The BFLO - by ec (~BBWs , Competition)

[elroycohen]

~BBW, Competition – A small town competition that has blossomed into a large event, takes place

The BFLO
by Elroy Cohen

It’s a beautiful day for sports and as the sun rises on the large open field that will host today’s games all the hundreds of spectators are anxiously awaiting what promises to be an awesome sporting event.

It is in fact day one of the iconic weeklong event that has come to be known as the Big Fat Lady Olympics and the crowd is in a frenzy as they await the first event.

What started out as a friendly way to settle a wager between two drunken farmers who argued which of them had spoiled their wives fatter while still remaining nimble enough to help out on the farm has blossomed into a phenomenon that brings people from all over the country to both watch and compete. Dozens of female athletes take part in a wide ranging multitude of events. Races, one on one competitive battles that are much more creative in nature, and for those who care for them, there are even size comparison events.

The one caveat to these events, that is somewhat given away in its name, is the fact that all competitors must be obese women. No lightweights in this division. Self conscious salad eating waifs need not apply to these events. Although most agree it might be fun to watch them try.

The first event on the agenda is the Big Belly Battle, where it helps to not only be fat but also carry the bulk of that fat in your paunch. Set up in a single elimination tournament the battles are usually pretty heated.

On the playing field is a circle slightly larger in diameter then the typical sumo ring. The goal is simple; knock your opponent silly for three consecutive three minute rounds by using the belly as the main means of attack. Breasts are okay to use as well, but hands are taken out of play by being bound behind the competitors back. Points are deducted for kicking or using knees to jab at one’s opponent.

Forcing the opponent out of the playing circle is worth a point, knockdowns are scored like they are in boxing, with a ten second count to get back up and present oneself as capable to continue. Of course without the use of hands it becomes all that much more difficult to get up, especially as heavy as some of the competitors are.

The buzzing crowd quiets down as the first of four opening round match-ups is displayed on the large screens surrounding the playing field.

“Pin-up” Posy Muriel
Vs
Sally “the Steam Roller” Gomez

Defending champion Sally has been training hard all year to make sure she can make a good run at keeping her title. A diet high in fats and carbs to keep that belly big and a workout routine of deep squats to keep those legs powerful has certainly helped.

At a statuesque 5’9” and a very imposing 380 pounds with a waist rumored to be around 70” it is clear as Sally the Steam Roller lumbers out into the playing circle that it will take quite a lot to bring her down.

“Pin-up” Posy got her nickname based on her looks; ample curves, bedroom eyes, rosy full lips make Posy look like she just stepped off a calendar from the 50’s. A lot of those curves go toward making up her impressive paunch. Big enough to dwarf her large chest, which is no small feat, Posy’s belly clearly has some flabby weight behind it. Is it enough though? At a diminutive 5’-2” and weighing just barely over 200 pounds the cute competitor has her work cut out for her. At almost half the size little Posy may be more mobile then the hulking Sally, but if she gets caught in the wrong place at the wrong time this match could end quickly.

In the ring wearing black shorts, matching sports bra and the standard nylon wrist binds that keep her hands behind her back Sally’s exposed belly is easily the first thing anyone would notice on her. It runs from just under her modest but slightly sagging chest to just below her dimpled knees and sticks out at least two feet in front of her.

The rest of Sally the Steam Roller is by no means small. Her face is a mass of cheeks and chins, her calves resemble sturdy tree trunks and her upper arms disappear around her bulbous torso looking like stretched bread dough.

Posy’s belly only seems small when compared to Sally’s. Hanging a little less heavy the bottom of Pin-up’s drooping paunch ends mid-thigh and wraps around the milky skinned competitor in a thick roll.

Posy’s cantaloupe-sized rack is accentuated by her billowing arms being forced behind her back.

Steam Roller glares at her competition while Posy is content to look out at her adoring fans, many of whom are wearing the heavy eyeliner and have the same jet black hair Posy sports.

The ref eventually directs each competitor across from each other on the edge of the circle and then takes his place in the center. After he makes eye contact with each lady and reminds them any use of feet or knees is worth a warning the first time and a penalty after, he signals for the bell to sound.

Sally charges forward as fast as her thighs slapping into her belly apron will allow. The ref steps back to avoid the oncoming mass and Posy scurries her stubby little legs easily out of the way, although her oversized chest threatens to bounce right out of her white sports bra as she does.

