Extra Slice #9 -“Too Tubby Taylor’s Troubles”

This exclusive for Even More BS patrons is a sequel to “The Fat Making Notebook Goes out to the Ball Game” featuring the once vain Taylor. It gets a little messy.

Enjoy!

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Taylor knew she was a fatty. There was no denying that. She was the kind of woman who used to love making fun of fat people, and now she was one. She had been a fit, active athlete. She had been well dressed, well groomed, poised when the moment required it, capable of being prim and proper. And, above all else she had been slim and sexy and in control.

Now, the formerly vain vixen was a total lard ass, a fat slob who had spiraled into becoming a greedy, lazy overeater. There was no hope for dieting. Taylor simply couldn’t bear to go without food. She needed to indulge. She needed to eat.

And so the numbers on the scale kept rising.

But Taylor kept eating. And soon, the formerly fit and active athlete, found that the only real exercise she got was during her short trips to the nearby grocery store. She could have just signed up for some kind of delivery service. (She ordered her meals via delivery all the time.) But when it came to buying the essentials (and by essentials we’re talking about snacks), Taylor felt complex to make the slow journey and waddle to the store.

Of course, going outside had consequences.

“Holy shit. Taylor? Is that you?”

Some of those risks included running into people who used to know her when she was far thinner. That had happened on more than one occasion, and it was never any fun. She could see the looks of pity on people’s faces when they gazed upon her girthy body. However, most seemed to smile with a wild sense of schadenfreude. Ex-boyfriends looked like they dodged a big fat bullet. Old enemies enjoyed their revenge. Even former friends looked pleased to see the previously vain and arrogant athlete taken down a few pegs and turned into a big fat pig.

One of these worst of these encounters was when Taylor ran into her old friend and rival, Jennifer.

“Jesus Christ, I almost didn't recognize you because your face got so fucking fat. I mean, like, all of you got super fucking fat- you’re just- just wow- so huge. But your face? Holy shit your face is like- you look like an absolute pig. Yeah. That’s right. You look piggish. That’s why I could barely tell it’s you. You’re so fat you could be unrecognizable. But I just… I just kinda sensed it, you know?”

Jennifer was floored as she looked from Taylor’s obese body, which was clad in nothing more than a top tight and food stained t-shirt and a pair of greasy sweatpants, to her cart which was piled high with junk food.

“When did you get so fat?”

The once confident Taylor averted her gaze and let her had droop down in shame which caused her double chin to inflate further.

“I… I don’t know. It just sorta… happened.”

Jennifer scoffed.

“It just sorta happened? You just kinda blew up into an obese whale? That’s probably an even better word than piggy. You’re an absolute lard filled land whale. Like, I can’t get over it. You used to be so freakin’ hot. You used to be so put together, glamorous, slim and sexy. And now? Now you’re just a fat slob.”

She looked Taylor up and down trying to really commit every fat inch of her to memory. And when that didn’t suffice, Jennifer took out her phone and began snapping picture after picture from a variety of angles. As she did so, she also shook her and and made several loud tsking noises with her tongue.

“Seriously. You don’t look like you take care of yourself at all. You look like a lazy blob, a gross bloated couch potato who spends all her time just sitting on her fat ass, gorging herself on snacks and getting fatter by the day. How’s your couch doing? I bit you miss it. It must be pretty tough for a whale of your size to be waddling about out here in the wild. Oh my god. Does your couch have a permanent indent in it from your big fat ass sitting on it so much?”

Jennifer was really getting on a roll, and as she looked at the way her Taylor’s too tight t-shirt ling to her fat rolls, Jennifer’s laughter became a practical cackle.

Like a shark, she began to circle her former rival until she stopped to take full stock of the sheer size of Taylor’s previously shapely and now white blobish butt.

“I know it. I just know it. Your fat ass has got its own personal couch groove. That’s so fucking funny to think about, Taylor who used to be so fit, so slim and sexy and vain, always looking down at others for having just a little bit of extra weight, is so fat, so morbidly obese, that her collosal ass cheeks have dug a permanent indent into her couch. How pathetic! How hilarious! But, hey, it’s okay. You can crush those cushions as much as you want. You’ve got plenty to back you up.”

