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Old 03-04-2014, 01:13 AM   #76
Uncle Jack
 
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The six weeks were up. I was officially qualified to work for slightly above minimum wage, plus sales bonuses.

But the training period had been more than worth it. Not just because I got to meet Jocelyn. But because I got to watch Jocelyn become Mega-Jocelyn.

I was sitting at the back of the training room at the beginning of the final Friday, reading comics, doing my best to tune out the noise and ruckus of my illustrious peers. Everyone was thrilled to be done with training. It had been easy, even easier than they had thought, because of who had been in charge of things. I think the majority of them, despite the slacker's paradise training had been, were less than enamored with dealing with their trainer everyday. I had not done much to make friends in this training class. I've always been shy, even a bit standoffish, when it comes to new people, and I wasn't really impressed by any of the people I found myself stuck with. In addition to that, there was my particular relationship with the trainer, about which more momentarily.

In a slightly different setting, I might have decided to drown them out with the help of my earbuds. But I liked to keep my ears peeled for the sweet sounds of Jocelyn's arrival.

You felt it before you heard it. You remember the ripples in the water in Jurassic Park? I could see it in my coffee cup. But you could hear it soon enough. A heavy steady thud, coming down the hall. The floor vibrating. Even now, even with everyone used to it, the sound caused the room to gradually hush, something to do with instinctual awe in the presence of the large. Perhaps the continued silencing over the past couple weeks had to do with the incremental increase in the force of the thuds. Something they couldn't be conscious of; the gradual accretion of mass, so that the sound now was thicker and heavier than the sound a month ago.

Jocelyn entered the room, her hips coming closer than ever to grazing the doorway. She kept "meaning" to get new clothes, but her good intentions were usually drowned out by her desires to stuff her face, lie around letting her ass grow, and fucking her sweet secret boyfriend (moi). So most of her clothes didn't fit at all anymore. And those that did, did so in only the most technical use of the term. She was currently jam-packed into a pair of pink sweatpants that showed every roll, with tears around her hips that she was aware of, and tears in the butt that she wasn't aware of. I knew for a fact that the inner thighs were completely worn away by her thick-legged waddle. The waist on the pants didn't come up to her belly button, which was a shame as far as propriety goes, because her Harry Potter t-shirt ended about an inch and a half above her belly button. Her vast orb of a middle section wobbled heavily as she plumped her way to her workstation. The shirt was absurdly tight as well. This morning, I cut little triangles into the sleeves to allow her fat flabby arms to fit, as well as a triangle on each side of the bottom, in hopes of giving it more stretch. It sort of worked, but the shirt still wasn't appropriate attire. But she loved her Harry Potter, and she refused to give it up until she tore right through it. Watching her inhale the pancakes, bacon, and donuts that made up her breakfast, I didn't doubt it would be long.

I had asked her that morning if her outfit wasn't a bit too... showy for work, before I left myself. Her reply: "Eh, no one will notice." Delivered through a sticky mouthful of maple syrup and pancake. And this was the real maple syrup. My big girl insisted on it.

We spent most mornings together nowadays, as well as most nights. Why had we arrived separately? Because we were still (nominally) keeping our relationship clandestine, but also because I had gotten back into exercising. Being with Jocelyn had really perked up my spirits, and along with perked up spirits (and perked-up libido), came the resolve to get my body in top gear. I had started biking to work, as well as jogging in the evening and hitting the gym a couple times a week to pump iron. The results were minor on that final Friday of training. I hadn't been doing it long enough for a radical change, but my body was leaner and more toned. And being with a girl who never let me finish a meal without swiping the food off my plate certainly helped keep the pounds off. That girl had changed more noticeably than I had in the same time period. Though maybe I'm wrong; maybe to most people fat people are always just fat, if you're not paying attention, so that an additional pile of pounds goes unnoticed.

How many pounds? I had discovered this just the night before that last training day...

Jocelyn rolls off me, her naked body covered in sweat. Since we have started having sex, she has discovered that she likes it cowgirl, which is fine by me, because I love the feeling of being crushed under her weight, watching everything slap, jiggle and bounce.

