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I have been thinking about you for the last few days. I wrestle a bit with the idea of bringing you up. Lest I forget, I’m higher up in the work food chain than you. You’re just in IT, but I’m an executive. I saw you for the first time a couple of days ago and I knew that I had to use you for my amusement. What could be better than a skinny new boy toy for me to play with? I call down to your department and hear your voice on the other end, “Hello, IT.” “Yes,” I start commandingly, “There’s an issue with my monitor. I need someone up here now.” “Well, what seems to be the nature of-“ “Didn’t you hear me?” I interrupt you. “I told you to come up here now.” I don’t like that you think you have a choice. “Yes Ma’am! Right away!” You hung that phone up pretty quickly. I sit my oversized ass in my oversized chair until you finally arrive, you seem out of breath. “Ah yes, finally. I need you to take a look at this monitor.” I say while standing up and walking over to you. I notice you staring at me, taking in my size. I walk up to you, you’re so tiny compared to me. Your head only comes up to my chin so not only do I have my weight, my height is also superior to your tiny form. I’m probably a good 4 times your size I reckon. After you spend a few seconds staring I say, “See anything you like?” and break you from your trance. “Oh! Uhh sorry ma’am.” You try to walk past me quickly, but when you get to my side, I hip check you. Its a playful bump on my end, but you being as small as you are compared to my size, lose your balance and fall to the floor. “Oops! Better watch your step.” I say playfully, giving you a wink. You scramble up and head over to the desk. As you do so, I close the door to my office giving me the privacy I need for some play time. “Hmm the monitor isn’t coming on at all,” you question. I walk back over to the desk while you sit down to check something under my desk. Right where I want you. “Okay,” you begin explaining. “It looks like, oh, it looks like you unplugged your monitor? But it’s pretty much fixed now.” You then motion back up from under the desk, seeing your dream, soon to be nightmare, come true. Me, facing away from you with my ass right in front of your face while you’re still sitting in my wide chair. Right where I want you. “Uhh... I think I should be-“ but it’s too late, right before you finish, I drop my large ass right on top of your lap, full weight. Your arms underneath my cheeks, struggling to get free. “Oh you’re so cute,” I say with a hint of lust. “Thinking that you can lift me off. Do you have any idea how heavy I am compared to you? Struggle all you want.” “Ma’am please!” You struggle to get the words out. “You’re too heavy, my legs-“ You get cut off by me leaning back against your chest and face. My back rolls, covering you completely, still glad I opted for the oversized chair that can still hold my weight. “You know, if anyone walked in right now, they wouldn’t even notice you under me haha!” I giggled to myself. I raise up from the chair listening to your desperate gasp for breath. “Okay, what should we do next?” I question out loud. “Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone.” “Haha!” I give out a booming laugh. “Thinking you can tell me what to do? Not only can you not physically stop me, but I’ll have you fired if you tried something so stupid. Now let’s get you up, shall we?” It’s time for me to make this experience a little more personal. I take my shirt off, revealing my large, creamy white, hanging belly. To make things even, I take one hand and grab a good portion of your shirt collar and rip it off, both of us standing there, completely topless. Since your legs are sore, I figured I would help pick you up. Well, into a bear hug that is. “Haha! I can’t believe how light you are!” I exclaim. “Please... can’t...” you are barely making any coherent words since my strong arms are wrapped around you, leaving your arms free, but pressed up against my fat. I’m certain you can feel the heat emanating from my giant belly, completely pressed up against your stick thin torso, practically absorbing you into my flesh. I feel your arms trying to get their grip onto my shoulders to try and stop me, but you can’t get any leverage to do so. Then I grip you even tighter squeezing out that last bit of breath you were holding. Lifting you like this has made us the same height at least. “You know something? There is something I’ve always wanted to try, but never had the chance until this exact moment.” I say coyly. You just stare into my menacing smile as I walk towards the wall of the office, taking my time so I can get maximum enjoyment from seeing your red face surprised with how easily I was able to transform you into my afternoon boy toy. “Let’s give this a shot.” I say as I approach the wall, I press you up against it and slowly release my grip on you from my arms, transferring it to my belly. You are able to stay in place against the wall, with my giant stomach pressing against you, wrapped around your skinny body with my fat circling you and pressing against the wall on either side. “Wow! I wasn’t sure if I was able to do that! I can feel someone is loving this though. Don’t pretend that I can’t feel your hard-on pressed against my belly.” “Ma’am, I’m not going to say anything. Just let me go!” You beg me. “I’ll tell you what,” I bargain, “if you can push me off of you, I’ll let you go.” Your face turns to even further surprise. Your arms are pinned down, your whole body is suspended off the floor by a few inches, only being held by my massive belly. How will you ever get free? “You can keep struggling, I like it when they struggle.” I say with a deep sigh at the end, clearly enjoying this myself. You continue to push and writhe while your body is consumed by my fat, but it’s no use. I can feel your chest and ribs starting to bend inwards while I ever so slowly lean more and more weight into you. After a 2 minute struggle, I take a step back and you fall to your knees on the floor, coughing for breath and clutching your rib cage. “Haha, oh is somebody hurt?” I laugh at you. “You can’t do this to me you... you cow!” You instinctively yell back, beginning to get angry. “Oh I beg to differ, tiny man. I’m so much bigger than you so I can do whatever I want. My fat body is just stronger and better than your insignificant one so I actually can do whatever I want. Here, let me prove it.” After my lecture, I lean forward and pick you up, throwing you over my fat shoulder with force so that your face hits my fat ass. “Now if I, ‘can’t do this,’ as you said, then why don’t you try to get free now.” I say softly. It’s clear that my lust is growing. I just love comparing our bodies and seeing how much bigger and stronger I am than you. You begin to struggle and pound your fists on my backside, if I were a skinny girl, it would probably hurt me, but my beautiful flab gives me soft armor that your weak arms couldn’t even begin to hurt me through. “See?” I say while you are kicking and punching. “You can’t even break my hold on you while I’m carrying you around. What chance do you have otherwise? In fact, why don’t I get some exercise and get some steps in?” “Jesus! You’re too strong, you’re crushing my stomach into your shoulder!” you yell again. I just laugh and continue to walk around the office with you tossed over my shoulder. It’s almost comical how little you look over my broad shoulders and body. Every step I take with you carried, you can feel the tightness around your midsection. I exaggerate my footfalls so my shoulder digs into you further and further, I’m sure it feels like getting multiple uppercuts to your stomach. You continue to kick and push to get some relief from me, but it’s no use. You are essentially as strong as a child is to an adult when you are in this position. Completely helpless and embarrassed that a girl could ever do this to you, but I’m much more than any ordinary girl. I am a giantess, walking around proudly with my latest prize. “Okay, let’s try something else.” I say, and as I finish that statement, I lean forward slightly, then push upright, grab your arms and pull your upper body over my other shoulder to get you in a fireman carry. “Oh my god, I can barely feel your weight now. It really does amuse me how little you weigh. I am basically four of you!” This is probably the best recreation I’ve had all week. “Now, instead of going to the gym today, maybe I can get my squats in early.” I say. I then squat down low and rise back up. Your arms and legs are starting to get tired and I notice them giving up some fight. You are just in a helpless position for me to do whatever I want to you, and treating you like my own personal squat rack is just one hobby I have in mind. “…and 30! Phew, usually I squat a lot heavier so I decided to make up for the reps this time to accommodate the small weight, haha!” I toy with you. “Alright, there’s just one more thing I need from my new favorite IT department.” I then lay your tired body onto my desk with your head on one end, stretched out fully across my elegant desk. I come around to where your head is, you look up at me completely frightened of what will happen next, as well you should be. “Alright then, I had a good time with you today, but I think we can end things here. Don’t worry, you’ll survive this, but I think I’ve had my fill today. I’ll see you next time little man.” I explain, “Wait, what are-“ you are then immediately cut off by me lifting my belly up with my strong arms and dropping it over your head and chest. After I do this, I lean forward more, letting my belly spread over you, totally consuming more of your torso. My belly extends from your head, going all the way down past your elbows on the desk. It probably feels like your head and torso are being consumed by a giant and warm sandbag, completely encasing you as you feel as though I’m literally absorbing you into my fat body. As I lean more weight onto you, I also hear the desk creaking from the sudden weight being applied to it. “Mmmm yeah, this is nice...” I moan softly. I just love seeing your little body, squirming under my belly. Even my stomach is just too much weight to handle as I notice more of your panic setting in. Your arms are heavily pinned so you can’t push my fat off and your legs are only kicking, trying to get any leverage for you to escape, but all I have to do is stand here and lean on you. I’m not pinning you down with any of my strong muscle, I’m just standing here like the goddess that I am, keeping you pinned down with my flab. “That’s right, keep struggling my slave...” I moan again, slowly rubbing my giant boobs and enjoying your whimpers and feeling you struggle against my body. Finally, your struggle dies down and I step back lifting my belly off you. You are still alive like I promised, but you are out of it for sure. A lot of oxygen was taken away by your goddess. “You nearly passed out there, haha! Okay little man, I’m going out for lunch now. I had a good time with you, and trust me…this won’t be the last time.” I put on my shirt, grab my purse and open the office door, still leaving you on my desk topless while you cough to breathe. Just before I walk out, I say, “Oh and make sure that monitor is working by the time I come back, haha!”

