BBW The Apple (Figure) of his Eye (~XWG, SSBBW)

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Part 1;

(Contains magical XWG, BBW, SSBBW, light feeding)


Amelia found that navigating the Isle of Wight was much greater a tribulation than she had previously hoped for. Though her online investigating came bearing fruits, it did come with the prerequisite that if she were to try using Google Maps or a satnav, she'd end up more likely to circle the island. Sadly, the solution of a map scan from 40 years ago wore its age like milk.


After several wrong turns, mistaking creases and markings as alternate paths that led to nowhere, she eventually found herself where she believed was her destination. To double-check, she reassured herself with the grainy guide once more, noticing the picture attached of the shop she was looking for. Holding up the map side-by-side to a quaint and antiquated shop granted Amelia her wish; this was the place.


Charming, much like most of the Isle of Wight's vendors, her entrance into the store was introduced by a wind chime ringing out a tranquil melody. The inside of the shop was described to her as a pastel affair, with vinyl decor and other musical knick-knacks enveloping the shelves of the shop. Though the palette of the walls was more muted over time, there was no mistaking that she was where she needed to be. The last piece of confirmation soon made it's introduction, as an elderly lady, slightly plump and with a light curve to her posture, hobbled through windbreakers to the main front of the store.


'Hello dear! Fancy seeing a customer this early in the day, eh?' the older woman quipped, taking the barrenness of her shop in stride. 'Anything in particular you're looking for, love?'

Amelia went to respond, albeit she hesitated just before she could eke out a reply. She vividly revised the phrase from her source 'ONLY RESPOND WITH THE CODE' on her journey to the South of England, though her manners almost got the better of her. Instead of the intended 'no thank you, I'm just looking around,' she alternately went with 'Auxillum postulo.'


Once Amelia managed to whisper the sentence out, the once genial shopkeep changed her demeanour with haste 'Ah, thank God. I hate having to play that facade.' she grumbled. A back stretch fixed her posture and the charming innocence was now replaced with a jarring bluntness. 'Come, this way.'


Though Amelia was admittedly taken aback and even frightened to some extent, it did fill her with a modicum of satisfaction. She was right where she needed to be.
 
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Part 2;

Though the front of the shop was as archetypally Isle of Wight as everything else she'd seen so far, outback couldn't have been any different; worn paint was replaced with cold-looking concrete and the characterful knick-knacks were nowhere to be seen. Instead, ambiguous elixirs, concoctions and other bizarre mixtures were commonplace, combined with hundreds of papers within decrepit bookshelves. As Amelia inspected her environments, wondering if perhaps she was in over her head, the elderly woman interrupted her attention with a cough.

'This is far more my element' she mischievously chuckled. 'Now then, what's your problem?'

Slightly embarrassed, Amelia looked away before responding 'Well, my husband doesn't -'

'Gah! It's always a boy, isn't it?' the lady rudely tutted. 'Let me guess, not much is happening in the bedroom?'

The younger woman was shocked by the boldness, only able to concede with an ashamed nod. 'Not to worry, I've solved hundreds in my lifetime, and you won't be the last'. The woman turned away from Amelia, picked out a dusty yellow folder, and tore out a form. She gave it to her with a pen and let her know what she had to do. 'While I might be an admitted witch, I'm not a magician or genius - you fill this out and I'll find the recipe for your problem' she told Amelia, giving her a small smile.

Amelia showed her graciousness, relieved at the optimism from her superior, and began filling it out.

-

The problems Amelia found herself in now weren't present at the beginning with Lawrence. The two were on-again-off-again through high school, but following graduation, an impassionate declaration of Lawrence's love for her enamoured Amelia. In the following 7 years, both stayed true to one another, enjoying a happy and healthy relationship for a majority of that time and even getting engaged 2 years ago; but, in the past year or so, things have started to decline.

Neither doesn't love one another anymore, but for whatever reason, a bedroom that was often impassionate is currently on life support. Both partners struggle when they face an issue of chagrin, but typically the other can remedy their problem and before long it's fixed.

Unfortunately for both, when it's an issue that perplexes the two of them, neither feel particularly comfortable or confident addressing it. As such, it's almost as if the two dissonate their nights from their lives anymore. At worst cases, one of them can be more relieved the other falls asleep watching television downstairs so they don't have to share a bed with what feels like a stranger for a night.

