BS Writer

Looking for Sequel Suggestions (And Here’s Some Updates)

I hope people have enjoyed “Fat Trimmings” Volume 31. And while I’m working on “The Scales of Time” (teaser coming tomorrow and BIG chapter hopefully coming Friday or Saturday) and “Sorority Sister Swells” (look for a teaser this weekend), I’ve also got my sights on “Fat Trimmings” Volume 32.

As revealed with the help of the Munchies in volume 30, volume 32 will feature sequels to other stories in the anthology just like volume 32 did.

And that’s where you come in!

I need suggestions for sequels. Last time you gave some really great ones, pulling out some deep cuts that led to some very well received sequels.

Here’s what’s already on deck:

Another Fat Making Notebook story. (Look for a poll to vote on which one coming out tonight!)

Another Munchies story. (They positively will not let me get away with not writing one.)

Another visit to Katrina’s Closet.

And then I need suggestions from you (including a Thick Burger story specifically)

Given the number of stories I’m likely to do for this one (because I really want to have room for at least two or three patron suggestions) this may be publishing on Wednesday or Thursday rather than Tuesday.

Thanks for your time and suggest away!

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 31

Here is Volume 31, another three stories and 3,000 words. No Thick Burger story this week because I needed to get out two other pieces for this edition and ran out of time. I didn't want to put this out tomorrow, and I want to be able to put focus this week on "The Scales of Time" finale which will be out later this week.

Enjoy!

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“You’ll Get Fat”

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It’s bold of you to be so mean, to flaunt your body like you do and treat others with such blatant disrespect. You love to showcase your stunning curves and precious abs, and you love to make fun of and humiliate others, especially fat people.

But I know your secret. I’ve seen your parents. They’re a couple of fatties, and not just slightly overweight either, they’re massively obese. That’s our family genes for you, all of us destined to be bursting out of any jeans we try to wear, but nowhere near as big as your parents.

I may be your favorite fat punching bag, your hefty cousin, and I know my mom and dad, your aunt and uncle both happen to be fatties. But they’ve always told me one important thing that has been keeping me going all these years, through all the jokes you’ve had at my expense.

It’s only a matter of time.

You’ll get fat.

Your abs will go away, you’re going to grow a gut just like your parents. It’s going to be a big spongy spare tire that spills over the waistband of your pants, a glorious gut decorated with stretch marks and complete with thick love handles at your sides to give you a full on muffin top. It will be so delicious to see, so soft and doughy and ready for pinching and poking. I’m going to enjoy shaming you like you shame me as I knead the fat of your stomach rolls. Yes, rolls. Your gut is going to grow so big that it’s a big blubbery double belly, and I’m going to squeeze both your lower and upper roll at the same time to really emphasize how fat you’ve gotten and what a pig you are.

And your famously trim waist won’t be the only thing getting tubby. Your heart-shaped but will become a full lard ass as well. You love calling me lard ass, don’t you? I can’t wait to see how you like it. Lard Ass. Lard Ass. Lard Ass. That’s what you’ll be with your big dumpy dumper. Your ass is going to get so fat but so soft and saggy as well. It’s going to be a truly titanic sight, two huge unsightly blobs of fat covered in cellulite and wobbling about with every step.

Those steps are going to become slow and lumbering because your toned athletic thighs are going to become tubes of quivering fat, thick thunder thighs that will slap and press together, forcing you to waddle about. That slow movement will give everyone plenty of time to see what a pig you’ve become.

Oh, then there’s your face of course, you’re beautiful face, your perfect angelic face. It’s going to become a round bloated mess with a nice thick wobbling double chin. That adorable upturned nose of yours is going to end up looking real piggish, and your double chin will be yet another neon sign signaling your gluttony.

You can’t escape it. Your already large appetite is going to increase, and your metabolism is going to crash. The pounds are going to pile on as you become the very thing you’ve always hated and made fun of, a fatty. Someone who will be subject to all the names you’ve called others, including your own parents: a greedy pig, a lazy cow, a beach whale. I can’t wait to see the fear in your eyes as the weight begins to climb.

And I don’t think it will be that long.

Where are your abs?

Is that a little bit of pudge I see? Why, I think it is. Yes. You’ve put on a little wait their haven’t you? You’re not so perfect. And this is just the beginning. I’ve seen how many hotdogs you’ve eaten. You just can’t help yourself. Food is getting to be too good. The gym is getting too hard to get to. You’re getting lazier. And you’re gaining weight. Pound by pound, they’re creeping on. I can’t wait to see you at the next family reunion.

You’ll be fat.

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“When You Wish Upon a Star, It Doesn’t Matter How Fat You Are”

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Heather was tired of being the fat friend. She had always been the fat friend, and for a long time she considered herself lucky. The people she was friends with, well, to put it lightly, they weren’t typically very fond of or even nice to fat people. They were bullies. But Heather, being the right amount of subservient and having just enough style to be appreciated, had somehow found her way into- or at least to the fringes of- the popular crowd, with her two best friends being Mackenzie and Alexis.

And that had gotten her through high school.

And college.

But now several years removed from there, stuck being the fat friend- the single fat friend- to cry on during a break up (Heather will always have ice cream!) and to make people feel better about themselves (at least I’m not as lonely as Heather), especially about their bodies (I may have let my diet slip a bit, but at least I’ll never be as fat as Heather), was getting quite old. The thing she hated most of all was being used as a cheap form of motivation. (Better watch out. You don’t want to turn into Heather. A second helping of dessert? That’s such a Heather thing to do.)

What Heather wanted more than anything was to be the thin friend, to be admired, to outshine Mackenzie and Alexis. And one night, she happened to see a shooting star and made a silly little wish to “be the thin friend.”

The next night was Heather’s chance to host game night. She had woken up that day disappointed to see that she wasn’t a hundred pounds lighter and vowed to keep the snacks simple so as to not tempt herself too much. If Heather couldn’t get thin by wishing for it, she was determined to get there the old fashioned way, through diet and exercise.

And then her friends showed up, and everything was turned upside down by one massive surprise.

Alexis and Mackenzie were massive! While Heather might not have lost a hundred pounds, it was very clear that Alexis and Mackenzie had both gained over two hundred! They had huge bellies that hung out of their shirts and over the waistband of their pants. Their hips were so large that when they went to enter her house at the same time they almost got stuck in the door because their hips were so wide. Luckily, they just kind of bounced off each other’s blubber. Once they finally entered the house, they waddled over to the couch because their thighs were so huge. Each of their thunder thighs was the size of what their trim waists used to be with fat to spare.

As they got to the couch and sat down with Heather between them, the couch groaned under their combined weight, and Heather found herself squished by the other two fatties. Their love handles pressed against Heather as they surveyed the food she had laid out.

“What’s with this lame spread, you skinny bitch?” asked Alexis in the same kind of “joking” tone that she used to use to comment on Heather’s dietary choices- and… well Heather figured she was still talking about her dietary choices, but it was weird as hell to hear it this way.

“Yeah, tiny. What are you trying to do, starve us?” added Mackenzie.

The small spread that Heather had left out was demolished quickly, mostly by Mackenzie and Alexis.

And that’s how things went for a while. Mackenzie and Alexis were the fat ones who loved to torment their “skinny friend” Heather. Eventually Heather got tired of it and decided she was going to do what she did best, eat and get fatter. But as she gained more weight, so did Mackenzie and Alexis. For every pound she gained it seemed like they gained two.

So Heather got a wicked idea.

She went into overdrive with eating, gaining well over one hundred and fifty pounds. At that point, Mackenzie and Alexis found themselves wedged together on Heather’s broken couch. The too bloated land whales were now too fat to move and completely reliant on their “skinny” friend Heather.

Heather was finally by default the leader of her friend group, and her piggies would have to be nice to her if they wanted to stay plump and well fed. She may have still been fat, but she was thas thin compared to the blobs of fat that were Mackenzie and Alexis, and she was in complete control. That would have to do.

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“Two for One at Katrina’s Closet

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“Two different customers at the same time?” asked Mathilde as she gaped at the two women entering the shop separately but at the same time.

“It’s unusual, but it does happen,” responded Gwendolyyn.

Usually the magic of the store bought in one customer at a time. Or it brought in a pair of customers shopping together. It’s why Mathilde was the only one really needed to staff the front of the story with Gwen providing managerial support and assisting on occasions like this where two completely different people with different agendas each needed help at the same time lest one of them walk out without receiving their proper karmic comeuppance. It was at moments like these where the two considered the store to be absolutely swamped.

The two women were both similar in that they were stereotypically gorgeous and carried themselves with a high amount of confidence that made it clear that they thought very highly of themselves. They both clearly had an air of vanity and a disdain for others, but they were dressed rather differently. One of them had to look of a fitness influencer strolling about in her athleisure wear, and the other one was dressed to the nines oozing money in a designer dress. She looked like she was absolutely slumming it in this mall, so Gwen and Mathilde could both tell the magic was working overtime to bring her here.

“I want the fancier one,” announced Mathilde while practically salivating.

“No. She’s mine.”

“Oh, come on. She’s so snooty looking, and the ones with money are so much fun to mess with.”

“To fix. And yes, that’s why she’s mine.”

“But I called dibs.”

“And I’m the manager.”

“Uggh. Fine,” Mathilde said, giving in with a heavy eye roll and walking toward the athlete.

It wasn’t long before the two workers found out that the customers were Piper Moore, a fitness influencer experiencing a large boost in her followers lately and looking to splurge on some new non-sponsored gear, and Lila Alexopoulous, a minor heiress intrigued by this boutique that she had never seen before. 

Mathilde led Piper to the athleisure section.

“Of course, we have a whole selection for you to try on.”

With a grin she picked up a pink outfit.

“I think you’ll find this very interesting.”

Across the store, Gwendolyyn led Lila to the lounge wear.

“I don’t really lounge. Do you have cocktail dresses and evening gowns, something that oozes elegance yet sex appeal.”

“Just me, Miss Alexpoulous, you’re a woman on the go who needs to be able to relax in style. Try one of these sweatsuits on. I promise it’s a life changing experience.”

In the dressing rooms, Piper found that the pink athleisure wear looked great on her and it fit great too.

And then it started to get a little tight.

Piper suddenly felt a wave of lethargy washing over her. Her head spun, and as she gathered herself again she looked down and saw a horrifying sight.

Her abs were no more. Instead, she had a spongy pot belly that hung out over the waistband of her pants. Wrapped around the thick bulge of fat were matching love handles that completed the muffin top that Piper was now sporting. She reached her hands around, prodding the unfamiliar flesh and found that she could pinch fat more than just a generous inch.

Piper’s whole body grew plumper, losing the tone that the fitness influencer was known for as her body stretched the pink athleisure wear. Her thighs grew softer and thicker and were squeezed out the bottom of her shorts. Her ass grew plumper and developed a lot more chaotic bounce to it than previously. Even Piper’s face grew softer with the start of a double chin.

She was not tremendously fat, but she was decidedly unacceptably chubby by the time she stumbled out of the dressing room.

“Oh, that’s it huh?” Mathilde greeted her with a disappointed sigh.

“That’s it? I’m fat!”

“You’re chubby. I’m fat.” Mathilde responded with a pat to her own voluminous belly.

“This is unacceptable.”

“Honey, consider yourself lucky. This is one of those learning moments.”

“Learning what?”

Mathilde cracked her knuckles.

“Okay. Ominous warning that I sincerely hope you’ll ignore time. Piper Moore, you have been living a life of vanity which you have taken for granted choosing to flaunt your body and degrade others rather than helping others. You will never lose this weight and always be chubby, but if you don’t learn some body positive and change your vain ways you will find yourself growing fatter and fatter until you are a complete greedy, lazy, fat and spoiled pig- which honestly I was hoping you were going to come out of that dressing room as.”

Piper stomped her foot and her entire chubby body quivered.

“This is unacceptable. Change me back.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No. Now pay me.”

“Pay you? For turning me into a pig?”

“Pay for you for a very important life lesson,” Mathilde said with a smirk surmising from Piper’s attitude that it was a lesson she was hopefully doomed not to learn.

“This is unacceptable, and I’m going to tell everyone about this.”

“Yes. Yes. Tell everyone you know that a magical clothing store that they won’t be able to find any evidence of made you gain weight. I’m sure everyone will believe that story and not think you’re crazy or anything at all. Now trust me. Pay me or this whole thing gets worse.”

Piper could already feel the waistband of her shorts growing tighter as her hips grew wider. She quickly handed over her card.

“Thanks. You can go ahead and wear that out.”

With a heavy sob, Piper bolted from the store, her body’s constant jiggling a persistent reminder of the weight of her previous vanity and the new life she had ahead.

Mathilde sat back at the counter and sighed.

“I mean. That was pretty good. I was just hoping for something more.”

Her musing was interrupted by a loud trumpeting sound coming from the dressing rooms.

PPPHHHHHRRRRRRRBBBBTTTTT!!!!!

Lila was shocked at the abrupt and tremendously loud sound that erupted from her behind along with the rank smell that filled the dressing room, but before that smell could even reach her muscles, her hands flew to her offending butt cheeks where she was met with yet another surprise.

Her previously tight buttocks were now feeling far more blubbery. And as she ripped another fart and tried to somehow stop it by squeezing her cheeks together she felt that fat squish through her fingers as they pressed deeply into the malleable flesh. When she let those cheeks go and let loose another tremendous blast of gas, her but cheeks quivered. And then they grew heavier and began to sag. Lila would have continued to probe her fat flatulent ass if she wasn’t additionally panicked about just as much about what was happening in front as what was happening to her rear.

Lila’s abs were going away. Her stomach was inflating. It felt at first like it was with gas, and some abrupt burping seemed to confirm, but as her hands touched her expanding stomach it was clear that most of the new expanse was from fat. It was a growing pot belly that surged forward with fat no matter how much Lila tried to push it back in. The fat oozed through her fingers, fingers that were becoming quite chubby themselves as her arms blew up into pillows of fat.

Every bit of Lila grew fat, including her thighs which thickened until they touched together, her breasts which, while not nearly as fat as her belly, surged out and downward, saggy masses of stretch mark covered fat, and her face which became a round bloated mess with greasy skin to go with her now oily hair as well as jiggly jowls and a doughy double chin sprinkled with patches of acne.

The heiress who had spent so long showing off her flawless figure with her elegant lifestyle now looked like a fat slob whose entire life was spent being a disgusting couch potato. Even the clothes themselves developed a pattern of greasy stains as if she made a regular habit of messily eating and wiping her grease stained hands all over herself. She also had a series of sweat stains, especially under her armpits and her belly that suggested that her habit for showering was not nearly as prominent as her habit of stuffing her face.

Lila couldn’t help but lift her arm, flabby bingo wing wobbling, and sniff her armpit, cringing at her more pungent odor.

By the time Lila staggered out of the dressing room and waddled to the counter, compelled to pay for the transformation she had just received and too afraid to say anything about it, she was an irreparably changed woman, a flatulent fatty whose thoughts were focused on how badly she wanted to get out of here and how badly she wanted to eat. She got to the counter and gave her father’s credit card to Gwendolyyn who was smiling at her.

“Ah yes. You’ve got from daddy’s spoiled rich girl to daddy’s pathetic pig. Serves you right for being such a greedy, lazy woman. Now the outside matches the inside. Enjoy your new life. I’m sure the next family gathering is going to be very interesting.”

As Lila waddled away, Mathilde looked over at Gwen.

“It’s not fair. Yours was so much more interesting. I wanted something like that.”

“Well, I am the manager, so I’ve earned what I want,” replied Gwen as she eyed Mathilde’s thick figure up and down.

“Shall we break for lunch?”

Story Suggestion Call and An Update on What's Coming

Hey! I think the last one got lost in my flurry of productivity, but I'm still looking for suggestions for "Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts Volume 8 - Sorority Swells!" Give me your best sorority weight gain story ideas, and you may just see them written.

And now an update:

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 31 will be dropping on its normal Tuesday. I already have one story written for it, "You'll Get Fat". This volume will likely be a little shorter because I want to focus on the second project I plan on releasing during the week.

"The Scales of Time" Chapter 13 is coming. I'm not going to make everyone wait for it. I want to get to the big finale (with two epilogues still to come), and this finale is going to be grand with lots of transformations. I look forward to it. Expect some kind of teaser during the week.

Anyway the focus of this post is actually to collect sorority based story suggestions, so please, suggest away.

"Sam the Ham Ponders Her Piggishness"

Wanted to do a little warm up today, and it turned into this. a spinoff of "Fit Friend, Fat Friend" focused on Samaira's point of view. It's slightly over 1,000 words.

Enjoy!

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Samaira knew she had pretty privilege. She knew she could get away with things and people would give her stuff just because she was pretty. Samaira knew that she had a fun and easy life ahead of her, and she enjoyed it.

She also enjoyed having so many friends, friends of all kinds who could be admirers as needed and make her feel better about herself in the rare instances that even her, Miss Perfect, felt a little down. That’s exactly why she kept Layla around.

Samaira liked Layla. She was friends with Layla, but the problem with Layla was that she was fat, and Samaira could only really tolerate fat people so much. Layla was a good soul, a kind person with a lot of loyalty who was definitely grateful to be around Samaira and her group of hot friends. It was good to have a fat friend in the group, someone who made everyone else look even hotter by comparison and someone people could enjoy gently teasing, or really being catty about behind her back. Yes. It was the perfect set up, and Samaira knew it was all going to continue to be perfect.

Life was always going to be easy.

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Life was hard. And Samaira responded to that difficulty by getting fat. The pounds piled on over the years in ways that she never thought would be possible.

It was small at first, a few party pounds. She heard the vultures already starting to whisper behind her back, but she wasn’t going to let that get to her. She was certain that she could lose it quickly. Her abs weren’t gone forever. They had just gone on vacation. Samaira didn’t realize that that would be a permanent one.

But she just couldn’t stop her gut from growing. As her life got more difficult, food became more comforting, and the pounds kept piling on. She tried to diet. She really did, but she just couldn’t help herself. The painfully privileged girl wasn’t used to being denied things, certainly not by herself, so restraint was not her strong suit and no diet was stuck to for very long.

Her gut filled her hands and grew as she continued to stuff herself until it was a tight round drum. Samaira felt disgusting, she felt fat and lazy and gross. She knew she was becoming the kind of girl she would have made fun of, and she wanted to turn back, but the food was too much to resist, and after a while she basically just gave up.

Samaira hated the way her once toned thighs started to touch, and the way they kept getting fatter and touch more was maddening. She had been so proud of the way she could strut like a model and turn everyone’s attention toward her. Now she felt like a waddling pig who turned people away in disgust. And she couldn’t blame them.

They used to love to check out her ass, but now that ass was also a chunky mess just like the rest of her. It was a flabby mess with blubbery cheeks that made her miss her perfect, perky heart-shaped butt. Her hands had a habit of groping her chunky cheeks, feeling the adipose squish between her fingers. They were like two fat sponges, and just like sponges as the fat piled on it was absorbed heavily into those growing cheeks.

There was something strange about it. Even though everyone chastised her. Even though she knew she was supposed to get her life and figure back on track, Samaira found it so much easier to just let go. She decided that this was what she deserved. As humiliating as it was, and as much as she hated the rude comments she was getting, all of it made her eat more and grow fatter, and there was this tiny part of herself that was thrilled by her own perceived ruination. It was a thrill that lived inside her as a tiny ember that burned with every bite of greasy food and every judgmental comment and stare.

And Layla would be the one to turn that ember into a roaring flame.

That’s what brought Samaira to her knees, literally and figuratively. Layla was the fit friend now. Samaira wasn’t just her fat friend. She was more than that. She was Sam the Ham, her loyal pig. She gave it all up in a quest to get fatter. It was humiliating to have her fat squeezed and played with, to be constantly reminded of how hot she used to be and how vain she was and how mean she could be. But it was also incredibly arousing, to have her belly squeezed, her thighs pinched, her as spanked.

And to stuff herself. Samaira loved to stuff herself. She loved to feast, and loved even more to be hand fed by Layla. She stuffed her face regularly with deli meats, pasta, cakes and pies and cookies and ice cream. If it was junk food, it found its way into Samaira’s continually growing stomach. Sam the Ham would eat what she was told to eat and then beg for even more. She needed to feel full, and with her gut and appetite growing by the day, that got harder and harder to do, and her feasts became more and more elaborate along with the performances that Layla would have Samaira perform for her.

She was a hungry and obedient hog, and it was a relief to leave her old life behind and just become a full-time pet. She now had nothing to worry about but eating and getting fatter. Sometimes Layla would take videos and pictures of Samaira and her activities for the internet as a way to make additional income. And of course, Samaira was brought around to show off in front of her other friends, now serving as the fat one to make fun of and make everyone else look even hotter in comparison. Samaira was very proud of this. She knew Layla loved it and she loved Layla. She wanted to please her.

She wanted to be nothing more than a fat and happy pet piggy.

"The Scales of Time": Chapter 12

Here it is, the penultimate chapter (not counting the two epilogues I have planned). This baby clocks in at 3,000 words on the button and includes a moment that I have waited months to write. I was very excited to put it into words, and I'm equally excited for you to read it.

Enjoy!

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Vivian could be beaten. Vivian could be fat. She was fat. Julie had made her fat, and she could make her fatter. It seemed so strange, so petty of a thing to hold onto when the stakes were so impossibly grand. The fat of the entire coven hung in the balance, and yet all Julie could focus on was the way that Vivian’s blubber belly hung like a loose apron of fat over the waistband of her pants, and how much she wanted to make the greedy gut sag all the way down to Vivian’s fat knees. Julie wanted to make Vivian so fat that she was dripping with folds of flesh, tree trunk thighs rolling with fat rolling over the knees to meet her belly. She wanted Vivian to look like an over inflated Michelin man.

Julie’s entire family could be brought low. Her powerful mother could somehow be struck down and left groveling in submission, and all Julie could focus on was her intense hatred of Vivian and her desire to turn her into a pathetic, submissive pig. She pictured forcing Vivian onto all fours with her fat stomach hanging so low that it pressed against the floor. She wanted to see Vivian’s entire massively obese body quiver as she stood over her, fat flesh quaking in fear.

It was a singular focus, and it was a good thing that Julie was able to hold onto it because she almost wretched as she arrived at her destination. Her stomach was doing flips, and the whole world felt like it was spinning. Julie stumbled on her unsteady feet and nearly took a tumble into a nearby bush before she caught her balance. Each step was like walking on a slanted funhouse floor.

She looked down at herself in an attempt to gather her bearings and found that while still heavy she was thinner than she had been in years, seven years to be precise. So she knew she was in the right time.

Now all Julie had to do was get to the right place.

That was easier said than done, but she took off one step at a time in the direction that she knew Vivian would be.

Her legs were wobbly, not just because of the fat but because of the feeling that she had pushed herself one shift too far. She felt like she was moving through sludge while carrying big heavy sandbags. And her head was already beginning to throb. Too many new memories, too many old memories, and far too many possible memories all waiting to rip her mind apart if she stayed here for too long. With time of the essence, and the trees already doubling in her vision, she kept going putting one fat foot in front of the other as she trudged toward the great oak tree.

And there she was, Vivian, hidden about fifty yards behind the oak with a conniving grin on her face, eager to play her role and doom Julie’s family.

She could hear it off in the distance, the sounds of charms and counter charms clashing together, the back and forth battle of arcane blasts as Julie’s aunt Cass and Vivian’s sister Elizabeth raced toward the finish line of their contest with her Aunt Cass in the lead as she neared the great oak tree.

Vivian drew her wand ready to manipulate the roots of the oak tree just enough to trip Cass and cost her everything.

And then the branch hit her.

Vivian whipped around to see Julie with her own wand drawn, and before she could even do anything, the ivy that covered the tree she had hidden behind lashed around her, and the branch came down and covered up her mouth to stop her from screaming.

But Julie could still see the surprise within Vivian’s eyes.

And the fear.

Julie grinned like a shark as she twisted up the tree root and called on it to pull Vivian’s wand out of her hand. She watched as her Aunt Cass rounded the corner of the great oak tree and headed toward the finish line home free. 

It was all over. Julie had accomplished what she’d come here for, and she felt the tug of time pulling her back.

But she still had some unfinished business.

“I know you don’t know this yet, but you’ve lost. You’ve lost far more than just this moment.”

Julie was slow and deliberate as she moved toward the bound and helpless Vivian, lifting up her shirt to tickle Vivian’s abs.

“You really are quite the sight. So gorgeous. I get why you’re so confident, so vain. It’s almost a shame that I’ve just ruined it all for you.”

Julie leaned down and pressed her lips against Vivian’s abs.

“Just a little kiss goodbye for you.”

Vivian’s eyes were darting, looking for help, looking for a way out. Her wild eyed disbelief that this fat girl, Julie of all people could have bested her was impossible to believe, and yet here she was helpless to do anything.

“Do you want to know what happens now? You’re going to get fat. You’re going to get really fat. This hot body that you have, that’s so precious to you. It’s going to blow up like a balloon. You’re going to turn into the kind of obese hog that you’ve always made fun of. You think I’m fat right now? It’s nothing compared to the butterball that you’re going to be.”

Julie began to tickle Vivian’s trim stomach.

“These abs? They’re going to turn into a big blubbery belly,a huge spare tire of rich sagging fat. Your perfect, perky ass? It’s going to get filled with pants splitting lard. You think I’m a fat ass? You’re gonna be a double wide. Your broken down trailer ass is going to be paired with a pair of tremendous thunder thighs that will have you waddling instead of strutting around like you own the place. And your breasts, you’re going to need a real heavy duty over the shoulder boulder holder to hoist your massive mammaries. Get ready to have a lot of pain in your fat back.”

She stroked Vivian’s delicate chin.

“Your pretty face is going to be no more. It’s going to be a bloated mess with jiggly jowls and a doughy double chin. You’re going to look like a real pig.”

With a simple flick of her wrist, Julie conjured up a doughnut and slowly brought it to Vivian’s lips.

“And when the weight piles on, I want you to know that every pound of it is because of me. Don’t you dare try to blame anybody or anything else. I want you to remember that I’m the one that beat you. I’m the one that made you fat. Enjoy your years of pigging out and porking up.”

The branch moved, and Vivian went to scream only to find herself taking a big bite of chocolate frosted doughnut. 

“It didn’t have to be like this, you know. I offered you a way out, but you wanted to destroy me, destroy my family. So now you reap what you fucking sow you soon to be fat bitch!”

Julie shoved the rest of the doughnut into Vivian’s mouth and let the tug of time pull her back to the present.

Back at the present Julie was not thin, but she was lighter, and she was curvy. As she looked at herself she could feel just how in shape she was. She had an oversized hourglass, still with a very generous belly that pressed against the skintight black dress that she was wearing. She had thick thighs that still carried a large amount of fat but were also built up with muscle. Every part of her felt lighter but stronger, and her heart soared with confidence. It was a wave of euphoria that she was riding, and it rose even higher as she looked over at the ball of blubber that Vivian had become.

Vivian was clad in a sweatsuit that she was bursting out of. The zipper of her sweat jacket had clearly been broken by her blubber and left the jacket with no choice but to be wide open serving more as ornamentation than anything else. The food stained tank top underneath rode up exposing the entire lower half of her double belly.

That glorious, gluttonous gut was far beyond blubbery, it was an apron of fat that hung as far out over the waistband of her overtaxed sweatpants as gravity would allow before melting downward like bubblegum left out in the sun, spilled over the waistband and reached down trying desperately to get to her fat knees. That desperate desire to get as low as possible had produced an array of bright red stretch marks atop a pattern of smaller older silver ones marking how much Vivian’s expansive stomach has expanded over time. Vivian’s gut was heavy yet pillowy enough to jiggle at the slightest movement, and Vivian was full of panicked movement as she pawed at it in disbelief which of course meant that it jiggled like mad jello along with the rest of her extremely obese body.

Julie noted with glee that judging by the perceived girth of Vivian’s heavy gut, that it was fatter than her own roly-poly belly ever was. She laughed as Vivian shook her fat in a mix of unhinged anger, horror and despair. The wails of the whale that Vivian had become landed like beautiful music notes on Julie’s ears as she watched her baby beluga blubber while holding her blubbery belly. Chubby fingers dug into spongy flesh desperately trying to tear it off or push it back in or squeeze it hard enough to apply the heat and pressure needed to magically turn it into diamond hard abs. But there would be no further transformation save for adding more merciless pounds of pudge coming once the contest was officially over. Any hope of ever having a trim waist again was impossible, there wasn’t a star bright enough to wish upon.

To only look at the massiveness of the front of her belly was to do a disservice to her sides, those hefty flanks hung like meat in a butcher’s window completing a mighty muffin top. The sides of her sweat jacket were pushed outward and up by the big sweaty love handles that wrapped around her body until they formed a roll of back fat so thick that it also rolled over her waistband just like her belly. In fact, Vivian’s body was so fat that if you dressed her in the right outfit with her lower roll of blubber and her back boobs, and took a picture of her from between the neck and her titanic ass, you could be fooled into thinking you were looking at a fat girl from the front.

That ass, once Vivian’s prized possession was porky as hell. To call her ass two hams fighting would be unfair to hams. They were far larger, each one like a mini-bean bag chair cushioned with fat and covered with cellulite. Just like her jacket could not contain all of her belly blubber, her sweatpants could not contain all that cheek. Those chunky cheeks bloomed over the top like doughy popovers rising in the oven. The broken down junk in her trunk was spilling out the top and threatening to rip free everywhere else. It was very clear that her ass, once tight and now titanic, had left the seat of her pants well worn by the wide load they were forced to bear. And with every panicked stumbling step that Vivian took those butt cheek bounced to and swaying and straining the fabric further.

Julie couldn’t get enough of how wide and full of lard Vivian’s big butt was. She thought back to all the times Vivian had called her a pathetic fat ass, and now here she was, just like with her belly, she had an enormous ass larger than Julie’s used to be and doomed to get bigger. She was the pathetic fat ass now, a plump pathetic pig. She loved to watch Vivian stagger around with those chunky cheeks bobbing up and slapping down.

And when those cheeks slapped down they slapped onto tree trunk sized thunder thighs. Each one was twice the size of what Vivian’s waist used to be, they were huge quivering tubes of flesh that pressed together and pressed outward. Julie could see how badly Vivian’s saddlebags strained the seams of her sweats. Even as Vivian staggered about her thighs were so big that they made her swing her entire body from side to side like a big fat penguin. 

Julie laughed out loud at the sight of Vivian’s useless waddling thinking back to all the times she remembered Vivian strutting forward ready to torment her. Now Vivian was the tormented one with thunder thighs that culminated in swollen cankles and fat feet. Vivian could have been a model and one point, and now with that waddle she was nothing more than a clumsy fatty. She was a glorious mess whose fat body thanks to the combination of her bulbous butt, thick thighs, ballooned out belly and wide hips she was now round enough to be the kind of person who constantly bumped into things, knocking things over and having to apologize for her massive body over and over again. Julie knew that humiliation well, and it was Vivian’s life now.

Back up top, Vivian’s chest had ballooned as well. Her boobs were over inflated cushions of fat that surged forward and hung down similar to her blubber belly, and just like her belly, her massive mams were also covered in stretch marks. They were so big that they were practically bursting out of her bra and could be clearly seen stretching out the top of the tank top she was wearing and giving her an absolute canyon of cleavage. Unlike Vivian’s massive belly, her breasts which would normally be quite impressive were dwarfed by the big belly they were resting on it like massive globes on a broken shelf.

Just like Julie had promised, Vivian’s face was now a bloated mess. It was somehow even fatter and rounder than the last time Julie had seen her here on the contest ground. Her cheeks had grown chubbier with jowls that made her frightened eyes look even smaller. Those eyes were wide with panic and still looked beady because of her fat cheeks. As Vivian looked around her like a frightened animal stuck in a cage, her multiple chins wobbled.

Even Vivian’s arms had gotten extra fat, those flabby bingo wings were taxing the sleeves of the sweat jacket. A lot of her fat wrists was exposed not because that was the cut of the jacket but because her fat arms were forcing the sleeves up as they strained the seams. The fat of her billowy arms encased in the overtaxed fabric of the jacket made her arms look like big throw pillows. 

Julie remembered how toned and strong looking Vivian’s arms used to be, thin and wiry with muscle, and it thrilled her to no end to see that she had reduced Vivian to an obese weakling with fat arms that ended in chubby hands with sausage fingers weakly gripping her wand.

And with no magical shield still around her.

Julie raised her wand, and Vivian turned just in time to look her dead in the eye.

“Please, don’t,” she mouthed with her trembling lips just barely parting.

But Julie was already firing her blast.

Vivian made one last attempt to raise her fat arm for a counter charm, blowing a seam in her sleeve and letting her bingo wing flap.

The arcane bolt hit Vivian’s chubby hand and set the wand flying.

Vivian watched impotently as the wand spun end over end and then landed with its point sticking into the dirt. She fell to her fat knees with her entire body quaking and her flabby belly spilling into her lap.

She was done.

The crowd greeted her downfall with thunderous applause as they stood to cheer Julie’s astounding victory.

A breathless Julie looked up at the rest of her coven. She was soaking it all in. This was her moment, the moment that for so long she thought she would never have, and everyone was here to share this moment as she reveled in her triumph. She could see them all, everyone clapping that wasn’t one of Vivian’s or her mother’s cronies. This included the waifish blonde who worked for Mrs. Aguilar- who had one hand on her stomach looked like she was struggling to hold down her last meal, and Yakov Bok, the dark haired man Julie had seen going into her mother’s office and who was now standing next to Mrs. Gulch who was so busy eating a cappuccino muffin that she looked dead to the world around her.

Vivian’s mother Annabelle was blanched like a sheet and practically falling out of her seat as the rest of the coven’s council rose to their feet. 

Julie made eye contact with her normally stone and stoic mother who was slowly clapping with the smallest hint of a smirk emerging in the corner of her mouth. She was flanked on left by Julie’s Aunt Calpurnia, the booze expunged from her body which was now tight and tanned as ever. She was hooting and hollering louder than anyone else in between turning and laughing at the mostly fainted Annabelle Blake.

