|10-29-2012, 07:41 PM||#1|
Join Date: Oct 2009
Mall Rats by Onion 88 (~BBW (Multiple) - Imagery, Stuffing, ~SWG )
~BBW (Multiple) - Imagery, Stuffing, ~SWG - Tubby teen trio has a great outing
(whose Deviant Arts page may be found here
"Heather? Is that you?" crackled the electronic voice from the silver intercom.
"*Gulp*...Ahhh! Yeah...now open the gates already, Alyssa!"
With a metallic whine the gates swung slowly inwards, and Heather nudged her powder-pink Mercedes SLK onto the golden gravel driveway that led up to her friend's house. Sweeping towards the portico of the garish McMansion, she slurped down the remainder of the chocolate milkshake she'd picked up on the way over.
Burping contentedly as the last of the sweet beverage slipped down her throat, she pulled up just at the foot of the pretentious fake marble stairs that ran to the front door of the building.
Riding with the drop top down and basking in the warm summer sun, Heather beeped the horn impatiently.
"C'mon, Alyssa! We'll be late for Tamara!" she shouted.
Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, she eyed the second milkshake she'd bought. It was still sitting in its cupholder, waiting for its intended consumer to arrive. Licking her lips, Heather wondered if Alyssa would notice if she took just a tiny sip of the chocolatey drink whilst she waited. After all, it was Alyssa's own fault for dawdling...
Before Heather could act on her hungry impulse, the mansion door burst open and her buxom brunette buddy emerged breathlessly from the voluminous house.
"At last!" cried Heather, somewhat annoyed to be denied another slurp of milkshake.
"Sorry! Sorry!" shouted Alyssa as she scuttled over to the car, waving a rushed goodbye to her bemused father, standing by the door, and who was not used to seeing his daughter move about at such speed. "Byeeeee Daddy!"
"Hi Mr D!" called Heather, waving in a friendly fashion to the figure on the porch.
Alyssa's progress to the car, although hurried, was not exactly elegant. When they'd first become friends in junior high, neither girl had been what you might call athletic. In the years that followed, it wasn't just their friendship that had grown; both girls had blossomed from plump junior high freshmen into true heavyweight hotties.
The striking curvaceous beauty of the pear-shaped wonder that was Alyssa was lessened a little in its impact by her ungainly hurried waddle towards the waiting car and its impatient occupant. Carefully dressed in hipster jeans and a green crop-top worn over a stylishly faded t-shirt, Alyssa's lumbering progress was still too slow for Heather's liking.
"Hurry up, slow poke! I'll go without you!"
"No way....wait!" puffed the tubby teen.
Opening the passenger door, Alyssa winced with displeasure at the sight of the sharp confines of the small sports car. She knew from experience how awkward it was to cram her plentiful rump into the tiny space of Heather's Merc. Her pretty brow contorted with concentration as she manoeuvred her bountiful booty backwards into the seat, wiggling her hips and struggling to keep herself from spilling over onto the gearstick.
Heather would have made a snarky remark, but the truth was that she was in no better position than her well-padded friend. The car had been a sweet-sixteen present from her parents, purchased for their spoilt daughter when she'd been considerably thinner.
Two years down the line Heather was no longer able to comfortably squeeze herself into the compact driving position of the small European sports car. Her belly brushed uncomfortably against the steering wheel, and a considerable quantity of hips and bottom overflowed the edges of the luxury leather seat.
"Ommpf!" breathed out the constricted bottom-heavy beauty, "Heath, honestly, get a new car, girl!"
"Yeah, like, how dummy? Mom and Dad aren't going to get me a bigger one just because your fat ass won't fit in it!"
"No....but they might because your fat tummy won't" giggled Alyssa, staring pointedly at the steering wheel digging into her friend's gut.
Seeing that Alyssa had her checkmated, Heather put the car in gear and pulled away from the house with a spray of gravel and irritated grunt.
Heather and Alyssa arrived at the Mall not far past the time they'd agreed to meet their mutual friend, Tamara. After the ride, they'd more than made up for their little argument over the size of the car and were chatting happily about the day ahead. Alyssa had soon forgiven Heather for her insinuations about the size of her butt when she'd learned that the chocolate milkshake sitting in the cupholder was for her, and it had been only a matter of minutes before the 32oz cup had been drained of its sugary contents.