Sally puts the breaks on long before she has to worry about stepping outside the circle, but before she can turn around the fired up Posy slams her prominent tummy into the side of Sally’s jutting hip with a resounding slap. The force staggers Steam Roller back a step, still a few feet from being out of the circle. Posy continues the attack jumping up and landing her belly flesh right into the center of Sally’s girth. The wet pop of the belly on belly contact is followed by a loud grunt from Sally. Pin-up’s tits even offer a follow-up shot as the momentum causes them to bounce off the champion’s abdomen.

The effort needed to connect with the big blow on the larger woman causes Posy to almost lose her balance as she lands from her assault, but she does manage to keep her top heavy figure upright.

Sally’s stays upright as well, but not before staggering backward enough to put a heel just outside the painted white playing circle.

The bell sounds and the ref steps in between the two ladies.

Sally’s face instantly becomes enraged when she realizes what just happened. The crowd offers up a shocked response of their own in the form of gasps and cheers.

The ref sets the competitors back into the starting position. Posy’s eyes are wide with shock, but her full red lips are turned into a beaming grin.

She loses that smile quickly once the bell sounds because Sally takes the same course of action, bolting across the ring with every ounce of her sweaty flesh jiggling. Once again Posy gets out of the way in time, but instead of simply pulling up to a stop Sally turns on a dime without losing much momentum.

Posy is completely caught off guard and remains right in the path of the charging, near 400 pounder. Quickly she find out why they call Sally Steam Roller.

The smaller woman is at first engulfed in the large blob of belly flesh and then launched into the air. Her Nikes lifting right off the ground. She sails backwards a good four feet before landing flat on her back, slamming her hands beneath her own 200 pound bulk. The force of the thud causes her chest to explode out the top of her sports bra and her flopping boobs slap her on either cheek as an insult to the injury.

By the time Posy’s shoes plop back to the ground on the back of their heels rather then their soles, she is out. Her big blue eyes stare blankly up at the sky as the ref gives a count just to make it official. In fact he is waving in the lady’s trainer in by the time he gets to seven and she hasn’t done more then twitch slightly.

There is no celebrating on Sally’s side. A simple look of absolute detest focused right at her downed opponent is all that is offered up by Steam Roller before her staff comes into to untie her hands, douse her face with water and give her belly a congratulatory slap while leading her off.

The crowd mostly cheers for the exciting, if slightly shorter then normal match. They die down after the winner lumbers out of view to prepare for the second round of the tournament only to erupt once again when the medical staff revives the sprawled and semi-topless Posy with a healthy dose of smelling salt.

Once finally vertical again Posy staggers out of the way as quickly as she can to make way for the next match in the opening round of the tournament.

Continued in post#3

[FooMan]

next event please? sounds like a good start.
Foo

[elroycohen]

When the large screens surrounding the playing circle and spectators flashes with the second opening round match-up the crowd reverberates with gasps and awes. The ladies set to bash bellies in the next match are very evenly matched thus insuring a very intriguing bout.

Zoey Gertner
Vs
The Milk Matron Molly Veltram

The basics about Zoey arefairly simple. She is a web model who offers a site where people can pay to watch her empty cans of whip cream into her mouth and then squeeze into tiny clothes once a month. The BFLO is a good way for her to get exposure.

Zoey’s full story was much more involved.

Zoey started out as a plus sized model. Although she did well for herself she gradually got heavier. As she did she carried a disproportionate amount of her excess baggage in her chest. Eventually she was far too busty to represent the average plus sized woman and started to have trouble finding work modeling blouses and slacks.

With a cup measurement of JJ she easily found work in the adult entertainment industry. Many a porn producer paid top dollar to have Zoey’s juggs bounce up down on a muscular stud.

Zoey was not done packing on the pounds, however so as her waist expanded she again outgrew her viability in the big bust niche of adult entertainment. Luckily she met a man who saw her potential in her as a BBW. He helped her set up her own site and soon the burgeoning Zoey was a hit with a market that appreciated a heavier set woman. She much preferred eating and waddling in front of the camera to lying on her back with her legs spread and it showed on screen. Fans flocked to her site and watched as she grew from a 180 pound chubster into a massively top heavy 280 pounder.

She gets a chorus of cheers as she shuffles out into the playing circle in a sports bra with the image of the Texas state flag stretched across her unbelievably large rack.

Although similar in size and shape to Zoey her competition in the Belly Battle is a polar opposite in every other regard. With mousey brown hair instead of the gaudy bleach blond do, Molly comes out not playing to the crowd as much as the extroverted Zoey, but still getting a sizable amount of cheers.

