BBW The Superheavyweight Champion (BBW, XWG, Stuffing)

Discussion in 'Recent Additions' started by Vongola27, Dec 26, 2017.

  1. Jul 31, 2019 #61

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

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    Any will to fight was drained from Natty by that point in the night; if she had any courage, it was buried under bacon and cheese. She dumbly nodded her head as her eyelids drooped, and she burbled, “I…oink…get it. Just please…oin-oink…let me rest.”

    “I knew there was still some sense in that bimbo head of yours,” Sadie chuckled as she gave Natalie’s strawberry blonde curls a patronizing pat. “Go ahead and get some sleep, Notapig; I’m going to go take a shower. I’d offer for you to join me, but I don’t think you can lift a finger right now—besides, it’s more fitting for a pig to lay in its own filth.”

    The fiendish wrestler howled with laughter as she sauntered off, muscular legs and pert ass bouncing with each step. Natalie gurgled once or twice more before succumbing to sleep, still handcuffed to the bed, and thought of an old cartoon that she saw as a kid. What was it again? Ah, yes—‘Pigs is Pigs’.

    ***

    Amanda was miserable by the end of the show: after her ego had been fed, she had to sit around and spout the occasional line for the next several hours; all this while feeling like her costume would rip at any moment, short of breath from said costume, and hungry as a starving tiger. She licked her lips every time she saw someone walking by with an overfilled plate of food, desperately wishing she could have something to sate her hunger pangs, but she managed some restraint. Pigging out in front of the whole world would have been the death of her credibility, and Amanda was image-conscious if nothing else.

    “God, I’m so hungry,” she whined as she waddled to the car with Levi by her side.

    Any pretenses the Little Rich Girl had were cast aside once she was in the privacy of her car. Be it the hunger getting to her or a desperate need to breathe, she tugged the zipper down the front of her costume until every inch of her baby bump was exposed. Amanda put her hands on the globular gut and gave it a soothing rub, though that did little to quell her appetite. Now that she was free from public scrutiny, the bulbous billionaire threw out her perfect public image in favor of any small comfort.

    “You want me to stop and get you anything on the way home, hon?” asked Levi as he reached over to put his hand on hers—and brush her belly with his fingertips.

    “No, no,” she grunted as she shifted her widening hips around in failed attempt to get comfortable. “We’ve got plenty of leftovers in the house, and I will be good and damned if I zip up this death trap of a costume again.”

    There was another reason that Amanda was waiting until she got back home—Heidi. The woman always cooked generous portions, but ever since her employer had gotten pregnant and homebound, she had gone into overdrive. Even with the billionaire’s growing appetite, there were always plentiful leftovers; she need never worry about going hungry. In fact, her biggest fear was being hungry for even a second more, which is why Levi sped back home as if she were in labor.

    When the couple got home, the mother set a world record as she waddled as fast as she could to the kitchen. Levi followed behind after checking to make sure his daughters were fast asleep in their beds, and came upon Amanda setting a smorgasbord on the kitchen table. She had already torn into a bag of pita chips and munched on a small handful every time she dove back into the fridge for more. The sight of so much food and the idea of it all disappearing into his ravenous wife’s belly sent shivers down the wrestler’s back, and he walked over to her side.

    “Babe, why don’t you sit down and let me warm this up for you?” the former Triple Threat suggested as he led Amanda away from the fridge and sat her plush bottom down in a chair.

    “Levi, you really don’t have to do that,” Amanda retorted as she tried to get up, only for her husband to place his hand on her belly and gently push her back down.

    “I insist, mamacita,” the burly man said in a much more commanding voice—the sort of voice he used on TV to command respect from the locker room. Levi handed her the bag of chips and a container of dip and told her, “This should tide you over as I heat up a few things.”

    Amanda wanted to contest him, to take control of the kitchen and, by extension, her appetite, but all she could do was meekly nod and munch on chip after chip. Levi would use that tone of voice in the bedroom now and then, but it was the first time he had used it in their day-to-day life. Hearing him be so authoritative made the Little Rich Girl tremble, and she found herself rubbing her thighs together as he worked. Between that and his feeling her up earlier in the day, she wanted him to carry her to the bedroom and fuck her brains out, but a bigger part of her brain was telling her to eat until there was no room for the baby.

    “All right, here comes some grilled chicken, corn with plenty of butter, and some wild rice,” Levi announced, only for his wife to take the plate and eat with little thought to the presentation. “Boy, you really are hungry, aren’t you?”

    In between bites, Amanda huffed out, “Eating for…four. Need my…strength.”

    “Strength…right,” the wrestler chuckled as he went back to the stove to finish warming a pumpkin and roast beef stew. “Well, I can imagine you’re feeling a little hungry after tonight; I had to practically force-feed you a few snacks.”

    Now there was an idea: Amanda pinned to her chair by a belly the size of a yoga ball and Levi standing by her side with a plate of cocktail wieners, meatballs, vegetables slathered in ranch, and small sandwiches; he fantasized stuffing her with each and every one, her stomach swelling bit by bit. It was a fantasy he had been having since the start of this latest pregnancy, and it was only fostered by the stories and art he found online. The only difference between fact and fiction seemed to be that he would not need to force-feed his wife a single crumb, if the way she wolfed down her late dinner was any indication.

    Amanda managed to wolf down four full plates of food before she started to slow down, and it took an additional two for her to finally stop. The last thing left on her dish was a few pieces of chicken and rice in a yellow curry, and she picked at it with all the energy of a sloth. Her brain was finally catching up with her stomach; there was no way she could eat another bite. And yet, that hunger was still there, mewling like a cat waiting for its supper.

    “What’s the matter, mama? Feeling a little full?” Levi joked as he sat at the other side of the table after cleaning the dishes, which left him all the time in the world to watch his former fitness fiend of a wife devolve into a gluttonous cow.

    “Still got room,” she muttered as she scooped up another forkful to her food-speckled lips. “Just a little more.”

    The fork never made it to her mouth, as her arm, tired from all the effort, slacked and put it back on the plate. Her mind was telling her she did not need a single bite more, but thankfully, she had an attentive husband to help pick up the slack. Levi pulled his chair up beside hers and picked the fork back up again, guiding it up to her mouth while waving it through the air.

    “Open wide,” he hummed. “Here comes the plane.”

    The Little Rich Girl, feeling very much like her nickname, bashfully opened her mouth, shut her eyes, and welcomed the forkful—and the one after that, and the one after that too. She cooed in between bites and allowed her hands to rest on her stuffed stomach, feeling how packed it was with food and her triplets. At the same time, it felt soft and squishy in other areas, especially around her hips, where love handles were blossoming. Her mind was a mishmash of feelings in that moment: disgust at how plump she was getting; content from having a full belly; lust from the domineering look in her husband’s eyes. Amanda did not know what to do with these feelings, so she did the only thing she could at that moment—eat.

    Finally, she gulped down the last of the curry, and opened her bleary eyes to a clean plate and Levi stroking her soft cheek. He hummed as he told her, “Looks like you’re in the Clean Plate Club, mamacita—how about I take you upstairs to show you what good eaters get?”

    “Bed,” the billionaire groaned as she allowed her loving husband to lift her from the chair. “Too tired…too full.”

    “Whatever you say, hon,” the wrestler chuckled while patting her fat rump. “Whatever you say.
     
  2. Aug 7, 2019 #62

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

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    CHAPTER 31

    On Halloween Night, the air was thick with children’s laughter, doorbells and knocks, and the pitter-patter of feet wandering the neighborhood in search of candy. Theresa Hartley and Carolyn Brown were usually the ones to take their kids trick-or-treating, but not this year; it was the dads’ turns to play babysitter. Why? Because as Kool and the Gang once sang, “It’s Ladies’ Night”, and the two mothers were heading to a party held by the girls at Rose’s wrestling school.

    In the near two months since Theresa made her first visit to Genelle’s Gym, she and Carolyn had been adopted as the moms of the students—even if Carolyn only had three years on the oldest in the class. Being a former pro, the Queen of Hearts was able to compliment Rose’s lessons well, and her less acerbic personality ingratiated her to the students, as it offered a reprieve from their drill sergeant. She had won their respect during her impromptu match with Nina, but she maintained it through being a damn good teacher.

    Her blonde, bubbly companion, meanwhile, had won their affection the same way she had her husband’s—their stomachs. The chunky Carolyn was a whiz at making up snacks, healthy or otherwise, and the class enjoyed plenty during breaks and after class. While her honey-glazed orange slices would have made her shoe-in regardless, the girls in the class were impressed with how she tried to keep up with them. Years of sitting on her plush backside during her spare time had made the soccer mom as firm as pudding, but she was putting in the effort with the others, and they respected her all the more for it.

    Cyndi Lauper blared as the two bloated bunnies sped through town on their way to JJ’s apartment. Theresa waved one of her ham hock arms out the window and Carolyn was dancing so much in her seat that it was a miracle that she stayed on the road. Both girls were singing at the top of their lungs, ignoring the passers-by who wondered how much candy and/or liquor the two elephantine women had imbibed so far that night.

    “That’s all they really want,” the pot-bellied driver crooned as she drummed on her steering wheel. “Some fun!”

    “When the working day is done—oh, girls just wanna have fun!” her rotund, redheaded friend bellowed, bountiful breasts jiggling with the slightest movement.

    Even if the two moms had been svelte, their costumes would have drawn stares from onlookers. Theresa had convinced her bosom buddy to dress in themed costumes, not revealing that the theme was ‘awesome women wrestlers of the 90s’. Carolyn had managed to squeeze her butter-soft body into a white and flame-striped singlet, with matching wrist guards and boots, in an emulation of Alundra Blayze, albeit with much more bulk. Her corpulent companion was crammed into a black leotard and Chinese dress combo, with black and gold boots to complete. The Queen’s scarlet locks had been gelled to the point that half stood up in a perfect tower of hair, and jagged blue lines had been painted across her chubby cheeks—all in the style of the legendary Bull Nakano.

    Carolyn’s minivan screeched into the parking lot outside JJ’s building, and the portly pair checked themselves over in the mirror. The blonde looked to her pudgy pal and asked, “You ready to do this, Tessie?”

    “I was born ready, Care,” the redhead cockily answered. “We’ve got pumpkin lager and whiskey cookies—we are ready to rock this place!”

    They most certainly were not ready to rock the place. The music in the apartment was thumping so loud that, even with all the windows closed, the soccer moms could hear it from the street. Theresa made the wise decision to text JJ, who arrived at the door looking even loopier than she normally did. The brunette was dressed in cut-off overalls that left most of her rump exposed, a button up work shirt tied off underneath her chest, and a ball cap that read ‘HANDY’ on the front. Judging by what Carolyn could see behind her, the lackadaisical girl was not the only one going for the sexy ‘fill in the blank’ look.

    “Dudes, you made it!” JJ slurred as she tried in vain to wrap her arms around both chunkettes. “And you brought beer—you’re, like, the best moms ever! Come on in!”

    As their intoxicated hostess vanished into the den of debauchery, Theresa gave her bubblier, more vivacious friend a nervous glance, only to be met with an affirming pat on the shoulder. Carolyn gave her a grin and reassured her, “Hey, it’s going to be fun. It’ll be just like all those parties you told me about when you were on the road. How can this be any worse than the time you went all ‘Fury Road’ while driving up to Atlantic City?”

    “You know what? You’re right,” the busty redhead decided. “I survived dangling out of a car going 90 down the Jersey Turnpike; I can survive a party with a bunch of twenty-somethings.”

    “That’s the spirit!” the bulbous blonde exclaimed, bumping her chunky companion with her hip. “Now, let’s show them how soccer moms party!”

    The porcine pair waddled into the apartment and scoped it out: there was an assortment of food on a folding table, a giant tub which several girls crowded around, and more drinks than a bar. All the girls in the wrestling school were there, each one dressed as something sexy, be it a sexy witch, sexy nurse, or sexy sex worker. The party was going strong, despite only starting a half-hour prior; they had clearly wasted no time in getting rowdy. So impressed by the decadence were they, neither woman noticed Nina Neverland sneaking up behind them until they both felt a stinging clap on their ample backsides.

    “Waddup, ladies?” asked the rebel without a cause as she sauntered between Theresa and Carolyn. “Looking good—I’m digging the retro looks.”

    “What can I say? Gotta love the classics,” replied her redheaded mentor while she rubbed the imprint Nina had left on her pale cheek. “And what are you supposed to be?”

    The punk rolled her eyes and answered, “Duh. Isn’t it totally obvious? I’m a punk rock Tinkerbell!”

    Nina gave a little twirl of her costume, and the massive matrons could just make out the resemblance if they squinted. Her hair was still the same, but she wore dark eye shadow, lipstick, and a few extra piercings. Fishnet sleeves ran from her fingers up to her bare shoulders, and her full breasts were just barely covered by a black rag with an anarchist’s circle-A. Her midriff was left bare all the way down to her hips, where another black rag gave her the slightest of decency. Another pair of fishnet stockings led down to high-heeled combat boots, and a spiky belt completed the look.

    “Right, yeah, totally obvious!” Carolyn fibbed as she studied the young upstart. “Great look!”

    “I know, right?” Nina replied haughtily before her eyes lit up at the box of cookies and exclaimed, “Ooh, cookies!”