Parking up as close as they could get to the entrance, the two fashionista teens hauled themselves out of the low-riding car - another design feature that had become increasingly incompatible with their growing figures over the years.
An observer would have had a fine spectacle to behold, watching the two extricate themselves from the low car seats. Heather in particular had to struggle to get clear of the steering column, her prominent belly proving a formidable obstacle. Although she'd never admit it to Alyssa, she was beginning to think that maybe the time had come to trade in her Benz for a comfortable SUV better suited to accommodating her expanding curves.
Alyssa was already out of the car and on her phone to Tamara by the time Heather had succeeding in squirming free from the driver's seat. Pausing to adjust her clothing after the battle with the car, Heather also caught her breath and looked around to see if she could spot Tamara's car anywhere nearby. Wearing a light blue dress over a pair of charcoal grey leggings and custom made tan boots, Heather was looking elegant and delectable, her plump form displayed to fine advantage and revealing unusual taste for her age. The mall parking lot was already filled with cars, and Heather could make no sighting of her friend's car.
"C'mon, Heather - Tamara's already waiting for us!" said Alyssa, indicating the entrance and leading the way.
"Where is she?"
"Um, the food court?"
"That's why we get on so well, Heath, you're such a genius..."
Following in the wake of Alyssa's bootylicious form, Heather wondered if her already buxom friend had grown even more curvaceous since she'd last seen her. Although not exactly bursting out of her outfit, it was clear that the limits of the jeans were being tested by the globular immensity of her undulating backside. The hipsters were not doing much to help disguise the generous scale of the muffin top which rested so fulsomely on top Alyssa's hips, and flashes of plump flesh showed with every rolling step.
Heather's own ensemble was rather more carefully designed to disguise her true size. Her bulbous belly was at least partially diminished in apparent scale by the clever way she'd worn a mid-body belt under her bust, drawing the eye's attention away from the swell of her gut and towards the rounded fullness of her breasts. Still, Heather couldn't deny that her own clothes had been feeling just a little too snug for comfort lately. Fortunately for Heather and Alyssa, visiting the mall with near religious regularity was the pastime that so firmly cemented their friendship - the frequent updates to their respective wardrobes was an important necessity for both growing girls.
Pausing only to pick up a bag of cookies to munch on for the duration of the short walk to the mall's foodcourt, Alyssa and Heather soon sighted Tamara.
"Hey, Tam! Over here!" cried Heather, pointing to the table and pulling Alyssa along with the other hand.
Tamara completed the group - the third friend in the trio that had been hanging out together in this mall for years. Almost every weekend without fail the girls met up and spent the days leisurely wandering between the foodcourt, clothes stores, restaurants and the multiplex.
"Hi Lyssa, Heath!" called the seated figure, waving a chubby arm in the air and smiling broadly as her friends approached. Weaving between the tables, the tubby duo beamed happily and embraced Tamara in a rather fleshy dual hug.
"So you made it, at last! I couldn't wait for breakfast you know..." said Tamara, looking slightly abashed at the fact she'd already eaten. The leftovers of what had clearly been an all-out breakfast were strewn over the table, a couple of trays testifying to a return visit to the buffet line.
"It's ok, Tam, we're late anyways. It was Alyssa taking aggeees as always" said Heather, rolling her eyes.
"Was not!" said Alyssa defiantly, "anyway, I'm starved, let's eat!"
"Yeah, you guys get something and come join me here" agreed Tamara.
"Mmm, yes, what's good today, Tam? I could go for a big breakfast this morning" said Heather, resting a hand on the top of her bulging belly, which had started to grumble with hunger. Apparently, the cookies and milkshake had served only to whet the girl's appetite.
Tamara enthusiastically listed the particular delights available from the buffet, singling out her especial favourites and commending them to Heather. Alyssa's eyes seemed to glaze over in a dreamy trance as Tamara spoke. Heather was likewise transfixed, her hand gently caressing the soft flesh of her gargantuan gut.
"Sounds fantastic, let's go get it!" enthused Heather, staring hungrily at the expanse of the breakfast buffet awaiting her attentions on the other side of the food court.
"Sure thing - can we get you anyhting extra, Tam?" asked Alyssa, always thoughtful of her friends' comfort.
"Oh no, I'm full..." demurred Tamara.
"You sure? It's no problem" pressed Alyssa.