Jennifer, caught up in her own enjoyment of the situation, hit Taylor’s big butt with a double handed spanking which caused the once dominant diva to yelp. In response, Jennifer spanked her again and really took in the softness that yielded to her hands. She gave her full cheeks a squeeze just to really understand and appreciate how big Taylor’s blubbery butt was. Each cheek could have been grabbed by two hands and still not been able to contain it fully.

“Damn! Your ass is fat- we’re talking huge, a broken down dump truck, a definite wide load. Holy shit you’ve got a lot of blubber in this big fat butt. I hope you’re careful because you’re towing around a pair of wrecking balls back here. Your butt is just so…. so bulbous.”

Then, to Taylor’s surprise, Jennifer took her slender hands and pressed them against Taylor’s blubbery belly.

“And your gut! Holy shit. This is huge too!”

She began to knead the lower roll of Taylor’s globular gut as if it were dough.

“I just… there’s so much of it. And it’s so soft and squishy and like… warm. It feels like just- this is some belly butter right here. You’ve got a big fat blubber belly. I can’t believe it because you used to have abs. Like, you loved your abs. You loved showing off your abs constantly. I remember all the crop tops your used to wear so you could flaunt your trim torso.”

Jennifer took her time to really drink in the sad sight of Taylor’s sweaty stomach, previously tight and toned and now a preposterously tubby tummy, as that spare tire surged outward and sagged downward, spilling out from under Taylor’s too tight t-shirt and giving her a massive muffin top thanks to the inclusion of her lard filled love handles.

“I guess all your shirts are crop tops now with a blubber belly like this huh? I bet this spare tire of yours has a mind of its own. This sack of fat just loves to spill out from under your shirts and announce itself, doesn’t it? And I bet you’re not wearing sexy blouses anymore. I imagine it’s hard to button up around this belly. I’m sure your girthy gut is a real button buster.”

Despite herself, and perhaps because of the anxiety of the situation, Taylor’s tummy began to rumble, something that Jennifer immediately pounced on.

“Sounds like you’re hungry. You’re like that all the time aren’t you? That’s why you’ve got all this food. You’re such a greedy pig. You can’t stop stuffing yourself. You have no control. You’re such a fat loser, such a greedy gluttonous cow. You want to be eating right now, don’t you?”

Jennifer grabbed a small bag of pita chips from a nearby shelf and shoved it into Taylor’s chest.

“Go ahead. It’s on me, piglet.”

Taylor couldn’t help herself. She was too hungry and she tore into the bag of pita chips much to Jennifer’s delight.

“That’s right. Eat up.”

And that’s just what Taylor did, cramming pita chips into her mouth with no regard to the crumbs she was leaving behind.

“God, I can’t believe you’re doing it. But this is what you want. You love this. You love eating.”

Within moments, most of the bag was gone, though much of it had landed in places other than Taylor’s mouth, something Jennifer made sure to make note of.

“You’re such a messy pig. It’s gross. Look at you, you fat slob. You don’t care about the crumbs you’re getting all over you. You gonna dig them out from between your fat pancake tits later for a snack, Fatso? That’s so sad. You’re such a sloppy sow. And…”

As Jennifer leaned forward to more closely inspect the mess Taylor was making, she sniffed the air and caught wind of the sour stench emanating from Taylor’s once pristine body.

“Damn, Taylor. I’ve gotta be honest. You smell like a slob too. You are one ripe fatty. I mean, I get it. A fat lady filled with as much lard as you probably sweats all the time, and all those fat folds must be pretty hard to reach. But seriously, you need to try a little harder, you sweaty hog. Being obese is no excuse to slack on the hygiene. It’s bad enough that you’re too lazy to exercise. You’re too lazy to clean properly too, stinky.”

Taylor stretched her fat arms and desperately pressed her chubby hands underneath her wet armpits in a futile attempt to cut off the smell, but it was too little too late, especially now that Jennifer was so keenly aware and amused by it.

“It’s funny because you used to be so glamorous and stylish, prim and proper. And now you’re this fat slob, a total piggish loser who reeks. You’ve got crumbs all over you, that big sauce stain from who knows what, and huge sweat stains too. Your hairy is greasy and frizzy. You look disgusting, and it’s not just the massive amount of weight that you’ve put on. You used to be so elegant, slim and sexy, and now you’ve just let yourself go in every way imaginable.”

Taylor couldn’t take it anymore and turns as quickly as her large body would allow to waddle to the checkout and leave as soon as she could. She would have been quicker, but she would be damned before she abandoned her snacks.