Amelia desperately has tried to find a way to solve this; occasional advice from friends, couples' forums to get a second opinion from a similar background and even contemplating a couple's therapy. Sadly, none of these went anywhere. Lawrence, while a caring and loving partner, seemed too distant and too far gone to properly address one-to-one without her feeling mortified.

She didn't want to give up, searching the internet far and wide for any solution. Until one day, a mysterious message hit her private email inbox: 'I can help you'.

An outlandish story of witchcraft solving a couple's plight, leading to a greater love life than they'd ever had, was something Amelia scoffed at almost immediately. A link to the messenger, however, with Amelia jokingly asking for more information, suddenly set off a phone notification. It was her PayPal account.

She'd received £200 from someone anonymous to her email, though her title was that of the email address which she received. Even when she rejected it, the money came back, this time £400 and a message 'I promise.' Accepting the transaction didn't lead to a back charge, and there she had it. Nearly a week's wage in a moment.

The mysterious messenger was imperative that she try it out, using the money given to her to find her solution. Following this was the map and explanation of where Amelia needed to go; from Manchester, south to the Isle of Wight, to find a witch.

It wasn't something she'd anticipate herself to do, but she could easily masquerade her trip as a small holiday with the girls on the weekend. Hell, it gets her away from the emptiness she felt at home then too, and maybe there might be something that works.


-

The form she had to fill in was very concise, almost like she was about to undertake a drastic medical exam; blood type, any history of illness, prescriptions if any, existing medical conditions. The works. The only thing that differed, however, was a medical check from now and from 5 years ago, asking for anything drastic that changed. Apart from a comfortable bit of weight loss and some changes in hair colour, little else was different really since the two had known each other.

Upon turning over, it seemed much more catered to her current dilemma.
Ticking boxes related to a dead bedroom and a loveless love life seemed to be a common issue according to how prevalent they were as options on this quiz; maybe this would be the one that could help her? She sincerely hoped at this point, as she was at her last resort.

Amelia swiftly handed the form back to the witch, armed with a derelict coding book and magnifying glass. Soon, the mythical woman was able to get to work, combining a few...ambiguous elements in a small cauldron. Amelia's curiosity peaked a bit, though stepping towards the witch was met with a stern glare. She'd better just wait it out.

A light flash exploded from in front of the witch, scaring Amelia, yet left the former satisfied with her work. Grabbing a ladle and funnel, she turned to the younger woman and asked her 'Grab one of the figures from the shelf behind the register, please. They're hollow and can carry drinks. A larger one too.'

Amelia quickly ran back to the front of the shop, taking a Cass Elliot figurine and handing it to the witch. A quick fumble with her hands, and it was finally ready. The witch handed it back to Amelia, with a paper instruction. 'Read this when you're ready to use it. It's called Adiposion. Payment is £250.'

Amelia complied, handing the woman some crisp fifties, and headed to leave the shop. Before heading out, she turned back to say goodbye to the bold yet helpful woman, only to be met by the familiar and warming granny cheerfully waving her off. The melody of the wind chimes echoed through the shop, as Amelia exited, truly satisfied.
 
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Part 3;

Despite their recent struggles, Lawrence hated coming back to an empty house without Amelia home - her loving and caring aura filled the home with a warmness that couldn't be matched. That said, with her heading off for a weekend trip with her friends to the Isle of Wight, there was something in the back of Lawrence's mind he was greatly looking forward to.

It was safe to say Lawrence was a fat admirer; if anything, it was an understatement. He knew since he was 14 that there was something so delicious to him about a portly lady, with greatly exaggerated features to skinnier counterparts. The first time he saw a full-fat belly on a 400lb beauty, a collection of rolls stacked beautifully on top of one another, he was in awe.

This initial belly spiralled into further searches of other great proportions; massive tits, an extra-large shelf of an ass, pillows for arms, thighs no gap could seep through and even thicker and rounder feet did crazy kinds of things to him. Nothing could beat a good belly though, and that was something Lawrence shallowly appreciated about Amelia.

She'd always been chubby back in high school, something Lawrence greatly admired as a pubescent teenager, but while neither knew if they were going to become something more at the time, Lawrence wanted to make a pact to her.