"Well, you could get me a couple more pancakes. And maybe a little side of hash browns. Oh! And some more extra crispy bacon. And just a touch of scrambled egg...."
Tamara's mouth watered as she reeled off her "small "order to her friends, who were not in the least taken aback that a girl should want a second breakfast. Well, technically speaking a third breakfast since Tamara, and indeed Heather and Alyssa, had already eaten at home before heading out.
Tamara sat eagerly awaiting the return of her friends whilst the trundled towards the buffet with hungry looks writ on their chubby countenances. Although mainly psyched to see her besties, Tamara's enthusiasm was in no small part fuelled by anticipation of the tasty delights headed her way.
Not as bottom heavy as Alyssa, nor so generously bellied as Heather, Tamara held an almost incredible portion of her mounting poundage in a chest that was the envy of her entire high school. Her magnificent melons had been expanding voraciously ever since her early teens, but in the past few years the fiery red-head had wandered into a level of top-heaviness that verged on the fantastical.
Displaying her cleavage to staggering effect, Tamara was dressed in a cotton blouse that was buttoned so scandalously as to seriously risk outraging public decency. Had any cop been able to take his gaze from the hypnotic globes of seductively swaying plump young flesh, he would surely have been forced to make an instant arrest in the name of public morals.
Naturally enough, life with Heather and Alyssa as your best friends tended to add considerably to a girl's figure, and it was not even the magical properties of her phantasmagorical boobs could extend their mystical powers to the protection of the rest of Tamara's burgeoning bod.
The softening effects of the hungry red-head's prolific appetites had gone beyond merely endowing her with the most eye-catching chest for miles around. A well-rounded belly resting heavily on a pair of thick thighs testified to the not insignificant amount of fresh chub that was escaping the lure of the monstrous mammaries and finding its way to new territory.
Hidden away beneath the table, and in the shadow of the massive boobs looming overheard, a taut black pencil skirt was struggling valiantly to contain the near explosive force of a tummy pressurised by a morning of breakfastly indulgence.
Meanwhile at the buffet tables, Heather and Alyssa were positively drooling with anticipation as they piled their trays high with heaps of bacon, eggs, grits, pancakes, muffins, croissants and pastries. Squealing with excitement as she spotted a particularly tempting cinnamon danish, Heather resembled nothing more than a agitated piglet waiting for her morning feed.
The food court staff were no strangers to the hungry duo, and paid the girls no mind as they ferried off enough food to feed a small African nation. Indeed, the tubby two were not even particularly remarkable patrons of the generously priced eatery; the mall food court was a favourite hangout for many of the town's plumper teenage residents. Each weekend, a steady stream of overfed young porkers could generally be seen each wobbling back and forth between the buffet and their tables.
The food court management had long ago figured out that so long as they kept prices low and portions large, they could count on the business of the growing number of local girls with an appetite to satisfy.
Back at their table, the girls attacked their morning refreshment with vigour. Even Tamara seemed to have forgotten her earlier repast, and was digging in with relish to her pile of blueberry pancakes with undimmed enthusiasm. The usual chattering and giggling of teenage girls was strangely absent as the trio attended first to the demands of their tummies, and only second to the prerogatives of gossipy adolescents. Only once a substantial portion of the heaped trays of food had vanished did the pace of consumption slow sufficiently to allow meaningful conversation to take place.
"So girlies, what're we doing?" queried Tamara, licking the maple syrup from her pinkie finger.
The eager redhead usually assumed a fairly dominant role in shaping the group's activities, but since all three shared the same interests - namely shopping and enjoying the mall's various eating establishments - this posed little difficulty.
"Totally want to see that new movie, Bradd Starfedler is sooooo dreamy!" cooed Alyssa, smiling like a dopey puppy and thinking lustfully of the latest object teenage infatuation.
"That's Two to Tango, right?" asked Tamara through a mouthful of bran muffin.
"Yeah, Lyssa's been going on about it all week" answered Heather with a roll of her eyes.
"I'm up for it. But we gotta go check out what's in the stores - man I need some new clothes, like, urgently!" proclaimed Tamara, tugging uncomfortably at the constricting waistband of her skirt.
Heather nodded an enthusiastic assent to this plan, mindful of the awkward tautening of many of her own outfits. The ballooning blonde beauty didn't mind gaining the odd pound here and there, and she certainly loved shopping for clothes, but she still wished that her favourite outfits wouldn't end up on the scrapheap so often.
