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How to Have a Fatter Belly - by Wetsobem (~BBW, Eating, ~SWG)

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Wetsobem

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~BBW, Eating, ~SWG - A fat-loving college girl sets out on a unique regimen to increase her largest asset.

How to Have a Fatter Belly
By Wetsobem



Marlene belched loudly and patted her fat, bloated belly. Her hand made wet smacking sounds against her flabby, bare skin, and her more than full stomach gurgled affectionately.

“God, I love doing this!” Marlene said to herself and continued to rub her belly soothingly. Her loose, wobbly fat shifted and jiggled beneath her moving hands.

She referred, of course, to lounging on her bed, shoving huge amounts of fattening junk food down her throat, and watching her belly grow. Marlene had pulled up her shirt and unbuttoned her pants before she had even started her afternoon’s long, delectable pig-out session so she could see the plump, burgeoning fruits of her labors swelling over her lap.

Marlene rolled forward and sat up, flattening the mattress beneath her wide butt and making the flimsy dormitory bed groan dangerously. Her already huge stomach spilled onto her lap as two thick rolls, a smaller pillow on top of a fleshy pink inner tube with her belly button hiding in between. She snatched blindly at the dresser beside her bed to retrieve another cream-filled chocolate snack cake and promptly shoved it whole into her eager mouth. Barely even chewing, she gulped down the gooey treat and gripped her swollen stomach by the sides in satisfaction.

“Mmmmm…” she cooed as she squeezed her lower roll and looked upon it lovingly. “You look great from up here,” she smirked, “but what about to the rest of the world?”

With some effort, Marlene swung her chubby legs over the side of the bed and hefted herself to the floor with a thud. She waddled to the full-length mirror on the outside of her bathroom door while bearing her churning stomach in her hands. She dropped her heavy belly onto her bare upper thighs so that it smacked loudly, and she watched in the mirror the long show of jiggling and bouncing that followed.

“Ah, poo,” Marlene sighed, lightly touching the side of her belly to test that it really matched her reflection.

Marlene’s dark brown eyes looked unhappily at the big, flabby body in the mirror. Despite all of her efforts, most of Marlene’s body was one big disappointment to her. How hard should it be to gain weight? Millions of people were doing it every day without any difficulties at all. Marlene’s problem, though, was that she was far more demanding than most people. She didn’t want to merely pack on the pounds. She wanted to do it right. Why couldn’t the fat just go where she wanted? She poked the bottom of her unsatisfactorily small belly again, hoping that perhaps she had missed something about it in the mirror.

Marlene was, in fact, missing out on many of her best features while pouting over her “tiny” belly. Her gorgeous face would have driven any man mad with lust; though, Marlene’s face did not really match the rest of her body in so much as, without a wider view. Few would ever place her head atop a body anywhere nearly as fat as Marlene’s. She had to swipe a lock of her fluffy brown hair off her eyes, revealing the entirety of a tender, sexy face almost completely unmarred by the fatness enveloping the rest of her body. Though Marlene was well aware of her face’s powers of sexual attraction, the relative svelte smallness of her head was far more important to her; it made the rest of her body appear even more massive by comparison.

But her body needed no help from her head. Marlene was above average height, but her weight was far higher than could be explained by her bone structure. Marlene’s fat body was a labor of love; namely, she loved her fat. More than anything else, Marlene loved her fat belly.

The same men who would so easily fall in love with her face might admit to themselves secretly that even her surprisingly big body might be hot if it were about two hundred pounds lighter. And, indeed, to Marlene’s constant chagrin, she was shaped like an over-bloated classical hourglass. Her bust was magnificent; she sported flabby but well supported breasts, each nearly the size of her own head. Marlene did enjoy her breasts in a much more traditional sense than she enjoyed her face, but even their size and plush softness were pitiful consolations for a girl who yearned for a massive, swollen glob of belly fat to hug and squeeze.

Unfortunately for Marlene, her belly seemed dead set against cooperation. Even under so much fat, Marlene’s waist was pinched strikingly, effectively cutting her belly fat in half and maintaining her busty, thick-hipped body type. Marlene’s lower belly roll was thick and jiggly, but its impressive fatness was lost between her swooping hips.

In a gesture of animosity, Marlene gripped the monstrous hemispheres of her mortal enemy: her ass. She lifted and shook each cheek, sending waves of jiggling over her entire body, and she let loose a cry of frustration. Her ass was huge! Why—was—her—ass—so—HUGE?!