And in that moment of weakness, Jennifer wasn’t ready to let her go either.

“Oh, you’re going to try to waddle away now, Fatso? You have to waddle with those thick as shit thunder thighs. Those flabby drumsticks are huge. It’s disgusting to watch your fat butt cheeks flop onto the back of your flabby tree-trunk like thunder thighs. And pull up your damn pants! I don’t want to see the top of your stanky, swamp ass complete with that fucking plumber’s crack, you pig! You’re disgusting!”

Sweaty Taylor threw her snacks onto the checkout counter and fished for her money while Jennifer dogged her.

“You had it all Taylor, and you let yourself go. You turned yourself into a fat slob, a fat, sweaty, foul smelling, gluttonous slob. You are worse than anyone you ever made fun of, you fat cow.”

Taylor finished paying and waddled out of the store as fast as her fat legs would carry her. Her thunder thighs chafed fiercely and her fat arms struggled to carry all her groceries as Jennifer still chased her out the store.

“Yeah. Keep waddling. I’m done with you anyway. You’re so fat, it’s boring to keep making fun of you. I’ve got plenty of pictures to show people. I’m sure I’ll get a kick out of making fun of you again with them. And you, my formerly fit princess turned pathetic pig, I bet you’re going to go home, sit on your busted ass couch, and stuff that fat face of yours. Aren’t you?”

As Taylor waddled down the block, she heard Jennifer calling after her one last time.

“You’re pathetic! Weak, fat, smelly, and pathetic!”

And Jennifer’s words haunt Taylor for the rest of her journey home.

Once home, Taylor lumbered over to the couch and sunk down into it. It creaked under her weight, but Taylor ignored it in favor of getting right to eating her feelings. She dove into her meal, ready to stuff herself and planning on going absolutely whole hog.

She skipped right ahead to dessert, grabbing a spoon she had left in nearby bowl this morning and plunging it right into a tub of vanilla ice cream. The delicious ice cream elicited a pathetic moan from Taylor as it slid down her throat. She hated how much she needed it, hated how much fatter it was destined to make her. But she craved it. She needed it. She stuck the spoon back into the tub of ice cream and stuffed her face with more.

It didn’t matter when the ice cream was starting to melt. It didn’t matter how much of it ended up dribbling down her chins, into her cleavage and onto her belly. Taylor kept going. The formerly fit woman stuffed herself with ice cream like the pig that she had become.

After the was done with the ice cream, Taylor threw the carton to the floor and huffed and puffed as she rocked herself back and forth until she got into a position where she could reach the grocery bags and pull out a container of her next victims, some cookies.

The cookies crumbled into her mouth and all over her chest and lap. She ate one after another, stuffing whole cookies into her mouth greedily. She hate so fast that her breathing became erratic snorting as she ate more and more as fast as she could.

Taylor was sweating just from the exertion of eating so much so fast, and her body odor, which was funky to begin with, was getting worse. But that was something Taylor no longer cared about. The old Taylor would have been mortified, but fat ass Taylor was nothing like fit Taylor. Fat ass Taylor didn’t care about appearances or body odor. Foul Smelling Fat Ass Taylor just cared about eating no matter how ripe her armpits were or how swampy her fat ass got.

Once the cookies were done, Taylor moved onto to a container of cupcakes she had purchased. They weren’t the mini-kind either. But they still went down quickly, one after another, stuffed completely into her mouth. The along thing left of them were some crumbs in Taylor’s cleavage and a smattering of frosting around her lips.

Taylor burped, loud and unladylike.

And then she moved on to a family sized bag of potato chips, and began plowing through it. They were greasy and delicious, and she was determined to work her way through the entire bag. Taylor was dead set on eating her feelings today, so she kept stuffing her fat face with more and more chips.

Taylor used to be an athlete, and now the only thing she was good for was stuffing herself with food like a competitive eater. And the only one she was competing with was her fat self as she stuffed her face and stuffed down any memories of the fit athlete she used to be.

When she started to slow down and needed more room, Taylor simply lifted one fat leg and let out a massive fart. It was such a far cry from anything she would have done when she was slim and sexy. Her formerly fit self would have been horrified, but this was just another day in her fat life again, and after releasing another slightly smaller burst of flatulence, Taylor went back to work on the bag of chips until it was completely empty.

After that, she took a nap and began dreaming of what she would order for dinner.