"OK chicas, let's shop!" cried Tamara, thrusting her chair back and standing up with such rapidity that it seemed to take a while for her chest to catch up. Tossing her flaming hair over her shoulder, she led the way out of the food court and into the pristine and sanitised white embrace of the retail palace beyond.
Retail therapy was any teenage girl's dream activity, and the tubby trio were true addicts of the credit card rush. Cash registers rang with joyous beeps and boops as the girls hoovered up the latest fashions to flatter their vanity - all paid for on plastic generously provided by daddy. Shopping bags were ferried to and fro from the concierge desk for later delivery to the girls' cars.
A smartly dressed Asian clerk smiled and politely stowed away the teenagers' purchases; she'd seen such girls many times before and knew the spoiled spending habits of the princesses from the rich side of town. Watching the bloated beauties waddling back and forth with bag after bag of goods, the slim clerk marvelled at the lumbering hotties scarfing down donuts and cookies and icecreams as they shopped.
'Woah,' mutter the clerk under her breath as she took in the heaving bulk of Heather's quivering belly , 'no designer label is going to hide that bowl of jello, honey!'
"*Opmf!* Hi...*puff*...could you, like keep that for me too, please?" wheezed Heather, dumping her latest acquisitions onto the desk.
"Why of course, Miss! Thank you!" chirped the slender assistant.
Fortunately for the girls, the mall was increasingly responsive to the purchasing power of the heftier customers who were frequenting its stores, and the fuller figure was no longer without clothing options. The town's girls might have been growing a bit beyond regular sizes, but their cash spoke louder than their waistlines, and the astute retailers were swift to respond to demand. The mall sported a wide selection of clothes outlets who were more than aware of the business sense of catering to the needs of a fashion-conscious teen with cash in her pocket and a few extra pounds on her midriff.
Some of the smarter salespeople in the mall had spotted a while back that as they stocked more and more desirable plus-sized fashions, the faster the town's girls seemed to outgrow them. A shrewd manager could well notice that a comfortably-clothed young woman was much more likely to hit the food court than if she was struggling in a too-small outfit.
A highly profitable cycle was soon established; from clothing store to food court, and then back again to clothing store. Teenage girls, chunking up on mall food, were seemingly content to keep on munching so long as they could get the fashions they craved in the sizes they needed.
It was perhaps no surprise that these were prosperous times for the mall and the businesses within it. Clothing outlets were booming, and selling more outfits more quickly to more customers than ever before. The mall's restaurants, food court, snack stores and concession stands were all reporting record profits. The multiplex cinema was selling out at weekends, and doing a roaring trade in popcorn, hotdogs, and almost every other snackable food they could think to sell.
Even mall security was enjoying a golden era of peaceable success. The rowdy teens of yesteryear had been a constant problem for the mall's security guards, pulling practical jokes, skate boarding and rollerblading down the shiny corridors of the large retail park.
The current generation of young customers was more or less devoid of troublemakers. The teenage girls milling around the mall today would never dream of causing any trouble that might risk a ban from their favourite hangout. Even if they'd been minded to rebel against the consumerist paradise, their food-filled bellies would not have permitted them to evade security.
Heather, Alyssa and Tamara were happily slurping down some ice creams as they wobbled slowly into yet another glamorous store. The girls were growing rather hungry for their lunch, and this was intended to be the last shopping call of the morning before they sought out their favourite burger bar for a well-deserved rest from the rigours of non-stop shopping.
The store, glorying in the pretentious title of le Elegance, specialised in providing sophisticated formal wear. In years past, the prestige of the store would have depended on callously disregarding girls' of such generous figures, but the new reality of business was that only a fool would throw away such an opportunity.
Tamara and Alyssa both had already bought gowns from the store, and did not need anything today. Heather, however, needed to arrange for her prom dress to be adjusted to accommodate a recent horizontal growth-spurt. Her unexpected expansion had left her unable to squeeze into the tasteful brown gown she'd picked out several months ago in anticipation of the end of year prom.
Within seconds of entering the chic interior of the store, a dazzlingly stylish assistant was flitting to the girls' side, welcoming them back and ushering them towards the fitting area at the back. Heather and Tamara were known to all the clerks as particularly big spenders, and it paid to flatter them with the utmost in service. It didn't take a moment for Heather to explain the situation, and with and understanding nod the desk clerk had discretely called for the store's fitting expert to attend to her.