She grabs a beer from the bedside table and slams it down. She lets out one of her cannonfire belches that are her typical post-coital response. The heavy breathing and the fact that she tends to fuck on a full stomach are the likeliest culprits.

"Boy oh boy, if I knew sex was so good, I woulda been giving it away on the corner long ago!"

"You know, for some people it's not that good. We're lucky."

"Oh, I keed, I keed, I am ohnaly keeding. I only wanna screw you, sexy boy."

"You are definitely the best lay I've ever had."

"And here I thought virgins were supposed to be bad at it. Turns out I'm a sexual BAA-ORRP dynamo."

I grab a roll of belly flab and squeeze.

"All this certainly helps."

"Wow, you're grabbing a lot there. I should probably weight myself. I don't know what I'm at right now."

"When was the last time you did?"

"Um... not sure. I kinda do it sporadically, since I don't diet or anything. It's not like I ever expect it to go away, so I never got caught up on it. Oh! It was the weekend before I started the training class! I remember because I had just taken a big nap, and woke up friggin' starving. But I wanted to weigh myself on an empty stomach."

"I'm kind of curious what you weigh now."

"Really? Why do you care?"

Jocelyn had come a long way since we had gotten together, but she is still so naive in so many ways regarding my chub-lust.

"Just curious, that's all," I say.

"Well, I weighed 320 when we met, if you must know. I've probably put on five pounds since then, maybe a little more. Happy weight."

320. Even after being with her, feeding her, getting to know her body and her voracious appetite, there is something mysterious about an exact number that gets my heart beating rapidly and my poor penis throbbing, begging for relief.

Next thing you know, she hauls her enormous ass out of bed and waddles into the bathroom. I watch her from the bed as she bends over with a grunt, her stomach rolls bunching up and her bubble butt sticking way out. She pulls a scale out from the sink and places it on the ground. She steps aboard.

"Can you check the scale for me? I'm having trouble seeing it."

Rushing over with the speed of Barry Allen, I craned beyond the dome of her fat gut to peer at the scale.

"What does it (urp-hic-urrrrp) say?"

I desperately fought around for saliva, to say the number.

"360."


Yes, that's right. An additional forty pounds. In just the month and a half since we had met. This surprised me, because that is a surprising amount of change for anyone in such a very short amount of time. On the other hand, it shouldn't have surprised me. Jocelyn ate literally CONSTANTLY. Compared to the first week I knew her, the Jocelyn now, the Mega-Jocelyn, was like a Dyson Vac. Efficiently sucking up all digestibles into her bottomless stomach.

Wonder of wonders, she wasn't currently eating as she reported to work for the day, but she was talking loudly on a cell phone.

"No Mom, I'm sure he'd love to come over! As long as you make more chicken this time, then we'll (BUUUURP) be there. Now I gotta go, I'm at work."

Joss's mom loved me. We had only met the one time, just a week ago, but she had been suitably impressed by how dutiful and sincere I was in regards to her daughter. For my part, I was impressed with how considerate she was towards Jocelyn's gluttonous lifestyle...
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Old 03-04-2014, 01:14 AM   #77
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http://dimensionsmagazine.com/forums...32#post2054332

It's been awhile, but here is a return to my old tale.
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Old 03-04-2014, 07:03 PM   #78
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Default Great Chapter

The only thing that had been missing for me from this story were the weight details. It helps me get a better mental picture of the growing heroine. Thanks
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Old 03-06-2014, 12:45 AM   #79
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"Honey, it's so great to see you! You look... happy."

This is from Jocelyn's mother, who I'm about to meet for the first time. I'm understandably nervous, and Jocelyn isn't helping. She insisted on a stop at Dairy Queen on the way over, for a little treat, and where she was the one driving, how could I say no? That's how she ended up getting two chocolate dipped cones (one vanilla soft serve, one chocolate soft serve) and having me drive because she "needed both hands".

My nerves are amped up as I watch Jocelyn hug her mother while carefully holding the remains of her double-fisted cones in each chubby paw, so as not to drop them or get any on her mom's shirt. Her mouth is comically surrounded by an ice-cream ring, like a kid in the summertime.

