he prepared to move to her aid, but knowing what was going on inside herself, she leaned to the side with a pained expression and her cheeks reddening for what was to come. A pair of gaseous eruptions blew from her top and bottom simultaneously. A raucous belch aimed towards the ceiling shook the floor above while her boisterous fart rattled the floor beneath them. The enormous but equal to her meal expulsions together shook the entire room. He watched in loving delight as he felt the table he held onto shifting across the tiled floor. The empty pots, plates, and glasses clattering just as much as the dishes still left in the cupboard on the other side of the kitchen. He was almost worried, at least expecting that the pane glass window directly behind her seat would crack with the unnerving wobbling noise he could pick up just over the gas his girl was letting out. And just when he was wondering if they were ever going to end, they began to fade. Soon coming to an end and leaving minimal damage to their surroundings. After a few moments, he moved in to sink his hands into her gut. Giving it a great congratulatory rub for all she had done. Though embarrassed by her final release, she was over the moon with the smile he had on his face. Thankful that she could please him with such accomplishments. The two shared a long kiss, he shared all the things he loved about her and she let him know that she should’ve been letting out the gas throughout the meal. Because she still had room for more…
  4. Bella squirmed in her seat as her cab pulled up to the hotel. She’d had weekends of gluttony in hotels for filming before, but never anything like this: a whole week, luxury suite, no limits on her room service or food delivery budget, all provided by her benevolent feeder. Seven days of unfettered gluttony and indulgence awaited her. High with excitement, she floated through reception, grabbing her key, up the elevator, down the hall, into the lovely, spacious suite. A bottle of champagne was on ice on a room service cart, alongside several trays of beautiful appetizers and a note reading “Dive in, let go, no limits ❤️“ Bella squealed with delight, dropping her suitcase, stripping her jacket off and kicking her shoes into a corner, then grabbing the bottle and a tray and plopping down on the couch. She raised the sweating bottle to her lips and took a long gulp, letting out a small belch and grinning before stuffing two pretty appetizers in her mouth, reveling in the delicious roast beef and caramelized onion tartlets’ perfectly balanced flavors and textures. “No cheap filler for you this week, you incorrigible thing” she said, directing her attention towards her soft belly, already pressing over the waistband of her jeans like dough, but empty to her greedy eyes. “Only delicious, irresistible delicacies and libations, as far as the *uuuurp* eyes can see!” The bottle was lifted to her lips again, and she pulled at it, glugging and chugging down over half it’s contents in a single go. Letting out another long, rich belch, she grabbed tartlet after tartlet, slug after slug of champagne, until the tray and the bottle rested empty on the coffee table before her. “UUUUUURRRHIYP!” She let out a rich belch ending in a hiccup, and heaved herself to her feet, pulling the room service cart to the couch and plopping backwards. She noticed two extra bottles of bubbly on ice in their own buckets on the lower level of the cart as she did, and moaned in anticipation. She grabbed another bottle and popped it, reaching for more treats with one hand as she brought the fresh bottle to her lips. Slug after slug on the bottle were interspersed with ravenous devouring of delicious bites, punctuated by rich burps and moans, and the occasional sigh of relief as she unbuttoned her pants or unsnapped her bra to gorge herself in total comfort and freedom. Not 20 minutes after entering her room, two bottles of champagne lay empty on the floor, and five large trays of appetizers were empty, stacked haphazardly on the coffee table before a woman transformed. Her pants lay open, stretched tightly against her fupa, her gut bulging up in a churning hemisphere, her shirt and bra had been discarded, and her fat tits rested on either side of her bulging mass of stomach, and she teased a nipple with one hand while rubbing the lower part of her gut with the other. “Uuuurp! Helluva start.”
  5. Some of you may remember me posting that I was going to write a short story some time ago. I feel like my ideas are organized well enough to do so now! I will write the first of roughly 10-12 chapters over the next few hours. For those who just cant wait here is a little synopsis for you :D.. The name is "The Class Pet". It is about a young college student named Emily who is studying to become personal trainer/dietitian. Little does she know, she will become part of an example used by her teacher to help her classmates learn about weigt gain and its affects on the human body. You can expect quite a few stockholm syndrome components here, as opposed to physical domination. "The Class Pet" Chapter 1: Potential *BEEP BEEP..... BEEP BEEP* The alarm on professor Michaels' watch alerted him to the fact that his third class of the day (right after lunch) had began. As he began to do his roll call he was interrupted by the squeak of the classroom door. It wad an adorable brunette loaded down with snacks, scurrying to the nearest chair she could find. He gave her a scathing glare and continues down his list. Emily Adams? "Here!" said the girl who had just ran in. She promptly followed this by opening her package of oreo cookies rather loudly. The proffesor could not believe a student would dare eat something so unhealthy in a class that was about diet and exercise. It was only the first day of school and he might have already found his example for the cautionary portion of the weight gain chapter. "If this young lady is eating in this manner before she meets the freshmen 15, I cant even imagine what she will be like with a little coaxing!" he thought to himself happily. "Now now," he reminded himself. "I must take my time and make absolutely sure that she is my best possible class pet". Chapter 2: Pear Unknown to Emily, Over the next couple months the professor would assess his candidate as best as he could, inside and out. After studying Emily throughout a whole week of classes, Professor Michaels had made a mental note that along with being late everyday, she brought (and ate) 5 different snacks to his class everyday as well. This went on for about a month or so when he started noticing the pounds sneaking on to her previoulsy boyish figure. When school had begun, she just must've weighed no more than 110lbs. Now, it was clear to him, she had been doing way more than just snacking. If he had to guess he would say she is now every bit of 125, with almost every single pound sticking to her belly. It was very clear that she was rapidly outgrowing her clothing. The professor had never seen anything like it. She had given up on pulling her shirts down for the most part, so he was able to see virtually every pound she gained. Her hips grew wider to accommodate her expanding gut, making her the ultimate pear. "Well," thought Professor Michaels, "physically she is the perfect class pet, I just need to make sure she is mentally suited." With that in consideration he decided to tease her about her snacking in front of the whole class. Her reaction to this teasing would help him decide if she was the appropriate choice. Chapter 3: EAT IT It was the first monday in the second month of school when Mr Michaels' class filed in to the class room. 5 minutes after class started, like clockwork, Emily rushed in. She clumsily dropped her package of mini doughnuts as she hastily took her seat. She bent over over to pick them up, and as she sat up, she was met by Professor Michaels staring down at her with a condescending smirk on his face. "Is lunch never enough for you Ms. Adams?" he sneered rather rudely. "You always seem to feel the need to interrupt my class with your incessant snacking." Emily turned bright red and began tugging on her shirt in a sad attempt to cover the large roll of fat that was on display for everybody to see. "Oh knock it off, we all know its there. I'm not the only one who has noticed it, am I class?" He asked rhetorically. "You know miss adams, when or should i say, if you become a dietician, nobody is going to trust your opinion with that mound of blubber sitting where your waist should be." Emily started to tear up absentmindedly playing with the wrapper of her doughnuts. "Well arent you going to eat them like you do every day?" The professor asked sadistically. With out a single word, she opened the doughnuts and stuffed them in her mouth one by one.
  6. Curvybaby just got released free from a mysterious feeder/kidnapper that took her one night at the beginning of the summer at a bar; she finally returns home and calls her friend that she hasn’t spoken to in months, and told her all about what the obsessive feeder guy did to her all summer! She comes home bigger and fatter than ever and tells the whole story! While being super nervous to see her friends again she makes her bestie promise not to tell the others how utterly fat she’s become fearing they won’t recognize her newly fattened form 🫢😏
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  7. So I wrote this fictional story about a skinny girl gaining weight (especially around the belly area) in my spare time. I started writing it in my native language (Dutch) and later on translated it to share it with you. Hence, if you see any grammatical or word-related errors, this is why, I hope it's still readable. If you dig this story, leave a heart or something and then I will probably translate the sequel and share it here. Enjoy! There was once a slender, pretty girl called Rosaly whom I knew and we met up occasionally. She was around 5´6, had long blond hair, a very attractive face, radiant blue eyes and a slender body. Although she had a slender body, she wore those high-waisted pants, a piece of clothing that girls usually wear to cover up a part of their belly (even though that wasn't necessary for her). There are probably some that just wear them because they feel comfortable. Secretly, when most girls sit, I watch if a fatroll is created on their belly, even though I know they are slim. I´ve regularly seen Rosaly sitting, also with a tight shirt, but despite that I have never enjoyed such a sight. Everything about her is slender: her face, legs, arms and also her belly. She does have a good portion of boobs. Anyway, three months passed by and I stayed in contact with her via WhatsApp, but I've not seen her in real life. I know that she worked at New York Pizza the last three months (she's taking a year break from college). Whatever would be the impact of this I would notice soon enough, but I'll come back tot this later. I met up with her after those three months on a warm day in the city. Our rendez-vous point was behind the market on a brick wall, where it was not too crowded. Oddly enough I was on time and I had to wait for Rosaly's arrival. After 10 minutes I saw her walking towards me, I recognized her long blond hairs, slender posture and sweet smile from a distance. She wore a backpack and also wore her usual outfit: a tight, white shirt and blue jeans that was pulled up to her bellybutton (I can not remember a day where I saw her without those pants). We gave eachother a hug and chatted a little. After a while she told me that she had a surprise, she grabbed her backpack and reached in it. On this moment I could not resist to catch a glimpse of her belly that, as usual, was partly covered by her pants and partly covered by her white, tight shirt with an illustration on it of a Chinese panda. In those few seconds I looked at her shirt full of amazement, not because of the panda, but because for the first time of my life I noticed that there was a curvature under her shirt. I recognized it immediately, this must be a fatroll. My eyes lowered a few inches and I made a second observation that was new to me: her jeans were a bit tighter around her stomach. My view raised a few more inches now until I saw her face. There was no change here, she had the same beautiful, blue eyes, tight jawline and attractive face. After a few seconds a smile appeared, after which she said: "Ah, I finally found it." I forgot for a brief moment that she was reaching in her bag for a surprise in the time that I made these two nice observations. She pulled out a little cardboard pizzabox, opened it and showed the pizza that was sliced to half lying in it. "I hope you didn't recently eat something," she said, "I thought, let me bring a pizza from work." I smiled at her, "so nice that you remembered that chicken is my favorite pizzatopping." We both had three slices of pizza, we grabbed the first one and toasted the slices of pizza like it was a Heineken beer, after which we put the slices in our mouths. After five minutes, we devoured our half of the pizza, after which I thanked her for the dish and asked whether she made these herself. She nodded and asked "do you mind if I roll up my shirt? I'm beginning to feel a little warm." I blushed a little and swallowed, I definitely didn't see this question coming. I said "no, of course not" and I looked forward to the next few seconds, since I noticed a few minutes ago that she got a decent amount of bellyfat from the previous months. Of course I wanted to see that with my own eyes. She rolled up her shirt and tucked it under her bra and, would you look at that, her upper fatroll was now not covered by the Chinese panda. I could not keep my eyes off it: above her tight jeans her gut was sticking out. I immediately looked back to her face, because I could not look a notable amount of time to her new asset. She moved her lips that were covered in red lipstick and I heared "Pff, I'm so full from the pizza, I had another one with shawarma as breakfast. Excuse me for a moment." Her hands moved towards her pants, that was sitting tight around her midsection. She did what was almost not imaginable in this stadium, but seemed rather logical because of what she just said. She grabbed her zipper and zipped it downwards. Since her pants was already so tight around her belly, this happened rather easily and it created an open space between the two sides of the zipper, in which I saw a piece of her softer belly. I did not see her whole gut, because the part of her pants above her zipper was kept together by one button. This is the button that keeps the front of her pants together. This is the button that keeps me from seeing how fat her belly has become the past three months. This button is similar to the floodgates of a dam that keeps the water of one side from flowing to the other side. This button is similar to the lock of