Molly is very wholesome type, spending her days at her job as an interior designer and with her family when not training for the BFLO. As a new mother Molly has found motherhood to be quite a lot of work and after giving birth to twins within the last year has dropped from a cumbersome 330 pounds to a little more manageable 290. Although a little saggier Molly has retained her overall shape that has always been top heavy. Her cup size has dropped a little from the jaw dropping MM cup that was the reason she earned her nickname just before giving birth, but her belly has remained massive. Hanging down to her knees the large flap of hanging flesh is wide but flat. It seems to undulate even as the competitor stops at the edge of the playing circle and awaits direction from the ref.

Molly’s reason for competing in the BFLO is not for attention as is Zoey’s. Molly is an intensely competitive person who needs the BFLO as an outlet for that drive. She has always strived for championship gold, but with her family life and career she has been limited in her training, thus making her a perennial second or third place finisher in the events she has competed in all her many years of being involved in the BFLO.

The official barks the final warning about the use of knees or kicks and then signals for the bell.

The competitors stalk directly to the center of the circle and stand eye to eye. They squish their bellies and breasts up against the others as they do until they resemble almost a singular blob of pale flesh.

Once the stare down ends in an apparent draw the two begin leaning into one another and then slowly pumping their legs to try and push the other backward. The slightly heavier Molly eventually gets the better of the exchange, forcing Zoey a few steps backward. Then Molly really leans in and creates a small separation between the impressive guts. She uses that space to rock backward and then lunge forward pounding the backpedaling Zoey with an avalanche of fat.

Zoey staggers backward, nearly loosing her balance. She regains her footing, but not before stepping both feet outside the playing circle. The bell sounds and the ref points to Molly for the point. Molly mouths the word yes and smiles, while Zoe stomps on the ground in anger.

The Belly Battlers are restarted and they again hurriedly press bellies together in the center of the ring. Zoey seems more intense, but no more successful, slowly losing ground to the ponderous family woman.

Zoey tries to lean forward to make her center of gravity lower, but that only succeeds in burying her face into the vast array of Molly’s cleavage as she struggles to push back. She loses a few more steps. As Zoey tries to straighten back up she gets nearly run over by the steadily forward moving Molly and topples right onto her soft backside with a thump.

The official steps in to separate the two and begin the count. It takes Zoey to the count of 5 to shake off the cobwebs and roll over to her knees, but by eight she is up on her feet and nodding to the ref she is okay to continue.

The bell rings to signal the end of the round before another confrontation can occur and both sides see a flurry of activity as the trainers bring out chairs and water. Thirty seconds of pep talks ensue before the bell sounds again and the competitors are ushered back to their places.

Molly shows little signs of fatigue while Zoey, who had to put up a great deal of effort to endure the onslaught form round one, appears winded.

Round 2 starts just like round 1 except that it takes less time for Molly to belly bump the tiring Zoey backwards toward the edge of the circle.

Zoey tries her best to thrust her hips and slam her belly back into Molly’s, but the wider apron of the mother seems to disperse the effort and barely phases Molly.

With little space left before Zoey again would give up a point for leaving the circle the web model tries one last tactic. She times Molly’s relentless belly swings and bends at the knees when her opponent rocks back for what would surely be the blow that would send Zoey out of the circle. But when Molly’s stretched sallow flesh swings forward Zoey springs up and twists delivering what looks like a mighty belly uppercut with her own doughy rolls.

The hit lands with authority just under Molly’s spandex encased left tit. The impact causes her tennis shoes to slip out from under her just enough to bring her to her knees. The force of nearly 300 pounds coming down hard on her knees makes Molly wince in pain and collapse onto her side.

The official steps in and pushes Zoey back to her corner before starting the count. Molly slowly tests her sore knees. With a loud grunt she pushes past whatever pain there is and gets up unsteadily on her feet.

The loud clanging of the bell is a welcome sound to the stunned Molly and after hearing it she immediately retreats toward her staff. After seeming like she would win the second matchround in a row she loses it with the single knockdown and must try and regroup.

After the short break both Belly Batters look a little worse for wear as they face off. But it is clear by their expressions they realize the third and final round will be the deciding factor in who wins and moves on to face the Steam Roller.

Instead of colliding in the center of the circle this time Molly steps back and yells out, “Come on then. Give me your best shot!” Her eyes narrow into angry slits. The constant rippling of flesh has caused her bust to creep upward through the neckline of her bra creating a deep ridge in her rack that gives her the look of having 4 breasts.

Zoey doesn’t need a lot of time to think over Molly’s challenge. She lowers her mass and starts off across the circle, sweat dripping down her reddened belly as she slowly increases speed. When she reaches Molly she is at a full out run, for her, and the loud wet pop of the two moist mounds of fat colliding is enough to make the crowd gasp.