Upon the two relaxing in the open Summer, Amelia made a modest remark about her figure, expecting nothing as a response. While Lawrence was secretive about his weighty endeavours, however, he took umbrage to this comment; he turned towards Amelia.

'There isn't a better version of you, Amelia. You look amazing the way you are, and I won't ever take it any other way. Everyone has their off days, sure, but I wouldn't look at you and think you're as beautiful as you are if you thought that way about you. And for as long as I'm with you, I'll never let you forget that.'

The chubby teenager was taken aback by the message filled with heart, but a single tear left her face as she practically suffocated Lawrence with a hug as mighty she could give. Both knew how much each other meant to them.

Lawrence's love for Amelia and his tastes only seemed to ripen with age. By the time he got on one knee at 21, receiving a joyous yes from his partner, he felt on top of the world. He was insanely happy, and his partner couldn't really have been much better for his type.

Through puberty, Lawrence glowed up, with a broadening of the shoulders, decently toned muscle retention and overall athletic physique, at 5'9". This greatly contrasted (to his enjoyment) with Amelia; while Lawrence was pale, with brown hair, blue eyes and 172lbs, his counterpart was a 220lb buxom woman. Long and dark brown hair, an olive complexion and brown eyes were met with a cute double chin for Amelia's face. Her body told a similar story, with ample breasts, a striking butt and, most attentively to Lawrence, a large stomach, bulbous and prone to jiggling.

He was living the good life, right up until a year or so ago - he assured Amelia she was as beautiful as he found her, yet his mind could tell that he wouldn't mind a little more of Amelia. Like, doubly so.

While he tried to hold himself in moments of intimacy, sometimes he couldn't refrain a sizeable squeeze of his partner's love handles, or, if he struck lucky, a hand to be absorbed by the softness of Amelia's belly, taking his ecstasy to another level.

This is where the two met at a misunderstanding; Amelia misconstrued Lawrence's affinity for fat as potential digs for her gaining weight since their time together. Unbeknownst to her, it was something her partner was all for. Yet, she had decided she had put on a little extra, and wanted to do something about it.

Eventually, dieting was brought up; Lawrence, though as encouraging as the best of boyfriends, was internally crushed. Had he not been sweet enough? He hoped to try and dissuade her, but his fat admiration had been a secret for nearly a decade. He couldn't muster the courage to let it slip, even to someone he trusted more than life itself.

From there, the snowball started to gain momentum; not only was Amelia's diet rather limiting and boring, withdrawing the fun and flavourful food from her life, but it left her emptier than she was usually. Her transition to an unhappier lifestyle didn't go unnoticed, and the bedroom, once a point of fun for both, began to drop off. Every night became most nights a week, to once a week, to a rare occurrence, as her weight plummeted from 220lbs to 135lbs.

Small attempts to spice up their life often fell flat, with the most success coming in Amelia dying her hair to a platinum blonde. Sure, it did seems striking, but the brief window of enjoyment didn't have much longevity.

Lawrence hoped to communicate with Amelia, but he couldn't ever seem to get it right. Thankfully, he was happy they were still together and she would be able to enjoy her weekend doing something else for once. It gave himself some time for his interests in privacy.

Though Amelia was gone from Friday Evening until Sunday Evening, that timespan let Lawrence explore himself again. It was safe to say, especially with the lack of action in the bedroom, his lust had only been repressed for later, and a 2-day binge of bellies, butts, and bigger women left him to his devices.

That said, by the time Sunday afternoon hit, Lawrence had concluded that he desperately needed to make an effort to sort this situation out. He wasn't sure exactly how he'd tell Amelia, but after having this time to himself to realise how much he missed his gorgeously plump partner, he knew that it wasn't fair for either to suffer this way.

No matter what, by the end of Sunday, he wanted Amelia to know his true feelings.
 
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Part 4;

Amelia's arrival back home was as warm as Lawrence wanted it to be for her; though she needed the time away, absence did make the heart grow fonder. 'Welcome home, love.' he said, kissing her on the cheek.

'Oh, babe, you didn't have to do all this!' she replied, kissing back. The fat admirer had decorated the house to his partner's liking, lighting her favourite candles with soft jazz music in the background. A wonderful scent also didn't go unmissed 'Awe, chicken parmesan! You're a treat' she lovingly said to her fiance.