The curtained-off fitting room into which the girls were directed was of extraordinary size. The store had found it expedient a few years ago to greatly enlarge the changing spaces available to their clients, and it was a good thing too, since the three buxom teenagers took up a goodly amount of real-estate between them.
Tamara and Alyssa settled down into two plush armchairs that were positioned up against the wall, adjacent to the floor-to-ceiling mirror that added to the spacious feeling of the enclosure. It was a tough battle for Alyssa to force her swollen rump into the chair, and the clerk made a mental note that perhaps the time had come to switch to armless seats.
In no time, the fitting expert flitted through the drawn curtain, welcoming Heather like an old friend and cooing over her. The woman was slender and middle-aged, exquisitely dressed in a fine cut silk suit and perched elegantly on razor-sharp heels that boosted her height a good six inches. She'd come to know all three girls well over the past years, and had tailored all their formalwear for the various proms and formals they'd been to. She specialised in providing sartorial services to the fuller-figured young woman, and her reputation had won her great admiration throughout the town's burgeoning population of heavy hotties.
Heather started to explain her predicament, but before she'd uttered a complete sentence, she was cut off.
"Hush hush, Heather, daahling, let me wohrk!"
It didn't take much for her to deduce the exact nature of the problem, and in a second she'd instructed the girl to slip out of her dress and leggings so they could try fitting a new, larger size. In the meantime, she vanished behind the curtain to fetch some gowns for Heather to try.
Heather happily complied with the instruction - getting undressed in front of Tam and Alyssa was no biggie - the girls had shared more than enough slumber parties to be complete comfortable around one another's bodies. Besides, when it came to clothes shopping, half the fun was getting the feedback from her two besties.
Whistling back into the fitting room with a collection of silk gowns draped over her arm, the woman smiled at Heather, who was standing in the middle of the room in her bra and panties. As she'd suspected, it was immediately obvious what the problem was. Since she'd bought the dress, the growing girl had failed to slow her rate of expansion. It had been only a matter of time until a refitting was needed. Several adjustment sessions had followed over the preceding months, but evidently they had not been enough to head off the latest additions of the blonde's girth.
"Uh uh uh! Miss Heather, sweetie, you naugghhhty girl! I can see your little tummy - eets not so little! Did I not say last time?!" she chided Heather lightly, whipping a tape measure around the girl's massive midriff and confirming her suspicions.
Heather giggled and blushed and made a comedic effort to suck her gut in, laughing with everyone else when she released her breath and sent her prodigious belly surging forwards.
Standing in the well-lit room in nothing more than her underwear, Heather looked like the poster-child for the teenage obesity epidemic. Any passing nutritionist, had they blundered in on the scene, would most likely have had a seizure. Stripped of the optical illusions of her carefully construed outfit, Heather could no longer disguise the true scale of her fatness.
Her flabbiness seemed to permeate every aspect of her body. Dumpling feet sported chubby pink toes, whilst soft baby-fat hands crowned arms that, with even the tiniest of motions, set their thick blubbery coating trembling. Above all, Heather's monstrous belly dominated a figure of such striking obesity that the very word might have been designed to describe her. Vast, round, and centred with a belly button of such cavernous depths that only the brave of heart would dare explore it, Heather's gluttonous, pampered lifestyle had endowed her with a gut that told the tale of thousand excesses and a million overindulgences.
A whirlwind of measurements and suggestions followed, all the while the clerk mentally noting the adjustments that would have to be made to the gown to give it a fighting chance of seeing it through to the summer prom in two months' time.
Unlike many of her more judgmental staff, the trim fashionista did not find it unappealing to work with girls like Heather and her friends. Finding their bloated bodies to be a more interesting challenge than the twiggy figures more associated with high fashion, she enjoyed the chance to show off her skill.
Heather was one of her pet projects. Ever since she was a flabby freshman looking for her first prom dress, Heather had come to depend on this store for her gowns. The fitting clerk had grown to adore the vain but helpless plumper as she came back to the store again and again, demanding endless alterations and adjustments. Now the blonde teen was so porky that only the most skilled of couturists could hope to lend a dash of elegance to so much jiggling young flesh.