a gate with agressive chimps behind it that want to storm out. This button is similar to the cap of a bottle coke that has been shaked a lot. This button keeps the stuff together. When this button is unbuttoned, all the water will flow to the other side, the agressive chimps will storm uit, the coke will burst from the bottle and her belly will pop out and take the actual form that is not suppressed by her pants that are way too tight. Pants that are about to burst, because its lock, stock and barrel are kept together because of that one button. I see Rosalys pants and Rosalys belly struggling to be freed from this torment, from which Rosaly notices the effect herself. This struggle lasts for only a few seconds, since her fingers moved from her zipper to the notorious button. The few seconds of struggle are extended because of Rosalys struggle to unbutton it. Since the two pieces of fabric that are connected by the button are pushed away from each other because of the newly formed roll of fat on Rosalys belly, it is a bit tough to push the button through the corresponding gap. You can hear Rosaly thinking "this has not always been that tough right?" After a few seconds in which I saw Rosaly struggle with the button, and saw her pants and belly struggle to finally be distanced from each other, the time had come. The floodgates had opened and all the water was free to flow to the other side. The coke bursted from the bottle. The chimps stormed out. The pants bursted open. The distance between the two pieces of fabric that were kept together because of the zipper became larger and larger. This space is now reserved for Rosalys belly, which, after a moan and a sigh of relief from Rosaly, growed until it rested four inches far on Rosalys lap. The two pieces of pants that were connected by the button are now a few inches apart with between them a big layer of fat that was first hidden under them. Now the time has come for my pants to become a bit tight, but this was because something under my pants had become stiff after seeing this spectacle. I rested my hands on my lap to hide it a bit. Rosaly however, rested her hands on her belly, which rested on her lap open and exposed. Because she breathed out during her sigh, her gut has become maximum in size. I did not believe what I saw. This was hidden under her pants, and it took me so long to figure out. In this position, with her belly open and exposed and her two hands with fingers stretched and resting on her belly, you would think that she was pregnant. But no, I immediately knew that this belly consisted of pure fat. Fat formed from pizza probably. I noticed that I was looking a little bit too long at her chubby belly. How could I not: all this time I saw Rosaly as a slender, attractive chick. She of course still is, but now with a round pizzabelly. She followed my eyes and that led to her looking down at her belly. "Oh, that is where all the pizza's went", she joked, after which she smiled and grabbed a good roll of fat with both hands between thumb and index finger. This roll is even bigger than the one I saw when her belly was exposed but her pants were still buttoned around her midsection. This topic intrigues me obviously, so I asked along. "Did you eat a lot of pizza's lately?" I asked, even though I knew damn well what the answer was based on her new midsection, which she was still grabbing between four fingers. "For sure," she reacts, "I am finally free to bring as many pizza's as I want with me. Well, that is not technically true. Not more than two per day actually. So usually I only bring two pizza's per day. One for dinner and one for the evening or the next morning. Or in this case for you." I thought to myself "ónly two pizza's per day? God damn. Since she works five days a week there, it makes snese that she gained this much weight." That is not what I said, I was a bit more polite. "Nice. But don't you eat a little ehh, unvariated. And unhealthy" I said, while I was smiling at her to make it seem not too critical or mean. "Unhealthy, sure. Unvariated, not really. I ensure that I use two different toppings everytime." The next thing I brought a bit careful, this is sometimes a sensitive topic for girls. "Aren't you afraid that you are gonna lose your slender figure, with all this dough and cheese? I don't mean to say that you are not slender now…" "You don't have to lie haha," she said immediately after, "I know I gained a bit of weight since I worked there. 22 pounds to be exact…" I almost choked on my own saliva, 22 pounds in three months! That's almost an achievement, certainly for someone that is built as slender as Rosaly. "But I don't regret it", she goes on, "I am not ashamed by it or anything. This is just natural" she said, while she grabbed her whole belly with both hands instead of just a fatroll. "That I was this slender three months ago, was just a coincidence. Not because I was afraid to get fatter, but because I didn't eat enough to challenge my metabolism. Apparently I eat so much nowadays that I'm gaining some pounds here and there. But I don't think it's that bad, do you think so?" she asked, while she gave me a look that asked for confirmation. I had to keep myself from blurting out that I do not think it's bad but, on the contrary, fucking sexy. I reacted with "You don't hear me complaining. You still look good and you ehh hardly notice your belly like this." One of the biggest euphemisms I have ever used. "You are certainly not fat, I was just curious how you thought about it. And I thought that, were you still willing to lose a couple of pounds, you could join me and go to the gym together. Then you would hang out at the cardio area, and I would be busy with the free weights." "No cardio for me", she said determined, whilst she gave a clap to her belly, what caused a vibration of her fat. "Far too exhausting." She rolled out her white shirt, that was still tucked under her bra, and pulled it over her belly. Ironically, her gut looked even bigger now it's covered, because of the contours of her belly being really visible under her tight, white shirt. She held in her belly, which made the Chinese panda move backwards, and grabbed the two pieces of fabric of her pants with both hands and tried to pull those towards each other. This went rather easily, since her held-in belly was for a brief moment no obstacle for her pants, and while she still held in her gut she zipped her pants. Immediately after this, she relieved her belly, what resulted in her fatroll appearing above the edge of her pants, the curvature in her pants appearing and the top of her pants becoming tighter. "Everything back to its place?" I joked. She reacted with a nod and a laugh and afterwards we talked about non weight gain-related stuff.
  8. *reposted from my DeviantArt. First two parts of an ongoing weight gain story. Much more to come* Chapter I & II Most of us, whether we think about it in scientific terms or not, believe that there is at the core of everything, a rock solid, objective reality. Sure our perception might change, we may be incapable of perceiving things for what they really are, either by design or defect, but regardless there is a solid bedrock of definitive truth beneath the layers of subjectivity. But there are others that claim, that reality is by no means as stable as we may think it is. That it is in fact very fluid, and may in fact be constantly changing. There are many different theories concerning why this may be. Some believe it to be some side effect of living in an infinite Multiverse, two different versions of our world crossing paths, and resulting hybrid taking on elements of both. Others believe that these changes are due to Bradbury-esque time travelers from our own future causing irreparable damage to our past, or perhaps a glitch in a proposed matrix. Still others may claim that it is the work of some spiteful or mischievous deity or some avatar of chaos, bending reality for its own amusement. Evidence of any of these theories appears to be sorely lacking, and when it does surface it is usually in the form of mis-remembered names of children’s book authors, or some forum user claiming they made a turkey sandwich only to bite into ham, and most all seem to be tainted with a sense that the teller of the tale either has an undeserved confidence regarding their memory and a refusal to admit that they were wrong, or more innocently a simple desire to feel special. In all likelihood if there are more extraordinary examples of this fluctuating reality, and more to the point people whose memories are unaffected by these changes, sharing their story on some internet forum would be the last of their concerns. Their time no doubt spent trying to come to terms with whatever reality has decided to bend their life into. Jessica Foster was in fact one of these people. Calling her an “experiencer” may be putting too dull a point on things, as most would probably see her more as a victim. Helplessly dragged along as the forces that be rewrote her entire life, not with the snap of the finger, but instead slowly tweaking some sort of celestial dial until it settled on some new normal. And as extreme as her case may have been, much like those that swear up and down that it was Berenstein bears, or that the lunch they’re eating is not the one they packed, all she had to remind her that she had ever been anyone else, was her memories, but it time, she feared, these too would fade. Prior to the change Jessica’s life would, ironically, be best be described as nondescript. By any measure, she had lived a completely average life. She grew up in a loving two parent home in the suburbs of Chicago. In school she had been known as a reserved but bubbly girl, beloved by most of her classmates and teachers, but rarely drawing attention to herself, instead maintaining a small circle of friends, though she was recognized as a capable, cross country runner in high school. Her athleticism was notable enough to be offered a few partial scholarships, though she ultimately decided to shirk the traditional college life, opting to attend a local community college for a bachelors in humanities, Wishing to stay close to her friends and family and also not feeling her chosen degree was worth the debt a more traditional university would lead to. She had graduated about a year ago. She had taken some time to save up money, going full time at the specialty shoe store that had been her only employer since junior year, while trying to figure out what she wanted to do next. She still wasn’t sure to be honest, but after a few months she decided it was time to at least take a baby step forward and began to seek more gainful employment. She had eventually taken a job as a claims adjuster at a large insurance company in the city. It certainly was not what she wanted to do for the rest of her life, but the pay was surprisingly lucrative for a recent college graduate, and her new found income along with her small savings had allowed her to rent a modest apartment in the city. The by then 24 year old brunette quickly began adapting to her adult life. Her personality remained relatively unchanged since high school, she was still a seemingly perfect blend of introvert and extrovert, always quick with a joke (usually at her own expense) or words of encouragement but never deliberately drawing attention to herself. She would rarely be the one to start of discussion, but would always be a welcome participant in one, and this led to her being quickly beloved by virtually everyone in her department. In particular her friend Sam and Terri, who had quickly become like sisters to her. Sam and Terri were the only other women in their twenties in Jess’s office. Well that wasn't strictly true, but they were the only other two twenty somethings that hadn’t already settled down and began popping out kids. Sam and Terri were polar opposites. Sam, short for Samia, was a boisterous black-haired beauty from Iran, while Terri was a mousey ginger girl who rarely spoke unless spoken too. The two had started to work in the office several months prior to Jess, being slightly older than her at 27 and 26 respectively, and had quickly become best friends after the gregarious Sam noticed the shy redhead sitting alone in the cafeteria and had decided it was her out of her shell. This was working to an extent, as the painfully bashful Terri had even begun to attempt to flirt with men who would often approach the two while they were out. The relationship was far from one sided however, Terri’s natural state apprehension serving as a sort of restrictor plate for the sometimes overly enthusiastic Sam, a sort of nervous voice in the back of her head that had prevented her from making more than one bad decision. In Jess the two found a perfect medium between their polar opposite personalities and the three quickly became even more insperable than the preceding pair had ever been. Going out for drinks together several times a week, and their “girls nights in” had become a staple of Saturday nights. They would even try to coordinate triple dates a practice that usually ended with 3 very confused looking suitors, as the women would lose themselves in a stream of in jokes and work stories. And this was the life Jess had settled into. Was it what she wanted to do for the rest of her life? Absolutely not, but the 24 year old couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction with what she had, a life that began to unravel one fateful monday morning. From the moment her alarm went off that morning something felt slightly off. Jess was always a bit of a morning person, though as she would often point out that she was not one of those people. Instead of being blessed with just the right amount of pep to complete a morning ritual with far more vigor than the more drowsy among us could ever hope to muster. But this morning she felt as though a heavy blanket was weighing her down. She lay there for several minutes before even bothering to silence the alarm on her phone. Sitting up, her eyes struggled to adjust to the light as she continued to just sit there, unmoving, trying to collect her thoughts, eventually pulling herself out of bed, and glancing at her phone again only to notice that her slacking had already managed to put her behind schedule. She meandered towards her dresser, attempting feebly to get moving a little faster. She grabbed a bra and panties from their respective drawers, then went to her closet to grab some slacks, a blouse. blazer and a pair of modest heels. Again looking at her phone’s clock with dismay she wondered if she could get away with a quick dry shampoo instead of her usual shower and worked her way over to her full length mirror to assess the situation. The still nude girl’s sleep heavy eyes finally shot open as the reflection staring back to her looked unfamiliar. “When did I get this fat?” she said, quizzically, her