Be like Snorlax ... Let me sit on you

This is an experiment with AI generation of a kink related story. I used Spicy Writer 6.1. The story forked after the last section and I couldn't bring it back. o7. ******* He hadn’t meant to stare when Kimberly entered the room—but there was no looking away. Every step she took was slow, deliberate, hips rolling beneath the sway of her belly, the heavy hang of her breasts only barely restrained by the silk bra vanishing into her curves. Her body was pure excess: rich with flesh, wide, warm, and utterly unbothered by how the floor seemed to whisper beneath her tread. Her belly swelled in front of her like an altar to hunger itself—dimpled, stretched, and perfect. When she moved, it jiggled with her, leading just a moment before the rest of her followed. She caught his gaze and smirked, brushing a hand down the plush underside of it with the same tenderness others reserved for stroking silk. Her voice, low and knowing, curled around him like smoke. “I hope you brought everything.” The table beside the bed groaned under the weight of what he had prepared: honey-drizzled pastries, soft wedges of cheese, rich, greasy takeout piled high in cartons. A bowl of chocolate-dipped strawberries sat beside a stack of sticky buns, their icing glistening under the dim lamp. She settled back onto the bed, and the mattress responded with a thick creak, adjusting to her weight like a lover’s sigh. Kimberly sank in, her thick thighs parting, rolls folding over one another in soft mounds. Her belly spread across her lap, a soft slope rising and falling with every lazy breath. She patted it once, then looked at him. “Well? You going to feed me, or just keep standing there gawking like it’s your first time seeing a real woman?” He moved closer, lips parted, breath shallow. “You’re…” The word never finished. She held up a strawberry and crooked her finger, beckoning him in. He knelt before her, reverent, cradling the fruit between his fingers and pressing it gently to her lips. She bit slowly, tongue flicking out to catch the juice before it dripped. A faint moan hummed up from her throat. “Mmmph… more.” He obeyed. Bit by bit, he fed her: syrup-drenched pancakes folded into her mouth, her cheeks puffing out as she chewed slowly, savoring every bite. Her belly swelled subtly with each bite, pushing forward, heavier, fuller. She arched her back, her breasts rising, sighing with pleasure and glancing down at him with a half-lidded gaze. “You like watching it grow, don’t you?” He nodded, breath trembling. His fingers reached out, skimming over the taut skin of her belly, the stretch marks like faint lightning bolts drawn across cream. She exhaled deeply as he began to kiss them—each line a story, a memory, a mark of indulgence that he worshipped with tongue and lips. “Kiss it deeper,” she purred, pressing his head firmly against her. “You want to please me? Start by loving this belly right.” His tongue traced the lower curve, tasting the sweat-slick heat of her. He buried his face in the underhang, his breath ragged, her scent thick and intoxicating. He kissed and sucked, murmuring praises into her skin as her hand slid through his hair, holding him close. She shifted, grinding forward just slightly, her belly resting more heavily on his shoulders. He moaned helplessly, buried beneath her weight, trembling under the sheer presence of her. “I know what you want,” she murmured, reaching for a cupcake. She took a bite, then smeared a thick dollop of icing across the swell of her belly, her fingers gliding slow. “Eat it off me.” He didn’t hesitate. Tongue out, he licked it away in long strokes, lips dragging over her flesh, savoring both frosting and her. The bed rocked slightly as she leaned back, watching him devour her with his mouth, eyes fluttering closed in bliss. “You love how big I am. How much space I take up. You’re hard just from touching my belly, aren’t you?” He nodded frantically, gasping between licks. She laughed, low and rich. “Pathetic. You’d rut the mattress if I told you to, wouldn’t you?” “Yes,” he whimpered. “Please—Kimberly—I need—” She reached down, gripping the base of his cock through his pants, pressing him back with a single thick finger against his lips. “Not yet. You don’t come until I say. Right now, your only job is making me feel good.” Her free hand pushed more food into her mouth, cheeks glistening with oil and sugar, moaning as she swallowed. Her belly, now swollen and sensitive, quivered under his touch. He rubbed it, kissed it, bit gently, worshipped it as if it were sacred. She ground herself against him, the weight of her hips pressing his thighs flat to the bed. “Touch yourself,” she commanded softly. “But don’t come. Not until this belly gets everything it’s due.” He obeyed, eyes locked on her, one hand stroking his cock slow while the other cupped and lifted her massive belly, pressing kisses underneath, moaning her name like a prayer. Kimberly’s hand found his again, guiding it lower, forcing him to feel just how slick she was beneath the warmth of her belly. Her folds were wet, sticky, the scent making his head spin. “You see what feeding me does? You fill me up, and I get hungry for more. Touch me, worship me, make me come—and then maybe I’ll let you fuck me while I’m still stuffed and aching.” His fingers slid inside her, and she bucked forward, breath catching. He lapped at her belly as he fucked her slowly, the squelch of it obscene, her thighs clenching around his hips. She moaned, long and low. “Keep going. That’s it. Give this goddess what she deserves.” ******** Kimberly’s voice poured over him like hot syrup, thick and inescapable, laced with the kind of command that made his body burn. Her moan still rang in his ears, the slow grind of her hips dragging across his thighs as her belly jostled forward, swollen and heavy, resting across his chest now, burying him in her softness. He was pinned under her weight—not crushed, but owned—wrapped in the heat of her, the scent of sweat and sugar and sex. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, tight and soaked, and she shuddered as he kept moving—slow thrusts meant to please, to obey. She didn't tell him to stop. So he didn’t. “That’s it,” she whispered, one hand sliding up to cup her breast, squeezing it until it spilled over her fingers, nipple beading hard. “Look at you. Stroking your cock while you finger me like a good little feeder slut. Bet you’re aching to come.” He was. God, he was. The hand on his cock trembled, grip faltering every time she moaned, every time her belly shifted and covered him more. He licked along the underside again, smearing sweat and leftover frosting over his lips as he kissed and kissed, mouthing the rolls and the warm slope just above her clit, letting her ride the pleasure out on his hands and mouth. Then her belly heaved forward again, and this time she leaned in fully, letting it smother his chest, rising and falling like a living tide as she bent down, mouth grazing his ear. “Lie back,” she whispered. “Don’t you dare move unless I say.” He nodded fast, breathless. She sat up, rising like a wave above him, thick thighs spreading wide over his hips as she positioned herself. Her belly hung low, brushing his cock now, and he nearly came from that alone—just the feeling of that much weight, that much woman, gliding over him with a moan. Kimberly lifted her ass, adjusted her angle, and reached down to guide him to her entrance. Her pussy, soaked from all his teasing, welcomed his cock with a slick, warm pull—and she took him slow, sinking down inch by inch with a guttural groan. “Ffffuck—yes,” she hissed, tossing her hair back, hands splayed on her thighs. “Feel that? Feel how tight I get when I’m stuffed, when you’ve fed me so full I can barely move without feeling it everywhere?” He moaned out something desperate, something incoherent. She was too much. Her cunt squeezed him so perfectly he nearly blacked out. Her belly settled again, pressing hard against his stomach as she rolled her hips. “Oh god—Kimberly—” he gasped, hands flying up to grab her belly, squeezing its sides as she rode him, heavy and deliberate. Every bounce of her hips sent ripples through her body, every motion exaggerated by how plush and full she was. Her tits clapped against her chest, belly slapping down with a wet fwomp every time she dropped. “You love this,” she panted, bouncing harder now, both hands bracing against his chest. “You love how I smother you with my weight. You want to drown in this belly. You wanna be my feeder boy forever, don't you?” “Yes—yes—fuck—I need it—I need you—” He was rutting up into her now, helpless under her, fingers clutching the softness of her sides as she rode him with growing ferocity. The bed groaned, the headboard tapping the wall, their skin smacking, slick and loud. “You don’t come,” she growled, her eyes sharp, body quivering around him. “Not until I say. Or I’ll sit on your face till you pass out and edge you every fucking day until your balls turn blue.” He whined, face twisting with agony and bliss. She was clenching around him, her belly jostling harder with each thrust, and when she came it was explosive—her mouth dropping open, fingers digging into his chest, cunt spasming around his cock as her whole body shook. The weight of her orgasm crushed him, literally and figuratively, her full mass sinking down until her belly spread completely across him, squashing his abs, rolling down his sides, her thighs locking him in place. “Good boy,” she purred once the waves subsided, her body molten and gleaming. “Now. You want to come?” “Yes—please—please, Kimberly—” She reached down, fingers wrapping around his throat lightly. Not squeezing—just claiming. Her belly pressed even firmer against him as she rocked forward one last time. “Then earn it. Rub my belly. Tell me what it does to you. Tell me how badly you want to come for me. And if I like what I hear… maybe I’ll let you.” ******** Kimberly didn’t move for a long moment, content to sit heavy on his cock with his chest flattened beneath her. Her breath slowed, luxuriant in the aftermath of her orgasm, her full belly rising and falling against his torso like a weighted blanket of flesh and power. He lay under her, trembling, hands still buried in the soft heft of her sides, as if letting go might break the spell. Then she leaned forward, belly shifting downward, flowing over his ribs until it crept toward his throat. “You did so good,” she murmured, voice syrupy-sweet but thick with dominance. “But you’re not finished. You haven’t earned your release.” He whimpered, breath catching when her belly smothered his upper chest, slowly crawling toward his face. The sheer size of it pinned him, the heat of her skin slick with sweat and the faint trace of sugar. His lips parted instinctively for breath, but she kept sliding forward until her belly swelled over his chin, his nose, until he was buried beneath her. “Breathe for me,” she whispered, not cruel, just commanding. “Breathe me in. You love this belly—prove it.” His mouth moved, muffled against her skin, sucking air where he could, each breath filtered through her warmth. The pressure increased as she relaxed her weight, settling her full belly over his face, smothering his cheeks, his nose squashed into the fold beneath her navel. One hand slid up to cradle the back of his head, holding him close, while her other reached between her legs to lazily rub her still-dripping pussy. He twitched beneath her, hard as steel, his hips bucking up into the air, craving friction, craving touch—denied. “That’s it,” she purred, her belly rising slightly with each breath he managed to steal. “You’re so fucking good at being buried under me. Bet you’re leaking already, aren’t you? All choked up on my belly, cock twitching while you drown in me.” He couldn’t answer. He couldn’t speak. Just squirmed under the suffocating softness, eyes rolling back, hands clawing gently at her sides—not to escape, but to hold her closer. Then, finally, she pulled back—just an inch—enough to let him gasp, to suck in one ragged, desperate breath. And she laughed. “Oh, baby. You liked that.” She rolled off, slow and smooth, his face flushed and slick with her, spit, and sweat. His eyes were glassy, his chest heaving. But he was still hard. Desperate. Needy. “You’re not getting off that easy,” she whispered, turning around, her immense ass dragging across his belly before she straddled his head the opposite way. Thighs spread. Pussy glistening. And then she dropped. All