And on her right hand, in all her glory, was Julie’s Aunt Cassandra.

Julie and her looked at each other with tears running down their cherubic cheeks.

Then Julie felt something, and she couldn’t tell if it was the ground shaking or just the fluttering of her heart.

She looked over at the defeated Vivian ready for what would come next.

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 30

Sorry this is late, work got busier than expected. But here it is.

Enjoy!

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“The Fat Making Notebook Goes Shopping”

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Asami almost didn’t bring the notebook with her to the grocery store. She certainly didn’t expect to need it. But as she started to leave her apartment, she couldn’t help but feel a nagging sensation that it would be bad to leave the notebook behind. What if someone broke into the apartment? (Even though she was living in a fourth floor walk up and her door was double bolted and it was also the middle of the day.) The notebook might get stolen. (Even though it was safely locked away in her desk drawer in the same cheesy secret compartment she used to keep her diary in.) So as she hesitated at the door for a moment longer than she could measure, Asami eventually turned around and went back to grab the notebook.

It was better to be safe and sorry, and there was no harm to come from carrying the notebook around.

At least not to her.

So Asami clenched the book in her hands and found that as she headed off to the grocery store, her mind was no longer just on what she would buy to feed herself, but who she would transform while she was there. It seemed to her that the inside of the grocery store would supply an infinite amount of creative ideas. What a perfectly simple place to take the notebook. Plenty of rude Karen’s at the local grocery store. Plenty of people who come back regularly. It was the perfect place to go and find new people- rude people- definitely rude awful people- to punish and a delightful place to check in on them from time to time. Yes. It was definitely the perfect pla-

That’s what Asami was thinking about before her thoughts were rudely interrupted by the jarring sensation of being suddenly run into, not just randomly bumping into someone, but being actively shoulder and nearly sent to the floor. 

“Watch where you’re going, fat ass!”

They were two slim friends who were laughing at her having shoved her right as she was getting to the door of the store, and Asami had to admit that she was getting tired of that particular trope in her life and of people quoting that damn Mean Girls line at her.

That’s when she realized she no longer had the notebook!

In a panic she looked down to see that, fortunately, it had just fallen to the ground right next to her and gone no farther. She snatched it back up and stormed into the grocery store, determined to make the woman who nearly cost her the notebook pay.

There were two women, friends, annoying chatty, catty friends, slim and sexy stereotypes still clearly laughing about what a fine trick they had just played. One, a blonde, was taller and more muscular than her much more petite red headed friend. Based on her musculature, Asami assumed that the blonde Karen was the one to shove into her and took joy in steering her away from the vegetable aisle.

“The blonde who bumped into me will no longer eat salads or enjoy healthy food. She’s become a real junk food junkie, and she’s going to go find a bag of marshmallows to eat right now. As she eats them, her ass is going to grow until it’s so fat that it splits her pants.”

“Then we’ll see who gets to laugh,” thought Asami as she watched the blonde suddenly steer her cart away from the vegetables and toward the snacks.

The red head, who was too distracted choosing between a cut bag of spinach and kale or a bag of spring mix, suddenly turned to see her friend headed elsewhere.

“Sharon, where are you going?” she called out.

Asami chuckled to herself seeing how close she was with mentally naming the woman Karen and then ducked into the snack aisle to watch Sharon’s transformation.

Sharon couldn’t believe the incredible craving for sweets that she had, and for salty things, for things rich and fat that she had spent so many years denying herself. It was like she couldn’t say no any longer. She suddenly wanted cookies, and cake, and potato chips and ice cream and… marshmallows. She wanted marshmallows. She NEEDED marshmallows.

She found the bag and couldn’t wait to even get it to the checkout counter. Like a wild animal, she tore into the bag right there and began stuffing the sweet treats into her mouth, chewing as fast as she could.

Asami was excited to see the body of a woman who could have modeled for Playboy become a chubby bunny indeed.

As Sharon began to eat the marshmallows, her body began to change. Her muscles all softened slightly, but by far the biggest change came to the swelling of her ass. It was subtle at first, just a little bit of extra plumpness, but then as she got to the fourth and fifth marshmallow that she was cramming into her cheeks, her ass cheeks which were already getting chunky really started to balloon. The fat filled them like water balloons, first expanding outward and then sagging downward. The plump mounds of plush flesh would have sagged even further if they were not struggling against the confines of her tight pants.

To aid in the battle against the pants, Sharon’s hips and thighs began to widen too. Her entire lower half grew thicker and into an exaggerated pear shape as she pushed more delicious marshmallows into her greedy mouth.

The marshmallows kept coming, and so did the pounds, and as her pants got tighter and near bursting, that’s when he red headed friend came turning down the aisle in shock at what she was seeing.

Sharon ignored her though and kept eating. With the bag almost finished, she realized she had dropped one of the marshmallows and reached down to pick it up.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPP!!!!

That’s when the pants gave way, and yet Sharon instinctively shoved the last marshmallow into her mouth before shooting up and using her hands to try and cover her now exposed chubby cheeks. Her friend couldn’t help but be a catty bitch.

“Wow, Sharon. I catch you sneaking snacks and look at what happens. I can’t believe I never realized you had put on so many pounds. You’ve really gained weight, girl.”

“Shut up, Terri,” Sharon muttered with her mouth full of marshmallow.

Terri walked up and poked Sharon in her tummy which had grown just enough to pop the button on her pants but was a far cry from her swollen ass cheeks.

“Face it, piglet. You’ve gotta go and buy yourself some fat pants.”

Sharon turned away and started to storm out of the store as quickly as her fat ass and torn pants would allow. She dropped the empty bag of the marshmallows to the floor with no intention of paying for it, another thing that Asami took as a sign that Sharon was worthy of punishment.

Asami figured that Terri shouldn’t get off scott free either and once again opened her notebook.

“Terri is extra catty to Sharon to distract from her own recent weight gain. She had also become a junk food junkie who has recently gained a little pot belly and a real bloated face. She’s going to be an obese slob within the year.”

“Hey, wait for me, piglet!” Terri called after Sharon.

As Terri walked past her, Asami could see the changes to the red head’s figure. Her shirt was now noticeably tighter, stretched by a belly that he replaced her abs and forced the shirt up just enough to expose a delicious sliver of flabby flesh. Her previous angelic face was now round and distinctly bloated looking, a clear sign of her new junkfood addiction. It was already starting to look a little greasy and had the start of a nice doughy double chin. 

Asami looked forward to seeing the women again as she was certain they would now be addicted to the junk food here at the store, and she was eager to see how they would change.

But for now, Asami had to look away from her former victims and look down not at the notebook but at her shopping list. After all, she had her own errand to run.

And as she looked up to survey the store for what she needed, she knew she would find a fresh crop of victims as well.

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“Priya was Pretty”

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Priya was pretty. She was everything she knew a woman was supposed to be. She had a slim waist with a fat stomach that widened slightly into curvy but still slender hips. She had a pert butt which was tight and toned and in the shape of a heart. Her breasts were modest but perky and large enough that she certainly couldn’t complain about them. And the rest of her body was muscular but trim with her legs being especially long and glorious. Her long lean limbs gave her a model’s strut and were paired nicely with the toned arms that ended in delicate hands. Her face was angelic as well with a perfect button nose and sharp cheekbones and chin. She was very pretty indeed.

And Priya knew she was pretty. Everyone always reminded her of that. People practically fell over themselves to give her compliments. Sometimes Priya let that go to her head, and it made her kind of arrogant and vain. Sometimes that vanity led her to belittle others whom society had had deemed far less pretty.

Priya’s prettiness opened many doors for her and made her life seem so easy to the point of being sometimes so boring. She didn’t even have to do anything to maintain her prettiness which many people noted was rather unfair, but this just caused Priya to laugh, and even Priya’s laugh was pretty.

This easy road of prettiness was one that Priya would strut down all throughout her years of schooling, she was head cheerleader and prom and homecoming queen, she was the president of the student union in college and president of of sorority. She even quickly rose through the ranks of the marketing firm that she had gotten a job at right out of college and did some modeling on the side. There was no freshman fifteen for Priya, no sophomore slump. Even when she got into “the real world” she never gained any weight. She was always perfect and pretty.

Then Priya turned thirty.

And then the pounds started to pile on.

They were just a few at first, just a pit of pudge to pork up Priya’s previously trim waist and turn into a pot belly. Priya’s prettiness had always turned heads and often inspired jealousy. Once she started to plump up, those heads turned toward each newly perceived flaw, and those who were jealous now had eyes filled with delight and fingers that liked to poke Priya’s new pudge. There hands were also eager now to ply Priya with pleasant treats to plump her up further. Pretty Priya saw many pastries pushed past her pouty lips.

Pastries lead to pounds, a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips. And as such Priya’s modest hips grew much wider, and her pert bum began to sag. As her thighs grew noticeably thicker, and her arms grew softer, and once she developed a definite muffin top with a spongy stomach and love handles that poked over the sides of many of her pretty outfits, plenty of people told Priya- in a not so polite fashion- to cut back on the snacking. 

But Priya persisted. 

Plentiful pastries weren’t the only thing that popped into her mouth. Priya also loved popcorn and potato chips, and for breakfast she frequently ate waffles or pancakes smothered in butter and syrup and served with a properly large side of bacon. Lunch and dinner were equally large and indulgent meals, rich in variety and calories. And there was always plenty to snack on in between. 

So the pounds persisted as well, and fat continuing to pack onto Priya’s previously petite frame. It wasn’t long until people started talking about how the pretty Priya had gone from pleasantly plump to being a proper fatty. 

Priya’s plush pot belly became a sizeable gut, a symbol of her newfound gluttony that seemed to grow with every pound that found its way onto her body. It wasn’t just that Priya wasn’t trying to lose weight. She seemed to be eating more and more while growing progressively lazier and therefore plumper. The pounds that once settled slow began to come much more rapidly and Priya’s body grew much more round as a result.  

Her round rump grew bigger and with a lot more bounce to it as she stepped, but the rhythm was wild an inconsistent as her fat ass cheeks just wobbled in all directions, the soft cellulite covered fat struggled to be crammed into any kinds of pants, and dresses would inevitably cling to those chunky cheeks like a second skin and ride upward to reveal more of her equally chunky and equally cellulite covered thunder thighs, thick tubes of fatty flesh whose close proximity became closer as they pressed together more and began to take much more effort to separate them again.

The consistent growth of her thunder thighs paired with the largening of her lumpy ass and the widening of her hips meant that Priya’s confident strut was taken away from her, and she was reduced to a slow and ponderous waddle. This came to the joy of many a previously jealous person who now enjoyed savoring the schadenfreude and were often heard to comment that Priya would no longer need her model strut because she had become far too fat to even be considered a plus-sized model.

But Priya, if she heard those petty comments, paid them no mind. Instead, she put them out of her head and put more junk food in her mouth.

It was a kind of awakening for Priya who had spent so much of her life trying to be what everyone else told her was perfect. She had spent so long being prim and proper and pretty that it felt good to just let go, to not feel beholden to the expectations of others and to just indulge in the things that she wanted and the results that came with it.

Many people continued to comment behind Priya’s back, and some to her face. Those who previously felt jealous now felt joy, presumably at Priya’s expense. And those who felt pity for her treated Priya like turning thirty had been some kind of curse. But for Priya it felt like she was finally truly coming into her own, blossoming into her own person spiritually and emotionally as her body continued to bloom with fat. The weight kept coming, but the worries melted away with her muscles.

Porky Priya did as she pleased. And what she wanted to do more than anything else was eat. Just developed a big spare tire and marvelous pendulous breasts along thighs becoming thick as tree trunks and her arms growing as fat as hams. She had a big round face with a thick neck obscured by her multiple chins. Priya the Porker as the rude ones called her grew to be a big fat ball of blubber, and when she looked in the mirror she took longer than she ever did to admire herself because she knew the truth.

Priya was gorgeous.

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“Surprising Pounds Abound”

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Brittany Muehller was a stuck up snob, a privileged sorority girl fresh out of college and set to make a life for herself on her own with the help of daddy’s money. She had her rent for her first year out of college already paid for, and she had access to her father’s credit card for everything else, so Brittany wasn’t exactly in a rush to get a job. She was ready to keep her party life going all in the excuse of taking the time to really “find herself”.

“She’ll find herself getting very fat.”

“And we’re here to take care of that.”

Hey, wait a minute. What are you guys doing here?

“We got tired of that notebook getting all the glory.”

“So now this is a surprise Munchies story.”

Oh, come on guys, look. I have you marked down right here, see? You’re in my notes: “Fat Trimmings: Volume 32, do more sequel stories. Include Munchies and….

“That notebook again, yuck.”

“So we’re taking over this story, you talentless-”

Hey. Hey. Hey. Okay. You want to do the story? Fine. It’s all yours. Do the verse thing.

“Brittany loved to party all night and day,

Something that would affect how much she weighed.

All the booze and drugs made her mind hazy,

And that fog made her more lazy.”

“She would lounge around all day and snack

Eagerly eating while laying on her back

All that snacking began to make her quite plump,

Gaining weight in her belly, breasts, and rump.

At first those pounds seemed quite pleasant,

And that’s when we made ourselves present.”

The Munchies are tricky creatures with a knack for finding people at their weakest points. Often that’s in moments of depression, a lost job, a broken relationship, but in Brittany’s case, it was in a moment of vanity. When the first few pounds settled where they did, Brittany didn’t take this as a sign of a slipping metabolism and a warning of things to come. Instead, she took this as a sign that she was becoming even more gorgeous.

“Brittany thought she was just getting curvy.”

“So we stepped in to turn her world topsy turvy.”

“She loved being curvy, but we decided fat was better.

So we doubled down on what we fed her.

Cake and cookies, ice cream and chips,

Lots of junk food went past her lips.

And soon her pants were really stretched by her wider hips.”

“Her dresses got tighter, her pants wouldn’t fit,

And soon it looked like Brittany was ready to quit.

She wanted to get herself back on track with a diet,

And to really crush her hopes we let her try it.”

“Because we knew the way to make her fail,

Turn on to Thick Burger to turn her into a whale.”

Wait. Wait. Wait a minute. Thick Burger? You can’t turn this into a Thick Burger story, you’re Munchies. You don’t belong in that universe. You can’t just do whatever the hell you want; it’ll confuse people. Do you know how many readers I have that care about my continuity?

“Shove your continuity up your butt,

Your readers are just here for smut.”

“We like to fatten and like to tease,

So we Munchies go where we please.

And where we are is always Munchie time.

We can do what we want as long as we rhyme.”

“We’re the Munchies on the hunt,

So shut your trap you big dumb-”

Okay! Geeze. I’m late getting this out anyway, so yeah. This is a Thick Burger story now. Go hog wild.

“A lazy hog is just what Brittany would become.

Sitting on her blubbery buns

Becoming quite a chubby one

She would be quite obese by the time we were done.”

Anybody ever tell you, you have no consistency with your rhyme scheme or meter?

“Anybody ever tell you to shut the fuck up?”

“It’s called free verse, asshole.”

Alright. I’m sorry that I disrespected your verse, but there really is no need to curse. You want this story, then have your fun. I’m getting out of here. Goodbye. I’m done. 

“Brittany’s breasts blew up like balloons,

And over her pants her big belly loomed.

As she grew a muffin top

She would find it hard to stop

The burgers were something she could especially dig,

And that helped her turn into a pig.”

“She even had Thick Burger’s pies

To help add poundage to her thighs.

She ate even more when she smoked grass

Which contributed to her big fat ass.”

“Her friends all had laughs at her expense.

And their relationships soon grew tense.

They all found it very funny

When Brittany was caught off from daddy’s money.

He got tired of the lazy swine

Racking up such exorbitant food bills on his dime.”

“With the money gone, her “friends” went with it

Laughing at the pants that Brittany split

Now that her designer clothes no longer fit.

Once she had to get a real job

That’s when we really turned Brittany into a blob.”

“We sent her to Thick Burger to work and feast

And swell until morbidly obese

That’s where we left our once vain villain

Sweating and eating while she’s grilling.”

“She who once made fun of fat girls now where’s the other shoe.

And we’ll see you all in ‘Fat Trimmings’ Volume 32.”

"Fit Friend, Fat Friend": EXCLUSIVE EXTENDED CUT

Here it is, the extended cut of "Fit Friend, Fat Friend." At over 6,100 words long, it is over 3,300 words longer than the original, over double the length. For those following along, that means I added a lot more words today when I thought I was done last night, but hey sometimes inspiration strikes.

Honestly, I'm definitely going to use some stuff from this in other non-exclusive stories going forward because this one has stuff in it that I know would be a big draw, but it's staying right here just for you as promised (with a slob cut that I'll hopefully do by the end of the month.)

Anyway, I hope people will read and comment. It means a lot.

Enjoy!

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Layla was the fat friend of her group. She knew that. She had grown up just like that. Many people had gotten used to calling her Lard Ass Layla. It was an unfortunate but fitting nickname given the extremely large size of Layla’s blubbery posterior. Hers was an ass that was matched only by her big belly which was a sloppy spare tire that regularly sloshed from side to side as she waddled around, that waddling courtesy of the thick thunder thighs that she was sporting.

For years, Layla was the least popular girl in whatever school she was in. That is until she Samaira. Samaira was a queen, the complete opposite of Layla. She was always considered classically pretty. She was always well liked and popular, and the only thing that stopped her from being a stereotype was the fact that she was also rather nice. Sure, Layla was not immune to criticism from Samaira. And Samaira was full of microaggressions and passive aggressive (and sometimes aggressive aggressive) comments about Layla’s weight or appetite, but for the most part Samaira was Layla’s true best friend, and as such she became part of a friend group of plenty of other people who otherwise would have been very mean to her.

Still, Layla remembered the exact moment she wished things could be at least a little different, a little better.

It was the end of their summer right before the beginning of college, and Sam was throwing one last rager before everyone went their separate ways. Though Layla was going to college with at least one member of their friend group, Jenny, whom Samaira had actually convinced to room with Layla after quite a bit of prodding, Samaira was headed elsewhere, destined to pursue her dreams while networking with a whole new set of people. Everyone knew she would keep in touch and that their close bonds would last forever, but the fact that this was the first time in years that their friend group was going to be going its separate ways added a weight of melancholy to the party.

That meant it had to be the biggest party of all time with all the coolest people.

And that made Layla feel like her fat ass stuck out like a sore thumb. There was a lot of talking at the party, but so much of it seemed to be around her and not at her. People weren’t always mean to her face, but she caught the occasional side comment as she ate BBQ while standing around in a one piece that had definitely fit her better.

“Layla, honey. Maybe you don’t need another helping of potato salad. And chill out with eating so many spare ribs. Eating all that pork is going to pork you up even more,” teased Samaira as she eyed Layla up and down.

Layla just snorted in defiance.

“Shut up. I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry. That’s why you’re so hefty.” teased Samaira as she reached out and squeezed Layla’s belly, giving it a big shake.

Layla pulled herself away, sending her fat body jiggling.

“They’re so good though. And I don’t want to be rude.”

“So you’d rather be fat?” accused Samaira with a hard poke to the stomach and a smack to the butt.

“I mean, let’s face it. You’ve gotten pretty fat, right?”

Sam gave Layla’s butt a big squeeze and felt the fat ooze through her fingers.

“Pretty porky?”

Samaira threw a condescending arm around Layla’s fat shoulders and pulled her close.

“I’m just looking out for what’s best for you, for your health, and the way people treat you. You’d be so pretty if you lost weight.”

“Th… thanks?”

Sam then lowered her arm around Layla’s fat back and squeezed her love handle.

“You’re welcome. And hey, just think, if you eat right and work out, you can be just like me.”

Layla couldn’t picture herself being like Samaira at all. For Samaira, it was all just so effortless for her. When she wanted attention, she got it. She turned heads just by walking past. She never had to wait to say what she wanted to say. She always got her way. This was her world. She was the undisputed queen.

Layla wanted that. She wanted at least a piece of it. She would settle for just feeling like she fit in. 

Her daydreaming was interrupted by Sam taking one step over the line with a parting shot.

“And then nobody would call you Lard Ass Layla,” Sam said with a squeeze of Layla’s ponderous posterior.

It was the ultimate betrayal, the straw that broke the fat camel’s back. So from that moment on Layla made a vow then to change herself, not like super drastically or dangerously, but she was going to take charge of her life, and, with a renewed sense of control and vigor, she would shape herself into exactly what she wanted to be and no longer settle for being the fat friend on the fringe of the popular group.

At the end of the party she hugged Samaira goodbye, and as she did, she felt Sam’s toned body. A wicked little notion popped into her head. She couldn’t help but wish that her and Sam could switch places, that Samaira’s life wouldn’t be so effortlessly perfect and that she would get to experience the struggles of being the fat friend. She pictured Samaira struggling with her weight, popping buttons and splitting pants as she struggled to fit into her jeans. Layla wanted to wrap her arms around Samaira and feel the softness of Sam’s plush belly and thick love handles. She wanted them to switch places completely.

And little did she know that overtime and in its own way her wish would come true.

By the time Thanksgiving rolled around and the whole crew got back together for a Friendsgiving celebration of their own, there were winds of change in the crisp Autumn air. Layla was proud of some early college weight loss. While others may have given in to the freshman fifteen, Layla had stuck to her summer promise and taken control of her habits. It turns out that Jenny was a big help in that regard. The two had grown very close living together that first trimester, and she served as a model and a personal trainer which really helped Layla stay on track with her goals.

Meanwhile, Samaira had clearly taken to partying. Layla couldn’t help but notice the way that Sam filled out her sweater in a new way. And she didn’t mean with her breasts. Sam had definitely grown the start of a noticeable beer belly. It wasn’t huge by any means, and nobody would even call her chubby. It was just that since Sam had been so slim any amount of weight gain was noticeable especially to Layla who couldn’t help but be looking for it. She was especially gleeful when she noted that Samaira took seconds and Friendsgiving and still had room for dessert featuring two slices of pie and a handful of cookies. She chuckled to herself as she caught the side eye that a few friends were giving Samaira over her display of gluttony. 

At one point, Layla found herself in the kitchen listening in on a conversation between two of her other friends, Sasha and Bianca.

“Can you believe how much weight Samaira’s put on?”

“It’s not that much… but yeah. It’s noticeable.”

“It’s not that much now, but you saw how she ate.”

“How she’s eating. I think she’s still working on like her third slice of pie.”

“She better be careful or she’s going to end up looking real hefty.”

“Fat Sam? I can’t picture it.”

“Well I didn’t think I’d see her with a beer belly and eating like a pig, but here we are.”

“It sure would be funny.”

“Hilarious.”

“I hope it happens.”

“Oh, you’re so bad.”

“Come on. You want it too. Admit it.”

“Yeah. I’d love it.”

“Love what? Say it.”

“I’d love Samaira to get fat. I want Samaira to get fat. Really fat.”

“Fat Sam- Sam the Ham!”

“Oink. Oink. Oink.”

Layla clutched her chest as she heard the tittering laughter of two catty friends fade off into the distance. She thought about saying something. She should have said something. She should have stood up for her friend, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Why? The truth was that she wanted that as well. She pictured Samaira not just with a little beer belly, but with a big spare tire spilling out in front of her. She imagined Samaira waddling about with thick thunder thighs and a big fat shelf of an ass knocking things over as she squeezed herself into the kitchen to get herself more food to feast on. She pictured those ass cheeks spilling out from their sweatpants as Samaira hunched over grabbing packages of deli meat, dipping it in mayo and stuffing her fat face with it. Layla could picture Sam the Ham with bologna crammed into her chubby cheeks and mayonnaise dribbling down her double chin and splattering on her sloppy stretch marked cleavage.

Layla struggled to catch her breath but managed to pull herself back together and head back toward the party. As she was exiting the kitchen she ran into a rather tipsy Jenny.

“Heeeeeey roomie,” Jenny slurred as she hung onto Layla’s shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Y….you know… you really her looking goooooood.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Maybe you could give Samaira a few tips on maintaining a diet. She’s getting chunky.”

“She’s not that-”

“Reeeeeealy porking up.”

“It’s just a little-”

“She’s gonna get sooooooo fat.”

Layla couldn’t help but smile and pat the sweet drunk Jenny on the the 

Samaira seemed obvious to all of this and even to her own weight gain, and Layla hoped that she would remain so for as long as possible to maximize her gains.

And Sam did remain oblivious for quite a while.

But then summer came.

It wasn’t that Samaira was fat per se. It was just that… well she wasn’t exactly thin either. She was packing quite a few party pounds, especially around the middle. And people didn’t quite know what to say about the now borderline chubby queen bee. This worked out well for Layla because in an effort to avoid talking about how much weight Samaira had gained, they instead doubled down on their talk about how much weight Layla had lost.

Layla had a spectacular Freshman year at college. Not only had she excelled academically, but she had lost an impressive amount of weight, and, while she was still far heavier than Samaira, she couldn’t help but smirk at the direction things were heading in.

It seemed that Sam had picked up some nervous eating habits, and, as she stood around in a bikini that fit her much better the year before with her chunky ass cheeks and freshman beer belly on full display, her nervousness led her to eat a lot which in turn led to a lot more whispering behind Samaira’s back. Layla was certain that Sam had to have heard at least some of this. She had to have known what a spectacle she had turned herself into after gaining a good deal more than the freshman fifteen and going from a hottie with a hard body to a bloated party girl struggling to fit into her bikini while still openly stuffing her face with barbecue. 

How delightfully embarrassing for her.

Layla couldn’t help but revel in the feeling of humiliation that Samaira must have been experiencing. Sam had never had to put up with being embarrassed for a moment in her entire life. She never knew what it felt like, and to know that Sam was now learning the hard way what it was like to not have an absolutely perfect life was thrilling.

Layla also couldn’t help but notice that Samaira was the only one to not compliment her on her weight loss which just made Layla hope that Samaira would gain even more weight. As she gave Samaira a hug goodbye, she was sure to squeeze hard and drink in Samaira’s new softness.

She couldn’t help herself.

“You’ve gotten soft girl,” teased Layla as she poked Samaira’s belly.

“I-I.. w-what?”

Layla had never seen Samaira as anything less than completely confident, and she needed to take advantage of it.

“No more abs, Sam. You’ve gained some weight. Look at this chunk,” chuckled Layla as she pinched Samaira’s love handle.

Samaira smacked Layla’s hand away.

“The freshman fifteen happens.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it would happen to you, Miss Perfect.”

And then Layla decided to push things a bit further.

“And it wasn’t just fifteen pounds was it? Come on. You can be honest with me. We’re friends. How much weight have you gained?”

There was a long pause before…

“Twenty-two.”

“Twenty-two!” Layla squealed.

“No wonder you’ve gotten this tanker,” she said as she shook Samaira’s pot belly, earning her hand another smack.

“Okay. Okay. I get it. I’m just saying. Be careful girl.”

And Layla took Samaira’s hand and pressed it against the softness of her own gut representing a possible future.

“You don’t want that little gut to become a big squishy belly like mine, do you? You don’t want to be a fatty like me.”

Samaira just turned her head away in shame, and Layla could see the hint of a double chin forming.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go!”

 Layla gave Samaira one more big hug to really feel her softness as she dreamed of more to come.

And sure enough that dream would come true.

It was a hard summer for Samaira. Her father’s business went belly up and Sam found herself in unfamiliar and unsteady financial waters. In order to help offset some of the massive college costs she was experiencing, Sam had to get a job at her local Thick Burger. Because she was new to the job she couldn’t afford to not take holiday shifts which meant that Layla didn’t get to see Sam again until the next summer.

Things can certainly change in a year.

By the time summer rolled around, Samaira’s body was a mess of fat rolls with the biggest being her blubbery belly that rolled over the waistband of her pants. Layla had gotten to spend some personal time really inspecting Samaira’s overflowing figure before their usual pool party get together because the two needed to each get new swimsuits, though they were buying them for radically different reasons.

It was Jenny who first pointed out how similar Samaira and Layla now looked, though in Layla’s case it was a clear compliment. As for Sam…

“But come on, Sam. You’re getting. I’m sorry. You’re getting really fat.”

“I’m not fat!” scoffed Samaira.

“Well no. You’re not fat, chubby, very chubby (kinda fat). But you’re getting really fat. Everyone can tell.”

From there people were off to the races. There was a fair bit of cognitive dissonance to sit through for Layla, listening people praise her for her own weight loss and compliment her on her own figure while chastising Samaira and offer words of concern and advice to her even though it was all agreed that she was weighing in at or around Layla’s current weight. (People had the decency to not pull out the scales though Layla was half hoping they would.)

And Layla couldn’t help but get herself in on the act when she saw Samaira eating and found the opportunity to be on the other side of a familiar conversation.

“Do you really need more potato salad, Sam? And maybe you should cut down on the pork ribs because they’re making you pretty porky.”

“Shut up. I’m hungry.”

And that’s exactly what Layla was waiting for.

“You look like you’re always hungry, and that’s why you’ve gotten so hefty.”

What was different about the two women, even though they were both approximately the same in weight and height was the way in which they carried themselves. Layla carried herself with a new found air of confidence. She dressed herself as a woman who loved her curves and dressed for them. Samaira just looked like someone who had let themselves go. She had a vibe of someone who was traditionally hot and now that she wasn’t she didn’t know what to do with herself. Their weight may have been the same, but everyone could tell that the two were headed in different directions. Everything was positive when it came to Layla, and for all the chastising, words of concern and advice… well, everyone could just tell that things were going to get fatter for Samaira.

And they were right.

The rest of college went the same way as the first two years did. Layla’s weight continued to trend downward, and Samaira just continued her downward spiral. 

Nobody expected Samaira to end up obese. They all thought that surely she would pull herself together. They didn’t think she would ever be thin again. (And without saying it out loud many people certainly hoped that she would never be thin again.) But nobody could have expected Samaira to end up nearly as large as she got.

Layla, meanwhile, became every bit the hard body that Samaira used to be; she did develop curves that she could own, and her confidence was so high that she learned to instantly command a room. She became the kind of person people paid attention to, the woman who could turn heads.

Samaira turned heads too but it was mostly so people could gawk at her like they were rubbernecking a five car pileup. 

The most perfect example of these came during Layla and Samaira’s five year highschool reunion. Suddenly Layla was the bell of the ball, the talk of the town, the new queen that everyone naturally flocked too. The compliments abounded. The jealousy was real, and Layla loved to soak it all in. She was finally experiencing what she had longed for her entire life. She was finally where she always felt she should be.

Samaira showed up late. This was unfortunate for her because it made for a rather grand and notable entrance that she would have rather avoided. It was an entrance that was further delayed by the fact that people almost didn’t let her in at all when she was so thoroughly unrecognizable. But hey, that’s what nametags are for, so she wouldn’t be able to avoid lack of recognition later on. For Samaira, putting her nametag on felt like putting a ribbon on a prized pig for everyone to see. She immediately wanted to leave, but she had promised too many people in her friend group, Layla included, that she would be there and didn’t want to appear chicken. She would have preferred to just sneak around unnoticed, but at her size that was impossible.

Every head turned to see Samaira’s grand entrance as she came waddling into the auditorium.

The dress was a poor choice. It was a skintight ensemble that had clearly fit her much better several dozen pounds ago. It was overstressed and threatened to burst from all the fat that it was forced to contain. It hugged her like she was one big overstuffed sausage, misshapen from an array of bulges, and it left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Every fold was outlined. Every roll was clear. She looked even fatter than she was, and Samaira was morbidly obese.

Sam’s big blubbery belly took center stage wobbling about as a big sack of gelatinous fat, tugging at the fabric of her dress and forcing it to pull upward and reveal even more of her tree trunk like thunder thighs covered in cellulite. They wobbled and slapped together with each movement, and as she shuffled along her fat flabby ass was threatening to slide out the bottom of the dress and expose her cellulite covered ass cheeks as well as her enormous and yet undersized granny panties to the world. 

The gasps were audible as people began to realize who the tremendously fat woman was, the obese hog who had been homecoming and prom queen. 

Layla greeted Samaira with a broad grin on her face.

“Hey there, Sammy. Lookin’ pretty hammy.”

This elicited a round of giggles from their friend group who were all looking Samaira up and down, sizing her up- which at her size took quite a while.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” continued Layla.

“Now that our fat friend is here, we can really get the party started.

Samaira looked around at her friends and was amazed to see that out of all of the Layla was now clearly in the best shape. Everyone else had at least put on a little bit of weight, gotten a little out of shape, but none of them were nearly as fat and out of shape as Samaira who was getting sweaty just standing there, and Layla wasn’t going to let her forget it.

“What’s the matter? Miss Perfect doesn’t have anything to say now that she’s Miss Piggy. Come on. It’s just a joke. We’re all friends here.”

Samaira lumbered through the auditorium, and waddled past her friends and directly to the buffet. She couldn’t help herself. Even though Sam had secretly had a large meal at home with the specific intention of not needing to eat in front of people here, the reactions to her appearance peaked her anxiety and forced her toward her most comforting crutch.

Food.

Without a word to anyone else, Samaria loaded her plate with ziti and buffalo wings and breadsticks. She went to town on her feast as people watched her inhale what was on her plate and go back for a second, and then a third. It was during the third plate that people really got bold.

See, Samaira was usually a nice person in high school. But remember how she had a tendency to have passive aggressive comments about Layla? Well, she had that kind of bad habit about a lot of people. And many people tend to take passive aggressive comments rather personally, and when they hold on to those personal grudges for a long period of time, they tend to become rather aggressive in response.

“Look at that pig!” was the first comment Samaira heard that she realized was directly about her.

“Prom Queen to pig!”

“Homecoming queen to hog!”

“She can’t stop eating.”

“She looks like she hasn’t stopped eating for five years.”

“Sam the Ham!”