'Well, I figured you'd be homesick a little. I wanted to make sure you came home to everything being as perfect as it could be for my lovely wife-to-be' he cooed. She smiled, her body filled with a warm sensation and quickly took off her shoes.

'It's a good thing I'm hungry. You timed it well, mister!'

'Ahh, call it a partner's intuition. I'll serve up your dinner, just give me a second.' Lawrence headed towards their kitchen, as Amelia tied her dyed blonde hair up - it's action time.

-

A holiday is an ever-interesting point of discussion, but as neither Amelia nor Lawrence wanted to give away their actual weekends spent, they ended up with some solid alibis - a decent girls-night-out and a busy work-focused weekend respectively. Sure, some might be more privy, but as both had something to hide, neither was keen to push the other for details. They just enjoyed the delicious home-cooked meal.

'Give my compliments to the chef' Amelia joked with a wink.

'Heh, I've gotten pretty good at it, haven't I? Wait until you see what I've got for dessert.' Lawrence confidently replied, to her bemusement. He went and grabbed an extra-large box of 100 Belgian truffles - Amelia's favourites - hoping that this could be an easier way to butter her up to his revelation later.

Yet, Amelia didn't play into his hand for now. 'Oh, babe! You didn't have to. I ate a lot! If anything I got us a cute little treat to share.' She quickly grabbed her bag, fumbling through her phone momentarily, until she pulled out a heart-shaped lollipop.

'I saw how cute this was, and was curious as it doesn't say anything about the flavour, so I'm wondering how it tastes for each of us. It's designed for both of you to lick at the same time!'

'O-Oh! Okay!' Lawrence struggled to stifle his disappointment; she was still trying to calorie count. Nonetheless, he smiled through and let her take off the plastic wrapping. It was pink and blue, depending on whichever side you went for, with a distinct 'Him' and 'Her' written in icing.

Both went in to give it a smell, before a shy lick from both. Lawrence didn't know what to make of it - what did it taste like, ash? Nonetheless, he didn't want to say anything to upset the mood, so he kept licking. 'How's your side babe?' she questioned him.

'Uhh, kinda cool. What about yo-?'

Before his response, a ringing went off; it was Amelia's phone.

'Oh, for Pete's sake' she mumbled. She took the lollipop with her, before unlocking her phone. 'It's from Ashley. Sorry babe, can I take this one?'

Lawrence didn't get a chance to respond, as Amelia was already halfway upstairs before entering the bathroom. He sat there, slightly despondent, not sure what to make of the evening. Maybe his hopes were a waste of time.

The unassuming Lawrence wasn't expecting that Amelia has feigned a phonecall by an alarm 2 minutes after grabbing the lollipop. Though it was ambitious, her plan paid off! In her pocket, she pulled out the music figurine, followed by the instructions.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR ADIPOSION:

PLEASE HAVE BOTH PARTIES LICK A SIDE OF THE LOLLIPOP. AFTER SUCH, DIP THE LOLLY INTO THE ADIPOISON. ONCE IT'S CHANGED COLOUR, IT IS READY. ONLY ONE SIP IS NEEDED FOR EFFECT.

CAUTION: SOME POTIONS CAN CAUSE PHYSICAL AND MENTAL CHANGES, DEPENDING ON OTHER PARTY'S DESIRES. AS IT VARIES PER PERSON, WEAR LOOSE CLOTHING IN CASE AND TAKE OFF ANY JEWELLERY. BE ADVISORY. EFFECTS TAKE 1-2 MINUTES, IN SOME CASES AS LONG AS 5.

'Ah it must stain if I'm not careful' Anelia naively thought, not paying too much heed to the caution or it's ramifications. She just wanted it to work.

Following the paper, Amelia entered the lollipop into the potion, careful not to interfere with Lawrence's side of the lollipop. The potion, previously clear, fizzled once the lolly hit the liquid, creating a small spark. Eventually, the transparency dissipated into a velvety purple colour, enticing Amelia off of appearance alone.

It was time.
 
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Part 5;

Lawrence started to worry something was wrong with Amelia or her friend. He'd been sat at the table for 10 minutes and was tempted to head upstairs, but the creak of the flooring let him know Amelia was coming back down.