at once, her entire weight collapsed onto his face. The heat was overwhelming. Her folds engulfed him, drenched and swollen, clinging to his mouth and nose as he gasped reflexively. Her thighs locked tight against his ears, and her hips gave a slow, rolling grind, smearing herself across him. “You want to breathe? Then make it worth my while. Eat.” He obeyed. Tongue flicking out, desperate for taste and oxygen all at once. His face disappeared into her, lips sealing around her clit, dragging up and down while his lungs begged for more. She moaned, deep and hungry, grinding harder against him with every flick of his tongue. “Fuck yes—right there—don’t stop—” His hands slid up her thighs, squeezing, urging her to ride harder, to press down more. She obliged. Rocking back, she pressed her full weight onto his skull until the mattress underneath gave another warning creak. He couldn’t breathe—but he didn’t care. He was ** on her, and nothing had ever felt more right. “You love being suffocated by this pussy, don’t you?” she gasped. “You want to drown right here, between my legs, stuffed with food, buried under fat. Say it.” He slapped her thigh once—twice—signaling his limit. She lifted just enough for him to speak, gasping for air. “Yes—fuck—yes, Kimberly, I want to drown in you—I want to belong under you—please, let me come—please—” Her hand reached behind her, found his cock blindly. It was slick, rock hard, pulsing wildly. She gave it one slow stroke. “Then you’ll come under me.” And she dropped again. No more mercy. His tongue picked up where it left off, faster now, frantic. Her pussy throbbed on his lips, and she rode him with wild abandon, moaning his name like a curse. His body jerked under her—once, twice—and then he came. No hand on his cock. No stimulation but the sound of her voice and the crushing heat of her cunt. He came hard, hips jerking, cum spurting hot across his stomach. And still she stayed seated. Milking his face for every last tremble. Using his lips and tongue until her second orgasm flooded over him, her thighs trembling, moans breaking into sharp gasps as she writhed on his face. Only when he’d stopped twitching did she lift off, rolling off his head, her belly dragging along his chest and settling beside him. He lay there—red-faced, sweaty, glazed in her scent. Kimberly leaned in close, smirking. “Next time, I’m sitting on your cock the whole time. And you’re not allowed to come until I’ve smothered you unconscious.” ******* Her weight still lingered on his body even after she rolled off—a ghost of heat and pressure that had soaked into his bones. His face was flushed, lips swollen, jaw sore, but he didn’t stop smiling. Not even when his breath came in tiny, shaky gasps. Kimberly lay beside him, arm draped lazily over his chest, her fingers dragging soft, idle lines through the mess of his own cum smeared across his stomach. “Mmm,” she purred, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “you taste like me.” He turned to her, eyes still a little glazed, voice rough. “You nearly killed me.” She grinned, all lush wickedness. “Almost. But not quite.” Her belly shifted as she moved, the weight of it dragging against him, folding as she rolled to press it more deliberately into his side. He reached down, cupping the slope of it, fingers gliding through the sheen of sweat. “You’re so soft. So heavy. I want to get lost in you.” Her laugh was deep and rich. “You already did.” He shifted onto his side to face her, pressing kisses to the curve of her belly. “I could stay right here forever.” “You better,” she murmured. “You feed me like this again, worship this fat right, and I’ll smother you till you pass out. I’ll leave you in a puddle every damn time.” He groaned, cock twitching against her thigh—already hard again, twitching with every slow breath she took. The way her belly spilled over her hips, the way her folds crept across the bed—he couldn’t help himself. And she noticed. Her hand slid between his legs, brushing his cock with a lazy smile. “Still so hard? You’ve got more in you, huh?” “I haven’t even touched you properly yet,” he breathed. “Not the way I want to.” Her brow arched, amused and intrigued. “Then show me.” He sat up slightly, eyes locked to her rolls, her belly, the overhang pooling into the sheets like molten silk. She watched him watching her, licking her lips as he slid lower, straddling her thighs now, his cock throbbing. He started slow, dragging his hands down over the vast plane of her stomach. He squeezed the side of her belly, let it jiggle and bounce under his grip, before nestling himself into the deep crease between it and her upper thigh. His cock pressed against the fold, and he let out a ragged moan at the feel of it—hot, tight, plush. “Oh fuck…” he hissed. “I need this.” Kimberly leaned back, hands behind her head, breasts pushed up to the ceiling, belly spilling wide as she watched him. “Use it. Fuck my fat. Show me how bad you need it.” He didn’t need to be told twice. He gripped her side and started thrusting—cock gliding into the fold between belly and thigh, sliding slick with sweat and precum. Her skin gripped him, wrapped him, squeezed in waves of soft warmth. “God—you’re—so fucking soft—” he groaned, hips jerking, the fold hugging every inch of his cock. “I could fuck you like this for hours—” “Then do it,” she gasped, belly quivering from the movement. “Use my fat. Get off on it. Fuck every roll if you want—this body was made to be worshipped.” He rutted into her, faster now, both hands gripping her sides to push his cock deeper into the fold. Her belly bounced with every thrust, soft claps of skin filling the room. His balls slapped against her thigh as he fucked the crease, groaning loud. “I’m gonna come like this,” he warned. “Fucking your fat—just your fucking fat—” “Do it,” she snarled. “Coat my rolls. Mark me.” His thrusts went erratic, desperate. One final grind into her fold and he came hard, spurting thick across her belly, streaking her fat with his cum, hips twitching, body shaking. But she wasn’t done. “Turn me over,” she growled. “You’re still hard. I want to feel you inside this time. Take me. Now.” He scrambled to obey, hands feverish as he helped her roll to all fours. It took effort, her body massive, but the moment she settled—knees wide, back arched, belly swaying heavy between her thighs—it was worth it. Her ass spread wide, folds dripping, pussy swollen and slick. Her belly brushed the sheets, dangling gloriously beneath her, swaying with every slight movement. He gripped her hips, pressed the head of his cock to her entrance, and pushed in. She gasped, dropping her head, knuckles digging into the sheets. “Fucking hell,” he moaned. “You’re perfect. You’re so fucking tight like this.” He started to thrust, slow at first—just to feel it. The way her pussy squeezed him. The slap of his thighs against her fat ass. The way her belly bounced beneath her, brushing the bed, moving in hypnotic rhythm with his pace. She was huge—and he loved it. He grabbed her hips harder, pulled her into each thrust, fucking her deeper, harder, belly smacking against her thighs as she pushed back into him. “Yes—fuck yes—stretch me, fill me—god, yes!” she cried, breasts swinging, belly jostling. He leaned over her, cock buried deep, and reached under to grab her belly as he fucked her. “Say it,” he growled. “Say you love being used. Say you love being this full.” “I love it—I love it—I love being your fat fucktoy,” she wailed. “I want you to fill me, stretch me, come inside me—now—” He rammed into her one final time, buried to the hilt, and exploded—cum spilling deep, hips jerking, moaning her name like prayer. They collapsed forward together, her belly spreading beneath them both. Silence—save for panting. Then she laughed. “You’re mine now.” “Yes,” he whispered against her back. “Forever.” ******* She lay there on her belly, vast and gleaming, the bed sunken beneath her like a conquered battlefield. Her breath was still ragged, her body heaving slightly, belly sprawled and trembling with every breath. He knelt beside her, hands gentle now, reverent, caressing the swell of her side. His cock still twitched with aftershocks, but now it wasn’t about sex—it was about devotion. “You alright?” he murmured. “Mmm,” she hummed, stretching one leg lazily. Her belly shifted with the motion, rippling in heavy waves. “Felt you rearranging my guts. I need to recover after that.” He grinned, leaning over to kiss her shoulder. “I’ve got just the thing.” Ten minutes later, he returned from the kitchen with a tray that strained under its weight. Pancakes dripping in syrup and whipped cream. Chocolate croissants. Powdered donuts. Bacon, buttered toast, a milkshake so thick it barely moved in the glass. He placed it beside her, sat down with his legs under her enormous belly, and gently nudged her side. “Open up, goddess.” She turned her head lazily toward him, smiling at the sight, a purr rumbling in her throat. “You’re going to feed me? Now?” He took a donut and pressed it to her lips. “You said you needed your strength back.” Her lips parted, and he slid the donut in slowly, watching as her teeth sank into it, powdered sugar smearing her lips. She moaned around the bite, eyes fluttering. “Fffuck. That’s good.” He kept feeding her, one sweet, sticky bite after another, alternating pastries and syrupy pancakes. She chewed with abandon, belly already starting to swell further, pressing heavier into his lap as she let herself be fed without restraint. His fingers grazed her lips when she finished each mouthful, and he kissed the frosting off her cheek between bites. “Oh my god,” she groaned eventually, shifting as he fed her a third stacked pancake drowned in cream. “I can feel it. My belly’s tight. You’re stuffing me too fast.” “You’re not full,” he whispered, taking a strip of bacon and feeding her again. “Not yet. I want to see your belly so full it can’t stop moving. I want to hear it gurgle and strain.” Her eyes rolled back. “You’re evil.” And he was. He pushed on, feeding her bite after bite, watching her cheeks puff with each swallow, watching her belly rise. It had been full before—but now it began to distend, stretching tight under the skin, growing rounder, harder. Her breathing hitched slightly as the food settled, expanding inside her, stretching her to the brink. She burped—loud, surprised—and flushed with a hiccup. Her eyes widened. “Shit,” she gasped. “That—hah—was a big one.” He smiled and kissed her belly, tongue tracing a stretch mark. “Good. That means we’re getting somewhere.” Her belly surged outward again with another bite, and this time when she burped, it echoed through the room. “Oof—fuck—I’m gonna pop.” “You’re not done.” He kept going until the last of the milkshake was drained. Her belly was a dome now, tight and twitching, pulsing with every hiccup. She lay back, arms sprawled, panting. “I can’t move,” she whimpered. “My belly—oh my god, I’m huge. I can feel it pressing into my lungs.” He knelt beside her, hands reverent again, stroking her overstuffed gut. It gurgled beneath his palms, sloshing faintly. “I love you like this,” he whispered. “So stuffed you can’t even sit up. Just lying there, helpless and full, belly begging for attention.” She hiccuped again, groaning. “Touch it. Please. Rub it.” He obeyed, hands spreading wide over her round middle. It was taut now, the softness giving way to the firmness of a gut filled past capacity. He stroked slow circles, pressing gently to help ease the pressure, listening to her moan with each touch. Her burps kept coming—wet, involuntary, broken by hiccups. He kissed every inch of her belly, mouthing the top, licking a long line down the crease where it met her thigh, whispering between kisses. “You’re everything. You’re more than a woman. You’re a goddess of gluttony, a queen of excess. And this belly—” he pressed both hands flat on her—“this is your throne.” She sighed, hiccuped, and her eyes fluttered shut. “Keep rubbing,” she slurred. “Feels so good. Don’t stop. Even if I fall asleep.” “I won’t stop,” he whispered. “Not until you’re dreaming.” And she did. She fell asleep as he massaged her stretched, overfed belly, her hiccups softening into occasional burps, her breath slow and steady beneath his hands. He kissed her again—once, deeply—then lay his cheek against her belly, listening to it groan and churn, smiling to himself in the dim glow of the room. He had never loved anything more than this. ******* The next morning: The sun hadn’t yet crested the horizon, but the room