People grew even bolder. They began to come up to her and loudly express every personal gripe they had ever had; every mean thing Samaira had ever said was thrown back in her face. They unloaded on her with verbal barbs and physical pokes. Her fat was pinched, prodded and jiggled, and all Sam could do was offer some half hearted apologies mumbled through mouthfuls of pasta and then waddle over to the dessert table.

Standing there in front of the dessert table was a woman named Michelle. Michelle was someone that Layla remembered Samaira being unusually cruel to about her weight, and now here she was cake in hand and looking quite a bit slimmer (though not as in shape as Layla).

“Well, well, well, looks like the prom queen who used to make fun of me for my weight has really porked up. You’ve gotten real fat, huh fatty? The Sensational Samaira really did turn herself into Sam the Ham. Here, I got you a present,” said Michelle as she forcefully handed Samaira the cake.

“Have your cake and eat it too, piggy. You deserve it.”

Samaira wanted to turn it down, but she was still so hungry and the cake looked so good. Plus, eating the cake would be a good excuse to avoid conversation. So she started digging in, shoving forkful after forkful into her mouth in a speedy fashion only to be shocked to see that Michelle was already ready with a second slice. And as soon as Sam started digging into that one, Michelle resumed her taunting.

“You really need that second slice, Sam the Ham? You’ve already put on so many piggish pounds and sugar is addicting, as I’m sure you know. A moment on the lips, a lifetime on those wide ass hips of yours, aye piggy? Oink. Oink.”

As Samaira ate, too ashamed to respond or defend herself in any way, Michelle squeezed both her love handles.

“Remember how you used to squeeze me like this? Remember how you used to call me names and oink at me. Well who’s the fatso now, fatso? You’re the fatty. You’re the pig who can’t stop eating. Oink. Oink. Oink. You’re fatter than I ever was. Oink. Oink. Oink. So thanks for making my life by turning from a slim and sexy bitch into a gloriously obese hog. OINK. OINK. OINK.”

“Michelle I’m really sor-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Sam the Ham. It’s too late for you, fatty. You’ve made this mess and now you lay in it like the big fat pig that you are. Oink. Oink.”

And with that Michelle shoved a cupcake in Samaira’s mouth, a cupcake that Samaira was ashamed to admit she was far too eager and able to take.

Michelle wasn’t the only person to be directly mean to Samaira that night, not by a long shot, but she was certainly the most verbose.

Layla couldn’t help but feel a sense of schadenfreude as Samaira experienced in just a few minutes all that Layla had experienced for years. Sam was truly stuck now and forever feeling the embarrassment of being the fat friend, and the fact that she was so much fatter than Layla had ever been was icing on the cake.

Eventually, Layla had enough and decidedly to use her newfound popularity to protect her friend from any further embarrassment. She sent all the vultures away and put a comforting arm around Samaira’s fat shoulders offering her some quick diet advice as she led her to a table so that Samaira could continue to comfort herself by eating in peace.

“I mean, let’s face it. You’ve gotten pretty fat, right?”

Layla stretched her arm around Samaira’s fat back to squeeze her love handle.

“Pretty porky?” she asked with a smile.

Samaira was too busy stuffing her face to do anything other than snort in agreement.

“I’m just looking out for what’s best for you, for your health, and the way people treat you. You were so pretty and you could be so pretty again if you just lost weight. And hey, just think, if you eat right and work out, you can be just like me.”

Of course, Layla had no real desire to see that happen. And she still had another shot to take as she squeezed Samaira’s bloated butt.

“And then people won’t call you Sam the Ham. And won’t that be great?”

After that Layla did her best to keep her cool for the rest of the night, and keep people from making fun of Samaira so that Sam was free to keep fattening herself up in peace. Strangely, it was something of a comfort to Sam to have Layla there for her at all. Even if she had just dished out some pretty harsh words, it wasn’t nearly as bad as what people like Michelle had said and done.

At the end of the night, Samaira thanked her friend with a great big hug. Layla felt every ounce of softness, squeezed as hard as she could to drink in just how fat her friend had become and pressed her now much more toned body against Samaira’s flab so that Sam could see just how much had changed between them.

Even with all the squeezing, Layla was very pleased to know that she could not get her arms all the way around her big fat friend.

And then Layla had a wicked idea.

“Let’s go back to your place.”

“What?”

Layla grabbed Samaira by her fat hand.

“Yeah. Come on. We haven’t hung out in so long. Let’s go back to your place.”

“I don’t know,” Samaira protested.

But Layla wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She had come too far and Samaira had fallen too low to get to be the one making decisions anymore.

“Samaira, stop being a loser.”

The bluntness was so sudden and stunning that she found herself unable to put up more resistance.

“O…. okay.”

And then the two were off.

Samaira’s apartment was far smaller than Layla thought it would be, and that smallness was made worse by the incredible amount of clutter. There was dirty laundry thrown everywhere along with a variety of empty fast food containers and dirty dishes stacked up. Layla couldn’t be more amused.

“Wow this place is really a mess.”

“Y-yeah… I guess I let the place go a bit.”

“You let yourself go.”

“Yup.” Samaira just blatantly admitted. It wasn’t worth fighting.

But Layla wasn’t happy with such a limited response.

“Admit it.”

“I let myself go.”

“You got fat.”

“I got fat.”

“Obese.”

That was a bridge too far, and somewhere, underneath all that fat, Samaira found some bit of resistance left.

“Jeez, Layla.”

“Say it. Admit it.”

“I’m… I’m obese okay.”

Layla was happy, but she was not near done.

“Let’s see it.”

“What?”

“Strip. Let’s see how bad it is.”

Samaira blanched. 

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Come on.”

“I’m fat. Okay. I’m really really fat. I’m a big fat obese hog. Just let it go okay.”

“No. No. All the time you used to make fun of me. All the times you used to show off. You owe me. Strip, piggy! Strip!”

Samaira stared at her dominating friend and her fat body quivered for a moment and then really began to shake as she started to peel her dress off. Slowly more fat began to reveal itself as she pulled her flabby arms out of the dress and pushed it past her pillowy breasts.

When it finally got to Samaira’s bulbous belly, it was like biscuit dough exploding from the can. Her fleshy belly ballooned out in all directions now free of its confines and bounced in front, hanging so low that it covered most of her oversized and overtaxed granny panties, panties that were somehow still fraying from behind as the bottoms of her massive ass cheeks were fighting to be free. 

The dress struggled to get past her saddle bags and then eventually fully revealed her tree trunk thunder thighs. They wobbled just like the rest of her obese body, shaking and slapping together, earning that thunder thighs label. 

Layla couldn’t help herself and gave Samaira a hard slap to her fat ass as she stepped out of her dress.

“Damn you’ve got a real fat dumper there, Fatso.”

Sam suddenly shot back up, and her heavy gut jiggled like jello.

“What? That’s- don’t- that’s mean.”

“But it’s true. You’re a fatso with a fat dumper. Aren’t you?” Layla teased as she used both her hands to grab Samaira’s ass. Each cheek was too big to be held in a single hand, and Layla loved the way they each felt like a heavy, squishy pillow. Fat oozed through her fingers as she leaned forward and whispered in Samaira’s ear.

“I want to hear you say it.”

A shill shot up through Samaira’s spine as she felt compelled by Layla’s confidence and dominance and felt compelled to do as she was told. Her fat body was putty in Layla’s strong hands.

“I… I’m a fatso with a fat dumper.”

Layla slid her hands around and lifted up Sam’s tremendous apron of belly fat.

“And look at all this blubber. You used to have abs, didn’t you, Sam?”

“Yes.”

Layla gave the fat a hard enough squeeze to make Samaira wince.

“But not anymore, right fatty?”

Tears rolled down Samaira’s chubby cheeks as she could do nothing but admit the same truth.

“No. No more abs just my…”

“Just your what?”

“Just my blubber belly.”

Layla began to really shake Samaira’s belly which in turn caused the rest of Sam’s fat body to undulate.

“And what a blubber belly it is!” laughed Layla.

“But wait!” she exclaimed before leading Samaira into Sam’s messy bedroom to look in the full length mirror. 

Then Layla began to take over her own clothes and stood before Samaira in all of her glory.

“Look at my abs! They’re just like yours. You were the fit friend, and I was the fat friend. Now I’m the fit friend, and you’re the much fatter friend, far fatter than I ever was. Tell me, fatso. Do you think you’ll ever be thin again? Be honest.”

“N-n…. no.”

“Louder. I can’t hear you.”

“No! I’ll never be fit again. I can’t control myself. I’m a fatty, fatter than you ever were. I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are, sorry that you lost everything, sorry that you let yourself go, sorry that you turned yourself into a big fat pig.”

Layla took one of Samaira’s hands and pressed it to her sexy abs. Then she took the other hand and made Samaira squeeze her own squishy belly.

“I warned you. I told you, you were going to turn yourself into a fatty like me, a fatty like I was. Now I have everything you had and more, and you’re a big fat loser. You deserve it too. You deserve to be a big fat pathetic loser. You did this to yourself. You couldn’t control yourself. You pigged out and porked up. Every chance you had, every time you could have turned back, you turned to food. Didn’t you, Fatso?”

“I… I love food. I need food,” Samaira sheepishly admitted as her multiple chins wobbled in agreement.

“It’s such a comfort isn’t it? And now it’s all you have to comfort you, so it’s a fatter you will be. You deserve this. You were so vain, so mean. You took everything for granted, never appreciated any of it. You deserve to be the fat friend. Say it.”

 “I deserve this, all of this. I did this all to myself. I have nobody to blame for getting so fat, so obese by myself. I could have dieted. I could have exercised. I could have taken any of the advice that I found so easy to dole out when I was slim and sexy. But I couldn’t control myself. I pigged out and porked up. I ate and ate and ate. I couldn’t put the fork down, couldn’t put the food down. And I was so vain and mean. I was the fit friend who always deserved to be the fat friend. I was vain and now I’m the big fat humiliated fatso I deserve to be.”

“I think you deserve one more thing.”

“What?”

“Get on all fours.”

“Please,” Samaira begged as she sobbed in front of her “friend”.

“Do it.”

Samaira did as she was told and got down on all fours. Her blubber belly didn’t quite touch the floor, but Layla knew she would get her there with just a bit more time. Layla reached down and gave it another firm shake.

“Look at you, on all fours like the pig you’ve become. Who are you now?”

“I.. I don’t-”

“You know. You’ve heard them. Say it.”

“I’m Sam the Ham. Oink. Oink. Oink.”

“HA! I didn’t even ask you to do that, you’re just so good at being a submissive piggy. My submissive piggy. That’s what you want don’t you? You want to be my submissive piggy? No more worrying about your life, your choices. You’ll just do what I say, indulge, get fatter and lazier all for me. Just give up. Don’t you want that, Sam the Ham?”

Sam couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t bear it, any of it. The years had been too hard and left her too tired to deal with anymore.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes… I want to be your piggy.”

“Then oink again. Oink for me, piggy. Oink for me, Sam the Ham.”

“Oink. Oink. Oink.”

Layla gave Samaira another spank.

“Good, piggy. Now let’s go get you some more food. You’re going to get way fatter.”

Sam couldn’t help but shiver at the thought, but not out of fear but a strange arousal at how far she had fallen and how far she still had to fall. She dutifully followed her new master, crawling on all fours and oinking as they headed to the kitchen to stuff her with bologna with mayonnaise.

Layla was overjoyed with how everything had turned out. She loved that she was now the fit friend, and that Samaira was now Sam the Ham. 

Sam had gone from being Layla’s fit friend to her fat friend to her pet pig. Oink. Oink. Oink.

What's Coming Next Week: Notebooks, Scales and Some Teasers!

Wow. It's been a busy week for me. But I know what you're wondering.

What's next?

I'll tell you.

Tomorrow: The exclusive extended cut of "Fit Friend, Fat Friend" is coming out. It features over 2,000 additional words and a radically different ending.

Tuesday: "Fat Trimmings" Volume 30 comes out (You can still suggest stories) Among other stories, I'll be including "The Fat Making Notebook Goes Shopping".

Here's a teaser:

Asami almost didn’t bring the notebook with her to the grocery store. She certainly didn’t expect to need it. But as she started to leave her apartment, she couldn’t help but feel a nagging sensation that it would be bad to leave the notebook behind. What if someone broke into the apartment? (Even though she was living in a fourth floor walk up and her door was double bolted and it was also the middle of the day.) The notebook might get stolen. (Even though it was safely locked away in her desk drawer in the same cheesy secret compartment she used to keep her diary in.) So as she hesitated at the door for a moment longer than she could measure, Asami eventually turned around and went back to grab the notebook.

It was better to be safe and sorry, and there was no harm to come from carrying the notebook around.

At least not to her.

So Asami clenched the book in her hands and found that as she headed off to the grocery store, her mind was no longer just on what she would buy to feed herself, but who she would transform while she was there. It seemed to her that the inside of the grocery store would supply an infinite amount of creative ideas. What a perfectly simple place to take the notebook. Plenty of rude Karen’s at the local grocery store. Plenty of people who come back regularly. It was the perfect place to go and find new people- rude people- definitely rude awful people- to punish and a delightful place to check in on them from time to time. Yes. It was definitely the perfect pla-

That’s what Asami was thinking about before her thoughts were rudely interrupted by the jarring sensation of being suddenly run into, not just randomly bumping into someone, but being actively shoulder and nearly sent to the floor. 

“Watch where you’re going, fat ass!”

They were two slim friends who were laughing at her having shoved her right as she was getting to the door of the store, and Asami had to admit that she was getting tired of that particular trope in her life and of people quoting that damn Mean Girls line at her.

That’s when she realized she no longer had the notebook!

In a panic she looked down to see that, fortunately, it had just fallen to the ground right next to her and gone no farther. She snatched it back up and stormed into the grocery store, determined to make the woman who nearly cost her the notebook pay.

There were two women, friends, annoying chatty, catty friends, slim and sexy stereotypes still clearly laughing about what a fine trick they had just played. One, a blonde, was taller and more muscular than her much more petite red headed friend. Based on her musculature, Asami assumed that the blonde Karen was the one to shove into her and took joy in steering her away from the vegetable aisle.

“The blonde who bumped into me will no longer eat salads or enjoy healthy food. She’s become a real junk food junkie, and she’s going to go find a bag of marshmallows to eat right now. As she eats them, her ass is going to grow until it’s so fat that it splits her pants.”

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Later this week: I'll be releasing "The Scales of Time" Chapter 12. It's the final showdown! How will it all end? Well, here's a teaser.

(Warning to those who are not caught up, this contained spoilers)

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Vivian could be beaten. Vivian could be fat. She was fat. Julie had made her fat, and she could make her fatter. It seemed so strange, so petty of a thing to hold onto when the stakes were so impossibly grand. The fat of the entire coven hung in the balance, and yet all Julie could focus on was the way that Vivian’s blubber belly hung like a loose apron of fat over the waistband of her pants, and how much she wanted to make the greedy gut sag all the way down to Vivian’s fat knees. Julie wanted to make Vivian so fat that she was dripping with folds of flesh, tree trunk thighs rolling with fat rolling over the knees to meet her belly. She wanted Vivian to look like an over inflated Michelin man.

Julie’s entire family could be brought low. Her powerful mother could somehow be struck down and left groveling in submission, and all Julie could focus on was her intense hatred of Vivian and her desire to turn her into a pathetic, submissive pig. She pictured forcing Vivian onto all fours with her fat stomach hanging so low that it pressed against the floor. She wanted to see Vivian’s entire massively obese body quiver as she stood over her, fat flesh quaking in fear.

It was a singular focus, and it was a good thing that Julie was able to hold onto it because she almost wretched as she arrived at her destination. Her stomach was doing flips, and the whole world felt like it was spinning. Julie stumbled on her unsteady feet and nearly took a tumble into a nearby bush before she caught her balance. Each step was like walking on a slanted funhouse floor.

She looked down at herself in an attempt to gather her bearings and found that while still heavy she was thinner than she had been in years, seven years to be precise. So she knew she was in the right time.

Now all Julie had to do was get to the right place.

That was easier said than done, but she took off one step at a time in the direction that she knew Vivian would be.

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It should be an exciting week that I hope you'll enjoy!

"Nightmare Pigs" Announcement!

Did you enjoy "Nightmare Pigs"? If so, I have good news. "Nightmare Pigs 2" is coming! I have taken up the commission from the same person who commissioned the original story. (And if that person wishes to reveal themselves, they may choose to do so.)

What will it be about? I know, but I'm not going to tell you just yet. Feel free to theorize below.

But wait, there's more!

I would like to do a patreon exclusive cut epilogue for "Nightmare Pigs" so this is the place for you to tell me what you'd like to see in that. A third post with a story suggestions call this week? Wild!

You feel free to just talk about what you liked about the story here. I'd love to know your thoughts!

"Swimming with Shamu": An Exclusive Cut

So I wrote two quick stories yesterday and then pretty much immediately put them up on Deviant Art. And then I thought "Well, you people pay five dollars a month, so I should probably take at least one of those and give you a quick exclusive cut sequel as a reward for your patronage." So here it is complete with a twist at the end for long time readers.

Enjoy!

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Jamie looked at herself in the locker room mirror and tried to pretend that she didn’t recognize herself. She tried to push the idea that the obese slob looking back at her with a face so fat that it made her eyes look beady could possibly be her out of her mind. But the more she looked at the reflection the more it disgusted her because the more she had to admit that the incredible fatty staring back at her was indeed her.

“I’m such a fatso,” Jamie thought.

She knew that it wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t planned to catch an obesity virus. She… she couldn’t help herself when she came to food. And sure, she didn’t even try to diet or exercise at this point but being this fat, this obese… it wasn’t entirely her fault.

Jamie grabbed her big blubbery belly, the belly she had built by stuffing her face with donuts and pizza and beer and not bothering to do the sit ups and other exercises that she should have done, that she would have done and done easily back when she was thin. Now she held in her hands a gut that she was thoroughly ashamed of and that strained the bathing suit that she was wearing.

That suit was a simple one piece, a utilitarian suit because she couldn’t easily find a stylish one in her size, and she didn’t want to spend too much time in a store even looking for one, admitting just how big she had gotten. And she sure as shit wasn’t going to be caught dead in a bikini with all of her blubber in display. In the past she would have loved showing off her figure in a bikini, but not with this fat figure. Of course, it’s not like the swimsuit really disguised much. It clung to her big flabby belly like a second skin. It barely contained her fat saggy breasts, and the rest of her fat still oozed out. Her very pinchable love handles still hung out shamelessly and even more shameless was her fat ass whose tremendous flabby cheeks were trying their best to eat it.

Jamie reached behind her and felt her fat ass and was once again disappointed to realize that each cheek was now far too large to be held in her individual chubby hands. The fat just spilled over the sides of her hands and oozed between her fingers. She used to love her tight, perky ass, but now her flabby ass was just another sagging disappointment.

And of course her monstrous thunder thighs were on full display. They were great quaking things covered in cellulite, and as she felt them rub together as she waddled toward the pool, Jamie mourned the loss of her previous confident strut and just the ability to move freely and normally in general. When she had slim and toned legs it was so easy to move quickly, confidently, and now that she had no choice but the move slowly because her thighs rubbed together and the rest of her immense body weighed her down, there was no room for confidence. This was eroded further when she got to the pool and saw the Stacy was already there.

“Hey! It’s the Big Shamu!” laughed Stacy.

Jamie was jealous of Stacy, and she couldn’t believe it. Stacy was a complete fat ass, and yet she was somehow confident in her big body. Jamie wished she could have that kind of self-confidence. Of course, she always wished she was as thin as that fat ass Stacy, and that was something Jamie couldn’t believe she was somehow forced to admit. But it was true. Stacy was fat, but Jamie was far fatter. She had earned the nickname she had once so cruelly bestowed upon Stacy. Jamie was the Big Shamu now.

“You about to jump in, Fatso? I’ve got to see this.”

It was hard, but Jamie tried her best to ignore Stacy as she jumped into the pool. It was impossible to ignore Stacy’s laughter at the immense splash that Jamie had made.

“Thar she blows! Hahaha!”

Jamie just went right to swimming. She used to cut through the water with ease, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Each move with her flabby arms was work. Just getting her blubbery bingo wings moving was difficult, and dragging her heavy body through the water was not easy to do. It was a lot easier than trying to walk around, certainly less hell on the joints, but she was still getting winded easily and didn’t even make a full lap before she was stuck getting so winded that all she could do was feebly doggie paddle.

“Sad Shamu can’t even swim a whole lap. Oh well. Enjoy your time, Fatso.”

Stacy had seen enough of a show, and Jamie was grateful to be finally left alone, but as she watched Stacy pull herself out of the water, she wasn’t looking forward to having to do that herself. So Jamie vowed to stay in the water for as long as she could before she had to end up looking and feeling like a big fat flopping fish. 

But eventually the time came. She just couldn’t stay in the pool anymore. So she began to heave herself out, struggling to pull her fat ass out of the pool with her fat weak arms. She was a pathetic sight, and one that was seen at that by her ex-boyfriend Chad and his new girlfriend Wendy. Chad was a hard bodied personal trainer who worked out of the gym that the company used so he also had access to the pool, and Wendy was Jamie’s ex-best friend who worked as a glamor model and was here as Brad’s guest.

“Jeez, Jumbo Jamie. You really did let yourself go. It’s pathetic,” scolded Wendy.

“Yeah. You’re such a fat lazy slob. I really dodged a bullet with you,” laughed Chad.

“See you around, Shamu,” said with a wave before doing an effortlessly graceful dive into the pool.

“Oink. Oink.” added Chad before plunging in with a cannonball.

As Jamie slowly got herself up to her feet, she overheard Chad and Wendy talking about a trip they were planning on taking, a trip that would take them to a tropical locale, to the same tropical locale Jamie went to and got sick.

Jamie waddled away, but couldn’t help but have a knowing smile on her fat face.

(Want to see how Chad and Wendy turn out? They don’t have names in it, but you can go ahead and read “Obesity Virus” in “Fat Trimmings” Volume 15)

Nightmare Pigs: Epilogue

I switched things up. After I was somehow super creative and efficient on the fourth, and I wanted to keep that going, and the best way I could do that would be by finishing off the epilogue to "Nightmare Pigs" and pushing "Fit Friend, Fat Friend" since it turned out to be harder to crack as extended than I expected.

This post includes all of the stuff that was in the original draft I posted and then over 2,000 more words to bring the whole epilogue to over 4,600 words.

Expect another post about "Nightmare Pigs" and it's future later today.

But for now...

Enjoy!

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Things weren’t always easy for Marjorie. Even in college people aren’t exactly the most mature, and the world can be cruel to people of her size. She knew that. She was well aware of the fact that she was on the higher side of fat, morbidly obese as it were, and that a lot of people would look down at her for that sort of thing. They warned her about medical issues. They insulted her with their fake concern. They called her lazy and out of control and all sorts of names.

But Marjorie also knew she had something for when the world wanted to look down on her, something that would keep her going even through the darkest of times.

Marjorie had some of the best friends anyone could ask for. Her friends were kind to her. They were supportive of her. They were always there for her, and they knew what Marjorie was going through because they were going through it too.

All of Marjorie’s friends were big fat slobs, bloated, gassy girls far from glamorous. And even though each and every one of them was fatter than Marjorie was and faced more insults than she did, and certainly had to deal with a number of hygiene issues that Marjorie didn’t have to deal with, they were all unashamed, and Marjorie found that to be incredibly inspiring.

Take Syn for example.

Marjorie watched Syn waddle into the campus dining hall and instantly watched heads turn to leer and gawk at the fat woman in fishnets and a pair of black shorts that barely contained her bulbous rear end. Syn wore a broken corset that couldn’t hope to contain her massive belly which spilled out from under it and over the waistband of her shorts. Her jelly belly jiggled with each pondering step, and the fishnets threatened to break from the friction of her fat thighs rubbing together. Cellulite covered fat oozed through the holes, and people took notice. Several of them stuck their fingers in their mouths and made a gagging sound, and a few especially mean sorority sisters came up to Syn, poked her in her gelatinous gut and then let loose a loud chorus of moos.

And how did Syn react?

“Fuck you, hos!” she declared with a defiant double bird to her would be tormentors.

Then she slapped her belly and gave it a big shake.

“You jealous? You prissy pricks want some of this? Oh yeah! Look at it! Look at it! Drink it in, losers.”

And then…

PPPPPFFFFFFFPPPHHHRRRRRRRBBBTTTTT!!!!!!

Syn lifted her leg like she was going to take a sumo wrestler stance and instead ripped a titanic fart and wafted the stench over toward her enemies who began to gag for real and run away.

“Yeah. You like that, you bleach blonde bitches! You skinny whores! Take it! Take it all!”

And with a few more less controlled toots for good measure, Syn waddled over to Marjorie’s table.

Marjorie wished she could have Syn’s devil may care attitude and outrageous outward confidence. She was sure that the cruel words must be getting to her on the inside, at least a little bit, but Syn was strong and didn’t let it show. She was always able to give just as well as she got and turned what others made fun of her, her fat and her flatulence, into some of her greatest weapons. She often left Marjorie in awe with her raw fat goth biker chick kind of energy.

The dining hall bench groaned as Syn sat down next to Marjorie. For a moment there was a flash in her mind. She was Cynthia again, disgusted, horrified by the obese slob that she was. She pawed at her belly fat as she felt heat flash across the back of her neck. She felt her fat flabby well cushioned ass sit down on the bench next to this fat loser she used to make fun of, a fat loser that was now thinner than she was (without losing any weight). The bench groaned under her blubbery body weight, and she thought about how thin and light she used to be, how graceful she had been, how prim and proper. She tried to push herself up to run away but only ended up lifting one leg and-

Pfffffffffft

Then she looked at Marjorie.

“Sup, slut?” Syn asked as she stole one of Marjorie’s cheese fries and plopped it into her mouth.

“You can get your own, you know,” snarked Marjorie. Standing up for herself like this was still relatively new to her, but her fat friend group had filled her with confidence.

“Yeah. I know. I know,” muttered Syn in deference.

“It’s just such a long walk and I needed a breather. Okay?”

Marjorie looked at Syn and nodded with sympathy.

“Yeah. Okay. But you owe me more cheese fries when you get up.”

“And cheesy garlic bread and some cookies. I know the drill. You got it.”

“Thanks… whore.”

“Yeah. No. That doesn’t sound the same coming from you.”

“I thought I’d try it on.”

“It didn’t fit.”

“Just like your corset.”

The two laughed together as they shared the cheese fries with Syn hungrily calculating just how many she could have and how long she would be able to go without having to get up and get more herself. She figured that if she could just hold out long enough, another one of their friends might show up, and she might be able to convince her to get the food for them.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Big Bee came waddling in.

Bethany would have strut with purpose. She would have had a confident, dominant gait meant to demonstrate her power and cultivate both awe and fear. But Big Bee, alternately known as Big Bertha depending on the moment, had a slow ponderous waddle mostly because of the immense size of her tree trunk thighs but also because of the amount she had just toked up before coming here. With her eyes bleary and her fat legs feeling like they were walking through sand, Big Bee giggled to herself and let out a little toot that elicited another burst of laughter as she was “propelled” toward the table occupied by Marjorie and Syn.

“Heeeeeey there…. Ladies.” droned Bee.

“Sup, Bertha, you big bad bitch,” replied Syn whose eyes gleamed as she saw the opportunity she had been waiting for.

“Hey, do you mind getting us some more food while you’re already up?”

“Awww yeah, kiwohsabeeeeeeeee. Anything for me amigops.”

The unnecessary p at the end of amigos was further punctuated by a pop of flatulence that burst from Bee’s blubbery behind.

“You don’t have to,” interjected Marjoie.

“But if you wanted to,” hurried Syn.

“We would love some more cheese fries, some cheesy garlic bread, some pizza, some meatballs, and some cookies.”

“You got it, homeslice,” nodded Big Bee with her mind really leaning toward that mention of pizza.

She threw up the weakest finger guns that her chubby, uncoordinated sausage fingers could still manage and waddled off to fetch the food for her fat friends.

As She began to pile her platter full of plates of food, the same sorority girls from earlier came circling around to make fun of Bethany.

“Hey there, Big Bertha, you bloated cow.”

“Moooooooo, you fat hippie loser.”

“Gonna cram your big fat face full of more food, aren’t you? You really need all that, pig?”

“Piggy can’t help herself. Isn’t that right, Piggy? Oink. Oink. Oink.”

“Yeah! Come on and oink for us, Piggy!”

“No. No. Moo for us, you fat cow.”

Big Bee just let the insults bounce off her blubber and shook her head.

“Why you gotta like make fun of my body, man? Like all bodies are b-beaUTiful no matter how big they are. And yeah. I may be big… big, big, blubbery, big blubber wubba chubba wubba blub blub blubbery blubber big and blubbery but I’m big and beautiful… baby.”

“You’re fat and disgusting,” one of the girls spat back.

“Well that’s like… your opinion, man.”

Phhrrrrrrbbbbbtttt

The fart squeaked out of Bee and got the sorority sisters gagging.

“Oh, god, not again.”

“This fat pig is just like her friend.”

“Of course she is, we could already smell her from a mile away.”

“Gross!”

“What’s the matter?” Bee asked with a shrug and a sniff of her own flatulence.

“It’s like natural. All of us do it, you know.”

“Have some decency and do it elsewhere?”

“Why?” asked Bee as she let rip another trumpeting fart that sent the sorority sisters running and screaming.

“Some people just can’t handle a little bit of nature,” mused Bee as she raised her fat arms above her head exposing her sweaty armpit hair. 

As a whiff of her own body odor hit her, Bee’s eyes went wide.

For a moment she was Bethany again and dealing with the fact that she had been turned into this fat, flatulent, foul smelling pig, an absolute obese hog. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. She was supposed to be slim and sexy, prim and proper in complete control. She was the one who pushed others around, not just the kind of fat pathetic loser who let others insult her. But here she was, fat as hell and smelling disgusting.

Bethany couldn’t help herself and took a big sniff of her armpit just to see how bad things have gotten, and as she coughed at her own smell and sent her bingo wings wobbling along with the rest of her big fat blubbery body, she let out a few more farts. Bethany tried to fight against it all, but her drug filled haze began creeping forward again in her mind, and soon she was Big Bee once more.

“Now where was I?” she thought before looking at the platter she had been filling.

“Oh right! The pizza. Yuuuuuuuuummmmmm.”

Big Bee went back to piling her platter with all the food she was asked for and brought it over to her friends.

“Here you go,” she said with a wide lazy smile.

“Thanks, slut. You gonna have some?”

“Nah. I’m gonna go back and get my own pizza… and some wings… and some pasta… yeah.”

“You sure? Syn can share this pizza with you and get you more later. You shouldn’t have to do all the work.”

“Heeeey. Nah. Is fiiiine. We are… fully good,” Bee said with a chuckle and then turned to waddle off back toward the buffet line to fill a platter for herself.

Marjorie watched Big Bee waddle off and couldn’t help but stare at the way her big blubbery buttcheeks bounced and sway with every sing slow lumbering step. She admired the way Big Bee walked- well waddled- through life with seldom a care in the world. Whereas Syn was full of confrontation, Bee was endlessly pleasant and relaxed. They made an excellent pairing. And their trio was completed by–

“Booyah!” blurted Didi as she bellied her way through the dining hall door. And once inside her blubbery butt let loose a tremendous trumpeting blast of ass gas.

“WOOF! Get a load of that! Damn!” Didi, formerly Diana, said as she lifted a leg and let another one rip followed by a peel of loud nasally laughter that sent her big belly bouncing.

Didi, despite how heavy she was, managed to bounce with a pep in each waddling step. Syn showed her confidence through her ability to confront and stand up to others. Bee displayed hers by being relaxed and letting things come as they were. The artist formerly known as Diana let her confidence shine through pure unadulterated joy, a kind of manic energy that could not possibly be contained just like her clothes could not possibly contain all her blubber.

She was a bubbly blubbery girl, and her outfit reflected all of that. She was a big girl in bright pink booty shorts that barely contained her blubbery butt cheeks and a matching pink tube top that was not ashamed to let big gluttonous gut hang out. Her big meaty muffin top was out and proud as it spilled over the waistband of her shorts which were ridiculously tiny on her butt would have fit old mousy Diana in one leg. This new and improved version also proudly displayed her tig ol’ bitties with the help of a heavy duty push up bra. She had big balloons for breasts that still made her rather popular at parties with men and women alike despite her bloated sides and propensity for flatulence.

Didi was truly like a balloon filled with hot air included in her empty head. That head was topped with platinum blonde hair teased with enough hairspray to get her an international reprimand under the Paris Climate Accords. Her fat face was graced by two extra chins which wobbled along with the rest of her ballooned out body as she waddled about without a care in the world just doing whatever she pleased as one big supersized id. 

She didn’t even bother to blush as she was met with a mix of cat calls and jeers, lustful stares and judgmental leers alike. Didi just carried through it all like carried herself through the majority of life, mostly oblivious. 

Once again those pesky sorority sisters came around.

“Oh, god another one of those pathetic fatties.”

“It’s a real pig show in here today.”

“They’ll just let anyone wander around with their gut hanging out. Like, that’s disgusting. People are trying to eat here.”

“You’re gross!” one of them shouted as she slapped Didi’s big sweaty belly and gave it a shake.

Didi couldn’t help but let out a little moan as her blubbery belly was touched.

“And you’re hot. Wanna bang?”

As Diana felt her big belly being pinched and shook, her old personality slipped back, and she had to admit that what she was saying she said freely. An unexpected side effect of completely emptying her mind seemed to unlock a lot of incredibly repressed sexual inhibitions, and Diana fully came forth in moments like these where she felt like she was living like Jekyll and Hyde. She felt herself practically purr at the thought of it all. As much as her fat body disgusted her, this unbridled confidence she had gained, this carnal awakening, it was intoxicating and she wanted more of it. Unlike most of the others, Diana found herself in control so much more often. She’d shift from Didi, take what she wanted and then fade back into blissful ignorance. Diana was free to live a life of unbridled lust and then let Didi live her life of unbridled gluttony. She would almost be thankful for it all if she didn’t have to spend her time being an incredible fatso, a gluttonous pig in garish pink outfits.