Her mother is a thin woman, in good shape for her age, which is what I was afraid of. Her face registers a brief flicker of recognition at the way her arms squish into her daughter's back fat mid-hug, but it's only a flicker. As if to say,
Oh goodness, she's bigger again, but what was I expecting?

Their hug breaks apart and Jocelyn introduces me. The mother and I are locking eyes. This is the moment I've been dreading. Look how fat my pig of a daughter is! Did you have anything to do with this? Did you encourage her to be this way? Do you actually LIKE HER THIS WAY?!?!?!

Don't look at me! She was obese when I found her, I swear!

But things are going differently. She's smiling, and shaking my hand, and saying,

"I'm so happy to meet you. Jocelyn's been telling me about you non-stop the last month. You make her very happy."

"Mooooom, stopit, you're (urp) embarassing me."

"Finish up your ice cream, dinner's just about ready. Theo's just finishing up everything out on the deck."

"Oh boy oh girl oh god," says my tubby beauty as she jog-waddles through the living room. She's wearing tights today, red ones, and her gargantuan ass jiggles like a silent red alert. She hipchecks a side table, sending a vase of flowers crashing to the ground. Next passing through the dining room, connected to the preceding room by a wide open missing wall, she makes the china and keepsakes in a fancy pine hutch jangle and shake with her heavy footfalls. She's wearing a white tank top with a black bra, and the top is riding up over her mighty love handles as she continues upon her purposeful path. She opens up the sliding door and calls out, "Hellooooooo Theooooooo! Guess who!" And she shakes out on to the deck, turning a corner and disappearing out of sight.

Jocelyn's mom walks over to the knocked over vase, which has shattered.

"Oh jeez, I just bought this vase. Oh well. David, would you come to the kitchen with me and help me put these in some new water?" She gathers the loose flowers and arranges them into some sense of order.

I follow her, and observe the sheer difference between mother's physique and daughter's physique. Where daughter is bottom heavy, mother has what you might call "lean hindquarters". Where daughter is jiggly, mother is svelte. Where daughter is dressed revealingly, mother is dressed tastefully, in form-fitting khaki capris. She wears a nice navy blue blouse on top, and has her hair done in a nice inoffensive shoulder-length bob. I am expecting the third degree in the kitchen. This mother, having that daughter? How could Jocelyn not have emerged from some family of eternal gluttons? How could Jocelyn have a... normal mom?

The kitchen is littered with dirtied pots, pans, dishes, cooking utensils, boxs, bags, and food-related accoutrements. Each of the four stovetop burners has something on the go, and it looks as if the oven is cooking as well.

"How many are you expecting?" I ask.

"Oh, just the four of us. You, me, Joss, and Theo. That's Joss's stepdad."

Well, it's certainly a Jocelyn-sized meal, no question there...


I was snapped out of my reverie by Jocelyn's customary request at the beginning of each training day. Sorry, did I say request? I meant command. Most definitely command.

"Alright everybody, it's the last day of training, but that does not mean I'm not super hungry, so bring me my breakfast!"

Everyone (myself included - must keep up appearances) dug out various bags and containers of food. Not much was required of each person; as long as everyone chipped in, there would be enough food for Queen Fatass, as a number of the trainees had dubbed my sweet baby doll. She sat in her chair (the arms had exploded off the sides two weeks past) at the front of the room as everyone lined up to present her with their tributes. This was how an easy ride had been guaranteed the past five weeks. Pay the fare, and you could spend your day however you wished, as long as you stayed in the room during designated "class time". Meanwhile, Jocelyn, in all her corpulent splendour, softly belching from the large breakfast I had already made for her at home, quietly digesting the sugary Starbucks concoction she had no doubt picked up and slugged back on her carefully untaxing car ride to work, patiently awaited that which was rightfully hers. Her belly button wobbled with a particularly fierce hiccup as the first offering was placed on the table to her side: leftover veggie samosas. Not typical breakfast food, but the Queen was not picky when it came to the subjects of her call centre kingdom. As long as the belly remained full, all was right with the world. She worked hard, and got everything she wanted, everything she deserved, everything she could ever desire: food. Food to feed a village.



to be cont'd...
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Old 03-06-2014, 04:03 PM   #80
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Jocelyn continued to eat in front of everyone. Noisily, grunting and chomping. A little bit messily, with a few bits peppering the front of her shirt. Quickly, and with determination.