grogginess preventing her from expressing the shock the apparent over night change should warrant. Jessica was not blind to the changes her body had gone through since her high school days of running through the woods in a tank top and shorts every afternoon. She knew she had put on a little weight since high school, and that her more leisurely lifestyle of late was not going to do her any favors in the long run, but the figure that stared back at her now, was not one wrapped in a thin layer of feminine softness resulting from inactivity. She was downright chubby. It was her midsection that drew her attention first, her formally flat stomach now protruding out as a slight pot belly. The skin still appeared taught, not big enough to have begun to sag towards her waistline, with a shape that was not dissimilar to that of a woman who was a few months pregnant. Her naturally wide hips had collected some additional padding as well, having developed small, but definitely grabbable handles, and as she ran her hands up her abdomen, she could feel the slightest indication of rolls developing at slightly below the level of her breasts. She grabbed hold of this fluffy excess and moved her hands back, confirming that this new padding was wrapping around to her back, just below her shoulder blades. Back fat. She shuddered at this more than the other developments. Meanwhile Her breasts had taken on some extra weight as well, looking to her as though they may have been a full cup size larger than the modest B’s she had always remembered. She put her arms up in a T pose and spun slowly in the mirror, watching for any jiggling of her forearms. There was a slight bit of movement, her arms were definitely thicker, but much like her belly below them, seemed to be just under the cusp of being problematic. Her butt had predictably grown in both width and depth, a development that Jess had to admit was somewhat welcome, as she had never really had much in the booty department prior, but the chunky thighs that scraped together slightly beneath them quickly took her out of the moment. She lifted a leg slightly. Even her calves looked a little thicker. Another shudder. Finally she leaned close to the mirror, examining her face. Her cheeks definitely seemed puffier, her neck slightly thicker, and most troublingly, she could swear she saw the inkling of a double chin though she resisted the urge to investigate this particular element. Jessica walked to her bathroom, opening the small utility closet within, and pulled out an electronic scale, that she had bought when she moved in, removing it from the box for the first time. Jess never really made a point of watching her weight, but had bought the scale because it had seemed like one of those things every bathroom should have, rather than with any intention of using it, a decision she both lauded and loathed herself for making right now. When she had last weighed herself it had been just after graduation at her parents' house. 145. She quickly placed the enclosed batteries into the unused scale, and stepped onto it. She didn’t really want to look at the number so she closed her eyes and crossed her fingers, praying that the damage wasn’t too severe in the seconds before the simulated voice chirped “180 lbs.” Now it’s important to note that despite the weight seemingly piling on over night, Jessica did not immediately believe that the gain had happened suddenly. Which silly as this might seem, was really the only way of accepting the change logically. After all, it was impossible for someone to gain 35 lbs overnight. She thought about all the reasons why this had happened. She had taken a sedentary job, was eating more processed foods for lunch, was going out to eat a little more, was drinking several nights a week, etc. Surely this was just the inevitable result of a lack of upkeep. She had to have been gaining weight for some time, today simply being the day she passed some sort of threshold where she had finally noticed the changes to her body. She resolved to improve her diet, cut back on the drinking, maybe start packing lunches and definitely join a gym after work. But that would have to come later. For now she still had a job to do, and one she was going to be late for at that. Returning to her outfit, she slipped into her bra and panties, noticing a slight bulge of fat between the uppermost part of her chest and her shoulder joint, pouting for a second before continuing to get dressed. Perhaps because her brain had already made one huge logic leap to explain her weight gain in rational terms, or perhaps because she was simply in too much of a rush to get to work, the fact that her clothes still seemed to fit perfectly despite being purchased a few dozen pounds ago, did not cross Jess’s mind as she grabbed her purse and keys and hurried to catch her bus to work, nor did the huffing and puffing she was doing register as out of place as she power walked towards her stop. Her weight remained at the forefront of her mind as she began her day at work. Over and over again, she reaffirmed her commitment to making some changes, even as she absent mindedly grazed on the snack size bag of potato chips she had instinctively pulled from her desk drawer. She was about midway through the bag when it finally struck her as odd that she was eating the chips, and even more strange that they had been in her desk to begin with, as she was never much of a snacker, and certainly didn’t remember having stashed anything away. She opened the drawer where she had retrieved the mystery bag from again, and was shocked to see the drawer lined not only with several other bags of chips, but several other foods outside her normal dietary habits. Sweet and sour candies, fun size chocolate bars, cheese puffs, those stuffed pretzel thingies, and more. Again she tried her best to make sense of this info, assuring herself that some well meaning member of the leadership team had probably filled everyone’s drawer with goodies as some sort of morale booster, and forgotten to CC her on whatever email had announced it. This didn’t explain how she had apparently known the chips were in there, but it was a good enough explanation for now and certainly made more sense than any alternative. At lunch her brain similarly went into a sort of auto-pilot mode, and despite the fact that only moments before she had entered the cafeteria she had assured herself that she was going to grab a salad and a fruit cup from the buildings cafeteria, when she sat down with Sam and Terri she found herself staring at a lunch tray that contained a buffalo chicken wrap, a bag of funions, a rice krispie treat and a coke, her unconscious mind had apparently been intent on sabotaging her best laid plans for a healthy meal. She was puzzled to say the least, this time her mind failing to find a plausible reason for the change, but considering the cafeteria was more or less just a fridge and some shelves, with a self service kiosk serving as the register, she couldn’t exactly walk back up and return it. She thought about simply not eating, but a growl in her stomach assured her this was not going to be tolerated, so she simply accepted she’d have to suffer through one more unhealthy meal. Looking up from her meal, she finally greeted Sam and Terri, and the three chatted about their day, and the night that preceded it. Jess quickly returned to her internal dialog about the meal switch up as Sam began detailing a particularly awkward dinner date she had been on the night before, with Terri giggling as the details got more juicy. At some point the story ended, and Sam was apparently awaiting a reaction from Jess, who was completely checked out, until Sam waved her hand in front of her face, and called her name. “I have to lose some weight” Jess blurted out with the slightest twinge of desperation. She lowered her voice to just above a whisper “I weighed myself this morning... and I’ve gained 30 lbs since I started working here” Terri and Sam turned to each other with matching looks of bewilderment before turning back to their friend. There was a pause that lasted just long enough to be slightly awkward. From the two women’s expressions, it was obvious they were searching for the right words, the declaration clearly catching them off guard for some reason, beyond it’s suddenness. Terri was the one that finally broke the silence. Placing her hand on top of Jess’, giving it a quick pat before saying simply, “That’s great Jess” Jess continued the one way conversation, ignoring the slight pought from Sam, who was obviously a little annoyed that the conversation had shifted away from her date. Jess began sharing her plans to join the gym after work, to cut back on drinking, and eat more natural food. Maybe she’d try that Keto thing, or the paleo thing, or should she just count calories. Her friends offered supportive nods, though as she spoke their eyebrows would occasionally raise, or they’d cock their heads just slightly to the side as though they were struggling to take this information in. They looked particularly confused when Jess mentioned something about someone putting a bunch of snacks in her desk drawer, but did not say anything. Their apparent confusion was not noticed by Jess, who was in many ways talking to herself more than she was her two friends. Eventually lunch was over, and the three went their separate ways, Terri and Sam going one way and Jess another, the two senior members of their friend circle retreating to the stairwell for an impromptu meeting. The looked at each other for a moment, before Sam broke the silence. “Okay that was weird right?” she asked with Terri quickly agreeing. This was not the Jess that Terri and Sam knew. First off neither felt their friend looked any heavier than she did the day they had met her. She had always been chubby, and more to the point she had seemingly been completely okay with it. She would unabashedly be seen snacking throughout the day, and in fact had made a point to mention her “stash” of snacks at team meetings over the preceding few months, always welcoming her colleagues to stop by if they ever needed a sugar fix. Grant it she had never expressed any sort of satisfaction with her size either. She wasn’t the “real women have curves” type, but she didn’t seem like the dieting type either. They were more taken aback by her mentioning it at all really. She had seemed naively oblivious to it before, which made her sudden development of a rather detailed plan to drop weight overnight seem all the more out of character. But slight delusions aside, they didn’t immediately see any harm in their full figured friends plan to drop some weight, but agreed they should keep an eye on her to make sure this didn’t turn into some sort of weird eating disorder. Terri suggested that if she did in fact join a gym it might be a good idea for them to go with her. Sam happily agreed, though she buried the affirmation behind a joke about meeting men, and with that the two returned to their desk. Jess meanwhile had retreated to the bathroom, tearing up a bit as she caught her profile in the mirror before moving to a stall to attempt to gather herself. The lunch with her friends had added a new level of perspective to the situation, as she compared her new found softness to her still svete friends, friends that up until recently she had always seen as her equals in terms of figure. It was a passing thought of size comparison that gave Jess the first inkling that there was something up with her weight beyond simply absent mindedly letting herself go for a few months. She was so obsessed with how to drop the weight all morning, that she hadn’t really had time to think about it logically until now. Among the three’s many similarities was a mutual love of retail therapy, and the fact that they all wore the same size clothing only served as a catalyst for their shared hobby of shopping, as they could justify each purchase by reassuring themselves that if they got sick of the garment, one of the other three, would certainly get some use out of it. Jess tried to remember the last time she had borrowed something from the other, and within a few seconds clearly recalled borrowing a green button up from Sam for a dinner date only a week ago. Maybe a lack of self awareness could explain her not noticing the weight gain, but it didn’t explain how her friends shirt would have fit perfectly less than a week ago, Sam wasn’t exactly a modest dresser in terms of fit, and if Jess had truly been several dozen pounds heavier than her friend less than a week ago, there is no way that that shirt would have went on without an embarrassing amount of fluff being on display . Her mind then quickly shifted to her own clothes, finally realizing how impossible it should be that they would fit. She removed her blazer to check the size. Jess had bought this particular jacket for her interview, and if that was the case, it should be a size 5, but as her eyes locked on the tag, she instead saw an “12” She hurriedly slipped the blazer back on, then pulled out her phone, she opened up her photo gallery and began flipping frantically through her pictures, expecting to see a slow decrease in weight, as the months rolled back, but instead she kept seeing the same chubby girl. Finally she opened up her Facebook profile, remembering that she had posted a selfie shortly before she had gone for her interview for her job. Sure enough, there she was all 180 lbs of her. Jess didn’t know what to do. Was she crazy? Had she been this big all along? Did she have some weird form of dysmorphia that suddenly decided to turn itself off? Nothing made sense, but as she realized she had been sitting in the bathroom stall for a solid ten minutes, she could do little else but take several deep breaths, and try to continue her day as normal. She returned to her desk and tried to have as regular a day as possible, though it would be a stretch to call it productive. She found herself trying to meet the gaze of everyone that passed her desk, hoping, praying that someone would shoot her a weird look, that someone would see her newly expanded form as abnormal, but receiving only friendly nods, smiles, and waves. Her day ended and Jess, decided that whatever was going on with her weight, the end result was the same, she was fat, and needed to do something about it. So she still planned on joining a gym. There was a large fitness club near her office, which she began to walk to, this time noticing that the brisk pace of her walk seemed to leave her more out of breath than it should. As she approached the club, the uncreatively named Chicago Fitness, she saw a familiar figure exiting the building, and shuddered with horror as the figure locked eyes with her, grinned, and began walking towards her. The figure was one of Jess’s friends from high school, Brittani. Though, friends might not have been the best word. They