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#1 |
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You'll love me, I swear.
Join Date: Sep 2005
Location: Fatlanta, GA
Posts: 520
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~BHM, Extreme Eating, Flatulence, Explicit ~Sex - Fattened boy meets old acquaintance
[Author's Note: I am very bored, and very turned-on, and there's no one to talk to about it. So what did I do? I imagined my life if I weighed 500 pounds. This is what it might look like. The name's have been changed to protect the innocent. Everything else is essentially based heavily (pun intended) on reality. Enjoy.] A Day in the Life of Aaron Johns By Iam Unknown I feel the wind pass between the cheeks of my butt, vibrating my rear and causing a trumpeting sound. When it finishes, I take a deep breath and fan my nose from the bad smell. Now awake, I give a moan. I was still very, tired. I push my elbows into my bed to prop up my large upper half. I turn my head, feeling the fat bunch up at my neck and shoulders. My alarm clock reads 2:27 PM. I rip my elbows away, letting my fattened form fall back to my bed. The mattress compresses and bounces, causing the springs to squawk mockingly at me. With a reluctant grunt, my bed gives way, the four posts falling and pointing in opposite directions. The room trembles, and the lamp rattles on the nightstand. Dust is propelled out from beneath my mattress, giving the room and murky, gray haze. I cough a few times and brush the dust from my face with chubby fingers. I swing my legs around and place them on the carpet. I press my feet into the floor, tightening my muscles and pushing with all my strength. My hands push against my back, simultaneously, and after some exertion, I am on my feet. I sway slightly, trying to gain my bearings. Once I get still, I grab my pajama pants and pull them up my legs. I stretch the elastic band and pull it up, over my belly button. I waddle over to my closet and pull out an old, cotton, Spider-Man t-shirt. I pull it over my fat boobs and flabby arms. The sleeves are a little tight, but then, it’s a little snug all over. I turn to leave the room, trying to get out of the snug corner, trapped between the closet and a chair. My enormous ass brushes the chair, causing it to swivel on its stand. My stomach brushes against the folded, aluminum, closet door, knocking off the clothes hanging on the handle. I don’t bother to pick them up, as bending over has become quite the chore, and I’ve just become too lazy to bother. I waddle around the mess of my room, and sidle out my bedroom door. I stop at the intersection of the hall and peer into the computer room. The Matrix Code screen saver cascades over my monitor. I turn my head and look down the hall to my parent’s room. The door is lightly pulled to the lock, so I waddle over and lightly push it open. I peak my head in and see the beds empty. I give a satisfied nod, and turn to leave, my fat belly brushing against the frame. I don’t even notice anymore. I turn left at the hallway conjunction towards my favorite room in the house: the kitchen. The first thing I notice is a bag of Bojangle’s chicken biscuits. The white paper is stained with grease splotches, making the bag a little transparent in certain spots. I uncrumple the bag’s opening and look down at its contents with a smile. Five chicken biscuits. I smile, excitedly and crumple the bag’s opening, again and take it further into the kitchen. I pass the note sitting on the counter, next to where the bag was. It reads: -Hey, buddy. Enjoy -Dad Stepping heavily towards the microwave, I have to maneuver around the kitchen table and its chairs. My ass slides against some papers, knocking them to the floor. They spread like a peacock’s feathers upon landing on the linoleum. I ignore these, too. I’m far too lazy. I push into the largest button of the microwave and drop my bag of food into it. I close the door shut and hit 4-5 and press start. The light shines, and the appliance hums, as the contents inside turn on the glass plate. I twiddle my fingers in excitement and slide back over the chairs, and to the pantry. I pull open the aluminum door and survey the treats. Little Debbie’s are everywhere. Brownies, Swiss Cake Rolls, Oatmeal Pies, and Cupcakes! I grab a packet of Swiss Cake Rolls and hold it to my stomach, as my sausage-like fingers struggle with the plastic wrap. It rips open, and I greedily pull out one of the rolls and put the first half into my mouth and bite. With the treat still to my mouth, I open up and welcome the 2nd half of the first Swiss Cake Roll. I chew, my flabby cheeks puffing out more than they already do. I chew and reach for the next one as the microwave bell dings. My eyes light up and I shove the second Swiss Cake Roll into my mouth, chewing hungrily. I drop the wrapper, and it drifts into the garbage can as I reach around and pop open the microwave again. I pull out the bag and slam the microwave door shut by bumping my belly into it. I waddle over to the couch in the living room, and sit on it. With my gargantuan physique, I turn the sofa into a chair, and