BOTH New Size for the Season - by Nemovolo (~BHM (multiple), FFA, ~BBW, Romance, ~MWG)

Dimensions Magazine

Help Support Dimensions Magazine:

NYC_FFA

Well-Known Member
Joined
Jan 6, 2010
Messages
182
Location
,
I'm joining in bumping this story. More chapters, please. :happy:
 

Tad

Dimensions' loiterer
Joined
Sep 29, 2005
Messages
13,608
Location
The great white north, eh?
My turn to bump again. Nemo, we aren't going to leave you alone you know, so you should just give in and start writing :p

(OK, totally understand if you don't have time, are stuck on the plot, etc....but I do hope you get back to this one eventually).
 

NemoVolo

Well-Known Member
Joined
Oct 26, 2008
Messages
62
Location
,
[Author's Note:] Hi, all. I just got done with finals, so I figured I would post this next bit. I have one more section fully written after this, and part of another started. I don't know when I'll get back to writing this story, as I kind of lost inspiration.

Part X (Avon)

The Season ended and Parliament was dismissed.

Avon was glad, because it meant Mr. Blackmoor was home all the time now. Well, not all the time, because he still went out with Mr. Rycroft. Yet, now she had more control over his meals. Not that she needed to.

She got a little overexcited and used half of each pack of powder before the first month was over. It was harder to stretch them out and make the powders last. She only added a pinch whenever he seemed to slow down again.

The change in Mr. Blackmoor was incredible.

When he was still consuming the rich food of others at the parties, he would come home so full his clothes were tearing at the sides. The next morning, he’d awaken with a growling, painfully empty stomach, despite the amount he consumed the night before still bloating his belly. He’d ravenously attack his breakfast, snack on sweets throughout the morning, and engorge himself on lunch. That evening, Avon would help him into ever-tightening clothes. The whole process would then repeat itself.

Most days Avon spent taking his wardrobe to the tailor’s to be taken out, or letting out what she could. The cook constantly made food and even called in a couple of his daughters to help him when Avon was busy elsewhere.

The highlight of her life came one evening in mid-October.

Mr. Blackmoor had continued to overindulge in food, despite her running out of the powders a month and a half before. She assumed it was from stretching his stomach so much that it now took much more food to satisfy his hunger.

Despite his rather sedentary life—he spent an awful lot of time sleeping off his huge meals—she hadn’t gotten to thoroughly enjoy his changes. Yet, after dining out for the evening with Mr. Rycroft and Lord Amberly, he returned home packed into his clothes. Not only that, but he was quite drunk and, from the way his eyes couldn’t focus, quite possibly drugged as well.

Finally she had the chance to linger with her gaze as he shed his frock coat. The top of his waistcoat ended well above his natural waist, allowing for the large, steep slope of his rounded belly to push out the front of his trousers, which were already tight from being stretched taut across his swollen hips and backside. Avon was in heaven.

“I mus’ tell you, laudanum is manfi—mangi—wonderful stuff, Avon,” he confided to her up in his bedchamber. “Vincent’s spot on ‘bout it.”

She nodded and agreed, entirely too focused on the way his rounded belly sat heavily on his lap. There were gaps between the buttons both on the vest and his shirt, exposing pale pink flesh to her.

With a soft sigh, Mr. Blackmoor peered around his bedroom in thought. “You know, I think I could do with some dessert. See if cookie left us some, will you?”

Blushing in excitement and awe—how could he think of eating when he was so stuffed?—she nodded as he began to absently rub the side of his middle. The stitching was straining where his love handles bloomed.

“Of course, sir, right away.”

Anna knew the effects of laudanum, and also knew that there was a supply among other remedies located in the kitchen. When she grabbed the tray of sweetbreads and pastries, she also grabbed a small pot of honey for dipping as well as the laudanum, which she poured into a small bowl. Everything loaded onto the tray, she carried it back upstairs.

By the time she got there, Mr. Blackmoor was groggily reclining against the ornately carved headboard. He smiled lazily at her.

“That looks delicious,” he praised her.

With a smile, she set the tray on the bed next to him. As he reached for the first treat and dipped it in the honey, she removed his shoes and stockings. He deserved to be comfortable.

