A bit more than 15...

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Jan 8, 2006
BBW, Food, Feeding, Explicit language

By Lardna

Megan Magro was a delicate little freshman whom attended chemistry class with me at University. She was excessively slender and fine boned, to the point where I often wondered how she had lived to 18 without shattering to pieces. When I watched her take notes in class, it was sometimes hard to tell where the pen ended and her arm began.

Now, like most of you reading this, I prefer a plump, juicy girl with curves upon curves, round, heavy breasts, a luscious rear, and flesh enough to survive a famine in Siberia. Most of my girlfriends had been curvacious, voluptuous, expansive. Unfortunately, they had also all worried about their weight. I could tell them a million times I thought they were gorgeous, but the idea was stuck in their heads: thin was beautiful, and along with primping before dates and wearing their nicest clothes, they'd immediately go on diets as soon as we became a couple. They said it was for me. They wouldn't listen to my pleading. They couldn't believe any man would want a fat cow for a girlfriend.

And so I arrived at University single. Fattening up a nice, thin girl had been a fantasy of mine for years, and looking at Megan made me lick my chops. She had potential, you see. Whenever I saw her, she was busy at schoolwork -- clearly not your pretty-girl anorexic type. Her inactivity earned her a soft gut, and she had nicely formed hips that begged for expansion. She had wide green eyes, cushiony lips, youthfully chubby cheeks, and a body that cried out, "Feed me!".

I answered the call.

It was hard to get ahold of her, but I finally managed to ask her out when, one day, her eyes had left her textbook for perhaps a total of 8 seconds. We decided on a diner after class. The one I selected made excellent chocolate cheesecake, and I planned to entice her with it after what was sure to be a light meal. I couldn't imagine her fitting so much as a whole sandwich inside her tiny frame.

"A double bacon swiss cheeseburger, please, with a large order of onion rings, and a chocolate milk shake. Well done, lots of pickle. Oh, and some mozarella sticks for an appetizer," she requested, all business. My jaw dropped open.

"Are you really going to eat all that?" I laughed.

"I haven't eaten all day", she said, and she looked it.

"I'd expect a skinny girl like you to have maybe half a salad with a bottle of water."

"Ugh. I hate salad", she said, wrinkling her nose. "That isn't a meal. I'd probably be enormous if I ate more regularly, but I'm always so worried about school that I barely have time to."

Megan enormous? My mouth watered at the thought.

"I usually eat stuff like this when I do manage to squeeze a meal in", she added. "I'd rather be happy and full than forcing down fat-free cardboard. Mom used to make sure I got my meals in, but since I've gone to University I've had nobody watching over me."

"You're in luck", I said. "I'm a culinary arts major, and I've always loved cooking for my girlfriends."

That was true -- and the source of many an argument over "ruining" their diets. I'd bake them cookies or whip up some soul food: tokens of my love. I'd get an earful of screaming in return.

"So you have other benefits besides being handsome?" she teased, grinning with those kissable lips.

'I have to warn you, though -- I don't skimp on the rich ingredients, so you might wind up a little plump..."

Her mozzarella sticks arrived, and she dug in eagerly.

"That sounds wonderful", she said, in between bites. "I hate being built like a 12 year old boy."

Before I even knew it, she was done.

"You really wouldn't mind getting fat?" I pressed her.

"No, not when you're as thin as I am. I think it would be fun anyway. And I'm always so hungry..."

She began looking around for the waiter to bring her cheeseburger. He took the hint and brought it out without much ado.

I laughed despite myself as I watched her devour the burger, onion rings, and shake before I was even halfway done with my order.

"Please tell me you have room for dessert", I said.

She nodded.

She polished off 4 slices of cheesecake and another milkshake. Her small, soft gut had swollen round and tight against her button down shirt. She resembled a boa constrictor who has freshly swallowed an antelope. I leaned over to kiss her, and she tasted as good as she looked.

The next day, after class, she was still a little swollen. I had baked her brownies the previous night, and when I gave her the box full of fattening goodies, she was ravenous. I watched with amusement and awe as the box swiftly disappeared into her slender body, swelling up her belly to its previous, after-dinner state.

