billsfan248
Member
~BBW, ~SSBBW, ~MWG, Fantasy - Office worker meets vampire with particular tastes.
“We’re not all into health food. I’m an American vampire. Some of us have a sweet tooth. Refined as I am, I do enjoy junk food.”
“And I’m-”
“Why, you’re junk food, sweetie.” She saw Adeline’s face fall slightly, and continued quickly.
“Don’t let it get you down! My junk food has a lovely existence.”
“You’re going to eat me?” Adeline’s tone surprised her - less worried than idly curious. She asked whether Alexandria would eat her in the same way she might ask about the soup of the day.
Alexandria chuckled, a smooth, rumbling sound from deep within her immensity. Her voice was deep, slow, and quiet, like it was coming through several layers of fabric.
“Honey, you misunderstand. I’m not a cannibal. Filthy beasts, cannibals. Very messy and very unpleasant. No dignity, no class.” She shook her head in a mixture of pity and contempt.
“I’m a vampire. And you, you’re going to live here with me, a life of luxury. And, from time to time, I’m going to drink from you. Not blood, mind you. That’s just an old legend popularized by the pent-up Victorians. I drink something… less tangible. It is difficult to explain, but I promise, it won’t hurt you at all.”
“That’s…” Adeline could not finish her sentence. A warm calm had draped over her, making her tongue feel sluggish. On some level, she noticed that the woman’s words were troubling. Yet… they didn't’ feel troubling. They felt fine. Everything was fine. Some part of her brain demanded she run and find an exit. Leave, and sprint as far as her chubby legs would take her. She ignored it.
“I promise you you aren’t going to mind it a bit. Most of my girls come to love it. Speaking of… Becky!” Alexandria clapped her hands sharply.
Almost instantly, a blonde woman appeared in the doorway. The speed of her arrival was all the more impressive given her physique and attire: she weighed 300 pounds if she was an ounce, and was packed into a sleek black dress three sizes smaller than indecent. She listened intently as Alexandria explained that Adeline was new, and told her to help get Adeline settled. Becky smiled and took Adeline’s hand. “C’mon, new girl. Let’s get you settled.”
Following the woman, apparently called Becky, through a series of corridors, Adeline realized that she had vastly underestimated the size of this place. They walked through what seemed to be a maze, all of it sumptuously decorated with Rococo paintings and deep red vases and plush velvet curtains. By the time Becky turned the knob on an extremely wide oak door, Adeline was both wowed and completely disoriented. The room they entered was vast, at least twice as big as her studio apartment back home, and easily three times as beautiful. There was a masonry fireplace and a large raised hearth made of black granite flecked with silver. There was a wide, inviting chaise lounge and a huge bed draped in crimson blankets. Next to the bed was heavy oak stand; on top of it sat a large book, opened to an empty page. No, Adeline corrected herself, ‘book’ wasn’t grand enough for this object. It was a tome. Massive and old, with gilded pages yellow with age, and a little golden lock peeking around from the hidden cover.
Now that they had reached their destination, Becky suddenly looked distracted, and kept glancing at the door. “Whatever you want,” she said, “you just write it in the book. Oh, you’ll need this.” She reached into her generous cleavage and produced a small, black fountain pen. Adeline took it with some hesitation.
“And then?”
“And then you get it,” Becky said quickly, already waddling out the door. She moving quickly, quicker than Adeline would have thought she could, and her dress made a zipping sound as she swung her arms. Adeline watched the blonde’s ass churn back and forth as she disappeared through the door, exerting significant effort to move her bulk so quickly. From down the hallway, her voice faded, “Just write it down!”
Adeline was left alone in the room. When she came in, it had seemed cozy, despite the size and elegance, but without another person there, it seemed a bit cavernous. She rolled the pen around in her hand. It was still warm - from Becky’s chest? It seemed too hot for that. Like it was radiating heat. And it was far heavier than it should have been. She scratched at the black material with her nail, but could not figure out what it was made out of. It looked like opaque glass.