I revert to my favorite at-work activity: staring at Joss, and daydreaming...

"I'm very happy you and Joss found each other. She's never had luck with the boys."

"I'm... very fond of her, Mrs. Conroy."

"I'm Mrs. Keener now. Conroy is Jocelyn's father. And please, call me Sue. Now don't sound so formal. Relax. I'm not gonna bite your head off. Though Joss might if we don't fix up supper in a hurry."

I chuckle, not sure how to respond to this.

"Y'know," continues Sue, "I can always tell when she's happy. She tends to - how can I say this? - get stockier. She must get it from her father's side of the family, lord knows it doesn't come from me."

She's put the flowers in a new vase, and carefully placed them on the counter, against the wall, far from the ledge where oblivious girls with dangerous hips can attack.

"Is she close with her father?"

"She sees him occasionally, but no, not close. Anyway, I'm sure you've noticed yourself that Jocelyn's put some flesh on. Don't try to deny it. I'm thrilled to see it."

"You are?"

"Yes. I wish she wasn't so prone to it. I tried everything with her growing up, tried to instill good eating habits and what not, but she was heavy as a kid, and she's heavier now. I'm not going to be the sort of mother whose daughter avoids her for fear of getting nagged. Can I get you something to drink?"

"A glass of water would be fine."

She opens the fridge door and pulls out a Brita filter. Inside, the fridge is stocked, bursting. A mother knows her daughter.

"I used to wish Jocelyn was different, but I don't anymore," she continues, "I just try to be the best I can be. And Theo helped me come to that realization. He's been great to me, and her."

She sighs. She has been facing away from me, looking out the window over the sink. I suspect she can see Jocelyn out there, but from where I'm standing, I can't. She turns to me, holding a glass and pouring the water into it, while looking at me. It's a little bit creepy, but it's serious enough that I hold eye contact. Her eyes are a bit misty. The only sound is the pouring water, and when that stops, she offers the glass to me, wordlessly. I take it, and drink half the glass, maintaining eye contact.

"Now that we're friends," she says, "I want to make one thing clear. You are not going to try to change her. You are not going to pressure her to do anything with her body, or anything else, that she doesn't want to do. If you're thinking that you have some plan to take her pretty face and put a skinny body to go with it, through mind control and pressuring and coercion, I won't have it. I know how men can be. I want this all up, out in the open, right now. Jocelyn does not have the experience with guys that she ought to, and I suspect she doesn't know how they can hurt."

I hesitate to speak. It's clear that Mrs. Keener was speaking of her own life. She knows her daughter but she doesn't know me. She doesn't know about men like me, because she only has experience with men who are attracted to women like her. She's operating from some buried hurt, and I want to put her mind at ease.

"Sue, believe me. I love Jocelyn just the way she is. I'm not like those other guys."

Pause. The sounds of Jocelyn and Theo out on the porch, laughing.

"So I suppose you like women with... a bigger... frame."

"I suppose I do."

"That's... good. Great, even." Her smile snaps back, like it had never left. "See? Told you I wouldn't bite your head off! I hope you're hungry, we've got lots of options tonight!"

I had never met a woman like Jocelyn Conroy. And I have never met a woman like Sue Keener.

The patio door slides open and Jocelyn wobbles in carrying the giant serving bowl of potato salad in one hand, and spooning it in into her maw with the other. The ice cream from around her mouth has been cleaned away.

"Whud err ooo due talkin bow en ear?" she asks, her mouth crazy full.

"Oh nothing dear," says Sue, "Can I get you a plate for that?"

Jocelyn swallows.

"No, I'm good. Theo needs help bringing in all the food." She sits her bubble butt on a chair, which creaks ominously beneath her. Sue and I exchange a look, and when it becomes clear that the chair is going to hold (for now), we both share a smile. We've reached an understanding. Sue and I are going to get along just fine.

"Mamabear, can you get me a can of coke? Davey, how come you didn't tell me I had ice cream all over my face? I had to wash it off with pool water."