plop the greasy bag onto the table. My hands tremble with excitement as I unravel the opening of the bag and pull out my first biscuit. I tear off its wrapper and sink my teeth into it. The surface of the biscuit crumbles as my teeth crash into it. My incisors meet a juicy, hot chicken breast, and slide through it before catching up to my bottom jaw just past the under half of biscuit. It’s orgasmic. I slowly rub my hands over my stomach and moan in ecstasy. I shove whatever’s left of the biscuit and chew, moaning through my overstuffed mouth. One down, four to go. I awaken from my pleasured state of bliss, and quickly struggle for the next biscuit. I bite into it, and am immediately biting into it again, chewing one bite with each successive bite. It is quickly gone into my belly. I lay on hand on it, using the other to gather my food. I can’t get enough! And I can’t get it quick enough! I feel a building pressure in my stomach. I can feel my muscles contracting, pushing the gas to the rear. I feel it travel to the bottom of my spine, and I give a slight push. I pause chewing, and with a mouthful of food hanging slightly ajar, I fart sensuously. It pours from me, sliding into the living room to join me. The stench wraps itself around me, graciously, and I can’t escape it. I don’t even try. I’m too engorged in my food to worry about the smell. My primitive, hungry mind sees it as opportuniy. It’ll keep the scavengers away, I reason with myself. Soon, the bag is empty, and I’m leaning back into the couch, rubbing my stomach. My shirt is pulled up to just below my man-breasts, which have folded over the top of my stomach. I rub my flabby, flabby gut, thinking about how glad I am that no one is here to see me in this state. I am pure gluttony personified, and any spectators would be quite embarrassing. Especially since I’m still hungry. I don’t want to get up, and I suddenly find myself wishing my girlfriend was here to bring me food. I exert myself and lean to the right. I blast another epic fart from between my cheeks, and fall back into place. I give a sheepish smile and fan my nose of the smell. The entire house is mine for the afternoon. I have marked it as my territory. Each room has been exposed to my gasses, and it saturates the walls. Anyone here would know: this is the house of a fat man. Suddenly, the phone rings. I give a disappointed grunt and rock my body forward. I fall back, and try again. Eventually, I get the momentum needed to get my gigantic, fat ass to my feet. I waddle back into the kitchen, my sides brushing the door’s frame. I reach for the mounted phone with a chubby hand and pull the receiver from its base. I put the equipment to my ear and ask: “Hello?” “Hey, fatso,” my girlfriend replies. “What’s up, baby?” I ask, delighted to hear her voice. “We still hanging out tonight?” she asks. “Yeah, I think so. Do you want me to come get you?” “No, it’s cool. Isabel’s going to bring me. Is that cool if she hangs with us tonight?” Tonight?! Of course, not. I haven’t seen Isabel since high school! Back then, I was thin. I was tiny. That was before you fattened me up into the junk-food addicted fat boy I am. I don’t want her to see me this way! I sniffed the air. Yep, it smelled bad. It smelled like me. I farted again, and reached back, fanning my huge rear. “Uh, sure,” I say, stupidly. Oh, this will be interesting. Story continued in post 4 of this thread
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"Anger and intolerance are the enemies of correct understanding. " Last edited by Risible : 07-14-2007 at 09:01 AM. |
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#2 |
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Junior Member
Join Date: Jan 2006
Location: Europe, Slovakia
Posts: 6
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I like this story sooo very much! Please continue. I would like to read, how his girlfriend and Isabel feed him and then play with his wonderful body as he lies there totaly stufed. I would like to see him gain weight :o)
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#3 |
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Senior Member
Join Date: Oct 2005
Location: Atlanta, GA
Posts: 287
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great start! definitely continue. i'd like to see a three-some, where after the 2 girls have stuffed him, they take advantage of his helpless state and play with his engorged body.
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#4 |
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You'll love me, I swear.
Join Date: Sep 2005
Location: Fatlanta, GA
Posts: 520
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After hanging up the phone, I begin working on cleaning up. I try to run, every step sending a slight tremor through the house. I gather up all the wrapper paper and shove them in the white bag. I waddle hurriedly to the garbage and shove the trash in. I pick up the pace and waddle through the kitchen and into the hall. I then pause, waddle back into the kitchen, scoop up some cookies from the cookie jar, and munch away as I bound on down the hall.