had in fact been the very definition of Frenemies, on again off again rivals on their cross country team, and in academics. They never really cared about being number one at anything, but did fiercely compete to beat the other, though through it all they had never had any real sort of conflict. They did tend to bring out the worst in each other, and their conversations were often filled with jabs and barbs uncharacteristic of either girl outside of their interactions with the other. Throughout their rivalry there had never really been a clear winner and as the two lost touch almost immediately after graduation, it didn’t seem like there ever would be, but now as Jess took Brittani in, she began to feel like she had definitely lost. While Jess, had drifted away from athletics to focus on career, Britani seemed to have dove headlong into a commitment to fitness. Her formally slender frame had filled out in a completely different way, with a noticeable six pack glistening with sweat beneath her crop top, her biceps bordering on the intimidating, with thighs and glutes that would be the envy of any fitness model. “Oh my god Jess, it’s great to see you!” she said with a glow that matched her tan physique, wrapping her arms around Jess for a hug before the girl could offer a reply. As she squeezed the contrast between the two bodies was even more obvious, as Jess felt her doughy middle push up against the rock hard abdominals of her former rival. She let go, and the two exchanged a few more pleasantries before Brit finally asked her what she was doing there. Jess shrugged, not wanting to seem too desperate, but already dreading the silver tongued reply that she was sure awaited her “Oh just trying to drop a few pounds I guess” “That’s amazing girl, I’m so proud of you for finally making a change” Brit said, with a look of seemingly genuine compassion. Jess was slightly taken aback by this. The way Brittani said that, it was as though Jess’s weight had been a problem for a while. Which grant it, the evidence seemed to suggest that it was a problem for much longer than Jess had initially thought, but Jess hadn’t seen Brittani in years, her last recollection should be of Jess in high school, when she was still very much in shape. She wondered if maybe, just maybe Brittani, was just being a bitch, and that she was implying Jess had always been fat just to get another dig in, but something about her face told Jess that whatever bit of spite for her that had been in Brit’s heart had long since faded, so she could think of nothing to say but “Thank you” half listening as Brittani said something about teaching a free weights class a couple nights a week, before jogging away into the autumn evening. Jess stood their in a daze, half embarrassed, half confused. Without thinking she started walking away from the Fitness club, and not becoming fully self-aware again until she found herself sitting in the booth of the pizza joint across the street from her apartment, munching on a slice of deep dish pizza, the empty pan in front of her suggesting the rest of the pie was already inside her. Her other hand to her disgust, was rubbing her swollen stomach over her shirt. She shuddered, but finished her final piece, and went to the counter to pay her bill confirming her suspicions that the entirety of a large pizza was now digesting within her stomach. Ashamed, she walked back to her apartment. She went to her room, threw her clothes into the hamper, and pulled the baggiest pajamas she could find from her drawer. She looked at the rest of her work clothes as she threw them into the hamper. Sure enough, her shirt and pants seemed to have magically increased in size, as did her panties. Her bra had gone from a 32B to a 36C, which she had to admit she wasn’t all that upset about, but it was hard to stay focused on that. Settling on the couch, she flipped the TV on, finding some forensic crime show as per usual, and despite the unneeded calories, decided she could use a drink. Or Two. Or the bottle. She went to the kitchen, and opened her fridge, where she was greeted with yet another shock. Not having time for breakfast that morning, this was the first time since she noticed her weight gain that Jess had had been in her kitchen, and with her different body, apparently had come different eating habits. The almond milk replaced with whole, the ground turkey she was saving for Friday replaced by beef, greek yogurts replaced by some fancy looking pudding. She opened the freezer, to find more of the same. An assortment of frozen foods begging to be fried, and several pints of ben & jerry’s replacing her diet friendly ice creams and steamable vegetables that she had remembered buying just a day prior. At this point, she couldn’t do much beyond shake her head in dismay. Whatever was going on, whoever she had apparently been the past few months, this “other Jess” as she decided to call her, still apparently liked moscato, and that was enough for now. She grabbed the bottle of wine. Opened it up, and took it, along with a glass into the living room. An hour or so later she drunkenly stumbled back to the freezer, pulling down one of those ice cream pints her other self was nice enough to supply, and devouring it within a few short minutes. She found her way to the bedroom, stuffed beyond belief, again rubbing her stomach, deliberately this time, as she hoped it would relieve her overwhelming sense of fullness. She smiled, noticing that the sensation of being this full felt kind of nice, a thought she hoped was just the wine talking, before she had drifted to sleep before she could give it any further thought. Jess awoke the next day, hoping that maybe, just maybe she had just had some bizarre dream, but one look in her full length confirmed this was not the case. In fact, she could have sworn she seemed a pound or two heavier, though she had no intention of stepping on the scale to assess the damage, and from there her day went on almost exactly like the first. She again found herself munching on snacks from her drawer, bought a less than healthy lunch despite assuring herself she wouldn’t, and now found herself snacking on a Snickers bar in the cafeteria on her afternoon break. She again told herself she was going to go to the gym, but conveniently reminded herself she hadn’t brought any suitable clothes, so went straight home instead. The rest of the week continued much the same way. Absent minded snacking, during the day, a convenient excuse to avoid the gym in the afternoon, finding herself in some neighborhood comfort food supplier for dinner, home for ice cream and one too many glasses of wine, sleep, repeat. She went out with Sam and Terri only once that week. Terri suggesting they try a micropub for a change, thinking the quieter atmosphere might do Jess some good, but as nice as her friends were, Jess found herself extremely jealous of their still slender frames, and this in turn fed the feelings of self loathing she had developed over the course of the week. The end result was a bar tab excessive in both food and drink, and Terri and Sam walking their friend's home, tucking her into bed, and sitting there for a moment, worried she may get sick. Jess did not get sick, but in her drunken stupor, she began muttering something about “the other jess” which concerned her two friends, though they couldn’t really make heads or tails of what exactly she meant, and after they convinced themselves the girl wasn’t at risk of throwing up, they left, reaffirming their commitment to helping their friend before going their separate ways. “The Other Jess” was a concept that had quickly increased in prominence in Jess’s mind since it’s initial mention, usually like that first monday, after the third or fourth glass of wine. While she was sober Jess was still desperately clinging to logic bound explanations to explain both the self sabotage of her diet plans and the discrepancies between the life she remembered the and the life she had apparently been living At night on the other hand alcohol seemed to open her mind up to the possibility that her new size and the food bases transgressions that had come in its wake were in fact the result of her mind was now sharing the life and body of some alternate version of herself. She would freely blame Other Jess for the events of the day, often pointing out to herself that if this was how “Other Jess” lived it was no wonder she had packed on the pounds, though in her drunken state she seemed far less concerned with doing anything about it, besides rubbing her taut midsection and drifting off to sleep. While dreaming, or on occasions where her mind was free to wander, Jess would have flashes of memories she did not remember experiences. Trips to buffets, lazy nights in bed with a Halloween sized bag of chocolates, afternoons lazing on the sofa. Most of the time she would brush these off as hunger induced hallucinations, but other times she wondered if perhaps there was something more to them, if perhaps they weren’t glimpses into the Other Jess’s life. They would certainly explain her interdimensional counterparts plump form. Sometime on Friday, Sam had asked her if she had joined the gym yet, to which Jess sheepishly admitted she had not. Sam, sensing what she thought was simple anxiety or maybe embarrassment in her friend offered to go with her after work Monday. Jess hoped this would be the extra kick in the butt she needed to stop the excuses and delusions about multiple Jess’s or alternate realities or whatever she found herself babbling about at night, and perhaps it would have been, if that particular version of next Monday had ever come to pass, but unfortunately for Jess, it would not. Jess awoke that monday, once again with an unfamiliar feeling, but one far more obvious than the slight sense of grogginess of the week before. As Jess heard the familiar sound of her alarm and attempted to roll towards it, she was immediately struck with the sense that something was very, very wrong. Every new movement felt unnecessarily cumbersome, and this sensation was quickly followed by the distinct sense that there was more of her, than there should be. Her hand shook as she reached for her phone to silence the alarm. Though her body would have been clearly visible in the morning light, she made a semi-conscious decision to not look down at herself as she lay in bed. Instead she wrapped her topsheet around herself, stood up, and began shuffling towards the mirror, unfamiliar things jiggling as she moved towards a reflection that would only confirm her worst fears. Her hands rose to cover her mouth in shock, a shock that was exasperated as the sheet she had been holding dropped to the ground. Her face drew her attention first, more than likely because it had been mostly spared from change the last time. Her once enviable cheek bones were now completely hidden behind, inflated cheeks that sported a new pinkish hue. Her slender neck was starting to be swallowed by a now prodigious double chin, and a doughier pair of shoulders, though the neck itself, what little remained, had also thickened. Even her lips seemed a bit fuller. She raised an arm to touch her altered visage, and was overcome with another wave of shock as her formerly delicate hands were now softened by their own layer of adipose, pudgy palms connecting to plump fingers, and she was struck by the pillowiness of her swollen digits as the hand met her chubby cheek. As the arm raised she noticed a jiggling in the mirror, and pulled back almost as soon as she had touched her face, attention turning to her upper arms which she immediately thought must have been as thick as her thighs had been the night before. The fat drooped down over her elbow, onto equally bloated forearms, and she felt an especially potent wave of dread when she noticed the slight crevice where her forearm met her wrist. Her hands raised once more she brought them to rest on her heaving bosom, which still quivered with each shallow breath, a result either her shock in her exasperation, the walk to the mirror, or more likely both. Her breasts were enormous, at least comparatively speaking, and she reckoned her cup size had to be approaching the middle of the alphabet. She pushed them together with her arms, creating a respectable spread of cleavage, and momentarily she felt a sense of pride, though it was quickly replaced when she remembered the roll of fat that connected her breasts to the back fat on her shoulder blades, and to her dismay this newish addition had greatly expanded. She lifted each breast up, feeling the heft of them, noticing that her nipples and areola had grown at a rate that seemed to just slightly outpace the breast in terms of proportion, and with a pout she released them, allowing them to smack against the new roll that lay atop what she could only describe as a gut. Her belly was no longer at risk of being mistaken for a mid-term pregnancy, it stuck out several inches in front of her. She slid her hands down the sizable bulk. Besides the small roll beneath her breasts, it was one solid mass, coming to rest over her pubic mound. Her hands moved off to the size and grabbed a hold of her meaty love handles , which as she moved her hands back she found connected to her now mountainous buttocks. She turned around quickly catching a glimpse of her shelf like rear, which was covered in dimples. Again she felt the slightest sense of pride in the shapeliness of it, and even gave it a quick shake, though she could help but notice a generous supply of back fat jiggling in tandem with her butt. Turning back around her eyes were next drawn to her thighs which had at least doubled in mass, their size exaggerated somewhat by Jess’s wide hips, each seemingly trying to overtake the other as they were smashed together, and Jess shuddered as she thought back to her short trek to the mirror, and how in retrospect her walk seemed more like a waddle. The thighs mimicked the shape of her arms, her fat overtaking her knees a bit before tapering slightly to thick calves. She lifted a foot up a bit, seeing that much like her hands, they too were now sporting a layer of softness. She had developed thick cankles, which were threatening to sag towards the floor if they swelled much more. Lowering her foot, Jess stood blankly into the mirror. Her mind went blank for a moment as her two existences seemed to blur. When she came to she found herself still in front of the mirror, though in a much more compromising position. One hand was gently caressing her left nipple, the palm of the other softly massaging her pubic mound, which itself had become enlarged with added adipose. The “other Jess” had evidently found something about her new size appealing, but as the two sides of the girl separated, regular Jess pulled both hands away from her erogenous zones and shook her head side to side, as though she had just awoken from a bad