“Let me do tha’ for ye,” she said softly, taking a piece and dipping it first into the laudanum and then the honey, before giving it to him.

“Ooh, mm…” He leaned back into the pillows, cloth creaking as buttons strained.

Avon felt a rush of heat throb between her legs at the sight of his belly sticking up straight out of the underside of his vest. It arched up and up, cresting a good distance from his body, before sloping steep back into his trousers. From her spot, she couldn’t see his groin, it overshadowed it. Not a single wrinkle or creased marred his clothing, either, as all extra material was stretched to its limits to keep him covered. He was beautiful.

And she told him so. “Ye’re gorgeous, sir.”

He just smiled sleepily and dipped a sweet in broth, before popping it into his mouth. Unable to help herself, and emboldened by the likelihood he wouldn’t remember anything the next day, she allowed herself to smooth a hand over the great ball of a belly. Despite how swollen it was, she could feel the layer of soft flesh on top. Biting her lip, she refrained digging her fingers into it and turned her attention to helping her rich employer finish off the tray of sweets.

With every bite, he sunk deeper into semi-conscious oblivion. He even slurringly called her Cynthia, the traitorous wench who left him. Avon wasn’t offended, no, because she was more than happy to focus on his body. Swollen like a tick, he only continued to grow and she could have sworn he was getting fatter before her eyes.

Suddenly, with a tear, two buttons on his vest burst off, allowing his gut to fall forward a little more. After that, with a couple more bites, another button. Then a fourth, a fifth. And the buttons on his overstressed shirt didn’t stand a chance either, four popping open almost simultaneously. An expanse of pale skin was exposed, covered in silver and red lines that marked the progress of his growing waistline.

“Mmn…” With a large groan, belly and chest expanding with air, the rest of the buttons lost their battle all the way up to the valley of his softening breasts.

The seams on his trousers were beginning to fray and a few small holes appeared along his hips and side.

“Oh-ooh…”

Yet still he continued to eat, mouth open after each swallow like a baby bird’s yearning for more. There were only a few pastries left, but Avon dutifully fed them to him. When they were gone, she sat back to observe the damage.

The large belly was swollen so huge and high it was almost grotesque. The hem of his pants dug tightly into the flesh, bisecting it into another large roll. She couldn’t even see the waistband, it was so deeply embedded.

Breathing shallowly, Mr. Blackmoor held onto his great belly as he tried to sit up. Even pushing his thighs wide apart to make room, the movement was too much. With a great snap, the waist of his trousers gave out. Surging into the unrestrained cloth, it created a mammoth of a belly. He belched loudly, before falling back on his pillows. The waistband slid down his belly, revealing even more evidence of his rapid weight gain.

Within minutes, he was sound asleep.

Avon sat there completely still for a while, staring in utter shock. He had just eating himself into destroying an outfit, and she helped him! Reaching out, she pushed her hand hard into his stomach, eliciting a groan from Mr. Blackmoor. Still, she kneaded, massaged, and rubbed her way around the huge middle. She traced those marks gently, fondly, and caressed his soft love handles.

Not big enough yet, Mr. Blackmoor, she thought with an excited grin. Not near big enough.

Carefully, she collected the bowls and tray, and retreated back downstairs. After cleaning up in the kitchen, she hurried off to bed. She couldn’t wait for the dreams to start.
 

atwolfe

Active Member
Joined
Jun 18, 2009
Messages
25
Location
,
WOW!!!! Your inspiration doesn't seem lost as this installment clearly shows a great continuance of the story :)
 

Undine

Jigglypuff!
Joined
Aug 20, 2007
Messages
340
Location
,
I'm going to bump this story because it's absolutely fantastic. I only wish there was more for me to enjoy. :wubu:
 

NemoVolo

Well-Known Member
Joined
Oct 26, 2008
Messages
62
Location
,
Hi all.

Unfortunately, due to many computer mishaps, I have lost what I had started for this story. Fortunately, what I do have, is mostly written down in notebooks. I just have to find those and type them up. But with senior year of undergrad, I'm not sure when I'll have time.