"Still hungry?" I teased, stroking her stomach. "There's more where that came from."

"Actually, I'm stuffed", she admitted. "But I can make room if everything you make is that good."

"So you wouldn't mind dinner at my place tonight?" I asked

"Mind?! Oh, God no, not after those brownies!" she said. "You must be an excellent cook. I'd love to."

I couldn't imagine my luck! I began preparations as soon as I got in. Homemade garlic mashed potatoes, baked macaroni and cheese with real cheddar and bread crumbs sprinkled on top, chicken roasted in butter with onions, red potatoes, pepper, and salt. At the last moment, I decided to heat up a baugette so she could sop up all that gravy, and ran out to buy a tub of premium chocolate fudge icecream for dessert. I was going to oveload her with comfort food, hoping to make her eat even more than she had at the diner. If I'd done my job right, she'd make a real glutton of herself despite having all that brownie in her and yesterday's cheesecake weighing her down.

She arrived early, practically drooling from the wonderful smells wafting from my kitchen. The aroma must have been maddening after spending all semester only eating here and there. I walked her in, presented her with a little garlic bread I had made from a spare loaf, then put the finishing touches on my chicken. It was a meaty bird, raised free range at a local farm. I hoped to make Megan every bit as succulent and well-fed.

I brought in the bread, the butter, the macaroni, the mashed potatoes, and carved up the bird into meaty, buttery chunks. I heaped her plate high with mashed potatoes and roast chicken, and smothered both with rich gravy. A double heaping of macaroni and cheese, and it was good to go.

Megan devoured it like she was starving, which was no longer quite accurate. She still had a tummy bulge from that afternoon, and it quickly widened. By her third plate, she was forced to undo her pants to accomadate all that heavenly food. It sure looked delicious, but I didn't eat a crumb myself.

By her fourth plate, she had slowed down, but continued to eat with grim determination. There was still quite a lot of macaroni left, though the chicken was nearly gone, and the potatoes were merely scraps left at the bottom of their bowl. For fifths, she took the casserole dish of macaroni and tried to finish it off, but she could barely manage by herself.

"Good girl, clean your plate", I said, watching gleefully.

"I still want to eat", she finally sighed, leaning back under the weight of her enormously stretched stomach, "but I can't choke down another bite..."

I poured her an extra tall glass of whole milk, walked over, and patted her belly. Any semblance of softness had disappeared under my onslaught.

"Would it be better if I fed you?" I asked, massaging her rock-hard tummy.

"That feels so good..." she murmurred. "Don't stop. Maybe I'll find some more room. I haven't eaten so well since Thanksgiving last year..."

I kept massaging until she felt better, then began spoonfeeding her every last bite of macaroni and cheese left in the dish. Then I sopped up the last of the gravy with the last of the bread, and crammed her full until not a crumb was left. Finally, every scrap of chicken, picked clean, and the remanents of the mashed potatoes were scraped from the bowl to be crammed into her over packed stomach. Megan now resembled a snake which had swallowed a hippo. Her belly was enormous. She seemed to have tripled in size since yesterday.

"Some icecream?" I asked, grinning sadistically.

"That sounds delicious", she groaned, "but let me rest first."

She shifted in her seat, and her pants ripped a little along the side seams.

"You really are going to make me fat!" she laughed.

"You'd have to be average weight, first", I said, giving her cheek a pinch.

"I'll be so nice and curvy", she said. "With plump breasts and round hips..."

I could almost see it myself. "Go on..."

"You'll like me really fat!" she said. "You like chubby girls better, don't you?"

"I think they're adorable. But what I really like is fattening up a skinny girl", I said, kissing her neck. "I'd love to take such good care of her she can't help but eat herself into a butterball."

"I think I'd love that, too", she said.

I took that as my cue to begin forcefeeding her icecream. After downing half the tub, she could take no more, and fell asleep.

She woke up to the scent of frying bacon and cinammon french toast with cream cheese and strawberry jam. Still stuffed from last night, she salivated, and struggled to sit up. Then her face sank.

"I forgot to study yesterday!"

"Don't worry. Eat", I said, offering her a big plate loaded up with bacon, eggs, and french toast.