Old prejudices die hard, but they seeped away as another whining fart escaped her fat ass and Didi took over once again.

“Damnit, this one too!”

“Of course she’s full of gas. She’s a parade balloon!”

“You disgusting pig!”

“You cow!”

Didi was blissfully unaware of the cries of the sorority sisters as she helped herself to a cupcake before filling her own platter with a hearty multi-plate dinner and waddled over to her table of friends.

Marjorie really admired how Didi wasn’t afraid to put herself out there and was always so joyful. She was really happy for Didi and her ability to find happiness with seemingly anyone she wanted.

Of course, Marjorie was a one woman kind of gal, and the butterflies in her big fat stomach fluttered as she looked over and saw her big beautiful girlfriend entering the dining hall.

Mildred was huge, a great wobbling mass of woman, and she had no choice but to waddle across the dining hall slowly even though her greedy, gelatinous gut was craving food and making her want to get to feasting as soon as possible. She was clearly sweating profusely from exertion after trying to get herself here as fast as possible. Moving fast was just simply not possible at here immense weight and size. It wasn’t just that Mildred’s thighs were thick, there were definitely great tree trunks of fat, but that same greedy gut that made her want food so badly was also so incredibly large and saggy that it spilled forward in and apron of fat and onto her thunder thighs which hindered her movement even further.

Her massive belly was split in such a way that her thick lower belly roll was tucked into her greasy sweatpants and her blubber upper belly was mostly contained by a food and sweat stained Star Wars shirt, but there was still a big stretch mark covered sliver that was completely exposed for all to see, a bit of blubber the peaked out from under the shirt and pushed over the waistband of her sweats. And that gigantic gut hanging down in front was still not the end of her physical impediments.

She was a real lumbering lard ass, and another reason for Mildred moving like a fat slug was the lumpy blubber butt that she was dragging behind her. It was a tremendous ass that shook wildly with each ponderous step that Mildred made with her big fat feet. The only thing that propelled her ass any fast were the occasional blasts of rank flatulence that ripped out from between her chunky cellulite covered cheeks. Her bloated buns were so bulbous that they struggled to be contained in her greasy sweatpants, and the tops of her cheeks often crested the pants leading to plenty of chuckling from others and her frequent need to reach behind her with her chubby hands to pull the pants back up.

Mildred plodded through the dining hall and loaded up on fattening food to feast on and then waddled on over to sit next to her beautiful and blubber girlfriend.

Even with Marjorie moving over to give Mildred more room, the two still took up a significant portion of their bench and they found themselves squishing together quite a bit, not that either of them minded that. Marjorie held onto one of Mildred’s hamhock sized arms with one hand while stealing a fry with the other.

“Hey, you little piglet,” laughed Mildred as she playful smacked her girlfriend’s hand away.

“You’re one to talk, hoggie.” responded Marjorie as she rubbed Mildred’s blubbery double belly with one hand and stole another pair of fries with the other.

“Oink. Oink. Oink. Oink. Oink.” They said in unison, snorting and laughing at each other.

They were both fat and happy; Mildred was truly fat and happy. Unlike the others, she never had bad dreams about what she used to be. It was like her transformation had the unintended consequence of reawakening feelings for Marjorie that she had long kept buried, and now she was fat and free to do what she wanted. Sometimes she would just stare into Marjorie’s eyes with love until.

PPPPPFFFFRRRRRBBBBBTTT!!!!!

“Oops. Excuse me,” exclaimed Mildred as her chubby cherubic cheeks blushed.

“Oh, you know I don’t mind, babe,” reassured Marjorie.

“Yeah, it’s all like… natural, ya know,” added Big Bee before letting out a tremendous burst of her own.

“Toot. Toot,” chuckled Didi as she added her own flatulence to the chorus.

“Okay. Can we cut the shit,” said Syn with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh, come on, Syn. Loosen up,” scolded Marjorie.

“Ugg. Fine,” said Syn right before lifting one blubbery butt cheek and letting loose with a huge trumpeting fart of her own.

Everyone began to laugh in uniform as people around them added a bunch of cruel ones and mean laughter that went unnoticed, especially as those people quickly moved away because of the smell. And once those would be cruel people moved away there was only one person left standing, casting a metaphorical shadow over the table with her immense figure.

It was Jennifer Russel in all her obese, slovenly glory.

Everyone knew about Jennifer Russel. Everyone here had been burned by Jennifer Russel. And everyone knew what had happened to her.

Jennifer was the Queen Bee, the spoiled popular, prim and proper princess, the slim and sexy bitch who loved to flaunt her figure and make fun of everyone else. She made other people’s lives hell. And then her life went to hell as she fell even farther and faster than anyone could have dreamt of.

A year ago, Jennifer developed some kind of glandular condition and spent the rest of that year absolutely piling on the pounds, putting on an unbelievable amount of weight and becoming far fatter than anyone she had ever made fun of. The woman who once was a cheerleader and could have been a model was now an obese blob. Her arms had long since melted away and grown into a ridiculously round and blubbery double belly which was like a huge saggy apron of fat that also spilled out in every possible direction. It was rounded out perfectly by the thick meaty love handles that completed her massive muffin top, a mighty muffin top decorated with bright red stretch marks. 

Jennifer’s thighs were equally huge, each one twice the size of previously trim waist. They were blubbery tree trunks that made her a slow, lumbering waddler. Her titanic thunder thighs shook and slapped and rubbed together with every ponderous step, and those steps were made with fat feet that were attached to a pair of swollen cankles.

Her ass was equally titanic when compared to her tremendous thighs and bulbous belly. It hung out behind her and was a flabby, foul smelling mess. Jennifer’s once tight, perky ass was now wide and full of lard, and through the rapid changes to her diet became a veritable fart factory.

That was one of the biggest changes to Jennifer Russel. Yes, she had gained a huge amount of weight and was now immensely obese. She had mammoth sagging breasts and pillow arms with flabby bingo wings, and she also had an incredibly round and jowly face with multiple chins and a fat piggish nose. But her glandular condition explained all of that. It didn’t necessarily explain just how much of a slob Jennifer had become.

It was clear that Jennifer Russel had just given up, and as her body ballooned, she stopped fighting it. With her whole precious world shattered, she just leaned into food for comfort which sped along her weight gain, and she just stopped taking care of herself in general. She was a sweaty individual, and where she once worked up a sweat from working out, she now sweat just sitting around, and whereas her previous sweat had only a hint of odor at best, she was now incredibly foul smelling, and that sweat and smell was compounded by the fact that the previously prim and proper Jennifer now barely showered, and when she did shuffle her heavy body full of fatty folds and rolls was difficult to clean thoroughly. This was especially true with her fat ass.

Jennifer used to be clean and dainty, but now her constantly flatulent flabby ass was so large that now only did it stink from her flatulence and get swampy with sweat, it was now so incredibly large that her fat hands had considerable challenge keeping anywhere close to clean. So now Jennifer was nothing more than a greasy, gassy pig of a girl.

And here she was standing in front of the same women she had spent her time as a vain and skinny vixen making fun of.

“C-can… can I sit with you?” stuttered the now shy Jennifer with her head hung lower and her multiple chins fully inflated.

“What? You think just because you’re fat now- fatter than us, you can sit with us? Get out of here,” demanded Syn.

“Eww. Like, no thanks. You were a big fat meanie, and now you’re just big and fat, and we don’t like you,” add Didi

“Yeah… this is like your big fat karma, dude. You’re a fat stinky loser now like make like a leaf and get out of here… dude,” said Bee as she ate a gummy bear that she definitely didn’t get from the dining hall.

“What do you think, Marjorie?” asked Mildred as she demurred to her smart and beautiful girlfriend.

Marjorie took a long moment to think about it, running her thumb and forefinger across her double chin before deciding.

“I think everyone deserves a second chance.”

It took her a moment, but Marjorie got up from her seat, waddled over to Jennifer and put her hands on Jennifer’s fat slumped shoulders.

“You used to be thin right?”

“Y-yes.”

“And now you’re a fatso just like us, right?”

Jennifer didn’t want to admit it. She wanted to be slim and sexy again. She wanted to believe that there was a way back for her, but she knew better and had to tell the truth.

“Yes.”

“Say it,” Marjorie said with a smile.

“I’m a fatso just like you,” Jennifer reluctantly admitted. She was clearly a sad and broken individual, but Marjorie wanted her to be completely vulnerable and honest too.

“In fact, you’re fatter than all of us aren’t you?”

Jennifer swallowed a big lump in her throat and nodded with her multiple chins wobbling.

“Y-yes. I’m fatter than all of you. I’m the fattest fatso here.”

“And you were so vain and mean, weren’t you?”

“Yes. I was. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“And this is what you deserve, isn’t it?” asked with a glimmer of purple twinkling in her eyes.

Jennifer’s eyes went wide, but her mouth moved mechanically.

“Yes. I deserve this. I deserve to be a big fat loser.”

“And you’re not vain anymore.”

“No. I’m just a big fat slob, I’m an obese, sweaty, flatulent hog, and I’ll never be slim and sexy and prim and proper again. I’ll never be vain, I promise.”

Marjorie pinched Jennifer’s chubby cheek.

“Because you’re just a big fat piggy.”

“I am. I’m just a big fat piggy.”

Marjorie turned back to the title.

“She’s just like us…. Just fatter. So we should give her another chance and let her sit with us,” Marjorie exclaimed as her eyes flickered again.

Everyone else dutifully nodded in deferment, and Marjorie turned back toward Jennifer.

“Sure us.”

“What?”

“Show us that you’re a pig just like we are, just like you used to call us.”

“O… okay,” said Jennifer with a nod and then squeezed out a loud, long, wet sounding fart that brought a round of applause from the table. And she followed that up with….

“Oink… oink. Oink. Oink. Oink. Oink oink oink oink oink.” And this led to an eruption of a chorus of oinking from the pigs at the table as Jennifer was ushered to a seat and welcomed amongst them.

Marjorie looked at everyone with glee and was so grateful for her big fat friends.

Elsewhere….

Scarlet looked at the big, angry, deep purple vein that now ran up her forearm and across the back of her hand. It was violent and ugly just like the punishing transformation she had brought down on others, especially that Jennifer Russel. But it was all worth it, and it was all over.

She had changed Marjorie’s life for the better by changing those who had wronged her. Scarlet had made her daughter happy, and that was all that mattered. That was the whole point.

But still…

Scarlet had to admit that there was something she had enjoyed so much, the power, the fear she invoked.

It felt so good to be back in the game.

"The Big Shamu"

Another quick story? Yeah. Surprise! I joined the Weekly Weigh In Writers group on Deviant Art and this week's prompt by Extra Baggage Claim was WHALE. So...

Enjoy!

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Jamie loved to swim. She loved to feel her body cut through the water with ease, and she loved to flaunt that body in any kind of swimwear, especially bikinis. Jamie had very impressive abs that were her favorite thing in the whole wide world. She would rub her abs, talk about her abs, show off her abs at the slightest provocation. She was always eager to share just how hot she thought her body was.

And whenever she talked about how hot her body was, it was inevitably followed by talking about how not how someone else’s body was. Jamie loved to nitpick the figures of everyone around her. Even her friends who were equally vain and stereotypically hot felt the sting of Jamie’s nitpicks, a comment about a pound or two gained, a pinch of any little bit of softness, and snide remarks about what people were eating.

Jamie was the queen of “Do you really need that?” and “Maybe seconds aren’t the best idea.”

Yes, Jamie was often critical and cruel, and there was nobody she was more critical and cruel too then her co-worker Stacy. Stacy was a rather large girl, someone that Jamie considered to be a real pig, or more accurately, a whale. Stacy never did anything to Jamie, and, due to Jamie’s relentless teasing, did whatever she could to stay out of Jamie’s way. But there was one place that Stacy and Jamie had a tendency to cross paths because they both loved to take advantage of one particular company perk.

They both loved to swim in the company pool.

Stacy had always loved swimming. The pool was where she felt her lightest. It was so freeing and fun- Of course it was whenever Jamie wasn’t there.

Whenever Jamie was in the same pool, she would mock Stacy relentless, for her lack of speed, her lack of grace, and especially her figure. She loved to tease and poke and pinch Stacy and call her names like Fatso and Lard Ass, but given the circumstances, the pool, Stacy’s size, and her name beginning with an S, Jamie’s favorite name for Stacy was “Shamu” or more often “The Big Shamu”. There was just something about adding that Big for added emphasis that Jamie really loved. Obviously, Stacy did not share that same love.

What Stacy did love was what ended up happening to Jamie.

The vain and cruel Jamie, the bane of Stacy’s otherwise happy existence, went on vacation and while swimming in an exotic lake contracted some kind of extremely rare virus. It was lucky that it was extremely rare and hard to catch or it would have caused a global panic.

Jamie caught a virus that made her fat.

Well, it didn’t make her fat per say, but it did lead to an incredible increase in appetite and a crashing of her metabolism. Theoretically, Jamie could have avoided gaining weight (and her vain friends were always quick to point that out), but that would have taken an extreme amount of effort when it came to planning and sticking to an insanely strict diet. And that would have been helped by knowing something was up in advance, but of course Jamie didn’t realize anything was wrong at first.

Vain Jamie couldn’t accept that she was gaining weight, that she would ever gain weight. So she started craving more things? Who cares? She could eat whatever she wanted without getting fat. Pants were getting snug? She must have shrunk them. More snug clothes? Most be her time of the month. Still snug? Water weight. Nothing to be worried about.

By the time she was actually concerned about her rapid weight gain, and went to a doctor to get diagnosed with an extremely rare jungle obesity virus, it was too late. Jamie had fallen into all new bad habits and was a hopeless junk food junkie. And all of the junk food and her crashed metabolism left her too tired to workout with any kind of regularity, so that pounds had piled on and they would continue to pile on because there was no magical pill for Jamie to take.

Nobody prepares you for catching an obesity virus, and Jamie found herself in a whole new fat world where everything she had previously known was in reverse. Jamie no longer loved to show off her body now that she had gone from being slim to being thoroughly obese and seemingly getting fatter by the day. She didn’t even like to look at herself in the mirror since she had turned herself into the kind of person she used to make fun of.

Jamie’s precious abs were gone, replaced by a big blubbery belly that was a swaying apron of fat in front of her. Every day she would hold it in her hands and hate herself as she kneaded the spongy fat like it was bread dough and felt its immense weight in her chubby hands. She would pinch it and jiggle it and feel the flabby fat ooze through her sausage fingers. The rest of her body had grown incredibly fat as well.

She had thunder thighs that made her waddle and a blubber butt that was soft and saggy and covered in cellulite just like her thighs. Her breasts had grown bigger but sagged more and were far outpaced by her gelatinous gut, and her arms had grown flabby bingo wings. Even Jamie’s face had grown so fat, with pudgy jowls and a doughy double chin that she was barely recognizable.

But she was still recognizable, and those who remembered her as being a vain and cruel victim who loved to nitpick others reveled in her downfall.

“Do you really need that cupcake, lard ass?”

“Maybe a second slice of pizza isn’t a great idea, piggy.”

“You’ve really let yourself go, Jamie. You’ve become quite the fatty. Maybe it’s time to give dieting a really serious chance before you break the scale.”

“What a fat loser you turned into, right Fat Ass?”

“Why don’t you show us your abs now, Blubber Gut?”

“Oink. Oink. Oink.”

“Moooooooooo.”

These were just some of the comments that followed Jamie around, and she felt deep down that she deserved every single one of them because she was a lazy pathetic fatty like she had always made fun of, and she had always been vain and cruel so this was the karma she deserved.

Now Stacy was happy being fat. She loved her body, and had a much more positive mindset than Jamie. She knew she was beautiful, that all bodies are beautiful. And there was a real part of her that felt bad for Jamie and wanted to show her some love and positive attention and help her get through this.

But then she saw Jamie in the pool.

Jamie had crammed herself into a one piece swimsuit that her blubbery body was still positively bursting out of because the water was where she felt most at home, and it was the only place she felt light at all.

Stacy ran into her and couldn’t help but notice that Jamie was now the far fatter of the two. And she needed to say something.

“Gee, Jumbo Jamie. I guess you’re the Big Shamu now. Huh, Fatso?”

And that’s how Jamie learned her lesson the hard way and never said another mean thing to anybody ever again.

"The Most American Thing”

So Kazul, my first and longest running patron, suggested a great idea in my latest story suggestions call post (which I hope more people will reply to) and said something along the lines of "It was probably too late to write a Fourth of July story" but then the idea was so good that I stopped everything else and banged this baby out. So while you may or may not be enjoying hot dogs and fireworks today, you can all have a bit of weight gain and role reversal.

It probably deserves an extended cut at some point. We’love have to see if there’s demand for that.

Enjoy!

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“The Most American Thing”

Marisol had worked hard to get to America. She was determined to live her American dream, to make it in the land of plenty. And she may have started out as a humble maid, working long hours at that job before working even more hours as a dishwasher, but she was determined to be rich enough to bring her entire family to the country, to be a citizen, a true American who could be proud of herself and her new country.

And she knew she deserved it. She was hard working. She was a kind person. And she was beautiful. These were all of the characteristics that people always told her would be the things that she needed to make it in America. In America, if you work hard enough and pull yourself up by your bootstraps you could do anything and be anything. That’s what she was told. So she learned the language, and kept her body fit, and she was willing to do anything to make it to and in America.

The one thing she needed that nobody told her was quite a bit of luck. And for the first few years of her time in America luck was not on her side. Instead she kept finding herself in unlucky situations where, despite her incredible work ethic, instead of being rewarded she found herself in situations where more often than not people wanted to take advantage of her immigration status.

But then, luck finally hit her when she landed a job with the Maxwells. Maximilian and Stephanie Maxwell were in many ways a stereotypical rich couple. Max was slightly older than Stephanie and had a definite dad bod but also a ton of money, and Stephanie was every bit the extremely vain trophy wife whom Max had plucked out of obscurity. Prior to marrying Max, Stephanie was living in a trailer trash and working double shifts at the bar/strip joint where she met Max during one of his friend’s bachelor party. She had a very sexy body and she knew it. She loved to flaunt it and was eager to put others down in the process.

Once she married Maximilian, Stephanie did a rather good job of transforming herself into the image of a prim and proper lady while also maintaining her vanity and catty attitude. She loved having maids and tormenting them until they quit.

But Marisol had a far different work ethic than those other maids, and she also had an extra talent. Marisol was an excellent cook.

And one day, Maximillian Maxwell sampled her cooking. From that day on, she wasn’t just the maid, she was also the main cook. And Marisol did an excellent job of cooking up delicious and indulgent meals that even Stephanie couldn’t resist. Of course, since Stephanie couldn’t just run Marisol ragged as a maid anymore, she decided to push her as a chef by constantly having her cook up big meals, and snacks, and late night indulgences. And all of that indulgence caused her waistline to inflate.

Stephanie’s trophy wife body quickly gave way to a much looser, chunkier form. Her abs melted away and bloated up into a big fat potbelly. Her tight ass became a sagging blubber butt. Stephanie’s thighs lost their tone and became flabby cellulite covered thunder thighs. Even her arms grew soft and flabby, and her angelic face grew the hint of a double chin.

Marisol also became a victim of her own cooking, gaining a noticeable amount of weight, though not nearly as much as Stephanie. Unlike Stephanie, Marisol’s physical activity around the house allowed her to maintain some kind of tone and so her weight only enhanced her gorgeous hourglass figure with new curves added to her hips and ass. Marisol looked curvy and voluptuous while the lazy Stephanie’s fat settled sloppily on her body.

Of course, the changes were not limited to the women of the house as Maximillian also grew fatter thanks to Marisol’s amazing talent. But that talent also had an additional effect on him.

They say the fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. And as Maximillian’s already large stomach grew larger, he began to view Marisol in a very different light. As Stephanie’s body bloated, it became easier for Max to see all of her many flaws and annoyances, and especially the way she was so mean to Marisol. So it was too long after Stephanie was officially a fatty that Maximliian decided it was time to make a change.

And that’s why rich men get prenups.

The divorce was quick and merciless and left the vain and cruel Stephanie with nothing. And with nothing left to her name Stephanie had no choice but to move back to the trailer park where she became an absolute trailer trash slob rather quickly. The whole ordeal had made her bitter, angry and depressed and drove her to more food for comfort. And the only food she could afford was cheap fast food which wrecked havoc on her already widened waistline.

Stephanie, the former hardbody stripper became an obese slob who couldn’t even get her job back working the day shift. Every back at the trailer park loved to humiliate her and taunt her after she went from thinking she was better than them and transforming from princess to pig. Oinking followed her wherever her fat ass waddled about. Occasionally, people in the trailer park would take turns grilling and throwing pirates. They made sure to invite Stephanie so they could watch her stuff her face with hotdogs and burgers. People would even challenge her to hotdog eating contests like it was Nathan’s on the Fourth, and she would do it. It was the only thing she had left to feel any sort of accomplishment, her ability to out eat all of her neighbors, and they loved to make fun of her for it. 

She grew a great big gut that spilled over her greasy sweatpants, and thick thighs that forced her to waddle about. Her flabby ass was a broken shelf of fat, and her thick arms had flabby bingo wings where toned biceps once were. Her face grew fatter, becoming round and jowly with a doughy double chin and skin that was greasy from the cheap food she was cramming into her fat face. She had lost everything and was a fat mess of a woman.

Marisol meanwhile, was living the American Dream. She too had fallen in love with Maximillian Maxwell, and with Stephanie out of the way, it was only a matter of time before she had become the new Mrs. Marisol Maxwell.

She got fatter too of course; she also became quite obese as she enjoyed her new lavish and indulgent lifestyle, but Maximillian loved her for so much more than her beauty, which he found grew by the day. He loved her kindness, and her cooking.

Even when they got a new cook, Marisol still loved ot dazzle in the kitchen. She and the cook became great friends. In fact she was friends with any members of the household staff whom she made sure all received excellent living wages. Of course, there was one other thing that Marisol couldn’t help but indulge herself with.

Mairsol loved to throw elaborate parties. For her this was part of the grandeur of being American. And when she brought her entire family over, she loved to show them her new friends, and she loved to show everyone a good time. So the parties were large and frequent, and when she threw them she often found she needed some auxiliary staff.

And that’s where the fat and desperate Stephanie came in.

Marisol loved hiring Stephanie as a part time maid and server and showing her off to all of her former friends. It was a grand bit of entertainment for all of them.

When Marisol finally received her formal citizenship, she threw the grandest party of them all, and fat ass Stephanie was there waddling about serving hors d'oeuvres and waiting to clean up the massive mess afterward. Marisol looked at her former boss turned employee with glee.

The two cut startling different figures even if they were both obese women. Stephanie was by far the fatter of the two in her ill fitting maid’s uniform that really highlighted her blubbery belly and her tremendously thick thighs and flabby sagging sloppy ass cheeks. In contrast, Marisol looked like an opulent obese queen. She was draped in a glamorous gown that hugged and highlighted her exaggerated hourglass figure and was drowning in jewelry. She looked like royalty, and Stephanie looked like what she had become, a fat lazy pig.

Marisol had a great life. She was living the American Dream and had it all, money, friends, a loving husband, and vengeance. 

She was fat and happy, and what could be more American than that?

Want me to write your ideas? Suggest them now!

I know it's the fourth of July which means some people may be out an about, but Tuesday waits for nobody, and this Tuesday means "Fat Trimmings" Volume 30 is coming out. That means I need your suggestions for story ideas.

Additionally, I think people might have missed the Exclusive Cuts call for suggestions because of all the other stuff I was posting. I still need your story ideas for Exclusive Cuts Volume 8 "Sorority Swells".

You can make suggestions for both things here, so suggest away please. I look forward to reading them and writing them.

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 29

Here are four more fat fiction pieces.

Enjoy!

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“The Big 100”

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One hundred pounds. She had gained one hundred pounds, packed on one hundred pounds. How could she have ended up like this? How could she let herself end up like this?

Gaining one hundred pounds doesn’t just happen. It’s not this magical occurrence where you go to bed slim and wake up extremely obese.

Obese.

She really had to sit and think about that word, mostly because standing is not exactly the easiest thing to do when you’re carrying an extra hundred pounds of blubber. And the word still floored her. She wasn’t just fat. She was obese, and she had been obese for a while now. She remembered how much she dreaded checking her BMI and realizing for the first time that she was officially overweight. That seemed like a threshold moment, and turning point. She knew then that she needed to get things under control or they were going to get completely out of hand and quickly and…

Well, the results were pretty clear. Two hundred and twenty pounds. That was the number that was looking back up at her from the scale, one hundred pounds heavier than her starting weight. And she was lucky she could even see it over her fat dome of a belly. It took quite a lot of squeezing and squishing to manipulate her body enough to see the numbers without messing with the measurement. But there they were, big bright red numbers right next to her big fat feet. 

She remembered when she broke two hundred pounds. She almost had a breakdown. When she got to two hundred pounds, that’s when she knew that getting to two twenty, and gaining one hundred pounds overall, was inevitable. She tried to slow it down as best she could, but she just couldn’t help herself. Food was too good. Exercise was too hard. That’s how she ended up in this mess in the first place.

Eating had become a pleasure, then a trap. She used to think she had the metabolism to eat whatever she wanted, and she did for a while. But then she just wanted to much, and that metabolism cracked, and once it cracked the weight just started piling on like crazy. She used to be so slim, society’s stereotypical standard for sexy. She used to love to flaunt it too. Now she didn’t dare flaunt her flab, but it just seemed to end up happening. That’s part of the many problems of gaining weight so fast, you outgrow a lot of clothes, and when you outgrow clothes quickly, you tend to outgrow them in a rather explosive fashion.

Pants frequently had their buttons popped and their backsides blasted open by the expanding nature of her belly and butt. She even ripped the seams of dresses that she had once enjoyed many glamorous evenings in. That was a real blow to her pride, to see all the designer outfits she had destroyed and had to throw away replaced by sweatpants and stretchy leggings. It made her feel like such a slob, such a lazy loser to not even be able to squeeze her fat ass into a pair of jeans and feel good in them. Of course, all of the lounging around she did in sweatpants feeling lazy just made working out that much more difficult which led to that many more pounds and then-

One hundred pounds.

It was a heavy number on her tongue just like it was a heavy weight around the rest of her body. And the shame of it all is that she could have been enjoying herself. She could have embraced the body positivity movement, and she probably would have if she hadn’t spent so many years being anti-body positivity. When she was slim and sexy she loved to make other people feel less than her. She looked at fat people with disgust and loved to make sure they knew that. Fatties were her favorite target, their big butts were often the butt of her jokes. Whenever she had the chance, she would poke fun at them- and sometimes even poke their actual fat. She would take and share rude pictures, leave rude comments, and do any number of things at any time to make it clear that she thought fat people were lesser beings who deserved to be ridiculed and humiliated for their gluttony and laziness.

Then she became a fat person.

And unfortunately that fatphobia was internalized. That meant that all of her cruel commentary was now pointed inward which just depressed her and in turn made her eat even more. Ironically, if she hadn’t been so fatphobic she probably wouldn’t have ended up getting as fat. She might have even ended up at a manageable weight, a place where she could cut back, lose the weight and be thin again.

But there was no going back now.

She had accepted that.

Deep down, she knew she was stuck as a fatty forever as she cradled her great big blubbery belly in her chubby hands. Her slender hands used to run up and down her sexy abs. No more. Just blubber. Just fat. Just a big juciy roll of flab that made itself known no matter what she wore. It wasn’t a belly. It was a gut, a sign of her greed. She had eaten herself fat, turned her food baby permanent and worked it into a roly poly spare tire. She shook it furiously, turning her gut into undulating waves of fat. She let it go and watched as it shook a bit more and then finally settled as a lazy hanging sack of fat. Then she pinched the thick love handles that completed her meaty muffin top and let out a heavy sigh.

As she sighed, her hefty breasts bounced and swung. They had no perkiness to them left, just fat and stretch marks. They had grown to be heavy and a real strain on her fat back, but they hadn’t grown nearly as much as her big belly or her fat ass.

That ass of hers was now a shelf of fat prone to knocking into things and knocking things over. It was the same with her wider hips. She was a tremendously thick girl now with the thunder thighs to prove it and the awkward waddling shuffle that went with being so fat. Even her feet had grown fat enough to force her out of her nicer shoes.

To her, it was all awful. Her body was something that she recognized as her own but she didn’t want it. She would frequently play with her fat and taunt herself, and when the people she knew turned their backs on her, or worse made a point of regularly humiliating her, she told herself she deserved it.

She was everything she had made fun of before. She was gluttonous. She was lazy. She was fat.

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“Fiona the Feedee”

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Fiona couldn’t tell you why she decided to become a feedee. Up until that moment in her life she had had everything going for her. She was a beauty queen, literally, she had won numerous competitions. She had a successful career going as a model. People loved her. They feared her too because she was gorgeous and powerful, and she wielded her vanity as a weapon. She loved to show off her beauty and loved to be petty and catty and taunt and tease anyone that she felt was beneath her. 

And then one day it was like she had an awakening. An awakening that came, ironically, in a dream.

In that dream she was posed in a beautiful green bikini, lounging on a golden throne with a feast set out before her. Her loyal servants, all deliciously plump, began to bring her food. First she would take it and eat it herself, but eventually she began to order her servants to feed her.

Her servants were very good at their jobs.

The feast was delicious as it was endless, and as she ate so she grew. Fiona grew fatter and fatter, her belly blew up like a balloon, her flabby ass raised her from the throne as her chunky cheeks replaced the cushions with their own billowy fat. Her hips and thighs grew thick enough and wide enough to pin her to the throne with her love handles spilling over the armrests. Her arms became pillows of fat, her face grew round and her chins multiplied, and her breasts grew to be positively titanic.

And through it all she kept eating.

And through it all she kept being worshiped.

She loved it all, the worship, the indulgence, the food, the fat.

She needed it to be real.

From that day forward, Fiona began to eat like it was her job. She sought out every possible opportunity to stuff herself which certainly got her some strange looks from her vain friends, but she didn’t give a crap about any of that. She was too focused on truly enjoying her meals for the first time. And then it became not even about just enjoying the food. It was about enjoying the act of eating. It was about the thrill of indulgence and the naughtiness that came with letting go.

Whenever her friends asked her if she really needed a cupcake, she had two. If they questioned why she was getting seconds, she was sure to have thirds. Every meal out with friends included at least one appetizer along with her meal, and there was always room for dessert. If her friends ordered something for the table to share, Fiona would get one of her own, eat it and all and then still eat most of the shared plate. She was a true glutton.

And that gluttony began to show.

Just like in her dream, Fiona’s fabulous abs turned to flab, blubber that she loved to play with, to pinch and knead and jiggle. She grew a great big pot belly that soon turned into a gluttonous gut that rolled into her fat lap. That lap was created by the thick thunder thighs that replaced her previously athletic ones. Her thunder thighs pressed together when she sat, then when she walked, then they became so big that she was forced to waddle about. What a thrilling sensation that was. It was almost as thrilling as the sensation of feeling her fat ass cheeks flap and smack the backs of her thunder thighs.

Fiona’s ass had truly ballooned. It felt like it had its own gravity with its knack for knocking things over. Her ass grew out like a shelf until it was so big that it had no choice but to sag down, and that’s when the thigh slapping happened. Fiona loved it. She loved every inch of flab. She loved every stretch mark and hint of cellulite. She loved it all.

And she needed it to be loved by others.

So along with finding numerous suitors on a variety of feedee centric dating sites, she also set herself up as a fat fetish model. It was something she would have been so disgusted by when she was thinner, but now she needed it. It was a great way to both get the attention she craved and make the money she needed to pay her bills and then some. She became a wildly successful fat fetish model, and it was a dream come true.

Fiona was able to have her cake and eat it too.

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“The Fattening Fairy Ring”

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Gemma had all the luck in the world. She was gorgeous (and vain), she was popular (even if she had a bit of a mean streak), and she had a great job with lots of room for career advancement (which she had gotten and would get by stepping all over other people). Yes, Gemma had it all, looks, friends, money and power. She lived a very charmed life.

Until the day she fell into a circle of mushrooms.

See, Gemma was an active woman. It’s part of what kept her in such great shape (along with a very specific dietary regime and a gifted metabolism for the rare cheat days). So on weekends, especially early in the morning, it was not odd for Gemma to get out into the woods near her house (which had far more rooms than she needed and not even a dog to share it with) and go hiking, taking in the beautiful scenery and pleasant breeze through her luscious hair. It was exhilarating and made her feel alive, especially when she found new places to explore.

And that’s how she found herself falling into a circle of mushrooms.

She had just broken into a clearly and was watching a little bird flying away when she didn’t notice the rock that caught her foot and sent her into the circle. As her pert butt hit the ground and now completely surrounded by the mushrooms, she realized that suddenly everything seemed different. The world was brighter. The mushrooms were bigger.

Then there was the laughter.

“We got another!”

“Yay another one!”

The tiny fairies called out in their stereotypically high pitched and annoying voices.

“Let’s fatten her up!”

“Wait. What?”

Gemma called out to the open air and the response she received in return was the sight of a bunch of previously invisible fairies becoming visible while carrying trays of pastries.

“Give here the fairy cakes!”

“And the fairy cookies!”

“And the fairy Baklava!”

“I don’t eat swee-” 

Before she could even finish her sentence, Gemma found a fairy cake shoved into her mouth. It was light and delicious and extremely fattening.

And it was followed by a second. And a third.

Gemma quickly lost count as she found herself being magically compelled to keep opening her mouth and eating what was fed to her. If anything, she became much more concerned with all the results that the constant eating was causing.

