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BBW My Chubby Valentine [feedism, weight gain, stuffing, fat chat]

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LJ Rock

Well-Known Member
Oct 4, 2005
A very short story in which two women talk about their relationships with the men in their lives, with food, and with their own bodies, as well as their desires to give into gluttony and let themselves get as big and fat as they want to.

My Chubby Valentine
by LJ Rock

“I think my boyfriend is trying to fatten me up,” Carrie said as she spoke to her cousin and dear friend Stephanie, who had stopped by her place for a visit. It was the middle of February, and the two of them were discussing what their respective significant others had done for or given them on Valentine’s Day.

“What makes you say that?” Stephanie asked.

“Well for starters,” said Carrie, “look at this huge box of chocolates he gave me for Valentines Day!”

Carrie held up an enormous heart-shaped box that was once filled with chocolate candies, but now was empty. “Yeah that is a pretty big box of chocolates,” her cousin agreed, “but one box isn’t going to make you get fat. Is it?”

“No, but a dozen of these will,” Carrie retorted.

“A dozen?”

“Yes! He actually bought me a dozen boxes of chocolates, and you know me. There’s no way I can have chocolate in the house and not eat it!”

“Yeah I hear you,” Stephanie concurred.

My Chubby Valentine (full color).jpg

The two young ladies had been hanging out in Carrie’s living room for most of the afternoon, sipping tea and conversing. It was a Saturday afternoon, the sun was shining but there was a chill in the air. Carrie was poised to go out on a date with her new boyfriend Elroy later in the evening, but for now she was happy to be catching up with her favorite cousin, as the two hadn’t seen one another in several weeks. Between work, school, and everything else the two of them had going on, they found it harder and harder to connect as time went on.

“Of course,” said Carrie, “all of that chocolate is in addition to the huge dinner that he made for me.”

“Girl, he cooks too?”

“He can chef it up something fierce!”

“Well what did he make?” Stephanie asked.

“More like what didn’t he make!” Carrie replied. “There was steak, lobster, shrimp, mashed potatoes dripping with melted butter. It was so good!”


“That’s not half of it!”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Yes!” Carrie said exuberantly. “He also made this amazing pasta dish with all kinds of red sauce and melted cheese. I was so stuffed already, but it was so delicious I couldn’t help myself and I ate the whole thing!”

“Oh my God, Carrie!” Stephanie exclaimed, looking both astounded and amused by what she was hearing.

“I know!” Carrie said. “I’m turning into such a pig, but what can I do? He is such an amazing cook and he always makes so much of everything! It’s impossible to resist.”

“Well it sounds amazing,” Stephanie said as she licked her lips, her mouth watering just thinking about all that Carrie was describing.

“Oh, I haven’t even told you about dessert yet,” Carrie said.

“He made dessert too?”

“Girl, let me tell you, he made this amazing multi-layered strawberry cheesecake with a sticky sweet strawberry sauce drizzled all over it, loaded up with a huge side of French vanilla ice cream. It was heavenly!”

“Let me guess,” said Stephanie, “you ate all of that too?”

“Did I ever!” confessed Carrie. “My belly was so big and stuffed, it looked like I was about to deliver sextuplets!”

“Gosh,” said Stephanie as she scratched her chin pensively, “I guess you’re right. It sounds like he really it trying to make you get fat.”

Carrie had always been on the heavier side, but after she turned twenty one the extra pounds really began to stack up. In one year she had gone from a svelte and voluptuous vixen, weighing in at a modest two hundred and ten pounds as she stood at five foot eight, to a whopping three hundred and twenty pounds. Her wide hips and plump rear end got wider and plumper, her legs were growing to be as thick as tree trunks, and her already very ample breasts had grown to the size of two large and over ripened watermelons. By far though the most dramatic change had occurred in her midsection, with her belly filling out and becoming rounder and rounder by the day.

“The crazy thing is,” Carrie said, “is that I don’t even mind. I kind of like the fact that I’m getting bigger and softer all over, and I just love the way he looks at me and touches my body. The feeling when we are making love, the way he fondles and caresses every part of me, the way all my new fat rolls wiggle and jiggle with every stroke — it’s amazing!”

