BS Writer

"Spiked" An Exclusive Cut

Here is another cut from the soon to be assembled Volume 6 of Exclusive cuts. I think this was my personal favorite to write so far. I'm curious as to what you all think.

Enjoy.

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Katerina was both the captain and a cunt. 

With a body gifted with grace and power - along with incredible conventional beauty - Katerina was a dominant figure both on and off the volleyball court. She played hard which made her a natural leader on the court, but her need to be dominant never ended even when the final whistle blew, and off the court she was an incredibly demanding and demeaning person. She strutted around her college campus with a confidence that few others possessed and frequently put others down to make herself feel more powerful.

Katerina loved to make fun of others, it was a joy she learned years ago. She had been the queen bee of her high school and was still the queen on and off the court in college. She loved to call people names, to pick apart their flaws and just to generally make them feel bad, to bring them to their knees in recognition and worship of her own perfect self.

And Katerina was indeed the stereotype of what society was supposed to find physically perfect. She was tall and lean but athletic, tan and remarkably pretty. She had a figure that many would die for, long athletic legs, a round, juicy but firm butt, perfectly sizeable but perky breasts, and a trim middle that was graced with sexy abdominals. She looked like she belonged on the cover of Sports Illustrated, and she knew it which is what made her so incredibly unbearable.

Jenny knew she had to do something.

Jenny was a stouter member of Katerina’s college volleyball team who had long suffered the indignities that Katerina saw fit to dole out since the the two were in high school together where Jenny was a far chubbier girl. By the time she and Katerina were seniors in college, Jenny was beyond done with Katerina’s superior attitude and was incredibly jealous of her looks and abilities and the incredible confidence that came with them. She wanted to bring Katerina down and become the captain herself, so she teamed up with her boyfriend, Hank, to bring her down.

Hank was another victim of Katerina’s bullying. He was a stereotypical fat nerd who was studying biochemistry and he was able to supply Jenny with an unauthorized experiment he was working on. To be honest, Jenny didn’t really have time for all of Hank’s explanations, and she wasn’t sure if it was nanites or a virus or what; she just knew she was supposed to spike Katerina’s protein shake with it.

And that’s exactly what she did.

Sure enough, Hank’s experiment went to work. Katerina found her appetite went into overdrive all while her metabolism crashed. This led to Katerina putting on quite the show.

With her appetite going haywire, Katerina began to regularly pig out, stuffing herself with food. And since the team often ended up going to the school dining hall together after practice, this meant that Jenny frequently got to watch Katerina gorge herself with plate after plate of food from the buffet, even encouraging her, pretending to be a good submissive teammate and fetching more food for Katerina to eat so she didn’t have to worry about wasting time and burning calories walking around.

Katerina became a junkie food junkie, regularly stuffing her face with chips and pretzels and cookies. She found herself eating large amounts of cake, something she had never allowed herself to truly indulge in before, but even though she told herself over and over again how fattening cake is, she couldn’t help herself. Her body was endlessly craving sugar and so she gave in and became a cake eating fiend, cake, and pie, and chocolate. She ate it all and in copious amounts.

Because the spiked protein shake also crashed Katerina’s metabolism she found herself struggling to find any kind of energy to workout. She began to barely go through the motions during practice, and as such she began to pack on the pounds very easily. Her clothes began to grow rather tight. This included her volleyball uniform.

One practice, Katerina was looking particularly piggish. Her formerly tight stomach had turned into a soft potbelly that now protruded out from under her shirt and over the waistband of her shorts along with the matching love handles to give her a thick muffin top. Her bubble butt had grown into a full on blubber butt with her cheeks becoming soft and flabby but large enough to fill her shorts with fat. That blubbery backside was paired with her thighs which had lost a significant amount of their athletic tone as they had filled with fat and cellulite. They no longer possessed any of the power that they used to and slapped together as the chubby girl tried to run around the court. Katerina found herself becoming increasingly winded, but she was determined not to look like a fool in front of the teammates she had always felt superior too, so she kept pushing herself as hard as she could.

With all the might her chunky body could muster, Katerina went up and spiked the ball hard at Jenny. The ball smashed against Jenny’s chest and flew out of pounds for the point, but Katerina hardly had time to celebrate. Landing on her quivering legs was the last straw for her overtaxed shorts which split right down the middle. While Katerina may have won the point, it was Jenny who got the last laugh as the humiliated Katerina ran away as fast as her fat leg could carry her while chased by the laughter of her teammates.

Katerina eventually tried returning to the team, but her conditioning kept deteriorating and her weight kept ballooning until it became clear that the now fat girl couldn't possibly keep up. Katerina had to deal with one final dressing down by her coach who called her a lazy, arrogant pig, dismissed her from the team and gave her captainship to Jenny.

This cost Katerina her scholarship and the now fat disappointment to her family was forced to drop out of college and take a job at her local Thick Burger to support herself. The consequences of this should be obvious.

Katerina became everything she had always feared, an obese lazy loser. With no drive left in her, Katerina gave in to her life as an obese hog, and thought she hated it, she knew there was nothing left for her to do. The damage was too great. She had allowed herself to become too fat to go back. She was a fatty, a pathetic, weak fatty so she might as well just give in and stuff herself admitting that her dreams were shattered and she was never going to amount to anything but being a poor fat girl.

She grew quite large with an enormously round stomach, a huge wobbling double belly that fought to make itself known no matter what kind of top Katerina had on. It was a gelatinous gut constantly craving more fattening food. Her hips were wide and frequently knocked things off of tables. Her thighs were thick thunder thighs that rubbed together and forced her to swing her legs in a slow waddle to move around. And as she moved she carried around a titanic wobbling ass behind her. It was a shelf of undulating fat covered in cellulite. Her breasts had gotten large and saggy, covered in stretch marks, and even her arms grew fat. They grew wobbling bingo wings that drooped over her elbows.

Katerina’s face grew multiple chins and thick jiggly jowls. She was a fat greasy mess. Her face was so fat that it was almost unrecognizable.

Almost unrecognizable.

But not to Jenny.

Jenny caught sight of Fat Kat while celebrating the volleyball team’s big championship win. The night of partying had brought Jenny and a few of her teammates to Thick Burger for some greasy food to help them sober up. It was there that Jenny got a look at the fat and fallen captain. The championship victory was sweet, but this was even sweeter.

Jenny became a regular at Thick Burger after that. She was always eager to see Katerina, to throw a few cutting insults Fat Kat’s way as she was served her burgers and fries. She loved seeing Katerina seemingly getting fatter by the day. It became an addicting experience, coming to Thick Burger to observe her handiwork.

And the food?

Well the food was just perfect.

Jenny couldn’t get enough of that either.

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 17

Here is my newest daily post for this week, the next edition of "Fat Trimmings". After this, I will be back to continuing my release of the Patreon Exclusive stories for Volume 6 of "Exclusive Cuts".

Enjoy!

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“Toni Gains a Ton”

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Getting fat was easy. Too easy. Toni had spent so much of her life being a hardbodied hottie and yet the moment she made the decision to throw that all away, she turned into an absolute eating machine. She had thought that her metabolism would take some time to break, but she was completely wrong. What she thought was a dam that would hold back the flood of pounds that would soon pile on turned out to be as fragile as a cheap pane of glass.

It started out simple enough. Toni had always been a popular girl throughout high school and college. She had coasted by on her looks, and she had no desire to do much of anything else. She figured she could get by being a social media influencer, but it turned out that being an influencer took way more work than she originally thought. So that was right out. And even modeling required working on finding an agent and then having to go to and from photoshoots and all of that. No. Toni was a spoiled and lazy girl at heart, and she just wanted to make as much money for as little work as possible.

And that’s when she turned to OnlyFans. It was easy at first. She could upload what she wanted and when she wanted, and Toni never had any problems showing off her body. But still, the money wasn’t coming in as much as she wanted, even when she started taking a lot of feet specific pictures to expand her portfolio.

Then Toni got an incredible offer. Some fat guy who she vaguely recognized from high school wanted to pay her to gain a ton of weight and document it on camera. At first, Toni knew this idea was a total no go. She was too proud of her figure and had often made fun of fatties in the past.

But the more she looked at the figure… the more she felt comfortable with the idea of changing hers. Toni quickly realized that the money she was being offered was serious, stop working for quite a while, kind of money. And she figured that she could double dip on the whole thing by recording a series of fat fetish videos to sell separately. She figured she could milk this for quite a while, and then when she was fat enough to claim her big pay day, she could lose the weight and bask in the glory of her windfall. With plenty of money and a backlog of content, she’d be able to live however she wanted as a slim and sexy hottie just recording occasional videos to show off for fun.

Toni was wrong.

Toni was very wrong.

She got too fat too fast which looked like it was going to be fine for her big pay day, but it meant she wasn’t able to get nearly as many gaining weight videos as she planned on making. And then… well… It turns out that when people you only vaguely remember making fun of in high school offer you money through the internet, it becomes incredibly easy for them to ghost you and disappear.

So Toni was left fat and almost totally broke, because food costs to get her super fat were rather high. Toni’s sleek body was a thing of the past. As the pounds piled on, her waist ballooned into a flabulous muffin top, a pair of thick love handles matched with a waistband busting spare tire, a big bag of jiggling fat covered in stretch marks from growing so fast. Her gut grew into a gluttonous mess constantly hungry for more greasy food.

Her thighs got thick as well, growing into thick tree trunks of flab. Their constant rubbing together was a constant annoyance that Toni had not mentally prepared herself for. They made her feel disgusting, even more so than the flabby pot belly she had grown. Her fat thighs were sweaty and chafed and a constant reminder of what she had done to herself. Those thick thunder thighs were paired with a bloated fat ass that was covered in cellulite. She was a jiggling mess trying to keep it all together as she transformed herself into the kind of person she had always made fun of.

Toni’s swelling body meant that all of the glamorous clothes she had acquired through the years had been outgrown, and because of Toni’s arrogance, vanity, and stubbornness, most of those clothes were completely busted. This left her hanging around in stretchy sweats that were often stained with food from her messy feasts. Sometimes these stains were purposefully curated for her videos.

Once she realized that her big payday had truly fallen through and that she was just stuck being big, Toni went into a terrible panic, one that unfortunately she couldn’t afford. She needed to do something. She tried to make that something losing weight. She even thought maybe she could monetize that. But that’s also when she ran into another problem.

Toni couldn’t stop eating. Once she finally gave into her hidden desire to indulge, there was no putting that genie back in the bottle. Toni was addicted to pigging out, her gut was too greedy for grease. She had gone from a prim and popular girl to a sloppy pig desperate for food and money which meant she reluctantly ended up doubling down.

She stopped trying to lose weight and went back to gaining it, to stuffing her face and humiliating herself on camera to keep up with her food costs and whatever lifestyle she could give herself. She could not longer afford to be slim and sexy and vain. She had to keep eating.

And that’s how Toni TonsofFun was born. And that’s just how she’ll stay.

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“She Wishes”

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She wishes she could be thin again. She wishes that she could go back to being the slim and sexy vixen that she was. She wishes that doughnuts and cakes and pizzas and all the delicious junk that she loves to stuff her face with had zero calories. She wishes she could just stop eating.

But she can’t. Her greedy gut always craves more. She needs to gorge herself on greasy burgers, chow down on Chinese food, or stuff her face with sausage and peppers. She craves grease, fat, salt, and sugar. She needs it like a fish needs water. She is seldom without food in her hand, and the new clothes she has to buy never last her very long. She can’t control herself no matter how much she wishes she could. Sometimes it feels like her hands move on their own to grab more food to stuff herself with even as mind screams out for her to stop.

She wishes she had never made fun of that witch. But now here she is.

She had always been the kind of mean popular girl who loved making fun of others, who felt that fat people were an inconvenience to her. She bumped into one fat witch and called her a co and that was the end of her slim and sexy life. That’s when she ended up cursed with this outrageous appetite, doomed to turn into a fat loser, a pariah, a laughing stock amongst her friends and family.

She’s a big girl now, a real cow as she would call herself. She is a hefty heifer with a large pair of saggy udders that are still dwarfed by the massive stomach that rolls out in front of them. Her greedy gut is a gelatinous ball of fat, a turgid, spherical mass that swells outward over the waistband of her greasy old sweatpants and pokes out of her food stained sweatshirts. It is a jiggling glob of fat that sways mightily with every little move that she makes.

Her thunder thighs constantly rub together and have reduced her former model strut into a ponderous waddle. She’s not a model anymore. She’s a pig, far greater than plus-sized. She is an obese hog as she tells herself when she looks at her massive reflection in the mirror every day. Nobody is a harsher critic than herself as she gets up and berates herself for turning into such a bloated fat ass.

And her ass truly is fat. Her massive flabby ass cheeks frequently burst through her pants in public leading to constant humiliation. They are wobbling orbs of fat that draw attention for all the wrong reasons. She has been subjected to every name she has ever called somebody else, every humiliation she has ever doled out to others and much much more. She is a big blubbery mess doomed to a life of stuffing and humiliation.

Try as she might, she wishes she could go back to the way things were before. She swears up and down that she’s learned her lesson, but she knows the truth.

The curse itself has been lifted. It’s not magic that’s keeping her fat at this point. It’s her. She’s too far gone. She’s grown too fat to change. The food is all too good and she finds herself craving more of it and giving in to her cravings constantly. She could lose the weight if she had the willpower to, if she wasn’t so greedy and broken. She wishes she could change.

But she knows she can’t.

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“The Perfect Thick Burger”

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The perfect Thick Burger melts in your mouth. It’s salty and savory and leaves you wanting more. It is the perfect amount of greasy goodness that makes you feel guilty in the best of ways but not too guilty as to turn you away. No. It’s the perfect kind of guilt. The guilt that makes you feel naughty, makes you feel like you’re doing something bad, something you shouldn’t be doing, the kind of guilt that makes you feel good.

It’s just a little bit of greasy guilt, a little bit of fun. You know deep down that burger is fattening, but it’s so delicious because it’s so fattening. So you let yourself have a little indulgence every now and then, a little guilty pleasure. And then soon enough you’re coming back for more, and a little guilty pleasure becomes a lot of pleasure, and all that pleasure brings with it a bunch of plush pounds. Weigh your burgers ounce by ounce and see how that translates into pounds upon pounds piling on your previously trim waist.

But you just can’t get enough now can you? You know what it’s like to taste perfect. Why try anything else? Once a month becomes once a week. Once a week becomes twice, just on the weekends. Three times because Mondays suck. Four because you gotta have something to get you over the hump day even if the humps you’re carrying around behind you are growing larger, thicker, fatter. You’re getting a fat flabby ass from sitting down and stuffing your greedy gut with Thick Burger, but you just can’t help it by this point. It’s beyond a habit.

It’s an obsession.

Suddenly Thick Burger is something you need every day. It’s the perfect quick lunch. So convenient. And you’re too tired to cook after work now that your body’s so full of fat and grease. No more working out. No more doing much of anything except lounging around and eating Thick Burger until your buttons burst. This is what you crave now. This is all you care about.

We own you and you can’t help it. You need to stuff your face here. You need to bring us home. You need to pig out, porky. You’re not slim and trim anymore. You’re a full blown hog, and we love it. We love your money. We love to feed your greed because you feed ours. Our coffers grow fat and heavy just like you. They are overflowing like your belly overflows your pants.

Look at your gut! It’s so embarrassing and there’s nothing you can do but fill it with our food and watch it grow bigger. You’re humiliated, but you’re much more hungry, you burger obsessed hambeast, you blubbery cow. Everyone is making fun of you as you sit their chowing down on yet another burger. You can hear them snickering at you just like you used to snicker at others. But don’t worry. Look at them. They’re ordering food too. They’re about to taste the perfect Thick Burger. Soon they’ll be piggies just like you.

But don’t think about it too much. Get back to eating. Consume more. That’s all you’re good for at this point.

Thick Burger is the perfect food for you, and you’re the perfect Thick Burger customer…

Fat and happy.

"Basketball Belly" An Exclusive Cut

Hey All,

I forgot that yesterday was Easter which meant that I was around family all day, and being around family is not conducive to writing smut.

Here is the next story for Volume 6 of Exclusive Cuts with more to come tomorrow.

Enjoy.

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Rori Prig has gotten round. There was no doubt about it. As she cradles her fast food filled gut with her hands, a spherical mound of fat now just as round as a basketball, the former hoops all-star contemplates what has become of her previously perfect life.

Back then, Rori still had a whole life of promise laid out in front of her. She was a star. She had just caught the end of NIL deals in her senior year of college. Her team was good. She was great, and she could see it all, everything she was going to be. She was going to be one of those transcendent athletes who’s so good at their sport everyone knows her even if they don’t follow the women’s side of the game. She was going to do Subway ads and be on cereal boxes. She had big dreams and the skills and looks to make it all come true.

Rori was the perfect commercial athlete. She had a long lean body that carried her down the court with the grace and quickness of a gazelle, and her toned figure made her just as adept at modeling bikinis. She was made the grace the cover of Sports Illustrated and she knew it. Rori loved to flaunt her skills on the court, where she had a reputation for being a constant showboater. And off the court she loved to flaunt her figure and the way she could so easily score with men and women alike. 

And everyone let her get away with it because as arrogant as she was, Rori always backed it up.

Her legs were the most noticeable part of her, long and lean but powerful. They gave her great speed and power on the court, and off the court they gave her a confident model’s strut. Rori’s core featuring a strong six pack also added to her skill and confidence. She loved to show off her muscles in shirts that she would purposefully wear short enough to ride up at the slightest movements, and in dresses that had large portions of the middle cut out to give a window to her slim and sex stomach. Rori had generous but pert breasts, and a model quality face. She drove everybody wild and loved it.

Rori also held everyone to a ridiculously high standard. She was relentless on the court and made for an extremely taciturn team captain. The way she carried herself on the court and the way she demanded the same from others made her a well respected if not always extremely well liked captain. Some would bicker behind her back about Rori arrogance, her showboating, and the constant demands she put on her own teammates to be better, but they would never say it to her face, and their desire to even come close to keeping pace with Rori’s abilities truly did make her teammates better.

Off the court, Rori’s attitude was far more noticeable. She was a mean girl with a penchant for putting people down. She loved to make fun of those she deemed fat and lazy which, given her own extreme athletic prowess, was most people. To her, almost everyone else was out of shape. And out of shape meant lazy. Lazy meant weak. Weakness deserved to be mocked, and Rori excelled at mocking others.

Whether it was opponents or anyone else, Rori loved to talk as much trash as she could because she always felt untouchable. And for years that was the case.

And then it happened.

It was a pretty standard game, and Rori was doing one of the things she did best, going up hard for a rebound. But as she did so, she got hit with one fucked up sequences of dominos falling. First she got hit in the air. This made her come down hard and awkwardly on her ankle, and as she continued to fall she twisted her knee all before finally landing directly on her hip. In total it took less than two seconds, but the whole moment felt like forever, frozen in her mind for her to replay over and over again. It was one of the worst athletic injuries anyone around her had ever seen.

And it was the end of her playing career.

You may think that this was the point that the pounds started to pile on. And they did. By the time Rori had recovered from the compound injury, she was certainly well out of playing shape. She had gotten soft all over, and any amount of exercise was quick to get her winded. She was also hesitant to push herself for fear of reinjury. She grew a bit of a potbelly and missed her precious abs. But still, Rori made some adjustments to her lifestyle and while she did indeed put on enough wait to make her feel a good deal less confident, she wasn’t fat by any means.

That would come later.

With her hopes of playing professionally gone forever, and with it any hopes of elaborate endorsement deals, Rori found herself with suddenly limited options. Through all her time in college, the arrogant athlete had actually developed little in the way of non-basketball skills, and with most of those skills no longer usable, the one she still possessed was her ability to lead.

And so she became a coach.

First she was an assistant and then she worked her way up to coaching semi-pro and then… well that was where things kind of plateaued. She was stuck coaching the middling North Texas Road Hogs. 

And that’s how Rori found herself sitting in her beat up used car with its floor littered with junk food and stuffing another greasy burger down her fat face.

The queen of the court was now much more at home chowing down on Dairy Queen. Over the last few years, the pounds really started to pack themselves onto her formerly athletic frame and never really stopped. All of the stress from her job, coupled with the depression that she felt over her evaporated dreams combined with the lingering sense that she had gone from a star athlete to a complete and utter failure led to Rori stuffing her face frequently. And so many nights out on the road meant that most of her options were cheap fast food which meant it was easy for her to balloon.

Rori became a laughingstock to her players and to anyone else she used to know as her athletic frame became buried under rolls and folds of flabby fat. She soon became known to many Coach Pig, as much of a mascot for the hogs as she was their coach. Rori is still a tall woman which just meant that she was able to pack on a truly incredible amount of weight to get as wide as she has.

Her stomach has ballooned well past basketball size, more like a saggy medicine ball. It is a great big greedy gut that can’t get enough of greasy burgers and extra salty french fries smothered in ketchup. Her spare tire hangs over her pants and frequently bursts the buttons on her food and sweat stained shirts even in the middle of games. 

Her ass has become like two deflated basketballs, sagging and covered in cellulite but large enough to still be a constant danger to any suit pants she tries to squeeze herself into. She tries her best to stay looking professional, but her gluttonous behavior means that her continually sky rocketing weight and her messy eating habits ensures that she always looks more like a bloated, down on her luck used car salesperson. 

Even Rori’s arms had gotten fat going from lean muscular limbs to fat filled sausages with flabby bingo wings. Her billowy arms made wearing professional looking sport jackets an exceptionally uncomfortable thing so she often went without which just made her look like even more of a slob.

Her days of gracefully moving down the court, or strutting like a model are long over now that her thighs are full of thunder. The hefty tree trunks that she lumbers around with cause her to waddle about awkwardly, and all this bulk makes moving about on the sidelines difficult and tiring. Her fat ass has gotten multiple technical fouls for accidentally stepping on the court while waddling about. It is a constant source of humiliation.

Another constant source of humiliation is her fat face. It is a jowly mess with a jiggling multitude of chins. She used to have such a beautiful face full of confidence, but now her face is fat and greasy and tired. She has aged beyond her years and her reflection in the mirror just drives her to stuff her face more and more.

Rori was always full of herself, and now she’s just full of fat. She wishes she could go back to the way things were, but she knows with her incredible appetite and her inability to exercise, that she is forever stuck with all this weight. She is a fatty forever.

Coach Pig is here to stay.

"Piggy Pose" An Exclusive Cut

Trying a new format. To get me back into my writing rhythm, I will be aiming to release each story in the next volume of Exclusive Cuts daily until they are all completed. Then I will publish the whole volume in one PDF. Here is the first story I worked on, "Piggy Pose"

Enjoy.

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Gina was one of those yoga instructors that was far more concerned about showing off her own body and skill rather than actually helping anyone out in her class. She was by her own account a grade A hottie with a slim and sexy body who took all of her self-consciousness about her relatively small breasts and channeled it into extreme arrogance about everything else about herself.

She knew that her body was the physical ideal for a yoga instructor. She was slim with just the right amount of toned athletic curves so as to not make her look like a rail. Although she was not particularly gifted up top, she was everywhere else. She had a perfectly trim waist with a flat washboard stomach, and she was blessed with a great ass, one that was tight, and perky and looked great in a variety of yoga poses as she looked phenomenal in whatever tights she chose to wear that day. Gina also had a sharp face with beautifully defined facial features and long shiny hair that she kept tied up in a bun or in a loose ponytail, and even in the simplest of arrangements people could tell that it was gorgeous.

Yes. Everything about her physically was perfect.

But Gina’s attitude was off the rails.

Gina was a mean bitch, a stuck up girl who was so caught up in her own physical prowess that most of the time she failed to see the effect she had on those who were struggling to keep up with her. And when she did see, she reveled in it. Gina courted jealousy. She loved to see people compete for her favor, and she loved to put others down. By doing so she had turned her yoga classes into something of a cult. Her favorite students, the hottest and cattiest, would work up front, and the rest would struggle to keep up. The ones that struggled the most stayed in the back with few exceptions.

And those exceptions were the ones that Gina wanted to make an example of, and those people were almost always fat.

Gina hated fat people, completely despised them. To her, fat people were lazy and disgusting and the complete antithesis of everything that she was. So when she had exceptionally fat people who struggled in her yoga class, Gina loved to move them toward the front of the class so she could degrade and humiliate them while everyone else got to watch them struggle. Inevitably, this kind of cruel activity would send the fatties packing, and continue Gina’s display of dominance to everyone else.

That’s what Daria was forced to watch happen to her friend Trish.

“Come on, Piggy! Push yourself just a little bit. This pose isn’t even that hard. Just get your big fat ass in the air. Let’s go, you big sack of lard, you pathetic loser. Look at all of these other people working hard, and your fat lazy ass can’t do the simplest of things. You’re nothing but a fat weakling. It’s really sad, fatty. You have no business being here.”

Daria felt awful because she was the one that had dragged her friend Trish to this class in the first place. Daria was a pretty girl who was used to things coming easy to her. She was slim and attractive and got plenty of attention for it. Even though she was popular, she never let it get ot her head, and Trish had been her best friend for years.

Her fat friend.

Trish was a large woman in every way with a big rolling belly and great big thunder thighs that forced her to waddle about. She had a fat round face with a doughy double chin and massive breasts that sagged and rested on her globular gut. Usually, Trish was very content with who she was, but lately she had begun to become a bit more concerned about her health, and so was trying to lose weight but struggling to motivate herself.

Daria had hoped that a yoga class would jumpstart Trish’ motivation, but not like this.

Trish ended up leaving Gina’s yoga class in tears and completely humiliated which left the normally calm and kind Daria with the wheels spinning in her head as she planned her revenge against Gina.

And that plan involved killing Gina with kindness. Daria was skilled when it came to yoga. Knowledgeable, flexible, already incredibly fit. She could have been a teacher if she wanted to, and would have made a better one than Gina thanks to her having the ability to actually care about her students. Her plan involved working herself into Gina’s inner circle which, with her skill, looks, and ability to kiss ass, was easy enough to do.

Once she was there, she put her real plan into action. Daria began to invite Gina to nights out, to coffee and stuff to eat after class. She plied Gina with alcohol and a variety of fattening junk food. The entire time she was doing that she continued to flatter Gina about her figure, and her ironclad metabolism. She moaned about how much weight she would put on if she was to eat like Gina ate. She talked about how jealous she was, and this encouraged Gina to eat more as a way to further assert her dominance by showing off. Daria was happy to pay for more food for Gina to stuff her face with.

Of course, all of the extra eating by Gina did not go unnoticed, and she was determined to workout more than before to keep any unwanted pounds off. Daria volunteered to be her diligent workout buddy. And Gina was so tired from nights out that Daria offered to help her in whatever way she could. This included preparing Gina’s pre and post workout shakes. And those shakes became heavily dosed with weight gain powder and some ground up pills that Daria was able to find online to increase Gina’s appetite.

Gina’s overreliance on these workout shakes led to a devastating effect on her figure. She quickly began to pack on the pounds, and when she began to pack on the pounds it made working out harder, so she didn’t do as much during her sessions, but she kept drinking the same amount of shakes prepared for her by Daria. Those shakes also increased Gina’s appetite which meant even when she wasn’t going out with Daria she was stuffing her face. She was snacking on her own all the time, and then when she was out with Daria she stuffed her face even more. Late nights out became later and stuffed with even more calories. And those late night eats meant Gina was even more tired when it came to trying to workout the next day which meant she did even less while still drinking the same amount of the fattening shakes. It was a continuous cycle leading to a downward spiral, and that spiral came to an inevitable conclusion.

Gina got fat.

Gina got extremely fat. 

Her washboard stomach began a great gelatinous gut blown up with weight gain shakes and beer. It was a ponderous belly, a sack of fat that sagged and jiggled with each step. Her thin waist exploded outward like a broken barrel with thick love handles and her beer belly combining to form a massive muffin top. As the weight continued to pile on, Gina’s belly continued to expand further into a sagging spare tire. It made her look exceptionally silly when she tried to workout as it bounced up and down with every labored step she took on the treadmill. At first people thought maybe Gina was pregnant. They found it hysterical when they realized she was actually just turning into a fatty. She soon looked like someone who had never been to a gym before. Gina looked like she was much more used to sitting on the couch.

This was especially true once her pert and perky ass blew herself up along with her gut. Her ass ballooned with fat forming two thick but wobbly cheeks. They were filled with cellulite covered chunk and paired with thunder thighs that made Gina, who now looked much more like a sloppy couch potato than a put together yoga instructor, had to waddle. 

Gina’s breasts didn’t get much bigger, and instead they grew only enough to make them sad and saggy as they rested on her prodigious pot belly. Her face however was changed forever. It became a bloated mess with fat cheeks and a doughy double chin. She grew so fat as to be almost unrecognizable which actually came as a blessing for Gina.

The obese Gina didn’t hold onto her job for very long once the weight started piling on. Her work as an instructor only lasted long enough to have a few exceptionally humiliating sessions where her entire clique turned on her now that she had turned into “a weak, pathetic, piggish, fatty.” Now she mostly stays home and stuffs her face like the piggy she has become. She had truly turned herself from a slim and sexy hottie into a bloated cow.

As for Daria?

Her figure isn’t as perfect anymore either. All those nights out with Gina took their toll and she’s stuck with some bad habits and a permanent paunch. But she did become a yoga instructor after all, and she did it with her best friend by her side.

Trish ended up losing a considerable amount of weight. While still a hefty girl, Trish and Daria now teach a yoga class together focusing on accessibility and body positivity.

Occasionally, Gina drags her fat ass to class but always makes sure to keep her big butt far in the back.

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 16

Hello. Here is another round of "Fat Trimmings" as I get back to my usual Fat Tuesday schedule. Expect the next volume of Exclusive Cuts to drop by the end of the week as my regular work day continues to open up and allow me to write more.

Enjoy.

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“Chunky Cheryl”

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Cheryl didn’t plan on getting fat. Most people don’t plan on getting fat, and Cheryl always considered herself like most people if somewhat above average in the looks department. She was a go with the flow kind of girl, never strove to rock the boat or change the world or anything like that. She did whatever seemed to be popular at the time, made herself a fairly popular person and generally kept her social calendar pretty full.

Fatness just kind of happened to her.

A full social calendar meant a diet full of heavy night out meals and a belly full of beer from partying. The more Cheryl partied with her friends, the more she ate, and the more she ate, the more the pounds began to pile on. It was slow at first, even stoppable, but Cheryl wasn’t the kind of person who saw dieting as a choice. Dieting would be a radical change for her, one that would cause an unwanted shift in attention. 

Who wanted to be the only one ordering a salad when everyone else was ordering burgers? What kind of friend would she be if she didn’t partake in the sharing of appetizers? And how rude would it be to turn down a free drink or two?

So Cheryly damned the torpedoes and it was full steam ahead right into becoming a big fatty.

Cheryl used to be a slim little hottie, a real vixen before she let herself go. She didn’t quite have washboard abs, but she had a slim stomach and slender thighs. Her nickname was Cherry because of her two luscious ass cheeks which were perfectly pert, tight twin orbs that looked especially great in a slinky red dress she liked to wear to parties. It was the talk of the town.

That dress has long since been outgrown. It ripped right down the middle one night when Cheryl stumbled after drinking her fifth beer. And it was already on its last legs going into that party stretched tight against Cheryly’s globular glutes, and riding high. It exposed all of her flabby cellulite covered thunder thighs and threatened to let her fat ass peak out as well. In the end it did just that when it split. Cheryl was mortified.

But she didn’t stop eating.

If anything Cheryl ate more after that night since she now had a whole lot of feelings to eat for. The humiliation sent Cheryl into a spiral, and nobody calls her Cherry anymore.

They just call her Chunky.

Chunky’s got chunky cheeks, two fat and flabby deflated balloons that she calls a butt, two saggy sacks of fat that have lost all of the definition that they once had just like the rest of her. They bounced whenever she walked but never in the way she wanted, and all of her pants were rendered perpetually uncomfortable. This unfortunate turn of events was further exacerbated by the thickness of her thighs.

The pillars of jiggling flesh liked to press themselves together and their plumpness was threatening to turn Cheryl’s formerly sexy strut into a full on awkward waddle. Waddling seemed inevitable to everyone but Cheryl. While Cheryl was busy stuffing herself with seconds, everyone else loved to laugh behind Chunky’s now bloated back.

Of course, Cheryl’s stomach got chunky along with the rest of her. Her slim waist was now a bloated muffintop and the centerpiece was a bugling pot belly, a big fat gut, a flabby spare tire that jiggled like jello as it spilled over any pair of pants that she somehow managed to squeeze herself into and stretched out any dress she tried to wear. It grew into a gut that gave her the appearance of a very plump pig.

Cheryl’s breasts grew too. They begin soft and saggy, but the attention that would have been paid to them was mostly drawn to other parts of her body as Cheryl’s breasts had the misfortune of being situated between her spongy potbelly and her big fat face.

Chunky Cheryl’s face took on a doughy quality with chubby cheeks and a thick double chin. People loved to marvel at just how much her face had changed from one that was slim and angelic to one that was decidedly fat and piggish. 

That’s just the way things are now. Slim and sexy Cheryl is gone now. It’s just Chunk Cheryl, your average chubber. But Cheryl better be careful. If she keeps eating like she does – and she shows no sign of stopping – she won’t be chunky for much longer.

She’ll just be FAT.

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“Digging Those Doughnuts”

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You can’t get enough of those donuts. Can you, Fatty? No, of course not. Look at you. You’re nothing but a pathetic piggy now. Where’s all that self control you used to pride yourself in? You used to be full of it. Now you’re just full of fat. Soft, weak, pathetic fat. Flabby, bloated, jiggling fat.

Go ahead and keep stuffing yourself piggy. Have another doughnut. Have all the doughnuts you can eat. That’s a lot of doughnuts isn’t it. At least a whole box worth. What’s a dozen to you? That’s barely a challenge. Isn't it humiliating to know that? It’s true. You know you could eat a dozen doughnuts and still be hungry, you hog, you hippo, you bloated hambeast. 

That’s right, there’s chocolate glaze. That’s your favorite. Isn’t it? Don’t you just love the taste of that chocolate icing? Or maybe that’s not enough for you. Maybe you want the chocolate cake doughnut. That sounds scrumptious, doesn’t it? Or maybe you feel like being really bad, a naughty little piglet. You want something a little more decadent. Don’t you? You can have the double chocolate doughnut, the one that has BOTH the chocolate cake and the chocolate icing on top. This place even makes it with chocolate sprinkles, so you can really go whole hog on the chocolate.

But do you want to know the best part, piggy?

With your gluttonous appetite, you don’t have to choose! You can have all three! Isn’t that wonderful? You get to stuff your face with all three delights and so much more. And of course you’re going to do just that because, after all, there’s still plenty of doughnuts to try, and your fat ass can’t get enough of them.