"I don't know," I say, "I thought it suited you. Wait a minute. Pool water?"

"Did I forget to tell you Mamabear's got a pool? Maybe we can go for a swim after dinner. Theo can lend you some swimming trunks."

"And what will you wear?"

"Don't worry. I brought my swimsuit."

This is exciting news. She definitely hasn't bought a new suit since we started dating, and she's put on weight just since then. Who knows when the suit dates from? I move behind her and hug her around the shoulders. I go to grab the spoon, and she yanks it away.

"Hey, who said you could have my poh-tay-toes?"

"I was gonna help you, that's all."

We both know "help you" is code for "feed you myself while you sit back looking beautiful". I proceed to spoon creamy potato salad into my girl's mouth, watching her chubby cheeks bounce with pleasure. I turn and give Sue a wink. She gets it. She places a coke, radiating cold, in front of Jocelyn. In between bites, she pops the tab and chugs it back, a rivulet of soda dribbling down her double chin, draining over half the can in one go before releasing the can from her lips and letting loose with a prolonged -


"BUUUUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPP!"

I shit you not, the walls shook.

"Was that a low-flying plane?" jokes Sue.

"scuse me," mutters Jocelyn. I move to continue feeding her the potato salad, but she rips the spoon from my grasp. "Aren't you gonna help Theo with the food? He'll throw his back out."

"You're not gonna help too?" I ask, facetiously.

"Yeah right, I'm already sitting. And I'm tired from... something." Couldn't even think of a proper excuse. "Now chop chop!"

I do as I'm told.

Last edited by Uncle Jack; 03-06-2014 at 04:04 PM. Reason: formatting
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Old 03-07-2014, 06:23 PM   #81
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Wow! What a really Great Reward for just dropping in to Dims to see if anything was happening. I so love Jos's mum!
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Old 03-09-2014, 04:07 PM   #82
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Jocelyn made an absolute pig of herself, as she sat high and mighty on her voluptuous rump. After she had worked through roughly half of the feast the class had supplied for her, she took a break to digest and relax. My girl could really work herself up gorging, and she had no compunction about doing it in public. She had some kind of oil on her face, likely from the vinaigrette on the chicken Caesar salad that one of my classmates had given her. I swear, considering Jocelyn's compunctions for McDonald's food, pizza delivery, and Coke products, there were days when she ate better at work than she did on her own time. She placed one hand on her stomach and rubbed the soft yielding flab around her belly button in a slow clockwise circle. Her other hand was busy thumb-texting on her phone.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I looked at the message:

nice and full… wish i had someone to give me a belly rub lol

I looked at Jocelyn and she winked at me.

"Alright (urp) everybody. (hic-burp) I think it's a good time for break," she said. People around me were playing video games, playing cards, checking fantasy leagues, having in-depth conversations, but feeling so free in the workspace, as great as it was, only served to remind people of what freedom of mobility meant, so no one hesitated to take the opportunity to get out of the room for a spell.

I stayed as everyone else left, until it was just me and Jocelyn. I came over to her and placed my hand on her protruding stomach.

"Mmmm, that feels nice." She let out a subdued, lengthy fart. "Heehee, pardonnez-moi, mon petit ami. Glad I managed to hold that in while the class was in here. C'est tres embarassant." Said the girl who was showing off her rolls like a bakery. Flatulence was the one thing that still embarrassed her, at least out of the house…

(Pprrpffrrppfff)

"Jocelyn, please we're trying to eat! Excuse yourself!"

"Huh? Whu dye do?" Her full mouth sprays flecks of chicken on the table.

Sue sighs and says, "Nothing, dear. Are you enjoying your food?"

Jocelyn swallows and says, "Absolutely. It's maximum noms." And then dives back in.

Jocelyn is making an absolute pig of herself, sitting high and mighty on her voluptuous rump. She's worked through hamburgers, hot dogs, pork chops, chicken, and ribs. She's hogged the entire potato salad herself, and is currently hogging the mac'n'cheese, which bums the three of us out, because it looks really good. She has four plates in front of her, with many of the side dishes dragged to her side, so that the three of us are crammed closer together across from her side of the circular table. Slightly isolated from us, utterly absorbed in her queen-sized meal, sitting high on her bulbous bottom, she looked absolutely ginormous. Leaning forward over her plate, shovelling her food, she was presenting her cleavage in a way that I didn't normally get to see, or at least pay attention to. Her breasts were never her most prominent feature, but they were gorgeous globes in their own right, if dwarfed by her rear end and big belly.