Marlene’s butt was actually just about as perfectly proportioned with the rest of her flaring curves as possible, but to Marlene, anything bigger than her belly was too big. By her reasoning, because her hips were wider, they almost certainly got more attention: they spread out more than her belly when she sat, they were a lot heavier than her precious gut, and her butt cheeks were almost as flabby as her fat belly. The very idea of it! Marlene shook her ass, swiveling in the mirror to find the non-existent magical angle that made it appear smaller. She huffed in indignation when none could be found.

Desperate for some good news, Marlene pounded into the bathroom and stepped on the scale. The digital display cycled its “calculating” animation of dancing lines, and after five seconds 313.0 flashed out of the grey screen.

“Geez, I haven’t been this unlucky since I weighed a hundred thirty,” Marlene mumbled. That had been a long time ago. It had not been a happy time, either. Nevertheless, any number that was bigger than before meant that at least some of the fat was going to her magnificent belly, even if Marlene wished that the increased padding were a little more selective.

Dredged out of her slump, Marlene hoisted up her pants and squeezed the button closed over her belly. Even though her waist was the skinniest part of her torso, her belly itched where the denim rubbed tightly against her tender skin. She knew that in only a few minutes there would be angry red marks that circled her entire waist. Marlene wished that she did not have to subject her delicate belly to such scarring torture—especially because she suspected that squeezing her belly in two every time she put on pants was contributing to its refusal to fill out properly—but it was very hard to find pants that fit properly, and most pairs she bought didn’t last a month before they were too tight again, anyway. Marlene tugged down her shirt and unwrapped another snake cake. She stuffed it into her mouth as she hopped up onto her bed. Thinking with bliss about how full she was already, she reached for another one and swallowed it, too.

Marlene had to continue the rest of her casual binge with her clothes on because she knew that her roommate, Claire, was due back from class any minute. Marlene had always been careful to never let Claire catch her with her pants down—literally—even though there was no way to hide the trash bags full of empty snack wrappers, flattened boxes of cookies, hollow ice cream cartons, and drained milk jugs from her roommate. Claire just seemed to accept that whenever she saw Marlene, she saw Marlene eating; that was who her roommate was. A fat girl who was always eating, and that was the way Marlene liked it.

But Marlene did not like everything about her lifestyle. She did not like having to stop eating delicious treats once her stomach was stuffed full; she did not like that her ass was her dominant feature when she longed for nothing more than to have a gigantic, sexy belly. Marlene absentmindedly squeezed her bloated belly fat and dumped the last snack cake in the box into her hand. Before she ate it, she flipped the box over to read how many calories each cake had been worth, but she was distracted by the humorously ironic “Better Life Through Fitness” fun facts plastered all over the back of the box. A cartoon man and woman jogged along a winding park sidewalk and laughed while a boy played Frisbee with his dog in the background. Marlene read the colorful thought bubbles of information about living a healthy lifestyle as she chewed slowly on the last fattening cake.

Did you know: You burn more calories standing than sitting!

“Yeah, no duh,” Marlene chuckled, spluttering a little chocolate onto the white cardboard.

No time to go to the gym? You can firm your butt and thighs by walking every day!

Marlene’s eyes roved over the rest of the snippets of advice without really reading them, but she read over the one about thighs again before tossing the box away. Curious, she inspected the life-like pictures of the happy man and woman more closely than before. Indeed, both of them were drawn with exceptionally well toned legs. Marlene noted with a touch of jealousy, there wasn’t a woman alive who would call the female jogger’s butt too big. Marlene looked back and forth between the box and her own fleshy thighs. Even restricted in her tight jeans, her thigh fat spread out like warm dough over her bed sheets, stretching the fabric of her pants to the limit.

I do kind of just lie around all day, Marlene thought.

But that only helped her gain weight, right? Something about that stupid fitness advertisement, though, planted the seeds of a radical idea in her head. Marlene had spent most of her young adult life up to the present doing just about everything she could—which usually meant doing as little as possible—to pack on the pounds in the noble quest to build the perfect belly. Every weight gaining tip or trick she had ever read had always been about which foods maximized the amount of calories she could eat in a single sitting, or they told her when, how, and how much to eat to see the best results. But those results had always been just a number. Sure, she was bigger—a lot bigger than she had been a few years ago—but after crossing the two hundred pound mark, she had fully expected to see her belly’s growth accelerate past everything else. She had been wrong.

As much as she loved stuffing herself and getting fatter, she had never devoted any effort toward directing where the fat was going to end up on her body…could she even do that? What Marlene wanted was a bigger belly, but the thought had never crossed her mind that there might be other things she needed to do besides eating and lazing around all day.