Her feet sinking into an ornate rug, she walked over to the bed. She sat tentatively on the mattress, which she quickly realized was beautifully soft. It was… wonderful. Involuntarily, she laid back on it, sinking in, her arms spreading out from her body to maximize the amount of surface area she had that could enjoy the bed. For once, her plump body was an asset - she had so much surface area to spread
The bed was like nothing she’d ever felt before. She once had a one night stand with a man who owned silk sheets - they were burlap compared to whatever the comforter was made of. It felt more like a liquid than a fabric. For a moment, she just lay there, luxuriating, more comfortable than she’d ever been in her life.
She wasn’t sure how long the moment lasted, but she eventually sat up, feeling remarkably refreshed. Had she fallen asleep? She didn’t think so. The pen, still in her hand, was just as warm. Warmer
This had been, without a doubt, the strangest day of her life. Sitting on the edge of the impossibly wonderful bed, she took stock of how she’d arrived here. After work, her resolve had cracked, and she’d decided to go to the chinese place near her office to treat herself. Had that really been just two hours ago? It felt like a whole different life. She squeezed the mattress gently, checking that it was still tangible. It was.
She’d been dieting and exercising for three months, and had managed to lose two pounds. At this rate, to get down to her ideal weight… she only needed ten years. Something about that fact - the realization that she had 80 pounds to lose, and would be 35 by the time she did, and that was if, if she was able to keep up her discipline… Giving up was so much easier. All the effort sweating on the treadmill, all the self denial of ordering kale salads, no, no dressing for me, thanks…and what did she get? Two pounds? The diet was over, and she knew that the place for a chubby girl who was no longer holding back was the buffet.
It was just after she got her third plate that the evening took a turn for the peculiar. She returned from the line of steam trays with a plate piled with a precarious stack of golden, deep-fried pork swimming in neon orange sweet-and-sour sauce. She plopped down, much to the dismay of the green plastic booth, and had her chopsticks poised to grab her first bite, when the waiter cleared his throat. He was a middle-aged chinese man, always polite but never friendly, but he was smiling sweetly at her now.
“Compliments of the lady over there,” he said, setting a tall glass in front of her. It looked like a milkshake. And this Chinese buffet, like most Chinese buffets, did not serve milkshakes. She looked at the glass, then up at the waiter, with that placid smile on his face.
“Compliments of who ?"
“The lady, over there,” he repeated, this time pointing at a table in the corner behind her. Craning her neck, Adeline still couldn’t get a good look. Torn between standing up to figure out who had bought her this drink, and asking the waiter when they started serving milkshakes, she surprised herself by taking a third path. She wrapped her lips delicately around the straw and took a long pull from the glass.
It was deliciously rich and chocolatey. Had the waiter stayed there, she would have complimented him on it, but he didn’t, and that was all for the best anyway, because she couldn’t bring herself to pause her drinking. She gulped, everything except the taste crowded out of her mind, until she was startled by the sharp bubbly sound that told her there was no more in the glass. Glancing down into it, Adeline saw only a few streaks of the dark red drink - she’d never had a red velvet milkshake before now - and did her best to gather those last bits up with her straw. Her stomach felt simultaneously cold and warm. She stifled a belch, closed her eyes, and let out a tremendous sigh of contentment. Her plate of fried pork sat dejected, rapidly cooling and completely forgotten.
“I take it you enjoyed it?”
Adeline opened a single eye, then realized that wasn’t going to be enough to handle the optical task before her. She opened both eyes and stared. Beside her booth was the largest woman… well, maybe the largest woman she had ever seen. Adeline was a chubby girl, verging on fat. She’d been to enough weight watcher meetings to have a pretty good understanding of all the different possible levels of fatness. And this woman put the fattest compulsive eaters Adeline could remember, the four-hundred pounders who showed up to meetings stinking of french fries, to shame.
She was dressed all in black. Black was slimming, Adeline mused - she herself was wearing a black skirt for that very reason - but there was only so much you could reasonably expect a colour to do. The woman was beyond the concept of slimming. Her sheer black evening gown probably had enough fabric to clothe four Adelines. A massive silvery belt wrapped around her middle, tasked with the impossible job of giving this enormous woman the illusion of a waist. Down below, peeking out from below the gown were a pair of bloated cankles, and peeking out from below those were a pair of glittering black pumps.
“Take your time, sweetheart. I know I’m an eyeful.”