It didn't take long for the fitting expert to get the figures she needed. Giving a playful prod to Heather's thick rolls of belly fat, she reminded Heather not to "eet" too much between now and the prom, or else she'd need another refitting. Heather took the warning in good humour, but the mere mention of eating set her at once to thinking about lunch. As fast as her bulk would permit, she slipped back into her clothes whilst her friends chatted with the clerk.
Knowing Tamara and Alyssa almost as well as she knew Heather, the woman inquired politely whether they too would need a refitting. Both girls shook their heads, confident that unlike their friend they'd be able to keep their weight in check before prom night. The clerk accepted their answers without demur, but a quick glance at the puckered fabric across Tamara's bloated boobs, and the straining button on Alyssa's tortured skirt told her skilful eye that it would not be long until the store would have their business.
Satisfied that her prom preparations were in safe hands, Heather was happy to leave matters with the clerk and bid her a fond farewell. Watching the trio of swollen belles tottering out of the store towards the food court, the clerk smiled ruefully. She loved her endlessly-growing young customers, but sometimes she wondered if these girls would ever know when to stop.
|10-29-2012, 07:42 PM||#2|
Join Date: Oct 2009
A morning of shopping was all that was needed to give a sharp edge to the girls' ravenous appetites, and all three were feeling that they'd lingered rather too long at le Elegance. Their hunger lent an unusual spur to their pace, and their accustomed sedate walk became more of an ungainly waddling dash towards the food court.
The passage of the heavy trio didn't go unnoticed by the mall's other occupants. A pair of visitors from out of town girls sitting on a bench sharing a box of Lady Godiva chocolates and chugging down 64oz sodas watched in a fit of silent giggles as the chunky threesome thundered past.
"Like...oh....my...WOW!" said the first girl, popping a chocolate into her mouth and pointing at the quaking blubber of Alyssa's backside.
"I mean, like, please, shoot me if I ever let myself go like that" replied the other, taking a deep draught from her cola.
"I know - I could never give up my figure for anything.....ooooh, is that a caramel? Pass it here, Becky!"
Like so many hogs hurrying back to the trough, the girls arrived flushed and panting at the food court they'd only left a few hours ago. Lunchtime always witnessed a gathering of ravenous young shoppers at the malls expansive range of eateries. A large collection of tubby teenage tummies were already to be seen in the food court, receiving their mid-day fill.
Not many could rival the proportions of Heather's spectacular belly, and there were precious few asses that measured up to Alyssa's impressive pear-shaped proportions. Of course, it was simply impossible to find a pair of melons anywhere in the entire state that could give Tamara's frankly jaw-dropping chest a run for its money. The trio might have been the prize pigs, but among so many young porkers they were relatively inconspicuous.
Spitting up for the first time since they'd met at the mall, Heather, Alyssa and Tamara all headed to the food counter that most suited their immediate tastes. Her mouth watering in gluttonous anticipation, Alyssa waddled her buxom body over to the pizzeria, the delicious aromas pulling her towards the outlet with irresistible force. A morning of moving about had caused her overworked shirt to ride up, exposing fully what had earlier been only a sliver of flesh. Burgeoning muffin top on full display, Alyssa was oblivious to the thick tyre of wobbling flab that rolled out over her waistband. Fortunately for her, the pizzeria staff had long since grown accustomed to the sight of such wardrobe malfunctions.
Tamara had opted for an all-American start to the afternoon's feasting, and was in the process of picking up as many burgers as she thought she could carry back to their table. The seductive red-head had long ago learned how to deploy her staggering arsenal of boobery to her advantage.
As the spotty teenage boy in charge of fries was scooping avalanches of the golden straws onto her plate, she winked at him and gave her chest a little shimmy, sending a great shuddering ripple through the mountains of exposed breast flesh and hypnotising the defenceless male. Transfixed by the ocean of jiggling boob-meat before him, he dumbly kept on piling on the fries until the plate was almost drowned in them. Seeing her prize was secure, Tamara licked her lips and thanked the boy with her cutest smile and a further gratuitous shudder of her bloated bosom.
Unsurprisingly, Heather had been unable to tear herself away from the Mexican food counter, and with a surprising burst of speed had manoeuvred herself between the Formica tables and plastic plants to get to the delights within.
Anything that you could load with melted cheese, sour cream, and guacamole was alright by Heather, and a huge platter of tacos was soon within her grasping hands. If the weight of her tray had not required her to hold it with both hands, she'd have whipped the first few into her mouth at once, without waiting for the tedious necessity of getting back to her friends and the table.