Jocelyn's face screws up thoughtfully as she chews her food. She swallows, and amazingly doesn't reach immediately for another bite. The lack of noises associated with her eating creates a noticeable silence in the room.

"Joss honey, is something the matter?" asks Sue.

"Is that really all the chicken there is? Are we for serious out of chicken?"

"Chicken's all gone, sweetheart," says Theo, "You made short work of it."

Theo's a really nice guy, kind of an older hippie, and a practicing Buddhist, though not a vegetarian, surprisingly. Circle of life, he said, when I asked, which both did and didn't explain things. Every negative thing seems to slide off him like duck off a water's back. He's one of those people you like immediately, through sheer force of charisma.

Jocelyn is craning around the table to look at our plates. The three of us each have a piece of chicken on our plates, as we have been eating at regular human speed and not Jocelyn speed.

"It's not all gone. You each have some chicky chicky yum yum on your plates. Can I have it please?"

Normally, I wouldn't hesitate. But I knew that there was a big meal waiting for me at Jocelyn's mom's place, and that there would be tons to eat, even factoring in Jocelyn herself. I'm so hungry that my hands are a little shaky. The three of us look at each other. It seems clear to me that they are as reluctant to give up their pieces as I am.

"I think we're a bit hungry ourselves. We like the chicken too, y'know," says Theo.

"But I'm hungry, and the chicken is so good. Davey, why won't you give me your chicky?"

Powerless to resist, I get up and slide my chicken on to her plate. I also have a few onion rings on my plate which she says looks 'yummers', so away they go too. All I'm left with is the refreshing garden salad that Sue whipped up. Jocelyn proclaims it 'unnecessary'.

"Theo, give me your chicken. I want your chicken. Give it."

It would go against Theo to fan the flames that are inherent in Jocelyn's tone of voice, and so he is also doing the plate dump, sliding the remnants of his plate onto Jocelyn's, also left with garden salad.

Jocelyn takes a big bite of chicken and stares at Sue while she chews.

"Mamabear, aren't you gonna give me your chicken?" She bats her big eyes and plays innocent.

"Jocelyn, Theo and I worked hard on this meal. I'm hungry, and I could use the chicken. Don't you think you've had enough?"

Jocelyn's eyes dart to mine, than back to her mother's.

"What do you mean, had enough? I'm still hungry, so how could I have had enough? You know that doesn't make any sense."

"Are you sure you're still hungry? I mean really sure."

"Of course, I'm sure. I feel hungry, so I want food. I want your chicken!"

Jocelyn makes a pointless instinctual lunge across the table, her hands grasping. She knocks over her glasses of juice and wine, spilling them over the table and the floor.

"Jocelyn, I don't want to come down on you," says Sue, "but this new behaviour of yours is a little… extreme, and I don't –"

"Give me the chicken! I want it! I WANT IT!"

Jocelyn makes another futile attempt to reach across the table at her mother's plate. She actually manages to get her butt lifted off her chair with this lunge, but only has the ability to get it half a foot off the seat. When she comes back down, she comes down HARD. The legs on the chair snap off immediately and Jocelyn crashes to the ground, snapping the back off the chair. A large plate with blue floral trimming in the china hutch tips over and breaks. The walls shake, and a picture falls to the ground, the frame cracking.

The three of us get up, rushing to her side. She looks exceptionally round and fat, lying on the ground, her chub everywhere. She's on her back, and her tank top has risen up to under her boobs. Her stomach looks enormous, packed with food, and I think Sue is astonished to see how big it has become. Jocelyn moves herself into a sitting position, which forces a couple of involuntary burps out of her.

"I'm sorry, I broke one of your chairs. Maybe I (urp) ate too much."

"It's okay, honey. Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm okay. I landed on my tushy, and I got enough tushy to protect me."