dream. Jess turned away from the mirror, and began walking towards her closet and dresser, and was perhaps less surprised than she should have been to find all of her clothes had somehow grown along with her. Her drunken musings on some other version of herself who’s life had become intertwined with her own, no longer seemed like an outlandish idea or some subconscious coping mechanism to explain a lack of self control, in the brief waddle from mirror to dresser Jess had come to believe this to be truth, and she decided to try to find some proof of this phenomenon, though she wasn’t sure what. She slipped into her now enormous panties and bra, then again turned to her closet. She was impressed by the sheer volume of flattering plus size garments that hung from the rack, but decided to slip into a pink sweatsuit with black highlights. The irony of wearing athletic gear at her size was not lost on her, but it looked comfortable, and slightly roomy. “I’m having a fat day” she said to herself, but was not quite able to laugh at her own joke. She sat on her bed for a moment pondering what to do next, or what to do to try to find some sort of evidence that her life was not the one she remembered, now convinced that the flashes of alleged memory were a sign of some deeper mystery. The idea of some other self invading her life lost whatever remaining trappings of a joke it had once had, and though her mind was doing it’s best to try to take the phenomenon in stride for the sake of her sanity, Jess felt an overwhelming sense of violation as the cosmos rearranged her existence. After some thought about how to best test her theory, she decided that the best course of action would be to return to her parent’s home. If there was anyone who would notice that she had gained almost 200 lbs in a little under a month it would be her parents, particularly her well meaning but not overly tactful mother. This trip would necessitate calling off to work, so she began dialing her bosses number. He picked up, and Jess quickly explained that she had eaten some bad sushi and wouldn’t be in that day. This was the first time Jess had spoken aloud in a tone louder than a whisper, and she couldn’t help but notice that her once high voice seemed a little deeper and breathier. Her boss, wished her well, and with work taken care of, Jess began her trek to the bus stop. She was out of breath before she even left the lobby, and was already starting to regret her choice of outfit. The sweat suit was living up to its name, though she did find some relief once the cool midwestern breeze hit her. She had soon stuffed herself into a bus seat, embarrassed to find she was now taking up enough of the two person seat to prevent another passenger from using it. She was glad to be off the bus when she arrived at her parents neighborhood, though she lamented the fact that she would still have to walk a few blocks before reaching the house. She knocked on the door, and took a few deep breaths trying to regain her composure so that it was not apparent to whoever opened the door that the short burst of exertion had winded her. Her mother soon appeared at the door, and upon recognizing her daughter and smiled. “Jess! It’s so good to see you!” she beamed before reaching out and hugging as much of her daughter as her arms would allow. The two exchanged a few pleasantries before moving the conversation inside. With the momentary break in conversation Jess accepted the fact that her mother, like her co-workers before her, seemed blissfully unaware of any change in Jess’s size. Her mother soon asked what she was doing here on a Monday, and if everything was okay, and Jess quickly reassured her that everything was fine, that she was just taking a mental health day, and would like to look through some things in her old room. Her mother smiled again, and told her she would fix some lunch while she went through the room and ran off to the kitchen with the same bounciness Jess had always remembered her for. Jess entered her Teenage bedroom to find it at first glance to be almost identical to how she left it. The first thing she noticed that was off, was that there was no trophy case. Previously there was a repurposed china cabinet along the right side of the wall which had been stuffed with trophies and ribbons from Jess’s cross country days. Instead there was a small shelf with only 3 trophies and a picture frame. Jess waddled over to the shelf, the 3 trophies were all from her seventh grade year, the first year she had competed. It was a little strange that her parents would keep these up but none of her latter, far greater achievements, this thought was fleeting though as she was far more disturbed by the photo. In it, a young Jess was sitting on a stretcher, about to be loaded into an ambulance. She was smiling though, and was surrounded by her teammates, and her coaches. Brittani was beside her, holding her hand. Her left leg was covered by a blanket. There was a banner visible near the top of the picture, it read “Go Sparans” Jess was taken aback. She remembered this meet, it was one of the bigger meets of the year and the school had ordered a new banner to hang in support, but hadn’t noticed that the printing company had forgotten the “T” in Spartans until it was already hanging up. They had decided the kids wouldn’t notice. They were wrong. Jess remembered the banner becoming a running joke for years after, and more importantly she had won that meet, and certainly hadn’t hurt her leg. She sat down on her bed and put her face into her hands, closing her eyes and trying to think. Suddenly a new memory invaded her mind. A different series of events. Tripping on a branch that had fallen across the trail. Pain, she couldn’t move her leg. Paramedics carrying her from the woods. A bad break. No running for the rest of the season. She looked up, shaking her head again. No. That was wrong, that’s not how things happened. She reached under the bed where she knew there would be a shoebox filled with photos. She had gotten a digital camera in eight grade, and had taken an embarrassing amount of pictures of her and her friends throughout the remainder of her schooling. She flipped through the pictures. She noticed two things. First in the earliest photos she was quite a bit chubbier than she should have been getting increasingly heavy as the pictures progressed. Second, there were absolutely no photos of her meets, no selfies in her uniform, no team photos, nothing. Her athleticism, once a huge part of her life, had seemingly been erased. But why? Another flood of memory. Break was worse than they thought, extended bed rest. An overly sympathetic mother, tons of snacks. Food brought comfort. Soon her clothes didn’t fit. No tryouts next year or the year after, or the year after that…. Jess seemed to have her proof, she had stumbled upon the point of divergence between the life she remembered and the life that was quickly overtaking it. She laughed in disbelief. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting to be the root of all this, but it certainly wasn’t an out of place tree branch that decided to insert itself into her past. As she reflected on the absurdity of her situation more new memories flooded her brain, finding comfort in food as she recovered, and seeking that same satisfaction long after her leg had healed. Her interest in athletics waned as the years went on, at the beginning of her sophomore year, she had stopped insisting that she was “going to get into shape for tryouts.” Her weight continued to balloon as her teen years wore on, and became even worse when she entered college and was no longer restricted by her parent’s meal plans. Her mother entered the doorway, giving the overwhelmed Jess a concerned look before announcing that lunch was ready. Jess got up, thanking her mother, and walked to the kitchen. She was amazed by the spread laid out on the kitchen table, there were half a dozen well stuffed sandwiches, bags of chips and pretzels, various dips, and a tray of homemade cookies. Her mother had always loved cooking, but Jess never remembered the meals being quite so generous. Or more accurately, she didn’t remember this before today. Now it was all coming back to her. Her mother’s shift in behavior after the leg break. She didn’t understand it when she was young, but now she realized that mer mother had taken her injury relatively hard, and had begun cooking for her as a means of reducing her misplaced guilt and sense of helplessness. If she could make a few cupcakes and see the incapacitated teen smile for a bit she would do it. Like Jess the satisfaction she felt did not end at her recovery, and thus the elder Mrs. Foster had become younger Jess’ main enabler. Jess could now recall massive meals and numerous snacks being a staple of her later teen years. While she was provided with this convenient bit of memory and psychoanalysis, Jess was already well into her second sandwich and after a while, the table was barren of food. Jess brushed a bit of cookie crumb from her second chin, and immediately felt shame in the sheer amount of food she had just consumed. She thanked her mother, and in a flustered blur decided to head back to her apartment. Jess sat in her living room staring absentmindedly at her TV. She had been overwhelmed with information all day, her life had been completely changed, and her poor brain had finally needed a few hours to try to come to terms with this new reality. About 6 o’clock she was awoken from her daze by her cell phone. It was Terri, checking in to see how Jess was feeling. Jess didn’t even really answer the question, she just blurted out “can you come over?” Terri paused for a moment, before saying “of course” in her usual reassuringly calm tone. Jess could hear Sam yell something about coming over too. Jess was glad to be having company. She quickly took a shower, trying not to focus on the many new bits and folds that required washing and changed into some PJs. She decided to order food for her new friends, and in that moment, as though summoned by the promise of dinner, The Other Jess again seemed to squeeze into the driver’s seat. She called a local chinese restaurant, ordering what she knew were Terri and Sam’s respective favorite entrees, and then ordering another, and another, and another, and some wontons, and egg rolls, and soup, and when the heavily accented voice informed her that her total would be $84.56 the other Jess calmly thanked her, as this was completely normal for one of her chinese binges. Original Jess took back over about the time she had to fetch the cash from her purse. She was ashamed at the amount of food she had purchased, and knowing her friends would soon be arriving she began to lay everything out on her coffee table in a sort of pseudo-buffett, so at least it would look like 70% of the food had been ordered for her and her alone. Terri and Sam arrived soon after, and though Jess was far from surprised, she was still a little disappointed that neither of her friends seemed to notice anything different about her. The trio enjoyed a night in, Sam had insisted it was her turn to pick the entertainment, which meant a night of trashy horror films. They laughed, they ate, with Jess continuing the graze long after the other two were full beyond capacity. Eventually they said their goodbyes, and Jess retired to her bed. As she began to drift off to sleep she once again found her hands gently rubbing her tight stomach, attempting to ease the process of digestion but there was also a bit of sensuality to her caress, something she would have liked to have shuddered at, but it felt too good for her to care. So much like before Jess tried to settle into her new life. She still went to work, still hung out with her friends, the only real difference was the massive quantities of food she consumed. Her fridge filled to the brim with junk, delivery orders that approached the triple digits, and snacks galore. Jess had given up on any illusions of shedding the weight, or maybe in their slow merging the other jess had simply eaten away at that part of her personality, replacing it with her own sense of gluttony. Chapter 3 Except for somber moments of reflection here and there, Jess had grown somewhat accustomed to her new body, and her new position as the token fat friend among her friendship triangle. While she did feel a tingle of lingering resentment at the fact that she no longer received quite the same amount of attention as her still svete cohorts, there was a sort of relief in the fact that she could now spend her evenings simply relaxing, and munching on an appetizer platter while her friends took the brunt of the bar creeps. Indeed the changes to her life were minimal at best. The only real difference is that there were very few moments where she was without a snack in hand. Food was always there to break up the tedium of her white collar 9-5 life, and as it became a constant companion it also became a panacea for every minor stressor and irritation, which in turn lulled even the “old Jess” into a state of acceptance. This led to more guiltless gorging, which would undoubtedly have led to a slow but steady increase in weight, had the powers that be been content to let nature take its course. They were not. This time, there was no delay in Jess’s awareness that there was something very, very different about her physique. She awoke one with an overwhelming feeling of heaviness, which she initially attributed to grogginess, but as she tried to shift herself toward the end of the bed, she noticed just how much more of her there was. She looked down and saw, well not much. Her view was mostly obscured by her massive gut and mammaries. Needing to see just how extensive the damage was she resumed the laborious process of moving her bulk to the side of the bed, jiggling and shaking as she tried desperately to find some sense of equilibrium. She finally got her feet to the floor and was seated upright, feeling a small sense of accomplishment that was quickly pushed out in favor of renewed horror as she found herself struggling to lift herself up. When she finally did stand, and began walking toward the mirror, a mirror that she could already notice seemed to have grown in dimension as well. She gulped at that realization then again as she realized how much her gait had devolved into a waddle. After what seemed like an eternity she was able to see herself in full. Her gaze first went to her feet, which were now far puffier than they had ever been, with a layer of fat adding diameter to each digit. The feet were beginning to be overwhelmed by a greatly engorged lower leg, a deep crevice separating foot from leg. With a good deal of effort Jess turned her foot slightly and could see the cankle sagging over her achilles tendon and threatening to brush against the floor. Her knees were completely encased in fat that dropped down from