    Acting less her age and more her shoe size, the punk fairy greedily snatched up the whiskey cookies from the rotund blonde and popped one in her mouth. While Nina hummed in contentment, Theresa gave her rebellious student another once-over and noted that the girl’s stomach was losing its tone, but that was not the only part that was softening up. Her costume was undoubtedly meant to show some skin, but it seemed even more ill-fitting than intended.

    In fact, a cursory glance around the room confirmed that this was no isolated incident—nearly all the girls were softer than they had been when Theresa and Carolyn first met them. None of them were even close to the two plumpers, but there was definitely more jiggle whenever they walked or danced; even JJ looked a touch bigger, as her cutoffs actually cut into her peachy thighs. Theresa was surprised that Rose had not said anything, considering how high maintenance the veteran wrestler could be, but she assured herself that a talk was forthcoming. Tonight, it was all about letting go and having some fun.

    “God, I could eat these all night,” Nina cooed as she shifted the box under her arm. “Oh, you’ve got to check this out.”
     
  3. Aug 7, 2019 #63

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

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    The bratty girl flipped her pink hair aside as she sauntered through the apartment with a swagger that belied the five or ten pounds she had put on. She led the moms to the giant tub and gave them their first glimpse of what was in the bucket—ice, water, and bottles at the bottom. With a smirk, she explained, “Bobbing for apples is for babies, so we decided that we should bob for something a little more age appropriate. Tonight, we’re bobbing for hard cider, witches, and if you get a bottle, you have to drink it.”

    “Ooh, I love cider!” Carolyn exclaimed giddily. She bounced up to the tub as the girls around it parted to give the stout woman plenty of room.

    Nina glanced to Theresa and asked, “She has no idea what hard cider is, does she?”

    “No,” the rotund redhead sighed, “no, she does not.”

    The bountiful blonde steadied herself for the cold water as the students around her chanted her name as only wrestling fans can. After taking one big gulp of air, Carolyn dove her head into the tub and fished around for a moment before emerging with a bottle of her own. Cheers rang out and congratulatory pats were given as she shook the water from her hair with a dopey grin.

    “That’s so cold! I love it!” the soccer mom declared before cracking open the bottle and chugging down half before she took a pause. She licked her plump lips and shouted in realization, “Oh my god—Tessie, this has alcohol in it!”

    “Yeah, that’s why they call it ‘hard’ cider,” Theresa chuckled as she squeezed past her friend, giving her a tap on her bulbous belly on the way past. “Now, step aside and let a pro show you how it’s done.”

    The Queen of Hearts clapped her hands together before taking hold of the tub and lowering her head down to the water. Before she could take the plunge though, she noticed something impeding her—two things, really. Her tubby tits squished against the icy cold bucket, which meant that the former champion had to readjust herself to get a good angle. Words of encouragement were shared behind her, but she paid her students no mind; she was solely focused on ignoring how her chest was too fat for the game.

    “What’s the matter, teach? We’re waiting to see how it’s done,” Nina taunted while nibbling on another cookie.

    That was all the motivation Theresa needed, and she plunged her head into the icy water while her breasts were smooshed against the bucket. The redhead swiveled her head from side to side before coming up for air with not one but two bottles of cider to show for it. She held them over her head like trophies as the peanut gallery erupted into applause all around her. When she saw Nina roll her eyes like the snotty brat she was, the busty redhead could not help but show off that tiny bit more. Both bottles were opened in a heartbeat and Theresa clinked them together before double fisting the cider down her gullet.

    When she finished guzzling down the drinks, the redhead tossed the bottles behind her and clapped a hand on her massive belly. She roared out, “Who’s ready to party?!”

    If the girls were not loud enough beforehand, they somehow got even crazier after that, as they all cheered for the matron. Theresa and Carolyn made the rounds: greeting and chatting it up with each of the students; partaking in a little of this and a snippet of that; sampling many of the goodies that had been prepared. While some of the girls had gotten lazy and simply ordered pizza, others had gotten even more creative, with some of the dishes Halloween-themed. Theresa was enjoying a buckeye colored to resemble an eyeball when she was approached by a petite Indian girl carrying a tray of shot glass-sized mason jars.

    “What’ve we got here, Vidya?” the titillating teacher asked as she picked one up and sniffed. There was definitely alcohol in there—whiskey, certainly—but she could not place anything else. Whatever it was, it smelled absolutely delicious, and she did not hesitate to gulp it down.

    “Pumpkin pie shots!” Vidya answered over the roar of the music. “Part Irish Cream, part amaretto, and part cinnamon schnapps—it’s a festive way of getting smashed!”

    Theresa whooped in delight at that and downed another shot before Vidya vanished with the tray. Her ears perked up when she heard a familiar tune come over the speakers—Madonna’s ‘Holiday’, a favorite of hers since she first heard it on the radio as a kid. Throwing her flabby arms up in the air, the tubby teacher declared, “I love this song!”

    Like a joyful elephant, the redhead bounded out to the middle of the room swiveled her flabby hips in a failed attempt at dancing. She had studied Madonna’s dance moves for years, to the point that she had completely wrecked a tape of the Queen of Pop’s music videos, and while she might have been able to do them once upon a time, she was nowhere near limber or nimble enough anymore. Her every move made her fluffy body bounce and wobble like gelatin in an earthquake, and attempting to do even a slight leap in the air resulted in a crash like an anvil. This ungainliness did not affect her as much as it would have a few months prior, and whether it was because of her class or the drink, Theresa could not argue with the results. For the first time in a long time, she was happy on a consistent basis.

    When the song finally ended though, gravity took hold of her once more, and the rotund redhead felt like she could collapse then and there. She waddled over to an available chair and plopped her ample ass down on the cushion, ignoring how little space there was between the arms. Her belly puffed in and out like a bullfrog’s throat as she caught her breath, and her tits were nearly pushed up to her chin as she slouched in the armchair. So drained was the titanic teacher that she could have fallen asleep there and then, were it not for JJ poking her in her pillowy bicep.

    “Dude, those were some awesome dance moves,” the slothful girl hummed as she sat down on the arm of the chair. She carried a plastic bag full of what looked to be gummies with her, and the brunette tossed a little bear into her mouth while she relaxed beside Theresa. “You’ve got to totally show me how to move like that, dude.”

    In between gulps of air, the bloated woman grunted, “You might have to put on a few pounds before you can move like me, Jamie. What are you munching on there?”

    “Edibles, my dude,” JJ answered without a care in the world. “Want one? They’re straight from Colorado!”

    Curious about what made these more ‘edible’ than any of the other food in the room, Theresa reached into the bag and pulled out a red and white worm. She dropped it into her mouth and slowly chewed on it while she tried to identify the flavors. Red typically meant cherry and white meant pineapple for whatever reason, but neither flavor could be found. Not to say it was bad at all—merely that it was different.

    “Not bad,” the redhead remarked as she reached her sausage fingers into the bag for another gummy worm. “They’re pretty tasty, actually.”

    “Glad you like ‘em,” JJ replied with a lazy grin. “They were a little more expensive than the usual stuff, but they’re hella tastier. Plus, I think the buzz is so much nicer from these.”

    That part made Theresa nearly gag on her fourth and fifth gummies. She glanced up to the girl beside her and asked, “Did you just say buzz? JJ, what’s even in these?”

    “Pure, organic cannabis, straight from Boulder,” the brunette answered without a care in the world. “Why? You don’t like it?”

    The question gave the tubby teacher pause. As a mother of two and nearly forty, she should have been responsible and told JJ off for giving her edibles without her understanding. Yet, she could not find in her to be mad at the girl; it helped that she had a warm, fuzzy feeling flowing through her bulky body. Instead of getting upset, Theresa giggled and snatched up one more gummy from the bag as she answered, “Oh, I love them—I’m more used to them being in brownies, that’s all.”

    The remark brought a dopey laugh to JJ’s lips. “Like, if I could cook, man, I would whip up some brownies that would absolutely blow your mind. Speaking of, you want me to grab you anything, dude? Those munchies are probably going to kick in soon.”

    “I think some pizza sounds rad right now, JJ,” the redhead mused as she rubbed her belly. Sure enough, her stomach was growling like an angry dog, and her thoughts turned to glorious food. She licked her chops as she thought of what she would consume over the course of a long, long night...
     
  4. Aug 13, 2019 #64

    Vongola27

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    CHAPTER 32

    It had been almost eight years since Theresa had any form of marijuana, but she was sure she had never had any quite this potent before. She thought to ask JJ how much THC could possibly be in a single gummy, considering she only had five and was already feeling a warm haze in her head. While it would normally take a hot minute for the effects to kick in, the former wrestler’s tolerance was at an all-time low after abstaining since starting her family. A few drinks were already giving her a good buzz, and only a few gummies were enough to get the floaty feeling going.

    “Good thing I’m so big,” she murmured as her plump fingers reached down and stroked at her unitard-covered belly. “Any smaller, and I’d float away.”

    Her digits sank into the pillow of flab that coated award-winning abs, and she gave her stomach a lazy wobble. Every jiggle seemed to echo and reverberate throughout her entire body, so much so that the redhead could swear her brain was swaying with each motion. She tittered with laughter at the thought, mumbling to herself, “God, Tessie, you are out of it. You need some fresh air—it’s too hot in here.”

    Unfortunately, her body refused to cooperate with her addled mind, and after a few pathetic attempts at shifting her bulk, she settled back into the comfy chair. Theresa ran a hand through her crimson locks and sighed wistfully while her free hand reached down and bounced one of her bloated breasts. They were slowly shrinking from the watermelon proportions she had at her peak, but in her foggy state, they might as well have been zeppelins.

    “You two are such a pain, you know that?” the Queen of Hearts groused as she hefted her other titanic tit and clapped it against its twin. “I remember when you two were like softballs, but look at you now—I look like I’m smuggling kickballs around. How am I supposed to make my big comeback when I’ve got prize-winning pumpkins stuck to me?”

    “Oh, stop, Tessie,” Carolyn playfully chided her friend as she waddled into view. The bulbous blonde teetered on her feet for an instant before plopping down on the loveseat beside Theresa’s armchair. “You look like a million Inter-World Heavyweight Championship belts.”

    Both women burst into a giggling fit at that, knowing that neither one of them did any justice to the wrestlers they had dressed up as. Theresa could feel her unitard riding up her backside, sinking in between her pale cheeks, and Carolyn’s bust warped the BLAYZE printed on her leotard. Both women’s costumes clung fast to their thick, flabby bodies, leaving every roll and curve on display for the other partiers. While the redhead’s black unitard made her look like a bowling ball with legs, her corpulent companion’s thighs oozed out of the leotard like dough being squeezed from a tube. Even though they had lost a few pounds in their time with the class, they had a long way to go before they were anywhere close to looking like champions.

    “Tess, Tess, Tesssssssssie,” Carolyn hummed while she reached out and slapped her friend’s sandbag-sized arm. “This is the best—no, second-best—wait, no…okay, this is the best party I’ve been to since Spring Break in my junior year. Rasslers really know how to party!”

    “What’d I tell you, Care-Bear?” Theresa lazily smirked as she slouched in the chair, belly rolling out over her thighs like an all-consuming blob. “The only thing that would make this even better is if we had a pool, ‘cause everything is better with a pool.”

    “Dude, I could, like, totally arrange that,” JJ chimed in while staggering over with a box of pizza, which she set on Theresa’s lap. “I’m, like, super good at picking locks—we should totally have a pool party next time!”

    Theresa opened up the box and waggled her fingers in glee at the sight of the pepperoni pizza inside. No food had ever looked or smelled as good as that pizza did; in her foggy mind, it might as well have been manna from Heaven. The redhead licked her salivating chops and pulled a slice free, biting through the string of cheese that came with it. She had had plenty of pizza in her life, but none had ever tasted as good as this did: the sweet and spicy sauce, the rich cheese, and the greasy pepperoni all combined to make for one hell of a pizza pie.

    “Oh my god,” the massive matron groaned as she stuffed half the slice in her mouth. “This is amazing. Carolyn, you’ve got to have some.”

    Her friend belched before replying, “Already got some, but thanks!”

    Theresa slothfully rolled her head to the side, fresh slice dangling between her lips, and saw that Carolyn had her own pizza box to choose from. The bloated soccer mom was double-fisting slices, foregoing the same table manners she tried to teach her kids, which left her with pizza sauce dripping onto her leotard and staining her peachy cheeks. She always looked like half-asleep, but now, her eyes were glazed as a ham while she stuffed her mouth full of pizza.

    “Damn, girl, save some for the rest of us,” Theresa chuckled, even as she ignored her own advice and stacked two slices on top of each other to make a pizza sandwich.

    “Don’t even sweat it, dude,” JJ brushed off the remark with a wave of her hand. The wave then became a series of motions as the loopy girl wiggled her hand through the air like a fish before letting it flop down onto her mentor’s flabby belly. “We’ve got, like, so much food, and you’re totally, like, the guests of honor! Ain’t that right, dudes?”

    The other girls at the party cheered and applauded for the two heifers, and Theresa wished she did not have a mouth full of pizza at that moment. She blushed a fine pink and gave a polite wave to her students before JJ stole her attention by patting her stomach. When she glanced over to the lackadaisical wrestler, she was met by another of JJ’s ‘special’ gummy worms, and like a fish to a worm, she ate it without thinking of the hook. Her brunette student chuckled at that and continued to pat Theresa’s jelly belly, making it wobble about like a plate of flan. The redhead hummed sleepily as the vibrations ran through her overfed figure, from her titanic melons to her mattress thighs.