There’s jelly next. Jelly for your jelly belly, you big fat sack of lard. Look at that gut that you’ve grown. It’s tremendous, isn’t it? It’s a big, fat sagging spare tire that stretches toward your knees when you’re sitting. It’s this loose hanging, wobbling ball of fat that droops down in front of you when you stand – which isn’t often at this point, not with the way you put these doughnuts away. You’re a roly poly piggy stuffing your face with jelly doughnuts.

And Boston cream! Oh, just look at these delicious cream filled delights. You can’t say no to them. You can’t say know to anything, you greedy glutton. Feel that cream slide down your throat as it makes its way down to your great big gut. You’re such a heifer, a land whale, a blob.

You’re just a mound of fat sitting there with your legs fat legs spread wide to account for the girth of your gut. You used to be so slim and athletic and now you’re sitting your pathetic wide load ass on two chairs and stuffing your fat face with doughnut after doughnut.

Cram your face full, Fatso. You know you want to, fatty. You’ve got no control left. No dignity. That’s all out the window. You’re just a pig now. A pig who’s only good for getting fatter. You’re my pet piggy, and I want you to eat, so you’re going to eat.

And eat.

And eat.

You can’t stop now.

You want to get fatter.

I want you to get fatter.

You’re going to get fatter.

And I love it.

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“Thick Burgers Wants to Make You Fat”

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Thick Burger wants to make people fat. That’s the whole point. Why, you ask? It’s simple. Fatties eat more food. More fat fatties, more burgers sold, more profit. And it’s all about the profit. Money makes the world go round, so Thick Burger makes its customers get round.

The lure them in because it’s so good; you see. Of course it’s good. Everything greasy is good. And they even have healthy options. Just start with a salad. Then, smother that salad in ranch dressing. Add some goat cheese. Add some bacon bits. Everything is better with bacon. Add some avocado. It’s the good fat!

Do you know how many calories are in an avocado?

Do you know how much sugar is in a fruit smoothie?

Do you know what a fruit smoothie really is? It’s a gateway drug to milkshakes. And nothing goes better with a milkshakes than a nice, hot, juicy, greasy burger with a side of fries. But hey, if you add a slice of avocado it’s easier to feel better about yourself.

Thick Burger counts on their customers playing pretend. Denial is a great way to make money. It’s just a little weight. It’s not that bad. It’s hardly noticeable. Those pants are getting tight because the waistband has shrunk. It’s not that one’s waistline is expanding. So keep coming to Thick Burger. Keep indulging in your favorite food. It’s okay. You can quit whenever you want to. You don’t even need to quit. Just make some sensible changes. Order whatever you want. Everything is fixed if you just make your drink a Diet Coke. And Diet Coke costs the same as regular, so it’s all good to Thick Burger. Hey, did you know you can get a burger with low fat mozzarella? It tastes like shit compared to the real thing, but you can lie to yourself and pretend you like it. In fact, when you cover it with a couple thick slices of bacon, you can hardly tell the difference.

Any problem can be solved with bacon.

People love bacon.

And bacon is fattening.

And Thick Burger loves fattening people.

It’s not just about the profit. Thick Burger is in it for the love of the game. They love watching people get fat, and not just fat people getting fatter. They love fit people becoming fat people. There is something delicious about the karma of watching arrogant people give in to their basic instincts, stuff themselves like pigs and then become what they’ve always made fun of, and Thick Burger makes a hefty profit off of that. Do you know why?

College students are such a huge market. Arrogant college students who think they’re invincible. They get their first taste of independence, and suddenly they’re getting that delicious taste of Thick Burger to go with it. It’s so easy to blame everything else but themselves. The freshman fifteen is a normal thing right? It’s just a couple party pounds. But those pounds keep packing on, and by the end of college they’re hooked. Thick Burger is a part of their lifestyle.

A few Thick Burger customers even become staff members taking full advantage of the free staff meals and employee discount. They go from being the people who make fun of fatties to being what they’ve made fun of, and then when they’re staff members at Thick Burger, they get the joy of watching the people that make fun of them for being fatties become fatties just like them. Time is a fat circle.

It’s fun to watch bellies grow, to watch abs become flab. It’s great to see customers go from prim and proper to piggish as they stuff their faces. Plenty of people who come to Thick Burger could have been models, but Thick Burger turns them into fully fattened hogs. 

And rest assured, you’re one of them. You can feel it in your veins can’t you? All that grease. All that fat building up inside you. You’re getting fatter and fatter and you’re going to keep getting fatter and fatter. You can’t quit this place. Even after all the stuff I told you. You can’t help yourself. You’re such an obedient little pig, such a loyal hog.

You’re going to keep on blimping out, busting pants, popping buttons. You’re destined to be a big fat landwhale forever addicted to the slop that we feed your piggy ass. And that’s just the way Thick Burger wants it.

Thick Burger wants to make you fat.

The Scales of Time Chapter 9

I'm back! Thanks for your patience. I am past the work hump, recovered with enough sleep, and looking forward to getting back into the swing of things.

Here's chapter 9 in the Scales of Time where I really get to lean into another big eating scene.

Enjoy.

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Vivian plucked her panties out of her ass crack with her chubby fingers and sighed. She couldn’t believe she had allowed herself to get this tubby. Her hands slipped down the sides of her love handles and cradled her belly fat in her hands. It was a soft mass of pale flesh that she rolled between her fingers as she tried to remember what her abs used to feel like.

Years of perfection had gone out the window. All the time she spent keeping herself in shape was for nothing, lost to the indulgences of her freshman year that led to the freshman fifteen and spiraled into years of yo-yo dieting.

Now here she was as a senior in college, and it felt like she was at a precipice. She was set to begin her intense graduate level training inside her coven, striving to reach the heights of her magical abilities while standing here at her highest weight yet. This gut of hers was a constant reminder of the failure she saw herself becoming as were her thighs.

Those thighs had gotten soft and were beginning to touch together. Every pair of pants she had used to be tight on purpose to show off her sexy figure, but now everything made her legs look like overstuffed sausages. And those pants weren’t doing her ass any favors either.

She used to love her ass. In fact, it used to be her favorite part of her slim and sexy body. Her ass was tight. It turned heads. Now it just turned her stomach when she looked at it. Pale, and squishy and covered in cellulite, it was a soft, flabby mess that was clearly losing any semblance of a shape, and her chunky cheeks had the habit of swallowing up any panties they didn’t rip into incredibly uncomfortable wedgies. She hated her fat ass. 

Vivian gave her ass a spank in anger and felt it jiggle in response causing her to sigh again. She was not looking forward to having to cram it into any pair of pants. She wasn’t much a fan of doing anything except crawling back into bed and stuffing her face with chocolate until she felt better. She was supposed to workout with her sister Elizabeth today, but she dreaded having to put up with her sister’s comments, and figured she could put off her diet and exercise routine for at least a few more days.

Maybe she could invest in a girdle and hide her figure for a little bit, just long enough to regain some confidence and-

“NO!”

Vivian had seen enough of her past pitiful self wallowing in despair. She was disgusted at the flabby mess that Julia’s influence had caused her to become. She grabbed her presently much bigger belly in both hands, shook her gut and cursed in anger.

“Well I’m not letting myself turn into this.”

Wand out and her eyes filled with the fire of determination, Vivian stepped forward and into her past body. It felt nice to be slimmer again even if this past body was still far from the slim and sexy one she wanted. She knew she could still take control and change things for the better and for good.

“We’re going to go and workout with Elizabeth. We’re going to eat whatever shit she throws at us because our tubby ass deserves it, and then we’re going to whip said tubby ass back into shape. And you can lose this weight. You can get yourself back into control and be the most powerful witch in this coven because you can do anything. We are not a pig!”

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Julie was extremely pleased with what she was seeing. It was a real treat to see Vivian actually forced to be human, sweating up a storm as she tries to move her body enough to shed the unwanted pounds. She could see Vivian getting winded and clearly pushing herself too far. Julie could tell that if Vivian wasn’t careful she was going to end up pushing too hard and hurting herself, setting herself back and… well that gave Julie a rather devious idea.

She didn’t need to hide behind the great oak since she was completely ethereal, but it felt good to rest her hand on the tree that had inadvertently played a role in her aunt’s downfall and knew that she was now going to twist it to her ends to avenge her aunt in at least some way by defeating Vivian.

“Move that fat ass, tubs. Let’s go. Let’s go. Let’s go.” barked Vivian’s sister, Elizabeth as the tubby raven haired girl huffed and puffed her way up the path. Her entire chubby body was jiggling, and Julie could tell that her legs must be burning.

Julie wanted to watch Vivian embarrass herself all day, but she knew that she had one moment to knock over another domino and achieve a far greater plan, and she couldn’t waste that moment lingering on a merely chubby version of Vivian making a spectacle of herself.

So as Vivian approached with a focus too driven to observe anything other than her own heart rate and a body too taxed to offer much resistance, Julie cast her spell, a simple one, one she could have done even in her college days.

And the root of the tree grew, not enough for Vivian in full exercise blinders to notice, but certainly enough to catch her ankle and send her falling to the ground screaming.

“Ah shit!” shouted Elizabeth as she rushed toward her sister’s side.

“You tripped on the fucking tree? Ah, you tubby idiot. You of all people should’ve- Okay. Okay. Stay still. I’ll get help.”

As Vivian writhed on the ground, Julie almost felt a little bad, but she didn’t have time to linger on compassion. She needed to make her second move and take advantage of the situation she had created for herself. So she left her chubby rival with her broken ankle under the shade of the great oak and touched the watch again to shunt herself slightly into the future.

Julie placed herself several weeks later in the school dining hall eager to scope out any sight of Vivian knowing this would be the perfect place to enact the next part of her plan. And, sure enough, she was soon rewarded with the sight of a rival who had clearly seen better days.

Vivian looked like a delightful mess, still hobbling about in a walking boot, her lack of physical activity was evident from the sight of her bloated body. Vivian’s chubby frame was still barely constrained by overly tight clothes. Her pale, pasty belly was sticking out from under the bottom of her t-shirt which was constantly rolling up no matter how often she pulled at it, and as she looked to load her tray with food she had to give up completely to focus on physically holding her feast.

It was a sampling at first, a nice bowl of salad whose only indulgences were the generous amount of goat cheese that was added and the fact that it was a bit overdressed with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. 

Julie decided that this would be an ideal test for the next part of her plan, just a little push similar to what she did before to ease herself into something grander.

“You should add some avocado, it’s the good kind of fat. Mmmmm…. And some bacon bits. Wouldn’t that be delicious? Protein is good for working out.”

Vivian blinked for a moment and did as she was told, and as she reached for the bacon bits, Julie slipped her astral form directly into Vivian’s once athletic body. The scoop of bacon bits became two, and then three. And once Vivian got herself to a seat the next command was simple.

Eat. Eat as fast as you can.

And Vivian did. She devoured the salad and before she knew it she was staring at an empty bowl. She had come into the dining hall with the intention of just getting a simple salad and even that had become more of a calorie laden affair than Vivian had planned on. She knew she should just go back to her dorm now and get back to studying, but she couldn’t shake the feeling in the back of her mind that she was hungry for more.

That feeling was Julie.

“That was a good first course, but you’re not nearly done. You know you need more food. You’re so hungry.”

Vivian got up and found herself walking back toward the buffet. She chastised herself as she felt her thighs rub together but kept going anyway until she was standing in front of the pasta section. She thought about just getting herself some fruit, but apparently carbs were calling her name. They were serving spaghetti and meatballs, and next to that was a huge tray piled high with garlic breadsticks.

Vivian could feel her stomach rumble.

Julie was making her stomach rumble.

“That’s right. You’re feeling pretty hungry, aren’t you my little piglet? Of course you are. You’re turning into a fatty, and us fatties need to eat. Don’t we, tubs? Come on. Reach for it. Reach for that food you know you want.”

Vivian felt herself reaching out for a thick, soft, delicious smelling garlic bread stick and placed it on a plate next to her mound of spaghetti.

“It’s cute that you think you can get just one.”

Her hand reached forward again as Vivian felt herself compelled to get a second one, and a third, and a fourth. Vivian couldn’t help herself. As she picked up each breadstick, her mind was filled with thoughts about how delicious they would be. She could feel herself already getting lost in the idea of stuffing her face with these warm, tasty treats and letting the troubles of her day just drift away lost in the distraction of her decadent desires.

“That’s right, piglet. Carbs can be so comforting. You know that. You deserve a little treat for yourself. No. A nice big treat for yourself. Go ahead. Things have been rough, and you could really use the pick me up. You NEED the pick me up. You NEED these breadsticks, so go ahead and get some more. Load up, tubby. Get set to stuff your fat face, my little piglet.”

Vivian didn’t stop at four breadsticks, or five. She laid the breadsticks on her plate, stacking them in a pyramid in satisfying rows until she had ten garlic breadsticks in total.

And she knew she wasn’t done.

She couldn’t help but head back to the spaghetti and meatballs and slam another huge ladleful of pasta onto her plate.

“That’s right, piglet. Slop up! Carbo loading is good for you. It’ll give you the energy you need to work out. Don’t forget to grab a couple more meatballs for the protein. You’re definitely going to work all of this off. Stuffing your face totally won’t make you too bloated and tired to workout later, and protein turns into muscle. This is how you’re going to lose those stubborn piggy pounds. You need fuel for exercise. And a growing girl like you needs lots of fuel for your big, greedy belly.”

Vivian made her way to a table by herself and began to stuff her face. She felt self-conscious at first as people she knew walked by and were clearly giving her looks, but then the struggling girl felt her thoughts changing yet again.

“You’re in control. You’re in complete control. You’ve always been in complete control. These people? Losers. Ignore them. They wish they could be you. They wish they could eat like you. This is nothing. You can enjoy this. You deserve to enjoy this. You don’t need to go on some crazy diet like these twig bitches. You’ve got a great metabolism still. You’ll cut back your portions just a bit and drop this weight no problem. You can cutback whenever you want to because you have willpower. You’re not a pathetic fatty like other people on this campus, like Julie. You’ve got it together. And if you want to eat this much spaghetti and these delicious breadsticks, you’re going to eat every last bit of it because you can. And if eating makes you feel good, you’re going to eat to feel good because you can stop whenever you want. You just don’t want to right now. You want to eat. You want to pig out.”

Vivian did want to pig out, to absolutely stuff her face with pasta, so she started to shovel the spaghetti into her mouth with reckless abandon. She opened her jaw as wide as she could to get as much as she could at one time and then slurped up whatever was left hanging out of her mouth without any care to the mess she was making as tomato sauce tainted her chin and shirt. With each slurp, it sprayed wherever it pleased. 

Once the massive plate of pasta was done, Vivian dedicated herself fully to the breadsticks. She tore into them with an animalistic ferocity and ate like a machine. The only time she broke her rhythm was when she realized she could use the doughy garlic breadsticks to sop up what was left of the tomato sauce. That genius idea- one that was truly all her own- opened her tastebuds up to a whole new world of flavor. 

Vivian had finished it all, the spaghetti, the greasy meatballs and the breadsticks. But when she realized there was still leftover tomato sauce she knew she needed more breadsticks. She grabbed two more, dipped them in the sauce and took them down in short order. When she was done with that she stuck her tongue and literally licked the rest of the plate clean which is when she realized that people were staring at her. She tried to walk away, but Julie had other plans.

Julie thought back on her past encounters with Vivian and couldn’t resist a more specific pasta punishment.

So more pasta was plopped onto Vivian’s plate, more spaghetti and meatballs but this time combined with fettuccine alfredo, and pasta primavera. Vivian looked down at the abomination she had put together for herself to eat. It was a plate of pasta slop that she knew belonged nowhere but in the garbage, but Julie wouldn’t let Vivian shove it anywhere but down her own throat.

“There you go, fat girl. Go stuff your piggy face. You know you want to.”

And Vivian did, somehow- and that somehow being Julie’s magical assistance- she found a way to pack in all that pasta until her piggish pot belly looked positively pregnant. She was ready to call it quits after spending more energy stuffing her face than she had in the weeks of not working out, but Julie was still not finished with her.

Vivian was screaming internally. She couldn’t understand why she was doing this to herself, why was heading back toward the buffet line with a belly so bloated that it was causing her to waddle like a pregnant lady. It was like she had no dignity left, and Julie leaned into that line of thinking to give Vivian some further motivation.

“Naughty, naughty piglet. You know what you have to do now. If you’re going to eat like a fat, naughty little piglet, you might as well go whole hog. You deserve to punish yourself. And the best way to punish yourself is to stuff your face some more. If you’re going to act like a fatty, be a big fat fatty. Then you’ll learn your lesson. Go on. Eat up, piggy. Oink. Oink.”

Vivian grabbed herself another plate and piled it high with mashed potatoes and gravy and fried chicken. The chicken was filled with grease that dribbled down her chins as she tore into it and chased it with spoonfuls of rich and buttery mashed potatoes. She felt like a complete hog as she continued to stuff her face and make a mess of herself, but she couldn’t put her fork down unless she was picking up another chicken wing to eat, and she wouldn’t put down the chicken until she sucked every piece of meat off the bone.

When she was done with that, she felt for sure that she was done and went to leave once again when….

“Oh, no no, piggy. You can’t leave yet. There’s always room for dessert.”

And so Vivian grabbed another tray and more plates and stacked them with cookies, and cake and grabbed a bowl that she filled with vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream which she drowned in syrup and smothered in whipped cream. Then she sat her fat ass down and began to scarf down her mountains of dessert. The cookies went first which meant that by the time she got to the ice cream it was already half melted and starting to blend together, and her taste buds were so overwhelmed by everything else that she could barely appreciate the flavors of the ice cream. The fact that she was eating everything so fast probably didn’t help either.

Once that was done, Vivian was left with an overtaxed tummy and a mound of chocolate cake still to go. With her dignity well out the window and nothing else to lose, Vivian dug in with a gusto and ate mouthful after mouthful of cake, staining her lips with chocolate. She could barely do it, but at this point, and completely under her own power, she was determined to finish to at least succeed at something. She needed the win and that win came in the form of a clean plate once she finished all her cake like a good little piggy.

Julie chuckled as she felt herself being pulled back to her present. She didn’t even try to slow herself down to see what the years would do to Vivian because she was too excited to get back to the present and see the results of her handiwork.

She knew it was going to be big.

Scales of Time Teaser

Hello All,

I apologize for some continued delays. The Scales of Time may still get another chapter today, but it will be much later than usual and very possibly will have to be delayed further.

This is my first time maintaining my writing schedule like this while having one of my work crunch periods, and as such I have misjudged the amount of time I would have to juggle and how to best juggle it. The good news is I don't have these work crunch periods often, and the knowledge I've gained from this experience will help me to better plan for the future ones.

The better news is that the Scales of Time is still definitely being worked on, and here is a teaser:

Vivian could feel her stomach rumble.

Julia was making her stomach rumble.

“That’s right. You’re feeling pretty hungry, aren’t you my little piglet? Of course you are. You’re turning into a fatty, and us fatties need to eat. Don’t we, tubs? Come on. Reach for it. Reach for that food you know you want.”

Vivian felt herself reaching out for a thick, soft, delicious smelling garlic bread stick and placed it on a plate next to her mound of spaghetti.

“It’s cute that you think you can get just one.”

Her hand reached forward again as Vivian felt herself compelled to get a second one, and a third, and a fourth. Vivian couldn’t help herself. As she picked up each breadstick, her mind was filled with thoughts about how delicious they would be. She could feel herself already getting lost in the idea of stuffing her face with these warm, tasty treats and letting the troubles of her day just drift away lost in the distraction of her decadent desires.

“That’s right, piglet. Carbs can be so comforting. You know that. You deserve a little treat for yourself. No. A nice big treat for yourself. Go ahead. Things have been rough, and you could really use the pick me up. You NEED the pick me up. You NEED these breadsticks, so go ahead and get some more. Load up, tubby. Get set to stuff your fat face, my little piglet.”

Vivian didn’t stop at four breadsticks, or five. She laid the breadsticks on her plate, stacking them in a pyramid in satisfying rows until she had ten garlic breadsticks in total.

And she knew she wasn’t done.

----------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed that teaser, and know that I will work to get you the full chapter whenever I am able to do so without rushing and sacrificing the quality of the work.

Thank you for your continued support.

Scenes from a Casual Dining Restaurant: Part 2

Late night posting because I got this done and wanted to share it right away. This is a ver different style than what I usual write which made it a fun challenge, but the challenge also made me take a lot longer with this especially when combined with work stress.

There are more parts to come.

Enjoy.

--------------------------------------

Judith pretended to be bussing something from an empty, unused table just so she could lean in and eavesdrop on the two seemingly mismatched customers in their meet cute.

“You’re Martha, right?” said the butch rocker chick as she leaned forward toward the mousier woman who looked like she was either a teacher or librarian and also like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Y-yes.” stuttered Martha as her head listed to the side so she could get a clear look at the goth rocker’s combat boots.

Judith could have sworn that out of the corner of her eye she watched Martha bite her lower lip, but her contemplation was broken by the sound of the place settings moving from the rocker girl slamming her hands on the table.

“Excellent. Would’ve hated to get here coming on so strong to the wrong girl, though you’d be cute either way. Knew it was you. You look just like your pictures.”

“Thanks… so do you. Sabrina, right?”

“Yeah yeah yeah. Actually, this piercing is new,” Sabrina said, sticking her face closer to Martha and pointing directly at the shiny new stud sticking out of her right nostril.

“But it’s pretty small. I wouldn’t expect you to notice that.”

Judith left Sabrina and Martha to their unimportant small talk while she went to get them their cheese fries and drinks.

As the loaded cheese fries hit the table, Judith couldn’t deny that she wanted a bite for herself, but she left that thought alone and went to grab another round of drinks for the couple.

The loaded cheese fries were smothered in brown gravy and ranch dressing and covered in cheddar and muenster cheese along with chili, and bacon with chives and a dollop of sour cream. They were a heart attack in a bowl, a fit to be a meal in and of itself, and yet here it was sitting in front of these two thin women waiting to be consumed as just the first course.

“You like the look of those cheese fries?” Sabrina said with a sly smile as her fingers rapped against the table as she waited for Martha to make the first move.

“Interesting choice for a first date,” replied Maertha with a conservatively coquettish smile of her own.

Sabrina leaned forward, and her deep sultry voice dipped lower as if she had an incredible secret.

“You know why I like to go with loaded cheese fries? It tells me a lot about a girl.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Tells me if they’re not afraid to get messy.”

Sabrina continued to smile slyly with anticipation as Martha quietly unfolded her cutlery and set the napkin on her lap. There was a moment of hesitation as Martha looked between her fork and the greasy spectacle before her and dug in.

“Tells me they’re not afraid to eat,” Sabrina crowed as she watched Martha shove a large forkful of cheese and gravy-covered french fries into her mouth. Little bits of bacon crumbles fell to the table, and Sabrian picked them up and ate them, setting them on her tongue for Martha to see before swallowing.

“I like that in a girl,” chuckled Sabrina softly as she watched Martha take a second bite.

Martha set her fork down and gently patted the sides of her mouth with her napkin taking care of any errant gravy or ranch dressing before motioning toward the rest of the loaded cheese fries.

“Are you going to eat?”

“Of course. I don’t mind a little mess.”

Sabrina pulled off several of the still crunchy fries and shoved them into her mouth without care to the grease getting on her fingers.

“And these are fucking great,” she said as she took a second, larger handful of fries.

“They’re quite good. Yes.”

Martha gave a small nod of approval and smiled as she watched Sabrina continue to go back for more.

As the evening progressed, the abundance of loaded cheese fries was whittled down to just an empty serving vessel, and with greased stained paper lining the bottom, and both women has shared a basically equal amount with Sabrina perhaps having edged Martha out slightly.

As if to make up for that, Martha was now working her way through some well buttered bread as Sabrina polished off her second whiskey.

“This is good bread.”

“Yeah. It is,” replied Sabrina as she picked up a piece of bread to signal Martha that she was not alone in eating it.

“Crusty, but soft inside. Just the way I like it.”

Crumbs tumbled from Martha’s mouth as she winked at Sabrina.

‘

“You’re cute,” chuckled Sabrina.

‘

“Thank you.”

As Sabrina set her empty whiskey glass down, she looked over at Martha’s half empty glass of water, her second for the night.

“You don’t drink much. Do you?”

Martha shook her head.

“I don’t drink at all.”

“Not even beer?”

Martha’s face flushed, not from the question but from the answer that was teasing her tongue.

“Drinking beer gives you a beer belly,” she said with almost a whisper.

“Does it?”

The hair on Martha’s neck stood up, and her only response was a coquettish nod.

“Maybe I should try it then.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Do you dare me to?”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I dare you to get a beer.”

“But what if I get a beer belly?”

For a moment, Martha’s breath caught in her throat.

“So be it,” she finally managed to get out.

“You are a minx, a secret little minx,” Sabrina practically purred.

“And you’re getting a beer.”

“And getting you more bread.”

The two frantically signaled for Judith to take their beer and bread order. As they settled down into their next course, with Sabrina getting them a second order of regular fries this time, they chatted about a series of small things as one does. It was easy conversation that made for good snacking to pass the time before they decided to get into the serious eating. By the time they were ordering their main course, both women were sporting bloated food babies but showing no sign of slowing down.

Sabrina decided this was her time to show off.

“I’ll have a t-bone with the loaded baked potato and a side of creamed corn.”

“I’ll have the same,” replied Martha in an instant, unwilling to be shown up.

“Oh, you think you can handle keeping pace with me,” teased Sabrina.

“I like my chances.”

“I don’t think you’re ready for this. I’m gonna smoke you.”

“Unlikely. Your belly is full of beer.”

“My belly has plenty of room. Yours is full of bread,” said Sabrina as she gave her stomach a hearty pat.

“I’ll be fine,” replied Martha while patting her own.

“How do you know?”

Martha smiled with pride.

“I’m a steak and potatoes kind of girl.”

“You better be careful.”

“Or what?” Martha asked even though she already knew the answer.

“You know,” teased Sabrina.

The two could feel the heat between them. They could sense it growing just beneath their bloated bellies, and as Martha tried to reply, her breath caught in her throat and left Sabrina to finish the thought for her.

“You’ll get fat.”

“Will I?” Martha asked as she gently touched her hand to her lips in mock surprise.

“Yeah. You will.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got a great metabolism.”

Sabrina picked up one of the few remaining french fries.

“Not if you keep eating like this,” she said as she deftly snapped it in half between her teeth.

“I could say the same to you.”

“So say it,” said Sabrina as she gripped the edges of the table.

Martha’s voice dipped to a barely audible but husky whisper that forced Sabrina to lean across the table to hear it.

“You’re going to get fat.”

Sabrina practically threw herself back into her chair and nearly send herself end over end.

“I’m gonna get fat?” Sabrina loudly proclaimed now that it was her turn to engage in mock outrage.

That’s when the main courses hit the table and the two women attacked their plates with gusto, tearing into their steaks with the fury of wild animals. As they tore, and chewed, and stuffed their faces with potato, they couldn’t keep their eyes off of each other. For a while, there were no words, just relentless eating and lustful eye contact until their plates were mostly empty and both of them were left leaning back and rubbing their taut bellies.

“You’re going to get fat. You’re going to get a big fat beer belly.” Martha proclaimed as she was trying not to let Sabrina catch on to her near panting.

And then they were off to the races.

“You’re gonna get a fat ass.”

“You’re going to get thunder thighs.”

“And you’re gonna get huge fat tits.”

Martha’s fork dropped and the proceeding silence was deafening. It hung thick in the air.

“What?” asked Sabrina with her mouth open and a bit of potato still in her cheek.

“That was crass.”

“We were just-”

Martha slammed her hands on the table and pushed her chair back as if to leave at any moment.

“That was too far.”

“I mean you were talking about me getting fa-”

“But you were rude.”

“Rude?”

“Rude.”

“How was I rude?”

“Talking about my breasts.” Martha’s hand instinctively covered her modest chest.

“That’s rude?” asked with a gasp of exasperation and a raised eyebrow.

“Of course.”

“Talking about your breasts is rude, but talking about my thighs isn’t?” Sabrina sneered.

“Of course not.”

“What do you think’s between my thighs?”

“Rude! Rude!”

“Come on. Don’t lie to me. You know you were thinking about spreading my thighs when you mentioned how fat they’re gonna get.”

Martha pressed herself up from the table, struggling with her stomach bloated like a pregnant woman. It was a rather comical sight to see her food baby straining otherwise conservative sweater as she tried her best to let her indignation win the day.

“I’m done. Goodnight.”

“Done?”

Sabrina was left totally stunned for a moment. Luckily, in an uncommonly polite move for someone in her position, Martha had decided to push in her chair before storming out. This momentary delay gave Sabrina just enough time to formulate her eloquent response.

“Wait.”

“No.”

Not wanting to risk being rude and cutting Martha off from an exit, Sabrina instead chased her around the table.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please. Come on. Come on. I’m sorry. Please. Sit. Let’s… let’s have dessert?”

“Dessert?” asked with a raised eyebrow, her mind intrigued by the possibility of a delicious chocolate moose but wary of any of Sabrina’s additional intentions. Sabrina, picking up on this, raised her hands in peaceful deference.

“Just actual dessert. It’d be a shame to have all this great food and not finish with dessert.”

Martha’s tongue ran along her lower lip.

“Dessert is dangerous,” she moaned.

With a sly smile, Sabrina slinked back into her seat and gestured for Martha to join her.

Martha ran her delicate fingers along the back of her chair as her other hand pinched at her thigh.

“Yes. Yes it is. Deliciously dangerous.”

Sabrina’s feet were tapping on the floor as she gripped the edge of her seat.

“You know what they say.”

“A moment on the lips,” said Martha as she sat back down.

“A lifetime on the hips.”

“So…. dessert?” ask Martha with a smile.

“Dessert,” replied Sabrina with a wink as she went to flag down their waitress.

Judith was ecstatic. This evening was going swimmingly. Even with Brenda and Eddie up to their usual bullshit bickering back and forth, her other tables were all going very well. Jake and Alex and the mismatched lesbian couple in particular had combined to order a massive amount of very expensive food, and Judtih felt extremely confident that she was already heading toward making good money in tips tonight.

She had Jake and Alexa’s extravagant dessert order right now, and that alone was going to send their bill to a price that any vaguely reasonable percentage would make for a good tip.

The fat couple couldn’t decide on what kind of pie ala mode they would have, so they each ordered their own pie- not by the slice, but by the pie- Boston cream for him, cherry for her, and for the ala mode part, they each got their own three scoop banana split sundaes with the works. It was a precariously heavy thing, but all Judith could think about was all the money it was going to make her.

All she needed to do was get past Brenda and Eddie’s table.

“Well just do something with you life, Eddie! Just fucking do something!”

“Fuck you, Brenda, you bitch!”

Eddie suddenly thrust himself up from the table and into Judith who was still distracted by dollar signs. His muscular frame sent her off balance just enough for the tray to finish the job. The contents of the tray shifted and so that the first half of the tray’s contents turned it into a comical catapult for the second half. This sudden shift sent Judith tumbling and what was left of the tray flying.

And everything came crashing down on-

“AHHHH!!!!” Martha screamed as she was freshly covered in ice cream and cherry pie.

Sabrina was no better off with chocolate cream pie running down her back. And with that their date came to a rapid end capped by lots of screaming.

Judith, having landed hard on the floor, held her head in her hands. What a disastrous turn of events. She could see it all, no tips, at least one full comp and none of it her fault. And Valentine’s Day was supposed to be one of her best nights.

But still she tried to stay positive. There would still be tables, and if she ended up sticking around, she could always try for a bigger Valentine’s Day next year.

Weekly Update 3/12

Hello Everyone,

I have an important deadline at my full-time job that I need to focus on. This is my busy time of year. As such I have had to move some other projects around.

Unfortunately, there will be no "Fat Trimmings" this week and likely next week. I will attempt a double-sized addition for its return. Additionally, "Exclusive Cuts" which I hoped to post this week will be moved to next week as well.

I can announce that the plan for that piece is 5 stories. Here they are:

“Whole Lotta Whale Blubber” - A swim team captain ridicules another swim and finds herself on the rough end of some magically fattening revenge.

“Red Card and Rounded” - A vain soccer player's prank on a fat former team member backfires on her with weighty consequences.

“Piggy Pose” - A pretentious yoga instructor who loves mocking her fatter clients goes from demonstrating downward dog to being a bloated cow.

“Basketball Belly” - A former basketball star turned burnt out coach deals with the pounds that pile on on the road.

“Spiked” - A volleyball player sabotages her arrogant rival who happens to be the captain of the team.

These stories are all based on Patron suggestions.

I'm hopeful that I will still be able to release the second part of "Scenes from a Casual Dining Restaurant" tonight and the next chapter of "The Scales of Time" on Friday as I originally planned. My work deadline will mostly only effect my weekend and the beginning of next week. I am prioritizing finishing these sections of Scenes and Scales because those are commissioned pieces.

Thank you for understanding. After the beginning of next week, my writing schedule should be back to normal.

Nightmare Pigs: Chapter 4

Time for Scarlet to fatten another bully into a pig. (Featuring weight gain and slob for those who are new to the story.)

Enjoy.

-------------------------------------

“You’re such a fat loser, Large Marge,” Diana Pendelton laughed as she used both her hands to grab and shake Marjorie Smith’s big fat belly.

When the crying fat girl turned around, Diana felt bold enough to give her a big smack to her wide rear.

“Oink! Oink! Piggy!” she cried as she watched the dejected fat girl waddle down the hallways.

Diana felt the hands of approval on her back as her friends complimented her on how she put that fat pig in her place. One of them did pinch her shoulder just a little too hard, and she felt a fingernail dig into her skin. She turned around to see who it was, but her friends were already heading down the hallway, and Diana had to move quickly to catch up.

This was more the position she was used to, the follower, the one coming in just behind the others. She strode to catch up and take her place next to Em and behind Bethany and Cynthia with Jennifer taking point.

Diana couldn’t help but admire the curves of the three women directly in front of her. She knew she was attractive in her own right. If she wasn’t, they wouldn’t have accepted her into their group. But she also knew that she couldn’t compare to the curves of these three confident goddesses as they strut before her, Jennifer Russel especially.

While everyone considered Diana to be more of Bethany’s pet project, which she was, Diana always had her eyes on the undisputed leader. Jennifer’s figure was an absolute knockout, a perfect hourglass, and the mean girl had so much confidence and control. She was everything Diana wanted to be and be with.

She was admiring Jennifer’s perfect ass when–

PPPPPPPHHHHFFFFRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTT!!!!!

Jennifer let out the loudest fart that Diana had ever heard.

And then a second.

And a third.

All without breaking stride.

And as Diana’s recoiled and held her hand to her nose she realized that Bethany and Cynthia were doing it as well.