her now tree trunk sized thighs. The true enormousness of said thighs was initially hard to grasp as her belly apron had descended as it grew and stopped just an inch or so short of the knees. It was only after she buried her arms beneath her gut and lifted it as much as she could that she truly saw how big her legs had gotten, and for a brief moment was able to spot her equally enormous pubic mound. Her massive love handles merged with the shelf that had become her butt. She turned in the mirror to see it in all it’s dimpled vastness. Her rear stuck out a solid 4 inches from her back, or more accurately the saddlebags and rolls and covered her back, and had also become a victim to gravity as the lower portions of each cheek also seemed intent on covering as much of each thigh as they could. She turned back around and attempted to wrap her arms around her belly, which she quickly realized was an impossibility. Instead she turned her attention to what had once been the small roll beneath her breasts, the roll had developed to the point that it now resembled a second pair of breasts, two wings of fat that met in the middle, each sagging about a ¼ of the way down her gut. She hefted each boob, trying to take a guess at their size, but having not the slightest clue, though she was sure her dresser drawers would eventually provide the answer. She was somewhat amazed at how shapely her bust remained, though she was less enthralled with the side boobs rolls, that wrapped around to meet her back fat, which had become so bloated that she had to keep her arms at the slightest of angles for comfort. Her arms mirrored her legs in their dimensions her great doughy upper arms cascading over her enveloped elbow, forearms ending in a crevice leading to chubby cherub like hands with pudgy palms and fingers that were beginning to resemble sausaged. She raised her hands to touch her face, a visage she hardly recognized now. Her double chin now reached all the way past her neck, or where her neck should have been had it not been completely buried by the aforementioned chin and the padding of her upper chest and shoulders, save for a roll of fat in the back of her neck, which once she noticed she would be glad remained covered by her hair. Her now permanently rosey cheeks had billowed out considerably and she was sure that were she to smile they would slightly obscure her vision. She even swore that her lips were slightly plumper. Unable to simply swallow her dread and move on with her morning routine as she had in the past, Jess instead began moving back towards her bed. She noticed that the bed itself seemed to have undergone a transformation, the queen mattress was now a king, but more troubling was the fact that the cheap wooden department store bed frame had become reinforced steel frame, and a memory as they were so prone to do these days, came flooding back to Jess, of the installation team’s assurance that the frame would hold up to 3,500 lbs and more disturbingly at her memory selves thought that this would provide plenty of “room to grow.” Her curiosity overwhelming her disgust, Jess began waddling about the rest of the apartment, curious of the other changes that may have taken place. She wandered into the bathroom first, which had undergone a rather dramatic change. The walk in shower had almost tripled in size, the porcelain replaced by stone, littered with an overabundance of in-wall showerheads and an equally large hand held deal. Next to the shower was an equally oversized Jacuzzi tub. The whole bathroom would be more at home in one of those home flipping shows with million dollar budgets than a single woman’s apartment, but even as the sense of overkill slipped into her brain, her inner monologue reminded her that the set up was necessary to keep her massive girth clean. She noticed an industrial looking scale next to an expansive toilet that she was sure had also been installed to deal with her mega sized form, and she figured that she may as well get this over with. With some difficulty, she bent over and pulled the scale out and stepped forward onto it. As soon as she started to wonder how she was going to read it with her belly in the way, a computerized voice chirped out the number six hundred and eighty five. Jess simply stepped off the scale and resumed her wanderings, the number both shocking, and completely expected. Jess made her way back into the bedroom, she decided to look through her drawers and closets, knowing full well that a size appropriate wardrobe would be awaiting her, but wondering if anything would be awaiting her but an assortment of muumuus. Shockingly, there was quite a wide selection of fashionable clothes, though many of the brands unrecognizable, at least until recollections of online orders from specialty realtors came back to her. Tired of wandering around naked she grabbed panties, bra, jeans and a t-shirt, all of them so large she had to shake her head in disbelief. After a lot of jiggling and shuffling, she managed to dress herself, even finding some sort of telescoping shoe horn that aided her in pulling a pair of ankle socks and flats over her pudgy feet. Now feeling somewhat decent Jess resumed the tour of her home. Her living room was much more spacious that she remembered, and she couldn’t help but notice there now appeared to be a small home office in one corner, with a comically large, and very obviously reinforced swivel chair. This puzzled Jess for a moment until she remembered with a shudder that she had been working from home for the past month or so. The small walks to the lunch room and to the fax machine were taking a toll on the ever expanding girl, and her boss had presented her with the option after witnessing a particularly intense scene of huffing and puffing. She was sure he was worried about a potential lawsuit if she passed out from exhaustion. She resented the thought as she recalled it, but remembered her other self eagerly accepting the offer, knowing this would put her in closer proximity to her food at all times. On that note, she wandered over to her fridge, which was also much larger than she remembered. She opened it and was greeted with a mind blowing amount of food, the freezer similarly well stocked. She went to shut the refrigerator, but her stomach gurgled in protest, and with this The Other Jess took over, pulled a box of toaster strudel out of the freezer, loaded her ten slice toaster with the pastries, and before long found herself on the sofa (now a luxurious sectional) one hand blissfully pushing her gooey treats into her waiting mouth, the other massaging her massive belly as it was slowly filled with sweets. The other Jess loosened her grip as her hunger subsided for a moment, and our Jess again began quizzically reviewing her circumstances. It was only now, as she looked at a TV that seemed about 4 sizes bigger than she remembered, thought about the bathroom, the assortment of commercial kitchen sized appliances, the absurd amount of food that her mind assured her was only meant to last the week, and the increased square footage of the place, and wondered how exactly she was affording all this on her salary. Her mind was quick to fill in that blank. In this again altered reality, Jess had still had her cross country accident, but her parents had decided to sue, and were awarded a sizable settlement, which Jess’s father had made a few wise investments with, and the family was now very, very, VERY well off. With the financial security this afforded them, both of her parents were able to dote on their daughter more, spoiling the girl with whatever she wanted, which was usually food. While this version of Jess had undoubtedly wanted for nothing and this explained her bountiful physique. Still this even newer version of Jess was no rich brat, and her kind personality remained unchanged through the years. This is why despite the fact that she was in a position where she would never have to work a day in her life, she still went to college, and still wanted to work. Her degree and job were no longer necessary building blocks for a successful life, but rather goals that Jess had set to show that she could be independent, even if she didn’t have to be. Jess sat there, taking all of herself in, running her hands along her body, feeling the different rolls that only presented themselves while she was sitting, her emotions that contradictory yet now familiar feeling of revulsion mixed with loving admiration, shame and confidence. After a few minutes, she decided she may as well get some work done, and made her way over to her desk. And so her day continued, not too different from the way it had been in the office. She still took phone calls, filled out forms, replied to various emails. The only real difference being the TV in the background and the fact that her “snack breaks” now consisted of full course freezer meals and at two calls to takeout restaurants. The only real surprise coming near the end of what could be called her shift, when there was a knock on the door. Before Jess could shift her bulk to begin to move she heard a set of keys jingling and the door opening. She spun around in her chair to see Sam and Terri. She was somewhat surprised to see them. She had half-wondered earlier in the day if she even still knew them, considering her short tenure at the office, but the thought was not well developed enough for her subconscious to provide her with the answer. Now she remembered that much like it had always been the three had hit it off immediately, and the two made almost daily visits to her apartment both to hang out, and to pick up any outgoing mail Jess had, as her over protective manager had expressed some concern about her walking to the nearest mailbox. She was more shocked to see a slight but noticeable paunch on both of her friends, which puzzled her until about 20 minutes into her visit when she saw just how many goodies the two had grabbed from the fridge, and she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her friends plumping up under her influence. After sometime the two left, and Jess resumed her evening, cooking a huge dinner of pork loin, macaroni and cheese and broccoli (which, rest assured was also covered in generous portion of cheese). The main meal complimented by a barrage of buttered dinner rolls, and several handfuls of various snacks that had made their way into the living room during the day. Dessert was a full frozen cheesecake. Finally stuffed Jess lay satiated on the sofa for a while, watched some TV and then made her way to bed. Her fullness turned her on, and the final revelation of that evening, that she could no longer reach her vagina without assistance, came without the intervention from her subconscious mind, though it did let her know that the solution to this particular problem could be found in her bedside table. So, much like before Jess began to settle into her new life. She questioned her other self less, simply accepting her new fate, and trying to enjoy it as much as she could, which to be honest was not as difficult as she may have wished it would have been, and she could no longer be sure how much of i was her otherselfs influence, and how much was because this life of gorging and growing just felt good. She was amazed at just how normal her life still managed to be. She was a little phased by her more limited mobility, but strangely, the more she seemed to think about it, the less of an issue it became, and the more she was able to do. She wasn’t losing weight, that was for sure, quite the opposite in fact, but within a few weeks of her transformation she found herself able to get around quite well, and was even able to make her way to the mall, where she quickly realized there was nothing in her size even in the designated “big girl” stores but there was a Panda Express in the food court so she still chalked up the day as a win. Perhaps if her life hadn’t already taken such a bizarre turn, she may have questioned why the universe seemed so willing to seemingly re-write the rules of anatomy and physics to allow her supersized body to get around with such ease but this was far from her top concern. But as it had twice before her concern for her entire situation slipped away as the days wore on, even if the change had been more drastic this time. But this time the line between old and new Jess seemed to blur, as even in those moments when her original self was clearly in control, she found herself sincerely enjoying this new life of relaxation and gluttony, and in fact beginning to enjoy her own body. She began to revel in the sensation of filling herself to her bursting point, rubbing her immense gut she digested as her latest binge. There was a synthesis occurring between her two selves, and so when Jess found herself staring in the mirror some time later, her body once again having undergone a transformation she did not greet her altered form with shock or despair, but instead felt a warmth between her thighs. She grabbed a massive breast in her sausage like fingers, and seductively bit her lip. She could not believe how good she looked. In general shape, not much had changed, her various rolls had greatly expanded in size, her belly now hung well below her knees, and stuck out several feet in front of her, so much so that she could still manage to see it past her absurdly large bust. When at their sides her arms stuck out at an angle and as she lifted her feet, which were almost obscured by the rolls of her calves, she could feel her cankles brush against the carpet. A smile spread across her face, moved closer to the mirror, taking in the beauty of her fattened face, cheeks pushing her lips into a slight purse, double chin no longer entirely obscuring her thickened neck which had begun fighting for its own space. She knew the routine at this point, and preemptively began asking herself questions about what had changed in her history this time. But this time it wasn’t much. The only real difference between her 600 lb transformation and her new self was the portion sizes. Instead of life altering events she remembered only more trips to various buffets, family dinners with fourth portions instead of seconds, etc. She eventually made her way to the scale to see just how much she had grown. She beamed when she heard the computerized voice chirp out the number “900.” A number her memory assured her she had been striving to reach for some time. She decided to skip the shower and picking out an outfit for the time being and made her way to the kitchen, for a celebratory breakfast. She slipped into a robe that was hanging on the bathroom door and made her way to the kitchen, giving no real thought to the fact that at her size she should be bed bound, and not waddling briskly with a slight pep in her pudgy step. She was just about to open her fridge and begin her breakfast binge when there was a knock at her door….