All at once, like a cascade of pure brilliance, idea after idea began pouring into Marlene’s head. Some of the solutions seemed so obvious now that she really thought about them. She could make her belly grow faster! Or, at least she could try. If nothing worked, she couldn’t be any worse off for trying. At worst she would have to end up fatter than she was now, which was always a plus in Marlene’s book.

Marlene threw herself out of bed, shaking the contents of the shelves in the room beneath her, and plopped her wide butt down into her desk chair. Snatching a pen and flipping to the first blank page of a little paper note pad, she furiously jotted down her ideas and as many details as she could before she forgot them or they were replaced by fresh inspirations. When her creativity finally dried up—for the moment at least, Marlene read over all she had written, nearly three full pages of notes in all. She crossed out a few things here and there, but could not think of anything else to add. She’d hammer out some of the details later, and she was certain that along the way she would have to make some revisions, but in her fluster of excitement and pride in her ideas, Marlene concluded with a nod that she had just come up with a something that would make her life immeasurably better. With a final flourish of her pen, she scrawled a hastily conceived but descriptive title across the top and underlined it several times energetically.

“How to Have a Fatter Belly.” Marlene held the paper aloft and positively squealed with delight. She could hardly wait to get started!

“What are you writing, Lena?” Claire let the door to their room swing shut on its own, and she threw her school bag under her bed as she spoke.

“Hey, Claire! It’s a list I just made for myself. Sort of a self improvement project I’m going to start working on right away,” she explained with a smile.

“Oh, cool!” Claire chirped, kicking off her shoes. “Does that mean that you’re finally going to read your psych textbook and come to the gym with me?”

Marlene laughed so hard that her jiggling body almost made the chair tip over.

“I guess I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ then?” Claire screwed up her face and rolled her eyes good humouredly at her heaving roommate. Ignoring Marlene until her laughter subsided, Claire released her ruddy red hair from its ponytail and let a few uncombed strands fall onto her face. Claire’s freckled nose and ginger complexion were ever so slightly tanned from the many hours a week she spent running around campus, but genetics kept her from developing the deep bronze that she probably deserved. For everyone who knew Marlene and Claire, though, the difference in complexion was definitely not the most memorable feature about the two oddly matched roommates. Standing next to each other, it looked like Claire’s entire streamlined body could fit inside of Marlene three times over. It did not help that Marlene was almost a head taller than her roommate, whose lithe, toned frame made her seem even smaller next to Marlene’s fat ass and ham-sized breasts.

Eventually, Marlene did stand and walk across the room to where Claire was standing, forcing the smaller girl to directly acknowledge the uncanny size of her sweet-faced friend.

“Psych? No,” Marlene said, wagging her finger. “But,” she added, “I might just take you up on that second offer.”

Claire raised an eyebrow suspiciously and crossed her arms. “Really?” she asked, not believing it one bit. “You? You are going to go to the gym with me?”

“Of course not!” Marlene laughed. She gripped the sides of her gurgling stomach and shook it a little. “And lose all of this? No thanks. I was thinking something a little less…strenuous.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” Claire asked, still skeptical of Marlene’s uncharacteristic desire for exercise.

***​

“Walking!” Marlene declared enthusiastically, and she punched skyward with one flabby arm. Her legs were spread wide in her ludicrously tight yellow exercise shorts, and her other fist was drilled into her side in a silly superhero pose. Marlene, though, looked decidedly less than heroic crammed into an old red t-shirt that would have barely fit her fifty pounds ago and a pair of hot-pants so small that the bottom of her ass hung loosely out of each leg. The rest of her thighs except for the few inches just below her hips were completely uncovered, and her dimply skin gleamed in the warm morning sun.

Claire shook her head and continued stretching. She was understandably a little embarrassed by Marlene’s outburst—though her roommate did not seem to mind the dumbfounded stares of nearly everyone within earshot—but since her friend seemed to have taken a genuine interest in her own well-being, Claire thought it was only right to give her a little companionship in her endeavor. Claire’s sky blue workout clothes were practically new, and they fit her appropriately; she could not help but have a morbid curiosity, though, about when Marlene’s comically small pants were going to snap off of her like a stretched rubber band.

“Stop acting like an idiot so we can get going,” Claire prodded her once she felt sufficiently limber.

“Okay, okay,” Marlene said with a smile and hopped up next to Claire. The mad jiggling that sloshed through her body made her belly briefly pop out of her shirt. Marlene did not seem to care at all, but she promptly tucked her flab back into her shorts after a sharp look from Claire.