    JJ ate another gummy before explaining, “Like, half of this party is yours, dude. You’ve been, like, a huge help for us, and all the girls totally love you. So, for, like, the rest of the night, you don’t have to worry about lifting a finger—we’ve totally got you covered.”

    “That sounds nice,” Theresa yawned before filling her cheeks with even more pizza. “You’re the best, JJ.”

    The compliment made the hostess blush like a tomato, and she quickly scurried off to get more supplies for the coaches—as quickly as she could manage in her state, at least. While JJ was gathering food and drink, Theresa shut her eyes and sank into herself, relaxing what few muscles were still tensed up. The edibles were getting to her head, as she felt a fluffy sensation all over her body; poking and prodding her plumpest portions felt like poking an overstuffed teddy bear bursting with cotton. It was not a bad sensation by any stretch of the imagination, and the rotund redhead could not help the giggles that escaped her lips.

    Those giggles paused when she felt someone take the pizza box from her lap. She opened her bleary eyes and spied Nina standing in front of her, empty box in one hand and a giant slice of cake in the other. The pink-haired punk smirked and waved the cake in front of Theresa, who followed it like a dog follows treats.

    “Hungry, Coach?” the upstart cooed as she waggled the slice just out of arm’s reach. “How does a nice slice of chocolate cake sound?”

    Theresa hiccupped and purred, “Sounds delicious, Nina. Thank you so—”

    “Too bad,” Nina cackled as she pulled the slice of cake away. She tossed the pizza box aside and prodded Theresa’s blubbery belly before moving on to Carolyn and doing the same thing to her. “See, the other girls might be willing to pamper you, but not me; I don’t do mollycoddling. So, if you butterballs want some cake, you’ll just have to get your own.”
     
  5. Aug 13, 2019 #65

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

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    Carolyn opened her mouth to contest the fact, but all that came out was a belch, which made her turn a bright pink before bursting into dopey giggles. Theresa, meanwhile, was neither smiling nor laughing; she could only take so much of Nina on a good day and sober mind. The redhead shifted in her seat in yet another failed effort to stand, but settled for sitting as straight as possible. Her flabby arms crossed under her bountiful bosom, which forced them closer to her chin than she would have liked, and she furrowed her brow in consternation.

    “Maybe you ought to lay off the cake, Nevinger—you’re looking a little thick these days,” the rotund redhead remarked readily and ruefully.

    The comment made Nina pause, a forkful of cake still in her mouth, which she swallowed before replying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bessie. I’m as trim as I ever was—trimmer, even, thanks to Rose being a total gym freak. Besides, you’ve got no place calling anyone fat; your tits probably weigh more than I do.”

    “Yeah, but I’ve been fat for a long time now, Nevinger,” Theresa retorted as she relaxed her arms to her sides, allowing her tits to roll back onto the peak of her belly. “But you’ve only put on weight since I met you a couple months ago. What’s it been—thirteen, fourteen pounds?”

    “It’s only twelve pounds!” Nina squeaked as she continued to scoop large forkfuls of cake in her mouth. “I can lose it whenever I want—I just need to get back to my spin classes!”

    Carolyn guffawed at that and slapped her ponderous thighs. “You and me both, sweetie—I keep swearing I’ll get back on the elliptical back home. Guess what? It’s been a glorified coat hanger for the last five years.”

    Theresa knew that was a lie: not only had Carolyn just bought the stationary bike a few weeks ago, but she also used it religiously; she rode it in the mornings on wrestling days and in the evenings as well on days without. All that leg work had helped to thicken the blonde’s legs and backside with a layer of muscle growing underneath the doughy pudge. They still quivered with every step she took, but the bloated bunny no longer got as tired walking around the store or the house. Both women had made progress to lose some flab, and they were not about to be talked down to by a know-it-all brat.

    Their taunting served to egg Nina’s eating even further, and the punk wolfed down the slice of cake in no time at all. She had the good grace to stifle a burp, but there was no controlling the hiccups that followed such speedy eating. With a dark glare, the young woman told the soccer moms, “Oh, you think—hic—that I’m funny? Think I’m eat—uhp—ing too much? Well, let’s—ulp—see who’s eating too much—hulp!”

    While the two chunky coaches shared nervous glances with each other, the brat of the class clapped her hands and called out over the music, “Hey, hey, hey! This is a party for our ‘wrestle moms’, right? Well, they’re getting pretty hungry—who wants to give them a hand?”

    Like cats to a can opener, the partiers all dropped what they were doing—chatting, dancing, drinking, or any mix of the three—and grabbed some food from the table. They all crowded around Theresa and Carolyn, and with everyone clamoring to try this or that, the moms could not make out what was being said at all. All they knew was that they should say something, but every speck of food they saw only fueled their hunger. Nina caught the gluttonous glint in their eyes and slinked off to raid what was left on the kitchen table.

    “Serves them right,” she muttered as she ate three coconut shrimp dipped in mango sauce. “Screw them. I’m not fat—they are! My diet’s been going so well lately, and I’ve been working out so much, I deserve a little cheat day. Yeah, that’s it.”

    As Nina sank into the waters of Denial, Theresa and Carolyn were stuck in the precarious position of picking a dish to start with. They reached out at random and snatched up whatever was in reach of their porky fingers—a frosted brownie in Theresa’s case and a donut sandwich in Carolyn’s. With all eyes on them, the two mothers dug into the gooey treats, and any reticence they might have had was thrown out the window. They found their second wind and all but crammed the desserts down their throats before reaching out for more.

    “This is for showing me how to take a bump from the top rope!” Vidya explained as she offered up fully loaded nachos to her redheaded mentor. The self-proclaimed fashionista blushed when she felt Theresa’s tongue and lips brush against her fingers, but she continued to pop the cheesy chips in the woman’s mouth until the plate was clear.

    “This is for helping me with my shitty boyfriend,” Tara hummed while holding a piece of pumpkin pie out for Carolyn. In the back of her mind, the blonde recognized it as her own recipe, which she had shared to help the petite Tara get over her scumbag lover. As it was, she just recognized it as a damn good pie, and happily wolfed it down.

    “This is for showing me that awesome chokehold last week,” Conner told Theresa as she spooned ice cream into the woman’s open, waiting mouth. When the Queen of Hearts had first joined the class, the brawny brawler did not think much of her, but she did not have the big mouth that Nina had (and was putting to good use as she tipped a bowl of chocolate-covered peanuts to her lips). Since September, she had been fascinated and impressed by the flabby woman, and now held her on par with their drill sergeant of an instructor.

    “This is for remembering my birthday when no one else did,” Zahara mused to Carolyn as she forked up a piece of cake even bigger than the one Nina had scarfed down. While the blonde had earned the class’s admiration through her snacks and willingness to exercise with them, her open ears and arms made her the perfect shoulder to lean on when things got to be too much. It also helped that hugging her was like cuddling a giant pillow full of pudding, which never hurt anyone.

    When it was finally JJ’s turn, she sauntered up to Theresa and offered up an éclair oozing with cream. The normally loopy and ditzy girl seemed much more reserved, as if she was holding something back. Finally, she leaned in and pushed the éclair into her mentor’s mouth as she murmured, “This is for helping me see it’s okay to be super-duper fat, Miss Theresa. Thank you…sincerely.”

    JJ blushed red as a pepper and sped away to eat another gummy or three to compose herself, but she need not be so anxious—Theresa was so stuffed and dazed that she could barely remember where she was, much less what anyone said to her. All the redhead knew to do in that moment was eat, eat, and eat some more, until she could hear the elastic creak in her unitard. It had been a tight squeeze getting it on, and all this rich, heavy food was not helping matters; it only served to bloat her belly further past her tits. Carolyn was faring little better, as her stomach stretched out to where it mixed with the red of her costume and made it seem like she had a kickball on her lap.

    Each dish was accompanied by a pat to their bellies, thighs, and in a couple instances, their chests, but the soccer moms were too out of it to do anything but grunt and groan with approval. They could never have expected this party would end up like this, but they were in no position to complain; how could they, being waited on by their adoring students? With little else to do, they merely opened their mouths for the next dish, and then the one after that, until the unthinkable happened an hour or two later.

    “JJ! We’re all out of food!” Vidya announced to the hostess.

    “Gee, I wonder how that could have happened,” Nina snarked, despite the chocolate sauce on her lips pointing to the third contributor.

    The brunette glanced over to where the guests of honor rested. Theresa and Carolyn were on the verge of passing out, so stuffed to the gills were they, and they said little more than the occasional burp, hiccup, or groan as their fingers worked in vain to ease the bloated feeling in their stomachs. JJ bit her lip and looked away lest she do something stupid, even by her standards.

    After clearing her throat, the brunette told the party, “I think that’s, like, plenty of food for the Wrestle Moms tonight, my dudes. I’mma order some more pizza—just, like, make sure they’re comfy, okay?”

    The girls then flocked back to their teachers and insisted they dole out shoulder massages, belly rubs, and more in an attempt to make Theresa and Carolyn comfortable. JJ got on the phone and proceeded to order plenty more pizzas while Nina hovered around her, making suggestions for extra soda and desserts. For the teachers, they felt like they were on Cloud 9 as their eager students eased the tension in their bodies and made them feel as soft as butter.

    “Best rassle party ever,” Carolyn slurred as she slumped her head back in the chair.

    “You said it,” Theresa gurgled as Vidya tipped a bottle of soda to her waiting lips.
     
  6. Aug 27, 2019 #66

    Vongola27

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    CHAPTER 33

    Halloween in Little Rock found KC and Shinobu out in the streets, taking in the Indian Summer night as they went from house to house for tricks and treats. The Osakan was quite proud of her choice in costume for the both of them, as she not only found a way to match with her friend—she had also been able to work KC’s cast into the ensemble. When they cruised down the street in search of candy, they were not professional wrestlers, but tokusatsu superheroes on a quest to gather as many sweets as possible before the forces of evil could get their hands on them.

    The companions were dressed like two of the heroes from an old (and in Shinobu’s mind, underrated) Super Sentai series—J.A.K.Q. Dengekitai. Shinobu had opted to be the sole girl on the team, Heart Queen, which meant squeezing her blubbery body into a pink spandex suit that was stretched so tight, the costume’s skirt clung to her like a pair of shorts. KC, on the other hand, was a combination of the team’s colorful leader, Big One, and the team’s greatest weapon—the Big Bomber. The wide, wounded warrior was mostly contained in matching white spandex, but her injured leg had been encased in papier-mâché and painted black to resemble a cannon. They were easily some of the most creative costumes out and about, but most houses overlooked the hard work.

    “Aren’t you two a little old for trick-or-treating?” asked one woman when the two rang her doorbell.

    “Aren’t you a little young for not minding your own business?” KC snipped back at the mother, who then shut the door on them.

    Dejected, Shinobu turned KC around and wheeled their way back down the driveway. This was one more house that had denied them any candy; their pillowcases had barely anything in them, despite being out for a good hour or so. To say it was a disappointment for the Osakan was something of an understatement, as she had been looking forward to trick-or-treating for the first time in her life, only to be denied simply because she was too old for it.

    KC must have sensed her friend’s disappointment, as she reached a hand up and placed it atop Shinobu’s. The former aerialist patted her hand and told the wrestler, “Hey, Bu, it’s okay—we’ll just try our luck on another street. I’m sure we’ll find someone who’s not a stick in the mud.”

    “I do not feel like it,” Shinobu sighed. Not even the feeling of her belly bouncing with every step could make her feel better. She had put on a few more pounds since she had last visited KC, and that would normally boost her spirits all weekend long, but dejection was getting to her; if the sensation of her belt biting into her tummy could not help her, what could?

    “Okay, how about this?” KC asked as she pulled her helmet off, allowing her obsidian locks to flow down to her shoulder and frame her cherubic face. “How about we do one of those, those…oh, what do you call ‘em? Kimodamachine!”

    Her companion cocked an eyebrow at that word-butchering and asked, “Do you mean ‘kimodameshi’?”

    “Yeah, that’s the one! The test of courage, right? How about we have one of those?” KC eagerly suggested as she clapped her hands together. She had seen plenty of examples of those from all the shows Shinobu had shown her in the last few months, and it seemed like the perfect activity for Halloween Night and for boosting her chubby companion’s spirits.

    The petite wrestler was hesitant as she put a finger to her chin and tapped. A kimodameshi could be very fun, but the mopey part of her mind reminded her that it was usually reserved for summer and in big groups. At the same time, another part of her was saying it would be the perfect opportunity to get closer to KC; should the wide woman get too scared, Shinobu could gallantly roll her to safety and show how cool she could be. Yet again, another voice popped into her head—the part that was deathly afraid of all things scary. She could only watch horror movies through her fingers, and had hidden in fear when she had gotten her first taste of ‘spooky’ wrestlers.

    One glance down at KC’s face was all Shinobu needed to make up her mind though; the earnest look in the woman’s eyes said everything. She was just trying to pick up her friend’s spirits, and who was Shinobu to refuse that? With multi-purpose butterflies in her stomach, the Osakan nodded and removed her helmet to better see her caring companion.

    “That sounds like fun,” she hummed, even as her nerves fought to get the better of her. “Where should we do it?”