  9. ***Disclaimer*** I've written a few stories before but never had the brass to post them but I'm trying new things, trying to be open minded, and open to constructive criticism (or praise!). All characters are fictional. This is a story about a couple of bigger women with poor body image thinking they need to change for a man, or society, and have help from state-of-the-art technology. But the journey is just beginning, and much bigger things are ahead...This is the first part in a multi-part series. Enjoy!*** --Before the Date-- Emma’s heart was furiously beating out of her chest. She looked around the pile of clothes stacked on her bed in a New York City apartment at the clock that read 7:54pm. She had six minutes to find something to wear and make it the coffee shop to meet Eric for their date. The though crossed her mind to cancel. It was only a tinder match, after all. Could true love really be found through a superficial app? She sat down on the bed next to her mound of clothes and breathed a heavy sigh. It was loud enough to draw the attention of her roommate, Lauren. She leaned into the doorway. “Don’t you have a date?” Lauren asked rhetorically. It was all Emma was talking about for the last few days. Although they had only chatted online, and then texted, she got the genuine impression that Eric was a one of the good guys, a rare commodity nowadays. His humor, charm, and charisma was evident in the texts he sent, the thought of a real life interaction with him was all but nerve-wracking. “I was supposed to be there – “, she looked her shoulder at the clock that read 8pm, “ – now. But I can’t find a single thing to wear!” She sighed. “I’ve got to start watching. This is getting out of control.” Emma patted her soft belly through her skin tight t-shirt and the ripples ran through her entire body like shockwaves. Lauren’s eyes lit up. She suddenly had an idea but before she could speak, Emma continued. “I wanted to lose 20 pounds this summer. I was so determined, Laur. But between the drinking, and the take-out, I must have gained at least that.” “Hey, you’re beautiful!” Lauren interjected. “You met this guy on Tinder, right?” “Yeah, so?” “Soooo… that’s about the most superficial thing there is out there. You have a few pictures of yourself, and a couple dozen words to describe you – and honestly, do you think guys read that? Don’t answer that. They don’t. They look at the pictures and swipe right or left based solely on what they see. Obviously this guy sees the beauty in you regardless of your size.” Emma contemplated this for a moment but rebutted, still dejected, “That’s the problem, Lauren! Those pictures were from 2 years and probably fifty pounds ago! I mean, I’ve never been a small girl but this guy is going to feel like I catfished him. I mean, I was thick, a little chunky then, but now, I don’t even know. I’ve been too afraid to weigh myself. I’ve outgrown most of my clothes I know it’s not going to be good.” Lauren shook her head and moved from the doorway and sat on the bed next to Emma, pushing the mountain of clothes out her way to do so. She put her arm around her and began her pep talk. “Look, you got a couple options here. You find something to wear and maybe you’re not super comfortable in it but maybe he doesn’t notice, it goes well, and it’s a big ego boost for you, or maybe he feels betrayed and walks out, in which case, why would you want to date him anyway? From everything you’ve said he seems like a decent guy. Or you can stay her and sulk and never know what happens, and that doesn’t do anybody any good.” “Ugh, you’re right, I know,” Emma said. “I just wish I could look skinnier. Just for now. Just to gauge him, you know? I don’t want him thinking I was deceitful and scare him away. It’s not really fair to him.” Lauren stood up. “There’s another option. I don’t want you to freak out, but just try to keep an open mind here.” Confused Emma looked on. “Okay…?” Lauren bent down and started taking off her shoes and began to explain, “So, you know how I would never want to go to the pool, or to the beach or anything?” “Yeah… I thought you were afraid of the water. Almost drowned as a kid or something?” “I am afraid of the water, but not because I almost drowned as a kid. Because of bathing suits.” “Bathing suits? But you’re skinny! You lost all that weight and now…” Lauren chuckled, and cut her off “That’s the thing. I didn’t lose the weight. Not a pound.” She pulled down her pants. From under Lauren’s shirt Emma saw a flesh colored, almost translucent material extending to her knees. Lauren began shimmying out her shirt, showing that it was essentially a short sleeved body suit. The material stretched at the middle of Lauren’s arms, across her chest, and down to her knees. “What… what is that? Is that… spanx!?” Emma asked incredulously. “Spanx are good for hiding a waist, but when you got a whole lot more you want to hide… no…. These aren’t spanx. You know how my dad is a multi-millionaire? Well, I had his fashion team fix this up for me a couple years back. It’s revolutionary. I have all the prototypes, but I’m thinking about investing and expanding… erm…no pun intended… production.” Emma was shocked. She stood up and looked Lauren up and down. Circled her checking her out. This figure was artificial? She couldn’t believe it. It looked so natural. So real. “Pretty neat, huh? It compresses, but it’s still breathable so you don’t, you know, feel like you’re getting crushed to death, or feel like a sausage,” Lauren explained. “It’s incredible. You look so skinny in it! I thought you’d lost a hundred pounds!” “Well, that’s what I told everyone. I didn’t want the design to leak just yet. Plus, ya know, I’m as self conscious as you are. If not worse. So I kept it a secret. But now, I think I’m ready to let you in on it. I think it’ll help you.” Emma stared at her with her mouth open, still not able to believe that a seemingly light piece of see through fabric could alter her roommates shape that much. “I…I need to see. I need to see the real you. See how this works.” Lauren looked down at her flat belly compressed in the material and sighed, “Okay. Can’t believe I’m doing this. But we’re roomies, and best friends, so here it goes…” Lauren pushed a small button on the side and it sounded like a tire releasing air. The area around the neck and arms released, loosening and revealing an upper arm that was almost twice the size it had been just moments ago. Lauren unclipped straps at the shoulders that were seemingly invisible and pulled the top part down over her chest. She held the front and back parts at her waist and pulled them down to her feet. She stood there in front Emma, topless, wearing only a thong. Emma almost gasped. She couldn’t believe the transformation she had just witnessed. Lauren’s face was exactly the same, but her body, which only moments ago she had believed was perfect, was a cascade of soft, voluminous, fat. At one time she had wished she had Lauren’s perky B cups, but was staring at large hanging double D’s, resting on top of a large, round belly. Stretch marks expanding in lightning bolt shapes from her belly button to her wide hips. Lauren’s belly hung over her panty line, with only the very bottom of her pink thong visible under the mountain of belly. Her thighs looked like they had doubled in size. Emma was jealous of Lauren’s thigh gap, but now laughed to herself, as she looked at these cellulite marked hams that squeezed together, a small roll in each of them at towards the top near her panty line. She walked around her and saw back fat rolls that, if not for their lack of nipples, would have looked like small breasts. Looking down and seeing Lauren’s rear end protruding twice as far as she had previously thought, her large cellulite filled cheeks swallowing any evidence of her pink thong. Emma reached out and squeezed the protruding cheek, feel it’s softness, lifting it up and dropping it, seeing a ripple effect throughout Lauren’s body. “Hey! Watch it!” Lauren yelled, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I just had to see if it’s real,” Emma explained. “Oh it’s real, Emma. All 250 pounds of this. Real.” Emma snapped back to reality and looked at the clock. 8:15. “Damn it! I’m late! So can I really borrow this thing?” She pleaded. “It’s all yours. As a matter of fact, keep it! I have others.” Emma hugged her roommate, their fat bellies squishing together. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’m going to change and try this on… and I’ll probably have to borrow some of your skinny clothes!” “Help yourself! I’ll be in the living room. I have a date, too. With Ben & Jerry.”