“Come on, ladies. Get a hold of yourselves.”

But it was more than just the gas. Diana noticed that with each blast that escaped an ass, those asses seemed to get fatter. They were blowing up. It was like all that gas was making the girls blow up like balloons despite the incredible amount of it that they were letting out.

Each of the three popular girls were swelling with fat and farting, turning from prim and proper ladies to fat, sloppy pigs right in front of Diana’s eyes. Their breasts swelled and sagged, their butts grew blubbery, their bellies burst through share shirts and hung out of the waistbands of the skirts and pants shamelessly. They grew thick thunder thighs and had fat, swollen faces with jowls and juicy double chins. And the fat didn’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon. The previously slim and sexy vixens were just getting fatter and fatter and more flatulent.

“You- you need help.”

Diana turned to Em to see that she had fallen victim to the fattening as well, swelling up to piggish proportions just like the rest of her friends.

“This can’t be happening.”

“Oh, but it is.”

Diana turned around again to see a woman that she didn’t know but who knew her all too well. The woman with long purple hair and matching nails floated toward her.

“Who are you?” screamed Diana.

“I think this is the spot where I’m supposed to say something like ‘I’m your worst nightmare.’ But I like to think of myself as so much more than that.”

“L-Leave me alone.”

“Oh no dear. I can’t do that. I’m on quite the roll tonight, and you- you’re next on my list.”

Diana looked around at her now fat and disgusting friends.

“I- I don’t want to be like them.”

Scarlet shook her head.

“Don’t lie to me, dear. You’ve always wanted to be like them. That’s the problem. Can’t have you back out of that now just because your friends have gotten a little chunky.”

Scarlet’s laughter was punctuated by the flatulence of the fattened popular girls.

“Oh, at that too of course. That’s part and parcel with the piggishness. You’ll be doing lots of that.”

Diana’s face blanched with fear even as her nose wrinkled at the smell.

“Please. Don’t do- whatever it is you’re going to do. Don’t make me like them. I can change– or whatever it is I need to do-- I can do it.”

“Diana, you couldn’t even be nice to Marjorie in your dreams. And now it’s time for your punishment.”

Jennifer and Em’s fat bodies faded away.

“I haven’t gotten to those two yet. But these two.”

Suddenly, Cynthia and Bethany were transformed out of their torn up designer clothes and into different outfits entirely.

Cynthia’s outfit was somehow even more revealing. She was dressed all in black, a black bustier that failed to contain the lower portion of her gut, a pair of black booty shorts that had her ass cheeks hanging out, and black fishnets that made her cellulite covered thunder thighs look like tressed up hams in a butcher’s window.

Bethany was dressed in a too short sundress whose light fabric was still stretched taut around her bulbous belly and was pushed up by her thick thighs and even thicker blubber butt. Her arms and legs were clearly hairy, and the hair on her head was slick and greasy. Diana could smell the unmistakable and pungent blend of pot and body odor wafting off of Bethany.

Both girls let out tremendous farts before disappearing and leaving Diana alone with Scarlet in the darkness.

“Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Suddenly Diana was standing there naked and ready for Scarlet to inspect.

“Hmmm. You are rather thin. I suppose you think that’s enviable. You do love your thinness. I can tell. But you’re not nearly as curvy as your other friends. Does that bother you? I imagine it must. You’re something of a mousy girl overall, certainly a member of the itty bitty titty committee, but you’re definitely one of those ‘pretty in your own way’ kind of girls. And I’m sure the confidence you get from hanging around your clique helps with things.”

Diana tried to run away but found herself paralyzed as Scarlet touched her on the shoulder. As she pinched her with her long fingernails, Diana recognized the stinging sensation from earlier.

Scarlet slid her hands along the length of Diana's body before planting a kiss on her navel. Diana couldn’t help but admit that there was a shock of pleasure that ran through her when she did that.

Scarlet had a long twisted grin on her face as she prepared for Diana’s destruction. She tapped both of her hands on Diana’s thighs and then used Diana’s slender hips as leverage as she brought herself back up to a standing position.

“Do you know what your problem is, Diana?”

Scarlet ran her long finger up Diana’s trim middle and swirled it around her nipple, teasing it.

“You’re a fucking leech. The Bethany’s and Cynthia’s of this world, especially the Jennifer’s of this world, they’re bitches, but they’re fucking leaders. At least you have to respect them because they know how to get and keep power- Until someone like me comes along. But you? You just latch yourself onto them. It’s pathetic. You make nothing of what promise you have and just siphon what power and popularity you can from others.”

Out of the aether came a long tube which Scarlet grabbed and ran along the side of Diana’s slim face.

“You suck.”

And she tapped the tube against Diana’s trembling lips.

“So let’s put that skill of yours to use.”

“Y-you- You don’t understand! With people like that you have to latch on. You’re either in their wake or in their way, and if you’re in the way they crush you.”

Scarlet tapped the tube against her own chin as she gave Diana a thoughtful nod.

“Interesting argument. Don’t care for it.”

Then she shoved the tube roughly into Diana’s mouth, and– try as she might to fight against it– Diana was powerless to stop her lips from wrapping themselves around the tube and creating an air tight seal.

“Time to get FAT!”

Whatever nightmare fluid was pumping through the tube and into Diana’s mouth was thick and creamy and bitter. It was some kind of vile concoction that tasted awful on her tongue but slid easily down her throat until she could feel it settling heavily in her stomach.

Her stomach began to gurgle and then stretch outward as the liquid filled her. At first it felt like her stomach was bloating just from the amount that she was drinking, but it soon became clear that something else entirely was happening. Her stomach was filling with liquid, but it was blooming with fat. Her trim waist began to bulge out in all directions, and her flat tummy soon became a pudgy paunch as it grew layer after layer of soft adipose tissue.

“Getting a little chubby there, girl. Better watch what you’re eating.” Scarlet laughed as she gave Diana’s bulging belly a taunting pat.

As she continued to gulp down the liquid, Diana’s midsection continued to expand. Not only did her pudgy paunch become a full blown pot belly that was starting to sag downward, but she also sprouted a pair of thick love handles as her midsection popped outward like an overfull jug of water. The gurgling of her stomach intensified until.

PPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFPPPPHRRRTTT!!!!!

Diana let loose a sudden and thunderous burst of gas.

“OOF!” Scarlet giggled as she made a show to Diana of waving her hand in front of her nose. Diana’s only response was another loud and involuntary toot.

“Yup. I’m afraid you’re going to be doing that quite often, Stinky.”

As another loud, long, whining fart escaped her ass, Diana could feel her ass cheeks vibrate, and as she expelled noxious gas from her ass, she could feel that vibration get bigger as he butt cheeks fleshed out behind her, growing thick but flabby with fat, filling up like two quivering balloons as her butt let out more air. She grew a big spongy butt with well cushioned cheeks that sagged toward her thighs. The flapping of her flabby bottom modified the sound of her farts like a trumpeter using a mute to give them a distinct wah wah” sound. She could feel her tiny ass growing heavier with each passing moment as the liquid continued to fill her and turn her body to blubber.

She also felt the hard stink of Scarlet spanking her.

“Coming along nicely there, Blubber Butt. But we’re not nearly done. Keep suckling, Piggy.”

As ordered, Diana’s butt kept growing in size and softness. The saggy fat began to drift further downward even as the blubber kept billowing outward as well. Her flabby butt cheeks began to, now dimpled with cellulite, began to rest on her thighs, at least when Scarlet wasn’t spanking or shaking them. Scarlet’s fingernails seemed to take extra pleasure in sinking into Diana’s thickening ass meat.

Diana’s thighs were the next thing to thicken, and they began to plump up fast. Since she lacked any of the athletic backgrounds of the other girls, her legs swelled quickly into saddled bags, and as the pounds piled on her plush thighs soon pressed together. Just like her fat ass, her thighs also became marred by cellulite giving them a pale cottage cheese like quality. Her thighs began to quiver as the liquid kept pouring into her. The thick flesh continued to bloom and its soft jiggliness belied her thighs’ thunder-like quality. She was a storm of fat down below.

It was becoming clear that as the fattening liquid filled her previously slim frame that it was turning her distinctly pear-shaped. Although her burgeoning belly was quite large, the swelling of her ass and thighs were well outpacing it. Diana cringed as she felt the flesh of her thighs press together more and more and force her stance to widen. She knew that if she ever got out of this, she would be stuck waddling for the rest of her life, if she could even walk at all.

The horror at the realization that she might end up completely immobile, just a big blob of useless fat sent a shiver down Diana’s spine that was punctuated by another obnoxious loud blast of noxious gas from her big fat ass.

Scarlet could sense Diana’s every thought, and she had to admit that the idea of making her completely immobilized by fat was a very tempting one, but she knew she wouldn’t do that. If Diana were immobile she would have to attend her college courses and she’d be free to reliving the same harsh scrutiny scorn she had made others, like her precious baby, Marjorie, face. Besides, Scarlet wasn’t cruel. She believed the punishment should fit the crime, and everyone should be punished by degrees. She was savoring her greatest punishment by far for Jennifer Russel.

But Diana’s fattening was far from over.

As flab continued to fill her legs, Diana could feel her calves fattening until they were joined by her swelling ankles to form thick, bloated cankles. And the fat even filled her feet. Diana could feel herself lift every so slightly as her well padded feet swelled with fat, fat that filled her toes and made them thick little sausages.

Scarlet conjured a full length mirror so Diana fully could fully take in what was happening to her, how fat she was getting even as the thick fattening liquid showed no signs of slowing down. Diana was incredibly pear shaped with all of the fat currently settling her stomach and below and leaving her still slim above the waist. It looked almost comical.

“Don’t worry. We’re not done yet.”

The liquid continued to pump into Diana and slide its way down her throat, and she could feel her body continue to fatten. It was like the fat began to work its way back up her body, and as her thighs and ass and belly all grew fatter, the fat began to bloom in all the places it hadn’t before.

Her breasts swelled and began to sag under the new weight. The rest of her fat belly was still getting fatter faster than her breasts were, but her breasts were growing heavy and bright stretch marks began to spread. Her loose, saggy tits hung down and came to rest like small pendulums on Diana’s much larger gut. Those breasts were the kind that were more trouble than they’re worth with the pain that Diana could already feel twitching through the rolls of fat in her back.

Diana’s thin arms soon became quite the opposite. The fat filled them, and her slender limbs became fat ones with big flabby bingo wings. The chunky limbs include a pair of hands with fingers that match her toes in becoming chubby sausages. She was never a particularly strong woman, but now her flabby arms made her look and feel exceptionally weak.

As the liquid continued to flow down her throat, Diana could feel its effects thickening her neck. And, inevitably, that meant that the fat finally worked its way up to her face where it plumped up her cheeks and drooped downward into a thick double chin. Her face took on a full moon kind of roundness. It grew fat and bloated, and Diana looked at it in the mirror that Scarlet provided her, tears ran down her chubby cheeks.

She was a fatty. That was the truth of it. She was a piggy, a big fat piggy. This was everything she had always feared. Years of watching her weight, of eating so much salad undone completely in just a matter of minutes as she was turned into a full blown fatso.

PPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRPPPPPPBBBTTT!!!!!!

And a big stinky pig to boot. A fat gasbag! She felt disgusting.

Eventually Scarlet pulled the tube out of Diana’s mouth and she was able to move again. Her hands immediately flew to cradling the fat around her middle. She squeezed and shook her spongy gut. She began to fondle her fatty flesh, shaking her thighs slapping her ass, pinching her thick love handles. Diana needed to confirm that this was all real, and she was horrified to see that it was. Thinness was her ideal, and now it was lost to her forever. She was stuck as a fat loser.

And yet, as her body felt heavier she felt somehow like her head was getting lighter.

“Wait, my head… it’s…”

The workings of her thoughts seemed to be getting slower by the second. It was like her mind was mired in a pool of molasses. No, not molasses – bubblegum, bright, pink bubblegum.

“You’ve always been a schemer, Diana. I think the best thing to do is to take the particular ability away from you.”

“No. Like, that’s not like fair. Ya know? I always been a smarty, and now you’re like making me a big fat bimbo, big fat fatty dumbo bimbo me. Like that’s so not like cool or right or like anything.”

Suddenly, Diana found herself clad in clothing closer to what she saw Cynthia wearing earlier but in all pink. She wore a bright pink tube top that fully exposed most of her pot belly, a gelatinous gut that was mostly swallowing a navel piercing she never had before. Her tits were pressed up and practically spilling out of the top. And her pants were tight shorts with the word “Juicy” stretched out across her wide blubber butt.

Diana’s hair was now platinum blonde and teased to the max, and the amount of makeup that she had on her face would best be described as too much. She began to pout with her plump fire engine red lips.

“No. Please. I like don’t want to be a big fat dummy. I’ll be fat but like not a fat bimbo.”

“Too bad, honey. Actions have consequences. Now you’re a big fat airhead.”

PPPPRRRRRRRHPPPPPPTTT!!!!

“Full of hot air too!” Scarlet laughed and then gave Diana’s blubbery butt another spank.

“Now, I’m gonna let your big fat dumbass self stew with this. I’ve still got two more of your friends to visit tonight.”

Scarlet left Diana there alone.

Diana knew she had gotten herself into some big fat trouble, but she couldn’t for the life of her think of a way out.

What's Next With "Fat Trimmings?" (BIG UPDATES! New Opportunity for Patrons!)

15 volumes of "Fat Trimmings" is, I think, a pretty big deal. I'm proud of the amount of content I've been able to bring on a weekly basis, and I hope you've enjoyed all the stories.

"Fat Trimmings" will of course continue as a weekly feature on this Patreon. And as I've mentioned before, the "What If" will no longer be a continuing feature and will instead be swapped out for stories set in an around the fictional restaurant of Thick Burger. This will let me to keep things fresh for both myself and you and explore the same kind of place from multiple angles (characters, POVS, etc.) And that includes being able to potentially interconnect new stories with ones I've already written. If you've read Volume 15 you know that Thick Burger shows up in "What If" so the possibility of revisiting that character is certainly there.

My hope with this long term is to create an experience that is rewarding to both new readers and long time readers who enjoy and feel rewarded by easter eggs and larger connections.

But what else is happening with "Fat Trimmings" this month?

Along with continuing the series as normal, and completing the patreon only "Exclusive Cuts Volume 6", my plan is to release "Fat Trimmings" on here in two "omnibus" editions. This will include one that is just "What If" collected together and another that is everything else so far. These will be in PDF format so patrons can download them and have everything collected in an easy place for rereading, and it should also make it easier for new patrons to catch up.

But BS, it's March. You know. March Madness? Aren't you going to do something vaguely themed around that?

You mean other than the perfectly timed arrogant athlete themed "Exclusive Cuts Volume 6"? Of course!

Just like we did with "Bad Influence" from volume four of "Exclusive Cuts", I'll be letting my patrons choose which of the many stories in "Fat Trimmings" gets a longer more fleshed out version. Patrons will be able to make a multitude of suggestions and then I'll put together a poll. Based on the number of suggestions that I get, we will potentially have more than one poll in a tournament style vote.

To help facilitate this, you can expect a breakdown of all of the "Fat Trimmings" stories that I've written so far and the omnibus edition dropping next week. 

But you can feel free to start making suggestions right now! In the comments below, if you already know stories that you would love to see expanded on, you can make suggestions below. You can make the same suggestions as other people. If we end up with enough suggestions to make a tournament, the number of times I see a story suggested will determine seeding essentially.

Currently, the only rules are as follows: Stories must be from "Fat Trimmings" only NOT "Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts" (I will likely do a similar thing for Exclusive Cuts once I get to volume 10.) You cannot suggest "What If" since that, once put together, is already a full story.

I look forward to seeing what you wish to see more of.

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 15 (Special XL Edition)

So remember how I said this was going to come out around 3:00pm and that it would be over 4,500 words? Well, surprise! It's releasing two hours early and is clocking in at over 5,200 words.

You've heard of a 21 gun salute? Well it turns out that I felt like "What If" needed a twenty-one hundred word send off. I hope you enjoy the grand finale!

As previously stated, the continuing "What If" feature will be replaced by a series of Thick Burger centered stories. I hope to get your thoughts on "What If" as a whole as well as on Thick Burger and your feedback on my other stories as well in the comments.

Enjoy.

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“Janey’s Got a Gut”

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Janey is a glutton. She wasn’t always that way. In fact, her diet used to be painstakingly controlled. But that control was done mostly by Janey’s fatphobic mother, an incredibly vain woman who had grown up as a head cheerleader, prom queen, and sorority girl who was in the phase of her life where she was desperately trying to live vicariously through her daughter and was hanging on far too tightly.

And as a result of her mother’s meddling, Janey was indeed a slim, trim popular girl and also a huge bitch. She was vain and with a terrible attitude, especially when it came to fat people. She loved to put them down as a way to distract herself from her own terrible insecurities. She was quite the bully and, if anything, her vain mother was proud of it.

But once Janey got to college and away from her mother, things began to change. The specter of her mother hung over her for a couple months, and get her away from indulging too much. But as her vain best friend and roommate, Tanisha, began to put on the freshman 15, it seemed inevitable that Janey would eventually follow. And once she began to indulge even a little bit, the dam quickly broke.

It turned out that Janey absolutely loved to eat. Sure, she did her fair share of drinking beer at parties as well, but it was in the dining hall where she really went to work. The dining hall offered all you could eat, and, damn, could Janey eat. She would spend her time having the largest lunches and most decadent dinners she could. She would combine cuisines, sample multiple desserts and always have seconds or third of every course. It was like she was making up for lost time.

And in response the pounds began to pile on quickly as she blossomed into the fat girl that she was always meant to be. She grew a big round belly, a gelatinous gut that always entered a room far before the rest of her, and then shook and swayed on its own whenever she would move. Janey went from having abs, to a paunch, to a pot belly, to a sloshing spare tire that divided itself into a big double belly and served as the perfect symbol of her incredible gluttony.

Her perky ass tried hard to keep pace, expanding into a tremendously fat and flabby rear end that constantly knocked stuff off of tables and eventually needed two seats to even fit it wherever she went. Her ass had ballooned into a complete blubber butt, and she quickly became known as a lard ass wherever she went.

But she didn’t seem to mind. As she waddled about thanks to her tremendous thunder thighs, all of the comments that came her way seemed to bounce right off her fat flabby body. She knew she deserved them. She felt like maybe she was dealing with some kind of karmic fallout, but really the truth was that she was happier than she had ever been. It turns out that a lot of her bad attitude was from being hungry all the time.

So Fat Janey went waddling about making amends, taking all the mean comments that came with it, and grew fatter and happier by the day. And it wasn’t just her. Janey’s habits were in line with her roommate’s, and by the time they graduated college, Janey and Tanisha had gone from being a couple of hotties to the fattest hogs on campus. They waddled about with the bulging bellies and fat asses. Their hips were so wide that they could barely walk through most doorways individually let alone side by side. After college they eventually got an apartment together and owned a couch for a short amount of time that they had to squeeze themselves into. Eventually, they grew out of that particular couch, and once they broke it, they upgraded to a larger and more structurally sound one.

Janey, of course, felt a fair share of heat from her mom, but with summers home, and then in between graduating college and getting an apartment with Tanisha, Janey’s habits became to rub off on her vain mother who began to blow up right alongside her porker daughter. She doesn’t have many comments to make nowadays since she’s busted out of everything but the stretchiest of pants.

And that’s where things stand today. Three slim women turned into big fat fatties. Their gluttony abounds, and it shows no signs of slowing down.

--------------------------

“The Pig Statue”

--------------------------

You shouldn’t touch strange pig statues that don’t belong to you.

I suppose the broader moral is that you shouldn’t touch things that don’t belong to you, but things like pig statues are especially a no go. Really, common sense at this point should tell you that things like that are bound to carry some sort of curse on them. You think people just make little golden statuettes of pigs just to be quaint? What a foolish thought.

So take this as a warning already and stop picking up strange pig statues because you’re just begging for trouble. Just ask Sofia.

Sofia was a model. She could have been a supermodel if she could control her wandering hands. Despite all the money she was making from her modeling gigs, she was the kind of person who loved looking in dingy little shops for deals. She was a sucker for fun thrift store finds and loved to visit dark little antique stores looking for unique finds.

Here’s another little hint. Dark little antique stores are the best place to accidentally pick up a cursed pig statue. Avoid them at all costs. If you must go to an antique store in the first place, perhaps to find an end table to complete your bedroom set, avoid the dusty ones. The dust level of an antique shop increases the chances of picking up a cursed item, especially a cursed pig, exponentially.

Sofia was in the dustiest shop imaginable.

And I tried to warn her, but, being the arrogant know it all bitch that she is, she had to go ahead and pick up the pig statue.

Immediately a tingle ran up her spine and the untold hunger of a gluttony god store in the pig for a millennia - or a simple witch’s spell that had been placed on it that morning (hard to say really - surged through her. With the most intense rumbling in her stomach, she hurried off to the food court.

Once there, she began to stuff her face with an incredibly sloppy meatball parm hero. It was something to watch this glamorous woman in her designer clothes shove a hoagie in her mouth like a hog. She gave no care to the sauce and cheese as they flew from the bread and onto her nice white shirt. She didn’t care about the bloating sensation in her belly as her precious abs began to melt away and a small but noticeable pot belly began to surge forward and strain the buttons of her top. Instead she cared only about finishing the sandwich and moving on to the bag of chips that came with it.

The chips were demolished in what seemed like mere moments. Her greedy hand crushed them and shoved them into her mouth without heed to the crumbs that were flying except to occasionally scoop some out of her cleavage with her grease and sauce covered hand. Once the chips were done, she chugged her soda in short order, adding another color of stain to the canvas that was her shirt, and finished with a loud and rather unladylike burp.

And so ended her first course.

The next course was a feast of Chinese food that left her covered in the remains of lo mein, sesame chicken, and spicy boneless spare ribs. After that came rice and beans and half a dozen empanadas, and this was all finished off with a generous sampling of three different cheesecakes.

The button of Sofia’s pants had completely blown off by the time she finally came to and realized the amount of gawkers she had watching her food driven spectacle. She burped again and walked, really waddled, away cradling her incredibly bloated food baby as pictures of videos of the incident already began to circulate online.

The curse kept up its work. Sofia found herself ordering huge amounts of junk food, eating pizzas not by the slice but by the pie and always with a side of both mozzarella sticks and garlic bread. She was transforming herself from a slim and sexy hottie to a hog, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

The inevitable quickly came from all that eating. Sofia’s bloated belly stayed permanently bloated from all the junk food that she stuffed it with. Even if there was nothing in it, it was still a big sagging, deflated looking ball of turgid fat that dropped down toward her fat knees. It has become an enormous thing weighed down by greed, gluttony, and gravity. Her abs, her most prized part of her body part, have turned into the thing she hates the most, the gelatinous sack of fat that is her still growing gut. Her segmented belly is something to behold and is so large that it pushes herself far enough away from tables to make getting food and other tasks something of a challenge. Of course, navigating this challenge is also the only exercise she really gets these days, unless you count chewing as exercise.

Her ass has ballooned in size. Nowadays when she waddles to the food court, she needs two chairs just to fully support her voluminous backside, one for each gargantuan, cellulite covered cheek. And her fat ass still spills over the sides of those chairs. She has broken numerous pieces of furniture much to her chagrin and to the delight of others. Luckily, whenever she breaks a chair her well cushioned ass breaks her fall and she basically goes from sitting on a chair to sitting on two beefy beanbags.

Sofia’s thighs are massive tree trunks as well, juicy thunder thighs that greatly hinder her movement and limit her to a slow ponderous waddle. Her movement is extra slow because the burden of her incredibly high weight leaves her winded after every few steps. Her thighs are each twice the size that her tiny model waist used to be. The loose fat of her thick thunder thighs droops over her fat knees and comes with obvious saddlebags and cankles that rest above swollen, fatty feet.

Sofia still models today, but it’s a very different kind of modeling. She hates it, but she reluctantly had to turn to mukbanging and fetish modeling to pay her massive food bill along with the rent for what has become her messy pigsty of an apartment. She stuffs her face and plays with her fat, humiliating herself just to get by.

So yeah, don’t go into any antique shops. And if you must, don’t touch anything. Definitely don’t touch any pig statues, not even the cute little porcelain ones, just to be safe.

That’s a lesson that Sofia had to learn the hard way.

----------------------

“Obesity Virus”

----------------------

It couldn’t have happened to a nicer couple.

And by a nicer couple I meant it couldn’t have happened to a bigger pair of obnoxious, stuck up assholes. He was a personal trainer, and she was a glamorous model, and they loved to flaunt their bodies and make fun of people, especially fat people.

Then they got sick. He came down with it first, but she got it much worse from him. At first they thought it was a cold, but it wasn’t. It turns out, as they learned far too late, that it was a virus, an obesity virus. He probably got it from one of his fat clients who came in with a cold one day, and then he gave it to her. But the origin of the virus doesn’t matter. What matters is what it did.

It cranked up their appetites and crushed their metabolism. It drained their energy to exercise as well. In short, it was their worst nightmare come true. They began to eat more and exercise less and so their hot bodies soon became coated in fat.

They tried going to doctors, but once the doctors heard about their lifestyle changes the only advice they could give was to stop eating like pigs and get their fat asses off the couch. But they couldn’t do that. They were too hungry, and the fatter they got the lazier they became. They became the worst kind of fat people stereotypes, everything they used to loathe and make fun of.

By the time one doctor finally realized what was going on they were already well on their way to obesity, and it’s not like the doctor had a real cure anyway. She could only tell the couple more of the same. A virus is not an infection. There are no antibiotics to take for the obesity virus. They just had to let it run its course and then focus on diet and exercise.

But it became impossible to tell whether or not the virus had run its course and they were just being pigs of their own accord. And their efforts to engage in diet and exercise were met with quick and humiliating failure.

Now he’s a fat boy, a big pig of a man with a jumbo spare tire that hangs over his pants and a flabby set of moobs that rests on top of it. He’s no longer hardbodied and handsome. He is a portly, piggish man with a boorish appetite and the lack of manners to match. His gym t-shirts are all now stretched to their breaking point and stained with food and grease and sweat. They don’t cover his big fat belly which shamelessly spills out from under them. His sweaty muffin top encompasses his middle.

His ass is fat and disgusting too. It’s blown out behind him and ruined all but his stretchiest sweats. It’s a big fat wobbly cushion. He’s a perpetually winded rhino with a great big rump. And that ass is joined by his thighs that have grown fat enough to rub together and cause an untold amount of chafing. He’s fallen so far from the capable athlete that he was. It’s ironic that his every day “uniform” is pretty much exclusively gym clothes given that he doesn’t go to the gym anymore now that he’s a weak, pathetic fatty just like the people he used to make fun of and call losers. He’s the lazy loser now, a fat assed couch potato whose only exercise comes from lifting his arms from his meals to his fat, double chinned, face when he stuffs it.

She’s not any better. In fact, she’s worse. She’s become an absolute hog, a truly obese woman who out classes him in weight but not in matters. She’s a great slob when it comes to eating. It’s like she’s given up entirely and just gives in to her constant greedy cravings with reckless abandon. She used to be so driven and put together, so glamorous, and now she’s too lazy to care about her appearance. She cares about constantly eating, not about how much of her meals end up running clothes that she’s going to outgrow anyway.

Her belly is massive, a jiggling mass of flesh divided into two thick rolls that encircle her middle, a thick upper segment, and an even larger, doughier segment that fights to free itself from the confines of any shirt she tries to wear. She hates the size of her ponderously large paunch, but she knows she’s too far gone to get rid of it, so instead she just doubles down and makes her double belly even bigger. That’s why it’s such a sizable sack of fat that she has taken to angrily shaking with one hand while she stuffs her face with the other. It’s funny when you think about how trim her middle used to be, and how much she used to love to show it off. Now, she hates her gut, but because of its sheer size and ability to quickly outpace and escape any new shirts she might wear, she can’t help but show it off.

Her blubber butt has blown up as well. She’s a true lard ass now, which is ironic because that was always one of her favorite things to call other people when she made fun of them. She’s a wide load with a huge, spongey, shelf of an ass. Each massively bulbous butt cheek swings on its own as she waddles about. Her wide hips knock things over, and she elicits all of the laughs and mean comments that she used to relish throwing at others. Her blubbery behind is a chair breaking thing to behold.

And it comes with tree trunk thunder thighs that swing awkwardly as she waddles about. They’re built atop thick cankles and fat feet with chubby sausage toes. Her breasts have gotten bigger but are mostly full of sagging fat that has left them covered in stretch marks, and her gains up top have been easily outpaced by the pounds that have piled on everywhere else. Even her arms have gotten fat and developed big flabby bingo wings. She used to be proud of her toned arms. Now there is nothing that she is proud of, and all that does is drive her to stuff her fat face even more. Her double chin wobbles as she eats fattening meal after fattening meal.

They’re both big fatties now, and obviously they can’t get work as a personal trainer or model anymore.

So where do they work?

They work at Thick Burger of course. They spend their time being berated by customers while serving them their food. They are belittled and bullied as they take out the trash or scrub a toilet. They can feel the weight of the world weighing down on them even as they watch the weight of their regular customers increase. But the schadenfreude of watching slim hotties turn into fatties, suffering the same fate as them isn’t enough to dull their pain. For that, they can only rely on each other.

But hey. At least the employee discounts are good.

---------------------------

“What If” (Part 15)

---------------------------

What if this is it?

What if these are the last steps she ever takes on her own?

That’s what she’s thinking as she takes her slow, lumbering waddle back to what looks to be her permanent spot on the couch.

Could this really be it? Could she have actually succeeded in eating herself int immobility? If these were her last moments of moving under her own power what should she do? Should she celebrate? Is this what she’s always secretly wanted? If she didn’t want it, how else could it have gotten this far?

When she started all of this, she was so slim. She was the pretty, popular girl with a wealth of friends and a family that was proud of her. She was the envy of all, and yet she was beloved. She could get anyone she wanted. She had been a cheerleader in high school in college. She had even gotten work as a model. She was the model that other models envied.

Would they envy her now? If they were here to watch the girl who used to strut down the runway struggle to waddle back to the couch one last time? No. She knows they’d spend all their time laughing and oinking at her. They’d be snapping pictures and saying all sorts of mean words.

“Piggy. Cow. Whale.”

But do any of those words do her justice anymore? It feels like she surpassed them all long ago.She still eats like a pig, but regular fat people are pigs. She used to call chubby girls pigs all the time. She is not chubby. And her ass is filled with lard, but how many people in the world have an ass as heavy as hers? It’s an amorphous blob so large that she’s not sure it’s fit to be called anything. Even cow– Yes. Cows are certainly larger than pigs. She would call an obese person a cow, and she is certainly an obese person. But even obese doesn’t fully describe her now. She’s not just obese. She’s not even just super obese or morbidly obese. Normal people get obese.

She’s special.

She is an immense woman.

Whale would seemingly be the most appropriate, but even that seems strangely limiting to her. And as far as she’s concerned her massive body has no limits save for the immobility that she is soon to experience.

Her face, once slim and slender and of model quality is now completely unrecognizable. She doesn’t even think her own family would recognize her buried under all of that fat that comprises her jowly cheeks and multitude of chins. Her face is now fat and flat with fat. Her chubby cheeks have caused her eyes to look beady, and she has an overall piggish appearence. Her many chins sag downward toward her bloated chest and wobble against her thick, fat neck.

She has fat shoulders and fat arms. They used to be thin and toned, and now the fat rolls over her elbow. Her bingo wings wobble endlessly as she lifts food from her plate to her mouth, one of the few tasks she can still do easily by herself nowadays. Her forearms and wrists are bloated with fat to the point of becoming whatever the arm equivalent of cankles is, and her big fat ham hock arms end with big, clumsy, fat mitts for hands which each end in thick sausage fingers with enough added surface area to make them perfect for scooping leftover sauce or whatnot from her plates like the good piggy that she is.

Her chest is massive. Her two pendulous breasts way her down and the only thing that gives them an illusion of being anything other than two sagging bags filled with bowling balls that want to reach as far down her body as humanly possible, is the fact that she has her massive belly to prop them up. Even then, the massive sagging tits rebel and try to find a way to droop more down the side of her belly, but she is so immense, so spherical with fat, but even the sides of her belly push the stretch marked breasts up at least somewhat.

Her belly is a sight to behold. She wonders if it even deserves to be called just a belly at this point, or a gut, or even a spare tire. It’s really just a sack of fat– No – it’s a fully segmented double belly, so it’s really more like two gelatinous sacks of fat loosely stacked on top of each other and both sloshing about whenever she makes the slightest movement. She is a jiggling mess with rolls and folds that she can’t even begin to reach herself which is now why she needs a team of her loyal subscribers to help her.

She’s so weak, pathetic and helpless.

And her gut is so gargantuan that it hangs down near her knees, well past her nether regions. When she sits down it spills out almost entirely past her fat lap.

And that lap is extremely fat. It is wide, couch spanning wide, as her massive tree trunk thighs, well past the thunder stage, spread out oozing across the cushions and pressing together. Her thighs are the things that will ultimately do her in. They used to be slim but athletically built, toned and capable of carrying her long distances and at great speeds. Now she takes forever to waddle anywhere, and soon she won’t be moving them at all. Her thighs, each far larger than her waist used to be, are above her thick cankles and they’re all supported by her fat swollen feet that just can’t take the immense weight anymore.

She needs to sit down on her fat ass, an ass plush enough to serve as its own couch. Each mammoth cheek moves of its own accord although the sheer weight of her flabby lard filled cheeks does make them sag even as the size of them causes them to stick out like a broken down shelf. Her ass used to be so perky and tight. It used to turn heads. Now the only thing it does is knock things over when she turns around. Her bloated behind is a blubbery mess, and she knows that the next time she sits on it, she’s not getting up on her own again.

It’s a miracle that she’s still standing right now, honestly, a testament to how athletic she used to be when she was a slim hottie. That past is the only reason she’s still standing in the present, but it won’t save her from her immobile future.

She is over 700 pounds, well over six times. She never bothers remembering the exact number anymore. Why bother? What’s the difference between five, ten, even twenty-five or thirty pounds at this point? It’s wild to think that she could half her body weight and then half it again and still be considered clinically obese. What a fatty she is, a complete tub of lard, a flabby fatso.

A ball of fat. That is what she could likely best be described as, not a pig or cow or even a whale, a ball of fat. But then again, maybe not. Balls have shape. She’s a blob of fat, full of jiggling lard and devoid of any other shape unless that shape were to simply be called fat. She is just fat.

Fat.

Fat.

FAT.

Fat is what she is. It’s all she is at this point. Her previous existence as a functioning human, a slim and sexy popular girl, a mean girl, a chubby curious girl, it’s a distant memory. It all feels like another time, another reality. She just is fat now. All she is, all she will be, is fat.