    KC grinned impishly at that and chuckled, “I’ve got just the place for a test of courage—let’s get back to the car, and I’ll show you the way…”

    ***

    It turned out that the place KC had in mind was an abandoned candy factory just outside of town, where the grounds were overrun with grickle-grass, a sweet and sour smell lingered in the air, and old crows squawked day and night. According to urban legend, the factory was closed down after five kids went missing while on a tour of the facility, with some saying they had fallen into the vats and processed into chocolate, gum, taffy, and more. The boring truth was that they had simply fallen on hard times and closed up during a recession; that did not stop the rumor mill from spinning macabre stories about the place.

    After Shinobu forced her car past the security gate, the girls parked in front of the gothic factory and marveled at its imposing design. It looked less like a land of pure imagination and more like a mad scientist’s summer getaway: broken windows all over, looming smokestacks that reached to the heavens, and grandiose doors all completed the haunting appearance. The only thing that made it seem less eerie and more depressing were the words sprayed on the front: THERE WAS A HOME HERE. IT’S GONE NOW.

    “All right, we can probably go in through the main doors, but we might be able to muscle our way in,” KC explained as she wheeled up to the doors. She did not need to clarify where they would get that muscle from; Shinobu had that covered.

    The pink-clad powerhouse waddled up to the grand doors, thick thighs slapping against each other with every step, and cracked the knuckles in her plump sausage fingers. With a deep breath, she reared back and slammed against the panels with all her might. It was a move that might have broken the shoulder of anyone weaker, but between the muscle and the thick coating of pudge, Shinobu came out no worse for the wear. If anything, the doors had it worse, as they crashed open with a boom that shook several hinges free.

    “We have been muscled in,” Shinobu chuckled as she took hold of KC’s wheelchair once more.

    As they entered the dark, dingy factory, their noses picked up the faint, lingering scent of candy from ages ago; bittersweet chocolate, fruity taffy, salty caramel, and so much more hung in the air like phantoms unable to move on. It was enough to make KC’s mouth water, but not enough to stop Shinobu’s fat-slathered knees from clicking together. She never enjoyed the kimodameshi, no matter how many times she went on one or who she went with; not even KC could chase away the fear that bubbled inside her butterball belly.

    What made it all worse were the noises, as there were a surprising number for an abandoned factory. All around her were the crows squawking and chirping in their sleep, the wind whistling through the broken windows, and the machinery creaking and groaning. Every sound made the factory come to life in the most dreadful sense possible, and it only made her cling to KC’s wheelchair until her belly overlapped the top of the seat. If the grounded aerialist cared, she did not say so; if anything, her head seemed to relax even more against the tummy roll, as if it were some kind of neck pillow.

    “Okay, if I remember right, the head office was down near the far end of the factory floor,” KC explained as she shined a flashlight around them. “Let’s try to at least get that far, and then we’ll turn around and head back to the car. Sound good, Shin-chan?”

    “Yes, yes, very good,” Shinobu mumbled as she scanned left and right for anything that might be hiding in the shadows. It took every ounce of willpower to not squeak in terror every time she heard a crow squawk or the massive vats settle like an old house, and her fat-caked knees slapped together as she shivered from head to toe. When she stepped on a squeaky panel, she let out a shrill shriek and very nearly jumped out of her abundant skin.
     
  7. Aug 27, 2019 #67

    Vongola27

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    KC snickered as she tried to turn in her wheelchair as best she could, burdened though she was by her leg and her immense hips wedging her in. She grinned at her cowardly companion and asked, “You okay, Bu? Need me to hold your hand?”

    “Yes!” the wrestler squealed in a panic. Her gloved hand found its way into KC’s, and she squeezed so tight that the wounded warrior nearly winced.

    “Damn, Scooby-Bu, you really are scared,” the ebony woman remarked as she patted Shinobu’s hand. “Tell you what—let’s just turn around and…”

    Before KC could finish her thought, her nose perked up and sniffed the air. There were faint smells all around them, but this one felt stronger and more potent, almost as if it were freshly made. That was impossible: the factory had been closed for decades, all the machines were shut down, and there should have been no ingredients in the entire building. Yet she could not deny the scent of milk chocolate that graced her nose, and she found herself licking her lips.

    “Shin-chan, do you smell that?” asked KC as she peered around for any signs of where the sugary aromas came from. “Smells like someone’s making candy.”

    Shinobu’s eyes went wide as dinner plates and all the color flushed from her cheeks as KC used her free hand to roll them closer to the source of the scents. Try as she might to dig her heels in, there was no stopping KC Skye when she set her mind to something, even if it led to impending doom. What scared her was not the idea of there being candy somewhere in the facility—it was the little noises that her ears picked up as they walked through the factory. In among all the little noises here and there were the sounds of giggling children, or what she thought were children; the laughter was weird, distorted, and just…wrong.

    The two wide, wobbly wrestlers crept through the factory in search of the sweet scents that filled the air, with KC seemingly oblivious to the laughter that pursued them through the shadows. Shinobu closed her eyes and clenched her pudgy fingers as she whispered, “Yurei wa honmonode wanai…yurei wa honmonode wanai…”

    Finally, the tubby twosome reached a door labeled STORAGE 3, and the aromas were strongest there. KC grinned devilishly as she clapped her hands and rubbed them together, just aching to get her mitts on whatever lay beyond. It took some maneuvering to angle herself just right, but the former aerialist managed to reach the grimy doorknob and give it a turn. Unfortunately for Shinobu, the rusty hinges squealed as the door creaked open, revealing a vast assortment of sweets, as if the factory had never closed. Boxes of chocolates, gummies, taffy, and so much more lined the floor and walls, and it seemed to stretch on forever to the spooked fighter.

    “Jackpot!” KC exclaimed as she wheeled her way into the tasty treasure trove. “Look at this, Bu—we came in here looking for ghosts, and we found tons and tons of candy! This beats trick-or-treating any day of the week.”

    “Yes, now can we please leave?” Shinobu whimpered. Tempting as the stockade of sugary delights was, she was much more concerned with how close that laughter seemed to be. “I have a very bad feeling in my stomach.”

    The wheelchair-bound wrestler rolled her eyes and replied, “I think that might just be indigestion, Bu; you did eat half a pumpkin pie before we left.”

    There was no way her poor eating habits were to blame for the spooky sensations around them; it was all too real to be a trick of the mind. Shinobu glanced frantically around her, and she squealed in fright when she saw a faint outline slink through the shadows. Teeth chattering, the pink-clad porker grabbed her flabby friend by the shoulder and shook to get her attention. “KC! KC, there is something in here with us!”

    “Wuzzat?” the oblivious woman asked around a mouthful of chocolate. She had ignored everything going on around her in favor of cracking open a box of candy bars that glistened in the faint light of her phone.

    “I just saw something come in the door!” Shinobu shrieked as she huddled close to KC, gut jiggling as shivers ran up and down her spine. “Someone is in here with us!”

    KC shrugged off the concerns and put a candy bar in the terrified woman’s hand. “Shin-chan, it’s probably just a raccoon or something. There hasn’t been anyone in this factory for decades; the only people here are you and me. Now, try some of this chocolate before I eat it all myself.”

    The anxious brawler trembled so badly that the chocolate bar nearly fell from her fingers as she unwrapped it; when she finally ripped the gold foil from it, she crammed half of it in her mouth. Almost immediately, she felt a wave of comfort flow over her as the cocoa worked its healing magic on her fraying nerves. It was so good, she completely forgot about her worries and joined KC in sampling more of the ill-gotten candy, even as giggling followed them throughout the room.

    It was not long before Shinobu was greedily tearing into the boxes with KC, snatching up everything she could get her mitts on, and making piles of goodies for themselves in between snacks. They seemed less like seasoned veterans of the ring and more like sows squeezed into spandex, but neither one cared; the candy was too rich and sweet to pass up. Soon enough, the Osakan warrior had a ring of chocolate around her puffy lips while the former aerialist’s tongue looked tie-dyed from all the fruity treats she had consumed. Neither wrestler cared what they found; they knew it was going to be delicious, regardless of what it was.

    Shinobu had become so lost in mindless decadence that she failed to see someone slip a king-size chocolate bar into her free hand. That someone whispered to her in a croaky voice, “Here, munch this!”

    Heedless of the voice and the giggling around her, the stout girl bit off half the giant bar in one bite. A string of caramel clung to her chin as she happily munched on the hunk of chocolate, and she wolfed down the rest of the bar with equal abandon. No sooner had she finished the candy than two peanut butter cups, both the width of a CD, were placed in her hands.

    “And there, munch that!” the same voice gurgled before dissolving into giggles.

    This time, Shinobu shared in the giggling, muffled though it was as she double-fisted the peanut butter cups. They were exquisite—the perfect balance of chocolate and the creamiest, freshest peanut butter she had ever tasted in a candy. She wanted to savor the flavors but could not stop herself as she brought the chocolates up to her greedy lips again, again, and again. So engrossed was the entranced wrestler that she did not notice she had finished the peanut butter cups until she bit into a gummy bear the size of an action figure. The taste of tangy lemon-lime was enough to snap her out of her haze, and the woman giggled at the sugary treat in her hand.

    “Thank you for the candy, KC-chan, but let us slow it down, okay?” Shinobu suggested, only to realize that her companion had wheeled herself further into the room to raid a box of taffy.

    “Did you say something, Bu?” asked the grounded aerialist, barely glancing over her shoulder at her friend.

    The Osakan cocked an eyebrow and held the gummy bear for KC to see. “Didn’t you just give me this gummy bear?”

    Her ebony partner shook her head and licked her lips. “Nope—if I knew they had gummy bears that big, I would be hogging them all to myself.”

    That remark made the hairs stand up on Shinobu’s neck, and all her fears of ghosts and goblins lurking in the darkness came flooding back to her. The giggling returned to her ears, much louder and closer than it had ever been, and the terrified tubster turned pale as a sheet while she slowly turned on her heels. When she saw what had been tailing her and KC, her mouth fell open as if to scream, but not a sound came up. Standing behind her were five globs of dough in a crude humanoid shape, with lumpy feet slopping across the floor and goopy hands holding oodles of candy. They gawked at Shinobu with cold, empty eyes and toothless grins as they offered up the sweets to the frightened fighter.

    “We’re the Munchies,” they chantingly gurgled as they closed in on Shinobu, “and we’re here to make you nice and fat!”
     
  8. Sep 3, 2019 #68

    Vongola27

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    CHAPTER 34

    Shinobu’s chubby cheeks blanched as she took in the ghastly sight in front of her. The Munchies, as the creatures called themselves were hideous and looked like they had been plucked from a scary movie. She recoiled when one took a step towards her, gloppy mitts offering up a bundle of chocolate bars and caramel sauce drooling from its lips. When she feared that something was following KC and she through the factory, the wobbly wrestler could never have imagined something quite so grotesque. How she wished it was a psycho with a knife; at least then, she would understand what she was up against.

    “Shin-chan, what’s going on?” KC asked as she turned her chair around and wheeled closer. When she saw the Munchies, her eyes went wide and her hands clapped over her as Shinobu had expected. What the butterball had not expected was the squeal of glee from her Amazonian companion. “Oh my god, look at them! They’re so cute!”

    The imps tittered with laughter at her reaction and chanted, “Thank you, KC—you’re so sweet. We think you deserve a treat!”

    One of the Munchies tossed a bag of caramel creams to the wounded warrior, who snatched it out of the air and greedily tore in without abandon. Her eyes rolled back and a lusty groan escaped her lips as she crammed the sticky sweets in her cheeks. “Buuu…you’ve got to try these.”

    “KC, don’t eat that!” Shinobu cried out to her friend, but her plea went unheeded as her friend wolfed down the caramels as fast as she could. She wanted to race over to grab the bag away, but before she could shift her pudgy legs, a chocolate bar was placed in her hand.

    “Come now, Shinobu—it’s okay,” a Munchy grinned toothlessly as it patted her gloved hand. “We just want to make your day. Trick or Treats was a disappointment, but a little sugar should be the ointment!”

    The Osakan wondered what the little ghoul meant, but any question she had was lost when she crammed the candy bar in her mouth. Her worries melted away as she tasted cookies and cream, all coated in a fine layer of dark chocolate, and she gobbled up the sweet before she knew it. Thankfully, the Munchies were quick to provide her with another, then another after that, and yet another after that. This went on and on, bar after bar, until a small pile of wrappers littered Shinobu’s heels, though she paid them little mind as she mindlessly ate her way through a box of candy bars.

    Finally, the train of chocolate stopped, and the pink-clad porker found herself taking a bite of air before she realized she had run out of candy. As her senses returned to her, Shinobu put a hand to her belly and found there was much more to it than before she entered the factory. Her stomach was big, easily the biggest part of her body, but her costume had fit it comfortably earlier that night. Now, it was overlapping the belt wrapped around her meaty waist, and her love handles oozed over the sides to create a fluffy muffin top. Likewise, the strap that ran from her shoulder to her hip was pushed out by her swelling tits and gut, and she readjusted it even as the Munchies approached with more goodies.

    “Don’t stop now—have some more! All fresh from the factory floor,” the generous ghoulies told Shinobu as they held out licorice sticks for the porker.

    She stifled a belly-jiggling belch before replying, “No more, please. I think I have had enough candy for tonight.”

    “Aw, don’t be like that,” one of the Munchies clicked its nougat tongue in disappointment. It reached out a goopy hand, pinched one of her belly rolls and asked, “Don’t you want to get nice and fat?”