The fall seems to have knocked her out of her food-obsessed mania. Like I've said before, around food, Jocelyn becomes a different person. She's around food more and more often, so she is that different person more and more often. There's Jocelyn, and there's Mega-Jocelyn. I've learned the ins and outs of how to handle Mega-Jocelyn, and it's not as overt when she's around strangers. But around her family, people she's very familiar with, likely made her feel she could revert to the way she acts with me. Only her mother acted like… well, how a mother would act, instead of like an always-obedient feeder.

"Here, honey, here, you can have my chicken. Have all of it." Sue is scraping her plate on to Jocelyn's. "Theo, Dave, help her up. And don't worry about that chair, dear. The important thing is that you're okay."

The two of us share a glance. Theo rolls up his sleeves, and each of us grab an arm. Jocelyn feels like a lead weight, but we finally get her up. The chair, much of which was underneath Jocelyn's flabby body, is decimated. Splinters of wood are everywhere.

"Wasn't that chair (hiccup) like really old?"

"It's okay, honey, really, you had me frightened."

"I may have put on a couple pounds recently."

"Oh honey, you're not fat, you're just… voluptuous. Like Marilyn Monroe, or Joan on Mad Men. Remember when we used to watch Mad Men together. You're my daughter and I love you!"

Sue and Jocelyn hug, and Sue is tearing up a bit. I suppose it would be difficult having Jocelyn for a daughter, though I suppose other parents would be less lenient watching their adult children eat themselves into further obesity.

"Oh Mamabear, you're the best. Now, where's that chicken at?"

Jocelyn eats our food from her plate while standing up. Her belly is fully out, hanging over the crotch of her tights. The top of her rump is sticking out of her tights, and I feel pretty weird ogling her ass crack in front of her family, but it's difficult to look away.

Jocelyn's in the middle of smacking her lips and burping while I force my view away and pick up the fallen picture in the cracked frame. It's a picture of Jocelyn with her mom and what is likely her brother and sister. It's from years ago; Jocelyn looks high-school aged. She's certainly pudgy, probably what most people would think of as a chubby girl, but not necessarily fat. Normal, in other words. That girl has disappeared, transformed into the burping guzzling consumption machine that took the food out of our mouths.

"Jocelyn, do you want a seat?" asks Sue.

"Burrrp," says Jocelyn, nodding for yes.

Theo and I each take a seat and place it under her. We guide her butt down to the chairs. She softly rests cheek of her double wide butt down. She looks less ludicrous sitting in two chairs, until you realize that the concept of needing two chairs is ludicrous to begin with. I lean in towards her, and she breaks away long enough to give me a kiss…


I broke my lips away from hers. I was still rubbing her belly with one hand.

"Jocelyn, do you want a treat?" I asked.

"Basically always. Duh-doy. What kind of treat?" She's beaming.

"I was thinking I would celebrate our time in training by getting you some snacks from the vending machines. Like on the first day we met."

I helped her up from her seat. Gotta give my biceps their customary workout.

"Oooh, romantic AND yummy. The ultimate combo. Just like a few days ago."

She was referring to earlier that week, when I had introduced the idea of her eating while we got busy. She was oddly reluctant at first. Being new to the whole horizontal mambo thing, I think she felt she should keep the realms of eating and fucking (her longtime favourite hobby and her brand new favourite hobby) separate. She wanted everything to be as 'normal' as possible, at least until she got the hang of the whole being sexy thing. I already knew I wasn't normal and had no intention of pretending to be. I convinced her to eat from a container of Neapolitan ice cream while riding my dick, which she took to like a dog takes to fetch, as you could imagine…
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Old 03-11-2014, 04:05 PM   #83
Markt
 
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Markt can now be the recipient of "two cans" jokesMarkt can now be the recipient of "two cans" jokesMarkt can now be the recipient of "two cans" jokes
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Yum. Great job so far.
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Old 06-16-2014, 09:18 PM   #84
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Hey Uncle Jack, all of your writing is the very best in this genre bar none. And this is your best story. Don't let this amazing gem of a tale die!
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Old 08-01-2015, 01:01 PM   #85
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Would love to have this continue.
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