Her brow furrowed, but the food looked so tempting she gave in. The smell really whet her appetite, and she managed a plate and a half. I fed her the rest, massaging her belly and breasts all the while. Absolutely gorged, she fell asleep again, and didn't wake until an hour before class.

I had to help her out of the chair. She was so bloated she had to unbutton her shirt, revealing two small yet spherical and very perky breasts, along with a not-so-small and very spherical belly. The rest of her was still thin, but she looked positively pregnant. She held the lower part of belly, because it was so heavily laden with food it ached.

"Poor thing. Can't you take the day off?" I asked, hoping to gorge her up with the last of the icecream.

She shook her head. Well, there was always tonight for that...

I got one of my sweaters to cover her up, then drove her to class. She was quiet on the ride in, her eyes glazed from all that eating. She could barely stay awake for the lecture. After class I offered to make her dinner again, but she relunctantly demurred.

"Business before pleasure", she said, rubbing her overstretched gut.

I didn't see Megan again until after the weekend had ended. My disappointment was quickly mitigated by the, er, gains she had made. Already my hard work was paying off! She had thickened up all over, but most notably across the hips. When she saw me, she ran up and gave me a kiss and a hug.

"I'm sorry we didn't meet up", she said, "but I was so caught up studying--!"

Then she glanced around slyly, and placed my hand on her belly.

"Squeeze! It's gotten softer!" she said delightedly.

Indeed it had. I cursed myself for not having any baked treats on hand. We took a walk to the campus food hall, and shared a pizza: she ate all 8 slices, while I watched.

I spent the next week feeding her well, making sure she left every encounter with me comfortably full if not stuffed. She clearly adored every minute of it. Nothing I cooked was anything short of delicious to her. Days became weeks, and she was soon walking to every class with a permanently stuffed belly. After class we would go out, and I would feed her some more. While studying, I fed her cookies, candy bars, slices of pizza or cake, and often she would be so stuffed from my dinners she would simply have to sleep over. Upon awakening, I would make her hearty breakfasts, massaging her tummy in case she had eaten more than she could handle. Both of us were in paradise. Weeks became months, her appetite grew impressively, and she fattened up quickly into a chubby young woman.

First her hips widened, then the seat of her pants began to tighten up over her expanding butt. Her thighs thickened, rounded, grew stretch marks under the pressure of my food. Next her calves grew as thick as her waist once had been, while her belly's bulge softened into youthfully firm pudge. At first her hips had widened so much it was only a shallow potbelly, but as her hips slackened her butt and stomach picked up pace, swelled magnificently and counterbalanced each other. Her breasts were comparatively small, but she had gained so much weight they had actually gone up 3 cup sizes. Her arms thickened and dimpled, jiggling when she wrote, her cheeks plumped up like pillows, and she developed an adorable double chin or two.

Megan...slender, fine-boned Megan...was fat. She was so fat her thighs rubbed together when she walked, she waddled when she ran, and she could barely wiggle her fat-laden ass into the desks at school. Because of her small bone structure, she was extrordinarily soft, like a human plush toy. I loved spreading apart her lucious thighs as far as they could go, and devouring her plump little pussy, which had also blossomed wonderfully, like a ripened fruit, under my care. I couldn't believe this was the same skinny girl I had lusted over at the begining of the semester...where had these acres of flesh come from? These tidal waves of juicy curves? She was fat as a gavaged goose, forcefed to fat its liver. And every little calorie stored up in her overly well fed body was my creation. I had taken this slim little slip of a girl and made her into the Venus of Willendorf.

Of course, the semester came to an end eventually. Boy, were her parents in for a surprise at Christmas break!


Well-Known Member
Oct 25, 2005
absolutely amazing, perfect, exactly what I like to read in these stories. Definatley keep it up!


Well-Known Member
Sep 29, 2005
Yep, this was a nice one (except for the allusion to force-feeding geese to harvest their livers).

I wouldn't mind reading the next chapter...


Well-Known Member
Nov 20, 2005
the liver was a bit off. lol.
I loved the story, but I have to admit I prefer more detail to her body changes and for a bit less enthusiasm to show at the end. It felt like you were auctioning her off.

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