was already warm—suffused with the gentle heat of her body, the lingering scent of syrup and sex, and the low gurgle of digestion rumbling through her vast, heavy belly. The sheets had tangled around her hips sometime in the night, abandoned and bunched beneath her, and her body had sprawled wide across the bed like a conquered landscape. She was still asleep. Mouth slightly open, cheek pressed into the pillow, one arm curled under her head. Her long, labored breaths rose and fell in rhythm with the slow churn of food inside her. But he was very much awake. And hard. He lay next to her, watching her belly rise and fall like a tide, the skin stretched impossibly tight from last night’s indulgence. The top of her gut peeked up like a soft hill, resting against the curve of her breasts, while the lower portion spilled out to the sides, pressing outward over her thighs and toward him like a gravitational force. He couldn’t resist. He never could. He reached out slowly, reverently, and laid his palm on the top of her stomach. Still warm. Still full. Still letting out the occasional quiet glorrrnk as her body worked through the obscene amount of food he’d stuffed into her. She stirred slightly, murmuring something slurred, unintelligible, her thigh twitching under the sheets. But she didn’t wake. Just shifted, her belly sloshing softly with the motion. His breath caught. He slid down the bed, positioning himself between her legs—not to enter her, not yet—but to kneel before the altar of her stomach. Her belly was taut this morning, firmer than the night before. Her skin was stretched so tight that her navel had become a deep, shadowed crater, surrounded by red marks of pressure. His cock throbbed just from looking at it. He pressed a kiss to the top, then another to the side, and then buried his face into the middle, breathing her in. Sugar. Sweat. That unique, intimate scent of Kimberly. She stirred again, exhaling a soft, confused moan. His cock was already dripping, aching. He scooted forward and, with both hands, grabbed the sides of her belly and lifted—just enough to create a warm, heavy fold at the base. The underside was slick with night sweat, soft and decadent and hot. Perfect. He slid his cock between the fold. “Mm—nnh?” she murmured, eyelids twitching. He began to thrust. Slow at first. Shallow, respectful strokes, just enough to let his shaft glide between the moist heat of her belly fold. The friction was divine. Her fat gripped him just right, soft enough to feel engulfed, tight enough to tease every nerve along his length. “Belly…” he whispered, losing himself. “So full. So perfect…” Kimberly stirred more visibly now. Her thighs shifted. One hand reached lazily down to her stomach, fingers brushing his wrist. “Hnn… what’re you… oh…” Her voice was still thick with sleep, groggy and indulgent. But she didn’t stop him. Her hand moved to rest on her gut, fingers splaying out across the taut curve. “You’re fucking my belly?” she slurred, barely coherent. “Yes,” he gasped, thrusting deeper now, hips jerking, sweat beading on his brow. “You’re so fucking huge, Kimberly. I had to. It was begging for it. You’re still stuffed, still gurgling—I had to worship it.” Her mouth curved into a slow, sleepy smile. Eyes still half-lidded, she tilted her head toward him. “You’re such a filthy little bellyboy.” “I am,” he whispered. “I need you like this.” She gave a long, low burp without warning, groaning softly as she shifted her weight. The motion sent a tremor through her belly, jiggling around his cock, and he nearly came right then. “Oh fuck,” he whimpered. “That turn you on?” she teased, voice thick and sleepy. “Me belching up last night’s feast while you hump my gut?” “Yes,” he gasped. “God, yes.” “Then do it right,” she murmured. “Grab it. Bounce it. Fuck it harder.” He obeyed with trembling hands. Gripping her belly in both palms, he bounced it gently, then harder, watching the ripples spread like waves. His cock slid faster between the folds, slick with precum, with her warmth, with sweat. The sound of his hips slapping against her skin was obscene. Her belly bounced with each thrust, slapping against her thighs, against his arms. “Use it,” she whispered, one eye cracking open to watch him. “That’s what it’s there for. A fat, overfed gut—perfect for worship. You want to come? Come on it.” He couldn’t hold back. His thrusts turned erratic, jerky, his whole body tensing as the pressure inside him crested. One more slam into her belly fold, and he exploded—hot ropes of cum spurting across the underside of her gut, spilling down between her folds, streaking her skin in sticky praise. He collapsed against her, face buried in the swell of her belly, panting, kissing it over and over. She yawned. “You’re disgusting,” she murmured lovingly, stroking his hair. “I know,” he whispered. “And you love it.” “I do,” she said, belching once more before curling around him, belly still gurgling beneath his cheek. They dozed like that, his cum slowly drying on her skin, her belly rising and falling with slow, contented rhythm, reigning supreme over them both. ******* The water steamed thick from behind the curtain, fogging the mirror, curling around the ceiling like mist off a hot spring. Kimberly stood in the center of the stall, her massive form dominating the space. The water poured down over her from the wide rainfall head above—cascading across her shoulders, sluicing between the heavy hang of her breasts, streaming in rivulets down the towering slope of her belly. She was swaying gently, arms loose at her sides, humming some tune from a commercial—something aimless and soft as she rocked her hips under the flow. The tiles groaned faintly beneath her shifting weight. Behind her, he pushed the door open slowly, blinking at the steam, cock already perking up just from the silhouette of her through the fog. Every inch of her glistened. Her belly shone with rivulets that caught the light, her hips wide and rolling like hills, her ass swallowing most of the built-in bench she was half-leaning against. “You’re just gonna stand there and stare?” she called, voice languid, teasing. “Wouldn’t you?” he answered, stepping inside, letting the water hit him like a sheet of warm silk. She cracked an eye at him over her shoulder. “Thought you’d be too sore after this morning’s little belly fuck.” “I don’t think I could ever get sore from that,” he murmured, stepping closer. His hands found the curve of her hips immediately, fingers sinking in where flesh was thickest. Kimberly leaned forward slightly, letting her belly sway outward, the underside now catching the full stream. She moaned softly at the sensation. “Mmm… god, that’s good. My belly’s still sore from last night. You really stuffed me to hell.” He reached around her from behind, hands cradling the underside of her belly, letting the water run between their arms. “Still digesting?” She laughed, burping softly, then groaned. “Mmhm. Feel it churning. I’m gonna be hungry again in twenty minutes, guaranteed.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, dragging his lips down across her back, kissing over every dimple, every roll. “Then I’ll feed you again. Right here in the shower, if I have to.” “Oh, you’d like that, huh?” she purred. “Shove pastries down my throat while the water runs, while my belly’s hanging heavy and wet?” He didn’t even need to answer. His hands said everything—palming her front, lifting the weight of her belly, letting it slap back down with a wet, satisfying wobble. She groaned again. He slid down to his knees behind her, pressing his face into the bottom of her belly. It was slick and hot, heavier than ever, sloshing faintly with every breath she took. “You love this belly,” she murmured, eyes fluttering closed. “You worship it like it’s a fucking shrine.” “It is a shrine,” he whispered, kissing deep into her navel. “This is the softest, hungriest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” She let him kiss and lick and suck every inch the water didn’t already claim. His hands slipped under to cup the base, lifting it just enough to nestle his face in the warm, soft crevices. Her skin steamed under his breath, flesh radiant with heat and weight and indulgence. “Ohh fuck,” she moaned as he bit lightly, then soothed the mark with his tongue. “Careful. I’m still full.” “Not full enough,” he growled, pressing his cheek against her belly. “You’ll never be full enough for me.” She reached down lazily, brushing his hair back, guiding him to her breasts. “Clean me, worship me. Every fold, every inch.” He obeyed—sponge in one hand, mouth working over the other side. He washed her slowly, reverently. Under her breasts, between them. Along the underhang of her belly, lifting it gently to scrub underneath where sweat and soap mingled. He licked where the sponge didn’t reach. He kissed the stretch marks. He whispered praise into her skin. “You’re divine,” he whispered. “My beautiful, greedy goddess.” She burped again, content. “Damn right I am.” The water kept running, and they never noticed how long the hot tank lasted—because she didn’t stop swaying, and he didn’t stop touching, and they didn’t stop smiling once. ******* The car rumbled softly beneath them, humming idle in the shade of a parking lot tree, air conditioning doing its best to cut through the sun-drenched heat. Kimberly sat reclined in the passenger seat, legs spread lazily, belly pushed up by the seatbelt so that it bulged up toward her breasts. Her hair was tied back in a loose bun, face flushed from the heat and from the effort of waddling out to the car in too-tight leggings that dug into her hips with every step. But it wasn’t the weather making her squirm. It was hunger. She hadn't even finished buckling herself in when her stomach had started growling—long, aggressive snarls of protest that rippled through the car interior. Loud. Demanding. Unapologetic. And he had heard it. "You’re hungry again already?” he teased, watching her belly rumble as it shifted. “You’re still digesting breakfast.” She shot him a glare so sultry it could’ve melted through the dashboard. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t want this.” He absolutely did. He drove them straight to the drive-thru—the greasiest one. The kind with portions that should be illegal and milkshakes thick enough to slow time. He ordered enough food for four people without even blinking. Extra cheese. Double bacon. A bag heavy with calories. A milkshake in each cupholder. Grease blooming through the bottom of the bag by the time he handed it over to her lap. The moment the bag touched her thighs, her hands were already inside. She moaned before the first bite even reached her lips. “Mmmfffuck—yes. Yes—this is what I needed.” He parked the car in the far corner of the lot, half-shadowed by an overgrown bush, mostly out of sight—mostly. The windows were cracked, but tinted. His cock twitched in his shorts as she devoured a double cheeseburger with both hands, sauce dripping onto her shelf of a belly. She didn’t stop to wipe it. She didn’t pause. By the time she hit the fries, she was full enough to grunt after every few mouthfuls, shifting her weight as her stomach began to bloat again, pressing even harder into the taut fabric of her leggings. A long, wet belch shook the car. “Fuuuuck,” she groaned. “It hurts.” He glanced over. “Want to stop?” Her eyes gleamed. “Fuck no. Pass me the onion rings.” He obeyed like the good bellyboy he was, his hand trembling slightly as he handed them over. She stuffed her cheeks, her breathing shallow now, belly visibly pressing into the steering wheel despite being in the passenger seat. Her hiccups started again. She winced, but still reached for the milkshake. Chugged. Groaned. The cup dropped from her hand, empty. And she just lay back, arms limp, moaning as her stomach surged outward like a monument to gluttony. “You fed me too well,” she slurred. “God, I’m gonna—” Another belch. She was practically vibrating with fullness. He couldn’t take it anymore. He reached over, unbuckling her with a quick click, and climbed between her knees, his face inches from the rise of her overfed belly. It was sweating, rounded tight, straining her waistband to its limit. He licked a trail of sauce from her lower belly up to her navel. “Right here?” she whispered, flushed. “There’s no one watching,” he lied. He yanked her leggings down enough to expose the base of her belly, her soaked panties beneath. She wasn’t even surprised when he freed his cock—hard and twitching—and began