Her hands flew in panic to her trim waistline which was quickly becoming far less trim. Her precious abs (which she was so annoyingly proud of to the point of constantly showing them off) went bye bye. They were quickly gone and replaced with a big fat belly, a big fat belly that kept ballooning, filling up with fat while staying impressively tight and round. Those hands tried to push it back down, but there was nothing that could be done. Instead, she just watched in horror as not only did her gut keep inflating (the skin even sounded like a balloon as it magically stretched) and her slender hands became chubby as well. Hell, those hands were more than just chubby. They were downright fat. Each finger inflated like little balloons stretching like when a clown blows up a balloon to turn them into a big fat balloon dog.

The fat didn’t stop in her tummy and hands. It spread throughout her arms turning them into pillows of fat, big flabby bingo wings replaced her biceps. And the fat filled her ass and thighs as well, turning her from a proud athlete to someone who looked like a lifelong couch potato in a matter of minutes. And as the food just kept coming, Gemma just kept growing.

Her fattened body grew fatter in every way. Her stomach surged further forward and nearly pushed her onto her back as it filled her fat lap. That lap grew fatter as her hips and thighs stretched out. They became like tree trunks but far squishy and pooled out with fat as she fat on the ground. That seat on the ground grew higher as her ass inflated further. Her breasts also blew up like balloons of fat. The fat filled her and stretched her in every direction until she had grown so heavy that she couldn’t fight against gravity anymore. Once her belly grew enough to push her back far enough, her big bloated breasts took over and finished the job send her fat back to the grass and pinning her there, all while she kept getting fed and kept getting fatter.

Soon Gemma was a big fat useless blob, and the fairies couldn’t be happier.

“She’s ready!”

“Hail to our new queen!”

“To GemmaBlob the Corpulent Queen!”

“Hooray! Hooray! A big fat hooray!”

And then the fairies began to roll the fatty away and further into their magic forest. All the while, Gemma had just one thought.

Being a queen, even a fat immoble one, couldn’t be that bad. Right?

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

“Back to Fat Camp”

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

Brad and Marlena were fatties now. They knew that. They had been fit, slim and sexy hotties, popular personal trainers who were vain and mean as hell, and thanks to the gluttony that Thick Burger had unleashed in them, they were now exactly the kind of people they used to make fun of. They were fat and lazy, greedy, gluttonous and slobbish. They were what their thinner selves would have referred to themselves as pigs back when they were thinner.

The two piggies had gotten so plump while stuffing themselves as fat camp counselors, and now that they had lost their jobs as personal trainers due to turning themselves from hard bodies into obese slobs and were now fatter than a lot of their clients they ended up spending most of the year stuck working for the company that had inadvertently (at least in their minds) made them fat in the first place, Thick Burger.

And Thick Burger made them fatter.

They told themselves that they were going to change, that they were going to get their lives and diets back on track. But Brad and Marlena were truly lazy now, and the fact that the long hours they needed to work at Thick Burger to make enough money to pay their bills (including their food bills even outside of the free meals they got from Thick Burger) meant that they barely got in any gym time. And the gym time that they did get was wasted because their once prominent and now atrophied muscles made the little work that they did so sweaty and tiring that they ended up giving up completely. From that point on the empty food containers and dirty dishes piled up and the pounds packed on.

Their bloated bellies featured big bellies, blubber butts and bouncy breasts (yes even for Brad who now sported a big set of man titties where his chiseled pecs once were). They had thunder thighs, and the two hotties who used to love to run were now fatties who were forced to waddle. And come the next summer they had one last life line.

Going back to fat camp.

This time they had the humiliation of being former counselors. And any returning campers who had known them as such were sure to give them plenty of shit about it.

“Hey, look who became the pigs they used to make fun of.”

“Yeah, you’re stuck on the other side with us fatties now, aren’t you?”

“And you’re fatter than a lot of us too!”

“Oink. Oink.”

The only good thing that they had going for them was that they were not the only former counselors turned campers (which meant they weren’t the only ones taking shit), but they were certainly the fattest (which meant they took the most of it).

And then there was the camp itself. The thing is, they were still lazy, and they still knew how to sneak into the counselors mess, and there were plenty of their former colleagues and their former campers who thought it was hilarious to watch the fit counselors turned fat campers get even fatter. So the two were supplied plenty of contraband as they also slacked on their workouts and as a result they were barely losing weight and by the end of the session they had in fact each gained approximately ten pounds.

All the while, the campers around them lost weight (even as many of the counselors gained it), and they were definitely the fattest people at camp. In the end, they were nothing but big fat failures. With their heads hung low and their double chins fully inflated, they waddled off into the sunset.

And then they waddled back to work at Thick Burger.

Sorority Swells! Pitch Your Exclusive Cut Story Ideas + An Update

Hey Everybody,

I think I'm a little late with opening this up, but now is the time to start pitching story ideas for volume 8 of "Fat Trimmings: Exclusive Cuts". This collection is going to be based on the title "Sorority Swells!" This was voted on by patrons like you.

The goal for this collection is to have stories that are somehow all set in the same sorority. I have no idea currently how I want to do that yet, so if anybody has pitches for that, I would love to read them.

Just like with volume 7, at least one of the stories, voted on by you, will get an extended cut that will be exclusive to here while the original gets posted to Deviant Art as an ad for the patreon.

As an update, you can expect that "Fit Friend, Fat Friend" which was voted on by patrons to get an exclusive extended cut will be getting said cut this week. Tomorrow will be "Fat Trimmings" Volume 29 which will include a return to Thick Burger's fat camp. Finally, I am also hoping to have the epilogue to "Nightmare Pigs" finished this week, but that is let's say a stretch goal.

Anyway, thank for your time, and suggest away!

"Becky and Rosina Share a Feast" - An Exclusive Cut

Here's a little spin-off featuring Becky and Rosina from "The Fat Making Notebook Goes to the Beach". It is only a little over 1,000 words, but it is exclusive to this patreon as a thank you for your continued support.

Enjoy!

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Becky had a hazy memory lately. She didn’t know why, and sometimes she worried that it was somehow connected to her glandular problem, but when she started thinking about that too much she would just sort of… stop. It was like her mind went wandering away from what she was thinking about and she would just find herself walking through some mind fog and ending up on the other side thinking about something completely, usually food.

Big Becky loved to eat now. That wasn’t always the case. She was sure of that. But nowadays she couldn’t get enough of eating. Once she got her glandular condition- something she wasn’t still one hundred percent on all the details of- she guessed that she just decided to give up and start eating like a total pig.

That’s what she felt like a lot of the time too, a big fat pig. That’s what she would be calling herself if she was still thin, that and probably a ton of other names like cow and fatso and lard ass. Becky used to love calling fat people names and reminding them of what a waste of space they were. But now that she was taking up a lot more space these days, she was trying to have a much different attitude about things, and if that meant embracing her piggishness a bit then so be it.

And embracing that piggishness was helped by the fact that she had a sweet little submissive piglet of her own.

Rosina had grown quite a bit in what Becky felt must have been a short amount of time, but she couldn’t quite place it. Still, the petite girl was slim and sexy just like Becky once was, at least she was before Becky started feeding her. Now she was so much more.

Becky had always hated fat people. She remembered always finding them to be lazy and greedy and gross. But she loved the rotund Rosina with her voluminous belly and her blubbery butt. She enjoyed running her chubby hands along Rosina’s plush thighs and squeezing her soft yielding flesh. And she enjoyed pushing food on Rosina, although, of course she always ate more- much more.

And that’s what brought her to this moment.

A feast sprawled out on her dining room table, burgers and fries, fried chicken, donuts, and a tub of ice cream waiting for her in the freezer. All of it was procured and prepared for Becky by Rosina, sweet, caring, FAT Rosina.

“You ready to eat, big girl?” Rosina said with a smile as she rubbed Becky’s big blubbery belly.

“Three burgers?”

“Two for you, one for me.”

“You take the biggest one. I don’t want you wasting away.”

“Whatever you say.”

“That’s right… piggy.”

“Oink. Oink.”

Becky and Rosina dug in. The burgers were everything they promised to be, delicious, juicy, greasy, and fattening. They could feel the grease running down their multiple chins and dripping into their cleavage as they tore into the burgers as fast as they could, stuffing them in their fat faces so they could move on to the fried chicken as quickly as possible.

“You should be eating faster,” said Becky as soon as she was done with her first burger. It was a point she emphasized with a loud very unladylike burp, something she certainly never would have done when she was thinner.

“I’m still learning,” replied Rosina before letting out a little burp of her own.

“Well, learn faster. I want you fatter and getting fatter means eating more, and eating more is easier when you do it faster.”

Becky tore into her second burger, and Rosina did as she was told, practically shoving the rest of her burger into her mouth, pushing what she could in and cramming her cheeks full. 

“Thash beffer,” said Becky with her mouth full of greasy burger.

Rosina finished her burger before Becky finished her second and let loose a victorious burp.

“You think you’re done, piggy?” said Becky with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t think so. You better get started on that fried chicken, and there are still plenty of french fries left.”

Rosina, the formerly bitchy skinny hot girl turned submissive feedee dutifully did as she was told and shoved a handful of hot and salty french fries into her mouth before going to town on the fried chicken. She tore into the chicken and sent crumbs into her cleavage as she did so. Becky just responded to Rosina’s dutiful piggishness with a nod of approval before going back to working her way through the rest of the burger.

She was done with that burger in short order, and from there it became a race to see who could eat the most fried chicken out of the bucket. Rosina had a bit of a head start, but Becky was clearly the more practiced of the two. Rosina tried to keep ahead, but as it got close to the end of the bucket, it was clear that Becky was catching up and poised to take the lead. By the time there was one last piece in the bucket, their piles of sucked cleaned bones were dead even. As the two hungry pigs stared down at the last piece in the bucket, they both knew there was only one thing to do.

Fight for it.

Their fat arms clawed at the chicken. Bingo wings wobbled as they each grasped that last wing in their chubby hands. Finally, in a display of her dominance, Becky ripped the last piece of chicken out of Rosina’s hand and demolished it in seconds leaving Rosina to settle for some of the oily skin that had fallen off in the struggle.

After indulging in a victorious burp, Becky moved right along to the donuts. She snorted like an angry pig at Rosina as a way of ordering her feedee to get to eating some donuts, and as ordered Rosina dug in. The donuts did not last very long, and by the time they were done, Becky and Rosina’s fat faces were covered in powder and icing and cream and jelly. 

Becky and Rosina spent several moments afterward burping and nodding in satisfaction before Becky looked at her feedee with renewed hunger in her eyes.

“Good job, piggy. Now go get us that ice cream, and you better be eating it right out of the tub when you’re coming back in here.”

“Oink. Oink.”

Rosina hopped to her feet as quickly as her big overfull belly would allow, and headed toward the kitchen.

Becky gave Rosina a smack to her broad backside as she waddled by and then sat back with her chubby hands resting on her tight yet blubbery belly and a wide smile on her big fat food covered face.

"The Fat Making Notebook Goes to the Beach" - EXCLUSIVE EXTENDED CUT!

Here it is, my attempted Empire Strikes Back (with nowhere near the quality or fanafre of that masterpiece). Over 8,300 words. This exclusive cut is over 2,700 words longer than version I'll be releasing on Deviant Art.

Enjoy!

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

Wouldn’t you love to have a notebook that made people fat at the beach? Imagine those tight beach bodies blossoming with fat.

The beach was not normally the kind of place Asami liked to go. Being a rather heavy set girl, the beach did not hold fond memories for her. It was usually the kind of place where she felt self-conscious due to a combination of her own insecurities and the judgmental stares of others.

But with the notebook in hand, she suddenly felt a lot more confident. And there was something in the air that made it feel like the beach was really calling her name. And once she got there it didn’t take her long to find someone worthy of changing.

The parking lot was hot, and Asami had to admit that some of the people she saw there were even hotter. There were plenty of eager hardbodies ready to work on their tans and show off their beautiful beach bodies.

Asami saw two vain women in sun hats posing for selfies and used her notebook to make it so their sarongs were stretched tight across their bloated bodies. They went from being bikini babes to body positivity influencers with big blubbery asses and thick buttery thighs. When they were done angling themselves for the perfect selfie, their double chins were much more evident and their sucked in bellies stopped being sucked in which put even more strain on their sarongs. They picked up their things and started to waddle toward the beach. Asami enjoyed the way she could see their booties bounce as they did so.

Next, a random blonde who had already shown up with a bikini and no other covering, found herself with a generous pot belly on display, suddenly so self conscious about the pounds that she had put on that she turned to walk back to her car and give up the whole thing. On the way there, she ran into a redhead who called her chubby, and soon found herself being very pear shaped with especially chunky cellulite covered cheeks for her trouble. After that, she was all about encouraging the blonde to embrace her figure, and the two became fast friends. The two headed down to the beach together with their newly flabby bodies on full display.

After that, Asami spied a vain looking couple, a slim and sexy brunette and her muscular boyfriend who was trying to show off by carrying all of their beach equipment in one go. Asami decided to take care of that.

“The brunette will get chubby and her boyfriend will become too fat and weak to carry all of the stuff by himself. They will think they’ve always been like this.”

The brunette chubbed up quickly, gaining fat all over a growing the standard squishy pot belly, soft sagging ass and chunky thunder thighs combination along with some larger softer breasts, flabbier arms and a slightly puffier face with the hint of a double chin. Her boyfriend grew much fatter. His muscles became lost, buried under pounds and pounds of fat. Her grew a prodigious belly and a set of thunder thighs that had him waddling as he struggled to carry the chair, and umbrella, and cooler all in his weak, flabby arms. His fat face was flushed, and his double chin was wobbling as he struggled. His proud pecs were deflated and became big saggy man boobs that jiggled as he tried to keep himself going only to eventually drop everything.

His girlfriend rolled her eyes at how weak and pathetic his fat ass looked, and then she helped him carry the stuff to the beach.

Asami followed after them.

As Asami tried to find herself a spot, she came across one of the models from work who frequently loved to come to this beach to be admired and to work on their tans. Estella was clearly just finishing setting up her own little spot, and Asami could see a gaggle of admirers failing at pretending not to be looking at her. Estella, the bikini clad babe, didn’t care about them though as she happened to cast her judgmental gaze over at Asami.

“Oh. Asami, isn’t it? You’re here? Ugg. You know. They really shouldn’t let plus-sized porkers like you be at the beach.”

Asami rolled her eyes and kept walking, but she also kept writing in her notebook.

“After letting herself go over the last six months, Estella is now transitioning to becoming a full-time plus-sized model in a desperate attempt to restore her career, and she’s very self-conscious about it.”

Asami didn’t need to look to know what happened next.

Before Estella’s firm butt even hit the ground, it was now bloated and blubbery. Her chunky cheeks wobbled as they hit the sand, and her thunder thighs quivered and slapped together as well. Estella was now a plus-sized porker herself clad in a one piece swimsuit that was being eaten by her growing ass in back and strained by her pudgy pot belly in front. The fabric was stretched by the gut that had replaced Estella’s six pack abs. And fat in the form of thick love handles spilled out the cut out sides of the one piece suit giving her a very unflattering look. Her entire flabby body shook as she sat and tried to finish putting sunscreen on herself. It wasn’t easy with her new belly getting in the way.

Estella’s thighs had grown thick and spongy and took a lot of photoshopping to get rid of the cellulite when she was given some plus-sized swimwear suits that she was still feeling uncomfortable about taking. Up until a short while ago, she would have made fun of people her size. Hell, it wasn’t until a few short weeks ago when she tore an evening dress on a shoot that she had officially blossomed past someone capable of being a traditional model. The laughter and name calling from the colleagues she used to cattily look down upon still haunted her. Not even an emergency trip to the craft services table where she stuffed her face full of deli meats could ease her pain.

Estella thought she was going to be fired for sure, but instead she was just moved to being a plus-sized model full time. She hated being a plus-sized model. Estella had always considered plus-sized models to be lazy and desperate, but here she was now lazy and desperate. She couldn’t get a handle on her appetite, and working out just wasn’t working out for her. If she wanted to stay in the industry she had to give up on ever being thin again and stick to being thick. Plus-size modeling didn’t pay as well, but it did pay the bills.

She could feel the eyes on her now, not nearly as many as she was used to, and she could tell that the ones that were looking at her were looking at her with the judgment that she had always given others. They were thinking what she was thinking, that she was a pathetic porker now. It was making her uncomfortable.

Speaking of uncomfortable, Estella had to lift a chunky cheek and adjust herself, pulling out a wedgie that was forming. It was yet another of a thousand small humiliations since she had put on weight. While she was trying to embrace some form of body positivity with her new career move, she also knew that she had to be careful. She had heard tales of plenty of women just like her whose weight had crept up into the realm of the plus-sized model and then shot past it until there was no modeling left to be done but fetish modeling, and she certainly didn’t want to end up like that.

As Estella sat back down again, her chubbier hands rested on her bloated pot belly. She cupped it and then gave it a dissatisfied squeeze and a frustrated shake. It rumbled in response. Hunger, it was something she used to fight so well, but now she needed to give in. She reached into her beach bag and pulled out a bag of potato chips, and not just a snack sized one. And she began to munch away with her new double chin forming as she did so. Between handfuls of chips she let out a sigh because she knew the sad truth.

This was her life now.

She was a tall and tan beauty with long dark hair. And she was with a short squat woman who didn’t look like a family member but who the raven haired beauty wasn’t treating like a friend. She was just so snide, showing off her body and insulting the other woman.

Asami decided that it would be fun to make the show off one the fat friend, and while she couldn’t make the fat friend thinner, she could certainly make the thin friend far fatter.

“The slim woman with dark hair is going to gain weight until her bikini barely fits her. Everyone will think she just hasn’t realized how much weight she’s gained until just now. She will continue to gain weight over the next six months and always be at least fifty pounds heavier than the other woman she’s with while never losing weight.”

The tanned and toned woman kept her tan, but her tone began to disappear as her abs turned to flab. Her trim tummy began to bulge out into a big bouncing paunch with thick love handles that spilled over the edges of her bikini bottoms. It was a delicious muffin top that sprung out in all directions and flopped with flab. Those same bottoms became greatly taxed by the widening of her hips and the thickening of her thighs.

Those thighs grew sudden saddlebags and she looked rather outrageous as she strut about still trying to pose, blissfully unaware of the way her new flab was moving, especially as her spongy belly grew bigger and bounced up and down like it was full of jelly. As she swung her widening hips, her growing ass swung along. It had its own rhythm as it filled with soft blubber. She had planned to hit her usual perfect pose with a simple pop of her pert butt, but now her chunky ass bounced quite a bit more than she was used to and almost threw her off balance. She nearly tripped over her fat feet and landed with her plump butt in the hot sand, but at the last moment she managed to catch herself and stop from falling though her thunder thighs kept quivering for a few moments more, and her belly had quite a bit of additional wobble to it, shaking like jello on a plate.

Every bit of her was softer. Her breasts grew soft and saggy and filled her bikini top. While previously pert and perky, they were now massive undulating melons that bounced about as they moved. They would have been quite distracting if she hadn’t grown such a large doughy and dominating pot belly. Her gut had grown to be quite sizable, plush with pudge. Although she maintained her tan, her lower half was also clearly covered with cellulite. They were thick, very squeezable thighs that had closed her thigh gap and were threatening to turn her into a classic waddling fat girl any day now. She certainly wasn’t going to be able to strut about the beach as easily with her new heavier body. She was still getting used to all the weight and seemed to have become one clumsy chunker.

The original chubby friend, who was in a much more flattering swimsuit, couldn’t help but chuckle at the display that her newly chunky friend was putting on and at the sideways glances she was receiving because of it. There were more than a few rude stares and disgusted whispers as people who would have admired her just a few moments ago now mocked the new little oinker who was putting on quite the humiliating show.

Seeing that she wasn’t getting the kind of attention she wanted. The newly pudgy porker snorted and looked down at her sunbathing friend. This look downward made her slight double chin all the more prominent.

“I’m bored and hungry. Let’s go get some ice cream.”

“Okay, but you better be careful. You eat too much ice cream and you’re gonna bust out of that suit,” snickered the friend.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ve been gaining weight like crazy. Jeez. I may be kinda hefty, but you’re getting downright FAT.” The chubby friend stressed this point by sticking her finger deep into her formerly thin friend’s pudgy pot belly before sliding her thumb underneath the thick roll of fat and giving it a hard pinch.

“Ugg! Shut up. Now you’re buying the ice cream.”

“Fine with me, blubber butt,” she laughed as she gave her friend a smack on the ass and allowed her chubby hand to really sink into the chunk and give it a good squeeze.

Asami could tell that this chubby girl was really reveling in her once thin friend packing on the pounds and becoming the fatter of the two. She hoped that the karmic revenge would be even sweeter than the ice cream they were about to share.

As the two wandered off to fill their tubby tummies with ice cream, Asami watched both of their flabby butts bounce. She noticed with joy just how much wider, saggier and bouncier that formerly thin girl’s was. She was pleased with the knowledge that the raven haired former beauty queen would soon be waddling about stuffing her fat face with snacks. And Asami was filled with a hunger of her own, the hunger to find more people to punish.

With her gaze traveling across the beach, it wasn’t long before she found her next prey-

A trio of lifeguards.

The lifeguards were gorgeous. They looked just like they stepped out of baywatch. They were buxom and toned, slim and sexy even in their bright red one piece swimsuits. They somehow managed to make those look glamorous, and everything they did looked effortless as they ran along the beach, not to save anyone but to show off. They knew exactly what they were doing. They knew the heads that were turning and the eyes that were following them, and they loved it.

Behind them trotted a very slim but muscular male lifeguard who clearly loved to show off his sculpted torso complete with well defined pecs and chiseled abs. He also looked like he could have been running ahead of the female lifeguards if he wasn’t purposefully hanging back and enjoying the view.

“None of this will do,” thought Asami as she once again began to write in her notebooks.

“The lifeguards here will all get very fat and think they’ve always been that way. Although they will be very fat, they will remain incredibly fit and able to easily rescue anyone who needs it.”

Asami figured that would cover all her bases. She wasn’t a monster after all.

The steps the lifeguards took while still strong and smooth were now kicking up a lot more sand as their fat feet struck the ground. Each step was like a mini-earthquake and the big fat lifeguards plopped along. Their fat flabby bodies quivered, and while they had grown even more muscle mass to support their bodies, they had all clearly gained far more fat.

The ladies had thunderous thighs and were positively earning their name as they slapped together. Their flabby ass cheeks, covered in cellulite also bobbed and clapped together with each tremendous step. In front they had huge flabby bellies and bulging balloons for breasts. It was through sheer force of will that they were still able to cut through the water fast enough to save people, but they always did even as they regularly spilled out of their swimsuits while doing so.

The male lifeguard’s flabby torso was on full display with an equally large spare tire and a pair of saggy man boobs that moved to their own rhythm. His moobs were definitely big enough to consider getting a sports bra for some much needed support. But of course he was too proud for that. Instead he just let everything hang out and, in the case of his big blubber belly, over the waistband of his ill fitting swim shorts. 

Asami watched the lifeguards turned land whales continue on their way and was very pleased indeed, please that is until she saw another unfortunate sight.

Becky and Rosina had a knack for following Asami through life. They had been high school bullies, then college bullies, and because the three of them had all stuck around the same general area, they had a nasty tendency to show up at some of the same places and immediately resume their bullying ways.

“Thar she blows, Asami the land whale,” snarked Becky who had always been the leader of the too with Rosina serving as her loyal stooge.

“Oink. Oink, piggy.” snorted Rosina.

The two were glamorous bikini babes who loved to show off their figures and put down others. Becky was especially adept at it.

“You absolute sea cow. We should roll you back into the ocean where you belong. You’re just a sad, fat, lazy, piggish creature. You’re disgusting.”

At an earlier time in her life, these remarks would have made Asami cry, but she was past all that now. She was more mature, more confident.

And she had the notebook.

So Asami just waited for Becky and Rosina to finish having their fun and then go on their way.

“What nothing to say? Cat got your fat tongue? Huh? Huh? You gonna- you gonna cry now? Or…”

Asami just stared up at Becky without blinking.

“Well… well… you’re still a fat loser. Let’s go Rosina. We don’t want to catch her fat.”

And as soon as Becky and Rosina turned and took a step away, Asami got to writing.

“Becky developed a glandular problem two years ago and is now incredibly obese but still dresses like she did when she was slim.”

Becky started growing a big backside. Her previously plump but pert butt grew plump, quickly surpassing the luscious stage and filling with fat to the point of losing anything recognizable as muscle definition. Her overripe peach grew mushy and dimpled with cellulite as it swallowed up her bikini bottoms completely. The flabby cheeks slapped together as they grew fatter and fatter. They were two thick cushions overstuffed with fluff, and they just kept growing bigger and bigger.

Those ass cheeks had been Becky’s pride and joy. Becky Buns people had called her, and it was an apt name because they were so thick but also hardened with muscle, but now her new nickname would have to be Becky Blubber Butt. Each soft, saggy cheek would take two hands just to try and hold them, and the fat would still ooze through the fingers and over the sides. The blubber butt cheeks could not be contained. From now on Becky would be doomed to the classic fat girl outfits of stretched out dresses and stretchy leggings because pants without an extreme amount of give were going to be absolutely off limits for her fat ass. There would be no pair of jeans safe from the breaking because of those blubbery buns. 

Her chunky cheeks continued to wobble, undulating with the fat that kept filling them, loose from lack of muscle and filled with nothing but flab. They were now the kind of adipose filled ass cheeks that quivered with even the slightest movement and kept moving on their own once all other movement had stopped. 

The thighs were the next to thicken, to fill with loose wobbling fat. They grew thick with blubber and became trembling thunder thighs. The fat that filled her legs and atrophied her muscles quivered just like her ass cheeks. First she grew thick heavy saddle bags, and then her thigh gap was filled as her thick thighs grew inward until they touched, kissing gently at first before they smushed together, soft tissue pressing together hard enough to push her legs outward. Her cellulite covered thunder thighs were two thick drumsticks that kept growing fatter. With no sign of stopping, her thighs grew thicker and her stance grew wider.

Becky used to be a runner, not professionally by any means. She certainly wasn’t training for the Olympics or even a personal best in a 5K. But she loved to run in the mornings, around her neighborhood or on the treadmill at the gym. She planned her vacations around places that had scenic views for when she ran. Becky especially loved running on the beach, the challenge of pushing herself in the sand. It was all a thrill, a thrill that she would never be able to feel again. 

Now Becky was doomed to waddle across the sand like an overheated penguin, out of place amongst the hardbodies (just like she used to be) and even the more casual beach goers, Becky had already grown comically obese, extra comically so because so far she had only grown down below. Her big fat ass and tree trunk thighs now made her look like a cartoon character because of how wildly out of proportion she was, bulbous butt and tremendous thighs stuck between dainty ankles and feet and the rest of her trim body up above.

But at least one of those things changed quickly. Her ankles were no longer dainty as they swelled with fat and merged with her ankles two form solid cankles. Her feet swelled as well, developing thick sausage toes and widening as the fat filled them. With those fat feet and her thighs forcing her to waddle, her running days were definitely gone forever.

Becky's cartoonishly shaped figure would only remain that way for a little while longer as the fat began to make its way upward and fill out the rest of her figure.

The next thing to go was her belly, which lost all muscle definition and began to balloon outward with fat. Without the abdominal muscles she had taken so much pride in to support it, Becky’s belly quickly began to sag over the edge of her bikini bottom quickly joined by the love handles that formed at her side. Her trim, tapered waist became a barrel of fat, a mushy muffin top that oozed over the sides of the bikini. Those bikini bottoms, now engulfed by fat at all angles, became like string tied to a ham. They dug into her flesh and from multiple angles were completed obscured by the folds of fat that flopped over them.

Becky had loved to show off her abs. It was the whole reason she was here in a bikini, to flaunt her hard work and hard body. She knew she was slim and sexy and having a six pack like hers was the epitome of being slim and sexy. And now she had a big fat kegger, a doughy mass hanging out in front to match her double wide dumper of a rear. As the fat kept pumping into her gut, it stretched out further, gaining the appropriate bright red marks, and jiggled like jello free from its mold as was Asami had seen happen to so many others. Eventually, Becky’s blubber belly gained so much mass that it split into to distinct rolls of doughy fat, becoming not just a pot belly, a gut, or even a spare tire, but an immense quivering double belly that turned her from looking like the epitome of slim and sexy to the epitome of gluttony.

Her gluttonous gut became an apron of fat. It perfectly mirrored her broken down shelf of a fat ass and evened out her fat distribution quite a bit. Of course, that fat distribution was not yet done.

Becky’s breasts became billowy pillows, quivering mounds of flesh that threatened to overwhelm her bikini top as they surged forward and sagged down, hanging like saggy pillowy pendulums. Her previously perky breasts were now bloated udders, marked by angry stretchmarks and jiggling at the slightest of motions. The fat mounds of flesh made for some impressive cleavage as the mighty mounds fought against the bikini top.

And the fat did not stop there, it took over her arms getting rid of the hard earned biceps and turning them into flabby bingo wings. She grew arms so filled with fat that the soft flab rolled over her fat elbows. Her wrists grew chunky, and even her hands grew fat with thick clumsy fingers to go with her sausage toes down below.

Working out had always been a passion of Becky’s. She loved going to the gym. And she loved the way her arms were toned, and even if her breasts weren’t as big as some other people, she knew that they were the perfect size and had the perkiness they needed to turn heads while not making workouts exceedingly difficult for her. Now, even if the rest of her had allowed working out to be a thing, the massive size of her heaving bosom would have prevented such a thing. She could already feel the twinges in her fat back from standing too long. And her arms were now flabby and useless, barely capable of lifting any significant weights, they were much more suited for simply moving massive amounts of food from her plate to her face so that she could stuff herself with it and ease the pain in her greedy gut.

The last part of Becky’s body to bloat up was her face. She lost the angular cheekbones and well defined but slender chin and instead grew flabby jowls and a doughy double chin that wobbled just like the rest of her. Even her nose seemed to get fatter, and her previously model quality face now looked far more piggish. She looked like a woman who didn’t know how to say no to a good meal, or any meal, or snack for that matter. She had the face of someone who was a constant grazer and yet couldn’t help but stuff herself when it was time to settle down for a meal.

Becky had always prided herself on her self-control, on her dedication to both working out and her diet, but those days were gone. Now that she had her glandular problem, she had given up, embraced being a pig and just went with it. Her snacks were what others would consider meals. Her meals were feasts. This was her life, and while there were many times when she felt disgusted by herself, she knew that she had no choice but to make the best of it. That’s why she threw herself into heavy hedonism and stopped caring about what people thought of her as she waddled about in her tiny bikini still trying to cling to some remnant of her past self when she was slim and sexy and had all of the confidence in the world. Of course, on some days like this, people like Rosina were making her feel more regretful than usual.

“You really are a disgusting pig now, you absolute beached whale. It’s pathetic how you could just give up like this.” Rosina really dug in to Becky. And as she dug in with her words she also reached out with both hands and grabbed the lower roll of Becky’s double belly giving it a shake.

“I mean, just look at this blubber. You’ve got a real pig gut. Disgusting.”

Becky’s face flushed with embarrassment as Rosina kept slapping her flabby gut and causing her fat flesh to undulate.

“To think, I once used to look up to you and admire you for your beauty. Now you’re just a manatee. You should be disgusted with yourself because you’re disgusting.”

Rosina continued her torment by pinching Becky’s meaty love handles. This brought tears to Becky’s eyes and officially meant that Asami had seen enough.

While Asami certainly wanted Becky to feel a lifetime of humiliation, it didn’t seem right that Rosina would get to be the one to so strongly doll it out without punishment.

“I think it’s time for you to be a lackey again,” thought Asami as she started to write in her notebook.

“After seeing Becky get fat because of her condition, Rosina realized she also wanted to become a big girl and is now Becky’s loyal and submissive feedee.”

Asami had decided that while she wanted Rosina to become a round little fatty, she still wanted Beck to be the bigger of the two, and she figured that this would ensure that.

And it sure did.

Just like Becky, Rosina started to balloon. It started with her butt. Her rump grew rounder but lost its firmness becoming a mushy pair of chunky cheeks that was also swallowing her bikini bottoms just like Becky’s even more massive ass was doing. Rosina’s rump was cushiony and covered in cellulite just like her blossoming thighs. Those thighs grew thick and lost muscles becoming chubby thunder thighs that didn’t quite have Rosina waddling about yet but gave every indication that that was in her future. The chunky flesh slapped together with every step she took, and the rest of her body jiggled along as well.

Rosina had been as blessed with big breasts as Becky had, instead hers had to settle for getting only moderately bigger but far saggier. It was an unflattering look in her biking top which strained against the sagging breasts. Her arms also got flabby, easily losing all of her muscle definition. Though the fat didn’t roll over her elbows like Becky’s did, Rosina still possessed some sizable bingo wings. They were fabulously flabby limbs far weaker than they used to be. She didn’t even have to do as much food lifting as Becky since, when she was around Becky, Becky often enjoyed feeding Rosina directly. And Rosina was a good little piggy, happy to put whatever Becky gave her in her mouth.

And that mouth was a part of a much rounder face than before. Rosina had grown chubby cheeks and a prominent double chin, but the most prominent part of Rosina’s fatter body was her ponderous pot belly. That belly had expanded outward from what used to be a flat and tightly muscled stomach, and it was now a soft spongy bit of fat that was rolling over her bikini bottoms just as Becky and Rosina liked it. They had put a lot of work into turning Rosina from the stereotypical hottie that she was into the hefty girl that she was now. But Rosina wanted so much more. She couldn’t explain it, but sometimes she really wished that she had Becky’s glandular problem, that she could so easily become such an incredible whale of a woman. But instead she just had to admire Becky’s beauty and be thankful that Becky allowed her to stay close enough to worship her blubber while feeding her, turning her into a fabulous fatty just like her.

Asami watched as Becky took out a sandwich from her beach bag and held it in front of Rosina’s face. As Rosina tried to take a bite of it, Becky pulled it away.