I make a right at the intersection, and move into the bathroom. I spot the air freshener sitting on the floor, between the toilet and the cabinet. I begin to bend over, but I’m too fat for this. I decide to bend at the knees, and squat the best I can. I twiddle my fat, stubby digits, reaching for the can. My middle finger taps it, nearly knocking it over. I lunge forth, slightly, wrapping my fat, little hand around it. I pull it out, and begin my struggle to stand up straight, again. I let my legs out from under me, and spread them in a 90* angle. I prop my fat self on my arms, leaning back. I breathe heavily, trying to catch my breath. I lean to one side, and allow my ass some room to let out a fart. I give a sigh and toss my hand upward, grabbing the sink counter. I tightened my muscles and pulled the best I could. I pulled myself up, and was finally vertical again. With the air freshener can in hand, I moved out into the hall and began spraying. I waved the can around, spraying all over the house. Ridding all rooms of my smell. Hiding my presence. I stand in the living room after I’ve sprayed everywhere. I take in a deep breath through my nose and let it out of my mouth with a refreshing sigh. Suddenly, another fart creeps up on me and I spray it into oblivion as quickly as I can. I hear muffled voices a moment before the doorbell rings. I twist my torso slightly and look at the door. I can hear my girlfriend laughing with her friend, Isabel and suddenly, I’m off down the hall. “Just a minute!” I call to the door. I waddle to the bathroom as quickly as my flabby legs will allow. My fat quivers all over, sending waves with every footfall. I can almost hear the sloshing. I drop the air freshener back where it was and move back into my bedroom. I spot my large, beige sweater hanging on my chair and I sweep it upward and toss it over my head. I pull it down, and it hugs my rotund form, almost accentuating my curves. I go back down the hall, away from the rooms and toward the front door. As I walk away from the mirror that stands at the end of the hall, I look back over my shoulder and check my ass. It sticks out far enough to where my sweater (that used to fall and cover my rear) is bunched up and collected on the shelf of my behind. I stop for a moment and place one hand on it. I open my hand as wide as I can, spreading out my fingers, and I run my palm around one of my enormous cheeks, seeing it as its own independent nation. I give a sigh and almost remember how thin I used to be. It wasn’t until I met my girlfriend that I grew to the size of a rhino. The doorbell ringing constantly pulled me back into reality. I snapped to consciousness and waddled to the door, my ass shifting with each ponderous step. I wrap my hand around the doorknob, turn, and pull the door open. Light pours into the foyer, and for a moment as my eyes adjust my girlfriend Maya and her friend Isabel are silhouettes. My eyes focus, and I see them. Maya smiles and steps forward. She steps forward and raises herself on the tips of her toes. She gives me a peck on my fat cheek and moves past me to drop her bags. Her friend Isabel is desperately trying to hide her astonishment at my size. “Hey, Aaron. It’s…good to see you again,” she says, pausing. “Hey, come on in,” I reply, a little embarrassed. She walks past me and I close the door. I tug at the bottom of my sweater, hoping it will make me smaller, somehow, or cover up my huge body. It does neither. I waddle into the living room, joining the other two. My arms are hanging at my sides, pressed against my curves, almost outlining them. I get to the recliner and fall back into it. My hips and waist brush the arms of the recliner, and the force of my weight causes it to rock back and forth. Isabel sits on the couch to my right, and Maya plops herself down on the sofa where I had been sitting earlier, to my more immediate right. She picks up the remote and aims it at the television. She pushes a button, and with a click and a hum, the TV comes to life, delivering an episode of “Yes, Dear” on TBS. “How was school?” I asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence. “It was fine,” Maya answers, keeping her eyes glued to the television. Oh no, I think to myself. I have to fart…again! What can I do? Wait, I can go to my room! “I’ll be right back,” I try to say nonchalantly. I struggle to get up, rocking myself forward and trying to gather up all the momentum I can. I finally rise to my feet and waddle off down the hall, to my room. I sidle in sideways, and stand in the middle of the room. I close my eyes tight and give a slight grunt as I push. Nothing happens. I stop for a moment, gather myself, and try again. The fart pours forth, squeezing from the pillows of my ass and out into the world. It doesn’t smell the least bit pleasant. I fan my nose, and turn to leave the room. Maya and Isabel are standing in the doorway. “What’s up?” I ask, blushing. With a smirk, Maya rushes me, and pushes her hands deep into my soft, thick stomach. I fall back on the mattress, still on the floor, and try to get up. She holds me down and laughs. Then, she starts to mock me. She fans her nose and smiles. “Wow, Honey. You smell!” “Maya, stop!” I insist, feeling humiliated. She continues to laugh and turns her head. “Isabel, go get my bag.” I assume Isabel follows suit, because Maya turns back to me and smiles big. “We