Tamara arrived back at the table first, and was soon digging in with relish to her burger feast. Being so top-heavy, she was a little more mobile than her two friends. Her zaftig boobs did not have to be awkwardly squeezed between the seats and tables of the food court, whilst Heather had to struggle to wriggle the great circumference of her belly past such obstacles. Alyssa's outrageous butt and equally astounding thighs limited her to a slow waddling pace that had left her the slowest of the trio.
As with breakfast before, there was precious little conversation for the first minutes of the meal. The hungry teens were far too preoccupied with the burning craving that was rumbling within them. Restrained only by the rate at which they could swallow each mouthful, their lunch was less of a civilised social event than it was a spectacle of guzzling gluttonous girls gorging their gargantuan guts.
Perhaps such a scene would have been shocking to the denizens of the food court not so very long ago. But, surrounded as they were by other teens piggishly digging into to whatever food they could get their chubby hands on, there was no sense of scandal or shame for the indulgences of the three friends. The only featherweight diners to be found in the food court were the occasional senior citizens who had nothing better to do with their weekends than eat out at the mall. They had long grown used to the sight of a fat young beauty pouring food down her throat like her life depended on it.
Lunching together was probably the highpoint of the girls' weekend trips to the mall. It would have been incontestably so if dinner and breakfast weren't also such enjoyable competition for lunch. Without fail, the girls would spend every spare moment they got together in the mall, shopping and eating to their hearts' content.
The sanitised, air-conditioned, artificially lit and muzak-playing shopping centre was a paradise as far as the three teens were concerned. It had everything they could ever want - namely food and retail outlets welcomed daddy's plastic - and none of the things they hated - like long walks or fresh air. Everything in the temple of consumerism seemed designed for their comfort and convenience, and if there was one place where each of the girls would have been content to call heaven, this was surely it.
Lost in their own little worlds of calorific bliss, the three teens were almost unaware of each other's presence. Heather's soft tanned hands were messy with the spillage from her tacos. One after another, the golden taco shells ferried their doomed cargo of ground beef and heaped toppings into the gaping maw of the remorseless teenage eating machine.
Always a greedy girl, Heather's appetite had become all-consuming over the last year. No matter what she stuffed down her throat, she could never quite get enough to sate the dark beast that seemed to have settled in her belly, calling to her to eat on and on. Whilst another girl might have worried about such a terrible loss of control, Heather abandoned herself with hedonistic glee to the demands of her appetite, surrendering completely to the monster that dwelt within. The deep, thick, soft, heavy fat that bulged everywhere from her swollen young body was the well-deserved evidence of her capitulation to gluttony.
Alyssa's pizzas slipped as easily between her plump lips as might breaths of air. Less wilfully self-indulgent than her belly-heavy friend, what Alyssa lacked in hedonism she made up for with helplessness. Fretting and worrying about her ever-growing figure, she knew that she shouldn't eat so very, very much. Yet willpower and Alyssa were not on speaking terms, and it was with a pathetic powerlessness that she confronted the sharp commands of her rumbling tummy. If food was what she wanted, Alyssa would prevaricate and dither and think of her skyrocketing weight, and would then promptly give in.
Often, the blonde teen would still be mentally debating whether or not to eat that last piece of chocolate cake even as she was covering it in cool-whip and fetching herself a spoon. That magical feeling of fullness was something that Alyssa just couldn't give up. Much as she might squirm with self-consciousness every time she outgrew a pair of jeans, she could never bring herself to kick the comforts of a lifestyle she loved too much. Watching her friends yielding so willingly to their own appetites, Alyssa felt far less guilty when she conceded defeat to her own.
Tamara's view on things was rather more straightforward. Always a strikingly good looking girl, she'd seen no reason to deny herself anything she wanted simply because it might run contrary to what others thought. Parents and relatives were horrified to see the model-looks of the family beauty slowly sink beneath a growing layer of flab. But the situation was simple; if Tamara was hungry, she'd eat. And it just so happened she was very hungry very often.
In her practical mind, the vast pair of boobs that were the product of her chosen lifestyle were no bad thing. If they had to be paid for at the expense of a few dozen extra inches elsewhere, then that was a price worth paying.