thrusting into the folds of her belly. The pressure of it, the weight, the give of soft, full flesh around him was better than anything. Kimberly moaned—guttural, unfiltered. She couldn’t move much—couldn’t even lift her arms—but she rolled her hips as much as her bloated body allowed, letting her folds bounce, letting her belly slap against his chest with every thrust. “Fuck—fuck—do it. Use me. Use my fat belly,” she panted. “You love how big I’ve gotten, don’t you? You love fucking what you created.” He did. Every slap of her belly sent a wave through his body. People could definitely see now if they looked hard enough—but neither of them cared. Her burps were coming faster. She hiccuped between moans, belly twitching, jiggling violently under his grip. He came hard—violently—spurting all over her folds, her belly, his cum mixing with the sauce and sweat and salt of her feast. She giggled breathlessly, hiccuping through the afterglow. “I can’t move,” she laughed. “I’m gonna burst.” He kissed her belly. Then again. Then deeper, burying his face as her hands weakly reached to stroke his hair. “Wait ‘til dinner,” she whispered, eyes half-closed. “I’m gonna need you to feed me harder.” ******* The house door clicked open, and Kimberly stumbled in ahead of him, one arm against the wall for balance, the other cradling the grotesque swell of her gut like it might fall off her body from sheer overindulgence. Her belly had never been this big. Not even last Thanksgiving. The weight of it pulled her forward, each step a wobble, her thighs brushing so tight the fabric squeaked. Her leggings were soaked with sweat and streaked where sauces had spilled, the waistband now an angry red ring buried deep in her skin. She paused in the hallway, belched long and low, then groaned aloud. “Oh my god, I think my belly’s gonna explode…” He was right behind her, one hand at the small of her back, whispering encouragement. “Not yet. I’m not done feeding you.” Kimberly whimpered, swaying on her feet. “I can’t. You’ll kill me.” “No. I’ll grow you,” he murmured, guiding her into the kitchen with one palm under her gut, hefting it enough to help her walk. The heft made her moan, her legs shivering. The kitchen was already prepped—he’d done it earlier. Boxes of sweets, leftover pasta, oil-slicked garlic bread, cake slices, bowls of syrup-drenched fruit. All of it on the counter. All of it waiting. He sat her down—no, propped her up—in the kitchen chair, her belly draped over her knees, her feet spread wide to give her room. Her face was flushed, lips wet and parted, her whole body already trembling. And he got to work. One hand under her chin. The other picking up the first slice of cake. He fed her slowly at first—bite after bite—pressing the fork past her swollen lips, coaxing her to chew. Her throat worked automatically, her eyes glazing over. He whispered between bites. “Good girl. My hungry girl. You’ve got more room. I know you do.” She moaned. Her breath came shallow. Her belly gurgled angrily. He moved faster. Garlic knots, one after another. Pasta dangling in oily loops down her chin. He spooned whipped cream directly into her mouth, pressed a chocolate bar between her lips before the cream was swallowed. Every time she hiccuped, he kissed her cheek. Every time she burped, he praised her. “Yes. Let it out. Make space.” Her belly surged forward, harder and tighter, high on her chest now. The skin gleamed red and shiny, stretched to the limits of physics, creaking faintly as she shifted. She was sweating, panting. She couldn’t even reach around it anymore. It slapped when she twitched. Finally, she slurred, “Please—please, I can’t—need release—I can’t breathe…” He stepped back. She gasped as he lifted her to her feet—barely. He guided her to the dining chair, turned it around, and bent her forward over it. Her belly dropped hard, slapping against her thighs like a living creature. It swung beneath her, massive, full, sloshy. She moaned like she was about to pass out. He ripped her leggings and panties down in one practiced motion, his cock already leaking. Her ass was huge, bouncing with every breath, her thighs trembling with strain, her fat jiggling with every shift. He stepped behind her, lined himself up, and slammed inside. She screamed. Her belly swung with the impact, slapping forward and back with each thrust. Her hands gripped the chair’s backrest for dear life, her knuckles white. Her moans were broken now—panting, desperate, ragged. “Too much—too much—I’m gonna burst—” “You’re gonna take it,” he growled, slamming into her harder, faster. “This is what your belly’s for. To be filled. Fucked. Worshipped.” Her whole body shook. The sound of skin on skin filled the room—wet, frantic, obscene. Her belly bounced wildly with every thrust, the weight of it shaking her core. She burped again. Louder. Then hiccuped. Then screamed, her orgasm ripping through her like a wave of thunder. Her body convulsed, her belly bouncing out of control. He followed her seconds later, grabbing her hips and slamming one last time, unloading deep, groaning her name into the sweat-soaked air. She collapsed onto the chair, gasping, eyes fluttering. Her belly gurgled angrily—too full, overstimulated. And he dropped to his knees, kissed it all over, whispering, “I’ll rub it until you fall asleep. Just like before.” Kimberly didn’t even answer. She just burped again. And smiled. ******* The next morning: The morning light filtered through the half-closed blinds, casting soft golden stripes over the tangled sheets and the mountain of flesh dozing heavily beneath them. Kimberly stirred, a low, half-conscious murmur slipping from her parted lips as she stretched—slow, groggy, careful. Her hands immediately went to her belly, instinctively cupping the heavy dome still stretched tight from the night before. It was warm, solid, and gurgling faintly under her fingertips, the sloshing weight shifting with every small movement. She blinked sleep from her eyes and turned her head. He was already awake, propped up on one elbow beside her, just watching her. “Morning,” she mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. He smiled, his hand drifting under the covers to rest on the side of her belly, fingers spreading wide to feel how far it still pushed out. “Still full?” “Stuffed.” She winced a little and puffed out a sigh. “I think I can feel cake in my lungs.” He chuckled low, leaning in to press a kiss just under her collarbone, then another lower—right on the crest of her belly. “You said you wanted to be pushed. Guess I took that personally.” She snorted, but the sound turned into a moan as he nuzzled into her skin. “You did more than push...” He pulled back the covers and took her in—her bare body, heavy and lush and still glistening faintly with last night’s sweat. Her stomach domed over her lap, straining red and taut, skin glimmering with oil and tension. She was beautiful in a way that took effort to absorb—raw, unfiltered, too much and too perfect at the same time. His hand slipped down between her thighs. She sighed, not stopping him, though her limbs were limp and lazy. “Mmph. You’re really trying to start something now?” “I know you’re not saying no.” And she wasn’t. He shifted lower on the bed and guided her gently onto her side—her massive belly flopping forward with the movement, landing with a heavy thud against the mattress. She whimpered at the pressure shift, but didn’t resist. One of her legs draped over his thigh lazily as he pressed closer. “I’m still half-asleep,” she muttered. “Exactly how I like you.” His fingers traced slow circles on the underside of her belly, following every wrinkle, every curve and fold stretched taut. Then, with deliberate care, he pressed himself against her—the contact warm, familiar, and needy. He eased himself between her thighs and began to thrust slowly, hips rocking into the soft warmth of her flesh, finding friction in the softness of her overhang, her folds, the weight of her gluttonous form cradling him. She didn’t even have to move. He did the work. He breathed against her neck, voice thick: “You feel like sin. I could spend my whole life lost in this body.” She only moaned softly in return, eyes fluttering closed again, too content and too sore to do anything but feel. Her belly jiggled with every motion, swaying against the mattress, her body rocked gently back and forth by his rhythm. It didn’t last long. He was too hard, too worked up, and she was too soft not to drive him insane. He groaned as he came, clutching at her belly like it was an anchor in stormy seas, gasping her name into her hair. She chuckled lazily after, eyes still shut. “You’re addicted.” “Completely.” He slid down beside her again, spooning the curve of her ass, his arm flung possessively across the curve of her middle. They lay there in silence for a while, the house quiet save for the creaks of wood and the distant tick of the oven clock. And then she said it. “…I want pancakes.” He blinked. “You serious?” Kimberly smiled slowly. “I think I’m starving again.” ******* By the time they made it down the stairs, Kimberly’s steps were slow, deliberate, each movement exaggerated by the sheer fullness she still carried from the night before. Her belly bowed in front of her, heavy and insistent, sloshing gently with every motion, a constant presence swaying between her thighs. She wore nothing but a stretched-out pair of shorts that dug faint pink indents into her hips and an oversized tank top that barely covered the underside of her gut. Every breath she took came with a faint, wheezing effort, but there was a sparkle in her eyes—a hunger rekindled. He trailed behind her, practically hypnotized by the sight of her from behind—her thighs rubbing together with a slow, deliberate friction, her hips rocking side to side with the inertia of her weight. Her belly hung low even from the back, peeking out from under the shirt in thick, pale curves that jiggled with every padded step toward the kitchen. She paused at the island counter, leaned forward with both hands to brace herself, and let out a long, groaning exhale as her gut sagged forward, touching the cool edge of the marble surface. She patted it with both hands, massaging gently. “Think I’ve still got room if it’s sweet.” He was already at the stove, cracking eggs and pouring batter into the skillet, the scent of butter and maple syrup beginning to fill the room. “You always have room.” “Don’t tease me,” she said, grinning through a yawn. “Not when you cook like that.” As the pancakes sizzled, he moved over to where she stood, wrapped his arms from behind her, hands reaching around the great curve of her belly. He kissed her shoulder, then her neck, and gently rocked his hips into her soft backside. She giggled. “Don’t you dare—food first. I swear, if I pass out from hunger in your arms, it’ll be the most embarrassing obituary.” He smirked and stepped back to finish plating: three towering stacks of pancakes drowned in butter and syrup, a side of sausage links and hash browns, a tall glass of chocolate milk. “Chair,” she muttered, pointing. He brought over the extra-wide reinforced one, and helped her lower herself down into it. The wood creaked under her, her thighs spreading wide, her belly resting heavily in her lap. She leaned back, breathing deep, already licking her lips. As he set the plate before her, she gave him a look—needy, eager, impatient. “Feed me.” He picked up the fork. The first bite disappeared past her lips with a low moan. The second, she chased with the chocolate milk. The third, she didn’t even chew all the way. Her stomach pushed forward against the table’s edge, swallowing space as he worked bite after bite between her lips, wiping her chin between mouthfuls. “Too good,” she groaned, eyes half-lidded. “It’s… it’s too good, babe.” He knelt beside her, hand stroking the curve of her belly, feeling it tighten, thicken, balloon just that bit fuller with every swallowed bite. It started to gurgle faintly, a warm, bloated sound from deep within her gut. She shifted uncomfortably, but her hands stayed on the fork now, feeding herself in lazy, continuous rhythm. By the time the last bite was gone, her chest was heaving, her tank top ridden up to expose the entire bottom hemisphere of her gut, which now surged forward like a mountain of dough. She let out a tremendous belch without shame and blinked dazedly down at herself. “You’re… you’re gonna have to carry me.” He smiled, leaned in, and pressed his lips to her navel. “You’re not going anywhere.”