“Uh uh uh. Who’s my good little pig?” Becky teased.

“I am. I’m your good little piggy,” Rosina said as she clapped her chubby hands together excitedly.

“And good little piggies do what?”

“Oink. Oink oink oink oink. I’m a good little piggy. Oink. Oink.”

Becky finally gave Rosina a bite of the sandwich before taking another much bigger bite herself. The routine continued, with Rosina oinking and then biting into the sandwich and Becky taking one or two bigger bites for herself until the entire thing was gone, and Becky finished with a big smack to Rosina’s broad ass.

“Good piggy. Now let’s go get some sun and work up your appetite some more.”

Asami watched the two feedees waddle away to find a spot to lay in the sun and undoubtedly eat some more, and she felt pleased that she had once again done good work, important work, work that added some karmic balance to the universe and made things better, and it also made her hungry, this time for real food.

Watching the display put on by Becky and Rosina had spurred her own appetite, and Asami decided that she had earned herself some ice cream, and decided to take a stroll down the boardwalk to get some and transform some more people along the way.

It didn’t take Asami very long at all to find people on the boardwalk perfect for transforming. As soon as she stepped onto it and turned to walk in the direction of the ice cream cart, she found a pair of women with long impressively toned legs and heart shaped asses in thong bikinis leaning on the railing with their perky butts out as they surveyed the scene before them.

So obviously Asami made those tight butts into sponges of fat and blew up their thighs until they were chunky and covered in cellulite. It was fun to watch them panic once they noticed what had happened. They couldn’t explain why their lower halves were suddenly so hefty, and immediately turned on each other. The two vain women threw a variety of insults at each other, insulting each other’s figures while blaming the other person for why their own figure was out of whack. It was quite the sight as the big bootied bikini babes continued to argue, but of course, Asami didn’t have time to watch for much longer. She had ice cream to get and others to transform.

The next people she found were a couple roller skating down the boardwalk dressed in neon crop tops like they were pretending to be Barbie and Ken while showing off their gorgeous bodies. Asami couldn’t have that, so she got to writing again and by the time the couple skated past her they were significantly heavier. But of their athletic bodies were no more and they were extremely fat and sweaty, clearly winded from the extra exertion it took to move their fat butts along even with the aid of roller-skates. Asami watched them pull over with their hands on their fat knees as they sucked the air trying to catch their breath. Their flabby bodies spilled out of their clothes with sweaty flesh quivering with the slightest movements.

“Serves them right being so arrogant,” thought Asami as she kept moving along.

Asami didn’t stop and transform every stereotypically hot person she saw on her way to the ice cream cart. One, she figured she would run out of ideas and that would be boring. Two, she doubted that everyone deserved punishment just because they were beautiful. And three, she really wanted to get to the ice cream cart for a delicious mint chocolate chip ice cream sundae and didn’t want to spend too much time constantly stopping and writing.

But every once and a while the perfect targets kept coming up.

For instance, Asami saw two muscle bound men, real jerks who were catcalling women who were walking by. Asami just knew she had to do something about that.

“The two musclebound jerks catcalling women will become weak fat boys who are too self-conscious about their fat flabby bodies to ever catcall anyone again or give much thought to how they got this way.”

In an instant the two jerks were transformed. Their muscles melted away and became folds of flab that were then inflated by fat. Their abs became big fat bellies, and their muscular pecs became so inflated with fatty tissue that they now possessed big jiggling man titties large enough to make some women jealous. They were saggy and bouncy as the rest of their bodies inflated further. Their thick muscular arms became scrawny and then thick again but this time with weak useless fat. They filled with fat and became pathetic flabby limbs that matched their weak flabby legs which were now thick thunder thighs that made them waddle. For men, they became surprisingly hippy as their asses grew fat enough to start to split the backs of their shorts.

Once the shorts started ripping, that’s when the fat boys took their cue to leave. Red faced and jiggly, the shirtless men try to cover up both their exposed backsides and their swinging moobies all while numerous people laughed at them and shouted cruel names in their direction.

They would never be bold enough to bother another woman again. Asami was sure of that. And she gave some of the meaner hecklers some juicy pot bellies of their own to walk away with for good measure before continuing her sojourn.

One woman along the way had plenty of room to go around Asami and yet decided to shoulder her anyway before snarking about Asami’s size, so Asami used the notebook to make the slender woman much wider. She specifically filled the woman’s ass and thighs with fat and gave her some real hippo hips to make her constantly prone to hitting door frames and people and knocking things over. Her big butt was now doomed to be the butt of many jokes. That moment of small cruelty had earned her a lifetime of embarrassment. Asami loved delivering big fat doses of that kind of karma.

There was just one last person Asami felt compelled to change before she got to the ice cream cart.

This blonde woman wasn’t one of the models that Asami worked with, but she looked like she could be. She was laid out on a bench, resplendent as if she was daring people to admire her and take her picture. She looked so relaxed, so lazy. And lazy people often get fat. Asami didn’t think it would be fair for her to be lazy and slim when so many hardworking people that she would likely make fun of were fat. So Asami decided to change that.

The blonde got a large sloshing belly that slumped to the side, a turgid mass of fat. And she got weak flabby legs, pasty thunder thighs to demonstrate her lack of movement, and to go with it she got a great big couch potato ass. As she yawned like a fat cat in the sun, her doughy double chin was clearly visible. It was a good dose of big fat justice, and it left Asami eager for some ice cream.

When she got to the ice cream cart, Asami found that she had arrived just in time to see the formerly thin woman from earlier and her chubby friend just finishing up their ice cream and walking back toward the beach. The chubby friend was finishing one small cone whereas the now rather fat friend had just polished off her second and was now cramming the cones into her mouth. Asami couldn’t help but chuckle as she got in line eager to buy her own ice cream.

Luckily for Asami, there were only four other people in the line, and they seemed to be ordering in pairs. There was a set of twins, some real bodacious bikini babes, and a slim mother with her rather hefty adult daughter who were in the process of ordering.

“You should at least try to pick out something low fat, dear,” scolded the mother.

“Mom, I’m in college. Get off my ass,” responded the daughter with a sharp amount of snark and an eyeroll.

“I’ll get off your ass when it’s a lot less fat. It’s shameful to have a daughter your size. People look at me like ‘How could you raise such a cow?’ and I can’t stand it.”

And Asami couldn’t stand it anymore either. Luckily she knew exactly how to make the mother far less judgmental.

“The mother has always been fat and has a real sweet tooth.”

Just like that, the previously slim mother porked up, plumping past the chubby face then into full fledged fatness before settling comfortably in the realm of the obese. Her sweet tooth was obvious by the roundness of her face. It had a really doughy quality to it complete with the requisite jowls and double chin. Her cheeks were spongy, and she looked like a fat and lazy chipmunk.

Of course, the fat didn’t end with her face. She had a fat neck and shoulders that then led to fat arms consisting of flabby bingo wings. Her breasts had grown far larger and heavier and were now a much more prominent feature of her fatter figure since they were far larger than the petite ones she used to have when she was skinny. They had quite a bit of sway to them as they sagged downward thanks to their weight and age.

Even more prominent than her pendulous breasts was her ponderous pot belly. Her gut had grown round and spherical and stuck out as if it were trying to spit in the face of gravity. It was a huge thing that would have gotten her easily mistaken for pregnant were it not for her age.

Her hips grew wider and her thighs grew thick enough to push together, and her ass grew outward into a big shelf of fat just like her belly. All told, she was a rather massive woman clad in a skintight sundress that showed off every roll and fold of her fat body.

Asami’s work had some unintended consequences as she found that making it so that the mother was always fat meant that her daughter was now significantly heavier as well. She had already been rather fat, but now she was a great big blob of blubber. Asami shrugged her shoulders at this.

“At least they have something to bond over and seem a lot happier,” Asami mused to herself as she watched the mother and daughter each get two ice creams and begin to happily gobble them down.

Then she heard the laughter of the twins, and it was infuriating again. She glared at them with their perfect bodies and their heads full of vanity and arrogance. 

“They’ll let any pigs on the beach.”

“Land whales really.”

“This place is just crawling with fatties today.”

“Disgusting. They should keep all that blubber hidden.”

“I’m surprised all that bacon isn’t sizzling in this heat.”

“They’re grotesque.”

“Fat and lazy and stupid.”

“Greedy cows.”

Asami had had more than enough and opened up her notebook once more. Since she got the feeling that this was likely to be her last transformation of the day, (She did wish to enjoy her ice cream and the sun at some point without distraction after all.) she decided to make it a doozy.

“The two twins will become incredibly obese blobs of fat who barely fit into the bikinis that they insist on wearing. They will become fat and lazy and greedy with a hopeless addiction to ice cream. And the only thing they will think of when they realize how fat they’ve gotten is that they’ve done this to themselves and that they need more food.”

The first thing that grew were their breasts. The twins each had their twins begin to pulse with fat. Their perky breasts were soon mounds of undulating flesh and the fat began to fill them like water filling a balloon. They swelled outward as far as they could before they could resist the tug of gravity no longer. Both of the twins could feel their heavy breasts beginning to sag, but they were too busy eating their ice cream to do anything about it. Their heaving chests began to fight against their bikini tops. Both women kept mindlessly eating as quivering flesh began to spill out from over and under the bikini tops. It was a wonder of science (and magic) that the twins’ breasts managed to be contained at all.

Anyone really watching and paying attention would have to wonder if it was only a matter of time before the tops burst completely.

As the twins aggressively ate their strawberry ice cream with reckless abandon, the sweet treat began to drip down their chins before landing in globs on their massive mounds, splattering on their breasts, covering their chests in cream and then running further and disappearing into their cavernous cleavage. The twins licked their ice cream in an identical rhythm and as the drops fell to the breasts and painted the tops of their bosoms like Jackson Pollock paintings, it was like looking at a person and their reflection with both of the twins awaiting chests taking it at the same time.

Both pairs of breasts continued to balloon to absolutely outrageous proportions that would have put glamor models to shame if it were for the bright red stretch marks that also came to marr the bowling ball sized bazookas. Their breasts were huge and sagging downward lacking any meaningful support from their bikini tops. Luckily for the two bikini babes, some support would finally come from an unexpected place.

That place was their bellies which began to bloom, rising like dough and sagging over their bikini bottoms but also filling fast enough and pushing outward enough to act as a fat shelf for their massive mammaries. The twins had possessed such trim waists with six pack abs worthy of being shown off, but those abs quickly disappeared under a wave of fat that pushed them outward and down. Their bellies grew quickly pausing only for a moment in each stage. They stretched, then paused, then surged, then stretched, then paused, then surged in a repeating pattern of fattening. They were starter bellies at first, and as they neared the edge of that, they surged forward again into pot bellies, then into big flabby guts, and then into spare tires before surging forward again and segmenting into gelatinous double bellies.

The twins’ blubbery bellies shook as the fat filled them, and swayed as the girls threw their entire bodies into aggressively slurping down their ice cream. The melted strawberry ice cream ran like a river through their canyons of cleavage only to emerge on the other side, climb the slope to the dome of their bellies and then ran back down until it reached the crease where their bellies segmented into two thick and distinct rolls. Undeterred, the strawberry ice cream filled those creases and kept dripping downward until it terminated inside their double deep belly buttons.

Asami was more than happy to let the greedy girls stay in front of her and order a second round of ice cream cones after they finished the first. After slurping up all the ice cream, they had demolished the cones themselves, carelessly letting crumbs cover their cleavage. The next round were double vanilla cones smothered in chocolate syrup, and as Asami watched them eat them, she also watched their lower halves bloom.

The twins had very toned lower halves, had being the key word. As they began to scarf down their second ice creams, their toned thighs began to quiver in response. The flesh shook as their muscles turned to mush, melted away and became big tubes of jiggling fat. Even without moving, their thighs shook from the fat that was filling them, giving them saddle bags, and then filling their thighs enough to press them together. The twins were so involved in eating their ice cream cones that they didn’t even move until their thunder thighs forced their stances to widen.

Their thighs continued to inflate with every lick of their ice cream. Their flesh rippled and became covered in cellulite as they grew to be fleshy tree trunks each one far greater in size then their trim waists used to be. They were great wobbling pillars of flab, and that flab expanded outward in all directions. It even drooped over their fat knees. As the fat continued to fill their legs, they stretched out their calves and ankles until they came together in to form big swollen cankles, and even their feet grew fat. Their extremely fatty legs weren’t the only part of their lower halves that blew up of course.

Butts grew big. Their buns of steel, which previously were so hard with muscles that you could have bounced a quarter off of, became broken down cushions of fat, bloated and saggy. They filled with flab and became so large that they flopped downward and slapped onto the back of their big fat thighs. They were blubbery buns now, growing large enough to become personal bean bags made of fat. Their asses went from being perfectly heart shaped to being broken down dump trucks and more. They stuck out like shelves of fat but at the same time sagged downward onto their thighs all while absolutely eating their bikini bottoms. And, obviously those chunky cheeks were chock full of cellulite.

Back up top, their arms billowed with fat becoming bingo wings that poured over their fat elbows. They were a far cry from the wiry biceps they used to have. Their blubbery arms shook as they kept rotating the ice cream cones to furiously lick every part of them.

As they turned back to face Asami, it was clear that their faces were covered in ice cream and chocolate syrup. And their faces were also extremely fat. The twins’ previously angular faces with delicate features were now round and jowly with a multitude of chins, each of them covered in the remnants of their ice cream pig out session. Their upturned noses now looked piggish just like the rest of the fat flushed faces. The bikini beauties were now thoroughly bloated messes.

And Asami somehow squeezed between their massive forms to order her mint chocolate chip sundae while they contemplated which kind of ice cream they wanted to scarf down next.

Asami’s ice cream tasted all the sweeter as she celebrated her job well done and daydreamed about where the notebook could be used next.

The Fat Making Notebook Goes to the Beach - Extended TEASER

Here's some of what is coming to the patreon soon, and by soon I mean hopefully by tomorrow.

Enjoy!

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Wouldn’t you love to have a notebook that made people fat at the beach? Imagine those tight beach bodies blossoming with fat.

The beach was not normally the kind of place Asami liked to go. Being a rather heavy set girl, the beach did not hold fond memories for her. It was usually the kind of place where she felt self-conscious due to a combination of her own insecurities and the judgmental stares of others.

But with the notebook in hand, she suddenly felt a lot more confident. And there was something in the air that made it feel like the beach was really calling her name. And once she got there it didn’t take her long to find someone worthy of changing.

The parking lot was hot, and Asami had to admit that some of the people she saw there were even hotter. There were plenty of eager hardbodies ready to work on their tans and show off their beautiful beach bodies.

Asami saw two vain women in sun hats posing for selfies and used her notebook to make it so their sarongs were stretched tight across their bloated bodies. They went from being bikini babes to body positivity influencers with big blubbery asses and thick buttery thighs. When they were done angling themselves for the perfect selfie, their double chins were much more evident and their sucked in bellies stopped being sucked in which put even more strain on their sarongs. They picked up their things and started to waddle toward the beach. Asami enjoyed the way she could see their booties bounce as they did so.

Next, a random blonde who had already shown up with a bikini and no other covering, found herself with a generous pot belly on display, suddenly so self conscious about the pounds that she had put on that she turned to walk back to her car and give up the whole thing. On the way there, she ran into a redhead who called her chubby, and soon found herself being very pear shaped with especially chunky cellulite covered cheeks for her trouble. After that, she was all about encouraging the blonde to embrace her figure, and the two became fast friends. The two headed down to the beach together with their newly flabby bodies on full display.

After that, Asami spied a vain looking couple, a slim and sexy brunette and her muscular boyfriend who was trying to show off by carrying all of their beach equipment in one go. Asami decided to take care of that.

“The brunette will get chubby and her boyfriend will become too fat and weak to carry all of the stuff by himself. They will think they’ve always been like this.”

The brunette chubbed up quickly, gaining fat all over a growing the standard squishy pot belly, soft sagging ass and chunky thunder thighs combination along with some larger softer breasts, flabbier arms and a slightly puffier face with the hint of a double chin. Her boyfriend grew much fatter. His muscles became lost, buried under pounds and pounds of fat. Her grew a prodigious belly and a set of thunder thighs that had him waddling as he struggled to carry the chair, and umbrella, and cooler all in his weak, flabby arms. His fat face was flushed, and his double chin was wobbling as he struggled. His proud pecs were deflated and became big saggy man boobs that jiggled as he tried to keep himself going only to eventually drop everything.

His girlfriend rolled her eyes at how weak and pathetic his fat ass looked, and then she helped him carry the stuff to the beach.

Asami followed after them.

As Asami tried to find herself a spot, she came across one of the models from work who frequently loved to come to this beach to be admired and to work on their tans. Estella was clearly just finishing setting up her own little spot, and Asami could see a gaggle of admirers failing at pretending not to be looking at her. Estella, the bikini clad babe, didn’t care about them though as she happened to cast her judgmental gaze over at Asami.

“Oh. Asami, isn’t it? You’re here? Ugg. You know. They really shouldn’t let plus-sized porkers like you be at the beach.”

Asami rolled her eyes and kept walking, but she also kept writing in her notebook.

“After letting herself go over the last six months, Estella is now transitioning to becoming a full-time plus-sized model in a desperate attempt to restore her career, and she’s very self-conscious about it.”

Asami didn’t need to look to know what happened next.

Before Estella’s firm butt even hit the ground, it was now bloated and blubbery. Her chunky cheeks wobbled as they hit the sand, and her thunder thighs quivered and slapped together as well. Estella was now a plus-sized porker herself clad in a one piece swimsuit that was being eaten by her growing ass in back and strained by her pudgy pot belly in front. The fabric was stretched by the gut that had replaced Estella’s six pack abs. And fat in the form of thick love handles spilled out the cut out sides of the one piece suit giving her a very unflattering look. Her entire flabby body shook as she sat and tried to finish putting sunscreen on herself. It wasn’t easy with her new belly getting in the way.

Estella’s thighs had grown thick and spongy and took a lot of photoshopping to get rid of the cellulite when she was given some plus-sized swimwear suits that she was still feeling uncomfortable about taking. Up until a short while ago, she would have made fun of people her size. Hell, it wasn’t until a few short weeks ago when she tore an evening dress on a shoot that she had officially blossomed past someone capable of being a traditional model. The laughter and name calling from the colleagues she used to cattily look down upon still haunted her. Not even an emergency trip to the craft services table where she stuffed her face full of deli meats could ease her pain.

Estella thought she was going to be fired for sure, but instead she was just moved to being a plus-sized model full time. She hated being a plus-sized model. Estella had always considered plus-sized models to be lazy and desperate, but here she was now lazy and desperate. She couldn’t get a handle on her appetite, and working out just wasn’t working out for her. If she wanted to stay in the industry she had to give up on ever being thin again and stick to being thick. Plus-size modeling didn’t pay as well, but it did pay the bills.

She could feel the eyes on her now, not nearly as many as she was used to, and she could tell that the ones that were looking at her were looking at her with the judgment that she had always given others. They were thinking what she was thinking, that she was a pathetic porker now. It was making her uncomfortable.

Speaking of uncomfortable, Estella had to lift a chunky cheek and adjust herself, pulling out a wedgie that was forming. It was yet another of a thousand small humiliations since she had put on weight. While she was trying to embrace some form of body positivity with her new career move, she also knew that she had to be careful. She had heard tales of plenty of women just like her whose weight had crept up into the realm of the plus-sized model and then shot past it until there was no modeling left to be done but fetish modeling, and she certainly didn’t want to end up like that.

As Estella sat back down again, her chubbier hands rested on her bloated pot belly. She cupped it and then gave it a dissatisfied squeeze and a frustrated shake. It rumbled in response. Hunger, it was something she used to fight so well, but now she needed to give in. She reached into her beach bag and pulled out a bag of potato chips, and not just a snack sized one. And she began to munch away with her new double chin forming as she did so. Between handfuls of chips she let out a sigh because she knew the sad truth.

This was her life now.

She was a tall and tan beauty with long dark hair. And she was with a short squat woman who didn’t look like a family member but who the raven haired beauty wasn’t treating like a friend. She was just so snide, showing off her body and insulting the other woman.

Asami decided that it would be fun to make the show off one the fat friend, and while she couldn’t make the fat friend thinner, she could certainly make the thin friend far fatter.

“The slim woman with dark hair is going to gain weight until her bikini barely fits her. Everyone will think she just hasn’t realized how much weight she’s gained until just now. She will continue to gain weight over the next six months and always be at least fifty pounds heavier than the other woman she’s with while never losing weight.”

The tanned and toned woman kept her tan, but her tone began to disappear as her abs turned to flab. Her trim tummy began to bulge out into a big bouncing paunch with thick love handles that spilled over the edges of her bikini bottoms. It was a delicious muffin top that sprung out in all directions and flopped with flab. Those same bottoms became greatly taxed by the widening of her hips and the thickening of her thighs.

Those thighs grew sudden saddlebags and she looked rather outrageous as she strut about still trying to pose, blissfully unaware of the way her new flab was moving, especially as her spongy belly grew bigger and bounced up and down like it was full of jelly. As she swung her widening hips, her growing ass swung along. It had its own rhythm as it filled with soft blubber. She had planned to hit her usual perfect pose with a simple pop of her pert butt, but now her chunky ass bounced quite a bit more than she was used to and almost threw her off balance. She nearly tripped over her fat feet and landed with her plump butt in the hot sand, but at the last moment she managed to catch herself and stop from falling though her thunder thighs kept quivering for a few moments more, and her belly had quite a bit of additional wobble to it, shaking like jello on a plate.

Every bit of her was softer. Her breasts grew soft and saggy and filled her bikini top. While previously pert and perky, they were now massive undulating melons that bounced about as they moved. They would have been quite distracting if she hadn’t grown such a large doughy and dominating pot belly. Her gut had grown to be quite sizable, plush with pudge. Although she maintained her tan, her lower half was also clearly covered with cellulite. They were thick, very squeezable thighs that her closed her thigh gap and were threatening to turn her into a classic waddling fat girl any day now. She certainly wasn’t going to be able to strut about the beach as easily with her new heavier body. She was still getting used to all the weight and seemed to have become one clumsy chunker.

The original chubby friend, who was in a much more flattering swimsuit, couldn’t help but chuckle at the display that her newly chunky friend was putting on and at the sideways glances she was receiving because of it. There were more than a few rude stares and disgusted whispers as people who would have admired her just a few moments ago now mocked the new little oinker who was putting on quite the humiliating show.

Seeing that she wasn’t getting the kind of attention she wanted. The newly pudgy porker snorted and looked down at her sunbathing friend. This look downward made her slight double chin all the more prominent.

“I’m bored and hungry. Let’s go get some ice cream.”

“Okay, but you better be careful. You eat too much ice cream and you’re gonna bust out of that suit,” snickered the friend.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ve been gaining weight like crazy. Jeez. I may be kinda hefty, but you’re getting downright FAT.” The chubby friend stressed this point by sticking her finger deep into her formerly thin friend’s pudgy pot belly before sliding her thumb underneath the thick roll of fat and giving it a hard pinch.

“Ugg! Shut up. Now you’re buying the ice cream.”

“Fine with me, blubber butt,” she laughed as she gave her friend a smack on the ass and allowed her chubby hand to really sink into the chunk and give it a good squeeze.

Asami could tell that this chubby girl was really reveling in her once thin friend packing on the pounds and becoming the fatter of the two. She hoped that the karmic revenge would be even sweeter than the ice cream they were about to share.

As the two wandered off to fill their tubby tummies with ice cream, Asami watched both of their flabby butts bounce. She noticed with joy just how much wider, saggier and bouncier that formerly thin girl’s was. She was pleased with the knowledge that the raven haired former beauty queen would soon be waddling about stuffing her fat face with snacks. And Asami was filled with a hunger of her own, the hunger to find more people to punish.

With her gaze traveling across the beach, it wasn’t long before she found her next prey-

A trio of lifeguards.

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 28

Hey everyone,

Sorry for the lateness. To be honest, some stuff came up and I ended up not in a great headspace which was no conducive to writing. However, here is the new volume of "Fat Trimmings". Only two stories here, but they're both over 1,200 words.

Next week I have a lot more time, and I'm hoping the rest will lead to me being extra productive.

For now...

Enjoy!

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“Tit for Tat Makes You Fat”

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Cindy and Mindy were two annoying skinny friends. They had been two annoying skinny friends since they were children. At first it was cute because children are adorable, especially when precocious. And Cindy and Mindy did the initially adorable thing of bonding over the fact that their names sounded so similar. And then that kind of cuteness wears off pretty easily, especially when that cuteness becomes vanity and arrogance.

Throughout high school and college, Ciindy and Mindy were the ultimate mean girls, they loved to make fun of others and flaunt their own successes. This is why, even out of college, they still spent so much time at the mall. They loved to strut their stuff at the mall while people watching and making fun of many of the people that they saw walking by. Cindy and Mindy frequently gossiped about their friends and others and even enjoy occasionally throwing some barbs at each other. They couldn’t help it. Years of vanity and privilege and made them rather capricious and catty, even toward each other.

“Ugg. Look at that cow, waddling about,” Cindy crowed as she pointed to a random fat woman that she saw. She made sure her voice was loud enough for the fat woman to hear her disdain.

“Waddling in the mall is probably her only exercise,” laughed Mindy as she shot a disgusted judgemental glare at the woman.

“Yes, from the plus sized store to the food court!”

“With lots of stops in between. No doubt she’s constantly winded.”

“Disgusting.”

“Grotesque.”

“To get that fat.”

“How horrifying.”

Cindy and Mindy stopped to admire their reflections in a the windows of an antique shop that they had never realized existed in the mall before- and that seemed rather out of place if they really thought about it. But they didn’t but too much thought into it because they were too caught up in their reflections. If they had stopped to think about anything other than their own beauty they would have also noticed that it was odd to see their reflections so clearly in a glass window. It was like the glass they were looking at became less translucent and far more reflective, morphing into a mirror before them, and then, just like that, they were done admiring themselves, and the glass was completely translucent again.

The two scoffed at the dusty contents of the store and strut off to find more people to make fun of.

They failed to see how their reflections seemed to twist and follow, slipping into their shadows.

As Cindy and Mindy walked past a clothing boutique they’d never seen before called Katrina’s Closet, they watched a fat woman come waddling out of it. She was a wobbling, waddling mass of fat in an outfit that was nowhere close to fitting her. She was wearing a crop top and daisy duke shorts that were split open with no button to be seen so that her gelatinous gut was uncontained. It was a humorous sight to see this great big cow of a woman squeezed into clothes clearly sized for people like Cindy and Mindy. She had huge tree trunk thighs covered in cellulite and completely exposed by her shorts. 

While watching this whale waddle away, Cindy couldn’t help but play a little joke on Mindy.

“Ya know, you better be careful, Mindy. You’re stomach’s looking a little pudgy. Keep it up and you’ll be bursting buttons just like that cow from the clothing store.”

Mindy just laughed it off and decided to snipe back at Cindy in turn.

“Sure, Cindy. Whatever you say, but take your own advice and hit the gym cause your thighs are looking thick.”

“I’m curvy.”

“Yeah. If those curves were made of fat.”

“Sure thing, chubs.”

The two catty girls left it off, unaware that Mindy’s abs had disappeared and had turned into a pudgy little started belly that pressed against the button of her pants. And Cindy’s athletic thighs softened and expanded. With each step she took, her new softer thighs shook.

Suddenly, Cindy’s still flat stomach began to grumble.

“Let’s head to the food court. I’m hungry.”

“Of course, you’re hungry you little piglet,” snarked Mindy.

Said snarking lost a bit of its sting as Mindy’s own stomach began to growl.

“You should talk, tubs. I can hear that pudgy belly of yours begging to be stuffed.”

“Shut up, and let’s just get some food.”

The two made their way to the food court where they each got themselves some pizza.

“Do you really need a second slice, Mindy? All that grease is going to go right to your gut.”

“And you really need two orders of garlic knots, Cindy? All those carbs are going to turn to flab. They’re going to be murder on your ass and thighs.”

They thought about sitting down and eating, but instead found themselves compelled to head over to pick up dessert as well. By now, Mindy had grown a full blown muffin top, and the rest of her had softened to compliment it. While Cindy's stomach had also gone slack with fat, most of her blubber had settled down below, blowing up her thighs and giving her bubble butt some extra junk to make it sag even as it stretched the backside of her pants to its fullest extent. The two chubby girls picked out desserts to follow their pizza feast, and of course they couldn’t help but snipe at each other about it.

“I don’t think you should be eating that brownie, Mindy. You know what they say, a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.”

“Stuff it, fat ass. I see you with those cupcakes you definitely don’t need. Keep snacking on sugar like you do, and you’re going to be waddling real soon.”

“You pig.”

“You cow.”

The two paid for their junkfood and sat down in a huff, the chairs groaning as they did so, and then they began to stuff their faces, tearing into their food with reckless abandon. They were truly getting heavy at this point, with every part of them growing fatter. Of course, Mindy still carried most of her weight around the middle with a massive gut, and Cindy had chunky thighs and ass cheeks that were well cushioned.

“Wow, Mindy. You’re really packing it in, no wonder you’re packing on the pounds.”

Mindy’s gut stretched out and sagged further across her fat lap.

“You’re one to talk. They way you’re stuffing your cheeks, it's no wonder your ass cheeks have gotten so huge.”

Cindy rose in her seat, not because she was getting up but because her already fat ass cheeks were inflating further. They grew in size as she continued to stuff her face.

And so the two women continued to eat and taunt each other until they were left with empty plates and big flabby obese bodies. They were fat pigs with big blubbery bellies, fat faces with doughy double chins and thighs that forced them both to waddle about. And neither was able to go very far without having to stop to catch their labored breaths. Cindy’s thighs were especially tree trunk like, and her ass had its own gravitational pull. Mindy’s massive body was dominated by her globular gut, a quivering mass of greedy fat. With their own cruel words, they had turned themselves into exactly the kind of people they loved to make fun of.

And there was no going back.

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“Camp Thick Burger”

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Brad and Marlene were made to be fat camp counselors. They were absolute stereotypes, the bright and bubbly fitness fanatics who were not so secretly incredibly vain and disdainful toward their clients. They were two incredibly fit individuals who prided themselves in their lean but muscular bodies. They were tanned and toned and felt absolutely invincible.

And they hated fat people. They thought fat people were greedy and lazy and generally disgusting. They were certain that they were better than anyone else, and they were doubly certain that they were better than any fat person. While some people like them may have chosen to avoid fat people, Brad and Marlene actually found that they had their most fun when they could spend their time making fun of fat people. 

So they became personal trainers.

They loved it. It gave them card blanche to have fatties that they loved to humiliate pay to humiliate them. It was a perfect situation. They could show off their fit and sexy bodies, have a lot of fun making fun of fat slobs, and get paid decent money.

And then an option came along to make a lot more money.

Brad and Marlene were hired to be some of the counselors at the new Thick Burger fat camp. They would spend their summer helping fat adults who paid to spend anywhere from one to eight weeks there to try to lose some blubber while laughing their asses off watching those fatties try to work their fatties off.

What they didn’t realize though was Thick Burger’s true motives.

Camp Thick Burger was a weight loss camp. That was true. And it was designed to be a camp where Thick Burger clients really did actually lose weight and better their health. But the reasons for the camp may have been a bit less altruistic. Camp Thick Burger came about because Thick Burger had found itself with a problem that it needed to solve, a big problem.

Thick Burger customers were getting too fat too fast. And that meant that some people might get around to filing a few lawsuits, but on a grander scale it might mean that Thick Burger would lose too many customers too fast. So Thick Burger found that there was a direct monetary benefit to keeping their customers healthier. It had started as a joke at first, and then people realized that people who were getting fat on Thick Burger might pay Thick Burger a lot of money to lose some weight and then go back to Thick Burger once they had lost the weight. Then they would gain weight again and need to pay to go back to camp. It was a perfect cycle.

And then somebody had an even better idea to go along with it. What if Camp Thick Burger wasn’t just the kind of place where current clients could lose weight to continue being clients, what if the fat farm was a place to farm new clients? And who would those be primarily? The answer was simple. While the campers would be fed primarily on Thick Burger’s healthier options, the counselors would be given access to the full Thick Burger menu.

A bunch of fit people would be spending their summer getting addicted to Thick Burger. Surely, they would be giving back their paychecks once summer is done and they couldn’t get enough of the delicious, and fattening, Thick Burger fare. And then, with any luck, those same fit counselors would eat so much Thick Burger that they would find themselves so desperate to regain their fitter bodies that they would pay to become Camp Thick Burger far campers.

This is the fate that awaited Brad and Marlene even though they didn’t realize it.

The beginning of camp went exactly as Brad and Marlene planned. They worked their fatties to the bone, making fun of them the entire time and enjoying watching their struggle. They were quick to show off their own bodies and rub their fitness in their campers faces.

Then they found out just how delicious Thick Burger is. The counselor commissary had all of the options available to them, and while they started out trying to stick to just the healthier options, the fact that the food was always there and always free meant that it was inevitable that they would give in, and the first time they had an actual burger made them hooked. They figured they could have as many of those as they wanted as long as they topped them with healthy things like tomatoes and lettuce and especially avocado because that’s the good kind of fat.

Big Thick Burger lunches and dinners meant that Brad and Marlene were often too full for private gym time, and when they worked out their campers, they found that they could do plenty by just telling their clients what to do instead of showing them.

So their campers ended up losing weight while they ended up gaining it.

Lots of the Camp Thick Burger counselors gained weight, according to plan, but Brad and Marlene were something else. Nobody could have predicted how much their appetites would have increased and how much their metabolisms would collapse. Their weights ballooned as the summer went by. Their muscles deflated and then inflated with fat.

Brad became a real blubber boy, with a big belly that hung over the waistband of his shorts and rolled out from under his shirts. He grew fat, weak arms, and big sagging man boobs. All the pounds that piled on made his shoulders look smaller, and as his but and thighs grew filled with fat as well, he soon looked like the kind of fat weakling he used to shove against the lockers back in his school days. He had transformed himself in just one summer from a chiseled jock to a lumbering fatty. And Marlene was right by his side.