Just know this isn't a permanent hiatus.
 

NemoVolo

Well-Known Member
Joined
Oct 26, 2008
Messages
62
Location
,
[Author's Note:] I've decided to post this up, since I already had it written out and typed it up the other night. I've got the next two parts done, too, but I'm trying to space them out. It's hard, though, and comments will probably make me post faster. I'm a sucker for appreciation like that.

Part XI (Vincent)

As Christmas loomed, Vincent knew he was going to need help before the next Season started. His stomach was almost always full of food, despite his failing attempts to lose the gut he gained. As the months had passed, the hard ball melted into a soft tummy with matching love-handles. His ass had widened and all over, his body was covered in a thin insulation of fat. Gone was his athletic body, replaced by this one going to seed ridiculously easy.

He refused to spend the upcoming Season swollen like a tick, sleeping through the days only to get so drunk and drugged up at Prinny’s club that he didn’t have any memory of the amount of food he was consuming. If he was going to have a small social life outside the Whitehart, he needed a way to loosen up his stomach so he could eat without pain. Even small portions left him in agony now.

It was one afternoon while he was going through the stack of correspondence Daniel brought him that he found the answer.

On a beautifully written card, from a Lord Trevett, was a message:

To Lord Amberly, Duke of Derbyshire,

It has come to my attention you are in the same predicament that I, myself, was in a year ago. The overindulgent lifestyle of His Majesty is hard to adjust to as fast as his peerage is expected to. The older lords have been past their prime and don’t face the same societal problems we might.

The Prince Regent took pity on me and gave me the name of a brothel and the women he recommends. She works miracles, I swear.

Go to the address on the back of this card and ask for the girl called Cinnamon. Do not worry about discretion. The mistress of the home knows not to talk, and Cinnamon has a very limited clientele. Your identity will be safe.

Lord Trevett
Duke of Worcestershire

The Prince Regent had suggested to this man a prostitute to cure his indigestion? It was a little difficult to believe, but Vincent wasn’t naïve to the heir’s indulging in all sins of the flesh. Perhaps he should not have been so surprised.

Still, he was getting desperate enough to try anything. He sent a messenger ahead to inquire to when this Cinnamon would be available next. He felt bad for the poor lad, who was barely able to wheeze that she available that night. Vincent sent the boy to the kitchen and asked Daniel’s little brother to go inform them that he was to be expected.

Later that evening, after Vincent had heaved himself out of his carriage and awkwardly moved into the brother, he was startled by how inconspicuous it was. In a fairly nice neighbourhood, it had no advertising as to the nature of what went on inside. Like Whitehart, it was of a very private, elite nature.

A young boy showed him the way to Cinnamon’s room, without Vincent even opening his mouth. Bemused, he followed, only to find her room was on the first floor. Jacob, the boy, explained the first floor in its entirety was Cinnamon’s suite, and only the entryway and parlour were for public use. She was the one who made the most money and needed the room. Vincent, for his part, stayed silent and followed.

Jacob paused in front of a closed door and knocked.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Jacob. Your new gentleman is here.”

There were soft footsteps and the door open. “Please, do come in, my lord.”

Vincent stepped inside. The room was nicely furnished, the bed was gigantic and the posts all looked thicker than normal. Well, if Prinny is a regular visitor, it would have to be custom made and reinforced, he reasoned. He found the room agreeable, and turned to find the woman he came to see.

She was standing politely behind him, hands clasped in front of her with modesty. She was wearing little more than a chemise, however, under a very thin, light evening dress. In the cool room, he could see her nipples straining the material that her ample bosom filled out nicely.

Long hair that appeared a light auburn hung loose to her hips and her eyes sparkled with amusement and mischief. She was very fair, and also very beautiful. Tall, with long legs betrayed as such by the clinging skirt without any petticoat, her hips were curved enough and her waist small enough to not require any stays.

There was a playful lift to her lips when his eyes finally managed to focus on her face.

“I am—”

“Lord Vincent Amberly, Duke of Derbyshire,” she finished for him, voice husky and smooth as if she swallowed honey. “I’ve been expecting you, sire. Lord Trevett mentioned he might be… passing along his knowledge. He was not long ago in your position.”