help me get fatter 136.9kg

I was feeling pretty good after our session, but I think I needed more. My lust overtakes me and I look back down at you: helpless on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. I just couldn’t be finished with you, not yet. I walked back down while you hug your stomach; it seems like you don’t notice me because you aren’t staring in my direction, but I get back down and I use one leg to turn you over so you are laying on your back, facing up at me. “I think you’ve been spending too much time down here, babe. Why not meet the rest of the company?” I say. I then reach down at your shirt and literally rip it off of you. You don’t even fight me because you know you’ll lose. I then move down and start to strip your pants, finally taking away all of your dignity by leaving you in nothing but your underwear. “Let’s go meet the higher-ups.” Next I lift you over my shoulder once more, draping you across like a scarf. We then hike back up the stairs once more and just like before, I dig my feet into each step I take and your stomach gets pressed in deeply to my shoulder with each one. As we reach the top of the stairs, I toss you into the elevator and leave you on the floor as I step in and hit the button for the floor of the cafeteria. “I think it’s time I get something to eat. Gotta keep up my strength right?” I chuckle as I look down at you. “Celia, I don’t think I can take anymore.” You make out with a hoarse voice. “Oh quiet you. You should know by now that you can’t stop me and I can do whatever I want. In fact…” I then decide that, since this elevator ride is a little slow, that I need a seat. I walk over to you on the floor with each of my feet on either side of your frame and squat down onto you with my thick thighs splayed out in front me while they surround your head. “Just be a good boy and sit there, please.” I say playfully. I can tell that you want to say something, but before you start, I close my legs together and my thighs completely squash your face. I can tell that I’m completely covering your entire upper body. I feel your legs start to kick and you bring your knees up and try to knee my backside, but it’s no use. My fat is like soft armor that protects me, let alone the fact that I just have much more muscle than you too. I feel your knees continue to jab me lightly, but I take it all very easily, receiving no damage at all. I open my legs again and you’re just panting for breath. “See?” I say, “I encourage you to try and struggle, but you should know that it won’t get you anywhere.” I then bring my legs in and squat back up, reach down and take you with me over my shoulder once again. We arrive on our floor. It’s around lunch time now and the cafeteria that I eat at is for the executives. Even among them, I’m top dog though. They already know about my, “activities” with the lower level employees. I bring you over to the lunch counter and order my food. The man behind the counter is looking at me with a scared look because he doesn’t want to be next. “Right away miss!” He takes down my order and runs to make it. “Celia! Hey there!” I turn around and it’s three of my coworkers all staring at you. The two women who didn’t say anything yet are just looking at you, almost like they are about to laugh. They probably find it pathetic how easily I can dominate you. “Hey there guys. Good numbers this week, right?” I chat with them. We talk for a while, the whole time with you on my shoulder. “Oh! How silly of me, I forgot to introduce you guys to our IT department. He would say hello to you if my muscle wasn’t digging into his ribcage, haha!” I gesture to the group while they laugh in amusement as well. “Hey guys, watch this…” I say. I then go over to one of the chairs and climb up on it, keeping a firm grip on you over my shoulder. “This guy is little, but also so strong!” I then jump down off the chair and land on my two feet with a huge impact that almost feels like it shakes the room. And with that impact, I feel one of your ribs pop as soon as I land. It was bad enough when I would take deep steps, but jumping down from two feet? I can’t imagine how much pressure went on you just then! You almost feel like you are about to throw up, like a professional fighter just gut punched you, but all you do is gasp and groan. “Oh quiet you!” I snap in your direction, “Seriously guys, he’s just been making noises all day. Little man can’t hold his own against a dainty woman like me, haha!” You just feel utterly humiliated all the while my coworkers continue to laugh along with me. I was always glad that they are just as amused with my “hobby” as I am. Noticing that my lunch is ready I say to the group, “Okay guys, gotta get back to the old grind.” I grab my food and head out to my office, still keeping you hoisted on my shoulder. It doesn’t even feel like you’re fighting anymore. I do like it when you struggle, but I can’t exactly blame you with all the damage you’ve taken. Not that I feel bad enough to let you go free. As I near my office, I find Stacey. She’s my secretary and also a BBW, but still not MY size. She is about 4 inches shorter than me, doesn’t have much tit size to speak of, but her belly has quite a bit of heft. I would say I still outweigh her by 120 pounds, but that doesn’t mean she’s small. I actually hired her because I thought she would want to join me in my squashing and carrying endeavors, but truth be told, she’s actually been more annoying and judgmental than anything else. She always says the same thing when I bring a tiny man to my office, “Oh dear, Miss Celia, another one?” She said, interrupting my thoughts. Her nerdy glasses coming down her face, I almost feel a bit disappointed in her. It really is us plus size women who should run the world, but it’s girls like her who hold us back. Don’t get me wrong, she isn’t ugly by any means, it’s just her attitude. Girl needs more spine. I give out a bated sigh as she says her judgmental piece to me. “Yes, Stacey. Another one. Now do you want to help me crush this little guy and get to see where I’m coming from with all of this?” “Oh no! I couldn’t possibly Miss Celia. I like your confidence, but I’m just not the type to-“ “Then screen my calls for the rest of the day, kid. Don’t ruin this for me.” I snap back at her. She quickly rushes back to her chair and gets to work. At least she does her actual job well. I walk in and place you and my food on the desk. “Phew, I didn’t realize how long I was holding you until just now. I’m slightly out of breath.” I then lean over and look you in the eyes, “but only just slightly.” I wink. I decide to make myself comfortable and begin to undress and I can see you noticing me. I bet you love seeing my curves and voluptuous body, why not give you more of it? I get down to my bra and panties and I reach into a drawer of a filing cabinet. You see me turn around after obtaining what I grabbed and it turns out to be…. rope. “I need a better table to finish my meal. YOU are going to be that table.” “Celia, wait. Can’t you let me rest while you eat? I have no more strength.” You plead with me. “Mmmm still resisting. I like it.” Completely ignoring you. Having a goddess-like body, you tend to figure out creative ways to squash and crush little victims. I have thought of doing one specific way to you that also allows me to relax while doing it. Even a powerful beauty like me needs to rest sometimes, right? I turn you on your stomach on the desk so your face is facing where my chair is and your legs hang off the front. Basically looking like you are bent over my desk, which does make you look good while you are in underwear, I admit. I take a seat in my chair and wheel it over to you, “Take a good deep breath, hon. I like to eat my lunch slowly.” I warn you. You finally figure out what the rope is for as I begin to wrap it around your head and then around my waist. As wide as I am, I have enough rope to get it around me. I then bring it around tighter, I hear you taking your air in, and within that moment I pull the rope with one hand and pull your head into my belly with the other completely smothering your head in my fat. “Mmmm this is really nice,” you hear me say as I adjust and squirm a little, this ordeal making me a bit sweaty. As hot as I may feel though, it is time for me to eat. I take my food container and place it on your back, open it up and take a good whiff. “Wow that smells really good. That executive cafeteria sure knows what they’re doing.” I start digging in, I do like to eat diligently and cleanly, I prefer taking the time to enjoy quality food to appreciate it more. But, this thought goes away as I feel you start to turn your head and whimper a bit. “Hey, what’s wrong down there? I’m trying to enjoy my meal!” I demand. I push your shoulder down with one hand, but you still keep struggling and it seems like you are starting to panic. “Are you serious right now? It’s only been half my meal and you’re running out of air? Jesus, I’m gonna make you take up swimming or something. You gotta learn to-“ and just before I can finish my insult, you buck your feet off the ground, raising your hips, which in turn, launches the container still half filled with food, right onto my face. I’m now covered in sauces and discarded food, totally covering my beautiful face. Remember how I said I like to be clean with my food? I’m sure you can guess what’s going to happen now… You still struggle, but you feel me start to untie you so you are able to calm down a little bit at least. I finally am done and you release your face with a sharp desperate gasp. Nothing is said while you still lay your upper body on the table, gasping for air, but you notice that I haven’t said a word for the last minute and this scares you. As well it should. After getting some energy back, you lift your head up and look at me and then go white with fear. You finally figured out what you did as you see me and my death stare which is covered in what used to be my lunch. “Okay, Celia…hold on a second. I was about to pass out! You can’t blame me for that!” You are practically begging for your life at this point. Without taking my eyes off you or saying anything, I stand up, grab your arm, and lift you on the desk so that your body is now facing length ways. Fear has set in and you don’t even try to move away or fight. I step up on my chair, then onto the desk with my feet on either side of you. I am standing directly next to your waist with me facing down towards your feet. All you can see is the back of my body towering over you. My thick thighs, each one bigger than your waist then traveling up to the most gorgeous ass you’ve ever seen. You can tell that there is an abundance of muscle underneath my soft curves. You generally can appreciate the beauty of my thighs and ass, but now, in this position, you can only see them as weapons. “Listen to me, hon.” I say softly. “I’m a goddess, and as such, I need to stay clean and hygienic. Just now, you’ve undone that. What do you think any other goddess would do in this situation? No, don’t answer that. Let me just show you instead!!!” And as soon as I’m done, raising my voice, I jump up slightly and kick my legs out in front of me. It looked like everything was going in slow motion for you as you feared for your safety. You saw all the ripples in my thick thighs and gigantic behind, the way my muscles operated as I used them to jump up. But just as you get out of your trance, the giant impact of my butt happens and lands on your stomach. You want to let out a giant yell, but it hurt so much that you weren’t even capable. There is a loud crashing sound as I hit my industrial strength desk with you under me. “Mmmm now THAT was kinda hot. But it’s time for the real punishment.” I say. You seem confused as if that monumental butt drop wasn’t punishment enough. But I lean back down on you, covering your face with my back fat and just resting on top of you. As I do this, I grab a napkin and start cleaning my face off, all the while, feeling you struggling beneath me. “It’s no use fighting me off this way, babe.” I talk, “I’m laying my full weight entirely upon your pathetic body.” I toss the napkin away, getting most of the food off of me. “I just love feeling you struggle. So helpless against all my fat. Our size difference is enormous. It turns me on so much, actually…” You keep trying as desperately as you can to fight for an ounce of air, but it does nothing except entice my lust a bit further. “There’s nothing you can do here. I’m just so much bigger than you! I can feel your tiny body being compressed into the desk. It feels so good to me…” I give out a sigh. I almost have half a mind to reach down into my panties and start something a bit hotter while I’m in this position, but I notice your struggles start to die down and it’s clear you are at the verge of passing out. You feel light headed but still panicked as if this is the end. But, I certainly don’t want to kill you, just want to crush you a little bit, because you’re my toy. You wouldn’t be any good to me dead. “Alright, I think you get the idea.” I then lift up and roll off of you. You give out a series of shallow breaths, which is about all you can get. And in the moment the light of the office hits you, you start to get a headache. You were so close to passing out that time. For what you did, maybe I should have let you? “Okay, bitch boy, you can say sorry now.” I demand. “S…. Sor…… sss……” is about all you can make out. “Jesus, okay if you won’t apologize,” I walk back over to you and lift my belly up like I’m about to drop it down on your face. “Sss… sorry! Sorry….” You make the words out as you see the bottom of my destructive belly looming over your head. I then back off and release it back down. You give out a big sigh of relief, although you still can’t move or talk much. “Okay, that’s good enough I suppose. Now look, I have to redo my makeup because SOMEBODY got my face a mess. I’m going to the bathroom so I’ll be right back.” I walk over to my executive washroom that’s within my office and open the door. “Oh and I know this goes without saying, but don’t run away, ‘Kay?” I let out a playful giggle as I enter the bathroom. You aren’t too sure what to do now. If you leave you’ll lose your job, but if you stay, you will definitely get crushed some more. As you are juggling with the choices, you hear the door to the office open and it’s… Stacey? “Hey- hey there.” She whispers awkwardly. “Come here.” She motions to you to come over. You look at her with some disbelief and give her a face that says, “I just got the shit kicked out of me, how am I supposed to go over there?” She gets the hint after a second, “Oh! Right! Sorry!” She stumbles inside with very little grace and stands over you. “Listen, I’m gonna get you out of here. Miss Celia can get a little, eccentric with her boy toys. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Stacey explains. “It seems a bit late for that…” you say sarcastically. “Okay, so I’m going to try to pick you up, here, place your arm over my shoulder like this and umm, I’ll carry you like that…” as Stacey continues to talk to herself, she clearly doesn’t hear me come up from behind you guys and I stand directly behind her with only a foot of space between me and the awkward fat girl. Stacey finally seems to feel the presence behind her and she slowly turns around to see my boobs since I’m a bit taller than her. She looks up at me and gives an slight chuckle smile. “Hey there Stacey. I forgot to get my purse with my makeup in it.” I say calmly, staring daggers into her eyes. “Oh, I can get it for you Miss Celia… in fact! That’s why I’m in here!” As soon as she’s done with her pathetic excuses, I bring my hips back and thrust my belly forward, impacting her own. I can tell there is a major difference between belly bumping you and a BBW, but I’m still bigger than her, which makes me the alpha in the room. Stacey falls backwards and then down onto the floor, also scared and now looking up at me. “Now then,” I say menacingly, “Let’s try something a bit different, shall we?”