“So where are we going, Oh Fearless Leader?” Marlene asked with more than a touch of ire.

Claire pointed down the street and gestured directionally as she explained the intended route. “I thought we’d go down to the end of the block then head up toward Main Street, go all the way through downtown, and then loop back to the dorm by going around the football and soccer fields,” she said.

Marlene blinked while trying to decipher Claire’s complex geography. “So…about how far is that?” she asked.

“Only about five miles,” Claire said trivially. “We should probably be back in less than an hour even if we go slow this time—”

“F-five miles!” Marlene stammered. “In one hour?! Jesus, are you trying to kill me?”

“Oh, shut up you big cry baby!” Claire scolded. “We’re only walking. Most people walk at least that far in a day, anyway. Now let’s get going!”

Claire started down the street, and Marlene followed sulkily at her heels.

“Five miles,” Marlene muttered hotly under her breath. “It’s a good thing I brought a snack.”

Marlene pulled out a package of Skittles that she had wedged impossibly into the waistband of her shorts. Claire watched as Marlene tore open the package and dumped the entire contents into her mouth at once. After she’d swallowed it all, she licked her lips with relish and patted the side of her belly contentedly before catching up to her exercise partner, who had already started without her.

“Can I ask what it was that inspired this sudden motivation to exercise, Lena?” Claire asked.

Marlene smiled and said, “It isn’t just this: I’m on my way to a whole regimen of self-improvement!”

“But doesn’t it defeat the purpose to be eating candy while you are trying to exercise?” Claire observed.

“Of course not!” Marlene waved off the criticism. “The whole point of walking with you is just to keep this monster in check,” she explained and smacked her ass demonstrably. “I read somewhere that just walking a lot can really tone up your butt and thighs without using too much energy.”

“Who would have thought?” Claire remarked sardonically.

“I know! So here I am, giving it my all today for a big payoff tomorrow!” With that, Marlene began taking big, theatrical steps, swinging her arms happily as she plodded heavily along.

Her strides were so large that Claire had to scurry to catch up with her. “Hold on a minute!” she warned. “You’re not used to this yet. Don’t tire yourself out too soon!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Marlene puffed, already red about the face, “I’ll be just fine! It’s only a little walk, after all.”

An hour and a half later, Marlene staggered into her room supported by Claire, who was trembling noticeably under Marlene’s sweaty bulk. Claire led her burden to her bed and mustered enough strength to throw Marlene in the general direction of the mattress. Marlene, tongue lolling out of her mouth and positively soaked through with sweat, managed to swing her thick legs up onto the bed sheets. Almost immediately, the cloth beneath her began to darken as her sweat poured off her body and into the mattress.

“Told you so,” Claire tut-tutted. Except for her forehead, Claire’s skin was bone dry, and she was only breathing heavily because of how difficult it had been to assist Marlene up the stairs to their room.

Marlene’s face was redder than her shirt, and it took her almost half a minute to catch enough breath to respond at all. “Sh…shut up!” she blurted lamely.

“That’s okay. You’ll do better tomorrow,” Claire smirked.

Marlene let out an exasperated groan and squirmed with dread atop her damp sheets. At the mere mention of more walking, Marlene’s empty stomach let out such a grumble that the bed shook beneath her.

“Need…chocolate!” Marlene moaned childishly. Her arms flailed over the edge of the bed, helplessly searching for a box of food that was not already empty.

Claire pulled off her shirt and walked to the bathroom for a shower, doing her best to ignore her exhausted roommate. She paused, though, on the threshold of the bathroom and in a humoresque act of compassion, she tossed a new box of snack cakes from Marlene’s desk to the gasping behemoth before she closed the door. The whole time she shook her head disapprovingly, but she also smiled clandestinely at Marlene’s cute antics.

Marlene caught the box deftly and tore it open fiendishly. She devoured six of the twelve cakes in the box before she even stopped to breathe. Before she moved onto her seventh, she lifted her shirt and jiggled her belly contentedly. She stopped for a moment to listen to the tell-tale sound of running water to assure her that Claire was safely preoccupied by bathing. With an air of secrecy, she withdrew a tightly folded, sweat dampened sheet of paper and unfurled it carefully. With a pen from her dresser, she placed a check mark next to the first item on her refined list and smiled. She was on her way!

“Number two: Big pants!” Marlene announced as she marched down the middle of the sun-streaked shopping corridor. She and Claire we two of only a handful of people at the mall in the early afternoon, so she had free reign to trot her bulk around in whatever fashion she pleased with her friend clumsily in tow. Every few steps the girls walked under a rectangular skylight that made Marlene’s eyes sparkle with studs of gold, and the sunbeams stained Claire’s coppery hair with streaks of fire.