    Shinobu squeaked in surprise and smacked the hand away. “Y-Yes, but not this fast! If I eat all this candy, I am going to be a whale!”

    “That’s the idea, can’t you see? Why not accept it, like your friend, KC?” the doughy demons giggled as they pointed to the wheelchair-bound wrestler.

    The bulbous brawler glanced in her friend’s direction and found her gobbling up candy like a whale scarfs down krill. It was hard to gauge how much KC had gained since tearing into the sweets, given that she was sitting down, but Shinobu could tell that her friend was wider than when she rolled into the room. Her booty was seat-filling beforehand, and a good inch or three of flab hung over the side of the chair. The aerialist’s tummy had been blossoming for the last few months, but now that it was full of candy, it would have reached the middle of her thighs, were it not for the belt that held it back.

    After dumping half a bag of gummy bears in her mouth, KC hummed in blissful contentment and told her chunky companion, “Oh man, Shinobu, this is the best! These Munchies really know how to treat a lady!”

    “Think nothing of it—it’s our pleasure!” replied one of the imps as it handed the grounded acrobat a box of taffy. “Helping others is the greatest treasure!”

    “And they’re so adorable too!” KC fawned in between bites. “Shin-chan, have you ever seen anything so cute as these little guys?”

    Shinobu took another look at the Munchies at KC’s question, and found them to be nowhere near as horrifying as she first thought. They seemed so menacing before, but how could anything with such big eyes and a dopey grin be terrifying? Accepting that they were not little ghouls, the wrestler relaxed and accepted a bundle of licorice sticks from one of the critters. As she tore off chunks of the ropes, she giggled and reflected on how silly it was for her to be afraid. This was the best night ever!

    “Have some more, Shinobu,” hummed one of the Munchies as it handed the girl a bucket of caramel popcorn. “Let us know what else we can do!”

    The wrestler had to think about what sugary sweet she wanted next; having so many options available to her left her extraordinarily conflicted. Eventually, she shrugged and asked, “Could I get one of everything?”

    The Munchies giggled at the request and chanted, “One of everything, we can do—but for such a big girl, why not two?”

    They had a good point; it was so hard to be satisfied these days. Even if there were tons of candies in this place, one of each did not sound like much. Shinobu nodded and gulped down a handful of sticky caramel corn before saying, “Two…two of everything might be good. That should satisfy me, yes.”

    “Two is good, but since it’s free, why not go and make it three?” the imps suggested.

    Awash with good feeling, Shinobu nodded dumbly and licked her lips. Three was still a very small number; she could easily handle three of everything in the room. Before she could answer though, her stomach spoke up and growled like a voracious wolf. She blushed as pink as her costume and patted her tender belly as she told the Munchies, “Maybe just keep bringing me things until I say to stop.”

    “That’s the spirit! You’ve got to think big—how else are you going to get fat as a pig?” the gremlins tittered as they brought treats to the wrestler, who accepted them with open arms.

    After that, Shinobu and KC lost all track of time as they ate, ate, and ate some more, gobbling up whatever the Munchies put in their hands next. That was perhaps the most insidious part of the whole affair: not a single piece of candy was fed to the wrestlers; everything they lapped up was their own decision. All the Munchies did was enable the two with sweet after sweet, goody after goody, and watch as their generosity bore fruit, and they watched eagerly as the girls ate themselves out of their costumes.
     
  9. Sep 3, 2019 #69

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

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    “Before too long, that belt will be done,” they murmured excitedly as they heard telltale creaks and groans coming from Shinobu’s belt. “Give it five, four, three, two, one—”

    With a thunderous crack, the thick belt around Shinobu’s middle split down the side and fell to the floor amidst a pile of wrappers. Realizing the pressure at her waist was gone, the Osakan snapped out of her haze and glanced down to see that her belly was bloated to enormity—so much so that she could no longer see her feet. She used her free hand to poke at the wobbling mass, refusing to believe that such a blobby belly could be hers. The shock was not enough for her to put down the candy bar in her other hand, even as she felt behind her and realized that her booty had gotten twice as thick and gelatinous as before.

    “Thar she blows!” the Munchies cheered. “Now the hog can’t see her toes!”

    “Hog?” Shinobu murmured in between bites of chocolate. “That is not very nice.”

    “Who are we kidding? We’re done pretending—hope you don’t mind if we spoil the ending,” the little gremlins taunted as four of them circled around the blobby brawler. They took turns poking, prodding, and slapping her newfound flab, and all the dazed and bloated Shinobu could do was swat at them ineffectively. Each time she took a swipe, the Munchies ducked out of the way and slipped candy into her hands, which she inevitably gobbled up despite herself.

    Meanwhile, the other Munchie waddled over to KC, and Shinobu saw just how big her friend had gotten while they had been chowing down. The doughy demon snapped off the handles on the woman’s wheelchair, allowing her hips to spill out and graze the wheels. Her belly had broken through her belt the same time as Shinobu, and now her gut rested midway down her thighs, enough to touch the cast on her injured leg. If KC was concerned about how much weight she was putting on, she did not show it; she looked happy as a pig in mud.

    A slap to her belly snapped Shinobu back to attention, and she looked down to see the Munchies joining hands around. She whimpered nervously as they danced around her, their gooey feet slapping on the ground with each step, and they sang in tinny, gurgling voices. The terrified wrestler could only eat more and more candy as she realized how trapped she was by the imps and her weight.

    Shinobu and KC, two girls as plump as can be, wandered into our factory.

    They came in looking for a fright, to help make up for a shitty night.

    We saw those pigs and thought, ‘Let’s make their clothes nice and taut!’

    So, we made you somethings sweet, to help you lose sight of your feet.

    We gave you candy by the ton to make you both big tons of fun!

    You had such a cute, fluffy tummy, so we filled you up with something yummy.

    KC had such tubby thighs, but they could be bigger in our eyes.

    You both are pigs, that much is true, but you still have so much eating to do.

    This isn’t the end—it’s not enough! We want to make you a ball of fluff!

    If you think you’re big right now, just wait—you’ll be enormous, and how!”

    KC remained blissfully ignorant of the danger the two found themselves in, and even clapped along with the unnerving song. She laughed heartily at the Munchies, even as the one at her chair pushed her down the row of crates into the heart of the factory. “Oh, you Munchies are a riot,” the Amazon tittered as she was rolled away. “What’s next? Ooh, do you have anything with marshmallow?”

    “We have marshmallow, don’t you worry,” her corpulent caretaker chortled as it led her deeper into the candy horde. “We’re going to fill your tummy in a hurry!”

    “Sounds like a plan to me!” KC replied with a grin before turning as best she could and waving to Shinobu. “See you in a bit, Shin-chan! Mama’s going to get herself some marshmallows!”

    The Munchies around Shinobu smirked devilishly as they chanted, “Marshmallows, she shall get by the ton—and if she’s not careful, she’ll turn into one!”

    “Turn into one?” Shinobu murmured fearfully as she watched KC disappear into the darkness.

    As the Munchies giggled with malicious mirth, the Osakan gritted her teeth and threw her candy bar to the floor. She was not going to allow herself to be pushed around by these little blobs of dough, especially when her closest friend in the world was being wheeled off to God knows where. Mustering all the courage she had in her body, Shinobu forced her way past the globs of goop around her and ran as fast as she could down the row of candy. No longer would she be distracted by sweets; she was a woman on a mission, and Heaven help anyone that would stand in her way.

    Unfortunately, all the determination in the world could not hide the fact that her body was bloated beyond belief. Every step elicited a standing ovation as her flabby thighs clapped against each other, and her bulbous backside thrashed around enough to raised the skirt of her costume onto the shelf of her ass. Her gut thrashed violently, like a punk in a mosh pit, and it slapped against her thighs as she ran herself ragged in the pursuit of KC. Even her tits, the smallest part of her, proved to be a problem, as they wobbled like water balloons and bounced off the mountain of her gut.

    “I’m coming, KC—I’m coming!” the wrestler called out, her voice going ragged as she ran out of breath.

    “So’s Christmas, lardo—what’s the rush? You know your muscles are nothing but mush,” the Munchies mocked as they followed Shinobu.

    “Not listening to you,” the pint-sized brawler grunted as she forced her weary body onward. “I am not giving up on KC!”

    Sadly, it was all for naught, as Shinobu ran out of gas not two minutes later and had to prop herself against a box to catch her breath. Glancing at the contents proved to be her undoing, for there inside were her favorite goodies to pick up on road trips—snowballs, tiny little cakes with frosting inside and coconut on top. The potbellied pig could not help herself around them even at the best of times, and had been known to gorge on them when she needed comfort food. This proved to be one such occasion, as the porker broke into the crate and ravaged the packages inside like a hungry boar.

    “That’s the spirit! Go home or go big! Eat like you’re nothing but a pig!” the Munchies cheered as Shinobu stuffed cake after cake in her mouth. They slapped her across her fattening ass, but she was so engrossed with eating that it barely elicited a grunt from the wrestler. That was when they knew they had her right where they wanted her.

    Still, despite the predicament she found herself in, Shinobu could think only of KC. Even as her belly rolled down past her knees and her booty grew too big for her to stay upright, she thought of KC and what sort of hell the Munchies must be putting her through. She promised herself that after the next cake, she would get back up and pursue her again, but there was always another cake and another cake after that. There was no end in sight to the gluttony, even as her belly grew to her feet.

    “KC…KC…KC…”

    ***

    “Aw, how cute,” Agatha chuckled after helping Shinobu to the guest room bed. “She’s snorting in her sleep like a piglet.”

    “Well, she’s probably feeling like a stuck pig after gorging herself on candy,” KC smirked as she held up Shinobu’s empty pillowcase. “Would you believe this was full when we got back here? I don’t want to say we won at trick-or-treating, but we kicked ass at it!”

    Agatha grinned as she remembered how nervous and excited Shinobu had been earlier in the evening, just as the girls had been leaving. She was concerned that the Osakan would have a bad time of it, being an adult playing at being a kid, but KC and Shinobu had come home with pillowcases overflowing with candy. Just like an overeager kid, the pint-sized porker had glutted herself on sweets as soon as she could, and while they watched cheesy horror movies, she managed to finish her entire stash. This left her with a bloated, sickly stomach and a hard crash, hence why she had to be helped up to her room.

    “She reminds me of you when I used to take you trick-or-treating,” Agatha joked with her cousin as she plopped her bottom down on the couch. “How many times did I help you with a candy stomachache?”

    “More times than I care to remember,” KC chuckled as she resumed the movie they were watching earlier—The Munchies.
     
  10. Sep 17, 2019 #70

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

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    CHAPTER 35

    Halloween in the heart of the big city was a far cry from the fun and antics of suburbia, especially when the spookiest day of the year fell on a weekend. It was a night of drunken festivities, rowdy revelry, and merry mayhem that only a healthy dose of spirits could induce. Philadelphia was no exception, as costumed citizens of the Athens of America filled the streets in search of a good time. Some turned to ghost tours, some turned to bars, and some turned to haunted bar tours, but the city was buzzing with festive fiends wanting to make the most of their holiday.

    The Youngblood roster were among those out and about, with the thirsty wrestlers looking for the best place to unwind after a lackluster show. It was never fun to wrestle on a holiday, especially one specifically tied to evening festivities, and it showed in the mediocre matches that filled the two hours. The only match of any exception came from Maxine Kuhn, who, in the pursuit of legitimizing herself to the hardcore crowd, had taken a scalpel to the forehead during a bloody, no-holds-barred match against Rea Rider. By the time she staggered away from the ring, the crowd was on their feet and the mat was stained crimson, a symbol of how much the two women hated each other.

    “Oh my gawd, oh my gawd, oh my gawd, I am so sorry!” Rea cried as she wrapped her arms around her massive opponent the instant they were backstage.

    Maxine sighed and patted the other woman on the head as she assured the redhead, “Rea, honestly, I’m fine—but if you hug me any tight, you’re probably going to make me start bleeding all over again.”

    “Sorry,” Rea apologized once again, sniffling as she stepped away from Maxine.

    The giantess wondered how a crybaby like Rea Rider had ever gotten into hardcore wrestling in the first place. When they were out in the ring, the redhead was as violent as a slasher villain, but when they stepped backstage, she turned on the waterworks and would not stop apologizing. It was such an odd juxtaposition between her persona and her physique, as Rea was built like an Olympian—decent height (though nowhere near as tall as Maxine), firm body, and a healthy four-pack abdomen. She looked like she could thoroughly wreck anyone she came across, but the fact was that she cried at the drop of a hat outside the locker room.

    When the show came to a close and everyone had changed to street clothes, the Youngbloods went their separate ways for the night; some went home, some went to grab a bite to eat, and some went to get drink or five. Maxine fell into the latter category, needing a good beer to come down from her bloodbath of a match. Before she could leave, however, Tiger Lily ran up to her in the parking lot.

    “Maxine! Maxine, wait up!” the Indigenous wrestler called out to her friend and mentor.

    The giantess turned in the direction of the neophyte and smirked as Tiger Lily raced her way. She had told that girl time and again that she did not have the body for sprinting, but the girl never listened. Instead, she ran over with her belly bouncing free from her t-shirt and her breasts threatening to do the same if she was not careful. By the time she reached Maxine, the tanned girl bent over while she caught her breath.