While it was true, Amelia's attire was different from before. While she came home in a charming yellow and blue sundress, she opted for a pyjama top and older sweatpants. Her engagement ring was off, but she was holding the figurine.

'I-is everything okay, love?' Lawrence questioned.

'It will be soon enough' Amelia mysteriously responded. This put Lawrence off slightly, not sure how to digest what she said. His eyes glanced to the figure.

'Did..did you get that from the Isle of Wight?'

Amelia didn't address the question, sitting back at the dining table, untucking her chair from the table and sat down. 'Lawrence, I know something isn't right.'

His eyes began to flicker - fuck! Did she go through his history? Didn't he delete all the porn searches? He was greatly confused, yet she continued.

'I...I know our bedroom isn't what it used to be. And I wasn't sure what the solution was. So we've gotten to this point.' She put the figurine on the table. 'I...I don't know what this is going to do, but I hope to god it's what you want!'

Amelia pulled the figurine's head off, revealing it's true intentions; before Lawrence could begin to say anything, she took a swig from the bottle. The Adipoison had an intense sweetness, letting her revel in licking the purple elixir from her lips.

Lawrence sat back, dumbfounded - had his fiance lost the plot? Did she cheat on him? Was she now an alcoholic? All these ideas swirled in his head, as he couldn't find anything to say.

Amelia, on the other hand, seemed incredibly relieved by doing so. Finally, she'd know what she needed to do! Would the elixir give her the knowledge she needed to fix her relationship? Maybe more? She was looking forward to it.

30 seconds passed. Eventually, the silence was broken. 'Amelia, what the fuck was that?'

'Give me a minute, and we'll find out.' she ambiguously stated. another 35 seconds passed.

Playing with her ponytail, both Amelia and Lawrence caught sight of something amazing; her hair was starting to change colour! The tips of her platinum blonde were now becoming a dark brown again. Within 10 seconds, her hair changed back to her normal colour. In the disbelief of both, this silence was broken too - this time, by Amelia.

She burst out laughing - she couldn't believe it! All he wanted was for her to stop dying her hair to get it back to normal, and he would've completely been fine? Her joy of it finally being over far outweighed the fact she spent 20x the money on basically getting her hair dyed.

She looked back over to Lawrence, his mouth still open in major confusion. She got up, went to kiss him, and apologised. 'I'm sorry love.'

Lawrence, needing time to digest fully what was going on, could only shake his head in misunderstanding. Amelia realised she'd need to get into the nitty-gritty.

'Okay, so, I lied. I went down to the Isle of Wight myself' she admitted, sitting back down. 'We've been struggling, Lawrence. I've been struggling. I so desperately missed your embrace, pining for it again and hoping one day it would all go back to normal. But it never came. So I went on a journey to find someone to get us back to where we needed to be, and it worked! It actually worked' she practically yelled with a sigh of relief.

Though Lawrence was still in a state of utter perplexion, he had relaxed after seeing his fiance's elation. 'I'm-I'm glad that you found what you needed to babe' he said as sincerely as he could. But then he realised her wording: '"Back to where we needed to be?" What did that mean, love?'

Amelia happily responded, her eyes shut as she relaxed back on her chair. 'It's called adipoison, I think. Something about making me look how you want me to?'

The joy once she opened her eyes was soon replaced with surprise - Lawrence's mild happiness had been replaced with a wide-eyed realisation. 'Oh fuck' he muttered.

'Wait, wha-?'

*GRUMBLE*
 
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Part 6;

Despite her admittedly eating a touch more than she usually would of chicken parmesan, Amelia's stomach grumbled loud enough to cause a mild earthquake, as if she hadn't eaten for 2 years. Unlike your typical stomach growl, however, this wasn't going to die down.

Amelia tried to suppress her stomach grumbling out of embarrassment, placing her hands against it to force the sounds away, Except, that didn't do anything. All it did do, however, was make Amelia privy to the reality; her stomach was pushing back. And it was pushing back fast.

Her once trim front now began to emerge with a growing softness, her stomach growl continuing its insistent noise. At her brain's behest, she tried to scoop the fat backwards in a weak form of defence, grabbing and clutching at clumps of softness. However, this effect didn't stick solely to her tummy, shortly followed by the rest of her body.