She waddles closer and closer to the couch. One foot in front of the other knowing each step would be one of her last ones. There’s a determination in her furrowed, sweaty brow. Getting back to the couch will be one last athletic accomplishment, a sheer show of will to get her gluttonous body there in one final show of autonomy.

Soon she begins the slow, arduous task of turning her mammoth body around. Her gigantic ass is like a space shuttle ready to dock with a space station for the last time. She shivers with anticipation as she knows once she sits down she will never get up by herself again. This is the final moments of her mobility.

One last step.

One rock back and then…

Plop.

The entire couch creaks loudly under the pressure of her immense weight as her massive ass settles into the permanent indent it has carved for itself. This is it. She rests easy now and breathes knowing that she has fully surrendered to her helplessness. She is a pathetic pig, and she is content with that.

To cement her new status as an immobile hog, and to celebrate her crushing of the 700 pound barrier, one of her feeders– she is unsure of which one since she has so many that come and go at this point— brings her an extra large pizza to eat on camera for her many adoring fans. It has extra cheese and the number 700 is spelled out in pepperoni.

She does her duty and begins to consume the slices one at a time. Cheese and grease drip down her chin as she scarfs them down. The slices go down easily. Her gluttony is well practiced at this point. The challenge only happens once the second pie is brought to her, a full blown meat lovers. This takes her longer, but it’s mostly because she puts on a show. She moans and groans and rubs her belly. At some point she demands that her feeds rub her belly for her while still stuffing her more.

As she stuffs herself she thinks about all the food she’s eaten to get here. How many pizzas has it been? How many doughnuts? She couldn’t even count the doughnuts by the boxes at this point. Thousands of meals have enlarged her corpulence. Over five thousand, over six, seven. How many more? How could she even count her snacks? For her snacks are what others would consider meals. What even is a meal for her at this point? She doesn’t have meals. She has feasts. Pregnant ladies eat for two and she eats for an entire nuclear family and their dog. She has been eating like an Olympic champion training for fatness. She deserves a gold medal, or at least a blue ribbon like the good show hog that she is.

She remembers how she was at the beginning of all this, how thing she was, hot hot she was. She remembers all the way back to that first cupcake, to the moment she first decided to indulge herself, to let herself go. Back then she thought she would maybe just get fat. Sure, she thought there was a chance she would be weak and pathetic, but nothing like this. She didn’t think when she first took a bite of that cupcake that her hunger would grow to be so all encompassing. She never imagined she’d make her living as a fat fetish model stuffing herself and debasing herself for the amusement of others.

She never dreamed of immobility.

And she certainly never realized how much she would love it all.

As the second pizza stretches her stomach against the muumuu that she’s wearing, she thinks of all the clothes that she’s outgrown, the glamorous outfits she destroyed with food, the buttons she burst, the pants she ripped. She thinks about how each outgrown outfit has been left in her immense wake, artifacts of the slim and sexy woman she used to be and every step on her journey from 115 pounds to over 700.

As the view count in front of her continues to rise, she reflects on how much her social media accounts have grown, how many more followers pay to live vicariously through her decadence, who worship her, who pay through the nose to demean her, who keep her so well fed. She wishes she could dance for them one more time, but she knows those days are long behind her. The most she can do is give them a few shakes of her massive jelly belly and moan at their approval as she gorges herself more and more.

She eats the entire pizza and grabs one of her feeders by the chin.

“Now where’s my cheesecake?” she asks with hunger still in her eyes.

“This piggy wants her dessert.”

The feeder bows to his mistress.

“My apologies, Mistress, but we are not done yet.”

“What’s next?”

“We are bringing you some Thick Burger.”

Are eyes glimmer with that familiar hunger as she licks her lips and gives her awaiting belly a squeeze.

“Sounds delicious.”

Fat Trimmings Update

Good news! Fat Trimmings Volume 15 will be going up today. However, it will be slightly later than its usual 10:00am release. I would say expect it to release closer to 3:00pm.

More good news: It will be over 4,500 words and feature four stories, including the finale of "What If". That grand finale is what is taking me so much longer to write as it's already over 1,000 words and still more to go to make sure it is the proper send off.

Still, look for it today. I hope you will enjoy it.

Weekly Update

Hello Everyone,

Here's my usual weekly update.

I was rather sick this weekend, so I didn't get to do as much writing as I would have liked. However, I'm hopeful that Fat Trimmings Volume 15 will still come out tomorrow for its usual Fat Tuesday release. (However, it may be Wednesday.) You can also expect a new chapter of Nightmare Pigs dropping either Thursday or Friday as well as the next part of Scenes From a Casual Dining Restaurant. 

I had hoped to have the second part of Scenes over the weekend. Unfortunately, illness combined with the fact that this particular scene is just proving tougher for me to crack made the impossible. However, I'm very confident that it will be up this week and that I will be able to get subsequent parts out on a weekly basis. (I think there will be two more after this one, but I so often write more than I plan, so we shall see.)

The Scales of Time: Chapter 8

Let's just get to what you've been waiting for.

Enjoy.

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Vivian was chubby. The formerly perfect woman has gained a significant amount of unflattering flab, pudge in all the wrong places. She was pudgy, tubby, borderline fat.

At the risk of tipping her hand quite a bit, Julie laughed out loud at the sight of her rival. She was overjoyed to see just how much Vivian’s formerly lithe, athletic frame had grown, expanding outward with soft jiggling flab the wanted so badly to droop downward. Julie knew it was only a start, but the fact that she knew she was the cause of Vivian going from a slim and sexy queen to looking so chubby and out of shape made her entire body tingle as a strong warmth grew between her legs. It was such a thrill to be in such control, and Julie understood immediately how Vivian had let her previous power go to her head. Just knowing that Vivian was one step closer to looking more like Julie, morbidly obese, than her original slim hottie body was enough to bring Julie to the edge.

She had to take a closer look at the rival’s exact changes. She needed to enjoy every moment of this.

It may have been odd that the first thing Julie really noticed about Vivian’s cubbier form was her hands. But Julie had spent so much of her life having Vivian’s slender fingers pointed at her, or had her opinions- no her entire being- dismissed with the wave of her or, and she had felt those same hands pinch, and prod, and poke and jiggle her belly fat enough times that she was well familiar with them. And the fact that Vivian was angrily pointing her wand directly at her while staring at the back of her other hand in shock further helped to bring Jule’s attention to those previously delicate digits.

It wasn’t that Vivian’s hands were extremely different, but the changes, though nuanced, were there. Her hands had a softness to them that did not exist before. Julie wouldn’t call Julie’s fingers sausages just yet, but they certainly weren’t the piano fingers she had before. No, Vivian wouldn’t have a career as a hand model to fall back on once this was done.

Julie laughed at the idea of Vivian doing any sort of modeling once she was through with her. With how incredibly obese planned on making Vivian the former vixen, she’d be too fat to even cut it as a plus sized model. Hell, Julie was hoping to fatten up Vivian so much that the only modeling she would be able to do would be degrading herself for fat fetishists. Now that was an idea, Vivian, former queen be, prim and proper, stuck up snob reduced to a mound of fat, an incredibly obese hog desperate for clicks and humiliating herself, showing off her rolls and folds of fat and stuffing herself silly, just for some attention and money to scrape by.

But the hands- Julie couldn’t get too distracted by potential futures. She had to stay focused and savor this present. The biggest change that Julie noticed in Vivian’s borderline chubby hands was the slight lack of confidence with which she was holding her wand. Even clenched in anger, the wand waved just enough for Julie to see that Vivian’s steady arm was trembling slightly.

And while Vivian’s hands had only slightly changed, the changes to Vivian’s arms were far more noticeable. Fortunately, Vivian was still wearing the same outfit that she had originally shown up in. This meant that, thanks to the black sleeveless blouse, Julie could clearly see the distinct lack of muscle definition in Vivian’s arms. They were still substantially smaller than Julie’s blubbery limbs, but Vivian’s arms had definitely gotten soft and flabby. Chubby was the perfect word to describe what had become of her previously slender- but well defined by wiry muscle- limbs.

It was a fabulous tease of things to come. As Vivian shook in a mix of shock and anger, Julie could see the quivering of the fat on her biceps and she couldn’t help but imagine that blowing up to full blown bingo wings, big fatty limbs with flabby biceps that drooped so much they rolled over her chubby elbows.

Vivian’s breasts were disappointingly bigger, but they seemed to have at least a little more sag to them. Julie looked forward to turning them into massive udders. If Vivian had huge sagging breasts, massive stretch marked mammaries, she knew that the weight of them and the struggle to carry them around would well surpass any pride in their size that Vivian might feel. Julie knew she certainly felt that about her own breasts. Although, to her delight, her own breasts had shrunken to a still luscious but much more manageable size. Vivian would not be so lucky. As she slipped through time, Julie had several visions of Vivian where Vivian’s yo-yo dieting caused her precious breasts to shrink to itty bitty titties before her belly got anywhere close to flat. How unfortunate for her.

Julie’s gaze quickly dropped past Vivian’s widened middle and down to her chunked up thighs. Luckily for Julie, Vivian had chosen to make a power statement today by wearing black leather pants, and now those pants were looking like an incredibly poor decision. They looked stretched out and overtaxed thanks to the thicker thighs that they were holding underneath, and Julie imagined that Vivian was in need of some serious baby powder to prevent any chafing. Vivian’s thighs were on the verge of being called thunder thighs. They were crammed in the leather pants, but even with the leather to hold them in place it was clear that she was developing saddlebags.

If anything, Julie wished that Vivian was relegated to the fat girl uniform of stretchy leggings so that she could see how truly soft Vivian’s thighs had become. She was sure that if they were not confined to the tight leather pants the pale flesh would be quivering like jello and she knew from her visions of the past that Vivian was now cursed with dimply cellulite. Julie looked forward to a future where Vivian’s chunky thighs became truly thick thunder thighs. She imagined them crammed like sausages in the leather pants, threatening to start fires as they rubbed together. Julie wanted to see Vivian waddling about like a big fat cow with her legs having to awkwardly swing around because her thighs had grown fatter than her waist used to be.

The one other thing Julie wished was that Vivian was turned around so that she could get a full sense of what had become of her ass. Although, even looking straight on, it was clear that Vivian’s ass had grown fatter and wider. Julie could see the sides of Vivian’s formerly perky now overly plump posterior as it ballooned out and stretched the confines of her leather pants to their limit. The one good thing that Vivian’s leather pants were doing for her was holding her chunky ass cheeks in place and giving them the illusion of shape. Julie imagined that without the structure of the leather to hoist her blossoming butt cheeks up, Vivian’s lard filled ass would be a sloppy mess of flabby butt cheeks waving about in the wind, jiggling at the slightest movements, chunked up and covered in cellulite.

Julie wanted to blow Vivian’s butt cheeks up into a true blubber butt. She wanted to give her twin saggy sacks of lard to weigh her down. She pictured Vivian growing so large and having an ass so astronomically fat that it got wedged into chairs, a wideload butt so impossibly huge that she would need multiple seats on an airplane, benches instead of chairs. She wanted to inflate Vivian’s cushiony cheeks into massively plush pillows of fat, a big bad bean bag booty. Julie was wet at the idea, not just from the desire to turn Vivian into a fat assed pig, but from the knowledge that her reality was closer than ever, that Vivian’s fat fate was completely in her hands.

Vivian already looked so out of shape, sweaty and winded. The formerly athletic vixen was now a sad chubby loser, her definition and cardio clearly lost, and Julie was eager to deal the final blow that sent the vain Vivian tumbling into obesity.

One thing was bugging Julie though as her eyes worked their way back up Vivian’s chubby body.

Vivian’s waist.

Yes, Vivian’s waist was certainly larger, she could see that it was pressing up against her blouse which was overly tight. Still, Vivian’s waist seemed to have far more definition to it than Julie was expecting. She was expecting a big bulging pot belly, a jiggly little gut hanging over the waistband of Vivian’s leather pants, and yet there was no such thing. While Vivian’s middle was definitely bigger it lacked the doughy muffin top that Julie was looking forward to savoring.

What Julie was able to savor was the laughter.

Most of the coven was laughing at Vivian’s pudgy, out of shape appearance. They chortled at her chubbiness, chuckled at her chunk. It was all music to Julie’s ears.

As the members of the coven, and assembled guests, looked down at the two witches, it was clear who had won the first round of their challenge. Slim and sexy Vivian had been such an incredibly arrogant bitch that even if she hadn’t affected each member of the coven personally with her arrogance, it was easy for them to slip into a sense into a strong sense of schadenfreude at Vivian’s slipshod and chubby form. For most, Julie had always been the sentimental favorite even if pretty much no one gave her a chance to win.

But things were different now. The tides were changing, and the audience could feel the magic shifting in the moment. As the magic mended itself, stitching reality together to make it all make sense, everyone found themselves with new memories. Having been there since the start of the ritual, everyone remembered things as they always had been, but now they had new glimpses of the history as it was, written thanks to Julie’s actions. They received glimpses of what they needed to know, just enough new ideas to patch things up, justify things without completely breaking their minds. Still, keeping several sets of reality in one’s brain is not easy, and several of the less experienced members of the coven passed out from the strain.

Yakov Boq had to admit that he was getting to bear witness to quite the wonder. Usually when he was involved in this level of reality shifting, he was the one pulling the strings, sitting in the driver’s seat as it were. It was a nice change of pace to be a passenger enjoying the ride for a change. The quiet, waifish blonde from earlier who was now seated near him seemed to be enjoying things from a different angle as she flexed her hand out in front of her.

The truth was that she could feel the magic shifting in another, more personal, way. Her new memories included a challenge with a more powerful Eloise. Thanks to the shift in reality, as Vivian’s social status changed, and her figure issues became a bigger distraction the bigger she got, Eloise’s confidence rose and her power within the coven grew with it. And now the blonde woman could feel the increased power, hard won from Eloise coursing through her veins. She smiled at the thought of what she would be able to do with it.

Vivian’s mother and sister looked down at poor chubby Vivian with nothing but vitriol. Her mother, Annabelle, was filled with rage and disappointment aimed squarely at her daughter who should have already won the most important challenge of their lifetime. Vivian could feel it, and that gaze made the hairs on the back of her fat neck stand up and caused her to sweat even more. Meanwhile, Annabelle’s stooges were wide eyed with panic at the sight of Vivian’s sudden vulnerability.

Julie looked up at her mother for a sign of pride. Her mother simply looked at her with a silent, stoic stare. Her Aunt Calpurnia however was absolutely doubled over and alternating between bouts of hooting and hollering and uncontrollable laughter. She was practically braying like a donkey in a drunken display made even more noticeable when juxtaposed by her sister’s stern countenance.

Julie took the inspiration from her aunt and decided to double down on this moment. She had bested skinny Vivian once. Now she wanted to keep chubby Vivian reeling, and, at the very least, she wanted to have more fun.

“Looking a little pudgy there, Tubs. You feeling okay?”

“Y-you- YOU!” Vivian stuttered, flummoxed at the thought she could have been bested even in the slightest, even momentarily, and inflamed that her perfect figure had been ruined by this impudent cow.

But Julie wasn’t going to let her fire back just yet.

“You look winded, out of shape. You been keeping up with your cardio, Chubs?”

“You cow! You whale! You dare do this to me and then have the unmitigated gall to mock me further, you disgusting pig!”

“I’d watch the language there, Chunky Buns. You’re starting to look pretty porky yourself, Piglet.”

“YOU, FAT BITCH!”

With a roar, Vivian sent a massive bolt of arcane energy that slammed fruitlessly against the magical barrier surrounding Julie.

“That all you got, Porkchop?”

“FUCK YOU! COW!”

“Right back at you, Lardo.”

Vivian’s response was to send another blast of arcane energy at Julie. This one was a sustained bolt that slammed into the barrier and began to drill its way through. Julie, more confident than she had been in her whole like and really feeling herself, failed to notice.

“Come on, Fat Ass. You can do better than that. Let’s go, Chumba Wumba.”

Vivian pushed herself further, funneling all of her arrogance and hatred into her attempts to simply force her way through the barrier and end this thing through sheer force of will. Her entire body trembled and strained with the effort.

And her efforts were working. The barrier began to shudder and wane. A hole began to wear through. Panic stretched across Julie’s face as she realized she may have gone too far.

All of this was about to be for nothing.

And then…

Pop. Pop! POP!

Vivian froze.

And Julie finally realized why Vivian’s waist hadn’t looked like she expected it would.

With a final pop, Vivian’s corset completely gave way and shot out under the front of her blouse. Once that happened it was only another moment before-

Pop pop pop pop pop.

There went the buttons of her blouse flying away from the force of her rapidly expanding belly. There it was! Vivan’s pale, squishy gut in all its glory! It was every bit the quivering mass of turgid fat that Julie had envisioned it being. It spilled over the waistband of her leather pants and in the process took out that button as well and blew apart her zipper. It was a ponderous pot belly with a mind for destruction as it made the most of its sudden freedom. As Vivian yelped in embarrassment it shook in response. It was a big flabby flapping mess, and it came with a set of matching love handles so thick that they pushed the sides of her blouse up and rolled over her leather pants giving her a generous muffin top.

Her busted corset fell to the ground, and her vaunted bust began to sag without the added support leaving Vivian looking both inflated in the middle and deflated up top.

Now Vivian was exposed for the fat girl that six years of yo-yo dieting had turned her into, and for the first time in her life she didn’t know what else to door and stood there like a deer caught in the headlights as the wind tickled the fat belly that had replaced what, to her were six pack abs, her most prized part of her perfect body now turned to flab just like the rest of her. Of course, she had a whole host of new memories as well, memories she was desperately trying to suppress just like she was suppressing the desire to sob.

The crowd stood in stunned silence before many erupted in another round of raucous laughter. Julie’s Aunt Calpurnia’s head hit the table as she laughed so intensely that she passed out. Even the usually staid blonde woman next to Yakov let out a soft chuckle at the ridiculous sight.

The only person whose face didn’t move a muscle was Julie’s mother.

But that wasn’t going to stop Julie from having her own fun once again.

“Thar she blows! There’s that big greedy gut we all knew you were hiding, Piggy! So glad it could come out and say hello.”

“Y-you’re- you’re so much fatter than-”

“Hey. At least I’ve always owned being fat, Fatso. But now it looks like there’s no more room for Miss Piggy to keep playing pretend. You-”

Vivian interrupted Julie with another blast of her wand, but Julie blocked it with a simple counter charm. The resulting magical blowback sent Vivian flying through the air end over end until she slammed face first into the mud.

The crowd grasped and then fell into total silence.

That was it.

It was over.

All over.

Until Vivian, her face still in the muck, lifted her hand to reveal that despite everything she was still holding her wand.

Vivian pushed herself to her feet. As she did so, Julie got the exact view of Vivian’s big fat ass that she wanted, especially once the leather pants went-

RRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPP!!!!!!

The back side of Vivian’s leather pants blew out making it clear that her as was indeed a blubbery mess of bouncing, sagging flab.

“WIDELOAD!”

Vivian turned her chubby face to look over her shoulder at Julie. Mud filled the crease of her small double chin as she glowered.

“I’m going to make you pay for this.”

And with that the runes of time around both women began to glow again.

Julie knew she could give herself another head start until she decided the best strategy was to hold a step back and see what Vivian’s next play would be.

In a blink the chubby and humiliated Vivian was gone.

And Julie’s smile spread as she closed her eyes and listened to the ticking of the watch in her hand.

Teaser: The Scales of Time Chapter 8

The Scales of Time, Chapter 8, is dropping tomorrow morning. We last left off with Julie traveling back to the past and sending Vivian down the path of yo-yo dieting. Now we get to see the results.

Want a teaser?

Enjoy.

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Vivian was chubby.

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I'm sorry, was that too teasey of a teaser? Here's a bit more.

----------------

Vivian was chubby. The formerly perfect woman has gained a significant amount of unflattering flab, pudge in all the wrong places. She was pudgy, tubby, borderline fat.

At the risk of tipping her hand quite a bit, Julie laughed out loud at the sight of her rival. She was overjoyed to see just how much Vivian’s formerly lithe, athletic frame had grown, expanding outward with soft jiggling flab the wanted so badly to droop downward. Julie knew it was only a start, but the fact that she knew she was the cause of Vivian going from a slim and sexy queen to looking so chubby and out of shape made her entire body tingle as a strong warmth grew between her legs. It was such a thrill to be in such control, and Julie understood immediately how Vivian had let her previous power go to her head. Just knowing that Vivian was one step closer to looking more like Julie, morbidly obese, than her original slim hottie body was enough to bring Julie to the edge.

She had to take a closer look at the rival’s exact changes. She needed to enjoy every moment of this.

-------------------------------------

This chapter came in at over 3,000 words and contains lots of: bodily description, fat talk, name calling, and the competition itself continues to heat up in hopefully surprising ways.

Also the mysterious blonde shows up again! What's everyone's favorite enigmatic tertiary up to? You'll have to read to find out.

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 14

I felt like I was a little light with my writing last week, so a through a little extra into this one. Here are four stories and over 4,000 words. "What If" reaches its penultimate chapter as I bring it to what I think is its inevitable conclusion next week with part 15.

I didn't do previews this week like I usually do, so here's what you'll be reading in this volume.

"Stuck Up Snob to Desperate Hog": A slim and sexy sorority bitch who looks down on others finds herself fattening up and sinking to their level.

"Playing Pretend": A previously slim woman is in denial about her weight gain.

"Yummy Yoga Instructor": A recently porked up yoga instructor struggles with her self image. (To those of you who wanted a yoga instructor in Exclusive Cuts volume 6, don't worry. You're still getting it, and that one will be much darker. For this one I wanted to go a little happier.)

"What If" Part 14: The numbers don't lie. For those of you who love numbers in your weight talk, this one is for you.

Enjoy.

“Stuck Up Snob to Desperate Hog”

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Nicole thought Darren was a fat disgusting pig, and when she was thin she would always reject and humiliate him. She loved making fun of Darren. She loved taunting him with her slim and sexy body and then making him feel inferior. Nicole knew that Darren was a fat loser, and she was sure to remind him of what a fat loser he was.

Of course, now that Nicole was a fat loser, Darren was her best dating option, and she was stuck with him.

Nicole used to be the hottest girl in high school. Then she was the hottest girl in college. She went from being the head cheerleader and prom queen at her school to being the president of her sorority. She had climbed to the top of the mountain and used her tremendous position to look down on others.

Along the way Darren seemed to follow her around like a fat sweaty puppy. He was the nerd she got to do her homework in high school. He was the loser who worked part time in the school dining hall in college. He was seemingly always around her periphery which made him a frequent target of her insults when she wasn’t also ordering around because it was so easy to get him to do stuff for her even though she clearly wasn’t interested in him. She loved dominating people thanks to her incredibly hot body and undeniable confidence and charisma, and Darren was no exception.

And then Nicole went on a tropical vacation where she either contracted some sort of disease or insulted a local who put a curse on her. The jury was still out. The point is that Nicole came back from that vacation in a hunger filled haze, and she went from being a prim and proper woman with an eye toward the glamorous to being a junk food addicted slob.

Nicole began to stuff her face with reckless abandon much to the horror and or chagrin of her friends. Many tried to help her break her addiction to fatty, salty, garbage quality food, but many others embraced Nicole’s changes and were eager to see her consume more and more in a delicious taste of schadenfreude. They reveled in Nicole’s downfall as her desire to consume consumed her.

Nicole was always the kind of person who was a picky eater. The one thing she liked to indulge in was an array of salads, but even then she never filled them with less healthy options like bacon or large amounts of cheese. Now? Forget salads! She was eating lots and lots of cheese alright, but it was stacked high on burgers and pizza. She was turning into a slob as she stuffed her face with whatever she was presented with. Beer turned her shredded abs into a jiggle beer gut. At every party, she appeared plumper. Nicole was porking out in front of everyone, and everyone loved it. Her arrogance made her blind, and her piggish, greedy nature soon turned her from sorority princess to a big fat pig.

She grew a big fat ass, and at first that got her even more attention, but as it grew and grew it quickly became too much ass too much to handle. Her blubbery butt had too massive jiggly mounds that frequently split her pants to reveal her overtaxed undies and her cellulite covered cheeks. Her thunder thighs with their saggy saddlebags were natural companions as they began to constantly rub together. Nicole’s confident strut was turned into a slow, awkward waddle, and her hoggish hips frequently knocked drinks off of tables.

As Nicole’s weight soared, people around her grew bolder with their taunts, and a favorite punishment for her party fouls was to make her oink while her belly fat was pinched and poked. People loved to watch Nicole’s face flush bright pink with embarrassment as she was brought low with humiliation time and time again. They liked to laugh and tell her how it made her look even more piggish.

That piggishness eventually cost her her presidency and her spot in her sorority. Her sisters could put up with her weight gain, but it was the reckless abandon with which she ate and the way she had become such a complete slob that gave the sorority such a poor look that it was decided that the hog needed the old heave ho out the door while her hips could still fit through it.

With the pounds still packing on and the rejections and humiliations piling up, Nicole turned to the only loyal friend she had left, food. She became an emotional overeater which is to say that she over-ate all of the time. She was constantly seen with a snack in her hands which often elicited plenty of catty comments that drove her to eat her snacks even faster and with more volume which meant her own volume was increasing as she continued to put on more weight at an even faster rate.

And after college, things got even worse for the hottie turned hog. Nicole’s fall from grace had shattered her confidence, and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty’s fat ass back together again. With her formerly inflated ego irreparably damaged because of the humiliation that came with her inflated size, Nicole found her once promising future slipping through her fat fingers. She couldn’t get a grip on any kind of good job, and she struggled to keep the menial ones she could find. She briefly got a job at Thick Burger, but her eating habits and poor work ethic ended up getting her fired. It was yet another bottom in a seemingly endless line of them.

Getting fired from Thick Burger didn’t stop her from going there. If anything it made her want to go there more to stuff her face with the food she found to be so incredibly irresistible and yet so incredibly fattening. This of course made her own bottom grow wider, fatter, more shelf-like. And what little savings she had were being swallowed up by the bills for the food she was stuffing her fat face with.

Now she’s such a fat hog, desperate for any kind of positive attention that she’s shacking up with Darren. She’s realized that that fat slob is the best she’s ever going to do now that she’s gone and ruined her figure. She went crawling back to him, practically throwing herself at him once he paid her any kind of mind.

He loves it, loves the attention, loves how far Nicole has fallen. He loves that the cheerleader who used to make fun of him is now the fat slut that absolutely worships him. He loves it when he makes her talk about how hot his fat, greasy body is. He loves feeling the weight of his big belly fat belly on her head as she goes down on him. She makes him feel like a king, and she is his pathetic pet piggy.

Nicole knows this. She’s reminded of it all the time. In fact, “Pet Piggy” is tattoo on her flabby butt cheeks along with a picture of Porky Pig. She has another tattoo on her flabby bicep of a fat greedy hog with its mouth wide open and slop spilling out. On the tops of her fat saggy breasts she’s been tattooed with the words “Oink. Oink,” and she wears a fake gold necklace that says “Hog” on it. Nicole frequently wears ill-fitting outfits with pig theming on it. She’ll wear anything Darren insists on her wearing. One of his favorite things for her to wear is a pair of pink track pants that have the word “Piggy” written across the back, and they look ready to burst any day now.

She’ll do anything Darren asks including going out and stuffing her face in public. She can often be seen at places like Thick Burger scarfing down junk food, absolutely stuffing her fat gut until she’s almost too full to move and yet finding room for more. Darren loves to put her out there in places where she will be seen by her old friends or by people she used to make fun of so that she is constantly humiliated over and over and over again for turning herself into a fat, sloppy hog who is destined to get fatter because she can’t stop stuffing herself.

Nicole is a broken woman, fat and flabby and so used to a life of humiliation that she has turned her degradation into a cause of her arousal. Lust at her own downfall is her fat body’s natural defense mechanism to deal with the ruin that she has brought upon herself. If she’s going to be a big fat piggish loser who suffers through daily humiliation as a kind of cosmic karmic revenge, she might as well get off on it.

Darren’s going have Nicole making videos next. There are plenty of people who will pay to see the princess turned pig pork up even more. The story of her going from hottie to hog, a babe with a tight ass to a blown up fatty with a blubber butt should pull in the big bucks.

Nicole’s humiliating future is bright.

She has all the makings of a real cash cow.

--------------------------------

“Playing Pretend”

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She likes to pretend that she hasn’t gained weight, that her stomach isn’t a fat sloshy mess, that her pants aren’t ripping because her ass has completely  ballooned. She’s completely stuck in denial about what she has become and what she is still becoming, a fat girl who is getting fatter.

She likes to pretend that she’s still the slim and sexy hottie that she’s used to being. That’s why she keeps insisting on wearing clothes that have stopped fitting her ages ago. She has convinced herself that they still fit fine and that she still looks amazing in them. Or, if they rip or the button pops off, she pretends that it’s because they are old or they’ve shrunken. She always gets annoyed at the pants. It’s never her problem. She can never get upset with herself. She’s slim and sexy and perfect. That’s the arrogance that has distorted her reality.

And that reality is a fat one.

She’s a plump little piggy now, a tubby ball of lard with big tits and an even bigger ass. Her massive mammaries up front rest atop what will soon be an undeniable mountain of a belly. And behind her are two heavy jiggly counterweights in blubbery butt cheeks covered in cellulite that wobble with every single lumbering step she takes. Those steps are slowed by the outrageous swaying motion of her terrifically thick thunder thighs which rub together hard enough to make starting a fire a not entirely outrageous concern. She certainly helps keep the baby powder industry in the black, and yet she still insists her playing pretend and acting like she’s just deliciously thicc and not a full-on cow.

She still has the nerve to make fun of fat people despite her own obvious figure issues. She still loves to look down on others to taunt them and tease them. Although her barbs have less of their desired effect now that it’s clear she’s full of hot air and belly fat, she insists on doubling down, deflecting from her own imperfections and insecurities by focusing on those of others. Never mind that she regularly calls people whom she is fatter than pigs, that’s all part of playing pretend.

It’s amazing how far her denial is able to stretch, somehow farther than her pants which is saying something, especially since even her hands have gotten fat. Her previously slim hands host to delicate piano fingers are now chubby, greedy, greasy mitts with thick sausage fingers stained by the junk food that she constantly binges on.

She likes to pretend she eats healthy food because she loves avocado. It’s a good fat! And she loves to lounge about feeding herself grapes like she’s a Rubenesque Roman empress. However, the  chocolate covered strawberries that she favors are still covered in chocolate, and avocados don’t mean much when you pair them with bacon and slap them on a greasy burger or on slabs of toast with goat cheese and fried eggs. And that’s not to say anything about the chips and cookies, and Cheetos. If it’s deep fried, if it’s loaded with sugar, and/ or if it is smother in cheese, it is a particular favorite of hers. She is a junk food junkie, constantly stuffing her fat face with anything greasy and fattening, or sweet and fattening, or insert food descriptor of your choice and fattening. If it’s fattening it’s been a part of fattening her up.

And that’s why pretend time is getting ready to come to an end.

Because soon just the right button is going to burst. Too many pants will have been split to deny how fat she is getting. She may even ride her denial all the way up to the point of her breaking a chair, but reality is going to come smacking her in the face soon. And when she does it’s going to be harsh.

Once the illusion is broken, all of the catty bitches who have been talking shit about her behind her back will pounce. And all the people she used to make fun of are going to line up to get their revenge, to pinch and prod and taunt her. She’s going to have to get used to the one being called piggy. She should start practicing her oink. It’s going to be hell for the vain vixen who will still be the center of attention but for all the wrong reasons. They’re going to be teasing and taunting her until she waddles off squealing “wee wee wee” all the way home.

Soon. It will all happen soon. Fatty is gonna learn the hard way that karma is a bitch.

Playtime’s over, piggy. Oink. Oink.

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“Yummy Yoga Instructor”

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She was the yummy yoga instructor, the one that made everyone jealous with her hot body as she led a bunch of people who were far less fit than her through a series of stretches, some more challenging than others. She was a role model to many and the object of desire for many more. She wasn’t mean about it. She did her best to never look down on or demean others, and she was a universally loved and respected yoga instructor because of her skill and her demeanor governed by patience, kindness, and positive energy.

But the thing is she also had a secret.

She is a foodie. Outside of class she loves to indulge herself in all sorts of decadent delights, and she’s secretly a real junkfood junkie, a closeted snack sneaker, a naughty little piglet. And all of those sneaky snacks have led to some not so sneaky pounds piling themselves onto her previously petite frame. That’s how she’s gotten where she is today.

She has porked up.

If she wasn’t in front of the class and leading it, a passerby would never think she was an instructor. They would think she was a chubby girl taking class to try and lose some stubborn pounds, some pesky pudge.

Her butt has gotten broad. It is soft and spongy, a squishy cushion for her to sit on, and it comically stretches her leggings. She’s quite self conscious about it whenever she has to do any poses that require her to demonstrate them with her chunky cheeks pointed toward her students. She can sense them chuckling behind her blubbery backside. Her ass used to be so tight and perfectly perky, and that’s part of why it’s so embarrassing to have it become this loose saggy mess, a set of jiggly cellulite covered cheeks. She’s wary about bending down because she knows it draws attention.

Her ass has always drawn attention, but not in this way. Sometimes she used to hate the stares because she felt like she was being objectified. Sometimes she played into them because it made her feel good about herself and brightened her mood. But now, anytime someone stares at her fat flabby ass, she worries that they’re judging her, questioning her ability as a yoga instructor. Who would want to work with a yoga instructor that can’t keep herself in shape, someone with a big booty and ballooned as hers as become. And it’s not just her bloated butt that’s her only problem area.

Her thighs have gotten thick, but her muscles haven’t gotten any stronger. If anything she finds herself struggling to hold some of the poses for as long as she used to. She’s still pretty flexible with her legs, but now when she flexes her flesh wobbles. Her thunder thighs are the real deal. She is cursed with spongy saddle bags, and her thighs are chubby things that jiggle as she moves. They are quivering limbs filled with fat that is threatening to rub together. She’s had to subtly adjust and widen her stances to keep her thighs from touching. It’s a sensation she loathes the idea of feeling, and yet she fears that the day will come where she won’t be able to escape it anymore, the day when her thighs will touch and refuse to be apart, the day she’ll stop walking and start waddling. The idea of it ties her stomach in knots.