By the time each girl had moved on through several repeat courses, seconds, thirds, and then a whole new set of food from a different counter, it was clear that the clothes they'd bought earlier in the day were in for a serious trial of strength. Tamara's pencil skirt was unhooked, and Alyssa had from the very first bought herself more capacity by unbuttoning her jeans. Heather's elasticised leggings were well suited to allowing for the gradual swell of her tummy, although the dress she was wearing looked distinctly strained.
"So...*burp*...Heath...how's your birthday planning going?" asked Tamara, throwing her flaming red hair back over her shoulder and patting her stuffed belly to soothe it.
"Oh, awesome! Daddy says he'll get me full catering all night - it's going to be epic. You guys will totally love it!" enthused Heather, clapping her tubby hands in excitement at the very thought.
"Oh man, that's gonna be so amazing Heather!" shrilled Alyssa, already picturing the joys of a party at Heather's mansion-esque home. When it came to spending money on their daughter, Heather's parents didn't do things by halves.
"What you going to ask for?" inquired Tamara, wondering what lavish gift Heather would be getting from her father this year.
"Well....I don't know what I want yet. I was thinking a pony but...." Heather trailed off, remembering the rude man from the stables who had flatly refused to sell any animal that might end up being ridden by her. She pouted angrily at the thought, and wished that she'd asked her daddy to get the man fired instead of running away in a flood of tears and comforting herself with an all-day ice-cream marathon.
"You should totally ask for a new car," suggested Alyssa, whose butt was still sore from the squishing it had received in the small Mercedes.
"Yeah, I bet your dad would too, if you asked, Heath," encouraged Tamara, who was also no particular fan of Heather's cramped European sports car.
"No way! They'd freak. And besides, Lyssa's just saying that because she can't fit that fat butt of hers into my car," pointed out Heather, in a petulant tone.
"Yeah, like you can fit in any better, Heather. You look ridiculous in that thing now. You can hardly get into it, and I've seen you trying to get out..." rejoined Tamara, who was more than aware that Heather had long outgrown the confines of a car meant for someone far sleeker.
Heather would have sulked if it hadn't been time to go and fetch another round of food, and the very thought of moving onto some delicious fried chicken was more than enough to lift her spirits.
And so the afternoon wore on. Having taken the edge off their ravening hunger, the girls were free to spend the afternoon grazing contentedly at the food court, eating rather more sedately but still packing away enormous portions. Alyssa in particular loved the feeling of warm fullness that this constant nibbling produced, and she sat, almost stranded in her chair, in a state of total contentment.
Similarly, Heather could always count herself happy so long as there was food in her hand, and she was soon good company again. Tamara, having eaten her fill, was less interested in the ongoing slow feast than her friends, but she could snack with the best of them and a fairly constant trickle of food made its way past her lips over the course of the afternoon.
A delicious lethargy soon held the girls in a firm grip, and it was increasing reluctance that they lumbered back to the food counters to pick up fresh supplies. As was always the case, there was no actual moment at which the teens decided that they'd had enough - they simply gave up on the effort required to go back for more. That particular transition seemed to have occurred when, fishing the last nacho out of the basket, Heather did not at once set off to get more.
Stuffed, supine, sleepy and swollen, the girls were doing their best impression of beached marine mammals. Sprawling in the chairs and nursing bloated bellies tenderly beneath plump hands, each glutted girl was in a very obvious nirvana of overfed satisfaction.
Doubtless had a TV news team been on hand, the evening regional broadcast would have led with a shocking report on the surging rate of teen obesity, and a few headless shots of the heaving young butterballs would have led the story. Perhaps fortunately for the marooned teenagers, no such media people were on hand to document their lifestyles of wanton excess and lazy overindulgence. Their only audience was an indifferent collection of similarly hungry teens and some jaded old folks, who were by now immune to the gluttonous tastes of the younger generation.
Groaning with the combined sensations of total repletion and rather awkward immobility, Heather caressed the firm bulges of her food-stuffed gut. Only in the moments of such well-fed bloatedness did she have any idea of what it was to feel unyielding flesh beneath her touch - at all other times her body was a mass of soft, giving flesh. Swelled with her gorging, Heathers taut stomach was an obscene parody of the hard firmness of a regular, toned tummy. Shifting her bulk on the creaking chair, Heather's thoughts turned to the rest of the day's entertainment.
"So...*oof*...what next guys?"