    “What’s up, princess?” Maxine chuckled as she tossed her bag in her car. “Must be pretty important—you looked like you were trying to give Usain Bolt a run for his money.”

    “Puh…puh…party,” Tiger Lily huffed in between deep swallows of air, which made her belly swell like a bullfrog’s throat. “There’s…party…we get...got invited!”

    That piqued Maxine’s interest. Since she had joined the promotion back in September, she had worked to earn the respect of her peers, which was no easy feat; after what happened with KC Skye in July, few wanted anything to do with her. People warmed to her when she showed that she was willing to put in the work and improve, and that admiration grew even more when they saw how she carried herself in the locker room. Still, this would be a first for the brunette brawler—it would be the first time anyone besides Tiger Lily would hang out with her after a show.

    “Where’s it at?” Maxine asked, crossing her arms under her bulbous breasts.

    “It’s this awesome new club in town—Freebirds,” the stocky woman answered after catching her breath. “The place has great food, great music, and the best selection of drinks around. And the best part is that Iris’s dad owns the place, so we’re getting in for free!”

    “Iris, as in Iris Blaze? That’s…surprising,” the ample Amazon remarked as she stroked her chin.

    Iris Blaze was one of the Poison Sisters, a notorious group of divas that acted like they were still the top clique in high school and strutted around like they owned the locker room. Maxine had stood up to them ever since she first joined the promotion, unwilling to be pushed around by a bunch of skinny minis who thought the world revolved around them. It seemed that they finally learned their lesson, as the Poisons had kept their distance from the brawler and cut back on picking on the other wrestlers. But to think that they would include Maxine and Tiger Lily for a party? That was more surprising than if Sadie were to come crawling back to her gargantuan ex.

    “Right? But we’re on the list, so I say we head on over,” Tiger Lily suggested to her mentor.

    “Yeah, I don’t know about that,” Maxine replied with a shake of her head. “I mean, I’m feeling kinda tired—plus, I did get stabbed in the head tonight. I’ll just see you tomorrow at the gym, okay?”

    Before the massive woman could get in her car, however, her protégé stepped in her way and slammed the door shut. The Shawnee girl looked up at her with pleading eyes, the same a child might use when they want to get a treat from the grocery store. She clapped her hands together and all but fell to her knees in front of Maxine.

    “Maxine, please! This is the first time we’ve gotten this chance, and we’ve just got to show up! Who knows the next time we get an opportunity like this? Pleeeeease,” Tiger Lily begged.

    With a hearty sigh, Maxine put a hand on the younger wrestler’s shoulder and told her, “All right, fine, I’ll go with you if it means this much. Just don’t expect me to do much socializing; I don’t think the rest of the locker room will want me there…”

    ***

    “There she is—the Ass-Kicker herself, Maxine Kuhn!”

    A raucous cheer went up from the Youngblood wrestlers as Maxine and Tiger Lily walked into Freebirds, which all but floored the brawler. She had expected to walk in and slip away in the crowd, but as soon as she entered the club proper, it was like a spotlight had been placed on her. The DJ had announced her arrival to the entire club, and the other wrestlers in attendance whooped and hollered as she stood frozen in place. With a little tugging from Tiger Lily, the ample Amazon snapped back to attention and stumbled towards the rest of the party. There was no chance of running away at this point; she could only grin and bear it.

    “Glad you girls could make it!”

    “Come on, take a seat—you must be exhausted after that match earlier.”

    “You ever had Witch’s Brew? Dude, you’ve got to try this stuff—it’s amazing!”

    The swarm of well-wishers and greeters floored the bulbous behemoth; it was the exact opposite reaction she had expected. She knew that the others were warming up to her, but she had not expected to be treated like the life of the party. It was refreshing, especially after a rough few weeks when she first joined, but Maxine was now having the exact opposite problem—there was too much going on for her. An itch ran up her spine as her nerves began to fray and she scanned the room for an out. Finally, her eyes settled on an empty spot at the bar, the perfect place for her.

    “Hey, you know what sounds good right now? Shots! I’m heading to the bar to place an order for everyone—on me!” Maxine declared, which earned her many more appreciative pats and cheers as she extricated herself from the crowd. When she reached the bar, she quickly waved over the bartender and offered up her card. “Let me get a couple dozen whiskey shots for the tables that-a-way.”

    The bartender nodded and quickly got to work pouring out the drinks, which gave Maxine a chance to catch her breath and take a seat. She put her hand in her chin as she wondered why she even bothered coming in the first place; Tiger Lily could put on some great puppy eyes, but the panic bubbling in her belly was not worth it. Her teeth ground together and her fist clenched while she fought back the anxiety flowing through her, but thankfully, she found a suitable distraction.
     
  11. Sep 17, 2019 #71

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

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    “Maxine!” Rea Rider called out as she walked over to the bar. “Hey girl, we were wondering where you went off to. You feeling okay?”

    The bulky brawler slapped on a tired grin and answered, “Yeah, of course—I’m just waiting for the drinks. I’ll be over in a bit, don’t worry.”

    The redhead pursed her lips and bounced on her heels before replying, “You’re not a great liar, you know that?”

    Taken aback, Maxine fumbled, “I’m…seriously, Rea, I’m doing fine.”

    “The fact that you’re clenching your fist so hard that you’re about to draw blood says otherwise.”

    Looking down at her fist and realizing that was true, the Amazon sighed and released her fist. “Sorry—I’m just not great with crowds right now.”

    “Hey, I get it,” Rea retorted as she walked closer and nodded to the empty seat beside Maxine. “Mind if I join you for a bit? I need a little breather myself.”

    The bulbous brunette nodded, and her opponent mere hours ago gingerly slid in. They sat in silence for a moment or two, with Rea drumming her fingers on the bar and Maxine drawing circles on a drink menu. It was not as though they had nothing to talk about; there was a whirlwind of thoughts running through their heads. The problem was mustering up the courage to actually bring it up.

    Finally, the redhead broke the ice and asked, “So, how are you finding Philly?”

    “It’s…nice,” Maxine mumbled before tossing the drink menu over her shoulder. “Actually, screw it—Rea, I need to talk before I pull my hair out and scream.”

    That took the woman by surprise. In the short time she had known Maxine Kuhn, she had never seen her without a confident swagger, but here she was, looking utterly exhausted and panicked at the same time. Rea quickly nodded and told her companion, “Of course! Talk to me; I’m all ears.”

    The bulbous woman took a deep breath and began, “Okay, so…whatever I come off as in the locker room is all for show. I’m trying to get better, but I was an absolute mess before I was sent out here; just look at my last few matches before the botch. Everything I do is about improving myself and making sure I don’t slip again, and I’m scared to death that I’ll make a mistake and it will all be over for me. And when I see everyone on the card hanging out, having a good time, all I can think is how not to disappoint them or make a huge ass of myself.”

    Maxine paused, her chest bulging as she took steadying breaths to offset the nerves that were fraying like a rope. “I was brought up way too soon, but they wanted a giant woman, so they got a giant woman. But because I was some dumb, stupid rookie, I let it all go to my head and fell in with someone that couldn’t give less of a fuck about me if they tried. I allowed myself to become whatever they wanted me to be, and, well…this is it. You’re looking at the end product of a two-year relationship.”

    Her hands fell on her gut and she glared at the lump of fat that oozed out onto her lap. While it was slightly smaller than it had been and definitely firmer, it might as well have been the size of a hot air balloon. Maxine slapped the protruding pile of pudge and sank her fingers in as though she could choke the life out of it. If hate and loathing could melt the pounds away, the Amazon would have looked like Twiggy by now.

    “My ex wanted a fat, submissive plaything, so that’s what I let myself become,” Maxine growled as she turned to Rea, who was shell-shocked by the admission. “I used to look like you, y’know—I was never shredded, but I had definition and tone. Now, I need a dictionary to find any definition on my fat ass, and you might as well call me ‘Copier’, because I need tone something fierce.”

    With a grunt, the Amazon turned in her seat and tugged her shirt up over the swell of her gut, exposing the tanned glob to her opponent. Maxine grabbed a handful and gave it a violent shake before looking to Rea and telling her, “Look at this! Really get a feel—that’s what giving up feels like.”

    “O-O-Okay,” the redhead mumbled while she gingerly reached a hand out and brushed against Maxine’s pudge.

    “No, no, no,” the brunette groused as she took Rea by the wrist and planted her hand right on top of her belly. “Get yourself a good handful, and tell me you think that this is worth all the pain that bitch put me through.”

    Rea was now as red as the mat after her and Maxine’s match that night, but she squeezed the flab as instructed. Contrary to what its owner might claim, it did not feel like despair or helplessness—quite the opposite, really. When she gripped it, the woman was reminded of a doll she had as a child: it was a floppy thing that was filled with some sort of gel; it was supposed to help with her anxiety and stress. Squeezing Maxine’s flab reminded her of that, and she imagined holding onto the bulbous woman after a long day.

    “Yeah, that’s…that’s pretty crazy,” the redhead murmured as she pulled her hand away, lest she hold on any longer. “How did it happen?”

    Maxine sighed as she pulled her shirt back down, though a strip of flab was still left on display, much to Rea’s pleasure. “She was damn good at making me want it. If I ate enough food, she would, well…she’d fuck my brains out. When I let her film me doing stuff like ripping clothes or breaking cheap furniture, she’d make me come so hard, I’d sleep like a log. She’s the worst kind of person, but damned if she wasn’t good at rewarding me for a job well done—the cunt.”

    Rea fidgeted in her seat as she pondered everything Maxine told her, especially the parts about getting fucked senseless. It all sounded completely insane, like something out of a tacky erotica, but something about it made her squirm like nothing else had in a long while. It felt so vivid to her: the fat, the bursting clothes, and the food; everything Maxine told her danced around in her head like mischievous little pixies.

    “That…yeah, that sounds awful,” the redhead murmured as her eyes fell to her own waistline. She was so close to getting that vaunted six-pack, but now, all she could imagine was having a potbelly that filled her lap and an ass that needed two barstools to sit properly. It was a fantasy that made Rea’s mouth dry, and she licked her lips without even realizing it.

    Maxine was not entirely oblivious to her companion’s plight. She raised her eyebrows in concern and asked, “You okay? I know I hit you with a chair earlier, but I didn’t think I hit you that hard.”

    “Wha?” Rea asked dazedly before shaking her head to clear out the thoughts. “I was just…thinking.”

    “About how crazy that all was? Well, sorry for unloading on you like that,” the brunette chuckled as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Tell you what, why don’t I buy you a drink as a thanks for listening?”

    Rea nibbled on her bottom lip before replying, “Maybe you could buy me dinner instead?”

    The question made Maxine pause, and she finally noticed the state of her opponent—the look in her eyes and the way she fidgeted in her seat. It was a state Sadie had often left her in, usually after stroking up her thighs underneath the table as she ate to the point of bursting. The Amazon felt her breath catch in her throat when she realized that Rea was not perturbed by what she had told her.

    “Are…are you sure?” asked Maxine as her heart hammered like a drum solo.

    Rea nodded eagerly as she wriggled her toned bottom on the barstool. “I have no idea what it is, but I really want to know what could make a woman like you and me get so fat. I…I want you to show me, Maxine—show me how it happened to you.”

    Without thinking, Maxine replied, “All right…but you’d better have a good appetite…”
     
  12. Oct 8, 2019 #72

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

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    CHAPTER 36

    Maxine had no idea what she was doing; it was as though her body was on autopilot, and her brain was along for the ride. One minute, she was locking lips with Rea Rider at the bar, and then, they were off to pick up a pizza, soda, and desserts. The ride back to her apartment went by quicker than she thought, what with the anticipation bubbling in her bulbous chest and the constant kisses with her companion. Were it not for the late dinner they were carrying, the two women would have been all over each other up to the apartment door. Thankfully, they were able to make it inside before they overheated and dropped everything they were holding.

    Why was she so into this? Maybe it was Maxine was lonely and looking for some company. Maybe she needed something to bounce back from the heartache she still felt whenever she thought of Sadie. Maybe, and this was the thought that stuck with her the most, she wanted to feel powerful again. When she had been with Sadie, the bruiser lost all sense of identity; she had allowed herself to become weak, flabby, and soft in every definition of the word. The last two months had seen her working to gain that aspect of herself, and maybe, just maybe, dig up some of that courage she had in her prime.

    When the giantess let go of Rea, she looked down into the powerhouse’s emerald eyes and found them sparkling with desire and hunger. Had she looked like that whenever Sadie pleasured her? If so, she was beginning to understand what drove that harpy.

    “That’s a hell of a look you’ve got, Rider,” Maxine growled playfully as she rested her hands on Rea’s thick, firm hips.

    “What can I say?” the redhead puffed as she caught her breath. “You’re pretty good at this.”

    The Amazon chuckled, which made her belly bounce like a bowlful of jelly. She licked her lips and told her companion, “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet; we haven’t even gotten to the best part of the evening, after all.”

    Rea glanced over her shoulder at the extra-large pizza that sat on the counter, the two liter bottle of soda that sat beside it, and the molten chocolate cakes on the other side. It was enough food for three or four people, but it was all for her; the thought of all that going into her tummy made her head swim. Doubt nagged at the back of her mind, and she feared that she could not keep up with the pace of her partner, but she still felt that hunger clawing at her all the same.

    “I…I don’t know,” the ultraviolent crybaby murmured, glancing away from Maxine as her nerves took hold.