Marlene had been a model quality beauty, and by the end she was past just plus sized and instead found her fat piling up in saggy and unflattering ways. The burgers gave her quite the belly. She developed a great big greedy gut that shook at the slightest steps and massive thunder thighs that rubbed together and forced the woman who formerly loved to run to waddle everywhere instead. Her perfect perky butt became a blubbery mess that wobbled as she waddled.

By the end of their 16 week contract, Brad and Marlena were fatter than many of the campers that they were supervising while they were supersizing. Those campers who had spent most of the season there were thrilled to see the haughty counselors reduced to obese, junk food addicted, slobs. They were winded by simple walks at this point and had truly put on an astounding amount of weight in such a period of time.

It was the kind of results that Thick Burger executives took note on to try and employ with more of the next season’s counselors. While all of the counselors had put on significant weight, were no longer what anyone would consider slim and fit, Brad and Marlene had really taken the cake. (They were big fans of Thick Burgers’ plentiful new dessert options- something else Thick Burger was piloting at the camp.) And while the other counselors were well on their way to Thick Burger addiction and a trip back as potential campers, Brad and Marlena were already there.

In the end, the two were humiliated once they realized that the fatties they used to make fun of could now run circles around them, quite literally. Their big butts were the butt of many jokes, and life didn’t get easier once they left the camp and had to deal with their vain friends and families. The world decided to pay them back in kind for all the cruel comments they had paid to others.

Brad and Marlena looked at each other with disgust and the realization that they had nowhere else to go, so they stuck with each other which was definitely not conducive to getting back on track with a proper diet. After their contract was up, they couldn’t find any new jobs as personal trainers because they had let themselves go so much. And they soon found themselves burning through the money they had made at camp, especially since their food budgets had so noticeably increased. 

Luckily Thick Burger was there for them once again.

This time Brad and Marlena had to settle for humiliating fast food jobs where they were essentially servants to the kind of people they used to humiliate, the kind of people they now were. And when they weren’t serving fatties, they felt the constant sting of degradation from Thick Burger’s thinner customers, especially the ones who had known them when they were vain and slim and sexy.

Of course, most Thick Burger customers don’t stay thin forever.

And neither do their employees.

It was obvious to even Brad and Marlena that they were doomed to gain more weight working at Thick Burger, so it was no surprise that they ate themselves further into obesity. But hey, Thick Burger’s health insurance was pretty decent, and it even gave them an opportunity to lose weight.

They’d just have to swallow their pride and go back to camp.

Fat Trimmings Update/Teaser

Hey everybody,

Fat Trimmings is going to be late this week, hopefully tomorrow, maybe Thursday. But I wanted to give you at least something, so here is a brief teaser of one of the stories that will feature as hinted at last week:

“Camp Thick Burger”

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Brad and Marlene were made to be fat camp counselors. They were absolute stereotypes, the bright and bubbly fitness fanatics who were not so secretly incredibly vain and disdainful toward their clients. They were two incredibly fit individuals who prided themselves in their lean but muscular bodies. They were tanned and toned and felt absolutely invincible.

And they hated fat people. They thought fat people were greedy and lazy and generally disgusting. They were certain that they were better than anyone else, and they were doubly certain that they were better than any fat person. While some people like them may have chosen to avoid fat people, Brad and Marlene actually found that they had their most fun when they could spend their time making fun of fat people. 

So they became personal trainers.

They loved it. It gave them card blanche to have fatties that they loved to humiliate pay to humiliate them. It was a perfect situation. They could show off their fit and sexy bodies, have a lot of fun making fun of fat slobs, and get paid decent money.

And then an option came along to make a lot more money.

Brad and Marlene were hired to be some of the counselors at the new Thick Burger fat camp. They would spend their summer helping fat adults who paid to spend anywhere from one to eight weeks there to try to lose some blubber while laughing their asses off watching those fatties try to work their fatties off.

What they didn’t realize though was Thick Burger’s true motives.

100 Patrons! AMA Celebration

First of all, thank you once again for helping me get to 100 paying patrons. It is such a huge thing for me, and I really appreciate it.

This is possibly super self-indulgent, but I like to think that there are enough of you and I've written enough stories that at least some of you might have some questions.

So I thought it would be fun to set aside some time to answer those questions.

I won't answer any questions about my personal life for obvious reasons, but I'll happily answer any questions about my life as a writer (influences etc.) and any questions about my writing as long as I don't think my answers would spoil anything major. So feel free to ask away!

"The Scales of Time": Chapter 11

Here it is. The beginning of the end. Act 3.

Enjoy!

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Julie’s fat ass just couldn’t fight it. She couldn’t help herself. With every fiber of her being she tried to struggle, but it was like she was a marionette fighting against fully taught strings. Every time she tried to move a limb in the direction she wanted it to go, she felt the tension as it pulled her in the opposite direction. Even just trying to do something as simple as stop wasn’t working.

And the voice, Vivian’s voice was constantly taunting her.

“You can try fighting it, fatty. It won’t help. Hell, I could let you just get yourself to stand there. I just need to run out the clock.”

A cold bead of sweat broke on Julie’s brow as she realized exactly what Vivian was talking about. With every ounce of energy she could muster, she managed to move her eyes enough to look over at the great clock tower on the other side of the quad, its hands counting down the time till her challenge was to begin.

“That’s right, Piggy. All I have to do is keep you here, and then you’ll forfeit the challenge, and everything will be back to being as it should be.”

Vivian’s voice in her head grew deeper as her stomach began to rumble.

“But I have a more fun way to pass the time. So let’s get this fat ass of yours moving.”

And with that, Julie’s head was whipped back toward the dining hall, and her legs began to make slow ponderous movements as she started to waddle toward her own demise.

As the rumbling hunger in her stomach grew, so too did the weight of Julie’s fear. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as the anxiety coursed through her veins, and she knew that all of the work she had done was set to be unraveled and all for nothing. With each step toward the dining hall, she knew she was marching to her own defeat. Like a lamb to the slaughter, like a prisoner to the gallows, each slow step made the time tick away counting down to her inevitable demise.

“Damnit,” she thought as she unwillingly pressed her fat palm against the cold glass door and pushed her way into the dining hall.

She had come so far. She had made Vivian so damn fat. They were equals in weight now, no matter how much Vivian still wanted to fall back on old ways and call her rude names. Julie knew for at least this moment that if she was a fatty, Vivian was a fatty as well. She had successfully turned that skinny bitch into the exact kind of fat cow she used to make fun of, if only for what seemed to be fleeting moments now. 

“Would it be enough?” She pondered as she waddled toward the buffet line, pulled along by Vivian’s command.

Would she be able to be satisfied with just the thought of how close she came, of how fat Vivian had gotten. Maybe she would be able to take this whole thing as some kind of moral victory. Nobody had ever expected her to get this far. It was always meant to be Vivian who out classed her, overpowered her, overmatched her with both her natural skill and her cleverness. Yes. Vivian had gotten the best of her in the end just like she was always supposed to.

Julie would have to make do with the thoughts of Vivian being a complete chunker. She would hold onto the memories tightly like she was clinging to a pillow, a pillow the size and consistency of one of Vivian’s fat thunder thighs. Yes, she would always remember that size of the gluttonous gut that Vivian had grown, that Julie through her own machinations had given her. She would remember how Vivian had gone from a slim and sexy vixen to a gluttonous pig, her hardbody now quivering with extra flesh. Those would have to be the memories that sustained her.

If she could even still have them.

Would those memories be torn away from her along with her magic? What would she even have if she didn’t have that?

No. Julie couldn’t allow herself to give up yet, she had to do something, to fight back somehow.

But fighting back was getting harder and harder to do as she found herself piling on cupcakes and covering one of many plates with spoonful after spoonful of mac and cheese. It was like with every spoonful she could feel the weight she had lost piling itself back on. She could so easily imagine how huge she would be once she lost this challenge. She could see herself barely being able to move and yet having to lug her incredibly obese body around, working as a janitor while Vivian and her cronies followed her around and laughed at her.

It was the fate that should have been Vivian’s.

It was the fate that would be hers.

Defeat hung over her as she slapped a huge piece of chocolate cake on her plate right next to the two large pizza slices and the plate piled high with saucy chicken wings.

“This is a feast, fit for you, don’t you think? A real feast fit for a piggy queen,” laughed Vivian as she had Julie trudge toward a table to begin her binging.

“This is what you wanted to do to me, isn’t it? I think it’s a fitting punishment. Now get to eating, piggy.”

Julie did as she was told because she had no other choice. Her arms moved mechanically as she began to shove food into her mouth.

First came the cheap, greasy pizza. Oil ran down her chin as she practically inhaled two slices. Then came the greasy, saucy chicken wings which stained her chubby hands and cheeks. She sucked the meat off of each bone before picking up the big slice of chocolate cake and shoving it into her mouth without care to the crumbs and chocolate icing that got everywhere.

“That’s right. Stuff your face! You wanted this to be me, well now you can have it all. Eat like there’s no tomorrow because for you there is none. This is the thinnest you’ll ever be, Fatso. Once I’m done with you, you’ll be spending every day of your miserable life as on obese hog with nothing but food to comfort you. Speaking of comfort food, I think it’s time for some mac and cheese. Don’t you?”

Julie dug in as tears rolled down her chubby cheeks and mixed with the chocolate and wing sauce. The mac and cheese tasted delicious which may have been the worst part. It was creamy, cheesy goodness that weighed heavily in her growing stomach. She wanted more than anything to put her fork down and walk away, but her hand was not hers to control, and so it just kept moving from her plate back to her mouth, back and forth, back and forth, constantly shoving more food into her wide open mouth until the plate was nearly empty.

“That’s right. Keep on going, piggy. Plenty of time left. Eat this and then there’s the cupcakes, and then we’ll even get you some seconds… and thirds!”

Julie kept plowing through and was midway through her second cupcake, when she heard a familiar voice.

“Julianna? What are you still doing here?”

It was her Aunt Cass!

The fat janitor came waddling over to her niece and grabbed her by her fat arms.

“You have got to go. I know you’re nervous, but this is not the time to eat. Come on.”

Cassy tried to pull Julie to her feet, but Julie was lost. She wanted to answer her Aunt Cass. She could feel her tugging at her both physically and mentally. But all her mouth could do was taste the bitter sweetness of another cupcake.

Cassy could tell by the vacant expression in Julie’s eyes that something was wrong. She may have been out of the game for a long time, but she could still recognize some magic when she saw it.

“JULIE!” she screamed.

“YOU HAVE TO FIGHT IT! YOU HAVE TO!”

Heads were turning, stares locking on two of them as Cassy screamed like a madwoman, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t care. This was all or nothing.

And suddenly Julie felt different, not like she couldn’t suddenly stop eating, but like she could think more clearly. Cassy’s intervention must have somehow weaknend Vivian’s hold just enough that while her physical self couldn’t stop, her astral- whatever self- could function again. 

She could focus. 

She could act. 

Julie knew there was only one thing she could do. Like a dagger, she plunged herself into her own mind determined to carve Vivian out of it. 

That’s how Julie found herself standing in front of Vivian once again, the two of them squaring off across from each other in a reflection of the challenge ground inside of Julie’s mind. There were no observers, not even her Aunt Cassy. Just the two of them, fat Julie-

And a slim and Vivian staring her down.

“Impressive. Perhaps you’re a bit more powerful than I gave you credit for.”

“You’re a bitch!” 

Julie whipped out her wand and sent out a blast of arcane energy that was easily batted away by Vivian’s simple counter charm.

“Such a wit.”

A second blast met the same result.

“Oh come now. I was trying to compliment you and everything. Now this is just pathetic.”

Julie dug deep into her well of emotion and let loose a far stronger arcane blast. As the chord of silver energy whipped out and came within inches of striking Vivian when she threw up a magic shield and began to push it back, but this time, Julie would not give in. Instead of allowing the arcane energy to dissipate she pushed harder.

As the two fought their way to a stalemate, and with her slim figure once again intact, Vivian finally had the calmness of mind to regard Julie as a worthy opponent-

One she would soon be dispatching.

“You really wanted to ruin my life,” she smirked.

What she was blissfully unaware of in that moment was the expansion of her own trim waistline.

Julie’s keen eye took note of it though. And she realized what it meant. Vain Vivian was stretching her power thin to make herself appear thin. She couldn’t control Julie so completely, defend herself from Julie’s counterattack and keep the illusion of her slim figure intact. The harder that Vivian defended herself against Julie, the more her body grew. It started with her tapered waist and defined abs giving and and slacking off with fat, blooming with pudge and turning back into a jiggling muffin top.

She knew she had to push Vivian further.

“Ruin your life? Like you want to ruin mine.”

Julie pushed harder, and as Vivian pushed back, the button on her pants popped. Vivian still seemed not to notice. Something about Julie’s comment must have hit her just the right away, and instead she decided to spit venom, the result of which was a further tightening of her pants as her toned thighs and pert butt began to grow.

“What life am I ruining? You’ve been a fat lazy loser for years. All I’m doing is making you fatter and taking away the powers that you barely used.”

Vivian kept expanding. Julie could hear the leather of her pants stretching against the blubber that was pushing it outward as her thighs became thunder thighs once more, and her heart-shaped ass began to lose its shape and become a flabby mess that was barely contained by her pants.

“I’m the one who deserves to be slim and sexy. I actually understand and appreciate the power that I’ve earned.”

The irony of Vivian’s statement was lost on her as she continued to balloon. Her big belly grew larger, completely exposed as her shirt could no longer contain the rolls of fat the spilled over the waistband of her pants.

“You’re a bully.”

Vivian cackled cruelly as her angular face regained the fat Julie had given her. As she laughed, her newly reformed double chin began to wobble. Still, there was a great amount of pride and confidence in her voice as she laid into Julie.

“It’s called practice. My family is destined for control. I’m destined for control, and if I were to have lost a step, to have a moment of weakness, I would have been stepped over and eagerly humiliated. Bully or be bullied. That’s the world we live in. You’ve seen that. You’ve seen what people in these new memories have done to me because of your interference. How people look at me. I will not have it!”

As she screamed that last bit, her pants split and the fat from her ass and thighs came oozing out. But this went unnoticed by Julie. It was her turn to be too upset to be aware of exactly what was going on.

“So you singled me out? You wanted to ruin me of all people?”

In that moment the disdain on Vivian’s face was as clear as the fat on her body. Her clothes are bursting off, and though the breaking of the illusion and her resulting fattening was now obvious to Vivian, she kept her true focus locked and funneled all of her anger directly toward Julie.

“Ruined? Oh boo hoo. Woe is me. I was born into one of the most powerful magic families in the world and grew up with access to unlimited potential right at my finger tips, power over literal reality, and I never bothered trying to truly live up to that potential until just now because someone was mean to me.”

Julie couldn’t help but shudder, her should slumped as Vivian’s words wounded her deeply.

Pressing her advantage, Vivian began to walk toward Julie. Her steps were measured an purposeful, partly because she was being dramatic, partly because Julie was still throwing up and arcane wall of force that was struggling to repel her away, and partly because her thighs had gotten so fat that they were now rubbing together and forcing her obese ass to waddle.

“This is why you’re so pathetic. You can use magic. And you chose to spend your years wallowing in self-pity instead of actually doing something to better yourself.”

Julie forgot her plan. Fueled only by the deep seeded anger Vivian caused her, she began to step forward to.

“I lost my aunt.”

“Did she die?!?”

The two fat witches continued to waddle toward each other, now equal in weight gain as the power between them pulsed and crackled.

“She lost her powers. She was devastated, destroyed.”

Step by labored, lumbering step, they grew closer. 

“And I’m supposed to feel bad about that? What was the alternative? That it should happen to my sister?” Vivian snarled, sweat pour from her fat forehead used the magic to force Julie to her knees.

As she glared down at Julie there was madness in her eyes, a desperation fueled by perceived destiny, of the knowledge that everything she had ever lived for was held in this moment.

“Don’t you get it, you dumb cow. It’s your family or mine. That’s how it’s always been. Only one of us can be in charge. Why you? Why did I single you out? Because my whole life has been about beating you, just you. Everyone else can be cajoled, used, discarded, but you need to be defeated, for my family.”

But Julie would not stay down. She forced herself back to her feet, and as the two fat witches got so close together that their bellies almost touched, the feedback from their wands finally proved too much. The resulting blast sent both fat girls flying.

Both were left slamming against the ground with their fat bodies quivering.

When she finally managed to dust herself off, Julie looked over at the slumped over Vivian and shook her head. The weight of years was heavy on her shoulders, and it was in that moment that Julie realized that her and Vivian were both so much more and so much less, pieces in a much larger, grander game. The key difference was that Vivian always seemed more aware of it. The whole thing seemed tremendously unfair.

“We could have been friends. We could have built something together instead of you constantly trying to tear me down.”

Vivian’s head hung low as she scooped her fat flabby gut with her chubby hands.

“Maybe living your whole life amongst people with unlimited potential at your fingertips while knowing only half of you will get to keep it is not ideal for making friends.”

Both witches sat there, fat and tired, their heavy chests heaving with each labored breath.

Julie looked at her opponent, her rival, and hung her head as well. She waddled herself over to Vivian and offered her a hand.

“So let’s change it. You and me. We don’t have to do this.”

Vivian barely acknowledged the hand that Julie was offering, too busy looking down at the sagging fat that was pooling in her own.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re right. We’re from the two most powerful families in our coven. What are they going to do with us? We can change things. We can be better, put all of this behind us. Move forward. We don’t have to win or lose. We can choose to draw.”

“Draw?” Vivan asked as she wiped tears from her chubby cheeks.

“Yes. We just say no more to this whole damn thing. Learn to forgive each other and walk away. No winning. No losing. No trying to tear each other down. Just building together.”

“A draw.” Vivian nodded.

And then a low deep belly laugh bubbled forth from Vivian’s doughy belly. As the laughter grew and worked its way up, it exploded out of her throat as a double chin wobbling cackle.

“A draw!?! I’m winning, you stupid cow!”

Vivian smacked Julie’s hand away and heaved her hefty body back up onto her fat feet. Her entire body jiggled as she continued to laugh.

“And now? Now I’m going to crush you forever. I’m not throwing away unlimited power for something as stupidly altruistic as ‘building something together’. You coward. You stupid, weak, pathetic coward. You don’t have it in you to defeat me.”

Julie looked down at her spurned hand and grit her teeth. 

“Alright then. Let’s finish this.”

Julie could feel something that Vivian couldn’t. She could sense that she had far more control back inside her own mind than she had before. While she couldn’t quite manipulate her physical body, she could shape the world inside her mind as much as she wanted. So the challenge ground became a simple circular ring, and the two fat witches found themselves dressed as sumo wrestlers complete with overtaxed sports bras and mawasahi’s that showcased their cellulite ridden thunder thighs and fat flabby asses. Their big bulging bellies were also on full display much to Vivian’s chagrin.

“Is this a joke? This humiliation!”

“Well, I’m used to it. But I figured it might be fun for you.”

“I hate you.”

“Likewise.”

The two charged at each other and clashed as sumo wrestlers. At first they bounced off each other’s blubber and then they clashed again, fab pressed against flab as they shoved each other around.

“You fat, pathetic loser. You know nothing!”

“I know I’m going to find some way to beat you.”

Julie and Vivian slammed together again like two big walruses fighting for superiority. Flab flew as their chubby hands smacked at each other. The jiggling juggernauts would not yield.

“You don’t get it. I’m so much more than you even give me credit for. I’m the most important member of the most powerful magical family there is.”

There was a clap like thunder as the two fatties met again. They were two meaty women slapping meat and trying to shove the others to the ground. 

“How much power do you really have? The only reason you’re even here is because my Aunt Cassy tripped.”

As they pressed together, Vivian leaned in close to Julie’s ear. Her mouth was practically foaming.

“You think she just tripped? It was me! It was me the whole time! I made the tree root grow. I tripped your aunt and won my sister her challenge. I set everything in motion.”

Julie’s heart skipped a beat and her leg began to slip as Vivian pushed her closer toward the edge of the mat. Tears ran down her blanched cheeks as Vivian kept pushing her.

“And now I’m going to end you, and once you’re out of the way just like your fat, powerless aunt, we’re going to take care of your worthless lush of an aunt and your bitch of a mother. Your entire family will be purged from this coven that will now belong entirely to mine, and it will all be because of me!”

And just like that the rage grew in Julie’s gut.

“ArrrrrAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!”

Vivian’s fat body trembled as Julie dug in and lifted her off of her fat fat and slammed her to the ground. Vivian’s belly shook like a plate of jello as her fat back hit the mat. And Julie stood over her with her fist raised high and ready to come down on her stop only by-

A low dull chime rung out, the sound of the campus clock tower off in the distance, and with each toll the sound grew louder, more definite as it tolled the moment of Julie’s defeat.

“It’s over, you fat pig. I’ve won! I’ve won!” Vivian laughed as she stared at Julie’s fruitless fist.

In that moment, even as her heart sank into a stomach, Julie’s mind realized one last thing.

She had complete control again. For a moment, just one moment, she might just have a chance. As Vivian began to disappear, leaving behind nothing but her laughter, Julie reached for her pocket watch one last time. A third shift was risky enough. A fourth shift would be courting madness.

But what else was there to do?

She pushed the button.

As the clock tower struck its last heavy chime, the second hand on her watch ticked backward.

"The Scales of Time" Act 2

Here is the complete Act 2 of "The Scales of Time" as we get ready for the final act of the story launching tomorrow. This collection includes Act 2 and Vivian's interlude which sits between act 2 and 3.

Enjoy!

"The Scales of Time" Act 1

We enter Act 3 of "The Scales of Time" tomorrow morning with the release of Chapter 11. To help people new to the patreon and unfamiliar with the story I am reposting what I have so far broken into two acts with the two interludes also there. You theoretically don't need to read the interludes, but I think they do add a nice bit.

Enjoy!

The Fat Making Notebook Works for You: Suggestions Call

Hey, Everybody!

I figured since “One of Those Fat Making Notebooks” really took off and hopefully the rest of the sequels will too, I figured now was a good time to open the door for suggestions as to where you, my wonderful and loyal Patreon patrons, want to see the stories go.

I am looking for the following:

1. Suggestions for settings for where Asami might take the notebook. For example, I already have “The Fat Making Notebook Goes to the Beach”, “The Fat Making Notebook Goes to the Mall”, and “The Fat Making Notebook Goes Back to School”. I’m looking for more settings that lead to eye catching titles with that old school pulpy serial vibe that also lend themselves to inspiration.

2. I’m looking for suggestions of specific transformation scenarios up to and including phrases that might be written in the notebook.

3. Any other ideas you have about the series.

I think I will likely make the next installment of the series as part of Fat Trimmings Volume 30, but I would also love to do a patreon specific Notebook story at some point.

As for Fat Trimmings Volume 28. I got a lot of suggestions for the last two volumes that I still want to go back a revisit, but I might work some ideas posted here into that as well.

Thanks for your time and suggestions.

"A Few Quick Notes": Exclusive Extended Cut

This cut of the first sequel to "One of Those Fat Making Notebooks" features several more transformations and over 1,000 more words. It will be remaining completely exclusive to this patreon as my thanks for all of your support.

Enjoy!

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Asami stared at the notebook in her hands as she sat on the park bench. She wasn’t sure exactly why she felt the need to come to the park on this day, but it was like something inside her told her that the park was the ideal place to cause some troub- I mean mayhe- I mean fun. It was the best place to have some fun and definitely not do irreparable damage to innocent people. No. Anyone she used the notebook on would definitely deserve it just like her vain co-workers, and that lady who cut in front of her at the bakery this morning.

Asami had been waiting patiently, getting ready to order her usual double half-caf mochacocoachino with oatmilk and whipped cream and a double chocolate chip muffin when this skinny bitch full of pretty privilege cut in front of her and demanded to be served first. Well, that was something old Asami might have just let slide, but now, notebook wielding Asami certainly wasn’t going to stand for that.

“The woman who cut in front of me is going to gain fifty pounds in the next minute and only barely fit in her clothes. She will simply think she needs to be better about her dieting, but she is now addicted to muffins and chocolate and will come here every day and gain two hundred pounds over the next year.”

The woman’s frame began to widen as she took on a noticeably pear shape. Her thighs thickened and grew wide saddlebags, and her ass grew wide and dumpy as two blubbery cheeks filled her slack to near bursting. Instead of ripping they looked uncomfortably tight and incredibly unflattering now that her ass was so soft and saggy. They were stretched tight enough to reveal the dimples of cellulite that covered her chunky cheeks. Beyond her thickening ass and thighs, the woman also grew a noticeable muffin top that pushed her blouse up and poured over the waistband of her slacks. Her trim middle was now a prominent pot belly that jiggled as she took her much larger order and turned to walk- almost waddle but not quite- away.

By the time Asami was exiting with her order, the woman was working her way through the third of six muffins, and Asami was now looking forward to checking in on her new favorite regular from time to time.

On her way out the door, another slim entitled woman nearly ran into her and almost spilled her drink. It took a bit of maneuvering, but Asami managed to balance both the open notebook and her drink as she wrote.

“The lady who almost bumped into me will grow a big greedy gut and get an incredible sweet tooth.”

By the time the woman got up to the counter, her slender waist was no more, and as she found herself ordering a pair of double chocolate chip muffins, she found herself with a muffin top of her own. Her gut was now large and quivering as it burst the bottom buttons of her shirt. She came off to everyone around her as a girl who had obviously been fighting to keep sucking in and lost the battle.

As she stood there in a panic, knowing that she should run away and hide, and especially run to work off this gut she hadn’t realized she’d clearly been growing, she instead found herself ordering a doughnut and a sugar filled mochacocoachino, extra large, to go with her muffins. Inside she was screaming, but when she sat down to indulge in what would become her usual breakfast feast, it was pure bliss.

Back at the park, Asami sucked down the last of her mochacocoachino and looked around for potential vic- people to change. As her eyes settled upon a group of vain looking joggers, two women and a man, she knew that they would be a perfect group to start with. 

She looked at their slim bodies, so sculpted. They were just showing off, making everyone else feel bad. Life must be so easy for them. The world would be much better off if they learned what it was like to exercise and yet never be able to lose those stubborn pounds, so she opened her notebook and began to write.

“As they run, each of these three will gain thirty pounds and will never be able to lose the weight no matter how much they work out.”

The next time the three joggers came back past Asami, they were no longer in-shape hardbodies. Instead they were sucking air and looking much chubbier. Rather than looking like the kind of people that run every day, they looked like a bunch of couch potatoes struggling through a New Year’s revolution. They looked like sweaty, out of shape tubbos. They were all lucky to be wearing athletic wear because otherwise they would have split their clothes instead of just spilling out of them.

One of the women had a big muffin top with a ridiculously jiggly pot belly that shook wildly with every step. It was a chunky, sloshing mess pair with thick wobbling love handles. While she had clearly gained weight all over (her thighs were quite wobbly), it was her belly and her breasts that bore the brunt of her weight gain. Her breasts were heavy and strained her sports bra which gave them little support and left them heaving to and fro and causing her to noticeably slow down to readjust herself on multiple occasions.

The man looked equally unsupported as the thirty pounds of fat he had gained went predominant to his torso. Unfortunately for him, he had been showing off his shredded body by running shirtless, and now he was rocking a pretty flabby dad bod complete with an ex-jock style beer belly and an outrageous set of man boobs that flopped in the breeze. Asami could see that his face was as red as a tomato, and she assumed that half of it was from being exhausted and the other half of it was humiliation from feeling like a pathetic jiggling fat boy with his moobies out for all to gawk at.

The second woman was a much more bottom heavy affair. Her thighs took the brunt of her weight gain. While she also had a jiggly muffin top, the most noticeable thing about her were the way that her thunder thighs slapped together as she ran. The flabby thighs quivered and smacked and rubbed together and looked like she was well on her way to becoming a waddler. As the trio passed, Asami watched as the second woman bounced. She had developed quite a flabby blubber butt that was spilling out of her ill-fitting shorts, and her tubby thighs were covered in cellulite.

The trio of formerly fit individuals were now cursed with finding out what it was like to be a normal out of shape member of society forever chasing the stereotypical ideal of thinness. This thought made Asami chuckle.

It also made another woman laugh out loud. Another skinny bitch, fresh off getting a hotdog from a vendor, laughed at the trio as they went by and made some unflattering oinking noises. Asami decided that this would never do.

“The woman with the hotdog will gain two hundred and fifty pounds within the next minute and will be spilling out of her clothes. (Asami didn’t want her clothes to blow and cause too much of a scene.) When she goes to the doctor, they will simply diagnose her with a sudden glandular condition. She will never lose the weight no matter how hard she diets and exercises, but she will also have no other medical problems. (Asami wanted her to live a long time at this new weight.)”

As the vain woman took a bite of her hotdog, she was suddenly struck with an unexplainable but panic inducing feeling. It started as a faint tingling at the tips of her fingers and toes, a sensation that quickly spread throughout her body like wildfire.

Before she could even begin to comprehend what was happening, the woman felt herself swelling up like a balloon, her once-slender frame expanding before her eyes as if possessed by some unseen force. It was like someone had a pump and was inflating her, but instead of air it was jiggling fat. With each passing second, she grew larger and larger, her clothes straining at the seams as they struggled to contain her ballooning form.

She was no longer laughing now as her  arms and legs swelled to twice their normal size. She developed hefty wobbling bingo wings and tree trunk like thunder thighs that shook as the rest of her Her once-flat stomach bulged outwards, rounding and softening with each passing moment as layer upon layer of fat piled on top of one another. It filled out and sagged down as it became a massive spare tire that spilled out from under her shirt and over the waistband of her pants. It fought gravity for as long as it could until it couldn’t anymore and started to sage toward her fat knees.

But perhaps the most shocking transformation of all was the change that took place in the vain woman’s face. Once angular and sculpted, it now swelled and distorted beyond recognition, her features disappearing beneath the layers of fat that continued to accumulate with alarming speed. She developed a doughy double chin and then a third as her cheeks turned to jiggling jowls.

As onlookers stared in disbelief, the woman continued to balloon outwards, her once-slender figure now swollen and bloated beyond all recognition. In the span of just one minute, she had gained the full, staggering, two hundred and fifty pounds, her body transformed into a grotesque parody of its former self. 

As the woman stood there, her newfound bulk swaying unsteadily with each labored breath, she struggled to think about what to do next now that she was an overinflated caricature of her former self. In a panic, she waddled off as fast as her fat legs would carry her. She was determined to make it to a doctor and figure out what the hell was wrong with her. Remarkably, she didn’t have to stop every few feet to catch her breath as she was afraid she would have to do.

Asami nodded at her latest piece of work, closed the notebook and headed off to another part of the park to find some more people to toy with.

While walking in the park, it didn’t take Asami long to find other people worthy of a little comeuppance. 

She found an uptight nanny being a little too overbearing and rude and gave that nanny a gut and a blubber butt for her charge to laugh at. When she saw a shirtless guy stretching during his run, whistling at some ladies, she turned his six pack abs into a beer belly and gave him a nice saggy set of moobs. The next set of ladies that came jogging by and laughed at his dad bod found their own gates slowed down by guts of their own with some softer thighs thrown in instead of bigger breasts. It was shaping up to be a productive day, and yet she did not feel like she was done.

So she continued oneward.

Unsurprisingly she found another slim woman in athleisure wear attempting to jog through the park. Surprisingly however, she had a little dog with her, and instead of focusing on walking the dog, she seemed far more interested in trying to maintain her pace which means she was often having to stop to pull the poor dog along and was starting to shout at it in frustration.

The poor dog.

Asami looked on with horror for just a moment more before she knew she had to put an end to this, and her mind came to the logical conclusion that if this woman was fat enough that she would be forced to slow down and let her dog enjoy the walk. So, with the notebook’s help, that’s what she set out to do.

“The lady walking her dog will gain one hundred pounds, mostly to her lower half. Her clothes will grow with her and everyone will think she has gained this weight over the last year because she has gotten greedy and lazy…”

Then she looked at the dog.

“because the only exercise she gets is from the regularly scheduled nice long walks that she takes her dog on…”

She nodded at the dog and then…

“And she will be too greedy to leave behind any scraps of food that would potentially hinder her dog’s health in any way while making sure that her dog is properly taken care of with fine healthy and delicious dog food that she will definitely not have any interest in herself.”

Asami thought the odds of the woman developing a strange desire to eat dog food was slim to none, but when cursing someone with incredible gluttony, she figured it couldn’t hurt to be specific. After all, she was doing this whole thing for the dog.

Soon, Asami was able to watch the woman start to swell from the bottom down. It was weird to watch her sneakers widen as Asami assumed that she was growing big fat feet complete with sausage toes. The rest of the weight gain was far more noticeable. The woman’s athleisure pants had previously exposed her calves and ankles, and Asami watched with great amusement as they formed into big bloated cankles. And the fat obviously didn’t stop there as it stretched further up the woman’s legs.

Her thighs softened and swelled against the sweatpants. Although the clothing stretched with her, as her athletic thighs grew thick saddlebags, it became very clear that the fabric was straining to accommodate all of this new flesh. The pants grew so tight from the immense amount of weight that was taking over her thunder thighs that the imprints of her cellulite could clearly be seen. 

Her ass got plumper as well. In fact, plumper would be an understatement. As the fat pumped in, her tight ass grew plump, then plush, then absolutely massive. She grew two gigantic, jiggly ass cheeks filled with soft quivering fat. Her blubbery buns bounced up and down at the slightest hint of movement, and she had to keep readjust her pants because the bulbous cheeks kept wanting to crest over the top and show off her cellulite to the world.

The woman's ass was not the only thing that grew fat enough to peek out of her clothes. Her stomach also lost all definition and grew fat and flabby enough to surge forward and spill out from underneath her light running jacket. It was a stretch marked covered gut that hung like a useless sack of fat.