Adeline reddened, embarrassed to have been staring at this stranger. She motioned slowly to the seat across from her, without thinking
“Mmm… nah, the booths aren’t really up to the job, I’m afraid.” The woman did not seem embarrassed, and perhaps because of that, Adeline’s embarrassment quickly faded. “Now don’t you worry a bit about it. I’m Alexandria."
“Adeline,” she said.
“Well Miss Adeline, it’s lovely to meet you. I saw you enjoying your dinner from across the restaurant, and thought, there’s a girl who appreciates life. I’d like to talk to her. So I ordered you a little something the chef makes for me here, off-menu. But I can’t stand here forever. Would you like to come with me?"
Adeline assumed she meant “over to a table with chairs.” By the time she was walking out the restaurant door, she realized that wasn’t what Alexandria meant. Adeline looked back at the buffet - inside, the waiter was still waving at her, a vacant grin on his face, even though she hadn’t paid her bill.
She followed Alexandria into the chilly night. The fact that the woman she could walk at all was impressive, but beyond just walking she seemed almost light on her feet. She wobbled as she walked, but she didn’t appear ponderous. Her gait was more of a slow shimmy than a lumber. Her whole body sloshed back and forth, with each step, slowly wobbling side to side like a… like a… milkshake.
Adeline jolted awake. She was momentarily disoriented, before remembering where she was. Had she fallen asleep again? Her stomach rumbled. More than anything, she wanted another one of those milkshakes. The pen was still in her hand. Idly, she stared at it. “Whatever you want,” Becky had said, “Write it down in the book.”
Nobody was watching, and stranger things had already happened tonight. Adeline sat up and reached out. The moment she touched the book, her fingers tingled. At the top of the page, in very small letters, she wrote “red velvet milkshake.” The ink that flowed from the pen was smooth and slightly glossy.
And then, as if by magic (no, she realized, just “by magic”) a table appeared next to the book stand. Thick mahogany legs supported an even thicker tabletop, on which sat what she hoped was an equally thick milkshake. She reached out and considered the beautiful crystal goblet, its surface frosted. One experimental sip became one long drawn out gulp. After draining it, she felt replete. Wonderful. More than full, she felt whole. Reaching out again, her fingers closed around the pen. Under her tiny order from moments ago, she scrawled “another.”
Sweet Tooth
by Billsfan248
by Billsfan248
“We’re not all into health food. I’m an American vampire. Some of us have a sweet tooth. Refined as I am, I do enjoy junk food.”
“And I’m-”
“Why, you’re junk food, sweetie.” She saw Adeline’s face fall slightly, and continued quickly.
“Don’t let it get you down! My junk food has a lovely existence.”
“You’re going to eat me?” Adeline’s tone surprised her - less worried than idly curious. She asked whether Alexandria would eat her in the same way she might ask about the soup of the day.
Alexandria chuckled, a smooth, rumbling sound from deep within her immensity. Her voice was deep, slow, and quiet, like it was coming through several layers of fabric.
“Honey, you misunderstand. I’m not a cannibal. Filthy beasts, cannibals. Very messy and very unpleasant. No dignity, no class.” She shook her head in a mixture of pity and contempt.
“I’m a vampire. And you, you’re going to live here with me, a life of luxury. And, from time to time, I’m going to drink from you. Not blood, mind you. That’s just an old legend popularized by the pent-up Victorians. I drink something… less tangible. It is difficult to explain, but I promise, it won’t hurt you at all.”
“That’s…” Adeline could not finish her sentence. A warm calm had draped over her, making her tongue feel sluggish. On some level, she noticed that the woman’s words were troubling. Yet… they didn't’ feel troubling. They felt fine. Everything was fine. Some part of her brain demanded she run and find an exit. Leave, and sprint as far as her chubby legs would take her. She ignored it.
“I promise you you aren’t going to mind it a bit. Most of my girls come to love it. Speaking of… Becky!” Alexandria clapped her hands sharply.
Almost instantly, a blonde woman appeared in the doorway. The speed of her arrival was all the more impressive given her physique and attire: she weighed 300 pounds if she was an ounce, and was packed into a sleek black dress three sizes smaller than indecent. She listened intently as Alexandria explained that Adeline was new, and told her to help get Adeline settled. Becky smiled and took Adeline’s hand. “C’mon, new girl. Let’s get you settled.”