Speaking of stomach, hers has gotten a noticeable bulge to it. She used to have a very slim and trim waist but no more. Her tiny middle has been replaced with a muffin top and a tubby pot belly. She used to regularly hold class in just yoga pants and a sports bra, but no more. She couldn’t bear the idea of exposing the flabby flesh of her sloppy spare tire to her class. Her little gut often gets in the way of some of the poses she’s doing, and her love handles love to strain the sides of the leotards she’s forced to squeeze herself into. When she moves her belly moves. It swings and jiggles and bounces and throws off her balance. It is the most annoying part of her workday and the thing she is consistently self conscious about. She’s heard numerous people whispering rumors about her being pregnant only to laugh at her pot belly once they realize that she’s really just let herself go and gotten chubby. She used to have pride in her slim abdomen, but now she’s just another pudgy porker with a paunch.

It’s not all bad news though. Her breasts have given her a bit of a confidence boost as the previously petite pair has grown considerably. However their perkiness has been lost and their size and their sagginess pose their own problems when she poses even in the best of sports bras.

The fortunate thing is that her yoga instruction business is booming. Despite all the pounds that she has packed on, her clientele base has grown. It is largely to do with the fact that even when she was thin she was always so friendly and helpful to all of her clients, even the larger ones. And even though she’s now bigger than some of those clients who have since lost weight, they still love her. Now she is poised to be, not just a piggy, but a beacon of body positivity. If her fat ass can do it, so can they!

And sure, she’s lost most of her snootier clients, and she still faces lots of rude comments and laughter, judgmental stares and sneers, and an extraordinary amount of self doubt that wasn’t there before the fat found its way onto her previously thin body, but things are looking up as she makes more money than ever.

And the increase in profit is important because her food bills keep consistently increasing too which means the end of her weight gain is nowhere in sight.

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“What If” (Part 14)

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What if she can’t stop growing?

Getting to three hundred pounds really was a breeze, and getting passed four hundred seemed to come and go even faster. It seemed like she just needed to look at food to put on weight, and between her feeder boyfriend and her wealth of online subscribers through a variety of sources, she was looking at a lot of food these days.

Her boyfriend was insatiable in every way, in the bedroom and in the kitchen and the two often met. Their bedroom play always involved huge amounts of food, sometimes almost full meals, and that was saying something especially when those almost full meals came so close behind actual full meals.

And meals were also mostly sent to her by her online feeders, so she had to eat all of those. It was free food plus money to stuff her face with it. Her entire career at this point revolved around the idea that she would be able to fill herself with whatever people presented her to eat, and she was expected to be good piggy and eat it all while recording herself and oinking as she did so. So she had no choice but to keep herself constantly eating beyond the measure of a pro-athlete with absolutely none of the workout that goes with it. The only form of exercise she got was from lifting food to her face or performing in the bedroom, but even that got less and less as she ended up being a much more passive performer. At her weight she just couldn’t do the things she used to do when she was three hundred pounds.

When she was a mere three hundred pounds she could still dance.

That was an embarrassing thought, to realize that she had blown herself up so much, gotten so fat, that she realized she was beginning to think of being three hundred pounds as her thin days.

She used to be one fifteen! She was a cheerleader!

And now she missed being a three hundred pound fatty because at least she was thin enough to dance.

She got one the scale again to check her weight and needed her feeder to read the number out loud for her because she couldn’t see it over the expanses that were her massive breasts and even bigger belly. She had wanted to get one of those scales that read the number out loud for you, but her feeder insisted on keeping this one. Her helplessness added to the arousal, and the scale also had a five hundred pound limit, so the idea was to keep it until she broke it which she had to admit with a shiver seemed inevitable. Then she would have to move on to something a bit more industrial.

Four hundred and thirty-six pounds.

That’s what the scale read. That’s what her feeder proudly announced as he needed both hands to shake her tremendous double belly.

She used to be one fifteen.

In order to even get back down to three hundred pounds, she would need to lose an entire her and it still wouldn’t be enough. Four hundred and thirty-six blubbery pounds meant if she went on a diet and lost half her current weight, she would still be almost double her starting weight at two hundred and eighteen pounds. To be a lithe almost two hundred pounds again! What an impossible number. She was far closer to quadrupling her starting weight. She did some more math in her head, managing her money had made her good at figures even if she wasn’t good at managing her figure.

To be quintuple - five times - her starting weight, she would need to be five hundred and seventy-five blubbery pounds. The difference between that weight and her current weight was only one hundred and thirty nine pounds. When she was one hundred and thirty nine pounds she was just starting to lose her grip on her popularity, people were only just starting to really take notice of her weight gain. The difference between her current body weight and double her starting weight of one hundred and fifteen pounds was two hundred and six pounds. She was FAR closer to quintupling her original weight than reaching double her starting weight.

And five hundred and seventy-five pounds was dangerously close to six hundred. She doubted that her feeder and her fans would let her quit there. Six hundred and ninety pounds would be six times her starting weight. Would that be enough?

How big was she going to get?

When would it end?

Scenes From a Casual Dining Restaurant Part 1

So this commission is a very different story than I usually do, and while I'm having a lot of fun with it, it's also taking way longer than I thought, hence why this is late. It's also going to end up being a good deal longer than I originally planned which is honestly the standard for when I take commissions.

Enjoy.

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Roly Oly’s wasn’t your typical Valentine’s Day hangout. It wasn’t a fancy Michelin star restaurant or even a place that specialized in stereotypically romantic cuisine like French or Italian. But what it was was a relaxed and comfortable restaurant that served great food. It was very fattening food, and its calorie content definitely played a role in its deliciousness.

Perhaps it was the decadence of the sinfully delicious and fattening treats that Roly Oly’s served up that made it such a popular place amongst couples looking to indulge themselves in a variety of ways.

Roly Oly’s had all the trappings of a full and friendly restaurant, plenty of tables and a singular long bar for those inclined to just come in for a couple of drinks. The atmosphere and the food made it an ideal place for first dates or casual meetups, and Roly’s had developed plenty of well fed regulars. The customer base was consistently growing in more ways then one.

And a large portion of Roly Oly’s success also had to do with the diverse employees that worked there, two of whom were Ophelia and Judith.

Ophelia and Judith had been best friends since middle school, a friendship that grew tighter in high school. They were roommates throughout college and were roommates even now just a few years later.

Ophelia was one of Roly Oly’s most promising chefs, straight out of culinary school and an eager and talented worker. Her love of food was evident, and that evidence was all over her body. Ophelia was a chubby girl to say the least with a doughy belly befitting a woman who loves to bake as much as she does. Sitting atop that plump pot belly were a pair of heavy breasts that would be befitting a classic Bavarian milkmaid. They were large breasts that took a lot of work to contain and stood out even beyond her jiggly middle. Ophelia’s thighs were also thick and often rubbed together, and she also had a thick and flabby ass. However, these things were dwarfed by her stomach and breasts as Ophelia was a rather apple shaped fatty. All of this was accompanied by Ophelia’s chubby moon-shaped face complete with a delicate double chin.

Judith was a bit of a flighty girl, not in the sense that she wasn’t intelligent, but in the sense that she was the kind of person who was perpetually stuck with an inability to decide what she wanted to do with her life. Even in college, Judith did a lot of surveying. She ended up graduating with a double major in political science and communications with minors in business, theatre, music, and philosophy along with a handful of various other credits. It had taken her two extra years to complete her degrees since she had changed majors so many times before realizing she had enough credits to finish up with two, and she finished college while Ophelia was in culinary school.

Judith had always been a slim girl for most of her life, the kind with a trim body that attracted a lot of attention, and Ophelia had always been her loyal fat friend, but in recent years Judith’s body had softened as her blasé attitude toward finding a field of work she felt most comfortable in led to a lot of sitting around being bored and eating. As such, her perky ass was no more and had begun to chunk up considerably along with her thick thighs that had noticeable saddlebags. She had a slight tummy and her breasts had grown and softened over the years, but not by much. While Ophelia was an apple shape, Judith was decidedly pear.

Working at Roly Oly’s was Ophelia’s idea. She was excited because automatically she was being given a lot of responsibility in the kitchen and it promised to be a great place where she could grow. Judith was here because she enjoyed working with Ophelia and being a waitress was a good way to help pay rent while keeping her schedule flexible enough to try new things.

Together they were trying the pork cheek noodle that Ophelia had cooked up for a crew meal before dinner service began.

“This is delicious, O.”

“Thanks. It’s the gochujang that really makes it. I don’t think they’re gonna put it on the menu anytime soon, but I wanted to make something special for Valentine’s Day.”

“You think pork cheek noodle is romantic?”

“I think good food is romantic.”

Ophelia as she slurped up her noodles.

“Watch we’re you’re going, fat ass!”

Judith rolled her eyes at the sound of the voice but still leaned to look behind Ophelia and see what happened.

“Oh look, the hostess with the mostess is here.”

Corinne was a smoke show of a woman, an aspiring model and actress with the figure for the job, and she had just knocked into Samir an obese line chef.

“Seriously, piggy. Keep your fat sweaty hands away from me. Got it, Fatso?”

Samir just nodded and went about his work well used to Corinne’s abuse.

Corinne was a gorgeous woman with a stereotypically hot body. She was tall and with an hourglass figure. Although her curves were plentiful, they were also tight. Corinne was a fit girl who strutted around the restaurant like she owned the place even though she was just the hostess. The hostess job was temporary until her acting and modeling career took off. She knew that which is why she walked around with her nose held up especially when it came to being around Roly Oly’s plumper regulars or the rounder members of the restaurant staff.

“Hey, Cor. I made crew meal. Pork cheek noodle.”

Corinne grabbed a bowl, slurped up some noodles and sucked some pieces of pork and slammed the table like she had just done a rail of cocaine.

“Fuck, that’s good.”

If it was one thing Corinne couldn’t resist, it was Ophelia’s cooking. She had spent years dieting, training herself to physical perfection, and one bite of Ophelia’s first crew meal had hooked her, and when Olivia was cooking crew meal it was always sure to be her favorite.

Ophelia nodded with approval, sending her double chin bobbing.

“Glad you like it. I baked a chocolate pudding pie for dessert when we close, and I’m trying out a new pound cake recipe, so I’ve got slices wrapped up for everybody to take home.”

Corinne, in an unusually unladylike display, licked the sauce off the edge of her bowl.

“Damn, Ophelia. That’s why you’re so damn fat.”

“So you don’t want it?”

“Of course I want it! I have a fantastic metabolism and can eat whatever I want. Be jealous, bitches.”

And with a flip of her hair, Corinne turned around and strutted off to start her hostess shift.

“She’s a bitch,” said Judith with an eye roll.

“The hostess with the mostess is not exactly the nicest.”

“She’s a thin arrogant bitch.”

“I’d go with curvy.”

“I hope she gets fat,” snarked Judith.

“You’re mean,” snickered Olivia.

“Oh come one. It would be funny.”

Olivia looked down at her hands a chuckled slightly and then quickly leaned forward getting real close to Judith as if she had to whisper her a very important secret.

“I’ll make sure she goes home with two slices of pound cake.”

Judith practically fell backward off her chair with laughter before rocking forward again and slapping Ophelia on the arm.

“Now you’re being mean. I love it.”

She looked up at the clocked on the kitchen wall and then quickly finished up her dish.

“Time for my shift. Make sure you save me a big piece of chocolate pudding pie for later.”

“Not as big as the one I’m saving for Corinne.”

Judith laughed as she tightened her apron and then made her way through the kitchen doors and into the dining room proper. As she looked over at Roly Oly’s lone seldom used but mostly for decoration piano, Judith felt an urge to tickle the ivories, but instead she walked over to the bar where her friend John was working tonight.

“Hey, John. If a customer asks me for a wine recommendation with their steak, do I suggest white, red, or rosé?”

“Honey, if I’m not mixing it, I don’t give a shit.”

John was a lithe man with movie star good looks, and what he was currently mixing was a concoction that was bright and light orange which he slid toward Judith.

“Try.”

Judith didn’t need to be told twice and eagerly took a sip.

“Ooooo, that’s good. What’s the secret?”

“Chartreuse.”

“And am I tasting…”

“Passion fruit syrup.”

“We have passion fruit syrup?”

“We do when I’m mixing, bitch.”

John leans forward and places his hands on top of one of Judith’s.

“Now that tastes pretty good, right? You would even say delicious?”

Judith nodded as she took another sip of her drink.

“And passion fruit is perfectly appropriate for Valentine’s Day, in fact wonderfully so?”

More nods. More drinking.

“And you know what I’m going to be making instead?”

John slapped the table just as Judith put her drink down and nearly knocked it over.

“Five million strawberry martinis- with vodka! And that is why I hate my life and need to get out of here.”

Judith held John’s hands and nodded in solidarity.

“And don’t forget the cosmos.”

John groaned and ripped his hands as the door opened again and he caught sight of the next two customers walking in.

“Oh great, Brenda and Eddie are here again,” he said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“They come here often?”

“Yes. They’re on and off, and they’re super toxic so I hate them.”

“Hey. It’s Valentine’s Day. Maybe tonight will be better.”

“No it won’t, and I already know what they’re going to want to drink.”

John goes about prepping for the inevitable.

“She’s going to have a cosmo because she’s a basic bitch. He’s going to have a beer because he’s a neanderthal. And I’m going to have a cigarette because of the endless misery that is my existence.”

“You can’t smoke in here.”

“And the parade of travesties continues!”

Brenda and Eddie were an annoyingly pretty couple who had been together, more or less, for most of their lives. Meeting in high school, Brenda was the head cheerleader and Eddie was the star quarterback. Together they were King and the Queen of the prom, and of course that was exactly where they peaked.

Eddie O’Leary went on to play quarterback in college until an injury ended his career, and now he works as a mechanic down and one weekends he tends bar with his brother in a bar down on Sullivan Street.

Brenda was a stereotypically pretty blonde whose hobbies primarily revolved making Eddie jealous and getting other people to buy her drinks. She was a buxom babe who excelled at the art of seduction when she wasn’t allowing herself to be tied to Eddie who was a bad habit she just couldn’t seem to kick. She was too lazy to attend her classes in college and ended up dropping out hoping to simply attach herself to Eddie’s rising football star, so now taunting Eddie about his own failures was her primary outlet for when she needed to feel better about herself.

The two hardbodies were seated by Corinne who took the time to admire their trim good looking figures, appreciating a kind of pretty people kinship. They were placed in Judith’s section where Eddie immediately started to snap his fingers.

“Ey yo, can get some fuckin’ bread over here?”

Judith heard Eddie’s snapping and new it was already going to be a long night.

John slid her a beer and a cosmopolitan.

“Here. Take this to them.”

“What kind of beer is that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just bring it to them. Tell them it’s on the house, and maybe you’ve got a hope of actually getting a tip from them tonight.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know.”

Corinne leaned on the bar.

“Hey, John,” she said with a little giggle and batting of her eyes that went entirely ignored by the stonefaced bartender. Corinne tilted her head toward Judith.

“Hey, slowpoke. Didn’t you hear them? They need bread.”

“Yeah- yeah. I’ll get to it as soon as I get them these.”

“You know. Your laziness is why you’re starting to get doughy.”

“Shut up, Corinne!”

Luckily, by the time Judith was able to get Brenda and Eddie their bread, her favorite regulars had shown up. Jake and Alexa were tremendous people, in more ways than one. They were exactly the kind of people that Corinne hated in that they were extremely fat.

Jake was a jovial man with the big Santa style jelly belly to prove it. He was an overly round man with a spare tire that hung over his waistband like a heavy bowling ball of a gut. Everything was thick about him from his thighs and butt up to his barrel chest adorned by two large man boobs.

Alexa had an even larger chest than her husband. She was a buxom woman with a dough ball of a belly as well. She was a rotund woman with two blubbery butt cheeks and the thunder thighs to match. As she entered the restaurant, she was finishing off a large candy bar. Her large double belly was still noticeably rumbling for more.

When Corinne sat them in Judith’s section she muttered “Pigs” under her breath as she walked away.

Judith however was absolutely delighted to see them.

“Hey, guys!”

“Hey, Judy,” beamed Alexa.

“We’re already ready to order our apps,” said Jake with his chubby hands rubbing his big fat belly.

“Of course. What can I get you?”

“We’re gonna start with some mozzarella sticks and onion rings. And I thought we’d try some baked clams, what do you think, honey?”

“I thought we’d try some oysters for Valentine’s Day,” purred Alexa as she also rubbed Jake’s big belly.

“Why not both?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Great. We’ll have an order of baked clams and an order of oysters… for Valentine’s Day.”

Judith loved serving Jake and Alexa because they always ordered a lot of food and tipped really well, but this current public display of affection and innuendo was getting to be a bit much.

“Great. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“John’s gonna hate me, but just a Bud Light for me,” laughed John, causing his jelly belly to shake.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make up for it. Just tell John to make me whatever he’s feeling like tonight. I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”

Judith took their orders, and John’s sad puppy eyes lit up at the news that he would get to use his passion fruit syrup.

Between managing the largeness of Jake and Alexa’s order and dealing with the annoyance of Brenda and Eddie, Judith hadn’t even realized that Corinne had put another woman in her section, a slim girl, pretty, someone who looked like a conservative teacher type. She was dressed in a blouse with a sleeveless sweater on top of it and wore her long hair pinned back out of her face. When Judith asked her about a drink, all she asked for was water.

By the time Judith got that water, a new woman had blown through the doors. She was dressed in leather with a pink crop top (ill timed for the weather) that revealed a bright diamond stud in her exposed navel. Her black hair was styled with a combed-over mohawk with a severe undercut. She strutted over to the much mousier woman without even waiting for Corinne to so much as point the way.

Once Judith got to the table, the woman in leather immediately ordered a Jack Daniels neat with an order of loaded cheese fries for the table.

Judith looked between the two women who couldn’t appear to be more different and had to admit it.

She was intrigued.

Suggest the Next Stories: Arrogant Athletes Get Fat

Arrogant athletes has won the poll for Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts Volume 6.

So the next post which will only be available here will be a collection of short stories that will all have to do with arrogant athletes getting fat.

And what will those stories be? You tell me. It's time for you, my patrons to suggest story ideas and/or titles and see which ones inspire me to write them. This poll was my most popular poll yet, so I'm hoping for a lot of feedback here.

I anticipate Fat Trimmings Volume 6 coming out during the second week of March.

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 13

Here is the latest volume of my continuing fat flash fiction series.

Enjoy.

“Big Sister”

Cindy was a snobby sorority sister, the classic stereotype. She was a hard bodied hottie with a trim waist and pert bubble butt, toned legs and perky breasts. She was the kind of prim and proper princess who had come to college used to being the prettiest and most popular woman she knew. She had been head cheerleader, homecoming queen, and prom queen. She joined her sorority and wasted no time in angling her way into power.

She was also one of those southern California sorority girls who loved to flaunt her tight bikini body all year long. One of her favorite things to do was get people drooling as she pulled her lithe body out of the pool. Cindy loved to show off her perky, perfect butt in the tiniest of bikinis. She was a tanned and toned goddess, the envy and desire of all.

Well, some of Cindy’s littles began to find Cindy’s vanity and arrogance to be incredibly irritating, and they grew jealous of her ability to get the attention of anyone she wanted, so they decided to put an end to Cindy’s reign of dominance by putting an end to Cindy’s slim and sexy body.

And their plan started with feeding Cindy’s ego. There were lots of compliments, and an endless array of them. And there were plenty of remarks about how jealous they were of Cindy’s looks, her slim figure, and her ability to eat whatever she wanted without gaining a pound. They pushed Cindy’s popularity and kept her as the center point of as many parties as possible. And once the feeding of her ego went as far as they could take it, that’s when they took their plan to the next stage, feeding her stomach.

The parties became the perfect place to fill Cindy with heavy beer and cocktails, and once she was good and liquored up, it was easier to ply her with food. And when she was inevitably hungover the next day? Lots more food to make her feel better. Then, because people were just nice and Cindy was just so deserving of them, she was given gifts all the time, baskets and baskets of junk food to snack on, and because she was convinced that she could stuff her face as much as she wanted without gaining weight, stuffing her face was exactly what she did.

And all that eating eventually had the desired effect, not one that Cindy would have wanted of course, but it was exactly what her rivals wanted. Soon, Cindy was getting fat. The party pounds were piling on, and all that junk food was leading to some serious junk in Cindy’s trunk.

The first thing to cave on Cindy was her abs which became to cave outward into a soft and spongy pot belly. Her doughy gut jiggled with each step, and it would have made buttoning her jeans difficult if her sorority sisters didn’t keep strategically swapping them out for secretly larger sizes. And any that they didn’t get in time, well the wash had obviously shrunk them, worn out the bottoms enough to make the rip.

That was the next thing that grew big and fat, Cindy’s bottom. Her perky butt ballooned into a blubbery mess, covered in cellulite. It looked ridiculous in the string bikinis that Cindy still insisted on parading around in. Her chunky rear wobbled up and down and attracted equal parts stares and snickers. But everyone was careful not to insult Cindy to her face lest she catch wise to what was going on. They wanted to keep her fattening as much of a secret as possible until there would be nothing Cindy could do anymore.

So Cindy kept plumping up. Her clothes kept getting tighter and replaced. And people kept noticing but not saying anything. It was a dangerous cycle with devastating effects on Cindy’s waistline. Her beer belly became a full blown beer gut, a turgid mass of jiggly fat filled constantly with alcohol and snacks. It was a permanent bloated food baby that poured over the waistbands of all of her pants and spilled out from under all of her shirts. It made every t-shirt an unflattering crop top, and while her breasts also got bigger, her belly outpaced them by far and drew any attention away from her bigger but softer and saggier breasts.

Her belly would spill onto her fat lap when she sat down. This lap was so fat because of the thick, wobbling thunder thighs she grew from all of her partying, grazing, and gorging. Her thighs grew fat, and when she sat they spread out like big lumps of melting butter and pressed together. They were starting to press together even when she was standing, and everyone knew it was only a matter of time before Cindy would have to start waddling around.

Her chunky caboose followed suit, becoming even bigger lumps of fat that wobbled about with a mind of their own. Her flabby ass cheeks could barely be contained in anything that she wore, let alone her precious bikinis.

And it was one of those bikinis that led to Cindy’s ultimate downfall.

At a pool party, drunk Cindy went on one of her tirades about several of the girls that were there, and, silently but unanimously, everyone at that party that had been a part of fattening up Cindy decided that this was the time to bring the fat girl back down to reality. The comments flew! There was oinking! Mooing! Cindy the Cow became a very popular nickname. And there was so much pinching, and prodding, and poking.

Cindy couldn’t escape it. She was surrounded by humiliation. Every taunt she had ever thrown, every gesture, every cruel judgmental act she had ever engaged in, it was all paid back to her in that moment. And, as someone shoved a delicious piece of cake in Cindy’s mouth while oinking at her, Cindy stepped just the right way to get her bikini bottoms to burst and elicited another loud round of laughter that last for far longer than Cindy would have liked. She was detained from getting her fat ass inside until everyone who wanted to got a good look at what her formerly perfectly pert butt had turned into, a bloated, blubbery, cellulite covered mess.

Cindy didn’t wear bikinis after that. She didn’t wear much in the way of fashionable things. Once her sisters stopped swapping out her clothes, Cindy settled into a life of sweatpants. See, Cindy’s weight kept climbing as she became an emotional overeater. She became something of her sorority’s pet pig, a party trick people enjoyed pulling out the make fun of. As she became more of a recluse, her tan skin became pale, and she turned into a total fat loser.

That’s how she is nowadays, a big fat loser. She works a menial office job. Her once promising future is gone, and she’s just another stereotypical fat secretary, the butt of plenty of office humor because of her big flabby butt. And that’s all she’ll ever be, a big fat fatty forever.

A lot of the women in her office, women Cindy would have felt superior to and looked down upon in the past don’t even call her by her name. They just call her Fatso.

Cindy still looks at old pictures of herself, and she finds it hard to believe she was ever so smoking hot. As she cradles her pale, fat, gut in her hands, she misses the tan abs that used to be there, but she knows that the fat girl she is now is a result of her own mistakes, her greed, her laziness, and mostly her arrogance. She has been crushed by the weight of her own vanity and is stuck with her obese frame, Fatso forevermore.

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“Hunk to Chunk”

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Look at him. He used to be so hot, a real ladies man you know? He used to be a playboy, a player, a cheat. Well, now his options are far more limited. He used to have his pick of women, now it’s just his pick of wing sauces.

Look at that fat face, that stupid, doughy, double chinned face. He used to have a model quality face. His whole body used to be model quality. He looked like he was chiseled out of granite. Now he looks like he’s been molded out of Playdough. He was an arrogant jock, a hardbodied bully. And now he’s just a doughy fat boy, a chunky, chubby, lumpy, fatty, a fat boy through and through.

Look at fat boy eat. He really knows how to stuff his face. Back when he was an athlete he used to eat plenty, but back then his arrogant ass would work those calories off, but now that ass is just sitting down and getting fatter by the day. It’s good for nothing but splitting pants. Fat boy here has definitely ruined more than a few jeans from his chunky butt bursting out of them.

He really has gone from hunky to chunky, the guy everyone admired to the fat loser everyone makes fun of. It’s the perfect karma for a guy who used to love to flaunt his body and taunt others, even to the point of physically bullying them. He used to make so many people’s lives a living hell, and now what goes around comes around and makes him round, very very round. He is a real porker, an absolute pig who can’t stop stuffing his fat face. The fatter he gets, the more food he needs. His weight gain and the rejection he faces because of it makes him sad, and his sadness makes him eat, and it’s a vicious cycle that has turned him from an arrogant playboy to a fat pathetic loser.

His mighty muscles have gotten puny, replaced by layers and layers of fat. He used to be tight and trim. Now he is fat and flabby, a saggy collection of folds and rolls, a well-fed hog of a man, a full blown oinker. He is known by many nicknames: Piggy, Porker, Oinker, Fatso, Tubby, Fatty, Pumba, Fat Boy. And he’s more than earned them all.

He used to have abs, cheese grating abs, abs that he loved to flaunt in front of everyone. They were the kind of abs that he would arrogantly shoehorn into any conversation he could. Well, now he’s got a flabby gut, a big beer belly, a pot belly so large that it also likes to interject itself into conversations, either through loud rumbling to signal his piggish hunger or peeking out from under his shirts so that everybody can see the his stretch mark covered spare tire. His abs were his favorite feature. Now his gut is his greatest source of embarrassment.

But it’s not his only source of embarrassment. He used to have tight pectoral muscles, a well sculpted chest, and now look at him. He’s got big bitch tits, jiggly moobs. Thos big saggy moobies swell out and fill his shirts embarrassingly. He looks like he might need to consider a bra for his man boobs. They’re soft and saggy and sad just like the rest of him.

His thighs used to be athletic, but now he’s bloated with heavy tree trunk legs and a blubber butt with two plump cheeks that people love to tease him about. He is an embarrassingly flabby fatty.

His reign as king is over. He’s a fat loser from now on, and everyone else gets to revel in his downfall.

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“What If” Part 13

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What if she hits 300 pounds?

That’s quite the number, quite the LARGE number, an impossibly large number that she had never considered before. Before she went on her gaining journey, long before she accepted that that’s what she was doing, she was just one hundred and ten pounds, and hitting three hundred pounds would mean that she would be almost two hundred pounds heavier than when she was a slim and sexy hottie.

And if she can reach three hundred… what’s another ten pounds? Ten more pounds would make her a full two hundred pounds heavier. And then another ten pounds on top of that? She would be three hundred and twenty pounds, and if she reached three hundred and twenty pounds, she would officially be twice the woman that she used to be.

She wondered what that would look like, being so hugely obese that there would be enough of her to make two of her.

She would have a huge spare tire, a rumbling ever hungry gut. It would be so big that it wouldn’t even be a single rolling ball of fat. It would be a big, soft, jiggling double belly, a segmented fatty mush, a huge amount of turgid fat hanging over her pants and working its way down toward her knees. And she could see herself eventually growing a big fat sagging belly that does reach down to her knees, a sloshing mass of gelatinous fat. She used to have a sexy six pack, abs that made people jealous, and she’s been growing this belly fatter and fatter, and it’s a truly bulbous blubbery thing.

Speaking of blubbery things. Her ass cheeks have already grown from being tight and perky to being a full on blubber butt. They would be massive mounds of quivering flesh, pants straining- and bursting- ball of blubber. She can easily imagine her flabby butt cheeks spilling over chairs, breaking chairs. She can see herself eventually growing so large that her incredibly fat ass takes up an entire sofa.

At 300 pounds, her thighs would be touching down almost to her knees. She would have quivering thunder thighs, full of soft wobbling flesh that rolls over her knees. She would never be able to go anywhere without waddling about. She used to have a strut like a model. She used to be able to run marathons and do back handsprings as a cheerleader. Now she’s a fat waddling piggy who gets winded walking from the couch to the kitchen, and it’s only going to get worse.

She knows that she’s so far past the point of no return. She’s going to keep stuffing her face endlessly and outgrowing all of her clothes. Luckily, her streaming work is doing well enough, and she gets plenty of donations from her fans to pay for her immense food budget and her new clothes, and that’s why she knows that she’s doomed to get fatter. They’re enabling the inevitable.

Three hundred pounds?

It was a number that seemed to be impossible for so long. And now it seems like it’s just a new beginning. And it thrills her. It drives her to eat more, to see how much she can cram into her face. She wants to stuff herself more and more so she can grow more and more, faster and faster.

Four hundred pounds?

Five hundred?

How big will she get?

How big can she get?

Fattest Tuesday Recap and A Look Ahead

Hello Everyone!

Fattest Tuesday Week is in the books, and with the celebration of the busiest week of my patreon thus far, I wanted to take the time to recap all of what has happened so you get the clearest sense possible of just what you've gotten for the five dollars a month that you're spending supporting me.

This week I dropped 9 new pieces. This included:

Two volumes of "Fat Trimmings" including ten different flash fiction stories, and a volume of "Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts" which included three stories that will only ever be available on this patreon.

This week, I continued two ongoing series and started a new one. There was the release of a new chapter of "Nightmare Pigs" and THREE Chapters of "The Scales of Time". To give added context, that means that "The Scales of Time" on my patreon is now a full three chapters ahead of anywhere else I post my stories, including Deviant Art and the Changing Mirror. That's right patreon supporters are now on pace to have at least six weeks worth of "The Scales of Time" content before anyone else.

And since I launched "Bad Influence" here, a story that is currently not available outside of my patreon, that means this patreon has three active long term stories, and I'm not planning on releasing "Bad Influence" anywhere else for at least two months.

This week I also dropped another commissioned one shot, "Best of Intentions, Worst of Results" that won't be released anywhere else for at least a month. 

What does all this mean? It means that on my patreon, during Fattest Tuesday Week, I released over 36,000 words. At 5 dollars a month, that means patrons paid just about one hundreth of a penny per word. But wait there's more!

When you include last week, when I posted the extra large volume ten of "Fat Trimmings" and the content from the exclusive cut of "Eloise's Interlude" that means my patreon currently has over 41,000 words worth of weight gain content that is not available anywhere else. And that's not counting the four other volumes of "Exclusive Cuts".

Obviously, that's a lot. And I'd like to take the time to thank my commissioners for spending far more than one hundredth of a penny to make  lot of this stuff happen.

So why should you keep supporting my patreon?

Because there's still so much more to come! 

This week I'll be releasing a new volume of "Fat Trimmings" on our weekly Fat Tuesday. And I'll also be releasing a new commissioned piece called "Scenes from a Casual Dining Restaurant". This story will follow a couple through the years on a series of Valentine's dates along with the staff at the restaurant they visit over the years. It's a 4,000 word commission which means, knowing me, it will likely be over that. And with "Fat Trimmings" also releasing, I can guarantee at least 6,000 words of content coming to my patreon next week.

"Fat Trimmings" will of course continue as a steady feature every week releasing on Fat Tuesday. But what about my ongoing stories?

The next chapter of the "The Scales of Time" will release on March 1st. Readers will finally get to see what Vivian is looking like after Julie's influence on the timeline has fully taken hold. The next chapter of "Nightmare Pigs" will drop on March 8th, and then my plan will be to alternate between these stories on a weekly basis.

But wait, there's more!

"Bad Influence" Chapter 2 will be releasing during the last week of March. And what else is coming in March? I'll be releasing "Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts" Volume 6 only to my patreon. It's looking like those stories will all feature the downfall of arrogant athletes, but the poll is still live, and patrons can still vote to influence the results.

There might still be a few surprise story drops along the way, so expect a big March and beyond!

Thank you all for your continued support.

Enjoy.

BS

Fattest Tuesday Commission Flash Sale!

Commission Flash Sale! Save some money! Get the exact story you want!

In celebration of Fattest Tuesday week, I am announcing a flash sale for commission. From now until Tuesday, you can save 20% on commissions.

This sale is for 1,000 word, 2,000 word, and 3,000 word commissions. Normally these would cost 30, 60, and 90 dollars but for a limited time you can get a 1,000 word commission for $24, a 2,000 word commission for 48, or a 3,000 word commission for 72.

But wait! There's more!

My Patreon patrons normally get an additional 350 on any commission, but during this flash sale I will increase that bonus to 500 words. That means patrons can get a 1,500 word commission for $24, a 2,500 word commission for 48, or a 3,500 word commission for 72. That's a lot of savings!

If you enjoyed "Best of Intentions, Worst of Results", that was a result of my last flash sale. Take advantage of the savings!

If you'd like to commission a piece, you can DM here or email me at bswriterstories@gmail.com

"Best of Intentions, Worst Of Results"

And so we bring Fattest Tuesday Week to a close with this brand new commissioned one shot. Reminder: Patreon patrons get an additional 350 words added to their commission, and even better deals on larger commissions. Also, fun fact: I pretty much always go over agreed upon word count as I did with this piece. Anyway...

Enjoy.

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Hollie was a hot bitch.

She was, beyond doubt, an incredible smoke show with a tall hourglass figure that made people fall head over heels for her. She was a svelte yet curvy goddess with a trim waist, generous breasts, and a heart-shaped ass that had people drooling over it. Beneath her power suits were powerful arms paired with long athletic legs and a set of six pack abs. She was undeniably hot.

Hollie was also undeniably a bitch. She ruled the office with an iron fist, barking orders at her subordinates and making known to everyone how inferior they were to her. She especially loved making fun of the office fat girls, especially the secretaries that she deemed were pigs, hogs really, or cows. She would tauntingly oink and moo at them, but her confidence and power shook those poor fat women to their core and made them afraid to say anything to anyone else which of course kept Hollie in power, and allowed her to remain confident in maintaining her bullying ways.

Lara was the exact opposite, not in looks, but in demeanor. In the look department, Lara was conventionally attractive in her own right even if she didn’t have the exact supermodel athlete body as Hollie did, but she was a trim woman with an abundance of style, and if she was in the room with pretty much anyone other than Hollie, she was probably the most attractive person in that room.

And she was also a far nicer person, kind to everyone she met and always a shoulder for others to cry on. And carrying that constant burden led Lara to one conclusion.

Hollie had to be stopped.

And Lara was going to do it.