On reflex of vanity, he tried uselessly to suck in his swollen middle. “What position would that be, precisely?” he asked, eyes narrowed slightly.

Moving slowly over to him with swaying hips, she reached out to gently slide her fingers across the expanse of his waist. “I’m sure you know,” she purred.

She sauntered away, over to where a full flask and two clean glasses waited on the desk.

“Sherry?” she asked, holding out a newly filled glass to him.

He accepted it and she motioned for him to sit down, which he did on the settee. She sat on the chair across from him with her own glass.

“Now, I’m not sure what Avery—that is, Lord Trevett, told you,” Cinnamon said with a soft sigh, “but it appears I have the reputation among the Prince’s friends of being able to hypnotize the body. If that were the case, I highly doubt I would be here. I do, however, have a certain knack for preparing a man’s body for the abuse our dear Prince inflicts on his closest friends.

Vincent glanced around and noticed, for the first time, how much of the room was covered in food, especially rich, fattening food. The door leading to the dining room was wide open and he could see the heavily laden table. It looked as if Cinnamon was expecting all of the Whitehart gentleman to come. When he looked at her once more, she was smirking faintly.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, feeling like a canary within reach of a hungry cat.

She took a sip of her sherry and hummed. “Well, the eating part isn’t your problem, is it? What is, then? Your remaining vanity?”

He couldn’t believe it. This whore had him blushing—him!—like a school boy, not the full-grown man he was. He shifted and nervously smoothed a hand over his front. Cinnamon’s eyes followed the movement as it arched over his gut.

“It… the pain. I took so much laudanum last Season to keep up, I was barely conscious. I can remember only a few days, and I don’t want it to be that way again,” he finally confessed, a little surprised by how easy it was. Maybe she really could hypnotize him.

Cinnamon frowned faintly, which did not mar her features at all. She got up, crossed the few steps over to him, and glided onto his lap. Her knowledgeable, practiced fingers began undoing his waistcoat.

“Hey, wait—” She hushed him with a gentle kiss.

“You poor thing,” she cooed, getting the vest undone and working on his shirt next while he shed the waistcoat. “You’re just not used to this at all, but don’t worry. I know exactly what you need.”

Once his shirt hung open, she slipped backwards and pulled him to his feet. He followed docilely as she led him to the bed, where he laid on his back. Cinnamon crawled up, pausing at about his knees, to untie his trousers.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Vincent demanded, grabbing wildly for her hands.

“Helping, of course,” she said slowly, patiently. “The Prince Regent trusts me, so I would think you would, too.”

He released her hands, but eyed her warily, which she ignored.

She hummed to herself and crawled up to straddle his hips. With soft hands, she gently began to slide them around the expanse of his stomach, massaging and rubbing.

“Ooh, mmm…” Vincent moaned, relaxing into the plush mattress as she worked magic.

It felt as if she was gently coaxing his body to stretch and loosen, to make more room for all the meals he had eaten. Any tension in his stomach started to fade; he let out a loud, long belch. Cinnamon just smiled and kept going.

There was no way for Vincent to keep track of time passing. His attention was solely on the sensations coming from wherever her hands touched. He did know that she didn’t stop at his stomach, but rubbed and kneaded his sides, back, thighs, and hips, too. It was paradise.

Until the growling of his stomach startled them both.

Cinnamon laughed and slid from him, giving his belly one last caress. “Go, eat. You’ll be doing this all night.”

That sounded absolutely splendid to him. As he got up, he reached to unfasten his trousers. He would need all the room he could get.

For the first in weeks, his stomach felt empty. And he was starving to fill it up again.
 

clockworklove

Well-Known Member
Joined
Dec 30, 2008
Messages
65
Location
,
An amazing update-- I've truly missed this wonderful story. I love that you have a full cast of really interesting characters (especially Avon and Pierce!) who's parts are all told so uniquely. I can't wait for more!
 

atwolfe

Active Member
Joined
Jun 18, 2009
Messages
25
Location
,
Oh! I was so happy to see more to this story! I can't wait for more :happy:
 

Latest posts

Top