Molly’s rolls reverberate all the way up her quivering chest to her vibrating chins. She teeters backward two unsteady steps and then regains her balance a good foot before the edge of the circle.

Molly’s expression changes from one of worry and concentration to a confident grin as she realizes she has withstood the best her opponent has to offer.

Zoey is stunned. The crowd is chanting for her to offer up the same target for Molly’s charge and in the heat of the moment Zoey caves and sets a wide stance while nodding at the still grinning Molly.

Molly lurches forward with surprising speed, her hanging apron slapping against her chubby thighs as she goes.

Zoey braces herself for the impending impact, but it never comes. Molly skids her tennis shoes to a halt just short of her opponent. This causes Zoey to stumble forward when the big hit she was expecting doesn’t arrive.

Molly then takes the time to wind up by twisting her hips. She uncoils rapidly, sending her belly through the air like a lumpy wrecking ball towards Zoey’s backside.

The impact knocks Zoey even more off kilter then she was. Now she stumbles in circles, helpless as Molly sets up and unleashes another crushing belly blow, this time right above her left love handle.

Zoey seems certain to teeter out of play, but Molly displays more quickness and places herself right in Zoey’s path. She scrunches down as much as she is able and then springs upward just as Zoey is staggering within range. Molly’s belly flies up in an eruption of pasty lard and strikes the web model right underneath her prominent rack. The impact sends Zoey’s JJ cups up out of their snug sports bra and right into her face. The momentum combined with the loud slap puts Zoey flat on her back in an instant. Her breasts and belly spread out around her motionless form like she is a deflating pool toy.

The ref easily gets to ten before Zoey even begins to move.

The crowd directs its whistles and cheers at the panting Molly. Her trainers rush in to help untie her hands and help stuff her assts back down into the sports bra.

Zoey’s trainer as well tries to help corral her escaped jugs back into their confinement after coaxing the athlete into a sitting position and handing her a glass of water.

While Zoey is helped back into the conscious world the large screens display the upcoming championship match of champion Sally the Steam Roller Gomez Vs The Milk Matron Molly Veltram. Eager fans hurry out to the concessions to get their beer and fried macaroni and cheese on a stick before the match starts.

Continued in post #6

[mossycade2001]

This is the greatest story I have ever read! I have often thought of a belly bucking competition... Good show man!

[elroycohen]

So nice to hear such positive comments:) Thank you very much.



ec

[elroycohen]

To look at just the expression of the competitors in the Big Belly Battle championship match one would think it pretty even: the icy determination on the pudgy face of veteran belly battler Molly gazing across the circle at the glib overconfident smirk between the fat cheeks of champion Sally seems to ensure a well fought match.

When one looks at the big picture the match would seem a little less even. Molly gives away nearly 100 pounds and a few inches to her more then oversized competitor.

Molly’s previous three round battle has left her physically drained and it shows. Her shoulders slouch more then usual and her hair hangs in frizzy curls around her sweaty face.

Sally shows little fatigue, standing with the many rolls and lumps of her belly that weighs more then some women thrust out proudly in front of her.

Sally’s smile fades slightly as the ref signals for the bell and she takes off across the circle with her opponent in her sights.

Molly takes the same tact, picking up speed as she closes the gap between her the charging champion.

The collision of giant bellies stops both ladies in their tracks. While Sally simply comes to halt as her massive gut quakes, Molly backpedals a good four steps.

There is a glimpse of surprise on the champion’s face as Molly remains upright and generally unfazed by the collision. It quickly vanishes as she starts up toward her target for a second charge.

Molly recovers and again lunges to meet Sally halfway. And again bellies shake and Molly staggers backward.

When Molly again regains herself she sidesteps to cut down the angle and keep her position safely away from the circles edge. This forces Sally to reposition before starting another charging attack. The result this time is a little different. At the last second before colliding with Sally’s mountain of a belly Molly steps to the side. Not enough to avoid impact, but enough to disrupt the heavier battler to the point she staggers a step to her left after the loud slap of skin.

Molly repeats the pattern; circling her opponent a bit before charging again. With Sally recovering from the previous hit just before being impacted again the result was more in favor Molly.

Molly kept up her strategy, and it was clear that she was trying to work against the endurance of her larger competitor. It seemed to be working. Near the end of the round Molly had enough time after charging belly bumps to stand in front of the teetering Sally and thrust her hips, sending her belly out at her opponent in the equivalent of a straight jab.

When the bell rang to end the first round both ladies had a deep pink glaze over the majority of their shiny paunches.

Sally was spent. The bottom of her lumpy belly-apron nearly dragged on the ground as she waddled over to her chair in an exhausted slouch.