The other day was very pleasant for me and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. Remember? When I squashed the shit out of you in my office? God, it was exhilarating. I mean, sure, there are other, “specimens,” I could easily find in this office building, but you were just so easy to control and dominate. I think I might have a bit of a, “crush,” on you. Since I am an executive, I figured it might be appropriate to visit some of the different departments in the building to get to know them better. Why not start with the IT department? I went to the elevator and pressed the button for floor one, but I still have to go down a flight of stairs for the basement. I knock on the door and I can hear your voice, talking to someone else. You open the door, only to see me and a lust-filled smile. “Hey there, this is the IT department, right?” Pretending not to know you. “Uhh... yeah...” you are just flabbergasted. I’m sure you didn’t expect to see me so soon. It has only been a couple of days. “Who is it?” Another voice from inside the office says. You try to answer, “Oh, it’s umm...” but I squeeze my hips through the door, brushing the door frame on each side and belly bump you inside playfully, staggering you backwards. “Oh! I’m sorry about that.” I give you a subtle wink. I then turn to the other side of the room to see a thin, young woman sitting at her desk, your colleague I presume? “Hello there young lady. I’m Celia, from the top floor. I figured it would be nice of me to visit the different departments and see if you needed anything.” I say. “Oh, that’s very good of you.” Your coworker turns to you, “She seems like a nice boss, right?” You feel very tense as you try to answer. Do you tell the truth, or play along? “Umm yeah... really nice...” I knew you didn’t have it in you. “Anyway,” I start, “There seems to be a problem on floor 6 with a handsome mans’ computer and he asked for someone down here to look at it.” “Wait!” Your coworker perks up. “A nice looking guy on 6? You mean, Kevin?” She seems very eager. “Yes! That’s his name.” I don’t even know who she’s talking about. She turns to you and begs to go up. “Please? I’ve been wanting an excuse to talk to him since I’ve started here and this might be it!” How can you say no to that cute face? “Well... I could go with you...?” You say, “Nonsense!” I interject, “you don’t want to mess up her chance with Kevin right? Besides, who else would show me the ins and outs of IT without you?” “Great!” Your coworker doesn’t seem to give it a second thought. “I’ll head up now then, wish me luck!” She grabs her bag and heads out of the office. Now, it’s just the two of us. “Well... uhh... I better get going too. Lots to do actually.” You say nervously. You go over to your desk, grab your bag and turn around to the door, only to find that I’ve maneuvered myself into the door frame, completely blocking your escape. “Why the rush?” I say softly. “Didn’t you miss me?” “Please, Celia... My ribs are still sore from last time. I can’t survive another round...” you plead. “Let’s make one thing clear,” I lecture you, “I’m the only one who makes the rules around here. Not only do I outrank you in career, you can’t even physically stop me. I’m both large and in charge haha!” You get a bit mad at me taunting you. You drop your bag and back up a bit, it looks like you’re gonna try to get a running start and barge into me. This ought to be interesting. You then charge and try to shoulder tackle into my belly in order to escape, you make your impact and rush into my large soft stomach, but it’s like running into a giant bouncy ball and you bounce off me. Since my hips are wedged in the door tightly and I weigh significantly more than you, I don’t budge a single inch. You bounce off of my huge frame and fall back on the floor. “Hahaha!” I give out a booming laugh. “Oh man, that was pretty funny. You do realize how much bigger than you I am, right? You would need three MORE of you to even have a chance to get me to move.” You sit up in some slight shock. You really thought that was going to work, which is one of the things I love about our game. You still think you have a chance to fight me off. “Alright, come over here, I need your help with something.” I say. You look a little confused but intrigued. You stand up and carefully walk over to me, still in the doorway. “I seem have gotten myself stuck, hon.” I reach my arms forward, presenting them to you. “I need you to pull me out, please...?” I asked with a cute face. You obviously don’t want to help me, but what can you do? This is literally the only way in or out so if you have a chance of escape, this is a time you HAVE to help me. You grab my hands and pull back. You are surprised though, because all of a sudden, I step forward and while keeping my eyes on you the whole time, I fall forward into you and then we both fall on the floor, with me landing on top of you with a loud thud! “Haha! Oh, I guess I didn’t actually need your help at all. My bad!” I say playfully. Since I’m a little taller, your entire head is smothered right in between my boobs while your whole torso is enveloped by my belly, resting on the floor of either side of you. You are trying to yell and push me off, but it can’t possibly be done. “Mmmm this is really nice. I always say that taking power naps during a workday can improve your productivity. What do you think? Should I lay here for a half hour or so?” I can only hear muffled screams in answer to it and feel you shaking your head within my massive cleavage. “Sorry hon, but I can’t hear you. All you have to say is, ‘please mistress, get your beautiful, fat ass off me,’ and I’ll get up.” I jokingly say. Your muffles start to die down a bit so you can conserve your energy. Instead, you try using your legs, but that isn’t proving to be useful either since my thick thighs are trapping them as well. I lay here for another half a minute before I finally decide to roll off of you. As soon as I do, you get a large gasp of breath in and hug your midsection. I imagine I damaged it quite a bit during our fall. “Mmm was that good for you, babe?” I say laying next to you and brushing your hair with my hand. “You.... you’re crazy. Why did you pick me?” You ask. “Why?” I say, I then move my hand down to your erection, “THIS is why. Stop pretending that you don’t like this, hon. Although, on the other hand, I like that you have some fight in you.” You don’t know what to say and before you figure anything out I interrupt, “Still won’t admit it, huh? Maybe you need a bigger sample?” “Wait! Celia I-“ it’s too late for you though, I was laying in a position where I could easily roll my belly and body back over onto you. I then move over onto the other side, steam rolling you. “Haha, just a little bit of pain. Come on, you can take it.” You want to scream out again, but I then steam roll over you in the opposite direction. I continue to roll back and forth on top of you, my belly, stretching out across your entire body every time and encasing you tightly in my fat. You extend your arms every time I’m coming over you, but my belly is far too heavy for your weak muscles. Your arms get crumpled down under my weight and you can only feel your chest compress inward, almost feeling like a little bit further down each time. I steam roll over you about ten times before I decide it’s enough, leaving you there, panting and gasping in a high pitch for breath and relief. “Oh god... that felt really good.” I bite my bottom lip while looking down at my prey. “I think it’s time I take a break though. Takes a lot of core strength to move this body back and forth like that.” You hear me saying this as if it’s a relief and break for you, but “fat,” chance of that happening. I stand up and reach down for you, you know from prior experience what’s about to happen as you feel my arms wrap around your midsection. You try your best to fight back since your arms are free as well, but you took way too much damage to be able to try anything that could have a possibility of working. “You know, sitting at a desk all day must be a killer on your back. What if I help you out with that with a good back crack?” I say, at which point, I increase the strength of my grip around you and the room is then filled with a combination of popping sounds and your groans of pain. I’ve lifted you up so high in a bear hug, you’re now taller than me, you try to reach for my arms to release you, but at this angle you can only slap my rolls of back fat. I feel this of course and love how desperate you are in your attempts to get out, the thought of me being so much fatter and stronger than you is just a real turn on for me. You couldn’t even bear hug me back, as I’m too wide, but here I am, pressing you into my belly extremely tight. It would almost look like my stomach could absorb you with how much strength I’m giving this one. As strong as I am though, I can’t hold you forever and I turn and walk with you back over to your desk, dropping you in it. You are sat at your desk with me eclipsing the light of the room over you. I’m about to speak when all of a sudden from the hallway, “Hey bud? You still here?” It’s your coworker from earlier! She’ll save you. You decide to try to call out for help since you don’t think you can take anymore, “Hey! I’m-“ but I had to think quickly and I sit down on top of you in a hurry before she even walks into the room. Your coworker then rounds the corner, only seeing me, sitting in your chair, with you nowhere else to be found. “Hey,” she says, “How’s the tour going?” “Oh, well your coworker is really something.” I say, taking a deep breath myself as I lean further back into the chair on top of you. “Oh good! Well I know he and I had plans to go to lunch, but I just asked Kevin to go and he said yes! Can you give him the message?” Your coworker doesn’t suspect a thing. I find it so hot that I can just crush you while someone else is here without them even noticing. Even I hesitate to answer since I’m so distracted, “Congrats! I’m glad Kevin said yes. But I’ll give your colleague the message. He’s a good one around here and I’m sure he’s fun to work with.” “Yeah, he’s a good guy, I really need him in this department so please don’t do anything to hurt him?” Your coworker says. “Don’t worry,” I wink at her, “you can count on me!” She then leaves with a smile and wave. She seems really nice to be honest. Maybe she’ll get crushed by me one day, but not today. I then lean forward when I hear her totally gone, “You still alive, little man?” I ask. You take your trademark deep breath in and cough a bit. I stand up, giving you some relief, but still standing right above you. “Okay, it’s time to admit it, hon.” I say. “Admit... what...” you ask in between bated breaths. “That me squashing and crushing you actually turns you on.” I reply. “Come on, that hard-on of yours was practically inside me while I was sitting on you.” I say with lust. “Look... I just work... in IT and want... to do my job...” you stutter your words. “Well that’s not an answer.” I reply and then immediately fall back on you. The chair gives a louder groan than you do as I plop down and lean further back on you. My back rolls smother your face and even as you turn away for air, you can only get very little of it. I bounce a little bit too, and my fat slaps you across the face in small increments. This time, your arms are free and I feel you trying to lift me off by grabbing around my waist. I look down and you aren’t even coming halfway around my hips. You barely reach and grab the sides of my belly as I sit on you and this comparison realization makes me even hotter. I feel your hard-on still and I can’t help but rock back and forth on it a little bit. Even the small movements just feel so good to me, you begin to panic a bit while I’m rocking and bouncing on top of you for a good two minutes. You can get air in, but just barely while my back rolls compress your face, covering your mouth and nose until I rock back forward again. After having my enjoyment, I stand up and turn down to you. “Was just as good for you as it was for me? Haha!” I taunt you. “Oh god. My legs are so sore!” You complain. “Yeah, well, you should have thought about that before asking to be my squash toy.” “What?! I never agreed! You just made me!” You retort. “Hmm yeah that’s true. Oh well haha!” I joke. “Alright, I think I’m good for the day, except... oh!” I check my watch, “you know, I did my 10,000 steps for the day, but I haven’t finished my flights of stairs and I only need ONE more. Hmmm...” I think looking at you. “No... Celia... for gods sake I can’t take anymore...” “Oh hush!” I snap back, “you’ll be fine. My legs are already so strong so I need some added weight when I exercise. Like it or not, you’re my added weight.” I then pick you up and drape you over my shoulder. “I mean, you don’t feel like much added weight, but you’ll do, I suppose.” You want to say something, but how could you convince me? You want to fight me off, but you know you aren’t strong enough. For today, you realize that I’ve won and I’m getting my way. You’ve given up your fight for now. “Alright, this set of stairs outside your office will do quite nicely.” I then squeeze my fat frame through the door with you on my shoulder, no easy task, but it gets done. I then begin my ascent. I stomp down on each step up and you feel every tremor and shock of recoil into my shoulder with it. It feels much more intense than the other day when I had you over my shoulder. Every step up feels like a gut punch from an amateur boxer as I get my feet pressing hard into each stair. I’m almost afraid that I’m going to crack the tile on the steps. Finally, we make it to the top and I say, “Okay, that wasn’t too bad. Not even out of breath. They say fat girls don’t exercise, but how else would be so good at squashing if I didn’t have any strength or stamina?” I hear you coughing a bit before saying anymore, “Alright, let’s make it even,” I juggle you up and place you on my other shoulder. “Time to go back down. I can’t imagine it’ll be any easier for you, hon. Before we go, I just wanna say, thanks. I had a lovely time. Hope we do this again soon!” I then start going down, trying my hardest to stomp down with exaggerated footfalls. Since I’m going down, my legs are traveling even further and the recoil on you from my shoulder feels like it’s increased double! Each step feels worse than the last as I also pick you up slightly with my arm and drop you back drop at the right times for maximum carrying. I can tell that you enjoy this, regardless of what you say so I’m trying to make it the best experience I can for you. After the final step, without saying anything I drop you on the floor, give a little laugh and walk back up to get to my office. I realize I don’t have to give you any warnings about saying anything to anyone. The consequences are implied, as well as the fact that this won’t be the last you see of me.