It'd best be described from this point on from the perspective of Lawrence. The first part of Amelia he saw stop growing began at her arms; once trim and barely 10 inches round in diameter, they began to fluff up. Fat congregated and piled up until the chub that was now engulfing her biceps and triceps settled at the size of bed pillows, pushing the sleeves of her shirt to its limits.

Next came her boobs. Well, he assumed they'd be rising, anyway; very shortly after Amelia's grumble, her pyjama top rode up her (at the time) potbelly; while in comparison to her torso it wasn't massive, eventually the pyjama top died a sudden death. Her comfortable Cs had now fattened out to Fs at the minimum, and that doesn't consider the extra baggage the fat was bringing. Her tits burst through her shirt's fabric, unleashing her udders to her mild comfort.

The first round saw a swift defeat to Amelia's shirt at the will of her upper half, but the second round involved the dining room chair and her ever-growing thighs. Though she'd always been a touch thicker below the belt, there was no other way to say that Amelia's thighs became humungous by the end of the fattening. Her cellulite rippled as her stomach jiggled through the growl, eventually reaching the sides of the chairs.

Lawrence had taken pride in picking out a nice antique set for a dining room, which seating that allowed for openness where the wooden armrests were. He then learnt, briefly, that it also was a great mound for fat to push through. The chair that could take a previously 1-wide Amelia now had to deal with a girl with thighs larger the side of her waist each.

Despite a good fight from the chair, it eventually fell to a sneak attack by another proponent of Amelia; her ass. Before the transformation, Lawrence might've been able to cup one of her cheeks with his hand. Now though? He'd need a towel to cover the full-frame of her ass. Amelia had risen by a few inches due to the fat added to her booty before the chair gave away, causing her to fall on the floor in a heap. Also caught in the crossfire were her formerly baggy sweatpants, now a pile of tatters that her ass powered it's way through.

Lawrence rushed over to check on her, yet stood back as she was still rising - the last and least of her being her belly. A light amount of front chub only a minute ago, soon transformed in a cycle of massive proportion; from a trim front to the grumble pushing a little bit of fat. By 10 seconds later, she formed a sizeable pot belly; another 10 seconds later, and she could've passed for heavily pregnant with twins. By 30 seconds later? She practically had an exercise ball's diameter for a torso.
And that wasn't even at her full peak.

By the time it was all over, Lawrence stared in shock at his partner, who, now sporting a sizeable double chin and verging on a triple chin, was in disbelief of everything. The 135lb frame had plumped up beautifully to a near-400lb beauty, her olive skin spread far and wide like a small pool of fat. Her body, now more reminiscent of an overstuffed plush of a chubby toy, was exactly Lawrence's ideal woman. Massive arms and legs, a shelf-like ass, tits for days and an incredible belly to round out her apple shape.

Lawrence fell to his eyes after his oversized beauty finally stopped, the grumble dying down again, with her mumbling to herself on the floor in disbelief. 'Holy shit, Amelia, are you okay?!'

He didn't get a succinct response; the effects of the adipoison had altered both Amelia's figure and her cognition to suit it. Had she woken up to this figure, she'd have believed herself to be in a nightmare; this time, however, her brain was hard-wiring itself to focus on other matters.

Her stomach began to rumble again, this time a lighter and less intimidating noise reverberating through her body. While Lawrence stood back to let anything happen again, his partner turned towards the fat admirer, placing a chubby hand as far up her mountain of a stomach as she could, and moaned 'I'm so hungry.'

A year ago or so, Amelia would keep her hunger repressed within her, as a symbol of her success in slimming down. Right now, however, the enormous woman was desperate for something to accommodate her now double-sized stomach.

Lawrence stammered, not quite sure if he'd finally lost it. A second 'I'm hungry!' from his prize pig, however, showed that she wasn't playing around. He quickly went over to the table and grabbed the box of Belgian truffles.

Though he allowed her the opportunity to feed herself, Amelia instead preferred to leave her mouth agape for someone else to do the hard part. While he again wasn't quite sure of reality anymore, he wasn't sure if anything worse would happen if he didn't comply and began to hand-feed his nearly triple-sized fiance.
 
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Part 7;

Amelia would often struggle with half a dozen truffles at her smallest weight - the most Lawrence could remember her eating at a time was 36, around the time of her heaviest. As such, he often opted for the largest box of 120, giving her sweet treats that'd often last a few weeks.