  10. Hey everyone, long time lurker first time poster here. I've just published an interactive weight gain game on textadventures.co.uk and would love to know what you guys think. Here's the link and the description: http://textadventures.co.uk/games/view/g3dtgbottkmxogpoqagc1q/annas-wedding "You are Anna, a young woman about to experience the happiest day of her life as you get married to the man of your dreams. You've always struggled with your self-esteem and have been unable to control your weight since you got engaged, but you're determined to avoid over-indulging on junk food on your big day. However, your lack of will-power is likely to get you into trouble! Choose either to attempt to resist your gluttony as the day goes on, or to embrace it, and shape how your married life will turn out in the end through the choices you make. Seemingly minor decisions could turn out to have BIG consequences for you!" Here's a list of features which I believe makes this a rewarding game to play for FAs: - Anna's weight is dynamic. What that means is that the more food you have her eat, the bigger the number will be when you step on the game world's many weighing scales, and the more gluttonous will be the habits you instil in her for the future. - There are dozens of different clothing items for you to interact with, of all different sizes. Some will fit, but many will be too tight! A few may even be too big... - There are multiple outcomes for the ending both in terms of plot and (obviously) in terms of Anna's weight, and lots of little bonus items that will appear in the final few rooms depending on how well you stuff Anna. I will apologise at this point for all the Limey lingo and for using British clothing sizes. I am British, so it would be dishonest for me to do anything else! As a rule of thumb, the number for dress size is always 4 up from the US equivalent - i.e. a US Size 12 is a UK Size 16. There is also a decent amount of humiliation in store for Anna, so if that isn't your thing then you might want to give this a miss. So in short, what I'd love to hear is feedback, which you could provide either by DM or (preferably) in this thread. Let me know if you spot any glitches or programming errors, or get stuck. If you're struggling to unlock all the unlockables, I may be able to provide some hints... And above all let me know how fat you manage to make Anna! The challenge is on
  11. Y'know, the pre-internet stuff~ which yes, I know is in the DIMz archives somewhere... and his DeviantArt page, and his blogspot blog... I saw this place mentioned while googling ~and had been meaning to sign up for awhile...
  12. Hi! This is one of my favorite works I’ve written! It is a bit risqué and the kinks in it are def not for everyone but I hope most people enjoy it!! If there’s interest I’d love to read this on cam for y’all!! ✨✨✨ I want you to walk in the door with intention. I know where I’m meant to be when you come home. On the Slut’s Spot, waiting and willing. When I see you pick up your leather boots I know exactly what’s expected of me tonight and I drop to my knees, still on my spot. I watch as you take a seat on the couch and change your shoes. My knuckles touch the rug under me in anticipation. Once you are settled and comfortable you pat your thigh to call me over. “Come, be a good bitch and lick my boots till I’m hard enough to fuck your throat.” My mouth fills with drool as I lift my ass off my feet and crawl to you on hands and knees. As I approach you I lower my face and raise my ass, as I know you expect. I bring my wet tongue to the leather and take a long, slow lick across the side of your boot. I keep my ass in the air for you as I continuously use my tongue to clean your boots. I love being a good bitch for you and doing what you order me to. I moan as I drag my tongue over the toe of your boot because I know you are watching me happily degrade myself and your cock is stiffening because of it. Every time my tits drag across the floor I’m reminded of how demeaning this is but that just makes me want to do it even more. Both your boots are shiny with my drool at this point and you reach down and seize my hair, pulling my face up to where you can look me in the eyes. “Open your mouth.” I obey immediately. You take a moment, savoring my compliance, before you spit straight on my tongue. I moan a little getting ready to have your dick in my throat before you order me to hold. I stay where I am, gazing up at you from my knees as you use the hand that’s not holding my hair to scrub my mouth with your spit. “I have to wash your mouth out before I’ll let you touch my dick, dirty slut.” You are thorough and brutal, even spitting into my mouth again at one point when you felt like you need more. I love the feeling of your fingers stretching every inch of my mouth and keep trying to angle them down my throat. You laugh at me, and tell me to take out your dick. As I hurry to obey you ask “are you ready to have your throat full of my cock, like the good fucktoy you are?” “Yes Master! I love to service you!” Your grip on my hair tightens as you direct my mouth to wrap around your cock. As my lips close around your head you groan and I smile around your dick. I love having evidence that I’m doing my job well. My wet mouth slides easily over your rigid cock as I bob my head up and down in time with your hand still wrapped in my hair. You groan again and grip tightly as you push my mouth further down your dick. I happily oblige and run my tongue across the warm tip of you. As you get deeper I feel my throat begin to fill and I open it so you can nestle your member all the way in. This is my favorite part, feeling the head of your cock stretch and encompass my throat as I choke and gag. Your hands leave my hair then but I don’t surface yet. I’m enjoying the feeling of your cock pulsating deep in my throat. I’m breathing in being in my place, at your feet, instead of the air I usually breathe. I can feel my mouth filling with drool again and instead of swallowing it I relax my mouth as I slowly drag my lips up the length of your cock, letting the slobber slide down your shaft as I deeply inhale. I hear you do the same as you watch me make a mess of us both. I look up at you as I reach the head of your dick and our eyes meet. “What a good girl you are. I’m so proud of how my slut does exactly what’s expected of her.” I moan and squirm, my eyes darting away from yours. You catch my chin and raise it a bit, careful not to dislodge your cock from its place in my mouth. “Look at me,” your voice rumbles through me and then you remove your hand; crossing your arms, you look down at me in expectation. I keep the contact as I continue worshiping you from my knees. I start up again slowly, teasing every inch of you. I can’t go all the way down without breaking the eye contact you’ve demanded of me and I won’t disobey. Instead I do short, slow strokes and use my tongue to ensure every inch I can access is generously coated in my saliva. I can feel your groan in every inch where our bodies touch and it makes me shudder. Hearing you enjoy my service makes me so pleased I smile, and as the corners of my lips pull away from your cock a lake of drool spills down your shaft and gathers at the base of your cock and pools among your balls. I begin to pull back, embarrassed, but you growl down at me and, suddenly, one of your hands is wrapped around my throat, and the other palms the back of my head. I begin to panic but you softly shhhhh me as you drive your head as far into my throat as you can fit. Your hand on my head rocks up and down, just a bit, at the same time your hand on my throat tightens and releases. I lose myself in the dual sensation, just existing in my place as your cockslave. I don’t begin to fight until I can’t wait any longer to breathe, but you won’t let me go. Your hands stop moving then, the one on my head tight in my hair holding me against you, and the one on my throat snug against where you can feel your cock inside me. My hands flutter against you, ineffectual against your hold. As you feel my mouth slacken you release my neck and pull back on my hair. I can’t do anything but follow where you lead as you raise my head from your lap. A fresh torrent of slobber slickens everything in the area since I’m not quite able to control anything other than taking a deep breath right now. Your eyes are intense as you look at the mess I’ve made. “Awww, little bitch. Look what you’ve done. Such a dirty slut deserves a reward. Take out your tits for me.” I quickly comply, still recovering from the lack of air. My massive tits tumble out of the top of my dress as I pull it down. You grab me by the forearms and pull my torso across your lap. You arrange my tits so one sits on either side of your cock and my face is above everything. Then you swipe all the drool from my face and rub it inbetween my tits and into your dick. I’m feeling back to my normal self at this point and I begin to shift my tits around you to try and hear you moan. I must be wearing a mischievous look because you reach out and seize one of my nipples in each of your hands. I moan and squirm against your lap as you continue to tease and tug on my nipples. “Do you like it when I play with your udders?” You look down at me with a smirk, you already know the answer I’ll give. “Yes, Master. It feels so good when you make me your hucow. I love giving you access to every inch of me. Using my body to pleasure you is my favorite thing in the world. Thank you for making me feel so good.” And as I finished thanking you I dropped my lips to the head of your cock and begin licking every part I can reach. Your hands milking my nipples keeps me gasping and rocking as you let your head drop back on the couch to immerse yourself in my softness, no thoughts anymore only creamy skin and rampant pleasure. Every little change in sensation sends a ripple through your body and I am living for watching the ecstasy flicker across your face while being unobserved myself. I groan to myself before a grin spreads across my lips. Then I wrap them around your cock to drive you over the edge. It worked too, because your fingers trail from my nipples to the rounded sides of my tits until you can get a good grip on them, one overflowing in each hand. You come back to yourself and look down at me from my place on the floor as I use as much of my body as possible for your pleasure. You growl again and start bucking your hips so that you’re fucking both my tits and my face at the same time. Your hands tighten around my tits until it hurts but I don’t stop or cry out. I can tell by the swelling in your dick and the tremble in your breathing you’re so close. I stop bobbing my head and drive my face as far between my tits as I can achieve and hold it there. My fingernails dig into your sides as I clench my hands while you savage my face and tits. I’m moaning into you as you thrust up, I can’t help it when you’re being so brutal but that seems to be what hits the spot. Thick and warm, your seed shoots into my mouth and throat. Your load is so big I start ** so the next rope of cum arches across my tits and face. Your eyes are glazed over but you say in a clear, husky voice, “You look so hot covered in my cum. What a good cockslave I have,” while patting my head and fixing my hair. Once I have my breath back I begin to lick myself clean, like a good pet. You watch my efforts with a leisurely smirk, but as I lift a breast to my tongue and casually lick a line of cum your gaze darkens and your cock twitches. I realize you’re watching me and I meet your gaze. You only say one word: “Run.”
  13. A girlfriend role play of me acknowledging how much I’ve lost control of my body now being fat and wobbly At the end of the video i can’t help but touch myself until i explode hehe 😏👀
    $4.99
  14. Guest

    From feeder to feedee

    Hi everyone! I'm looking for stories where female feeders gets fatter than their feedees. I asked this question on bbw-chan and have gotten some feed back, but I thought may be posting here would help widen the search (also, I was sick and tired of seeing "Custom WG art and stories " just sitting at the top of this forum collecting dust). If you have any suggestions, please don't hesitate to share. Here's what been suggested so far: Backfired by snr6424: http://snr6424.deviantart.com/art/Backfired-Part-1-FWG-178432139 http://snr6424.deviantart.com/art/Backfired-Part-2-FWG-178432953 http://snr6424.deviantart.com/art/Backfired-Part-3-FWG-178433415 http://snr6424.deviantart.com/art/Backfired-Part-4-FWG-178433658 Claire parts 1 & 2 by Zarbon: http://www.dimensionsmagazine.com/Weight_Room/stories/claire1.html http://www.dimensionsmagazine.com/Weight_Room/stories/claire2.html Heidi by HGee:http://www.dimensionsmagazine.com/forums/showthread.php?t=9142&highlight=heidi Food for Thought by polarisdreamer:http://polarisdreamer.deviantart.com/gallery/61723114/Food-For-Thought Changing Habits by Staolea: http://www.dimensionsmagazine.com/forums/showthread.php?t=43692&highlight=changing+habits Bored and Beautiful in Miami by Avacadodo: http://avacadodo.deviantart.com/art/Bored-and-Beautiful-in-Miami-1-The-Caged-Bird-621159066 http://avacadodo.deviantart.com/art/Bored-n-Beautiful-in-Miami-2-Blossoming-Flower-622806812 http://avacadodo.deviantart.com/art/Bored-and-Beautiful-in-Miami-3-Ripe-Fruit-627079689 http://avacadodo.deviantart.com/art/Bored-and-Beautiful-in-Miami-4-Press-Play-632879000 http://avacadodo.deviantart.com/art/Bored-and-Beautiful-in-Miami-5-Fin-637994524 The Slowest Champion by riptoryx: http://riptoryx.deviantart.com/art/The-Slowest-Champion-Revisited-COVER-649231801 The Sculpting of Kate by Woodsmont: https://www.curvage.org/forum/index.php?/forums/topic/21795-the-sculpting-of-kate/#comment-289935 Thanks in advance!
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