Following the woman, apparently called Becky, through a series of corridors, Adeline realized that she had vastly underestimated the size of this place. They walked through what seemed to be a maze, all of it sumptuously decorated with Rococo paintings and deep red vases and plush velvet curtains. By the time Becky turned the knob on an extremely wide oak door, Adeline was both wowed and completely disoriented. The room they entered was vast, at least twice as big as her studio apartment back home, and easily three times as beautiful. There was a masonry fireplace and a large raised hearth made of black granite flecked with silver. There was a wide, inviting chaise lounge and a huge bed draped in crimson blankets. Next to the bed was heavy oak stand; on top of it sat a large book, opened to an empty page. No, Adeline corrected herself, ‘book’ wasn’t grand enough for this object. It was a tome. Massive and old, with gilded pages yellow with age, and a little golden lock peeking around from the hidden cover.
Now that they had reached their destination, Becky suddenly looked distracted, and kept glancing at the door. “Whatever you want,” she said, “you just write it in the book. Oh, you’ll need this.” She reached into her generous cleavage and produced a small, black fountain pen. Adeline took it with some hesitation.
“And then?”
“And then you get it,” Becky said quickly, already waddling out the door. She moving quickly, quicker than Adeline would have thought she could, and her dress made a zipping sound as she swung her arms. Adeline watched the blonde’s ass churn back and forth as she disappeared through the door, exerting significant effort to move her bulk so quickly. From down the hallway, her voice faded, “Just write it down!”
Adeline was left alone in the room. When she came in, it had seemed cozy, despite the size and elegance, but without another person there, it seemed a bit cavernous. She rolled the pen around in her hand. It was still warm - from Becky’s chest? It seemed too hot for that. Like it was radiating heat. And it was far heavier than it should have been. She scratched at the black material with her nail, but could not figure out what it was made out of. It looked like opaque glass.
Her feet sinking into an ornate rug, she walked over to the bed. She sat tentatively on the mattress, which she quickly realized was beautifully soft. It was… wonderful. Involuntarily, she laid back on it, sinking in, her arms spreading out from her body to maximize the amount of surface area she had that could enjoy the bed. For once, her plump body was an asset - she had so much surface area to spread
The bed was like nothing she’d ever felt before. She once had a one night stand with a man who owned silk sheets - they were burlap compared to whatever the comforter was made of. It felt more like a liquid than a fabric. For a moment, she just lay there, luxuriating, more comfortable than she’d ever been in her life.
She wasn’t sure how long the moment lasted, but she eventually sat up, feeling remarkably refreshed. Had she fallen asleep? She didn’t think so. The pen, still in her hand, was just as warm. Warmer
This had been, without a doubt, the strangest day of her life. Sitting on the edge of the impossibly wonderful bed, she took stock of how she’d arrived here. After work, her resolve had cracked, and she’d decided to go to the chinese place near her office to treat herself. Had that really been just two hours ago? It felt like a whole different life. She squeezed the mattress gently, checking that it was still tangible. It was.
She’d been dieting and exercising for three months, and had managed to lose two pounds. At this rate, to get down to her ideal weight… she only needed ten years. Something about that fact - the realization that she had 80 pounds to lose, and would be 35 by the time she did, and that was if, if she was able to keep up her discipline… Giving up was so much easier. All the effort sweating on the treadmill, all the self denial of ordering kale salads, no, no dressing for me, thanks…and what did she get? Two pounds? The diet was over, and she knew that the place for a chubby girl who was no longer holding back was the buffet.
It was just after she got her third plate that the evening took a turn for the peculiar. She returned from the line of steam trays with a plate piled with a precarious stack of golden, deep-fried pork swimming in neon orange sweet-and-sour sauce. She plopped down, much to the dismay of the green plastic booth, and had her chopsticks poised to grab her first bite, when the waiter cleared his throat. He was a middle-aged chinese man, always polite but never friendly, but he was smiling sweetly at her now.
“Compliments of the lady over there,” he said, setting a tall glass in front of her. It looked like a milkshake. And this Chinese buffet, like most Chinese buffets, did not serve milkshakes. She looked at the glass, then up at the waiter, with that placid smile on his face.
“Compliments of who ?"