She didn’t know how until she found an old dusty tome in a used book shop. It was the kind of book that she knew deep down she shouldn’t have found, and yet somehow it had fallen through the cracks and right into her hands. It was a book of powerful spells and rituals, and, even though on its face it might have sounded like bunk, as she read through the book Lara could feel that it was all real, and she knew exactly the ritual she wanted to use. So she went about her plan, made all of the preparations, and sprung her trap on Hollie one night when the two stayed late at the office.

Hollie looked up from her desk as Lara entered book in hand.

“Lara, what the hell are you doing here, you stupid cow?”

“Bringing your rain of terror to and end.”

“God, you really are a crazy idiot. No wonder you do so nicely palling around with those fat pig secretaries we have around here. I’m sure you’ll be joining them. I see the way you snack while they’re around. Careful darling, stick with those losers and you’ll find the pounds piling on. You’re kind of cute now, but you’ve got the making of being a real porker.”

Lara just took the words that Hollie threw at her and smiled.

“I think it’s time that you learn a bit about packing on the pounds.”

Hollie just shook her head and got out of her desk to usher Lara out of the room.

“Alright, time for you to go, loser. I don’t have time to play around with a soon to be fatty like you.”

“Oh, we’ll see who the soon to be fatty is.”

And then Lara said a few magic words and Hollie found herself stuck in her tracks and a bubbling filled her stomach. It was a bubbling that soon became a chill that spread through her body which began to tingle shortly thereafter.

Hollie felt the distinct feeling of her clothes suddenly feeling looser. Her blouse fell limp as her breasts deflated, the top of her power suit felt bagging on her diminished shoulders, and the waistband of her pencil skirt went slack as her hips lost their curves. It was like she was a deflating balloon going from a curvy, statuesque goddess to a mousy loser in no time flat. With one hand, Hollie inspected her flat chest. She was now definitively a member of the itty bitty titty committee as she used to say to the less endowed girls in her former sorority. With her other hand, she held up her loose skirt in an attempt to maintain some semblance of dignity as she soon found herself looking up at Lara who now towered over her and filled out her clothes with truly dynamic curves and even bigger confidence.

“What’s happening?”

“What’s the matter, Hollie? Feeling small?” chortled Lara as she patted Hollie on the head.

“My- my clothes.”

“Pretty loose, huh? Don’t worry. That’ll change in a few moments.”

Hollie went to reach up and claw Lara in the eyes when she stopped suddenly and stared at her hand.

It was getting fatter.

As Hollie’s perfectly manicured nails dried up, becoming unpainted and chipped- cut shorter as if she had been a lifetime nail chewer, her fingers grew larger, not longer- but thicker. Her delicate piano fingers became fat little sausages, and her hands- which Hollie had always been told she could use to model with- blew up into chubby mitts. It was like she had been stung by a pair of bees, but that sting kept spreading. She felt it as the fat kept filling her, robbing her of her perfect sexy figure and slowly turning her into her worst nightmare, the exact kind of woman she had always made fun of.

Hollie could only watch helplessly, staring at her hands held up in the air as the fat flowed up her wrist and began to inflate her arms. The thickening started with her wrists and worked its way up her arm toward the shoulder. For a moment, Hollie’s arms looked like they were blowing up like balloons, but as the surge moved forward her flesh began to wobble, and it was clear that she was not filling with air but with thick, soft, spongy fat. Hollie’s muscular biceps inflated and then deflated turning from something she was proud to show off in all manner of sleeveless outfits to flabby, saggy bingo wings, as the fat began to fill up her shoulders and slide down her back, Hollie’s arms kept growing becoming swollen, juicy ham hocks. She mourned the loss of her fit arms and cringed at the flabby mess they had become, which of cause made her fat flbby arms quiver all the more. They looked comically out of proportion from the rest of her still slim and sexy body, but that would not last long.

Her narrow shoulder grew thick with fat, fat which spread down her back becoming thick juicy rolls that wrapped around into love handles that her thick slabs of drooping flab, bacon slabs of fat. They began to tear small seams in Hollie’s blouse. Hollie was already feeling like a bloated pig of a woman, and she could tell by the glee on Lara’s face that her transformation into a obese parody of her previously slim, sexy and powerful self was far from done.

The fat from the love handles lurched forward, and bubbled into a blubbery belly. What started out as six pack abs became a generous jiggling pot belly in no time and get swelling, pressing against the buttons of Hollie’s blouse, becoming a surging spare tire that could not be stopped. All that blubber was not meant to be contained and the buttons knew that. They began to ping off one by one, each new button elicited another peal of laughter from Lara. With each button popping, Hollie could feel her dignity slipping further and further away as her gut kept expanding outward and Hollie the Hottie was left growing fatter and fatter and feeling rather hoggish.

Once the buttons were gone and the shirt flew open, it revealed a saggy and stretch marked double belly that left Hollie gasping for air just standing there, trying desperately to grab a hold of the sloshing mass of lard. She looked quite comical with her still model quality face panicked in fear as she wobbled about gripping her the thick lower roll of her double belly and shook it in disbelief. Hollie screamed as the fat was all too real. She closed her eyes and opened them again hoping this was all a dream, but her big fat spongy gut remained. She pinched it hard, still hoping to wake up, but she was left yelping in pain and feeling worse from the concrete proof of her growing fatness. She could fill the fat of her stomach as it continued to fill her hands and push her fingers apart. She still looked absurd with such a thin lower body, but Lara knew that was about to start changing.

The fat worked its way downward, widened her hips, and began to blow up her ass. Her pert butt quickly became a bulky behind and kept inflating with fat. Each cheek swelled with fat and dimpled with cellulite. They quickly went from chunky cheeks to bulbous bags of fat. As they filled with lard, all signs of any kind of definition. If her ass was described as a peach before it was now an overripe and mushy one. Her jumbo derriere was destined to be the kind of wide load that knocked papers off of desks and got stuck in chairs- at least the ones it didn’t break. The growth didn’t seem to stop. If Hollie hadn’t dropped her loose skirt in surprise once her body started to pack on the pounds, it would have long exploded off of her because of her swelling hips and ass. Instead, her blossoming booty had to settle for eating her underwear, tearing it and turning a sensible but sexy pair of panties into a thong swallowed up by flab.

Hollie certainly didn’t feel sexy as she fondled her fat butt and felt the flab with her sausage fingers. She felt like an absolute hog that wasn’t done growing.

That flab continued to billow downward and outward. It filled her thighs and swelled them up. Her lean legs, athletic thighs, toned for years from cheerleading, running, and competitive swimming- hours of exercise now wasted as the tan ran out and her pasty thighs plumped up growing to the size of her former waist and beyond. They soon became tremendous trembling thunder thighs with fat that rolled over her knees and pressed together widening her stance in the comical one of a circus fat lady. She would be lucky to be waddling from here on out. They were thick tree trunks of flesh covered in cellulite instead of bark.

Hollie pleaded for Lara to stop this. She begged to be left alone. Apologized profusely. But Lara merely laughed in her face and watched as her fattening revenge on Hollie continued.

Her legs continued to expand, and the fat continued to move. It swelled her calves and ankles together into cankles and then swelled up her feet to match her chubby hands with tubby sausage toes to mirror her thick sausage fingers.

Once the fat reached her feet, Hollie felt like it couldn’t possibly go any further, but she was wrong. It radiated back upward, and every part of her, already large, grew larger, thicker, fatter. She swelled outward in all directions. The last button on her shirt blew off as her breasts ballooned and surged forward. They were momentarily contained by her bra, but her growing breasts and thickening back fat saw to that and popped the bra off of her as well allowing her pendulous breasts to slap onto the top half of her double belly and send her whole body jiggling in waves of fat.

Finally, her face gave in to the fat. Her high cheek bones were coated in fat and dropped down into jiggly jowls. Her hair grew frizzy and uncontrollable, and her face grew fat and dull and dumpy complete with a fat piggish nose and a thick double chin.

Wearing nothing but the tattered remains of what had been her previously professional work attire, all Hollie could do was sob.

“How does it feel, Hollie the Hog? Feels shitty. Doesn’t it? Don’t worry. I came prepared with your new uniform.”

Lara brought Hollie a dirty gray sweatsuit fresh from the Salvation Army. It smelt horrible and looked absolutely huge.

And yet Hollie the Hog knew that those sweats were going to be tight on her. And sure enough in them she looked like an overstuffed couch potato with a huge muffin top as her big fat billow spilled out from under her shirt and over her greasy sweatpants.

Suddenly, Hollie’s head felt heavy, foggy.

“What you do?”

“Oh, that’s your intelligence leaving you, you dumb cow. I think you’ll do quite well from now on wallowing as an assistant for those secretaries you called pigs. You’ll find you’re much bigger than any of them. Playtime is over, Hollie the Hog. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.

Lara’s laugh haunted Hollie’s foggy mind as she stood there in an office that she knew was now Lara’s with nothing she could do but stand there dumbly with her big huge flabby belly in her fat grubby hands. Hollie had officially been turned into the fattest pig in the office, her own personal worst nightmare.

Hollie soon regrettably settled into her role as the office hog. She thought that surely somebody would remember how things used to be, but it quickly became clear that whatever spell it was that Lara had cast left people unable to realize that something was out of place.

It seemed to some people that Hollie had been demoted because of her general laziness and ineptitude. A subset of those, mostly people Hollie had stepped over in the past for promotions, expressed their excitement that Hollie could no longer coast on her looks and had been exposed for the fraud they always knew she was.

Still others seemed to believe that Hollie had always been a fatty. There were some of those who welcomed her with open arms as if she had always been a compatriot. (This was something Hollie hated with a burning passion, the mere idea that she would have associated with people as fat as… well as fat as she had become filled her with outward rage and additional self-loathing.) Others looked down at her like she had always been an office troll, horribly beneath them, which Hollie- deeply entrenched in her self-loathing- certainly believed to be an undeniable truth at this point.

And then there was yet another group of people who seemed like they never gave the matter much thought at all. If Hollie confronted them about things, they simply stared at her as if their eyes were totally blue screening before blinking and moving on with the conversation or walking away as if nothing had been said. It was like they tried to come up with an explanation for things and then just decided that they didn’t care. Hollie found this to be the strangest thing of all.

Hollie couldn’t explain any of it, partly because this - or any - kind of spellcraft was far beyond her knowledge, but also because her own intelligence had been significantly diminished. The truth is, Hollie hadn’t relied solely on her looks to get her where she was. (Though she certainly wasn’t afraid to leverage them as needed.) She was very good at her job, but now it seemed even simple tasks needed to be repeated to her several times, and her mistakes were plentiful. She had become, as many in the office would call her, a dumb cow.

All of this stress and her already altered appetite meant that Hollie was sent spiraling down the path of emotional overeating which is why, after two weeks of the spell taking effect, she was still putting on a significant amount of weight. She was binge eating her feeling constantly, and it was showing. And every time people laughed and pointed out that Hollie the Hog was eating her feelings once again, that just made her do it more. This was a problem for a number of reasons not the least of which was that, with her girthy form growing, her ability to easily get in and out of her car, now a beat up old Camry, was shrinking.

Hollie the Hog was having a nightmare of a time.

Meanwhile, Lara was absolutely over the moon. She had taken over Hollie’s position seamlessly and ushered in a new era of peace and prosperity in the office. With her at the helm, (and not accounting for Hollie the Hog) stress was down and productivity was up.

Lara especially loved getting her own licks in on Hollie:

“Hey, Hoggie, did you get that report I asked for?”

“Hey, Hoggie, did you make those copies? Remember not to try to do that trick where you photocopy your lard ass. Your wide load would break the machine.”

“Hey, Hoggie, waddle on off to fetch me another cup of coffee, you fat pig!”

“I sure do love having my own little office piglet at my beck and call. Isn’t it great, Hoggie?”

Things were going perfectly.

And then she showed up.

She was a stern looking woman with cold eyes and a narrow face. Her petite body was dressed in a dull gray pantsuit which was further covered by a long tan trench coat. She wore her hair in a low ponytail and covered by a trilby. She spoke fast.

“You Lara?”

“Y-yes? And you are?”

“We’ve got a big problem.”

“We certainly do. I’m going to call security.”

“Don’t bother ma'am. They’ve already been neutralized.”

“Neu- who are you?”

“Name’s Kylie. But that’s not important. What’s important is what you’ve done.”

“What I’ve don-”

At that exact dramatic moment, Hollie came waddling in to the office, her wide hips brushing against the door and getting her momentarily stuck. The timing was almost like magic.

“Lara, I brought those file you wan-”

“Just on time,” posed Kylie.

Hollie was too dumb to piece together any bit of what was going on and just stared at this strange woman with her mouth slack jawed and her double chin fully inflated as a result.

“My, you’re a wide whopper of a woman, aren’t you?” laughed Kylie.

“Hey!” cried Hollie. She was used to being the butt of jokes amongst people in the office, but she wasn’t in the mood to be taking it from a stranger right now as well.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you sorted out in a few moments, but first.”

Kylie turned her attention back toward Lara.

“I’ll be needing the book back now, ma’am.”

“I-umm- the book? What-”

“Don’t play dumb with me ma’am. The book that gave you access to the kinds of powers you have no business having access too. I’m already two weeks on this case and would like to hurry up and close it now. If you please?”

Kylie held out a hand.

Lara was sweating.

“The book- b-but I… I just wanted to… it’s just that-”

“Quit stalling, ma’am. You know what kind of power that book has, the kind of power that people like me wield on the regular. So you know just how badly this could go for you.”

Lara’s neck was absolutely on fire as Kylie remained stoic and unmoving and a widening smile grew across Hollie’s fat, smug face. Clearly defeated, and not eager to face extreme punishment, Lara fished the book out of her desk drawer and handed it over.

“For the record, I didn’t steal it. I bought it fair and square. And things around here have been so much better since I made her like this. It was the right thing to do.”

“Right and wrong isn’t my call, ma’am. What I know are the facts. You got your hands on a book you were never supposed to have. You cast a spell you should never have been able to cast. And your reckless inexperience caused the magic to splinter and spread in unpredictable directions. Different people remember things differently. That’s chaos that we need to now contain. Quite frankly, you’re lucky that my coven caught this case. Plenty of other groups would just straight up turn you into a literal pig right now. I’m simply gonna get your victim here all reversed, and then give you a basic karmically ironic punishment, and we’ll call this a day.”

With a snap of her fingers and a wave of her hands, silence filled the room as the book opened exactly to the page she wanted. There were a few muttered words and several quick but specific hand gestures, and then Lara felt a cold heat radiate throughout her body.

Lara looked over at Hollie who began to lift into the air and then spin, glowing like it was the ending of Beauty and the fucking Beast. With an obnoxious and somewhat anticlimactic burst of light, Hollie was returned to her previously hot form, glamorous power suit and all and drifted back down until her Prada heels once again touched the ground.

“No. No. No. It’s not f-”

Lara’s words caught in her windpipe, and as Lara threw her hands around her throat in the universal sign for choking, she could feel her throat thickening beneath her grasp, and her new double chin reached down to brush against her chubbifying hands. She quickly threw those now chubby hands up to her face, and found there was already no longer any trace of her sharp features. She was met with a mask of fat, soft pliable jowls that bent at her touch but would not tear away even as she pulled at the flesh.

She turned to see her reflection in a mirror on her desk and let out a blood curdling scream that the spell quickly transformed into a high pitched squeal. Her facial features were explosively fat, her cheeks redundantly chubby, her double chin thick and droopy and threatening to bubble up into a third one. Even her forehead seemed to take on more fat making her look like a dumb Neathanthal. Her previously perfectly kept hair fell limp and greasy in the front with great pockets of frizz toward the back. Her face was an unkempt and unmitigated disaster with her nose blossoming, bulging outward and tilting up into the simulacrum of a snout. Her fat jowly cheeks made her eyes look small and beady and her entire facial appearance was exceptionally piggish.

Lara’s whole word was spinning, and as she grasped at her temples, she could see out of the corner of her eyes the clear growth of her arm as the muscle that was there melted into fat, and her arms grew thick, wobbly bingo wings that jiggled like jello as she stumbled about her office- or rather Hollie’s office as her slowly diminishing intellect was still able to surmise. Lara was feeling very hot, but she didn’t remember taking her coat off, and yet here she was clad in nothing but a tank top which made her flabby arms so clearly visible. Somehow she managed to fall backward but land in her office chair.

Almost as soon as she hit the chair, Lara could feel herself being lifted up on a cushion of fat as her ass cheeks inflated like airbags in a car accident. They filled with fat and pushed Lara upward as they also spread out would. The fat pooled up in the seat and further spread out radiating through Lara’s legs.

Her legs plumped up instantly, becoming thick thunder thighs perfect for waddling if Lara were able to manage getting up, but all of the sudden and ongoing weight was keeping Lara firmly glued to the chair. Lara could only watch in horror as her thighs tore through her pants, splitting the seams like overstuffed sausages splitting their casing and revealing a plentiful amount of plush, cellulite covered flesh that jiggled with the consistency of raw bread dough. The spreading of her fat shot down her legs, filled her calves and ankles until they became united as cankles and then plumped up her feet until the fat things burst open her heels. As that happened, all Lara could do was wiggle her sausage toes and sob quietly.

But the transformation did not end there, Lara felt the heat melt down from her forehead and come up from her toes until the two sources met in the middle. And that’s when her flat toned middle began to expand. Her abs shivered and softened, with her entire middle deflating for a moment before beginning to fill up expanding outward rapidly like a balloon filled with fat. Her some stretched into one big sphere, a spare tire saturated with spongy fat and sprawled out across her fat lap. Her paunch went from pot belly to double belly right quick and brought with it a thick pair of love handles, slabs of fat that pressed themselves against and under the arms of the chair.

As the weight gain began to slow down, Lara began to be able to move again and went to get up only to realize that her bulky body had become so wide, so filled with fat, that that flab had pinned her to the arms of the chair and left her stuck where she was. She tried to wiggle her way out, but thanks to the width of her fat flabby ass and the thickness of her big gut and thick love handles, she was well and truely powerless to free herself. The lack of muscle definition in her tremendous thunder thighs did not help the matter at all. She had become a weak and helpless fatty, a pathetic pig. And her humiliation was compounded by Hollie’s laughter.

“HAHAHA! Look at Lard Ass Lara! Too fat to get out of the chair! A stuck sow!”

Lara was left fretting and feeling hopeless about her whole situation wondering what she was going to be able to do.

Luckily, Lara did not have to wait long for a solution to her problem.

Unluckily, that solution was more weight. Lara’s breasts finally began to balloon along with the rest of the body, but they were greatly outpaced by the rest of her obese form. Her fat muffin top grew bigger and more blubbery until it could not be contained anymore and the arms of the chair cracked. This was followed shortly thereafter by her titanic ass spilling over the sides of the chair just before the massive weight of her entire body caused the chair itself to buckle and collapse, sending Lara tumbling like a tremendous bowling ball. It was a minor miracle that she was able to eventually get herself up again, clinging to the desk and dangerously sweaty and out of breath.

Now clad only in the same kind  ill-fitting sweatsuit that Hollie had been wearing just moments before, Lara looked over and realized with a renewed sense of dread that she was now far fatter than Hollie ever was.

Kylie clapped the book shut and regarded each woman with a curt nod.

“There we go. Everything back as it should be. Everyone now remembering Lara as a lowly secretary with a glandular problem that caused her to gain an extreme amount of weight in an amount of time that they cannot specifically remember. No harm. No foul.”

Kylie took a brief moment to examine her handiwork seeing as Lara was decidedly one of the larger transformations that she had carried out in her career. She was now a massively obese woman who would be just as at home as a circus fat lady as she was an office worker, maybe even more so.

“That will teach you, ma’am. I’m sure you won’t be going around and messing with power that you don’t have any right to, will you?”

“She won’t be going most places with all that bulk!” laughed Hollie.

“Look at you, Lard Ass Lara! You’re the perfect dumb, fat cow secretary. You're my own big fat idiot to boss around. I’m gonna run your piggy ass into the ground, not that your waddling butt can do much running. You big fat sack of crap! You disgusting, flabby land whale! You pathetic fatso!”

Kylie cocked an eyebrow at the cocky office overlord.

“Oh. I see then. You really are just a miserable bitch.”

She turned to Lara.

“I see why you did it, ma’am. But all the same, rules are rules. Shouldn’t have gone just practicing magic on your own. You’ve got to wander into a proper magic user by fate or chance just like everyone else… well, come to think of it… I guess you have now. So I suppose I can do you one solid.”

Kylie shot a glare in Hollie’s direction, opened the book without looking at it, and whispered a few more magic words.

Hollie felt a sudden bubbling in her stomach as her abs melted once more. Her paunch expanded, surging forward as a full, spongy pot belly that pressed against the buttons of her blouse. Hollie’s hands flew to her rear as it swelled against her skirt. She could feel her athletic thighs loosening and thickening with fat. She wasn’t a full fledged fatty just yet, but she had become quite chubby.

“What have you done, you b-” Hollie’s words were cut off by the loud rumbling of her stomach.

“I’d be careful if you don’t want me to speed things up and make everything worse.”

Hollie zipped her fat lips and paid attention for a change as Kylie continued.

“Enjoy what’s left of your thinnish body while you can. You’ll soon be wishing you were only this chubby. Exercise will be impossible. Your appetite is unruly and insatiable. People around here are going to really enjoy watching you balloon until you’re the fattest one in the office, not Lara… not that she’s going to have much luck losing a lot of weight.”

Hollie shuddered at the idea of growing as massively obese as Lard Ass Lara, but she knew deep down that her fate as Hollie the Hog was once again sealed.

“As for me, I’m going to go ahead and call this case closed and leave you both to your very fat future.”

And she did just that.

The Scales of Time: Chapter 7

Oh. You thought we were gonna do Fattest Tuesday Week and I wasn't gonna give you the full first part of the challenge? Get. You. Some!

Enjoy.

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Julie felt herself getting fatter, filling, growing, stretching. She is suddenly immense and then suddenly very small. She alternates between feeling like an overtaxed rubberband pulled to the edge of breaking and a pressed out penny flattened so thin that as she flipped through time and space her razor edge is invisible.

Then she felt herself rounding out again, inflating like a balloon back to her normal hugely obese proportions. She landed on the ground with a thud and her fat body shivered. Then she looked at her chubby hands and realized that she could see through her sausage fingers. As she moved them at just the right angles they disappeared completely. She was transparent like what she imagined a ghost that was looking at itself would be.

And as she looked around, she realized she was exactly where she wanted to be, in the campus dining hall on her first day of college. And just like a ghost moving through the world she seemed to float, and all of her normally lumbering moves are made with ease. Even though her thunder thighs are still rubbing together and she’s still technically waddling, she moves with effortless speed and a strange amount of grace.

As she looked around it didn’t take long at all to find exactly what she was looking for.

She saw herself, a much thinner version of herself. Of course, much thinner meant that she was still over 200 pounds, but that was half her current weight. Her past self was at the pasta bar section staring down at six different types of pasta dishes and decided on at least two to eat, leaning toward fettuccine alfredo and pasta primavera. And right on cue, Vivian came walking up with a still slim Eloise at her side.

“Oink oink piggy. Picking out what you’re pigging out on? Why don’t you just slap it all on their. Pigs like you love slop like that.”

Past Julie tried to ignore Vivian and scooped up some of the fettuccine alfredo and a pair of garlic breadsticks, but the act of ignoring the two bullies just seemed to make them even more incensed.

“Hey, Fat Ass, we’re talking to you.” Eloise punctuated her comment by flicking a spoonful of marinara sauce at the back of Julie’s head. The clump of marinara blended in strangely well with Julie’s frizzy red hair.

So Eloise followed up with a spoon full of the alfredo sauce next.

“Nice one,” laughed Vivian.

“I think the Pollock look really improves her hair style, don’t you think so, Fatso?”

Julie finally slammed her plate down and turned to face her tormentors.

“What the hell’s your problem?”

Vivian sneered and set her own platter aside to step right up to Julie while flicking her raven hair as a calculated display of intimidation.

“You’re my problem, Piggy.”

She reached forward and grabbed the lower part of Julie’s belly causing the fat girl’s chubby face to turn as red as her hair.

“You and this pudgy paunch you’re packing is an embarrassment to our coven. You should be ashamed to have this kind of flab flopping around.”

Vivian pinched Julie’s belly fat hard enough to make her squeal.

“There you go. Squeal for me, piggy.”

The older Julie teared up as she watched her past self suffer, and swore to herself right there.

“I’m going to make you squeal, Vivian. You mark my words. You’re going to be my piggy.”

As past Julie tried to get away, Eloise blocked her exit, and a hard spank by Vivian made turn around again. This allowed Eloise to scoop her fat ass cheeks with both hands and wobbled them both. Vivian was breathless from laughter. Julie hurriedly turned around again to avoid Eloise, and Vivian managed to pull herself together long enough to slam both of her hands into Julie’s flabby butt cheeks.

“Goddamn, Lard Ass. Those are some big blubbery cheeks you’ve got there. You’re a real wide load, Porker.”

“I mean- damn! That felt like a workout just lifting those for a second,” laughed Eloise.

“Certainly more of a workout than this cow has ever gotten.”

Vivian picked up a big scoop of spaghetti and meatballs, and Julie winced as she got ready for Vivian to dump it all over her head, but inside with a wet slapping sound, Vivian slopped the spaghetti onto Julie’s plate, right on top of the fettuccine alfredo. Then she did the same with the pasta primavera, and then the penne alla vodka. She took the platter and shoved it right into Julie’s doughy belly.

“There you go, fat girl. Go stuff your piggy face. You know you want to.”

Julie was just happy to have the opportunity to get away from Vivian and Eloise, and her rumbling stomach unfortunately revealed that she was incredibly hungry anyway. She hung her head in shame, took her platter, and waddled off to find a seat in a far off corner of the dining hall.

Julie followed her past self to the back corner of the dining hall and watched as her past self took a few big, sad spoonfuls of her slop. Splashes of sauce spilled on her shirt and dribbled down her chins.

Julie leaned over her past self and held the pocket watch tightly. She waved her other hand by her past self’s head and focused as hard as she could on a simple suggestion charm, something easier enough that she believed she could pull it off, especially as she felt the comforting glow of the pocket watch in her hand.

“Put it down. You don’t need to put up with her. Just go get a veggie wrap at the sub shop. Go back to your room and study. Always study. Don’t let her taunting turn you to food. Use it as motivation to study and get better.”

It took a few moments, and a few more large helpings of her pasta slop, but eventually it was like a light went off in past Julie’s head as the message finally sank in. She got up, dumped her tray in the garbage, an act noticed by her fat Aunt Cass who was watching from some distance and unnoticed by past Julie but not present Julie, and then waddled off to find herself a slightly healthier food option and to crack open her books.

Meanwhile, Julie looked at her fat Aunt Cass, and it was like feeling haunted by a ghost.

But she had to stay focused on the task at hand. She had done her task and changed an aspect of her past, presumably for the better, and she could feel herself being pulled by the magic of the challenge back toward the present.

She felt the watch again.

“The two time zones.”

Julie opened the watch and focused on it, grounding herself to this time for as long as she could, and she looked at the second smaller watch face. She watched as it began to glow separate from the rest of the watch. She focused on that and felt herself sliding, not through time but through space, through the dining hall until she was back in front of Vivian.

“Now you get yours, bitch.”

She had to think carefully. Vivian would likely be more difficult to charm. Her will was strong even if she was six years younger. Julie knew she couldn’t go whole hog all at once with Vivian. No. The first suggestion would have to be smaller, less satisfying but like putting dominos into place, she would have to stack things one by one in just the right way to make Vivian’s fall complete. Patience. And one thought at a time.

“You should celebrate,” Julie whispered into Vivian’s ear.

“You’ve earned it. You’re already destined to be the top witch in your class. You’re slim and sexy, and everyone loves you. You’re going to have this school, this coven, eating out of your hands. So treat yourself.”

Vivian wasn’t going to grab dessert. It was an act of discipline to avoid such things, but she felt compelled to pick up a cookie. She was right. She had earned this cookie, damn it. This had been a great first day of college, and she was going to enjoy herself with a nice chocolate chip cookie and perhaps… even a cupcake.

Vivian began to eat the chocolate chip cookie, still warm and gooey and delicious, right off its tray while plucking a cupcake off a tray and adding it to her own plate.

“That’s right,” Julie whispered.

“You can eat what you want. You’ve got a great metabolism, unlike that hog Julie. You could eat like her and never gain a pound, so you get to enjoy yourself as much as you want. This is college. You should cut loose and have fun!”

Vivian picked up a second cupcake as she polished off the cookie. This elicited a judgmental stare from Eloise that did not go unnoticed by Vivian. Luckily, Julie was prepared to turn this moment to her advantage as well as she felt the ticking of the clock grow faster.

“Fuck this bitch. She thinks she can shame you? You!? You’re the sexiest, most powerful witch in your class. You’re perfect. Eloise is just jealous because just looking at these cupcakes puts her at risk of gaining the freshman fifteen. Don’t let her throw you off your game. You’re not some fat, pathetic loser like Julie. You’re in control. You're the head bitch in charge. In fact. Show her who’s boss.”

Vivian picked up a third cupcake and shoved half of it in her mouth with one big bite.

Eloise cowered a bit, shocked by this sudden and unexpected display of dominance- and certainly an unusual way to show it.

Julie chuckled to herself.

“That’s right. You’re going to have fun in college. And nobody is going to tell you what to do, or what to enjoy. Those cupcakes are delicious, and you’re not going to limit yourself. You’re slim and sexy Vivian Blake. You have no limits!”

With a content smile on her face, and a spring in her step that made her pert butt bounce, Vivian went off to enjoy the rest of her dessert, grabbing a second cookie for good measure.

Julie felt a sinister cackle bubble up inside her as she watched her rival tainting herself with the sinfully delicious treat. She knew that the first domino had been set as she felt herself being pulled back through time toward the present.

As she flew through time though, she sharpened her focus on a rush of new memories and glimpses beyond even what she would have known. She held tight to the watch as she enjoyed the effects of her influence on Vivian’s life.

The most obvious thing that Julie noticed was that Vivian’s well trimmed waist began to soften. A lot of the extra time she spent at the gym to maintain her sexy six pack of abdominal muscles was instead converted to time spent partying and treating herself to an array of snacks. It became easy for those abs to disappear as all that extra sugar got sapped up into fat cells. All of those extra desserts led to a doughy little pot belly, too much celebrating made for a party paunch. It was a soft jiggly thing, nowhere near as large as Julie’s gargantuan gut of course. You likely wouldn’t even call it chubby, but it was a crack in her perfect armor and a nice preview of the pudge to come, a start to further softness.

And that softness did come. Vivian’s entire body became a touch softer. Eating too many muffins made for a generous muffin top. Those empty calories began to pile up. It’s like they say, a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips, and Vivian’s hips grew softer and wider as she indulged more and more over time. Her pert ass cheeks developed a little more bounce to them as they grew softer, flabbier.

Julie loved the vision she had of people secretly snickering about Vivian’s chunky cheeks behind her bloated back. People would sneer at her exposed muffin top. On more than one occasion, Eloise even got bold enough to poke it. Vivian was still a confident force of personality, but her iron fist grasp over her social clique was broken and her control was no longer absolute.

Julie savored the simple pleasures of watching Vivian struggling to button her pants, slamming herself on the bed and jiggling furiously as she fought her belly to close the flap of her favorite jeans. She got to watch Vivian publicly split a seam in the back of her pants, and wished she could have frozen in that moment to really set Vivian on the path of emotional overeating.

“I want to watch you eat your feelings, fat girl.”

But even though she couldn’t quite turn Vivian into a total binge eater, she was pleased to see that her little intervention had turned the previously perfect Vivian into a complete yo-you dieter with her weight fluctuating between slim with a hint of pudge to full blown chubby chick. She wasn’t quite a pig, but she was a borderline piglet.

As she got closer and closer to the present the visions became faster and faster until they passed in a blink in the eye, far faster than Julie could keep track of them.

And then Julie was back in the present as if little if any time had passed, but she felt different, and when she looked down she realized she was different. She was thinner! Now, thinner for Julie was still tremendously obese, but losing a hundred pounds is still losing a hundred pounds even if that meant that Julie was still three hundred pounds.

Having a smaller double belly and much less achy joints was a joy for Julie. This joy was made all the greater by the realization that she felt more powerful, more confident. It had worked. It had all worked, and now Julie was stronger for it.

And she was eager to look over and see what six years of yo-yo dieting had done to Vivian’s figure.

The Scales of Time: Chapter 6

In this chapter, all the pieces finally begin to come together. Some questions are answered. Others are asked. The challenge between Julie and Vivian finally begins. And that blonde girl shows up again!

Enjoy.

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Julie felt the fatness come to claim her once again.

It started with a tremor in her body, like a hum that resonated through her bones and then sent a tingle through her skin. She looked down at her tight body, and that hard won goddess like curves that she possessed, her trim waist, her athletic legs.

Then she looked up at the fat pig that Vivian had become, a mass of fleshy fat rolls, a great gelatinous glutton filled with fat. She was an obese orb of flab, a lard filled land whale. She was the fattest woman that Julie had ever seen.

Until she wasn’t.

Suddenly, all that fat seemed to melt right off of Vivian as she turned back into her usual slim and sexy self. Even the stance she took shifted as her body became trimmed and toned again and her bitchy confidence returned. Vivian marveled at her own body for only a moment before the familiarity of her sexiness took over and she gave the whole event a simple shrug recognizing her fat transformation as a mere blip in her perfect life.

“Now this is more like it,” she said with a calm nod before looking over at Julie with a cold sneer.

It was when she looked back at Julie that her eyes lit up again with hunger.

“You on the other hand.”

And that’s when Julie really felt the fat come to claim her.

It started with her trembling hands. Julie watched as each dainty digit swelled growing back into fat, clumsy little sausages. The fat filled her palms, puffing up her hands into doughy mitts and then spreading and widening her wrists. She had never given much thought to the beauty that her slender wrists had held. She never had the time. Now they were bloated with fat again, swelling like they had been stung by particularly determined bees, and the fat that filled them kept going, filling up her entire arms. Her arms swelled with fat just like her fingers. Her forearms and biceps became like great big sausage links on either side of her elbows. Her biceps in particular lost their previous muscularity and gained flabby bingo wings and new stretch marks on the underside of her arms near her armpits. The flab shook vehemently and dripped down over her elbows as her arms dropped so that her hands could explore the rest of her changing body.

The fat rolled through her arms and filled her shoulders than worked it’s way down her trim waist. Julie’s waistline exploded immediately turning into a tubby muffin top that kept puffing outward as the pounds of pudge kept piling on. What were abs just moments ago blew up becoming a paunch, then a pot belly, then a spherical spare tire before splitting into a full double belly. Her globular gut seemed to have a mind of its own as it kept filling with fat and sloshing about. Julie’s turgid tummy, fat beyond tubby, was a sack of fat that sagged downward, burying the front of her panties and drooling down toward her knees. Gravity was extra cruel to her gluttonous gut. The only thing that lifted up at all was her thickening thighs.