Molly was far from spry, gasping as she blinked rapidly to keep the streaming sweat out of her eyes.

When it was time for the overweight belly battlers to begin round 2 Sally started with a charge that seemed almost half speed. Molly easily absorbed the blow and had time to get a few shots in while Sally tried to catch her breath.

The shots were not just straight jabs anymore, but twisting belly uppercuts and even a 360 spin that ended with a near horizontal blast of Molly’s flabby stomach striking the small of Sally’s well padded back just below where her hands were tied.

By the middle of the second round Sally had been peppered with more then a dozen well placed belly blows and had managed only a few of her own. Molly was picking her spots, concentrating on the overworked lower back area that carried the majority of the bulk from Sally’s forefront.

With over a minute left in the round the fading Sally was flailing her rolls left and right desperately trying to connect with the quicker fighter. The sound of her own belly slapping back down against her thighs with every miss reverberated throughout the stunned silent field.

Every Sally miss was followed by a Molly combination of straight belly jab and twisting belly cross or jumping belly uppercut and spinning belly slap.

Molly was a blur of activity around the staggering and confused Sally. It seemed inevitable that the enormous powerhouse would go down; she was hunched over at almost a 45 degree angle leaving her upper body open to whatever Molly chose to throw at her.

Then the bell rang.

Sally plopped down to her knees right where she stood. Her staff ran out and tried to revive her with water and a pep talk. Two rounds had gone unquestionably in Molly’s favor, meaning Sally’s crew needed to motivate her to go for a knockout or she would lose the title by decision.

Sally did manage to pull herself upright for the start of round three. That’s when something became very evident; Molly was almost as tired as Sally.

The adrenaline of taking the champ to the edge had clearly dissipated during the break. As a result Molly was no longer bouncing around ready to send more belly barrages Sally’s way. She stood flat footed with her heavy chest pulling her shoulders into a less then intimidating slouch as she contemplated her next move.

Both competitors stood motionless across from each other for a good half minute before the ref barked out an order for them to engage.

Molly tried to resume her flurry of attacks, but she was obviously slower with much less power behind her blows. That allowed Sally to shrug them off and interrupt the assault with a few swings of her own. As exhausted as she was Sally had belly battled enough to know what angles worked best to get the bulk of her weight behind the blows with the least amount of effort.

The shots sent ripples throughout Molly’s soft body. She stayed with it however, even when blasted back by a well placed hooking roll to the boob, and kept coming back to trade shots.

The crowd was incensed they were witnessing an epic slugfest between two greats right before their eyes.

With Sally’s sore lower back her shots were not as damaging as they could be. With Molly running on pure fumes after her explosion of energy in the second round her shots had substantially less of an effect then they had three minutes prior.

It seemed to be anyone’s match. Both ladies looked ready to drop and any moment but at the same time determined not to.

Molly had lost a considerable amount of quickness. She was unable to dodge the blows from Sally as she had done and the continued blows from the heavier belly eroded her endurance. Two minutes into the match she was returning far fewer blows then she was taking, until she was simply enduring belly slap after belly slap. Sally worked her opponents gut, her chest and with her very abundant and pliable sack of flesh was even able to get a few shots up under the chins of her fading opponent.

Sally had been in enough belly fights to know when her opponent was about to drop. Just as that was about to happen she stopped her onslaught, stared Molly in her glazed over eyes until she was certain she could see defeat and then charged. Instead of simply running over the target she pushed Molly back with her massive mound, slowly picking up speed until Molly was not so much backpedaling as she was being carried by the colossal forefront.

When Sally got to the edge of the circle she stopped. Molly did not stop, however. The momentum carried the near 300 pounder through the air until she landed with a resounding thud at the feet of the spectators in the first row. Molly’s head rose up almost immediately, looking as if she might be getting up, but then her eyes rolled back up into her head and she slumped back to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

The ref waved his arms above his head signaling that he was not even going to count. Molly was clearly out and unable to continue.

Sally was untied and her hand raised skyward in victory as it had been the year prior.

The head of the BFLO governing committee came out to present Sally with the Big Belly Battle trophy; a gold, impressively sized round belly atop a wood stand emblazoned with a plaque etched with the champion’s name in big letters.

Sally raised the large trophy above her head, thrusting her bright red, slightly battered belly out as far as it would go.

Big bellied ladies in the stands watched the champ and silently wondered if it was even possible to dethrone the dominating monolithic gut, while off at a swanky restaurant a few miles away a team of chefs were notified to begin preparations of a celebratory meal consisting of ham, roast beef, prime rib, mashed potatoes and enough desserts to hopefully fill Sally’s trophy winning belly.