Kinktober Day 30 & 31: Costumes & Size Difference

Happy Halloween!

I combined these last two because I accidentally answered both prompts at once, and with them being right next to each other, it felt a little weird to put out two stories that would wind up being very similar back-to-back.

And with this, Kinktober 2021 is done! I hope all of you enjoyed it. Thanks for sticking with me through it. Counting some stuff I ended up cutting, I wrote a little over 47,000 words this month, which is kind of bonkers. 

If there was any story you particularly enjoyed, or any trope or characters you would like to see me revisit, let me know! One thing that's been really great about this month has been seeing what people enjoy and respond to. It's given me a better idea of where to focus my writing in the future, and also made me feel a little bit more confident about trying some new things.

I'm definitely feeling a little creatively wiped out and am planning on spending the next few days recharging with a lot of reading and knitting and other fun stuff that lets my writer brain turn off a little bit, but I will be back to updating my other stories soon. 

The November poll asking about which Kinktober story you'd like to see rewritten with characters gender-swapped will be going up at 8am PST tomorrow, and I'll set it to close at the end of the month so everyone has plenty of time to vote and comment!

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Content note: This story does mention the pandemic.

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A year ago, Missy’s costume idea had seemed great. A little ironic, but great. She would be the Wii Fit trainer, and her girlfriend Asha would be one of the Fitness Boxing 2 trainers, and it would be adorable and great for cute, nerdy photos. At the time, she’d been a little on the chubby side and hadn’t really had plans to fix that by the time next Halloween rolled around. But a slightly chunky Wii Fit trainer would enhance the costume, make it a little funny.

Then, the panini had happened, and both she and Asha had been trapped in their little apartment, anxiously watching the news. They had both reacted to it very differently. Asha, already a Type A fitness freak, started going jogging in the wee hours of the morning and evening when no one else was out, and working yoga routines and at-home Pilates routines and whatever else she could find into her day. She figured it would keep the anxiety at bay until the whole thing was over, and since she couldn’t go to the gym, she would do her best at home.

Missy had gone in the complete opposite direction. Her executive function wasn’t great at the best of times, and without the steady routine of going to work five days a week, she often felt too anxious and preoccupied to motivate herself to shower every morning, much less join Asha in her new fitness regime. Missy also found herself stress-eating, munching on snacks and squeezing in naps wherever possible just to escape from the cortisol pumping through her veins at all times.

After a month, Asha calmed down a little bit, settling for just one run and maybe one at-home workout each day. They ate similarly, but Asha tended not to be interested in snacks or seconds at meals, her appetite largely suppressed by stress. Missy’s bad habits only grew worse. She would sit in the bathtub for hours, reading romance novels and eating cookies and trying not to think of the world outside.

Four months in, Missy began to notice the difference. On the rare occasions when she had to step outside, walking even short distances felt a lot harder than it had before. It wasn’t even that she’d gained much; she just had no stamina now that she no longer had to walk around to run errands or stand for thirty minutes at a time when she couldn’t get a seat on public transit. Beyond the panicky feeling of being outside around other people during a plague, she just felt deeply uncomfortable moving in her own body in a way that was new to her. Even a quick trip to the grocery store—less than a mile round trip, and most of that was on the bus—had her feeling weak and out of breath.

So she went out even less. And, somehow, managed to start eating even more. Late at night, she would order takeout, scarfing down enough for her and Asha to share in the wee hours before her girlfriend woke up before dumping everything into the trash bin outside and hoping Asha didn’t notice. That was when the weight really began to pile on.

Asha didn’t mention it. She was in the same situation, dealing with the same stress, and she didn’t want to make Missy feel self-conscious. Besides, she didn’t look bad with the extra weight. Her round little belly looked right on her. Asha did still ask every few days if Missy wanted to join her for a workout or even just a quick walk, but Missy always declined.

Missy noticed her own growth. She spent most of her time in oversized t-shirts and underwear, and when her underwear started getting tight and the oversized t-shirts started to feel like they shrunk in the wash, it was clear what the problem was. Missy also noticed that Asha was looking not just fit, but actually muscular. While Missy had a puffy belly that hung over the waistband of her underwear by an inch, Asha now had abs. Where Missy’s arms had hanging fat, Asha had tricep definition. Asha looked healthy and strong and was starting to practice one-handed push-ups. Missy was starting to make the Pillsbury Doughboy look slim.

For a little bit, Missy felt sort of ashamed. Her girlfriend was looking slim and hot and she was quickly becoming an absolute butterball.

When they fucked, though? It was magic. Asha had always liked that Missy was softer, and her new billowy curves were no exception. She loved watching her thick thighs tremble and her belly and tits wobble when she was about to come, loved holding her afterwards and squeezing her growing gut. Missy appreciated that Asha’s new athleticism and flexibility meant that she could be more of a pillow princess, admiring her partner’s sculpted figure as she lavished attention across Missy’s pampered form.

While Asha did eventually reach a plateau—she wasn’t interested in putting on much more muscle than she had, just getting stronger and maintaining where she was—Missy did not. She swelled up bigger all the time, her secret midnight takeout orders growing by the week. Sometimes at dinner, seconds weren’t enough, and she would stuff herself with thirds before indulging in an over-the-top ice cream sundae.

So when it was Halloween again, and it came time to decide on costumes, she was no longer sure if her Wii Fit trainer idea would even work. Asha insisted, of course. “You’d look so cute in a little sports bra and some high-waisted leggings.” She gave Missy’s belly a squeeze. “And just think how precious it’ll look with us together.”

They wound up doing the costume. Missy painted her skin a blue-gray and tied back her dark hair into a ponytail to make the costume a little more obvious. They managed to find a sports bra for her, and it made her cleavage look absolutely ridiculous. The leggings they bought for her were skin-tight, hugging the wide curve of her belly and her soft, fat-swollen hips.

Asha dressed as Fitness Boxing 2 trainer Janice. She dyed her hair red for the occasion, and looked ridiculously gorgeous in a short blue skirt, and white and orange hoodie. She actually looked like a trainer, lithe and seemingly ready for anything.

The couples pictures were an excellent showcase of their contrasting bodies. They took a few to post online, Missy’s bloated curves looking utterly decadent beside Asha’s trim physique. As they looked at the photos, they had the same idea: why just take chaste, Instagram-friendly photos when they could properly take advantage of the holiday and take some just for themselves?

Which was how they wound up making an incredibly niche little sex tape of a very fat, very hot Wii Fit trainer bloated on Halloween chocolate getting eaten out by an equally hot but ludicrously fit Fitness Boxing trainer.