This night, 120 could barely stop the fattened lass. Lawrence began to develop muscle memory of picking a truffle, plopping it in Amelia's waiting mouth, waiting for an 'I'm full' that never came. He also took notice of her trying to rub the top of her bloated gut, her eyes practically begging for him to do the job for her.

For 45 minutes, this pattern would continue; a truffle loaded into her bating mouth with his left hand, while his right soothed the well-fed stomach of his now gargantuan beauty. It also gave Lawrence a closer look at all of Amelia's enormous features, seeing the petite hands of yesterday now replaced by a chubby and adorable mitten instead.

As could likely be imagined, Lawrence, though eager to help his wife, was insanely aroused by the events that transpired that evening. He'd just seen the love of his life go from the svelt figure he struggled to completely love, to a giant and blubbery babe of a woman. Looking at a woman like the lady in front of him would've done enough for him - the opportunity to feed and massage that woman, however? He was on another plane of existence right now.

Amelia had started to come around slightly more; the adipoison left her mind in a brief state of simple delirium as to not leave immense recollections on her change in figure. By the time the 100th truffle was happily gobbled by her, she started to gain her speaking and thinking skills back. 'Lawrence?' she shyly asked. 'Is..is everything alright?'

'I-I think so, babe.' He wasn't sure how to address it to her. 'Do, uh, you remember much of today?'

'Umm...' her mind cast back as far as she could remember, recollecting a music shop from the day before. 'Oh! Yes, I remember. I went to the Isle of Wight to get a potion.'

This is something Lawrence would've had a hard time to believe, had it not transpired all in front of him. 'Yeah, that's right. Anything else?'

'I remember taking it, then it all kind of gets a little bit fuzzy in my head...' She takes a second to look down at herself. 'Oh shit, I'm not wearing anything!' completely ignorant to her ballooned figure. 'Babe, can you get me something to wear?'

'...Sure, love' pecking her on the cheek and going to get her something. While Lawrence went upstairs to try and figure if anything could possibly fit her, Amelia began to move; her exponentially fatter figure thankfully had been remedied with other parts of her body adjusting for this change. Suddenly being held down by 250lbs of extra adipose was a non-factor as her muscles and skeleton were able to carry the weight, as well as a 5'4" rotund lady, could.

Lawrence returned with an old dressing-gown of his, oversized for extra comfort. 'Here, let me help you put this on.', reaching behind her and threading her cushioned arms through. A robe that swamped Lawrence was arguably well-fitting for Amelia, almost unable to cover her whole circumference.

To try his luck, Lawrence opened the conversation back up with 'Did I tell you how stunning you look, babe?' He expected a roll of the eyes at best and a mortified rebuttal at worst, yet his expectations were met with 'Awe, thank you so much, love' and a gentle kiss from her full lips. He knew at this point that the extra weight now bore no heed on her mental health. No matter her size, from 100lbs to 500lbs, she seemed to be content with her size.

'Can I get you anything to eat or drink love?' he asked?

'Hmm, I'm a touch thirsty for some tea' Amelia bashfully replied. Lawrence smiled.

'Say no more.' He quickly cleared the table and put the kettle on. Amelia was sat on the sofa, once occupying half of a 3-seater to now covering 2 thirds of it. She couldn't quite put a finger on it, but she knew something was different. She playfully poked her stomach, watching it jiggle and wave, hoping to remember if this was something to do with her figure.

Her concentration was broken by the high-pitch squeal of the kettle reaching boiling point. Instead, she just opted to wait, until her husband-to-be reentered with a pastel pink mug. 'For you,' he cooed lovingly.

'Thank you babe' she flirtingly puckered back at. A deep swig of the tea filled her with a nice warmness 'Oh babe, this is delicious! Is this a new flavour?' The sweetness overwhelmed her.

'Oh uh, yeah! Sure.'

'What is it, some kind of berry?' she enquired. Lawrence didn't really know how to respond, to her slight confusion. 'Babe, what flavour is this tea?'

He smirked.

*GURGLE*

A familiar noise reverberated from the now-gargantuan stomach of Amelia. This time, her belly rippled like a disturbed glass of water from a giant footstep. Her face turned to her fiance, whose eyes began to widen with excitement.

She began to rise again.

~
 

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