“Okay, that’s a little TMI,” Stephanie replied with a wry grin, “but that does sound pretty hot.”

“And this is going to sound crazy,” Carrie continued to confess, as she was now on a roll and unable to contain herself any longer, “but I really love the fact that he is shaping me and molding me into something he wants me to be.”

“Really?” Stephanie asked, sounding a little skeptical. "Is that really what you want? To be molded?"

“I can’t explain it,” she said, “but something about the fact that I am getting fat just for him and no one else — it makes me feel so close to him.”

“Well how big are you going to let him make you?” Stephanie asked, sounding genuinely curious as much as she was concerned.

“I’m really not sure,” Carrie answered, “all I know is that the bigger I get the hungrier I seem to be. It takes so much more food now to make me feel satisfied. Sometimes it feels like I can just eat all day and I never get full. I could just stuff my face twenty four hours a day until I’m big as a house!”

“I know that feeling,” Stephanie related as she leaned back in her seat and looked up toward the ceiling, “some days when I know my husband Harold is going to be working late or going out on the road for business, I will still cook a full meal for the two of us — and then I’ll eat it all myself.”

“Isn’t that the best?” Carrie said with an impish giggle. "Sometimes when I do Chinese take out or something, I'll just order three or four whole meals and eat them all myself."

“Oh God,” Stephanie went on, “I get so stuffed that I feel like I might pop, and yet I still want more. Harold comes home and tells me I look like I’ve been gaining some weight, and I just play dumb like I have no idea why — it’s kind of my dirty little secret I guess.”

“We all have at least one. Don’t we?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Stephanie replied. “I wish my husband was as enthusiastic about my weight gain as your new boyfriend seems to be about yours. I would let myself go and get fat as a cow. That would be like a dream come true at this point.”

“Isn’t if funny,” said Carrie, “how afraid we were when we were younger of gaining weight and getting fat. Now look at us: a couple of ‘Chubby Valentines’.”

Carrie and Stephanie talked for a little while longer, until Carrie finally had to excuse herself so she could go get ready for her date with Elroy. “We’re going to a buffet for dinner,” Carrie said, “I’m going to try to break my record tonight.”

“You’re record?” Stephanie asked.

“The most I’ve been able to put away so far at a buffet is ten plates,” Carrie confessed as she rubbed her bulging belly sticking out in front of her, “but tonight I’m going to see if I can go for an even dozen!”

“Wow!” said Stephanie. “Well good luck, cousin, and Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Thank you,” Carrie said as she reached out and hugged her cousin and dear friend Stephanie, “and Happy Valentine’s Day to you as well!”

Carrie and Elroy went out that evening, and she managed to beat her record and surpass her goal of twelve plates, putting away a total of fifteen plates loaded up with everything under the sun. At the end of the night she was so stuffed that Elroy needed to help her out of her seat and keep her from falling over and rolling away as the two of them wobbled their way out of the restaurant and back to their car. It was a beautiful evening, one that both Carrie and Elroy would remember always.

Stephanie’s evening was not nearly as enchanted. She cooked a nice meal for two as she always did, but once again her husband Harold called to say that he’d be working late and wouldn’t be home until well after midnight. No mention of it being Valentine’s Day or anything.

Distraught as she was, Stephanie dug in and polished off every last bit of the dinner she had prepared. She stuffed herself until the pain in her stomach masked the pain in her heart. As she thought about the conversation she’d had with Carrie earlier that day, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she just let go and gave in to her glutinous desires.

“What would Harold say?” she thought to herself. “What would he think if I really let myself go and get as fat as Carrie is — or even fatter?”

Laying on the sofa, rubbing her distended belly, Stephanie mulled over this question in her mind until she drifted off to sleep. When she woke up the next morning, she came to the decision that she really didn’t give a damn what Harold thought anymore.

“I think I’m going to get fat,” she said aloud as she stared at herself in the mirror, “and I think I’m going to get a divorce.”

But that’s a story for another day.

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