    Fortunately, her Amazonian companion was not about to let her drift away. She gently took hold of her chin and turned her head until they were eye to eye once more. When Rea saw the warm, commanding look in Maxine’s eyes, she felt her heart skip a beat. It was the same look she had when she was in the ring—a look that said, “I’ve got this.”

    “A little too fast for you, princess?” asked the brunette brawler. When Rea meekly nodded in answer, she grinned and told her, “Don’t you worry about a thing—I’ll take it from here. Why don’t you go sit that cute butt of yours down while I get things ready?”

    Rea steadied herself by putting a hand on Maxine’s massive stomach, but she nodded again and shuffled off to the couch. Her playmate shook her head and smirked, seeing so much of herself in the redhead; the only difference was that she was not about to take advantage of those nerves like her ex had done to her. No, Maxine was going to do this right—she would show Sadie how a lover was supposed to be.

    The bulbous bruiser sauntered into the kitchen, a confident swagger in her thick hips as they swished back and forth, and she gathered up the take-out. A playful hum escaped her lips while she made her way out to her living room, gut bouncing in time with her steps. When she saw Rea sitting ramrod straight on the couch, fingers squeezing her knees, Maxine could not help but chuckle.

    “Sorry, sorry,” the hardcore wrestler murmured as she tried in vain to relax her posture. “I’m just…it’s been a while for me, and I’ve never done anything like this before, and—”

    “Rea, baby, hush,” Maxine cooed as she set the pizza and soda down on the table before them. She towered over the redhead, which only served to fluster the anxious Rea further. “I’d love to feed you all this yummy, yummy pizza, but I can’t very well do that if your tummy is all full of butterflies. Lie down for me, sweetie.”

    Rea nodded slowly and shifted around until she was flat on her back, head propped up by a pillow. Maxine then knelt down beside her and gently pulled her shirt up, exposing her companion’s toned, firm stomach. The tanned titan licked her lips at the impressive display of muscle, and she traced a finger in the contours of Rea’s abs.

    “Let’s see,” she hummed as she drew a lazy path, “I count one, two, three, four abs. Not bad, Rea, not bad at all…but you don’t really want those, do you?”

    “I…don’t?” the wrestler mumbled, shivering at the touch of her gentle partner.

    Maxine shook her head and answered, “No. Think about it: abs are firm, hard, and unmoving; you can’t squeeze them or play with them, at least not as much as blubber.”

    Before the redhead could reply, she squeaked as her companion pinched the little softness just above her hips. While Maxine rolled it in her fingertips, she purred, “Now, a good belly or even some love handles…those are the best. They let you hold tight to your lover as you have your way with them, and that’s just the start of it.”

    Rea had no idea what had come over either of them, but she was not about to complain; if anything, she wondered why neither of them had done this sooner. Though she would never admit it, the wrestler had been fascinated with curves, and while she often wondered what she would look like if she let herself go, she could never bring herself to do so. She would look out into the audience and see fans of all shapes and sizes, but she never dared to follow through on her desire to put on even a few extra pounds. Even if it was only for tonight, Maxine was going to indulge her base desires, and Rea trembled at the possibilities.

    “Open wide,” the brunette told the awestruck woman as she dangled a piece of pizza in front of her.

    Without a second thought, Rea opened her mouth and allowed Maxine to slide half the slice in before she bit it off. Her diet would not allow her to indulge in pizza except for cheat days, but she had never had pizza quite as good as this. The flavors washed over her tongue like a wave; between that and Maxine’s gentle fingers at her waist, Rea could not help but groan as pleasure bubbled up inside her.

    “Good, right?” the giantess purrs as she continued to feed the slice to her eager partner. “Food tastes even better when pleasure’s involved. I should know—you don’t get a fat ass like mine without eating right.”

    After Rea wolfed down her current slice, Maxine opened the massive bottle of soda and tilted it to her lips. The redhead gingerly sipped from the bottle, not wanting to come off as greedy despite how much she absolutely wanted to guzzle down the sugary concoction. Once she had gotten a good drink, Maxine pulled the soda away, popping the bottle out from Rea’s lips. She brought a finger down, wiped up a stray drop from her demure partner’s cheek, and licked it from her fingertip.

    “Mmm…that’s good,” the bulbous brunette hummed as she picked up another slice and slid it into Rea’s mouth. “You know, I’m really not supposed to have soda right now—all that sugar and carbonation isn’t good for my diet.”

    “You’re on a d-d-diet?” Rea mumbled around a mouthful of sauce and cheese.
     
  13. Oct 8, 2019 #73

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

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    Maxine nodded before feeding the redhead the rest of the slice and rising to her feet. She ripped her jacket off and tossed it away, and then proceeded to do the same with her shirt. The sight of the abundance of flab made Rea turn as red as a tomato, and she bit her lip when she saw Maxine’s gut bounce free from her top. That belly was perfectly round, as if she had swallowed a beach ball whole, and though it was marred by a few angry stretch marks across its girth, the flustered Rea had never seen anything quite so desirable.

    “I’ve lost about fifteen pounds since I’ve moved out here. It’d probably be more, but I’ve put on about ten pounds of muscle,” the brunette boasted proudly as she flexed one of her beefy arms. A few months prior, such a display would have been laughable—a clear sign of how much she had let herself go. Now, clear definition was forming underneath the cushion of pudge, which made Maxine look more like a weightlifter than a slob.

    “That’s…wow,” Rea murmured as she snatched up a slice and stuffed it in her mouth.

    “But I’ve still got a long way to go before I’m back to my prime,” Maxine hummed while she turned, giving her blushing beau a good look at how her backside filled out her jeans. She glanced over her shoulder at Rea, who was shoveling in pizza as fast as she could, so entranced was she. Smirking, the giantess gave her hefty hips a wobble and clapped her hands on her ample cheeks. “What do you think, Rea?”

    The hardcore brawler was at a loss for words as she watched Maxine jiggle her behind, and her mind was torn between wanting to sink her hands in there and wanting that for herself. She could only imagine what it would be like if she switched places with the massive woman; all that weight piling onto her body and turning her into a lumbering behemoth. It should have revolted her, but Rea could only groan with desire at the thought.

    Maxine must have been a mind reader, as she turned back to face the redhead and put her hands on her flabby flanks. She purred like the cat that ate the canary, “Now, let me see what I’m working with here. You just keep eating, sweetie—I’ll do all the heavy lifting.”

    Rea lay back and alternated between pizza and soda while Maxine tugged her blouse up past her plump breasts and just below her neck. The giantess toyed with the front hook for a moment before releasing the clasp, allowing the redhead’s chest to fall free. She cooed, “My, my, my…for how hard and firm the rest of your body is, you do have some nice curves, Rea. A shame you don’t get much of a chance to show them off in the ring; that would be a hell of a way to distract your opponents.”

    “I couldn’t,” Rea murmured in between bites. “Not in front of all those people.”

    “Maybe not in front of everyone, but I sure wouldn’t mind getting to see them more often,” Maxine hummed as she squeezed one of the redhead’s pillowy breasts. The gentle press made Rea hiss like a burst of steam, and she squirmed atop the couch. “But now, let’s see what’s going on below the belt.”

    The bulbous brunette took her time unbuttoning her companion’s pants, her fingers grazing the soft skin and panties underneath. When it came to slide them off, all Maxine had to do was trace her finger up Rea’s abdomen, and she arced her body up off the sofa. This gave the would-be feeder the perfect chance to tug the slinky black jeans off, exposing firm, pale thighs dotted with freckles.

    “God, and you’ve already got some thick thighs,” the bruiser cooed as she stroked a finger down the length of Rea’s bare leg. She could feel the contours of the woman’s powerful legs, tracing along muscles that could crush watermelons with ease. “Of course, I like them with a little more meat.”

    “How…how much bigger?” Rea groaned after taking a long draught from her soda.

    “As big around as your waist,” Maxine answered with a dusky murmur in her voice. “When you walk, they ought to be clapping together like a standing ovation. They should be so flabby, they run out of room and start to pour over your knees. If I wanted to go down on you, I would need to go diving for that pearl.”

    The remark, and the look in Maxine’s eye that showed she was very serious, made Rea squeak and rub her thighs together. It was hard to imagine being so rotund, but her corpulent companion made it so much easier, no doubt because she lived it. Again, the redhead fantasized about what it would be like if the massive woman were to shed all her pounds and give them to her. Given the height difference between them, it would only serve to make Rea look even fatter than she really was.

    “But that’s only a little bit of you,” Maxine purred, her exploratory fingers massaging Rea’s hips. “We both know you’re the whole package, so I want you to imagine the rest of you filling out.”

    “Mmhmm,” the redhead moaned around almost an entire slice of pizza.

    The brunette drew lazy circles around Rea’s abs before returning to the little bit of fluff that hovered just above her waist. She whispered, “Your abs are nice, but wouldn’t it be nicer if they were a big, gooey belly like what I’ve got? Think about that: you, waddling here and there—and yes, you would absolutely be waddling—with a great, big gut leading the way. People would ask you when you were due, and all you could say to them is that you were not actually pregnant—you’re just a tub of lard that can’t help but eat.

    “Of course, you having a pair of fat, bloated udders wouldn’t help with that,” Maxine purred as her hands cupped Rea’s aching breasts. “These are so soft already, but look—I can still hold them in one hand. That won’t do: we need to get you to the point where I need both hands just to hold one of these bowling balls. They’ll be so big, you could use them as weapons in the ring; they’d be a couple of wrecking balls.”

    Just as Rea felt herself reaching a peak, Maxine released her breasts, only to grab one of the chocolate cakes from the table while the other hand held onto the couch. The brunette winked down at her conquest and swung one meaty leg over the redhead while the other helped propel her up to the sofa. Rea’s eyes went wide as she felt some of Maxine’s ample weight settle on her thighs, and her heart caught in her throat when she caught the look the massive woman gave her. It was the same look a cat might give a mouse when it was playing with it before the kill, and it made the tender heart tremble with excitement.

    “Those sharp cheekbones of yours? Gone, buried under chubby chipmunk cheeks,” Maxine purred as she rocked atop the woman’s lap and spooned cake past Rea’s lips. “Those firm, hard arms of yours will be swaddled in blubber, so thick that they’d be as wide as your thighs right now. There would not be a single skinny inch on your body; you would be a whale, tip to tail. When people see you, they would never think you used to be a decathlete; all they would see is a balloon of a girl who let herself go.”

    Rea could feel her brain frying like an egg as Maxine described just how huge she could become if she let it happen. It was a scintillating concept, one that made her ache and tremble the more in depth the brunette went, but the rational part of her brain was putting up a fight; a losing fight, but a fight nonetheless. She told herself that she could not afford to get fat, that she did not want to lose the body she had spent years honing, but in her frenzied state, all she could focus on was how good Maxine’s fingers felt on her skin and how delicious the food was. The rich pizza, the sugary soda, and the creamy cake were all things she had been denying herself, but if she so chose, she could have them all the time and be rewarded for gorging on them.

    It was a no-brainer. Rea snatched the bottle of soda and downed the rest before tossing the empty container away. Her hands greedily snatched up a thick swath of Maxine’s belly and gave it a hearty squeeze, which brought a shocked gasp from the bulbous brunette. The redhead felt herself slipping into the more confident role she held in the ring, and she growled to her feeder, “I want it, Maxine…god, I want it so bad.”

    “You want to get fat for me?” the giantess asked, her heart beating like a Buddy Rich solo as she shoved another spoonful into the redhead. “How fat do you want to get?”

    “As fat as you want,” Rea groaned as she squirmed beneath the brunette. “I don’t care if I weight two hundred or five hundred; just keep working your magic!”

    Maxine stifled a moan before leaning over the redhead, her doughy belly squishing against the muscular woman’s abs. “Then you’re in luck, because the bigger you get, the better this gets. You show me you want to get fatter, and I’ll take you to places you’ve never been.”

    Rea trembled with pent-up desire, teetering on the verge of a plummet, yet the tiny voice in her head still persisted. That voice was finally silenced when Maxine whispered seven words in her ear—seven words that sent her careening over the edge. She murmured, “Congratulations, fat girl—you ate it all!”
     
  14. Oct 15, 2019 at 2:44 AM #74

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

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    CHAPTER 37

    Mickey and Ray had been waiting on Halloween Night for what felt like months. They had been invited to a party that evening, but it was no ordinary party; it was arranged for feeders and feedees in the area. Though Mickey had not been cooped up like Howard Hughes in her apartment, she was getting bored of keeping the socializing to a minimum. She was an extrovert, and she drew energy from getting out and about with people. While it was nice to do things like take a cruise or attend her cousin’s wrestling shows, she needed something more.

    That was what the FAs of Albuquerque offered. Ever since Ray began uploading her progress (anonymously, per the arrangements she made with Mr. Ericson), Mickey had been getting to know countless people in the community. While there were plenty of unsavory types, she had also found incredibly supportive people who not only complimented and praised her girth, but also offered tips on stores to shop at and exercise that would help her bulk up. The lardy Latina relished the companionship, but unfortunate timing and the need to remain incognito kept her from pursuing anything further with the group. When she received the invitation to attend their annual Halloween party, however, she could not deny herself any longer.

    “Raymundo, we are attending this party, one way or the other,” the punk princess announced as she held her phone out for her loving manager to see.