Her slim legs expanded in all directions. Her trim thighs grew saddlebags and reached out to touch each other. As they swelled into tremendous thunder thighs grown thick but wobbly with cellulite covered lard, they grew so fantastically round that the front of her flabby thighs pushed up the lowest hanging part of her sloppy, saggy, segmented, double belly. Her thighs grew saggy as well with fat that rolled over her knees. The fat kept flowing downward, filling her calves and ankles and turning them to the stereotypical cankles before flowing further down and filling her fat feet until they matched her chubby hands, complete with sausage toes.

Julie’s ass began to balloon outward, forming a heavy, sagging shelf of fat that acted as the perfect counterweight to her fat sack of a saggy double belly. Her bloated rear end, the largest of lard asses once again regained its place of prominence as her portly posterior protruded outward and sagged down onto the backs of her thunder thighs. Each cheek was immense, quivering bags of fat, flabby blobs of dough covered in cellulite and each moving, jiggling, independently of the other. Her fat baboon butt was the definition of a dumpy dumper, a sad shapeless mass that could only be described as massive. There was no tone whatsoever, only jello-like jiggly flab. She was the definition of a wide load with a titanic sized ass that would make it a struggle to get through doorways. The dimensions of her body would make getting through a door difficult no matter which way she turned. The largess of her hips would fill most frames, and turning sideways would mean having to battle with both her butt and her gut.

And up top things continued to swell as well.

Julie’s breasts became massive mammaries, plush and covered in angry red stretch marks, her pendulous breasts hung like two sagging sandbags at the sides of Julie’s monstrous double belly. Her huge breasts paired with her gargantuan stomach and titanic ass made Julie look like an ancient fertility statue come to life as her fat jutted out in all directions. Her massive, swinging breasts gave Julie’s back, now covered in juicy fat rolls of its own, a tremendous amount of pain.

Eventually, the fat pumped its way up to Julie’s face. It thickened her neck and then filled her cheeks which became redundantly chubby like an overstuffed chipmunk. The fat of her face made her eyes look dull and beady. Her nose widened and gave her a piggish look as her chin softened and became a second and then a third. She was now a jowly girl with a face unrecognizable with fat.

Just when Julie thought she was done, it seemed like the weight just kept piling on, forming folds upon folds of fat as every piece of her continued to balloon. She grew heavier and heavier becoming far fatter than anyone she had ever seen, eclipsing what one would even dare to consider a circus fat lady level of fat. She grew larger than she ever imagined possible.

The tremendous weight of all Julie’s fat caused her knees to buckle. She wobbled back and forth for a long moment before collapsing onto her bloated, well padded rear. The fat cushioned her fall, and she felt no pain, but her entire body, every fold and roll bounced and quivered. She shook like a massive plate of jello as she tumbled onto her back. Then she tried to get herself up, but all she could do was rock a bit like a fat useless turtle stuck on her back. She tried to kick her legs, but her thunder thighs were so massive and heavy on their own that it made lifting them to kick pretty much impossible. She could barely lift her fat flabby arms. She was stuck, fat and useless as Vivian came to stand over her.

“Silly pig. Did you really think your fat, pathetic ass could beat me?”

Vivian reached down and palmed Julie’s massive belly. Her hand became enveloped in fat flesh as she shook the flabby mess.

“You’re a weak, fat ass loser. And now you’re the helpless, useless, pathetic fat blob that you were always meant to be. This is how it was always going to go, and to think otherwise, lard ass, was pure foolishness on your part. There is no hope for you, only fat.”

Julie began to scream and sob until those screams and sobs became the sound of her alarm clock. She jolted out of her nightmare in a cold sweat and would have bolted upright if her naturally large gut didn’t make that impossible. At best she managed what looked like half an accidental sit up before her belly pinned her back to the bed. With a tremendous amount of effort, she eventually managed to roll her massive body over and reach for her phone to turn off her alarm. Next to the phone was the golden pocket watch ticking away as if counting down to her upcoming challenge.

She clutched the watch in her fat fist and closed her eyes wishing more than anything that she could go back to sleep, sleep through this day and the next and never have to worry about her challenge. She could let Vivian take her spot and just her life humbly with what little power she had and not risk the punishment that would await her inevitable failure.

But sleep was impossible. Her anxiety saw to that, so Julie lumbered out of bed and decided to do the next best thing.

She went to get breakfast.

At the dining hall, Julie observed Eloise’s obese form as the former skinny bitch now had her bloated body behind the counter serving up sausage gravy and biscuits to the masses. Elosie’s shoulders were slumped and her head hung in perpetual shame which really made her doughy double chin stand out. Her greasy hair hung limp but was largely held back by the hairnet she was forced to wear.

People who knew Eloise would snicker as she served them. Occasionally, as she slopped sausage gravy onto people’s plates, some of it would haphazardly splash back and land on the apron that encompassed Eloise’s expansive belly. As Julie approached she could see the remnants of gravy at the corners of Eloise’s mouth and on her chin along with the crumbs that covered the top of her shirt and signaled her own early morning messy pig out session.

Eloise refused to look up and make eye contact as she served Julie her food, but her entire fat body trembled at Julie’s presence.

Julie thought about saying something, commenting on what a greedy pig Eloise looked like, maybe calling her a slob or commenting about how her fat body was quivering. She thought about calling Eloise pathetic, but then she thought better of it. The truth was that Eloise was pathetic, but that patheticness just made Julie feel sad. And with the knowledge that after this day Julie could very well find herself in an even worse position, she decided it was best not to rub Eloise’s fat face in her predicament yet again. Instead, Julie walked away after delivering Eloise the small mercy of silence.

As Julie waddled away without saying anything, Eloise let out a sigh of relief and thought about how, if she had to root for someone, she’d rather see Julie win and welcome Vivian’s fat ass to the workforce.

Julie settled down to her meal, stuffing herself with sausage and gravy, gorging on waffles slathered in butter, gulping down buttery grits, and demolished an entire plate dedicated to a delicious stack of bacon and a second plate dedicated solely to candied bacon. Julie chowed down on a feast fit for a pig as if it truly were her last meal. She even had a cup of coffee, a glass of whole milk, and a glass of orange juice to keep her diet balanced and healthy. Once she finished everything, she let out a tremendous burp and then began the arduous task of staring at the pocket watch while contemplating what she would get for seconds.

The watch itself was made of beautiful gold with intricate carvings forming both concentric and intersecting circles and marked with a variety of arcane runes that Julie didn’t fully understand. She was fairly certain that the symbols probably related to time and space and lay lines and all of that kind of stuff, but she couldn’t figure out how. She wasn’t even certain how much of the details were key to the functioning of the watch and how much of it was just aesthetic. How much of the detail did she even need to actually understand to make this thing useful as anything other than a focus, and how much of it could she just trust would work? The inner workings of her mind were beginning to confuse even herself.

She knew the watch had several buttons that seemed to be used for setting its time. The inside of the watch had three faces. There was the main face with its hour, minute and second hand and numbers written out as elaborate Roman numerals. Then there was a second smaller face that to Julie looked like the same as the main face but set to a different time zone. And finally there was a third face, the same size as the second one, that Julie thought maybe had something to do with acting like a stopwatch, but every time she pressed the button all the lone hand on that face did was tick forward once and then reset itself.

The entire thing was an inscrutable and incredibly frustrating affair. Julie would have thrown the thing out the window if she was certain that it was the only chance she had in defeating Vivian. Still, she wanted nothing more than to give up and get herself some french toast sticks.

“Today’s the big day, huh?”

Julie looked up to see her fat Aunt Cassy standing there.

“I… ummm… yeah. Yeah it is.”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah.”

Cassy nodded slowly, biting at her lower lip as she contemplated what to say next. This was already the most the two women had actually said directly to each other in years.

“That’s good. I wasn’t nervous at all. Maybe that was part of the problem.” Casys awkwardly chuckled and then sighed and let her chubby hands rest on her fat belly which was absolutely stuffed into her janitorial uniform. She gave a thick roll of fat a squeeze as if to emphasize her point and then angrily slapped her bouncing gut with both hands.

“Well, hey- ya know that was me, and you’re you and I’m sure you’ll…. Damnit. Just… damnit Julie. I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Cassy collapsed in the chair opposite Julie. It immediately creaked under her weight. Cassy held her fat face in her chubby hands and shook it in frustration.

She held out her hands, and, without thinking about it, Julie let Cassy put them on top of her own.

“I fucked up. I ended up like this, and I couldn’t be there to train you, and I-” suddenly Cassy paused as her hand slid off of Julie’s as if she was exploring something else.

“What’s this?” Cassy asked as her gaze fell upon the stop watch.

“I um- aw hell.” Julie didn’t know what she should do, but at this point it didn’t feel like she had anything less to lose.

“It’s some kind of focus, and I think it does other stuff, but I can’t quite figure any of it out.”

“Let me see it.”

Her Aunt Cassy’s command, though gently given, did nothing but make Julie hold the pocket watch tighter.

“Julie, I’m not going to steal it. You know I can’t use it.”

Julie mulled it over as she flipped the pocket watch over and over again in her hand.

Cassy sighs.

“And I promise my touching it won’t suck out its magic or whatever. Just let me see.”

Julie hesitated for a moment and then handed the watch over. Cassy clicked the watch open, closed it, spun it around and looked at it every which way before sighing heavily.

“What is it?” asked Julie

“I… I was just hoping I would feel something.” Cassy sighed as she handed the pocket watch back over.

“No offense, but I was kinda hoping you would have something helpful to add.”

“Well… listen, Julie. It’s a totem right?”

“I… guess?”

“Totems, foci, these things are what they are for a reason. They take on elements of whatever it is you want to channel. So, for example, a pig statue- Pigs might symbolize greed, hunger so you might use it to curse a greedy person and make them hungry and fat. This is a pocket watch, so its abilities must have something to do with time. So think about what you can do with time.”

“You can do fucking anything with time, Aunt Cass.”

“Well, I can’t fucking feel it. Okay? You have to be the one to feel it. Where did you even get it?”

“A mirror witch in the mall.”

“A mirror witch? Divination specialist?”

“Aren’t they al-”

“So there it is! It’s got to do with your challenge. Time. When you’re there it should become clear. You just have to trust that you know what it will do and make it do it.”

“How?!” Julie let the watch fall from her grasp as she slammed her hands on the table and stood up as fast as her massively obese form would allow her to, her gut pushed the table into Cassy’s fat belly.

Cassy rose to meet her and her stomach pushed the table back. She waddled around it and put her hand on Julie’s shoulder, grasping it tightly.

“Confidence, Julie. You have confidence. Even more than her abilities, that’s what Vivian has, confidence.”

“Are you seriously telling me I have to believe in myself? You’re going with that cliche?”

“Hey. It’s cliche for a fucking reason, okay? There’s truth to it. You have the damn thing that can turn the tables on Vivian, and you have to be smart about how you use it and believe that you can because if you don’t believe it, you’re not going to be able to do shit. That’s magic! You do something that people say shouldn’t be possible, you say the words, do the the fucking gestures or whatever and fill it all with enough belief to make it fucking happen. So make it fucking happen.”

The silence that followed hung heavy in the air between the two fat women. Finally, Cassy grabbed the pocket watch off the table and handed it back to her niece, holding Julie’s hands cupped in hers as she did so.

“The watch is a totem. Anyone could stumble upon it, deduce what it does, and if they believed hard enough they could use it. But you have actual magic flowing within you. Your belief means more, and if you trusted yourself enough, you could make this watch do even more than it wants to.”

They looked each other in the eyes for a long moment before Cassy rocked on her heels and pat Julie on the shoulder.

“I gotta get back to work, okay? I’m sorry. Just…. I know I don’t look like the best person to give you advice, but just… trust me okay, it’s not as bad of advice as you might think. I’m right. I really am.”

As Cassy began to waddle away, a question bubbled up inside Julie that was seven years in the making.

“Hey, Aunt Cass.”

“Yeah?”

“How’d you lose your challenge anyway?”

Cassy shook her head. Her double chin wobbled.

“Stupid. The last part of my challenge included a race, chasing down components, solving puzzles, foot race back. I was passing the great oak when I looked back for just a second and caught my foot on a root. Been that way a thousand times and didn’t see it coming. So, keep your head on a swivel even when you’re at the end I guess.”

Julie chuckled.

“Was your training just gonna be seven years of cliches like that?”

Cassy playfully punched Julie on the arm.

“Hey. It may be obvious, but it’s still good advice. Okay? Take care of yourself. I love you, kid.”

Julie’s fat face sprouted a soft smile that revealed her deep dimples.

“I love you too, Aunt Cass.”

Cassy waddled off to go back to her janitorial duties, and Julie did the only other thing she could think to do at that moment.

She went and drowned a plateful of french toast sticks in maple syrup and let the time tick by.

And as the time of her challenge grew near, Julie waddled off into the woods. Instead of taking the main path, she took the long way around, a detour that took her past the great oak tree where her Aunt Cassy’s entire life collapsed seven years ago. She took a few moments to inspect that roots and branches carefully just in case.

With that done, Julie waddled up the hill to face her fate.

And as she approached the clearing with the setting sun at her back, Vivian was there waiting for her, flanked by Darla Gulch and Reyna Aguilar, now both full witches of the coven.

“Hey look, Lard Ass actually showed up. I thought you were gonna go wee wee wee all the way home, Piggy just curl your fatass up and stay there.” laughed Vivian.

Darla and Reyna let loose a series of oinks in response.

“You’re wasting your time, Fatso,” chided Darla.

“But hey, I can’t wait till we get to roll your fat ass out of here.” chirped Reyna.

Julie didn’t say anything. She just held the watch as tight as she could in her fist and stared them down.

Vivian saw the look in Julie’s eyes and for the briefest of moments she thought of that fat witch in the mall before shaking her head and dismiss the whole thing with a huff.

“Come on. Let’s get this over with. I want to get to enjoying my victory as quickly as possible.”

And with that Vivian led her fellow witches through the break and into the clearing. On the other side of the clearing stood the high platform with its dais in the center and behind it rows of seats like an amphitheater for full coven members and select guests to watch the proceedings. It was humming with activity.

As Julie and the others neared the platform, she saw another fat woman, the one she had met the other day outside of her mother’s office, Melanie, waddling in the opposite direction. She seemed to be having a rather challenging time moving her immense bulk across the uneven forest ground, but she was clearly too proud to ask for any sort of help.

As Melanie passed Vivian and her stooges, the mean girls greeted her with an array of derogatory farm animal sounds which Melanie completely ignored as she greeted Julie with a smile.

“Hey! You again. This your show?”

Julie chuckled from a mix of the nerves leading up to this moment colliding with the relief of seeing an unexpected but friendly face.

“Yep. Yeah… this is… this is for me- I mean and Vivian- but yes for me. This is my show, and I’m rambling and awkward and-”

“Hey.” Melanie gently placed a hand on Julie’s shoulder.

“It’s okay. Breathe.”

“Are you here to like watch?”

“Me? No. I’ve seen all that I’m allowed to see. Surprised I got this far honestly. My husband is something of an honored guest.”

Up on the platform, Melanie’s husband had a basket full of delicious smelling baked goods in one arm while his other arm was occupied by Mrs. Blake as she showed him around to her own gaggle of stooges.

“Ladies, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Yakov Boq. Mr. Boq and I are going into business together. He is, I must say, an outstanding baker, and I believe he’s brought us some delicious blueberry scones to sample.”

Yakov nodded and smiled and then looked down into his basket to fish out a scrumptious looking muffin.

“Except for this one. A little birdie told me Ms. Gulch is particularly fond of cappuccino muffins which happen to be a specialty of mine.”

Ms. Gulch was positively giddy as she took the muffin from Yakov’s hand. She snatched it up quickly enough to earn an eye roll from Vivian’s mother.

“Easy, Tonya. Let’s at least settle into the evening’s event before we start munching.”

Tired of waiting, to redirect the conversation, Mrs. Aguilar took this opportunity to jump upon the mention of blueberry scones to turn the conversation back to her favorite topic, herself.

“Speaking of blue, isn’t this dress I’m wearing divine?” She asked as she gestured to the figure hugging shimmering blue mini-dress that she was wearing underneath her traditional black witch robe, which she in turn was wearing open to showcase the dress and her figure.

“My girl made it just for me. She does fantastic work. Doesn’t she?”

The others nodded politely, barely regarding Mrs. Aguilar’s girl who was standing quietly behind her this entire time.

“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate the compliment.”

“Yes. Yes. I’m sure you do.”

Mrs. Aguilar reached behind her without looking back to pat the waifish blonde on her arm.

“Now be a good girl and get me another drink.”

The blonde woman dutifully pushed up her glasses and wandered off to do as she was told without another word but with a small eye roll that went unnoticed by everyone else.

As the women went back to talking amongst themselves, they suddenly realized that Julie’s mother was now amongst them. Mrs. Blake rose to meet her.

“High Mother, we have been waiting.”

“Thank you, Annabelle. I apologize for my lateness. I had an important meeting to attend to, but it’s all settled now.”

Julie’s mother looked over the women, noticing Mrs. Hargrove’s absence.

“Is Vanessa not joining us this evening?”

“No. Unfortunately, Vanessa has business to attend to in regards to her poor, fat daughter Eloise.”

“Very well,” Julie’s mother nodded and then turned to regard Yakov.

“And this is?”

“This is Mr. Yakov Boq, my personal guest,” stated Annabelle Blake with a sinister smile on her face.

“Very well. It looks like we’re all met then. So let’s get started, shall we?”

Down on the testing ground, Julie stood near Vivian and looked up to see her mother take place at the dais flanked by the other current members of the coven’s council, her Aunt Calpurnia, Vivian’s mother, and Vivian’s sister, Elizabeth.

“Welcome all. We are gathered this evening to bring an end to this year’s contest, our one hundredth quell. In this, our final challenge, we see two fine witches, daughters of this council in Julianna and Vivian. As is our way, to bring balance to the coven Vivian will be representing the top of her class while Julianna represents the chance that we offer all who are of our coven, even the lowliest.”

The weight of her mother’s words weighed heavily on the heavyset Julie.

“To celebrate our one hundredth quell, this challenge shall harken back to our first. A simple duel. Wands at twenty paces. The winner is the first one to disarm their opponent.”

Julie felt a lump in her throat and a knot in her stomach at the idea of trying to fight Vivian in a matter of pure magical strength.

“But in order to reach your opponent, you must master the true challenge. Time.”

The ground began to tremble, and the silver cloud of energy, the same silver cloud she had been seeing in her dream and had witnessed first hand seven years ago, emerged the the council members. And from out that cloud came a crackling lightning bolt that struck the ground at Julie and Vivian’s feet.

Like lightning burning through wood, the silver energy coursed through the ground igniting it around Julie and Vivian, each contained in their separate ring. Inside rings the light lit up runes and markings, roman numerals and moving lines of light that formed two identical clock faces for the witches to stand on. The light then shot up in walls around them before twisting itself and forming a translucent dome above.

Julie could feel the energy course through her body as it tied itself to her, binding Julie and Vivian together even as it kept them separate.

“This is a challenge of wills. In order to disarm your opponent you will have to strengthen your own and shave down theirs. All of your time lay before you. You have been given quite literally the opportunity to learn from your mistakes and fix them, or to strike at your opponent in an attempt to twist their fate and make them falter. The path is yours to choose, but be wary, messing with time can have grave consequences on the mind, the more jumps you make the more will is required. To push yourself beyond three is to tempt madness.”

Julie’s mother took the time to pause and let her grave warning sink into the minds of each of the women. Julie looked over at Vivian who gaze right back at her with coldness in her eyes and her shoulder haunched like she was ready to pounce.

“Now, time is yours. Make of it as you will.”

Julie looked at her mother. For just a moment, she broke from her stately performance as the High Mother and was just Julie’s mother. The two locked eyes, and Julie could feel her mother’s belief. She dug down as deep as she could to summon whatever confidence she could. She thought of her Aunt Cass, and as she did so she looked straight up and saw the patterns of light weaving themselves in the doom.

A series of concentric and interlocking circles.

And she knew exactly what to do.

The confidence surged within Julie. She looked across the way at her slim and sexy rival, the woman who had been the bane of her existence these last seven years, and she knew.

She was about to ruin this skinny bitch’s entire life. She had all the time at her disposal to twist Vivian, to turn her into a fat little piggy, to make her into everything Vivian had ever hated, to ruin her life and balance the scales even before even reaching this moment right here. With the past sprawled before her she knew - KNEW - that she could pay Vivian back with pounds of punishment, the full weight of revenge would crush Vivian under pound after pound of pudge.

Julie felt the watch glow warm in her hand and heard the tremor of the second hand as it slowed. Tick. Tick…. tick……. tick……

She imagined Vivian blooming before her eyes, Vivian’s trim waistline blowing up, her abs melting away into a generous potbelly. Her neck grew hot at the vision of Vivian’s thighs bulging out and rubbing together, her back growing rolls of fat tied to thick love handles, folds of flab finding their way onto Vivian’s ever expanding form. Bulging belly. Ballooning breasts. Blubbery butt. Julie could see it all as she imagined a future of Vivian turning into the fat ass loser she deserved to be.

She was certain she could hand Vivian years of torment and turn her into a fat pig if she could just pick her spots correctly. Three jumps. Enough time to lay the groundwork, plump her up and then get back here to finish her fat ass off for good.

She could do it.

Her Aunt Cassy was right.

She believed.

Holding the pocket watch behind her back and out of Vivian’s sight, she flicked it open and clicked the button.

One extra second. First go.

In an instant, she was gone.

The Scales of Time Teaser

As promised, here's a bit of what's coming tomorrow morning.

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She clutched the watch in her fat fist and closed her eyes wishing more than anything that she could go back to sleep, sleep through this day and the next and never have to worry about her challenge. She could let Vivian take her spot and just her life humbly with what little power she had and not risk the punishment that would await her inevitable failure.

But sleep was impossible. Her anxiety saw to that, so Julie lumbered out of bed and decided to do the next best thing.

She went to get breakfast.

At the dining hall, Julie observed Eloise’s obese form as the former skinny bitch now had her bloated body behind the counter serving up sausage gravy and biscuits to the masses. Eloise's shoulders were slumped and her head hung in perpetual shame which really made her doughy double chin stand out. Her greasy hair hung limp but was largely held back by the hairnet she was forced to wear.

People who knew Eloise would snicker as she served them. Occasionally, as she slopped sausage gravy onto people’s plates, some of it would haphazardly splash back and land on the apron that encompassed Eloise’s expansive belly. As Julie approached she could see the remnants of gravy at the corners of Eloise’s mouth and on her chin along with the crumbs that covered the top of her shirt and signaled her own early morning messy pig out session.

Eloise refused to look up and make eye contact as she served Julie her food, but her entire fat body trembled at Julie’s presence.

.....

Julie settled down to her meal, stuffing herself with sausage and gravy, gorging on waffles slathered in butter, gulping down buttery grits, and demolished an entire plate dedicated to a delicious stack of bacon and a second plate dedicated solely to candied bacon. Julie chowed down on a feast fit for a pig as if it truly were her last meal. She even had a cup of coffee, a glass of whole milk, and a glass of orange juice to keep her diet balanced and healthy. Once she finished everything, she let out a tremendous burp and then began the arduous task of staring at the pocket watch while contemplating what she would get for seconds.

......

The entire thing was an inscrutable and incredibly frustrating affair. Julie would have thrown the thing out the window if she was certain that it was the only chance she had in defeating Vivian. Still, she wanted nothing more than to give up and get herself some French toast sticks.

“Today’s the big day, huh?”

Julie looked up to see her fat Aunt Cassy standing there.

"Nightmare Pigs" Chapter 3

Fattest Tuesday week rolls onward with this new chapter of my commissioned work, "Nightmare Pigs". As a reminder, all of my patrons get  350 additional words for free whenever you commission a piece from me. Anyway, this chapter was an intimidating blank page for a long time, and then it just flowed. I hope you enjoy it.

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Bethany Richardson was woken by the sound of something that sounded like a broken trumpet. It was a jarring alarm in the middle of the night, and the only thing more jarring was the horrid smell that wafted into her nose shortly after.

“Oh Jesus, Cynthia. What the fuck?”

The only answer that Bethany got from her roommate was another lower rumbling sound deftly muffled by Cynthia’s heavy covers and another wave of smell that made Bethany gag.

“Ugg. You’re seriously disgusting and-”

Bethany blinked. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness from the room. They were aided by a strange bit of moonlight leaking through her dorm’s window. There was a part of Bethany that wanted to get out of bed and investigate, to see what exactly seemed so suddenly out of place and maybe even account for her roommate’s strange behavior.

But there was another part of her, a deeper part, fighting to keep her in place, a fear of the unknown, of what might be out there beyond the safety of her covers. It was a simple, silly, childhood fear and clung to her with one very specific warning.

There’s a monster under the bed.

But believing in monsters was for scared little girls, and Bethany was a fully grown woman, the smartest she knew. She wasn’t going to let something as illogical as a fear of bedroom boogeymen keep her from finding out the truth.

So she sprung her lithe form out of bed. Her dainty form was clad in her pink satin pajamas, a pair of slim pants with a matching button down top. She enjoyed the idea of being buttoned up and semi-professional looking even in her PJs. Her dainty feet danced on the cold ground before she slipped them into some fur lined slippers, real fur. Bethany never bothered with any kind of fake fur, and she thought anyone who would give her crap for that was a weak, earth hugging crybaby, and Bethany had no time for hippies.

The air in the room felt and smelled stale, far from the usual scent of eucalyptus and peppermint that Bethany preferred when it was her turn to pick what went in the essential oils diffuser, and even though Bethany could see that the window was open, she felt no breeze, no cool relief as she walked over to her roommates side of the room with a tingle of dread still itching at the base of her skull.

Dust on the ground created a clear, dank line of demarcation between Cynthia’s side of the room and Bethany’s. Her side of the floor seemed to be covered in dust and felt strangely colder. Bethany shivered as she crossed over it. The floor itself was also littered with several containers and fast food wrappers that Bethany had to kick out of the way to get to Cynthia’s bed.

“What the hell, Cynthia? Did you have, like, a party by yourself while I was sleeping? If so, you really pigged out.”

As Bethany neared the bed, the stench grew stronger, and Bethany didn’t want to know what would happen when she threw back the covers, but as things stood she couldn’t see Cynthia who was wrapped up under her blankets like a caterpillar in a cocoon.

But even that didn’t look right. Bethany stared at Cynthia’s filthy sheets, covered in crumbs and stains of all types. They looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in… well, it just looked like they hadn’t been cleaned ever. And the mass they were covering was far more massive than the slim and sexy Cynthia.

“Do you have someone over, you naughty girl? You’re supposed to at least warn me.”

Bethany reached a tentative hand out and placed it down on the blanket. She could sense the heavy breathing of someone underneath it, but just one… large someone. Both of Bethany’s hands pressed against the crumb covered blanket, feeling the softest of the comforter but also of something else. It felt like she was pawing at a giant sponge as if there was one person underneath here, one incredibly fat person.

Bethany ripped off the comforter and screamed!

This was not Cynthia! Underneath the blanket was a massively obese slob of a woman where Bethany’s slim roommate was supposed to be. This hog of a woman had a tremendously spherical and doughy belly, but Bethany’s hands had been sinking into moments before, tree trunk thighs, and a titanic ass that greeted her unveiling with a massive blast of flatulence that made Bethany stagger backward.

The great slumbering hambeast with its nails painted black was clad only in a pair of granny panties that looked like they had seen far better days. The whole bed creaked under her large weight as her fat body wobbled and eventually turned in Bethany’s direction. The woman’s big fat gut sloshed around and slapped onto the bed, an action punctuated by another fart.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!!!” screamed Bethany.

The woman started to snort, and her fat face jiggled. She was a jowly pig of a woman, but for a moment she opened her eyes and Bethany could see.

“Cy-Cynthia?”

The eyes that looked back at her were Cynthia’s now beady and partly hidden behind her overly chunky cheeks. And in those eyes there was a moment of helplessness and fear that drifted into a sinister sneer and then a docile calm before slipping back to sleep. Bethany could see it all.

What she didn’t see was the deep purple smoke billowing out from underneath her own bed.

“Holy shit, Cynthia how… what…” It was like her brain was fogging.

“You… you really let yourself go. Seriously, Cynthia. You’re a real fatass now.”

“She’s quite something, isn’t she?” whispered a voice behind Bethany’s ear.

“She’s quite disgusting is what she is. Look at her. She turned herself into a massive slob. She’s a fat, flatulent, pig.”

The voice grew closer.

“Tell me about it.”

Bethany shuddered and felt compelled to reach out and grab the side of Cynthia’s fat, greasy belly, it was covered in a sheen of cold sweat and something that was either ketchup, barbecue sauce, or a combination of both.

“I mean, just look at this gut. It’s a disgusting sack of fat. She used to have great abs, and now it’s just all flab, thick, heavy, sweaty flab. She smells like she hasn’t bathed in forever. She’s a tremendous gas bag. Every part of her is coated in fat, and sweat, and food. She’s a complete pig, a hog, a sow. A fat, sweaty, stinking, sow!”

Bethany really felt the cold sweat from Cynthia’s fat belly and recoiled. She pulled her hand away and as she looked it, it looked like it had swollen up from a bee sting. Her formerly thin hand was a swollen mitt with chubby digits as if she had absorbed some of the fat directly from Cynthia’s stomach.

She blinked and shook her hand, and it was normal again.

But now she could feel the purple smoke tingling at the back of her neck.

“Wh-who are you?”

“That’s the question; isn’t it, dear? But I have one for you. Are you ready to join your friend?”

Bethany spun around but there was nothing there.

“Looking for someone, dear? You haven’t answered my question, you proud, preppy little bitch.”

It was as if the voice was coming from right in front of Bethany, but there was nothing there. All she could see was her side of the room, immaculate and clean with everything in its place just as it should be, organized, aligned, perfect just like her.

“This isn’t real. You’re not real. This is a dream.”

“You’re close. I’ll give you that. You are dreaming. This is your nightmare as well as hers.”

Bethany heard a trumpeting blast of gas from behind her and turned around to see Cynthia who was now tossing in her sleep. Her body was squirming, but not just from tossing and turning.

It was getting fatter.

Her flesh was stretching, bubbling with fat as the girl who could have once made it as a beauty queen was devolving further into obesity, filling up her bed. Cynthia’s big gut eventually began to spill itself over the side of her mattress.

“But this is all very real.”

“Oh God!”

“And you haven’t answered my question. Are you ready to join your piggy friend?”

Bethany spun around again to confront her tormentor and found herself standing in the middle of her college dining hall.

Standing in front of Bethany was a very tall woman with an exaggerated hourglass figure, long dark purple hair and bright yellow eyes.

“Where? What? What do you want from me?” stammered Bethany.

“I already told you. I want you to join your friend.”

“How?”

“You’re going to get fat for me, darling.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Am I?”

“I would never. Fat people are disgusting. They’re lazy slobs, beneath me in every way.”

“You’re so driven.”

“Exactly. This body takes work. You think it’s easy to be hot? To have abs? Every moment of my life is precisely scheduled to make sure I am achieving my goals. And lazy fatties wouldn’t understand that.”

“You mean, she wouldn’t?”

“Of course not. She’s a lazy, disgusting, fat pig.”

“Oh come on.”

“What? You think she’s better than that? You want me to be nice?”

“No. I think you can be far meaner. Come on. Tell me what you see. Let it all out.”

“She’s a disgusting cow. Just look at how wide she is. It’s a good thing she’s sitting on a bench because a single chair wouldn’t hold her. If you could sit her on a chair without her immense bulk breaking it, her fat ass cheeks would be flowing over it. She’s dripping with fat, loose, disgusting fat. It hangs off of her in thick folds, and sitting in a chair would be comical. It would look like she was trying to swallow it with all her ass fat.”

“And she’s so fat that she’s lucky she’s able to even reach the table with her gut so fat. Look at how large and doughy it is. Look at how much she has to squish it against the table just to make sure her fat arms can reach all the food she’s eating, and she needs a lot of food to fill that greedy double belly of hers. It’s a monstrous thing, a sack of fat, a gut that’s hanging out of any shirt she ever wears and over the waistband of  whatever poor overtaxed sweats she can manage to squeeze her incredibly obese body into. Her ass is certainly too wide for anything other than the stretchiest of pants. Her wide load ass and the thick thunder thighs that go with it! Those are blubbery tree trunks for sure. If she could get herself up and waddle about we’d see what a big fat lumbering piggy she is.”

“And no wonder she’s so fat, so morbidly obese. Just look at how much she eats, and how! She’s truly an animal. She just stuffs her face with plate after plate of junk, empty calories and grease and she’s far too fat and lazy to work any of this blubber off. She’s probably too lazy to shower too, I can smell her from here. She reeks of sweat and… and pot! She’s a fat lazy stoner, probably proud of her hairy pits, the disgusting slob.”

The fat girl’s only response was a long, winding…

PPHHHFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFPHHHHHHHHHRRRRPTTTTT!

Bethany waved her hand in front of her nose.

“Disgusting! She’s an animal! A lazy pig! A cow! I bet she spends all day eating, smoking weed, and passing gas. Right, you dumb cow?”

“Hey! Did you hear me, you smelly loser, you lazy stoner. Are you listening, you big bloated loser?”

“Know your betters, piggy. You could learn a lot from a hottie like me. Do you hear me, you saggy sow? Listen to me. Look at me!”

Bethany pulled on the fat girl’s shoulder and turned her as best as she could. The fat girl’s greasy hair swung and her fat jowls jiggled along with her multiple chins as she turned her head to look up at Bethany. Even with her head tilted upward, she still had a clearly visible double chin.

Bethany screamed at the sight of the puffy, greasy, acne riddle face looking back at her.

“Oh, God! Sh-she’s…”

“Yes.”

“Me!”

“Indeed she is!”

Bethany’s hands rushed to her tight body, touching herself up and down to make sure everything was still there. She was still the same prim, proper, put together professional woman that she had always been, still perfect.

“This- this is impossible. This can’t be happening.”

“I’m afraid it is. You’re looking at your future.”

“This can’t be right. I can’t turn into a pig like this.”

“Pardon me for indulging myself with a reference, but search your feelings, piggy. You know it to be true.”

A chill of recognition shot up Bethany’s spine.

“H-how long do I have?”

Scarlet’s face contorted into a sinister smirk.

“Until right now.”

She pointed a solitary elongated finger at Bethany whose stomach rumbled before her ass erupted with a loud fart. Bethany began to cough at her own flatulence.