The rest of her expanded as well. Her breasts grew soft and saggy. Her arms grew fat and flabby. Even her face became bloated with fat as she grew jowls and a doughy double chin. It was clear she had the body now of someone who loved to eat and hated exercise. And as much as the top of her grew, the bottom half grew twice as large.

Once the fat reached her face, it was like the fat tumbled back downward and her ass grew into twin bean bags and her thighs became tree trunks. It was very clear that she was now only here to walk her dog, and as she waddled about, she looked like she was eager to get home and out of the hot sun, to sit on her well worn couch and stuff her face with junk food. But it was also clear that she was now so ponderously slow and needed so many breaks that her dog was able to meander about, sniffing and enjoying the day to his little heart’s content.

Asami felt very pleased. It always felt good to do good in this world. Her and her notebook were proving to be very helpful indeed.

"Fat Trimmings" Volume 27

I had an unexpected meeting come up that really ate up a lot of my day, but I was able to push through and still get this done tonight.

There are four stories, two rather short ones and two longer. "The Fat Making Notebook Goes Back to School" could honestly be a standalone and will be when I get around to making an extended cut of it. For now...

Enjoy!

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“Just Accept It”

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Just accept it. You’re not the skinny little thing you used to be. You’re older now, and fatter now, a lot fatter. You’ve been slacking on your diet and packing it on. You know that. So just look down at the pudgy gut you’ve gotten. Feel it. It’s heavy isn’t it? I bet that weight is a surprise because of how soft it is. It feels like a pillow, but there’s just so much fat to hold that of course it’s a hefty gut you’ve got there in your chubby hands. 

You used to have abs there. I remember. Those hands used to be slender, and they used to love to run themselves up and down your sexy abs and show them off. But those beautiful muscles are gone now. They’ve been replaced by soft buttery fat. 

You were so powerful. So vain. So in control. You used to love being in charge, a bad boss bitch. You were proud of ordering around your subordinates. You used to love making others feel bad, demeaning them over their skills and their bodies, especially their bodies. What a cruel woman you were, a cruel dominating woman.

And now you’re a submissive little piggy. You just don’t want to admit it yet. But you love relaxing, lazing about, eating. You can’t get enough of the eating. Even when you were thin you loved to eat. That was such a point of pride for you, that you could eat whatever you wanted without gaining any weight. You’d show off your eating skills one day and your abs the next. And then you’d have the nerve to call fat people lazy when you barely had to do any work at all to stay slim. What a charmed life you led, coasting from head cheerleader and prom queen to sorority president and then high powered executive. You’ve just gone from success to success all while remaining free of stress and slim and sexy.

But time catches up with everyone. And time broke your metabolism, and this is you now with a gut in your hands and thunder thighs pressing together all the time, and a fat ass that can’t fit into any of your fine business suit pants. You’re a real tub of lard now, a cow as you would have called yourself if your past self was looking at you right now.

So come on. Imagine you’re young and hot again and what you’d do to a woman who looks like you do now. Start mooing. Start oinking. Start thinking of the names you’d call your, Piggy, Fatso, Lardo, Porker, Blubber Butt, Gut Girl. You’re exactly that kind of person you would find to be lazy and disgusting.

You can’t get enough of it all though, can you? Diet’s aren’t for you. And after a stress free life do you really want to deal with the stress of trying to lose weight? No. Nonsense. Just keep eating. Just get fatter. Just accept who you are now.

You’re a piggy now, a plump piggy princess who gets to be fat and lazy and spoiled. This is your new life, and sure, the people who used to be your vain friends have turned on you, and plenty of the people you used to step on and step over are loving the schadenfreude now that you’re fat and out of the way. But you know they’re just jealous. They wish they could afford to just sit back and stuff themselves to their heart’s content, blowing themselves up binging on junk food, delicious junk food. You’ve got nothing else you have to do, so their cruel words don’t matter. They’ve got their cake, and you get to eat it too.

So just accept it and eat up.

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The Fat Making Notebook Goes Back to School

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Asami didn’t often return to her old college campus. She didn’t have particularly fond memories of the place. She had tried rushing a sorority, Meta Delta Chai, her freshman year and was of course crushingly humiliated because of her weight. She had excelled in her classes, but not at making friends. Although the few she did make were close, she was always a bit bitter that she had never achieved the popularity she wanted.

So why had she come back?

The notebook was clutched in her hand as she strode onto the campus possessed with a confidence that she had never had in the four years she was there.

And the first thing she did when she got on campus was fattened a random woman just for fun.

It was almost as if the notebook told her to do it. She felt a little twitch in her hand and looked over at this woman who must have been a sophomore or junior. She just had a way of carrying herself with a superiority that said she was a skinny bitch. Asami could feel it. As she gripped the notebook tightly she just had this real overwhelming sense that this thin girl must have felt so superior to everyone for avoiding the freshman fifteen. She definitely had a head cheerleader, prom queen, I’m the privileged bitch in charge attitude.

The notebook wouldn’t let her get away with that.

Asami opened the notebook and went to work.

“The blonde in front of me will instantly gain fifteen pounds and assume it is because she has been loose with her diet, but she will gain another fifteen pounds over the rest of this school year and an additional fifteen pounds for each year she’s in college and for one year after. She will never be able to lose the weight.”

The girl made up for lost time with fifteen pounds that settled heavily in her belly. She was wearing a midriff baring shirt that soon reveal a soft starter belly which was beginning to pooch over the edge of her waistband and was putting quite a bit of strain on the button of her shorts. The blonde’s whole body softened slightly, but it was so disappointing to only see her gain fifteen pounds. It may have been slightly embarrassing for the girl, and stressful, but it wasn’t near what Asami felt she deserved, and she didn’t have the patience to wait for more weight.

Regretting her previous scribing, Asami went back to the notebook to make some corrections, but when she went to put pen to paper she instead felt a shock that coursed through her hand and wouldn’t let her write.

“Okay… got to let things play out I guess. Lesson learned.”

Still eager to see someone punished and transformed right now, Asami turned to a leggy brunette who was strutting across campus like she had the aspirations of being a supermodel and figured that she would do. Asami did some quick math in her head and then wrote.

“The brunette strutting across campus in front of me will gain seventy-five pounds over the course of the next minute and never be able to lose the weight no matter how hard she tries.”

And then, before the ink was even dry she quickly scratched out seventy-five and made it an even hundred.

The brunette began to balloon in all directions, starting with her stomach which began to swell like a balloon filled with fat. In no time at all, the button her jean shorts blew right off and landed somewhere in the nearby grass. Her belly grew blubbery pretty quickly, spilling over the waistband of her jean shorts, forming a large muffin top as she grew thick love handles that matched her gut and her new back fat.

Down below her toned legs began to grow, becoming thick thunder thighs whose fat was choked by the holes in her jean shorts. Her chunky cellulite covered thighs were soft and the fat spilled over the edges of the legs of her shorts and made it look like she had two more muffins on her legs. Their shape was soon distorted further as they grew until they pressed together completely and spread her staggering legs a part.

Her perfect bubble but became a proper blubber butt as her cheeks grew chunky. As her fat ass grew flabby and the rest of her body kept bubbling with fat, the pressure began to grow too much for the poor pair of shorts. They began to groan under the pressure until they couldn’t groan anymore.

Then those shorts began to break.

It was like a dam breaking and letting the fat pour through the cracks, and as the cracks grew wider, they ripped farther and faster as the fat rushed forward to fill the space. The back side of her pants split as her blubbery cheeks grew bigger and bigger. She was brimming with fat, bouncing with blubber that kept coming. Buttons popped off her shirt as her belly grew further and her flesh was fully exposed. The last of those buttons popped off thanks to her ballooning cleavage.

Her fat face jiggled as she panic; her jowls and double chin wobbled like crazy, and as her chubby hands desperately pawed at her belly fat and tried to shove it back into her body, her fattening arms tore the seams of her sleeves. 

The brunette blubbered in fear and sadness as her previously taut body continued to betray her and blossom with buttery fat. Her gut continued to grow, the flab oozing through the fat fingers. Her thighs were so thick that it was clear she would be waddling for the rest of her life. She staggered about until she fell down on her well cushioned ass and then she just sort of rocked around there crying in a fetal position as several concerned people came rushing over to check on her, including the now softer blonde.

Asami’s concern lay elsewhere though. She left the brunette to her new life and headed off to the dining hall.

There were several people that Asami knew were likely still on campus, people who Asami knew were still vain students who needed to be taught a lesson, and Asami was eager to be the instructor.

As she made her way to the dining hall she passed by the quad which was teaming with college students hanging about between classes and enjoying the glorious day. Asami saw two women making out while sitting on a bench keenly exploring each other’s lithe bodies. She felt very happy for them.

She also felt rather mischievous.

“The two women making out will grow plump bellies and more, growing fat enough until their chubby bits touch without them realizing that anything is different.”

The two lithe lesbians began to grow, without even noticing, their faces began to grow fatter even as they mashed together in their makeout session. They both grew doughy double chins that wobbled as they kissed. Their chests became heaving bosoms as their breasts filled with fat, surging outward and sagging down, bouncing with each movement. Their thighs thickened as well, but the biggest change to their slim figures befell their bellies.

Their abs melted into pudgy potbellies that peaked out from under their shirts and pooched forward until that pudge pressed together. The two continued to embrace unabated by their now quivering flesh, and Asami smiled knowing that her work here was done and she could continue on to the dining hall.

The dining hall held a lot of bad memories for Asami. It was here that so many people made fun of her for her size. They made her feel awkward whenever she would pick out food to eat, and their cruel words would often lead to her picking up even more food and seeking it for comfort. 

Even as she was getting ready to enter the dining hall she was interrupted by some slender chick who bumped into her.

“Watch where you’re going, fat ass!”

The vain vixen ignored Asami as her fat body shook with fury. She would soon regret bumping into Asami and treating her like that, even if she wouldn’t understand why.

Asami once again opened the notebook.

“The bitch who bumped into me will gain a fat, flabby, saggy ass and become a chronic overeater.”

She snapped the notebook shut again.

“Enjoy the road to obesity, Twiggy.”

Once inside the dining hall, Asami found another one of her old bullies, Jillian.

Jillian was an extremely fit woman who prided herself on her physical activity, and she was also two years younger than Asami which meant she was still in her senior year and still working her on campus job. Jillian hated her on campus job, but her parents were insistent that she maintain one if she wanted their help paying for her tuition, so Jillian reluctantly found herself what she considered to be one of the easiest ones on campus.

She was in charge of swiping ID cards at the dining hall for student’s meal plans, or taking cash in advance for guests like Asami. It was easy and brainless and caused a lot of sitting which meant Jillian always felt like she had to hit the gym extra hard after her shifts. The reason Jillian had taken this job was because she was not particularly smart, and although she wasn’t exactly a college level athlete either, she was counting on her well toned body to lead her into a career in modeling and social influencing. 

When Asami got to her counter, Jillian looked her up and down with judgment.

“Eww. Looks like the cow’s come home.”

“You’re still a skinny bitch, I see,” snapped back Asami.

“And you’re still a fat pig.”

Asami and Jillian glared at each other before Asami made the next move.

“Still friends with Ally?” she asked.

Ally was Jillian’s best friend. They had been in the same sorority, Meta Delta Chai, where Ally had been Jillian’s Big Sister, and Asami was hoping that she had kept contact with her Little.

“Of course! She’s working in res life now.”

“Perfect,” Asami thought. This was excellent information to have and put to use later.

For now she just nodded politely, paid her fee and walked into the dining hall proper before ducking behind a pillar where she could have a clear line of sight of Jillian from behind.

That’s when she took out the notebook and went to work.

“Jillian will gain a lot of weight in her lower half. She will become very pear shaped and will grow fatter as a result of no longer working out.”

Toned muscles began to melt as Jillian’s previously taut thighs filled with blubber. The flab filled out her seat and soon her fleshy thighs pressed together. While, Jillian did gain a little bit of a paunch, and the muscle definition through her body was lost, the majority of the weight gain settled down below. Her thighs became like heavy sandbags filled with fat. Her saddle bags sagged over the edge of her chair and the flabby flesh became marred with cellulite.

Her seat became more comfortable as her ass cheeks ballooned into two brand new cushions. It was sitting on two plush pillows of fat and raised Jillian up in her seat as her chunky cheeks pressed her pants to the limit. Jillian’s tight ass became a jumbo blubber butt in a matter of moments and any observers walking behind her could easily see a half moon as her flabby, cellulite covered ass cheeks pushed out the top of her too tight pants.

Asami laughed at the sight of Jillian. She knew that Jillian was now definitevly pear shaped and doomed to spend her life getting fatter. With Jillian firmly stuck in the fat lane, Asami was free to grab some food and find some other unsuspecting people to change.

As she grabbed her own food, Asami found a few vain looking people that she made some minor changes to, a new sweet tooth for one, a full blown junk food addiction to another. One person was cursed with a slower metabolism. Someone who looked at her funny was given the freshman fifteen and then some.

When she got back to her seat, she saw what appeared to be one of the new campus janitor’s. Asami didn’t recognize her from her time at college, and this woman was decidedly recognizable. She was a massive woman, arguably the fattest that Asami had ever seen. The woman was an absolute blob of fat, a mass of rolls and folds, blubber that filled her oversized jumpsuit to near bursting. It was a miracle that she was able to move around as much as she did.

And as the fat woman moved she was followed by three catty tormentors. These women looked older than normal college students, but not by much. Asami guessed that they must have been in grad school or something, and they seemed to be making sport out of making fun of the poor fat janitor.

It made Asami’s blood boil. She immediately began to think up ways to punish the trio of grad school bitches. She thought about making each of them even fatter than the janitor they were making fun of, of immediately turning each of them into immobile blobs of fat, of forcing them to burst out of their fancy clothes in front of every and leave them their helpless on on display for everyone to make fun of.

But as she opened up the notebook and went to write things down, she realized she couldn’t. She tried to, but it was like something wasn’t letting her hand move, like a voice in the back of her head was telling her not to do it, and while she tried not to listen she was powerless to stop herself from just shutting the book and turning her back on the poor fat janitor.

Angry that she couldn’t do anything about the grad school students, Asami scanned the room to find the next best victim. It didn’t take her long to find her quarry as she soon found another skinny vixen making fun of a fat girl at the buffet line.

“The thin woman making fun of the fat one at the buffet line will gain an uncontrollable appetite. She will also instantly gain weight until she is the fatter of the two.”

Asami was about to stop when she remembered some basic safety protocols. Having her burst her clothes in front of this many people would be a bad look, too much attention.

“Her clothes will grow with her but will fit poorly and showcase her fat.”

And then Asami took a deep breathe and decided to temper her temper.

“Everyone will think she’s just gained a massive amount of weight over the last year, and her and the fat girl will be best friends now.”

Asami felt her eyes roll at that last bit.

The bully began to blow up like a balloon, filling with flab that stretched her clothes to their limits. Although the clothes she was wearing became magically elastic and grew like rubber stretched across her blubber, it did not stretch enough to be comfortable, and constantly remained clearly too small giving the former bully the appearence of someone who was in great denial about her growing size, something that would surely add to her embarassment. Her bulbous belly spilled over her pants, and the button just wouldn’t button. Luckily for her, her plump pot belly hung over enough to cover the gap in her pants, so nobody could tell that her pants weren’t buttoned.

But they could see the bright stretch marks that covered her belly, a sure sign of her rapid weight gain over the last year, they would note. She grew love handles to complete the muffin top along with a generous amount of back fat.

Her ass grew fat and flabby. It lost its shape and began to sag. It stuck out far but hung low giving her the quality of a broken shelf. The bottoms of her blubbery cheeks pressed against her fat thighs which had gone from trim to tree trunks and given her a distinct waddle. Her entire flabby lower half was riddled with cellulite.

Not to be outdone, her upper half grew as well. Above a greedy gut that quickly split into a gelatinous double belly were a pair of breasts that suddenly surged forward. They grew in volume but also in weight and began to sag heavily. Even her arms grew immensely flabby with jiggling bingo wings.

The former bully’s face grew fat with jiggling jowls and a double chin that wobbled as she laughed only now she wasn’t laughing with at the fat girl whom she was now much fatter than but with her as they piled their plates high with cupcakes.

Having done her good deed for the day, Asami finished her meal and then headed off to the residential life offices eager to cause more punishment.

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“The Adipose Zone: In the Eyes of the Beholder”

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You’re traveling through another dimension, a journey not just of touch and smell but of taste. A journey into a realm whose boundaries are as elastic as a well worn pair of pants and whose limits are only what you can think of. There’s the signpost up ahead. The next stop? The Adipose Zone. 

Behold now, if you will, a young woman whose life is full of promise but for whom the future is never enough. Iris is the kind of woman for whom everything has been given and nothing has satisfied, a vain woman whose green eyes can never see what she has and can only see the things in others that she wants for herself.

Sitting across from her studying for her midterm exam is her roommate Violet, a kind girl equally as gorgeous as Iris and ten times as kind. Violet’s positive attitude is the reason she finds herself to be the queen of the college social scene. But in Iris’ mind it, it’s all her beauty.

And that’s what has Iris sitting at her desk contemplating a small toy, an enchanted miniature of a creature from D&D lore, a trinket that she hopes will be able to bend Violet’s beauty to her will.

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Iris stared at the Beholder and the Beholder stared back at her with each of its eleven eyes. It was a disgusting thing to look at, a great round creature with its giant toothy maw, and its ten gnarled eyestalks surrounding one large center eye that took up most of its spherical body. It was a hideous creature even if it was just a bit of enchanted plastic.

At least that’s what that fat nerd she bought it off of said it was. A totem, a creature who could twist beauty. That’s what she was promised. Iris felt crazy about buying it at first, but then she realized that she had so much money thanks to her father that she might as well indulge in one crazy thing on the extremely slim chance that it would get her what she wanted. She could afford to be wrong. But if she was right…

It would be everything.

But where to start? Something smaller perhaps, but noticeable.

Iris twisted her mind thinking about what to start with when it came to transforming Violet. It felt like her brain was in knots agonizing over the choice until she so Violet’s feet hanging off of her bed.

Violet’s feet were perfect, delicate, well curved, impeccably pedicured. There were no signs of callouses and her toenails were always perfectly painted. They were the kind of feet that would have brought Violet a lot of money if she wanted to sell of them on the internet.

So Iris thought about making Violet’s feet fat, not just fat but ugly in every way she could think of.

And as one of the Beholder’s eyestalks began to twist, Iris watched as the change took place.

Violet’s previously delicate feet began to swell with fat becoming large and bloated, swollen red and with rough calluses and long chipped yellow nails on her sausage toes. Her fat flippers brought a chuckle to Iris’ lips and caused Violet to look up at from her book.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“Whatever.”

Violet went back to her book. But as she did so, Iris watched her eyes glance at her feet. Violet had to have seen them, she had to have noticed there was a change unless….

“She doesn’t realize anything’s happening. Her whole reality is shifting. It’s like it’s always been this way. Perfect,” Iris thought with glee and then focused on her next set of changes.

Violet’s legs began to swell, first from her ankles and then two her calves as they fused together to form thick cankles. The fat continued to flow upward, robbing Violet’s thighs of their tone and replacing it with rich adipose, spongy fat covered in cellulite that jiggled as it pulsed through her body until her pasty thighs began to press together.

Unsatisfied with merely making Violet’s legs more voluptuous, Iris focused on what she wanted yet again and another eyestalk twisted as Violet’s legs to wiry hair that started small but grew thick and greasy. 

Iris grinned as the transformation kept progressing. Violet’s ass began to grow, and even though Iris couldn’t see it directly because Violet was laying down, she could see Violet subtly rise in her bed, and she knew that Violet’s ass cheeks were becoming much more cushion and likely covered with cellulite. In fact, she focused on that and made sure that Violet’s ass cheeks were covered in cellulite. Violet’s ass grew fat and flabby, and if she was standing it would sag and wobble about at the slightest motion.

Next grew Violet’s stomach. Her abs turned to flab and grew into a ponderous potbelly that spilled out from under her shirt. She grew a thick muffin top. Her love handles were impressive, but they didn’t quite match the sack of fat that was her gut. Iris loved the hilarious size of Violet’s stomach, so she made another change to Violet’s appetite and desire for junk food specifically. All around Violet empty bags of junk appeared. Iris thought it would be even better if it wasn’t just that Violet was a fatty. She wanted to turn Iris into a big fat lazy slob.

So the empty cartons and dirty dishes began to pile up, and the room itself became musty with the smell of stale food. It was unpleasant, but Violet didn’t seem to notice, and Iris didn’t care. She focused on continuing to change her formerly thin roommate.

Pushing forward, the only part of Violet that didn’t get bigger was her breasts which instead became quite saggy but also far smaller. In contrast to that, Violet’s arms grew flabby, and sprouted hair just like her legs. Iris made sure to have thick tufts of hair grow in Violet’s armpits, and could smell even from where she was the resulting BO that came from Violet’s fat sweaty arms.

Finally, Violet’s face grew fat, jowly and greasy with huge patches of bright red acne that even spread to her doughy double chin. Violet’s hair went limp and greasy and her teeth went yellow. She was a full on fat slob. She looked like absolute fat trailer trash, and her whole side of the room absolutely reeked.

And yet…

Iris couldn’t help but make one more change. She focused back on Violet’s fat flabby ass and…..

PPPPPPHHHRHRRRRRRRRRBBBBBBBBBTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!

Violet lifted her leg and let loose a tremendous fart. It was the crowning achievement of her transformation, and Iris was absolutely content as the Beholder shut its final central eye and fell to her desk completely inert.

Violet looked absolutely disgusting; she smelt absolutely disgusting; she was absolutely disgusting. Iris loved it. The only thing she didn’t love was the way the room smelt thanks to her new fat slob of a roomate, so as Violet let loose with another blast of gas, Iris decided to take the opportunity to step into the hallway to get some fresh air.

Only the air wasn’t so fresh. It was stale and reeked just like her room of BO and flatulence. And then, she felt someone slam into her.

“Watch where you’re going, Twiggy.”

Iris turned around to see a tremendously fat woman trucking through her. She was so confused for a few moments that it didn’t click until a few seconds later when she realized…

“Carrie?”

Her friend Carrie was an absolute smoke show, a gorgeous, glamorous girl ready to be a model at a moment’s notice. The woman that hit her was a fat sweaty pig, but then… the eyes…

“No. No.”

Iris ran down the hallway and passed a couple of hogs pressing their fat bodies together, and Iris couldn’t help but feel like she recognized them too, and it made her want to vomit.

She burst out into the fresh air and staggered around the quad. All around her were fatties. Total hambeast with their bingo wings jiggling as they stuffed more food in their fat faces, walruses taking up the benches in the quad, cows lounging in the grass. And the flatulence was all around her.

Several wobbling women came waddling past Iris, and she recognized the look in their eyes. It was the look of disdain that she typically held for fatties like them. They looked at her and let loose with barbs disguised as conversation between the three of them but loud enough for Iris to hear.

“Look at that skinny.”

“What a twig.”

“And is she wearing perfume?”

“Gross!”

The last comment was punctuated by a fart right as her fat ass wobbled past Iris, a crude display of dominance.

Iris’ slender hands tugged at her hair as her whole body trembled.

“It’s not fair.”

She spun around and around, closing her eyes, opening them, closing them, and opening htem again. And it was all always the same.

“It’s not fair. It’s not right!”

Iris pinched her arms and screamed. She ran up to the nearest fat woman that she could find and shook her by the fat, sweaty, flabby arms.

“Don’t you see? It’s not supposed to be like this. It’s not- it’s not right. It’s not FAIR!”

The fat woman shoved Iris away with her big belly.

“Get your thin paws off me you damn skinny bitch!”

She waddled away and left Iris dumbfounded.

How would she live in this world now? How could she do it?

Iris thought. And strained. And….

pfffffft

It was a start. The smell that hit her nose was unpleasant, and it disgusted her to know it was all her and all by choice. And it was worse to know that she still had a long way to go. But there was nothing else to do.

So she headed off to the dining hall.

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Iris thought she could twist one person’s beauty to her will and ended up twisting the entirety of her world. Now she’s an outcast in the world of her own creation, a lesson learned the hard way, that beauty truly is in the eyes of the Beholder, here in the Adipose Zone.

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“Thick Burger is Good For You

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INT. A pristine Thick Burger with gleaming countertops and an American flag proudly displayed on the wall right next to pictures of happy people eating big thick burgers and salty fries. Bocephus Conroy stands in his white suit with a bright red white and blue tie. He takes a big bite of a Thick Burger and sets it down.

BOCEPHUS

“Oh my, that’s good. There’s nothing like a delicious b-bite of a b-big juicy Thick Burger burger. And don’t worry friend, I’ll be getting b-back to you. I just have a few more words for our other friends here.”

He turns back to the audience.

BOCEPHUS

“I’m proud that here at Thick Burger we get to deliver fine wholesome food made with high quality ingredients to high quality people like you. And I’m not the only one. Don’t you agree, girls?”

The camera pans to Ashley and Monica in their mermaid costumes. They are holding onto the last vestiges of their classic model looks, but they’re noticeably chubbier and clearly struggling to suck in their guts as they munch on their Thick Burger fish sandwiches.

ASHLEY AND MONICA

(mumbling with their mouths full) “Yes, sir, Big Poppa B.”

Bocephus flashes a million dollar smile.

BOCEPHUS

“That’s me. And I’m proud to be the poppa of his family owned and operated b-business. And that’s what Thick Burger is all about, family, taking care of you and yours, whether that’s by giving you a lovely night out in person of the convenience of us delivery right to your door. It’s about giving you comfort and opportunity, the opportunity to choose what you want to eat for you, and your family. And that’s why we’re expanding our menu options to include even more healthier choices. And to introduce those options, I have friend of the family of social media mogul, Ms. bBetsy Jones.”

The camera pans to Betsy Jones who is looking a far cry from her slim and sexy newsfluencer days. She isn’t nearly as fat as Bocephus or many of Thick Burger’s customers, but she looks well on her way there. She is a redundantly chunky girl. She is bloated and sweaty and caked in makeup to try and make her look less bloated and sexy. Her belly is fighting with her blouse with its lower half tucked into her strained skirt. She is wearing a power suit jacket whose sleeves are clearly tight around her chunkier arms. She is clearly doing everything she can to give the appearance of being the slim and sexy influencer that she was, but the pounds are proving to be too much as she pitches the healthier options for which she had sold her waistline to get put on the menu.

BETSY

“That’s right, Big Poppa B. Here at Thick Burger we are proud to offer an array of new salad options and healthy sides like our sliced apples. You can enjoy them on their own, in a salad or on a burger. And we’re now proud to say that goat cheese is on the menu. I love Thick Burger’s newest salad. A play on the Waldorf salad, the Thaldorf is fresh apples, grapes, celery, candied walnuts and goat cheese all on a bed of kale and dressed with our in house made mayonnaise. I love to get mine with the avocado because it’s the good kind of fat.”

Betsy takes a huge bite of salad that is positively drenched in mayonnaise. As she chews, her double chin is evident, and becomes even more noticeable as splotches of mayonnaise drip onto it.

Bocephus steps back into frame.

BOCEPHUS

“That’s right. And here at Thick Burger we’re so committed to our new health initiatives, we’re also proud to announce Camp Thick Burger, a fitness camp designed to promote body positivity while also helping our customers grow and maintain a healthier lifestyle. That’s right, as always, we’ve got big things going on at Thick Burger, and we can’t wait to have you be a part of it.”

The camera pans out to show Betsy, Ashley and Monica all stuffing their faces. All three have given up on sucking in their guts and quietly munch away as the screen fades to black.

100 Patrons! A Thank You and What's to Come

Wow! 100 patrons paying at the same time. Amazing! While I thought this number was very possible, I did not think I would hit it this soon. (Of course, that number might shift slightly during the week, but hopefully in the positive direction.)

I wanted to take the time to thank each and every one of you, especially those of you who have been with me since the last week of December and into January, those early adapters who have been with me for pretty much this entire ride (which is again way shorter so far than I thought it would be.)

Thanks to all of my patrons who have joined throughout the process including obviously the ones who just saw "One of Those Fat Making Notebooks" and "Trading Influence" and joined within the last week.

And of course everyone who has joined in between. Each and every one of you have had a profound impact on my life. I'm never going to make a living writing smut. But I have the start of actual savings because people like you put value in the stories that I tell, and that's an amazing honor.

I mean that, truly. To know that I get to write, this wonderful passion that I have had for years, and get to officially upgrade it from hobby to steadily paying side gig is bonkers; it's overwhelming; and it's all because of people like you. More than the money, it is an endless thrill to know that there is an audience out there who enjoys my work enough to support as much as you do.

So what's happening this week to celebrate?

Well, the goal for tonight is to get "Fat Trimmings" Volume 27 posted. It has four stories:

"Just Accept It" - A feeder talks to a would be feedee who had changed significantly over time.

"The Fat Making Notebook Goes Back to School" - Like a studio eager to rush a big budget sequel, this story sees the return of the Fat Making Notebook (which has already technically had three other sequels) as Asami returns to her college campus to seek some revenge.

"The Adipose Zone: Beauty is in the Eyes of the Beholder" - A vain college student uses a mysterious idol to twist the appearance of her beautiful roommate with unexpected results.

"Thick Burger is Good For You" - Bocephus Conroy, President and CEO of Thick Burger, a proud, family run company, espouses Thick Burger's new healthy initiatives including it's new healthy menu options and it's brand new fat camp!

The first two stories are done, the third is started, and I don't think the Thick Burger story is going to take me that long to write as it will definitely be a shorter intro to a larger piece.

Tomorrow, I'm hoping to release an exclusive extended cut of "A Few Quick Notes" to match the timing of releasing "Fat Trimmings" Volume 21 on Deviant Art.

This week I'm also planning on releasing the next chapter of "The Scales of Time" , and if I'm extra productive I might even get the rest of the epilogue of "Nightmare Pigs" done, but that is likely a next week project.

I'll also be announcing the results of our latest Exclusive Cuts poll which is still up and running, and I'll be holding an AMA where you can ask me any questions you want (that don't involve my personal life) because that seems like exactly the kind of self-indulgent thing one does when they amass any kind of significant audience.

Exciting stuff ahead that I hope you...

Enjoy!

"The Fat Making Notebook Goes to School" a "Fat Trimmings" Teaser

This sequel to "One of Those Fat Making Notebooks" will be in "Fat Trimmings" Volume 27, and eventually I will be making it into a longer extended cut with patreon exclusive content just like I did with "One of Those Fat Making Notebooks". There's a lot more transformations to come in this story, but for now....

Enjoy!

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Asami didn’t often return to her old college campus. She didn’t have particularly fond memories of the place. She had tried rushing a sorority, Meta Delta Chai, her freshman year and was of course crushingly humiliated because of her weight. She had excelled in her classes, but not at making friends. Although the few she did make were close, she was always a bit bitter that she had never achieved the popularity she wanted.

So why had she come back?

The notebook was clutched in her hand as she strode onto the campus possessed with a confidence that she had never had in the four years she was there.

And the first thing she did when she got on campus was fattened a random woman just for fun.

It was almost as if the notebook told her to do it. She felt a little twitch in her hand and looked over at this woman who must have been a sophomore or junior. She just had a way of carrying herself with a superiority that said she was a skinny bitch. Asami could feel it. As she gripped the notebook tightly she just had this real overwhelming sense that this thin girl must have felt so superior to everyone for avoiding the freshman fifteen. She definitely had a head cheerleader, prom queen, I’m the privileged bitch in charge attitude.

The notebook wouldn’t let her get away with that.

Asami opened the notebook and went to work.

“The blonde in front of me will instantly gain fifteen pounds and assume it is because she has been loose with her diet, but she will gain another fifteen pounds over the rest of this school year and an additional fifteen pounds for each year she’s in college and for one year after. She will never be able to lose the weight.”

The girl made up for lost time with fifteen pounds that settled heavily in her belly. She was wearing a midriff baring shirt that soon reveal a soft starter belly which was beginning to pooch over the edge of her waistband and was putting quite a bit of strain on the button of her shorts. The blonde’s whole body softened slightly, but it was so disappointing to only see her gain fifteen pounds. It may have been slightly embarrassing for the girl, and stressful, but it wasn’t near what Asami felt she deserved, and she didn’t have the patience to wait for more weight.

Regretting her previous scribing, Asami went back to the notebook to make some corrections, but when she went to put pen to paper she instead felt a shock that coursed through her hand and wouldn’t let her write.

“Okay… got to let things play out I guess. Lesson learned.”

Still eager to see someone punished and transformed right now, Asami turned to a leggy brunette who was strutting across campus like she had the aspirations of being a supermodel and figured that she would do. Asami did some quick math in her head and then wrote.

“The brunette strutting across campus in front of me will gain seventy-five pounds over the course of the next minute and never be able to lose the weight no matter how hard she tries.”

And then, before the ink was even dry she quickly scratched out seventy-five and made it an even hundred.

The brunette began to balloon in all directions, starting with her stomach which began to swell like a balloon filled with fat. In no time at all, the button her jean shorts blew right off and landed somewhere in the nearby grass. Her belly grew blubbery pretty quickly, spilling over the waistband of her jean shorts, forming a large muffin top as she grew thick love handles that matched her gut and her new back fat.

Down below her toned legs began to grow, becoming thick thunder thighs whose fat was choked by the holes in her jean shorts. Her chunky cellulite covered thighs were soft and the fat spilled over the edges of the legs of her shorts and made it look like she had two more muffins on her legs. Their shape was soon distorted further as they grew until they pressed together completely and spread her staggering legs a part.

Her perfect bubble but became a proper blubber butt as her cheeks grew chunky. As her fat ass grew flabby and the rest of her body kept bubbling with fat, the pressure began to grow too much for the poor pair of shorts. They began to groan under the pressure until they couldn’t groan anymore.

Then those shorts began to break.