got a surprise for you!” she says. “Do you have to talk to me like that in front of her? It’s really embarrassing!” I plead to Maya. “Oh, don’t worry about her. She has a thing for fat, as well.” My heart begins to race. “Really?” I ask. “Well, not in a sexual way like us. She just thinks fat things are cute and pathetic.” My heart stops racing, and sinks. “So what’s the surprise?” At that moment, Isabel enters with Maya’s bag. She hands it to Maya, who drops it onto the bed next to us. I turn my head to look at it as best I can. She unzips it and pulls out a heart-shaped box. It looks like a Valentine’s Day box of chocolates. She drops it on top of her bag and pops off the lid. Isabel is now standing over Maya’s shoulder, both of them looking down at me. Maya picks out one of the chocolates and holds it to my lips. “Open up, little piggy,” she teases. I shake my head, still uneasy about the whole situation. “Come on, Aaron. You know you want to,” Isabel says to my surprise. I close my eyes and open my mouth. Maya shoves the chocolate into my mouth quickly, as if she were afraid I was going to change my mind. I bite into its chocolaty shell and my teeth slide into gooey sweetness. It tastes of caramel and fudge and everything sinful. Suddenly, a hunger flows through me. I feel as though I haven’t eaten in days! I need food! “Okay, stand back,” Maya tells Isabel, as she slides off of me. Stand back? They both take a few steps back, keeping their gazes on me. “What’s going on?” I ask, a little scared. “Maya, you’re freaking me out!” My stomach gurgles and sloshes. Suddenly, I feel as though there’s an orgasm in my belly. I slide my hands all over it, pulling up my sweater and the shirt underneath. My fat stomach exposed, it begins to tingle. Then, I feel it swell. “Baby?” I ask Maya. “What’s happening to me?” I struggle to stand up, and actually get on my feet. But Maya moves forward, and pushes me back down into a sitting position on the mattress. “Oh,” I moan in pure ecstasy. I put my hands under my man-boobs and grab them. They’re filling out as well, getting heavier in my thickening hands. I leave one hand holding my boob, and the other moves to my ass. I feel it spread beneath me, seeming to almost become the largest part of my body. Suddenly, the growth stops, and I’ve gained a good 30 pounds. I suddenly feel heavier again, as the “orgasm in my belly” subsides. “What was that?” I asked. I’m still feeling humiliated that this is happening in front of Isabel. Especially since the way I just acted. “That was what we picked up from the new magic shop over on Steve Reynolds Boulevard. You’re going to finish that whole box by tonight, you know,” she answered matter-of-factly. It sounded more like an order than a suggestion. “But if I do that, I won’t be able to move!” I protest. “Exactly. Now, wait here. We’re going to go round you up something to eat.” And with that, Isabel and Maya venture down the hall. I lean forward and release the biggest fart of my life. So here I am: nearly 550 pounds, full of gas, and hungry as hell. By the end of the night, I’ll be completely immobile. I’m so starving. How did I let this happen? How did I get so big? I ponder this as I explore the folds of my body, both old and new. Oh well. At least they’ll be back with food. There goes one problem solved. Story continued in post 13 of this thread
__________________
"Anger and intolerance are the enemies of correct understanding. " Last edited by Risible : 07-14-2007 at 08:58 AM. |
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#5 |
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Member
Join Date: Oct 2005
Location: Argentina
Posts: 77
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there will be a part 3 ? really nice so far...
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#6 |
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Member
Join Date: Jun 2006
Posts: 138
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wow, i got to admit i like it
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#7 |
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Member
Join Date: Jan 2006
Posts: 50
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I always enjoy your stories Coyote. This one was especially good. I would have liked to see more of Aaron and his girlfriend interacting, her and Isabelle's teasing of him were some of the best parts of the story. If you were to continue this story, I'd love to see either how Maya got him so fat in the first place, or what's going to happen to Aaron as the night goes on.
Also, for your next story, I'd really like to see something almost exactly like this (especially the flatuence, struggling with weight, and teasing) but with a girl as the fattened main character instead. Or maybe write another one with a guy as the main feedee, and have the feeding backfire on the the girl feeder in the middle of the story, so she starts getting fat and gassy too? Either way, keep up the good work, this has been a great story and I'd love to see more! Edit: Also, I really would have liked/would like to see a physical description of Maya. It doesn't have to be too detailed, but I'd really like to be able to picture the kind of girl that would delight in making Aaron Immobile. Like, is she skinny or fat, chesty or flat, preppy or hip-hop, etc. |
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