“Please. Don’t do this.”

Scarlet stared at Bethany sternly.

“Now. Now you beg. Too late. You’ve been a mean girl, greedy, a vain schemer and a liar, full of hot air.”

PPHHHHHRBBBT!

“I’m sorry. Whatever I did. I’m sorry.”

“They all say that. And they always say it too late. Now say goodbye to your abs.”

Bethany felt her stomach and got one last moment of touching her rock hard abs, just enough time to say goodbye before the muscles began to melt into flab and then that flab began to bloat outward like a fat filled balloon. What were tight abdominal muscles became pulsing pudge that began to pour through the gaps that began to form from her growing gut pushing apart the fabric around the buttons of her pajama top. As the fat oozed forward, Bethany tried to fight its advance and desperately push it back into her body, but all that resulted in was…

PFFFFFRRRPPPHHHT!

A tremendous burst of flatulence that caused Bethany to drop her belly in surprise. The spongy fat drooped down and bounced around jiggling like jello as another burst of gas escaped her rear causing Bethany’s hands to fly back there as if doing so was going to be able to seal off her gas leak. Instead, what she found horrified her further.

The toned muscles that she was used to were gone, and the fat from her ballooning ass cheeks was already so much that each cheek could not be contained by the hand that grabbed it. The fat oozed through her fingers and with another blast of gas and surge of fat, her pink pajama pants ripped open. Her flabby cheeks were free to flap in the breeze, and she could feel the spongy, cellulite covered flesh with her hands. Squeezing the blubbery butt cheeks was like kneading two big fat balls of uncooked bread dough.

Back in front, Bethany’s bloated belly finally burst the buttons of her pajama shirt and flopped out and over the waistband of her pants. It bounced up and down as Bethany let loose a well-timed burp.

“Not so put together now, are we?”

Bethany scooped up her belly fat with her hands and cried.

“Please. Please be done. Aren’t I fat enough? And disgusting enough as it is?”

“Oh, you want me to leave you like this?”

“Yes. Yes. Please. I can still lose this weight and-”

PHHHPPRRRBBBT!

“I can live with the gas.”

Scarlet poked Bethany’s pudgy pot belly.

“You’re saying you want to be chubby?”

Bethany quickly jumped at the chance to cling to whatever sliver of hope she had that this could all end. She’d be willing to live with the price of being a chubby loser who could whip herself back into shape if it meant avoiding becoming an absolutely obese cow.

“Yes! Yes! I want to be chubby. I’ll be a chubby, gassy loser. That’s what I want, to be a chubby, gassy loser.”

Without Scarlet’s help, Bethany purposefully made herself squeeze out a little toot to show Scarlet that she was cooperating.

“See? Gassy. No more pretty, preppy girl. I’m a farting little piglet. I’m embracing it. I’ll be the chubby, gassy loser you want me to be. I deserve to be punished. I deserve to be teased and humiliated as a naughty, gassy little piglet. Just make me chubby and leave me be. Please. PLEASE?”

For a moment, Scarlet actually thought it over, but only for a moment.

“No.”

“PLEASE!!”

“We haven’t even gotten to your thighs yet.”

On cue, Bethany’s thighs began to touch together as the muscles turned to flab and ripped through her pants bursting seams as legs great for strutting became thunder thighs made for waddling. It was like the entire process was speeding itself up now. Her thighs grew thicker and thicker with soft, squeezable fat.

“Don’t you want to be a lard ass?”

“Yes! Yes. I’ll be a lard ass. Give me a lard ass. I’ll shake my big fat booty. Just please stop this. Stop it now.”

“Fart for me again.”

Bethany lifted one fat leg and let out another fart that sent her blubbery cheeks wobbling. Ever the overachiever, Bethany squeezed out a second stinker just to be safe.

“Do that again, but give me the old truffle shuffle as you do.”

With tears in her eyes, but still hoping to mitigate the damage being done to her beautiful body, Bethany lifted up the remains of her pajama shirt and began to shake her entire body, farting as she did. This sent her chunky belly wobbling.

“That’s good. Now oink for me and tell me what a piglet you are.”

Bethany began to snort at the air like a pig.

“Oink. Oink. I’m a little piglet. Oink. A naughty little piglet. Oink. Oink. A naughty, fat, and gassy little piglet. Oink oink oink. And that’s what I want to be, a fat gassy piglet. Oink oink oink. That’s what I deserve. I shouldn’t be a slim and sexy hottie. I should be a chubby little piggy with a fat stinky butt, not a tight toned one with a big lard ass. Oink. Oink. SQUEEEEEAAAAAL!”

PPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRHHHHHPPPPTTT!

Bethany was panting and sweating, working up a faint but funky body odor that that Bethany was only faintly aware of.

“Is that enough? Will you leave me alone, now?”

“You do make a pretty good little piglet.”

Bethany actually began to smile at the sense that this might be all over.

“Th… thank you.”

“But I’m gonna go whole hog with you.”

Bethany’s face blanched with panic before it began to swell with fat. Sweat broke on her forehead and her cheek bones became buried by fat. Jowls dropped downward into a thick double chin. The sweat began a sheen of grease, and acne erupted across her shiny skin.

Her entire body ballooned with fat. She swelled out of chubby and well past fat into the realm of morbid obesity. Her clothes fell away leaving her just into her well used and tearing underwear. She truly looked like an obese hog of a woman with big saggy breasts spilling out of her bra. She was adorned by rolls and folds and stretch marks. And her fat flabby ass continued to let loose firecracker after firecracker.

“Now you’re the obese, smelly sow,” laughed Scarlet as she shook Bethany’s belly.

All Bethany could think to do was hold her fat face in her chubby hands and sob.

“I… I am. I am a fat, smelly sow. Look what you’ve done for me.”

“Don’t worry. We’re almost done. I have a lot more business to attend to tonight.”

Bethany’s body odor grew worse as her armpits grew thick patches of her. That hair began to spring up everywhere, along her arms and legs and up her happy trail. The previously slim, prim and proper Bethany was now fat, sloppy and unkempt, a big bloated, gassy hog.

“And I think you need to relax.”

Suddenly, Bethany found a blunt in her mouth, and as she inhaled she could feel her brain getting fuzzy as all her anxiety melted away soon replaced with a rumbling hunger.

“Got the munchies there, Big Bee?” asked Scarlet as she motioned to a table filled with plates of greasy dorm food.

“Go to town, piggy.”

Bethany dove at the food, her entire fat body wobbling, and she began to greedily stuff her face with handful after handful of food, double fisting a variety of junk and shoving it into her mouth without care as to what it was. She just crammed what she could into her greedy mouth, oinking and farting as she did it. She was a sloppy sow who couldn’t help herself.

Scarlet cackled with laughter as she turned back into smoke and reappeared in Bethany and Cynthia’s actual dorm room which was indeed a mess littered with fast food containers and more. The air was thick with the smell of stale food, sweat, and flatulence. And the two pretty popular girls turned fat pigs were tossing, turning, and farting in their creaking beds as they remained stuck in their nightmares.

“Two piggies down. Three to go.”

Vote on the Next Exclusive Cuts! (Volume 6)

Last time I had a poll for exclusive cuts where patrons got to choose the kind of people that were transformed, personal trainers were the winners. Now that we have more patrons here to vote, let's see what our next outcome will be.

I will leave this poll open till Tuesday afternoon, and then on Tuesday night I'll make a post for people to make story suggestions based on the results.

Who will be gaining weight in the next round of Exclusive Cuts? It's up to you!

"Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts" Volume 5 (Couples Edition!)

As Fattest Tuesday week continues, please enjoy this Valentine's Day Edition of Exclusive Cuts with three stories that will only ever be published here.

“Heartbreak Makes a Hog”

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Richard had always been the fat one in their relationship. His now ex-wife, Penelope had always been the glamorous one, the slim and sexy one, the more put together of the pair. Theirs was a marriage that Richard had hoped had love in it but, he had to eventually admit, was more about show.

Richard had known Penelope since high school. He had always been the fat loser, and she had always been the skinny popular bitch. So once Richard got out of college and became filthy rich through a tech startup he had gotten started in his dorm room as well as a few other tremendously shrewd investments and along with several incredibly high paying crazy long parlays on several sports betting sites, he didn’t think twice when a woman as smoking hot as Penelope came a calling. He knew she was a filthy gold digger, and he also figured she would make an excellent trophy wife at least until they could learn the best of each other and form a true, loving relationship.

Then, Penelope left Richard for her tennis instructor, Chad in what was the most cliche turn of events that Richard could think of. So now he could think of only one other thing, revenge. And he knew exactly what his revenge was going to be.

He was going to make Penelope and Chad into fat, broke, slobs. He’d turn them into big, broke, pigs.

Richard was determined to see his greedy ex-wife turned into a greedy pig, a great big lumbering slob, poor and desperate. He enjoyed the idea of her crawling back to him on her fat hands and knees, her body and bank account broken desperate for his attention, and then Richard would be the one to reject her, to throw her fat ass out onto the street and let her wallow in her misery.

So Richard made plans to use his money and influence to rig certain events to alter the lives of Penelope and Chad. First, Richard made it looks like things were going very well for the happy and vain couple. They seemed to become uncannily lucky. They won free coffee, free food from Thick Burger, and a free cruise! They especially loved the cruise.

The cruise was exactly what one would want it to be, a great place to relax and do nothing but drink your face off and sop up the hangover by indulging in the all you can eat buffet. And Penelope and Chad really did take advantage of that buffet. All it took was a little bit of a nudge. Richard arranged for a man to be on the cruise to take advantage of Penny and Chad’s love of partying and sell them a bunch of drugs. It just so happened that some of those party drugs were incredible appetite enhancers.

Penelope and Chad stuffed themselves silly on the cruise, breakfast burritos and pancakes and waffles slathered in butter and syrup. They ate crab legs and lobster and lamb chops and steak. For desert there was every kind of pastry one could imagine, every kind of cake and pie and flavor of ice cream. The greedy gold diggers stuffed their bellies full. They were already greedy little piglets at the buffet, and they couldn’t help themselves. All the alcohol and drugs kept them in a constant haze which made them incredibly pliable.

And soon their bodies began to become more pliable as well. At the beginning of the cruise, Penelope and Chad were slim and sexy hardbodies. They were trim and fit without an ounce of fat on either of them. They loved to spend their days on the cruise lounging around in their swimwear, whenever they weren’t eating. And soon their rampant indulgence began to show as the first pounds began to settle on their waistline. Their precious abs became covered in a thin sheet of pudge, soft malleable fat that went under their notice for the longest time.

It was easy to make excuses. They were eating and drinking so much. They must have been perpetually bloated, not gaining weight. And that was half true. They were definitely bloated all of the damn time thanks to the way they were constantly gorging themselves, but the two greedy piggies were definitely packing on the pounds, and by the time the nice long cruise - the full summer! – came to an end, the two gluttons had grown some guts. They were nice and out of shape with soft, stretched out bellies and a distinct lack of muscle definition all around. Penelope and Chad had spent three months falling into Richard’s trap and turning into chubby little piglets.

And he wasn’t near done with them. Yet.

The cruise had hit Chad the hardest. His belly had grown into a full on pot belly. His pecs had softened into moobs, and his thighs and butt had grown thicker and flabbier. All of this would have been an inconvenience for most people, but it was devastating for Chad the professional tennis coach whose now inability to effectively play tennis and due to increase in weight and decrease in athletic shape and ability cost him his clients which meant losing a lot of money and gaining a lot of stress. And that stress led the vain little piglet to the one thing that had been his comfort for the last few months. Food. Lots and lots of food. And the food he had easy access to thanks to the vouchers he and Penelope had won was Thick Burger.

So Chad turned to inhaling fat, greasy burgers smothered in all sorts of fattening toppings. He told himself it was fine as long as there was avocado. Avocado is a healthy fat! But bacon sure isn’t. And Chad loved bacon on his burgers, and all the bacon led to a bigger belly, bigger moobs, and big bingo wings instead of his formerly muscular biceps. In short, the fitness hunk was turning to chunk and becoming a real fat boy.

And Penelope was close behind. She was stuck in an endless cycle of indulgence and denial that only her vanity and greed could sustain. Her ignorance kept her eating and growing fatter until it was far too late to turn back. She noticed Chad’s unsightly weight gain far before her own and eventually dumped his fat ass and left him to wallow at Thick Burger where he was eventually forced to get a job to support his junk food habit. Penelope had far too much pride to ever end up working in a place like that, but the free food that she was still getting was too good to pass up.

Penelope began to realize just how much weight she was putting on when she noticed the decided lack of male attention that she was getting. And then when she put herself out there she felt the brutal and humiliating sting of rejection over and over again. Even when she did manage to take a guy home, nothing ever lasted for long. Everything tended to come to an abrupt end.

The only thing that never seemed to end was Penelope’s hunger. She turned to food more as more men turned her down, and soon she was no longer the slim, trim, sexy model that Richard had married. She was a fat, out of shape, obese slob of a woman whose primary activity during the day involved stuffing her face. Penelope became a whale of a woman with a huge spare tire, and a big blubber butt, juicy wobbling ass cheeks paired with thick tree trunk thunder thighs. Everything fleshy fold and juicy roll in her body dipped and sagged and jiggled and was covered in cellulite and or stretch marks. She was a big blubbery mess and her life was going nowhere.

This was especially true once Richard manipulated things to tighten Penelope’s finances. Soon Penny found herself with pennies to her name. Penelope turned to her family, but all they did was chastised her for becoming a greedy, lazy piggy, a fat slob, a big piggish loser. And that’s when Penelope reluctantly came waddling back to Richard.

And Richard was ready to throw her out onto the street. He really was. But she was just so damn fat and pathetic. And she was throwing herself at his feet, and he couldn’t say no to that. So Richard ended up with a new pet piggy to play with. Penelope was his again, and this time he would do whatever it was he told her to do.

Especially if what he told her to do was eat.

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“A Couple of Couples Pounds”

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Darla and Susanne loved each other very much. They were a perfect couple in many ways. They were madly in love from high school on and had shared interest in so many things. They loved cooking and biking and hiking and watching cheesy romantic comedies and sci-fi action flicks together. They were swimmers, and theatre lovers. They enjoyed weekly date nights where they tried new places to eat. Life was perfect for them.

The only hiccup came once they got out of college and had to find actual jobs and pay actual bills instead of coasting on their parents' money. And they did. They were hard working individuals. It’s just that all of the work left them extremely tired which meant a lot of their more active hobbies began to fall by the wayside replaced by long nights of cuddling and movie watching and snacking.

They still made sure to keep the weekly date night thing going, and they loved to try new foods together, something that would have a predictable effect.

It started as a few pounds here and there, a little bit of the inevitable love chub as it were. They got comfortable together, stopped feeling like they had to put on a show, and as they relaxed their tight muscles began to relax as well, relax their way into becoming chubby pockets of fat. Their waistlines began to grow as dinner dates got more elaborate and dates to the gym became less frequent. Clothes began to grow tighter, but the nice thing about casual gym wear is that, even when you’re not actually using it to go to the gym, it stays nice and stretchy which can make the early signs of weight gain much less noticeable.

But those signs can’t go unnoticed forever.

For Darla, that notice came the first time she ripped her pants. Darla was always the more bottom heavy of the two, and once she started to really pack on the pounds, that became more readily apparent. Darla’s tight buns of steel lost their ability to defy gravity as they blew up into blubbery butt cheeks, a full on lard ass that began to sag and then bounce with every step. That wobbling wide load of a butt was paired with two thick thunder thighs thighs that started rubbing together. All of this became extra clear when she bent over one day to pick up a piece of brownie that she had dropped, and her pants split straight down the middle and at the sides thanks to her saddlebags.

Susanna simply chuckled softly and then did her best to console Darla who was eating the piece of brownie that had caused her wardrobe malfunction. Susanna also knew at this point that she wasn’t one to talk since her own shirts weren’t exactly fitting like they were designed too.

Whereas Darla was a pear shaped fatty, Susanna’s body settled into much more of an apple shape. Her abs had turned to flab and become and expansive pot belly that made any t-shirt that she tried to wear ride up and reveal her deepened belly button. Her jiggly gut always announced its presence boldly, and the plump pudginess of her stomach tended to ooze through the gaps that her gut made between her the buttons of her shirts. Those buttons were further stretched by the growing size of her already generous breasts. They became absolutely massive in size and caused a significant amount of pain in her back, a back that was growing some juicy fat rolls.

The athletic couple that they were had disappeared, replaced by a couple of chubby girls who were well on their way to full blown fatness. And what they found, even as they were disappointed to lose their slim bodies that they had been so proud of, that it didn’t really matter. Instead they found that with each other, cuddled up together, the softness that they had was something to be embraced. It was a comforting warmth as they extra flesh produced extra heat, and it turned them both on. They grew in size and in love with each other, supporting each other through thick and thin.

Emphasis on the thick.

“Making the Dough”

Ali loved her husband, David, and he loved her. They were the kind of couple that talked things out and supported each other. They were the envy of all of their friends, a slim and attractive couple that seemed to have it all.

But David had a dream. He wanted to own a bakery. It was a dream of his since childhood, and before settling down and working on starting their own family, Ali and David decided that this was their best time to follow David’s dream. So David quit his marketing job, and Ali scaled back her hours at work as an accountant so that she could help David with his books. And she also took on a second job.

She became David’s official taste tester.

Ali had until that moment been all about the numbers, and then suddenly it was like a switch went off in her brain and she became all about the fabulous confections that David was producing. She turned her analytical brain toward analyzing everything that David put in front of her. She enthusiastically ate every single bite of every single piece to be absolutely certain that she was able to fully appreciate and describe everything in extensive detail to make sure that David was producing the best pastries possible. And to Ali’s luck, David was a pretty incredible baker, and everything he made was delicious. This, of course, meant that Ali felt the need to double her efforts as a taste tester to get to the deepest nuances possible and push David to somehow make his work even better.

And while Ali the accountant was excellent at counting calories, Ali the taste tester was lousy at counting calories. This had predictable effects.

Tasting all those doughy treats made Ali doughy indeed. Her trim waist ballooned outward into a pudgy muffin top complete with a portly pot belly and thick love handles. Her butt thickened as well each cheek becoming like two large loaves of fat. Her flabby butt cheeks made wearing slacks rather difficult. Luckily, being a taste tester doesn’t really require much in the way of professional dress which meant her usually primp and proper attire became retired as she started to wear almost exclusively sweatpants, attire that also quickly became covered with powder, chocolate, jelly, etc., any kind of crumb or other fragment of David’s delicious treats. She had transformed herself into quite the tubby slob, not that David cared.

In fact, as the pounds piled onto Ali, David’s love, and lust, for her only grew. And as that grew, he found himself eagerly feeding her more and more, and all that extracurricular feeding meant that Ali’s weight gain sped up.

She went from petite to plump to positively obese. Ali grew into a great lumbering slob of a woman, slow of movement because of the thunder thighs that left her walking instead of waddling, she remained sharp of mind, and, although her figure had become bloated beyond recognition, her mind for figures remained focused. She was both an excellent account and taste tester, and with her skills and guidance, David’s business grew even more tremendously than Ali did.

David’s belly grew as well. His trim, athletic figure gave way to a dad bod, and eventually it became a true dad bod indeed as he and Ali were able to start a wonderful family together.

And, almost like a fairytale, they lived together fat and happily ever after.

Bad Influence: Chapter 1

Here it is. As voted on by you, my wonderful patrons (in a very close race between this and Snobs to Slobs), I give you the first chapter of "Bad Influence" based off of the short story of the same name that appeared in "Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts Volume 4".

To make sure I keep up with my commission work, "Bad Influence" will be a monthly feature. That makes this story a great value to my patrons because it means I won't be releasing this chapter anywhere else until April, and by then we'll be three chapters deep here on Patreon.

Enough with the sales pitch though, let's get to the story.

Synopsis: Claudia is a skinny bitch, and her bad attitutude and penchant for fat shaming has caused her promising influencer career to become canceled. Now the prim and proper diva finds herself desperate enough to team up with a fat slob of a guy that she used to make fun of. The consequences will be weighty.

Enjoy!

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“Seriously? Look at me, I’m gorgeous.”

Claudia wasn’t lying. She had a stereotypically hot body, a slim hourglass figure complete with a trim waist and flat tummy. Any curves that she had were curves in all the right places including a cute heart shaped ass that had people’s jaws dropping to the floor whenever she walked by. She had long lean legs that contributed to her model quality strut. She was all confidence and ego, a tremendous brat with a great body, a cunning brain, and a bad attitude.

“You think that someone as slim, and sexy as me would ever go to prom with a fat loser like you. I’m going to be Prom Queen. I can’t possibly be with a big fat slob like you.”

Claudia was looking down at Reggie, the stereotypical fat nerd of her school, a guy known for wearing nothing but jerseys, partly because they represented the sports teams he was into but mostly because they did a decent job accommodating his large size. He was well known around school for being a total simp for Claudia, following her around like a trained puppy, doing her homework and what not. Currently, the poor guy was caught at the losing end of one of those stupidly elaborate promposals.

“I’m perfect, the kind of girl that makes friends and influences people, who gets whatever she wants.”

And with a crowd now gathered around the two eighteen year olds, Claudia was dead set on doing what she did best, which was putting on a show. She bent over and put her hand on Reggie’s shoulder while he was still down on one knee and then shook her tight ass for the other bystanders to see and enjoy.

“I mean, seriously Reggie, look at you. You’re a big fat lazy pig. For somebody who claims to like sports so much, you’re certainly not athletic. You’re just a big fat sack of crap, a lazy wide load loser. You’re nothing like me. I actually care about my body. I work hard at it. That’s why I’m pretty and popular, and you’re a desperate pervy loser who does my homework whenever I ask. It’s just so easy for hot girls like me to have fat losers like you tied around my skinny little finger.”

Claudia condescendingly pinched one of Reggie’s chubby cheeks.

“Let me tell you what the future looks like for us, Reggie. I’m going to be a big success. I’m going to make lots of money, marry a rich handsome man, and retire early so that I can spend my days lounging around the pool in my skimpy bikini, my lithe figure just as perfect and tight as it is now. I’m destined for a life of glamor. And you?”

She poked Reggie in the chest, right near his broken heart.

“You’re destined to be a fat ass living in your mom’s basement forever, growing fatter and fatter as you stuff your fat face with greasy junk food. You’re going to be a big fat slob, a pervert and a loser for the rest of your life, with a belly so big you can’t even reach your tiny dick. Got it? You’re going to spend your life jerking it to pictures of girls like me.”

Claudia suddenly made a show of bolting upright and bringing her hand to her mouth in a display of disgusted surprise.

“Ewww. Do you already do that? I bet you do, you fat perv. I’m gonna tell everyone what a fat creep you are. You’re going to be an even bigger loser in this school, Fatso.”

Claudia could tell by the sounds of laughter coming from the crowd that her prediction was correct, and she decided to start a victory lap for herself by leaning over again, flashing the tops of her breasts and patronizingly patting the fat nerd on the head.

“But I’ll be nice.”

She spun around and swung her hips, waving her perfect heart-shaped ass right in Reggie’s dumbstruck face.

“Take one last look at this tight ass, Reggie. You wish you could be with a girl as smoking hot as me, but it’s never going to happen. Hot girls like me just don’t date fat nerdy losers like you. Deal with it.”

With a triumphant flip of her hair and without looking back, Claudia began to strut down the hallway when she heard-

“You might not always be hot.”

Claudia stopped suddenly and spun on her high heel to look at the nerd who was just now daring to speak up to her. She was determined to cut him back down with a glare.

“What was that, Piggy?”

Reggie stood his ground, and in fact did begin to literally stand even as his wobbly knee buckled a bit and his voice was filled with a nervous tremor.

“You’ve got a great m-metabolism now. B-but when y-you’re older you m-might gain some weight.”

Claudia came storming back toward her prey. The crowd between them parted, eager to watch this showdown.

“M-m-m-might gain some weight? You’re a big fat idiot. You know that? I’ll never gain weight.”

Anyone else might have backed off, fallen into complete submission under Claudia’s pointed heel, but Reggie decided that, if he was a dead man anyway, he might as well double down.

“Y-you might. You might even get fat.”

Claudia staggered backward in a sudden and unexpected burst of fear as if Reggie had just thrown down some kind of horrifying prophecy.

“Me? Fat.”

Reggie, now emboldened, decided to press his advantage further.

“Yeah. You could be the porky one.”

Claudia had had enough and reached out with both hands to twist a thick portion of Reggie’s belly fat, making him yelp as those around him let out a gasp of shock followed by raucous laughter.

“Hey, Fat Boy. Let’s get one thing straight. You’re the piggy. I’m perfection. It’s always going to be like that. Piggy. Perfection. Understand? Can you even imagine me becoming some fat loser?”

And for the briefest of moments, an image flashed across Claudia’s mind that sent a shiver running up her spine.

She saw herself in a basement somewhere, her perfect figure long gone, replaced with a perfectly piggish one instead. She was sat before a table full of junk food, stuffing her fat face with all sorts of crap not caring about how much she was eating or how much she was actually getting in her mouth. Claudia was acting like a great big slob, stuffing her face with chips and getting crumbs all over the place and then wiping her hands on her greasy shirt.

The ill-fitting pink shirt was already covered with numerous stains and was stretch out and failing to cover her great big spherical gut. Claudia’s spare tire, stuffed to the brim with food was a heavy mass of jiggling, stretchmarked fat. The shirt, stained with food, and grease, and sweat, rode up enough to reveal Claudia’s incredibly deep belly button and the angry red stretch marks that surrounded it. It came with a matching set of thick love handles and surged outward onto her big fat lap.

Underneath her gut were thick, flabby thighs in, ironically, athletic shorts. They were huge thunder thighs covered in cellulite that spread out and stuck to the beat up couch that Claudia was sitting on. They were useless lumps of fat, a far cry from the lean but athletic legs that Claudia was used to. They were a sea of pale, jiggly flesh that crashed like waves of fat against each other. Claudia’s thick thighs were covered in sweat and whatever grease she had rubbed off on them.

She couldn’t see it, but Claudia could tell that this vision of herself had a great big fat ass that was sinking into the couch. It was a true spongy couch potato ass, a wide load full of jiggly lard. It was a broken down mack truck of a booty, bloated with fat and made huge by binging on junk food and sitting on it all day long. The flabby cheeks were nothing like the perfect, curvy but tight, luscious- bounce a quarter off it- ass that Claudia currently had. This vision of Claudia had a doughy dumper.

Claudia watched in horror as she lifted one of her bloated ass cheeks and ripped a titanic fart while reaching back into a bag of chips to stuff her fat face some more. That fat face was complete with acne, jowls, and a thick wobbly double chin. Claudia couldn’t stand it anymore.

A second, even bigger fart ripped Claudia back to reality, and she blinked a few times before turning her attention back to Reggie, grateful that that horrible nightmare of a vision could never come true. She would never let herself become a fat slob, a pig, like that.

She shook her head and let go of Reggie’s stomach.

“Seriously, Reggie. Just accept it. The sooner you realize what a fat ass loser you are and learn to stay in your lane, the better your pathetic fat slob life will be.”

Claudia didn’t waste another moment on Reggie and walked off, leaving the pathetic fatty crying in front of everyone.

That’s how the rest of Claudia’s high school career went. She was a dominant bitch who loved putting losers, especially fat ones, in their place. She did go on to win Prom Queen, and when she went to college she was head of her college cheer team just like she was in high school. She became president of her sorority and was a well known member of the college party scene. People worshiped her, and she loved being worshiped.

Claudia could have done pretty much anything out of college, but she was addicted to the attention, addicted to the idea of still getting people to do things for or because of her. So, she put her hot body to work and became a full-time fitness and fashion influencer.

It was pretty easy to grab followers with her cheerleader body and her dance team moves. She wore some skimpy outfits and put on a show. She would shoot some videos of her working out, nothing too strenuous, she didn’t want to actually break a sweat on camera. And then she would shoot plenty of videos of her trying on a variety of sponsored outfits, most athletic wear and athleisure wear which was basically the same as athletic wear but a bit more socially acceptable to lounge around the house in.

She gave makeup tutorials and gave diet advice. Claudia had cultivated a following as she curated an image of herself that was somehow kind and approachable while also being incredibly hot. She had people fooled into thinking she was a caring person.

But tequila has a way of making people honest.

To celebrate her one million followers on Instagram, Claudia decided to have a big livestream event and during that party she had a few too many tequila shots which brought the real Claudia out.

“I’m just saying, fatties are lazy. They are. If you’re a fatty, you’re lazy. That’s why you’re a fatty, fatty. You’re a big fat fatty fat fatty because you’re a lazy pig who ate yourself into becoming a lazy fatty, moooooooooooooo.”

“And all this body positivity bullshit? It’s bullshit! Fat people should be ashamed of themselves. Fat is disgusting. It’s disgusting to be fat. If I were fat I would be disgusted that I was so fat and that I had gotten to lazy to get to fat because I couldn’t stop stuffing my piggy fat face.”

“But look at me. I’m gorgeous. I’m like super hot, right? Soooooo hot. And I’ve always been hot. And I’ll always be hot. I’m a hottie with a body. And fatties hate that. They want to make me feel bad about being hot because they’re fat losers. Well guess what? You’re not fat because I hate you. I hate you because you’re fat. Body positivity is bullshit. I’m positive fat is disgusting, flab is disgusting, and fat people should get off their fat asses, hit the gym to shed their disgusting flab, and stop acting like they’re actually good looking. You’re not good looking, you land whale!”

“And people tell me I have pretty privilege. Fuck that. I’m pretty, and it’s your privilege to look at me. And I’m sure there are plenty of you fatties who wish I would gain weight or whatever, but it’s not gonna happen. That doesn’t happen to people like me. I’m not going to be one of those people who peaks early, gives up on themselves and shows up to the high school reunion and absolute bloated cow. Sorry not sorry, bitch. I’m a hottie forever, and that’s another reason I’m better than all of the dumbass fatties that follow me, jealousy and pervy and just wishing the could be me or bang me or whatever, you fat losers.”

It was a rant to remember, and that rampant fat shaming, along with plenty of other unsavory comments, caused Claudia to hemorrhage followers and, more importantly, sponsors. It didn’t help that in a panic over the loss of sponsors she doubled down on her anger in subsequent videos, then did a fake sounding apology video, then a retraction of her fake sounding apology video, and then another fake sounding apology video.

Claudia was in a spiral with no way out.

And then came Reggie back into her life by way of slipping into her DMs.

“Hey, Claudia. Looks like you’ve hit a rough patch and could use a hand. You’ve still got some followers, and my crew could use a hot girl in a bikini to boost our numbers. Hit me up, and let’s collab.”

A collab? With that fat loser? Who the hell did he think he was reaching out to her for a handout. And did he really think he would be just his hot bikini babe? She was so much more than that. She was a style icon, a model, a real influencer…. Although….

With her follower count continuing to dwindle and her sponsorship money dried up, she really did have to consider all her options. So she gave Reggie a look.

It turned out that Raunchy Reg and the Boys was a burgeoning multi-platform media empire. They were on Twitch, Instagram, Youtube, Tik Tok and several podcasting services. Reggie had a whole crew of guys working for him, creating content. They were known for talking sports and streaming video games but also hardcore eating and cooking challenges and just random hangout videos. Claudia was shocked to find out that Reggie had way more followers than she had at her peak, and his Klout score was more than double her highest. Still…. She could see that he was smart. His crew lacked feminine presence, and bringing her in as the hot one would diversify their content and audience even more. Plus, with the vast array of creative stuff that they were already doing, Claudia could probably carve out her own pretty nice niche for herself.

But no, she couldn’t bring herself to work for a fat ass loser like Reggie…. Even if he wasn’t technically a loser anymore. She would find some other way to make money. Maybe would sell pictures of her feet or something.

She left Reggie on read and went to sleep.

And that’s when the dream happened.

In her dream, Claudia found herself in a small and filthy apartment that reeked of sweat, grease, and stale beer. It was a disgusting place littered with empty fast food bags and all sorts of wrappers from a variety of junk food. It was a dump in every way imaginable, and there in the middle of it all was Claudia.

Out of money and options, Claudia had become her worst nightmare, a porky slob. Her greasy hair was pulled up into a lazy ponytail that showcased her chubby face. Her skin was greasy and acne riddled her face, including her double chin. She was a bleary-eyed beer swilling loser wearing nothing but a food and sweat stained tank top and tight granny panty-style underwear that had clearly seen better days.

Without the money to afford a gym membership or healthy food, Claudia had lazed about and chunked up on junk food. Her pudgy pot belly didn’t fit her tank top and forced it to ride up over the stodgy paunch. It was quite the beer gut on someone who had previously been so in shape. She would have chastised many a sorority sister for rocking a gut like this. Her greasy belly and the shirt that barely covered most of it was stained with Cheeto dust. No- not Cheeto dust, dust from some kind of cheap off brand cheese ball. Claudia’s muffin top was completed by a pair of stretchmark covered love handles that also lurched over the waistband of her worn out panties. Her breasts were saggy and unkempt, technically bigger but much fatter, bloated messes covered in day old stains of some kind of mystery sauce.

Claudia’s ass was a lumpy mess, spilling out of her well used underwear. It was comprised of two chunky cellulite covered cheeks that looked like they knew her dirty couch cushions too intimately. They were bloated balloons of saggy fat that sloshed as she waddled about the room, stopping every once in a while to let out a puttering fart.

That waddling was due to Claudia’s chunky thunder thighs. They were meaty messes, thick like tree trunks made of wiggling jello and had robbed Claudia of her model strut. Claudia waddled about her apartment, kicking aside old fast food containers and picking up any leftover junk food that she could stuff her fat greedy face.

She was a naughty little piglet who couldn’t stop eating, a fat loser now that her influencer career had collapsed. Instead, she spent her days lazing about, gaining more and more weight as she filled her boredom by binging on junk food. She took a big swig from an old can of beer, crushed it on her forehead and let out a tremendous burp.

A burp that coincided with the blasting of her alarm. Claudia woke up in a cold sweat and swiftly ran her hands all over her tight trim body to assure herself that it had all just been a terrible nightmare and that she wasn’t suddenly some fat slob. No, being a fat slob couldn’t be an option. She needed to pull herself together and get back on top. There wasn’t going to miss the one opportunity that had come her way since her collapse.

If Raunchy Reg and the Boys needed a hot girl in a bikini, they were going to get the hottest bikini babe imaginable. Claudia would use those fatties to salvage her brand, build a new audience for herself, and then leave their fat asses in the dust.

Claudia shut off her alarm and got to work messaging Reggie back.

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I hope you enjoyed this chapter of "Bad Influence" if you're eager to see how things go, chapter two will be releasing the week of March 25th, so you're going to want to stick around and see it on this Patreon since chapter two won't be releasing anywhere else until at least May.