“The lady, over there,” he repeated, this time pointing at a table in the corner behind her. Craning her neck, Adeline still couldn’t get a good look. Torn between standing up to figure out who had bought her this drink, and asking the waiter when they started serving milkshakes, she surprised herself by taking a third path. She wrapped her lips delicately around the straw and took a long pull from the glass.
It was deliciously rich and chocolatey. Had the waiter stayed there, she would have complimented him on it, but he didn’t, and that was all for the best anyway, because she couldn’t bring herself to pause her drinking. She gulped, everything except the taste crowded out of her mind, until she was startled by the sharp bubbly sound that told her there was no more in the glass. Glancing down into it, Adeline saw only a few streaks of the dark red drink - she’d never had a red velvet milkshake before now - and did her best to gather those last bits up with her straw. Her stomach felt simultaneously cold and warm. She stifled a belch, closed her eyes, and let out a tremendous sigh of contentment. Her plate of fried pork sat dejected, rapidly cooling and completely forgotten.
“I take it you enjoyed it?”
Adeline opened a single eye, then realized that wasn’t going to be enough to handle the optical task before her. She opened both eyes and stared. Beside her booth was the largest woman… well, maybe the largest woman she had ever seen. Adeline was a chubby girl, verging on fat. She’d been to enough weight watcher meetings to have a pretty good understanding of all the different possible levels of fatness. And this woman put the fattest compulsive eaters Adeline could remember, the four-hundred pounders who showed up to meetings stinking of french fries, to shame.
She was dressed all in black. Black was slimming, Adeline mused - she herself was wearing a black skirt for that very reason - but there was only so much you could reasonably expect a colour to do. The woman was beyond the concept of slimming. Her sheer black evening gown probably had enough fabric to clothe four Adelines. A massive silvery belt wrapped around her middle, tasked with the impossible job of giving this enormous woman the illusion of a waist. Down below, peeking out from below the gown were a pair of bloated cankles, and peeking out from below those were a pair of glittering black pumps.
“Take your time, sweetheart. I know I’m an eyeful.”
Adeline reddened, embarrassed to have been staring at this stranger. She motioned slowly to the seat across from her, without thinking
“Mmm… nah, the booths aren’t really up to the job, I’m afraid.” The woman did not seem embarrassed, and perhaps because of that, Adeline’s embarrassment quickly faded. “Now don’t you worry a bit about it. I’m Alexandria."
“Adeline,” she said.
“Well Miss Adeline, it’s lovely to meet you. I saw you enjoying your dinner from across the restaurant, and thought, there’s a girl who appreciates life. I’d like to talk to her. So I ordered you a little something the chef makes for me here, off-menu. But I can’t stand here forever. Would you like to come with me?"
Adeline assumed she meant “over to a table with chairs.” By the time she was walking out the restaurant door, she realized that wasn’t what Alexandria meant. Adeline looked back at the buffet - inside, the waiter was still waving at her, a vacant grin on his face, even though she hadn’t paid her bill.
She followed Alexandria into the chilly night. The fact that the woman she could walk at all was impressive, but beyond just walking she seemed almost light on her feet. She wobbled as she walked, but she didn’t appear ponderous. Her gait was more of a slow shimmy than a lumber. Her whole body sloshed back and forth, with each step, slowly wobbling side to side like a… like a… milkshake.
Adeline jolted awake. She was momentarily disoriented, before remembering where she was. Had she fallen asleep again? Her stomach rumbled. More than anything, she wanted another one of those milkshakes. The pen was still in her hand. Idly, she stared at it. “Whatever you want,” Becky had said, “Write it down in the book.”
Nobody was watching, and stranger things had already happened tonight. Adeline sat up and reached out. The moment she touched the book, her fingers tingled. At the top of the page, in very small letters, she wrote “red velvet milkshake.” The ink that flowed from the pen was smooth and slightly glossy.
And then, as if by magic (no, she realized, just “by magic”) a table appeared next to the book stand. Thick mahogany legs supported an even thicker tabletop, on which sat what she hoped was an equally thick milkshake. She reached out and considered the beautiful crystal goblet, its surface frosted. One experimental sip became one long drawn out gulp. After draining it, she felt replete. Wonderful. More than full, she felt whole. Reaching out again, her fingers closed around the pen. Under her tiny order from moments ago, she scrawled “another.”