I have been thinking about you for the last few days. I wrestle a bit with the idea of bringing you up. Lest I forget, I’m higher up in the work food chain than you. You’re just in IT, but I’m an executive. I saw you for the first time a couple of days ago and I knew that I had to use you for my amusement. What could be better than a skinny new boy toy for me to play with? I call down to your department and hear your voice on the other end, “Hello, IT.” “Yes,” I start commandingly, “There’s an issue with my monitor. I need someone up here now.” “Well, what seems to be the nature of-“ “Didn’t you hear me?” I interrupt you. “I told you to come up here now.” I don’t like that you think you have a choice. “Yes Ma’am! Right away!” You hung that phone up pretty quickly. I sit my oversized ass in my oversized chair until you finally arrive, you seem out of breath. “Ah yes, finally. I need you to take a look at this monitor.” I say while standing up and walking over to you. I notice you staring at me, taking in my size. I walk up to you, you’re so tiny compared to me. Your head only comes up to my chin so not only do I have my weight, my height is also superior to your tiny form. I’m probably a good 4 times your size I reckon. After you spend a few seconds staring I say, “See anything you like?” and break you from your trance. “Oh! Uhh sorry ma’am.” You try to walk past me quickly, but when you get to my side, I hip check you. Its a playful bump on my end, but you being as small as you are compared to my size, lose your balance and fall to the floor. “Oops! Better watch your step.” I say playfully, giving you a wink. You scramble up and head over to the desk. As you do so, I close the door to my office giving me the privacy I need for some play time. “Hmm the monitor isn’t coming on at all,” you question. I walk back over to the desk while you sit down to check something under my desk. Right where I want you. “Okay,” you begin explaining. “It looks like, oh, it looks like you unplugged your monitor? But it’s pretty much fixed now.” You then motion back up from under the desk, seeing your dream, soon to be nightmare, come true. Me, facing away from you with my ass right in front of your face while you’re still sitting in my wide chair. Right where I want you. “Uhh... I think I should be-“ but it’s too late, right before you finish, I drop my large ass right on top of your lap, full weight. Your arms underneath my cheeks, struggling to get free. “Oh you’re so cute,” I say with a hint of lust. “Thinking that you can lift me off. Do you have any idea how heavy I am compared to you? Struggle all you want.” “Ma’am please!” You struggle to get the words out. “You’re too heavy, my legs-“ You get cut off by me leaning back against your chest and face. My back rolls, covering you completely, still glad I opted for the oversized chair that can still hold my weight. “You know, if anyone walked in right now, they wouldn’t even notice you under me haha!” I giggled to myself. I raise up from the chair listening to your desperate gasp for breath. “Okay, what should we do next?” I question out loud. “Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone.” “Haha!” I give out a booming laugh. “Thinking you can tell me what to do? Not only can you not physically stop me, but I’ll have you fired if you tried something so stupid. Now let’s get you up, shall we?” It’s time for me to make this experience a little more personal. I take my shirt off, revealing my large, creamy white, hanging belly. To make things even, I take one hand and grab a good portion of your shirt collar and rip it off, both of us standing there, completely topless. Since your legs are sore, I figured I would help pick you up. Well, into a bear hug that is. “Haha! I can’t believe how light you are!” I exclaim. “Please... can’t...” you are barely making any coherent words since my strong arms are wrapped around you, leaving your arms free, but pressed up against my fat. I’m certain you can feel the heat emanating from my giant belly, completely pressed up against your stick thin torso, practically absorbing you into my flesh. I feel your arms trying to get their grip onto my shoulders to try and stop me, but you can’t get any leverage to do so. Then I grip you even tighter squeezing out that last bit of breath you were holding. Lifting you like this has made us the same height at least. “You know something? There is something I’ve always wanted to try, but never had the chance until this exact moment.” I say coyly. You just stare into my menacing smile as I walk towards the wall of the office, taking my time so I can get maximum enjoyment from seeing your red face surprised with how easily I was able to transform you into my afternoon boy toy. “Let’s give this a shot.” I say as I approach the wall, I press you up against it and slowly release my grip on you from my arms, transferring it to my belly. You are able to stay in place against the wall, with my giant stomach pressing against you, wrapped around your skinny body with my fat circling you and pressing against the wall on either side. “Wow! I wasn’t sure if I was able to do that! I can feel someone is loving this though. Don’t pretend that I can’t feel your hard-on pressed against my belly.” “Ma’am, I’m not going to say anything. Just let me go!” You beg me. “I’ll tell you what,” I bargain, “if you can push me off of you, I’ll let you go.” Your face turns to even further surprise. Your arms are pinned down, your whole body is suspended off the floor by a few inches, only being held by my massive belly. How will you ever get free? “You can keep struggling, I like it when they struggle.” I say with a deep sigh at the end, clearly enjoying this myself. You continue to push and writhe while your body is consumed by my fat, but it’s no use. I can feel your chest and ribs starting to bend inwards while I ever so slowly lean more and more weight into you. After a 2 minute struggle, I take a step back and you fall to your knees on the floor, coughing for breath and clutching your rib cage. “Haha, oh is somebody hurt?” I laugh at you. “You can’t do this to me you... you cow!” You instinctively yell back, beginning to get angry. “Oh I beg to differ, tiny man. I’m so much bigger than you so I can do whatever I want. My fat body is just stronger and better than your insignificant one so I actually can do whatever I want. Here, let me prove it.” After my lecture, I lean forward and pick you up, throwing you over my fat shoulder with force so that your face hits my fat ass. “Now if I, ‘can’t do this,’ as you said, then why don’t you try to get free now.” I say softly. It’s clear that my lust is growing. I just love comparing our bodies and seeing how much bigger and stronger I am than you. You begin to struggle and pound your fists on my backside, if I were a skinny girl, it would probably hurt me, but my beautiful flab gives me soft armor that your weak arms couldn’t even begin to hurt me through. “See?” I say while you are kicking and punching. “You can’t even break my hold on you while I’m carrying you around. What chance do you have otherwise? In fact, why don’t I get some exercise and get some steps in?” “Jesus! You’re too strong, you’re crushing my stomach into your shoulder!” you yell again. I just laugh and continue to walk around the office with you tossed over my shoulder. It’s almost comical how little you look over my broad shoulders and body. Every step I take with you carried, you can feel the tightness around your midsection. I exaggerate my footfalls so my shoulder digs into you further and further, I’m sure it feels like getting multiple uppercuts to your stomach. You continue to kick and push to get some relief from me, but it’s no use. You are essentially as strong as a child is to an adult when you are in this position. Completely helpless and embarrassed that a girl could ever do this to you, but I’m much more than any ordinary girl. I am a giantess, walking around proudly with my latest prize. “Okay, let’s try something else.” I say, and as I finish that statement, I lean forward slightly, then push upright, grab your arms and pull your upper body over my other shoulder to get you in a fireman carry. “Oh my god, I can barely feel your weight now. It really does amuse me how little you weigh. I am basically four of you!” This is probably the best recreation I’ve had all week. “Now, instead of going to the gym today, maybe I can get my squats in early.” I say. I then squat down low and rise back up. Your arms and legs are starting to get tired and I notice them giving up some fight. You are just in a helpless position for me to do whatever I want to you, and treating you like my own personal squat rack is just one hobby I have in mind. “…and 30! Phew, usually I squat a lot heavier so I decided to make up for the reps this time to accommodate the small weight, haha!” I toy with you. “Alright, there’s just one more thing I need from my new favorite IT department.” I then lay your tired body onto my desk with your head on one end, stretched out fully across my elegant desk. I come around to where your head is, you look up at me completely frightened of what will happen next, as well you should be. “Alright then, I had a good time with you today, but I think we can end things here. Don’t worry, you’ll survive this, but I think I’ve had my fill today. I’ll see you next time little man.” I explain, “Wait, what are-“ you are then immediately cut off by me lifting my belly up with my strong arms and dropping it over your head and chest. After I do this, I lean forward more, letting my belly spread over you, totally consuming more of your torso. My belly extends from your head, going all the way down past your elbows on the desk. It probably feels like your head and torso are being consumed by a giant and warm sandbag, completely encasing you as you feel as though I’m literally absorbing you into my fat body. As I lean more weight onto you, I also hear the desk creaking from the sudden weight being applied to it. “Mmmm yeah, this is nice...” I moan softly. I just love seeing your little body, squirming under my belly. Even my stomach is just too much weight to handle as I notice more of your panic setting in. Your arms are heavily pinned so you can’t push my fat off and your legs are only kicking, trying to get any leverage for you to escape, but all I have to do is stand here and lean on you. I’m not pinning you down with any of my strong muscle, I’m just standing here like the goddess that I am, keeping you pinned down with my flab. “That’s right, keep struggling my slave...” I moan again, slowly rubbing my giant boobs and enjoying your whimpers and feeling you struggle against my body. Finally, your struggle dies down and I step back lifting my belly off you. You are still alive like I promised, but you are out of it for sure. A lot of oxygen was taken away by your goddess. “You nearly passed out there, haha! Okay little man, I’m going out for lunch now. I had a good time with you, and trust me…this won’t be the last time.” I put on my shirt, grab my purse and open the office door, still leaving you on my desk topless while you cough to breathe. Just before I walk out, I say, “Oh and make sure that monitor is working by the time I come back, haha!”