    The beefy man accepted the phone and scrolled through the e-vite, reading it aloud as he went. “‘Hope everyone’s ready for another Spooktacular night of stuffing and sweets! Randy and Liz are hosting the party this year, and since we’ve picked up a bunch of new members this year, we’d love to take this opportunity to get to know everyone better. We’ll be holding a costume contest once again: one for the men, one for the women, and one for couples; the winner of each gets to take home a very special prize! Refreshments will be provided and guests are welcome, but please RSVP if you plan on bringing anything extra. Looking forward to seeing all our favorite ghouls and ghosts!’”

    Ray frowned and told his plump partner, “I don’t know, Mick—this might blow our cover.”

    “Ray, it’s a Halloween party; it’s the one time a year when it’s okay to wear a mask all night long. Besides, is it any riskier than going to the store or the gym?” asked Mickey as she put her hands on her meaty hips.

    “Yeah, but that’s by being around perfect strangers just a little bit at a time,” the stocky man retorted. “Here, we’re going to be surrounded by all sorts of people all night long. All it would take is for one of them to recognize you, and you lose everything; Dave would fire us in a heartbeat.”

    Mickey smirked like an evil genius hatching a plan and told her lover, “Then I guess I’d better make sure my mask stays on all night, huh?”

    Raymundo sighed, knowing this would go Mickey’s way just like usual; the butterball had a way of getting what she wanted. Perhaps that was because she embodied the old joke about the 600-pound gorilla—she got to do whatever she wanted because who was going to tell the 350-pound porker she could not? While she had always been stubborn and steadfast, her rapidly increasing weight only made her bolder and more daring, to the point that Ray worried she would want to blab about her growth any day now. At the same time, he knew that she was feeling cooped up in the apartment, and no amount of Skyping with her friends or meeting with her cousin would cure that. Mickey needed companionship, and who better to provide it than people who knew and supported her on this crazy journey?

    “All right, amor, but first things first—you’ll need to get a costume,” the beefy manager replied as he handed back the phone.

    “I’ve already got that covered, mi granjero guapo,” La Princesa Violenta hummed as she locked her plump hands behind her back. She turned on her heel and waddled out of the room, thick backside quaking with each plodding step.

    Ray chuckled and shook his head before confusion hit him. He glanced over his shoulder at his rotund, retreating wrestler and mumbled, “Handsome farmer?”

    That was back at the start of September. A couple weeks later, the first part of Mickey’s costume was revealed: a luchador’s mask resembling a pig, which she wore to her cousin’s first show for Dare-Devil Wrestling. It was much more elaborate than a simple pig mask, with a stylized snout printed over the nose and white lenses over the eyes to hide her identity, but the resemblance was still there, and that made all the difference. At the time, Mickey dubbed herself ‘La Cerdita’, and she stuck with the name as the rest of her costume came to her.

    The trick had been gauging just how big the gear needed to be, as the punk wrestler needed to continue her gains, costume parties be damned. Thankfully, Ray was a whiz when it came to estimating, so the costume proved to be pleasantly snug on her overfed body, as opposed to bursting at the seams. Granted, putting on the tights still involved a lot of struggling and squeezing, but Mickey was delighted when she saw her reflection.

    Standing before her was neither the leather jacket and denim-clad brawler of last year, the chubby bunny at the start of the summer, nor the pudgy princess that went to Bermuda. Instead, the woman standing in the mirror was like an avatar of gluttony—a rotund caricature of a wrestler who spent more time eating than she did in the ring. The porcine mask clung tight to her chubby cheeks and thick double chin, hammering home the transformation immediately. This trailed down to a sleeveless pink crop top that concealed her softball-sized breasts and little else, which left her fluffy biceps and mammoth belly exposed for all the world to see.

    Once trim arms had given way to pillows of flab that were thicker around than her thighs used to be and were slowly encroaching on her elbows. The tidal wave of pudge was held back by elbow-length pink gloves with black fingers that made Mickey’s hands look like a pig’s hoof. From there, her gargantuan gut made itself known and jutted forth from her waist like a sack full of pudding. It draped down over the waistband of her tights and bounced against the top of her thighs with every step she took. Mickey caressed it like a proud mother and gave it a gentle pat, proud of how bulbous her belly had grown in just half a year.

    Her hands slowly found their way to her hefty hips, which were beginning to brush against doorframes—something that made her heart flutter every time. A pair of pink tights barely contained her lower body, and she found herself constantly readjusting in the back, lest her booty escape its confines. The punk princess swore her ass had a mind of its own sometimes, as it constantly looked for things to knock over or shove aside—things that were happening more and more as it expanded to beachball size. Her pillar thighs did not help matters either, as they rubbed together so much that several pants and jeans had been worn out from top to bottom. Even her feet seemed thicker, as if her little piggies wanted to match the rest of her, and they filled her black boots perfectly.

    “You about ready, cerdita?” Ray called out from the bedroom.

    “You bet your oinkin’ ass, I’m ready,” Mickey snorted in hoggish glee before waddling out to the bedroom to get a look at her granjero guapo.

    The manager’s costume was much less elaborate than his lover’s, though no less appropriate and fitting. He wore a simple pair of overalls, boots, and a straw hat—nothing else was needed for the farmer image. The look highlighted two big changes for Ray: he had grown out a thick, coarse beard over the last month and a half, though he would shave it the following day, and his muscles were becoming much more prominent as his efforts to bulk up continued. Gone was the portly man of yesteryear, who filled his suits out with a doughy belly and flabby pecs, and in his place was a man who looked like he could actually go a few rounds in the ring.

    Ray let out a low, appreciate whistle as he watched his lardy lover shuffle into the room, her belly quivering like gelatin in an earthquake. He crossed his arms underneath his firm chest and remarked, “Maldita sea…eres una cerda gorda.”

    “Gracias, mi amor,” Mickey purred as she sauntered up to her partner and wrapped her arms around him. She pulled him close, squishing him against her soft stomach, and cooed, “Y eres un buen pedazo de culo tu mismo.”

    The two chuckled as they leaned in for a kiss, her butter-soft cheeks brushing against his mangy beard, and they stayed like that for a moment before pulling apart. Ray sank his fingers into his princess’s flabby flanks before whispering, “I have a surprise for you before we go—a couple little things to complete your costume.”
     
  15. Oct 15, 2019 at 2:46 AM #75

    Vongola27

    Vongola27

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    Mickey’s eyes went wide behind her mask and she excitedly wondered what else she needed to finish her look. Ray spun her around and leaned in to murmur, “Close your eyes, gordita.”

    The wall of blubber nodded and shut her eyes, thinking of what her thoughtful manager could have gotten for her. She could feel something soft and silky wrapping around her waist, and she hummed in contentment when she felt him pull her tights back. After he clipped something onto the rear, he let it snap back against her like a rubber band, causing the porky princess to squeal in shock.

    “Okay, open your eyes,” Ray told her as he stepped away.

    When the Violent Princess did so, she gasped like a child on Christmas morning with a new toy underneath the tree. Wrapped around her waist was a combination of a title belt and a blue ribbon, and clipped to the back of her tights was a curly tail that wiggled right alongside her bouncy backside. It really did complete the appearance of a pretty porker, and the widening wrestler hopped up and down in excitement, which sent tremors through her bedroom.

    “Oh baby, I love it! It’s just what this little piggy needed,” Mickey told her lover as she gave him a warm peck on the cheek. “I’ve got half a mind to make this my ring gear when I get back.”

    “I think it’ll take a lot of convincing to get Dave behind that,” Ray chuckled as he embraced his hefty honey. It was getting harder to reach around her ballooning girth, and it was only a matter of time before his hands could no longer touch. The thought would have set off alarms for some, but the meaty man had fallen deep into the world of weight gain, and he could only hope that day came soon.

    They stayed in each other’s arms for what felt like an eternity, her enjoying the feel of his firming muscles and him relishing the feel of her creamy flab. Truthfully, they could have stayed like that all night long, but they had a party to attend and guests to pick up. The two released each other, only to give one last squeeze before they grabbed the last of the things for the night and dashing out the door. At least, Ray was dashing; Mickey was following behind with a power walk that made her look like a trundling elephant.

    ***

    “You’re late,” Maggie grumbled as she sauntered toward Ray’s car. “You lose your watch somewhere in your rolls?”

    “You know that I don’t have to bring you, right?” Mickey retorted. “I could always leave your culo home tonight, puta.”

    Maggie rolled her eyes and sighed like a petulant child, which went perfectly with her costume for the night. The girl had a tradition of wearing slutty costumes ever since senior year of high school, and this year was no different. She was dressed like a schoolgirl, complete with plaid skirt, blazer, and blouse, and her dirty blonde hair was done up in braided pigtails. The blouse was pulled up and tied underneath her bosom, and the skirt had been cut to the point that the bottom of her cheeks were exposed. It was a look that would have revealed a lithe, sensual form just a few months prior, but freedom to drink and party the night away and done wonders for her physique.

    Tying off her blouse beneath her breasts pushed her bloated tits up and out, and they threatened to ooze free of their cotton confines if Maggie so much as leaned forward. Likewise, her cheeks had grown gelatinous and wobbled so much that her skirt was constantly hiking up her backside. Most impressive was the potbelly that spilled over the waistband of her skirt, and how it looked perfectly round from top to bottom. It was as though she had swallowed a bubble, and every breath made it swell in and out like a bullfrog’s throat. Too much Snake Venom had destroyed her toned tummy, replacing it with a bulbous beer belly that belonged on an ex-jock, not a twenty-something wrestler at the start of her career.

    “God, they better have good snacks at this place,” the young Torres groused as she turned back to her apartment building. “Sharon, come on! We’re going to be late!”

    “C-Coming!” the meek redhead called back while shuffling out the door.

    Maggie and Sharon complimented each other perfectly that evening, as the bespectacled wrestler was dressed like a teacher straight out of a rock n’ roll music video. She wore a pencil skirt that only went to the middle of her thighs and clung like a second skin, fishnet stockings that squeezed her legs, and a blouse that barely contained her sensual chest. Maggie put on the finishing touch when her partner drew close, as she reached out and undid the top button on her blouse, exposing a generous amount of cleavage.

    “Maggie!” the redhead squeaked in surprise while covering herself. “At least give me a heads-up!”

    “Come on, Share-Bear, it’s like I always say—when you’ve got it, flaunt it!” the doughy drunkard chuckled as she pushed her bosom up, ignoring how her belly eclipsed it by a country mile.

    Sharon mumbled something incoherent before sliding into the backseat of Ray’s car, a bag of chips in hand. She had no idea why such displays got her so flustered these days; it was Maggie being Maggie, same as she had been since they first met. The only difference was that there was so much more of her now, to the point that the lush seemed to be getting more luscious by the week. In the span of a couple months, the diva had plumped up considerably, so much so that Sharon found herself wondering if Maggie had more to do with Mickey’s side of the family than she thought.

    When the chunky cousin climbed into the car, she pouted and nudged the back of Mickey’s seat with her knees. “Can’t you scoot up, tubby? I’ve got no room back here, and I ain’t not contortionist.”

    “Yeah, well, I don’t have much room anyway,” the older, wider woman replied honestly. Her gut was so big, she had to keep the seat scooted back as far as possible, lest she wedged herself against the dashboard. “It’s not far, don’t worry.”

    As the quartet got underway, any thoughts of being late went out the window as they joked and talked amiably about this and that. Maggie and Sharon were being primed for a title shot soon, and they had been doing so well that they were in talks for merchandise. Mickey and Ray got to talking about Thanksgiving plans, which led to the hefty cousins’ stomachs rumbling in protest. Not from being too stuffed, but because they demanded more food; never mind that both women had eaten not so long ago.

    Finally, before Maggie could ask if they were there yet for the umpteenth time, the car pulled up to a community center. The parking lot was filled with people making their way inside: some wore elaborate costumes while others wore simple jerseys or pajamas; some were skinny as a rail while others bloated beyond belief. In fact, there were far more butterballs than there were beanstalks, and that was enough to quell any fears Maggie might have had about her own weight. So what if she had put on a couple pounds since coming stateside? At least she was not as big as the Princess Jasmine that rolled up on a mobility scooter.

    As the four piled out of the car, the young drunkard caught a whiff of something delectable in the air and craned her head around in search of the source. She mumbled, “I smell pulled pork.”

    “Probably because there’s a pig pickin’ going on out back,” Mickey explained as she licked her lips. “These guys really know how to throw a party—I really wish we could have been there for the luau this past summer.”

    “Guess they really like their pigs,” Maggie smirked as she gave her cousin’s stomach a sharp flick. “You might have to be careful tonight, cerdita, or they’ll eat you up.”

    The rotund wrestler blushed and returned the favor by bouncing the underside of her cousin’s stomach. “Just be careful you don’t drink too much, borracha, or you’re liable to float away.”

    Ray and Sharon exchanged a shrug while the cousins teased and taunted in equal measure, and they led the way up to the double doors. When they arrived, they were greeted by the hosts, Randy and Liz, an odd couple if there ever was one. Randy was a hairy balloon of a man who looked like a caveman that ate one too many Slim Jims, and Liz was a petite princess done up in a flowing evening gown and tiara. Said princess popped a sausage roll in her husband’s mouth before greeting the newcomers.

    “Welcome to the Spooktacular Stuffing! Enter at your waistline’s peril,” she giggled.
     

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