“Number two what?” Claire asked disinterestedly. “We haven’t gone into a single store yet.”

Marlene stopped in her tracks and winced involuntarily. She hadn’t meant to let anything slip by letting her enthusiasm get the better of her, but with each passing day, her goals started to seem more and more like a fantastic game. She spun around on her heels, and everything but her butt and upper thighs sloshed heavily after her.

“I meant…eh…pants are the number two thing every girl needs,” she said, smiling a little too broadly.

“What’s number one?” Claire asked, walking past Marlene to get them both moving again. Marlene followed accordingly.

“Bras…duh,” she quipped.

Claire shook her head—she noted that her neck was starting to feel sore from how often she seemed to be doing that in Marlene’s company. “You’re weird,” she said, stopping in front of a store Marlene frequented.

“Besides,” she said, turning to Marlene, “why do you need bigger pants, Lena? I thought the whole point was to make your ass smaller.”

“It is, but the ones I have now don’t fit very well in the first place,” Marlene explained.

Claire certainly could not argue with that. Every day Marlene somehow managed to squeeze her bulging fat into a pair of pants easily two or three sizes too small. Her blubbery love handles mushroomed over the waist of her jeans even now, and they wobbled provocatively as she hopped blithely into the store in search of, as she had put it, “big pants.” One thing that Claire did not see, however, was any notable amount of jiggling from Marlene’s butt and thighs. The two of them had been walking together for several weeks, and it was really starting to show on Marlene. Granted, Claire had a strong suspicion that Marlene had not actually lost any weight for all the effort, but her ass seemed—dare she even think it?—smaller than it had been at the beginning of the month. It was still huge, but, Claire thought with pride, she would put money on the existence of a firm layer of muscle beneath all of that fat—muscle which she knew would all the more rapidly slim down Marlene’s bubble butt to a more manageable size.

Claire followed Marlene as she browsed through the stock, picking out pairs of this and that with a shrewd eye. She followed Marlene to the dressing rooms and waited patiently in the husband chair while the two of them conversed from opposite sides of the stall.

“Wow! I haven’t worn pants this loose around my waist in years!” Marlene marveled invisibly, squeezed daintily into her small changing closet. She thrust open the door with a bang, shocking the dozing Claire, and stuck her butt in the grimacing ginger’s face.

“Check it out: I think these actually make my butt look good!” Marlene beamed.

Marlene had lifted her shirt so Claire could see her waist line, and Claire had to admit that the tight legs of the as of yet un-purchased jeans hugged Marlene’s derriere rather alluringly. The acid washed denim smoothed out Marlene’s still chunky thighs, and the waist did not seem to pinch into Marlene’s fat sides at all. It seemed that slimming down her butt a little really had allowed Marlene to find better fitting pants.

“They sure do!” Claire whole-heartedly agreed, adding, “Now get your ass out of my face.”

“You really mean it?” Marlene asked. She was still unprepared to believe that she and her once despised enemy might finally be waving the same flag.

“Absolutely. If anything, it looks a lot smaller than it used to, and you’ve really earned it these last few weeks,” Claire reassured her twittering friend.

Marlene stopped listening after she heard “smaller.” The buzz word made her positively squeal with delight. She thanked Claire and dove back into the changing room to finish trying the armload of pants she had picked out from the racks. With the door locked, she lifted up her shirt even further and folded it securely over her boobs. She kicked off the well fitting pants and wedged her arms under her naked belly, cradling it lovingly. She squeezed it tight against her body and hugged it, then jiggled it so she could feel the waves pulsing all through her body. She noted with glee that there was no trace of an offensive red rash where these new pants touched her belly.

“You’re gonna get so big,” she whispered encouragingly. She could practically feel the added pounds already. Her prediction was already not far from the mark.

Minutes later, Marlene bustled out of the changing room and bought nearly every pair of pants she had tried—she even bought two pairs of several styles.

“Are you trying to replace your whole wardrobe or something?” Claire remarked.

“Yep!” Marlene grinned and plodded out of the store burdened with three heavy bags of pants.

“Suite yourself, Lena,” Claire shrugged. “But if you’re done, I need to go in search of that most elusive girl-need number one.”

“Sure thing,” puffed Marlene, “but can we pop over to the cafeteria first? I’m starving!” Her belly rumbled and squelched with emptiness loudly enough for Claire to hear over the growing mall bustle.



Continued in post #4
 

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