Stephen groaned outwardly as he leaned back into his chair, distended
stomach pushing forward into his lap. He raised his hands to place them
on his undeniable gut and give the small swell a solid rub. As he
traced his hands across its outline, he inventoried the changes. He had
put on at least twenty five pounds since starting college three months
ago, and he knew more was ahead if he kept eating like this.
Texas was nothing he could have seen coming. Hailing from rural Maine,
Mexican food was a rarity, and had always been a favorite. But, now,
down in the south, in a border state no less, his options were as
plentiful as the menus were cheap. For the last three months, he had
taken himself from restaurant to restaurant, sampling seasoned meats,
sharp cheeses, fine spices, flavorful rice dishes, and his absolute
favorite: desserts. Stephen had an especially soft heart for
sopapillas–flaky pastries fried in oil and slathered with honey, sugar
His curiosity had taken him to at least a dozen
restaurants, but one, and only one, was running on the same 24/7
schedule he was: Taco Cabana. Stephen knew it was one of the farthest
things you could get from authentic Mexican and not the tastiest either,
but, at night, when his stomach would growl and his resolve would
crumble, he’d always manage to find his way to this glowing oasis of
food, with its tacky decor and cheap, plentiful portions.
groaned again at the tightness in his stomach, and reached down to
unbutton his tight shorts; shorts that he knew were loose on him just
before he came to college. The button struggled, but his hands were deft
and the clasp was freed. He sighed in relief as his stomach fell
gratefully into the extra space. How many nights had he spent like this,
he idly wondered. How many times had he sauntered in, late at night, to
stuff himself with rice, cheese, and greasy meats?
times, indeed, had he come in? He knew, fifteen pounds ago, that he was
putting on weight, but, that didn’t seem to stop him. He knew when he
started having to suck in his gut to button his pants; he knew when his
underwear clung tightly around his thighs and backside; he knew when his
favorite button down wouldn’t close around his gut; but none of that,
absolutely none of it, had stopped him. Each time, Stephen always swore
to himself, he’d start a diet. He’d start a diet, skip out on Mexican
food, and lose the weight–but for some reason, each time he was up late
studying, or just hanging out with his friends, he would come back. And
not just come back, but stuff himself until he was absurdly full. A
task which, as his gut had grown, required steadily more and more food
to accomplish. Stephen realized, if anything, he was coming around more
and more often.
Stephen adjusted in his seat and stifled a belch,
his small belly wobbling back and forth as his hips shifted. His
stomach wasn’t aching as badly as it was earlier, he noted, and decided
it was time to go. Stephen stood and, grabbing the tray which carried
three empty plates of food, walked over to the trashcan to dispose of
them. He took his empty drink to the soda fountain to top off before
heading out, filling it back to the brim with a sugary soda and made his
way to the exit. As he passed he register at the entrance, he gave a
polite nod to the gentleman behind it–a usual night staff worker,
Stephen had noticed. However, this time, a few feet from the door, he
heard the cashier call out:
speak a lick of Spanish, and he was some time from learning what the
word meant, but, he knew it was for him. He turned around to face the
cashier and asked as politely as he could, “Yes, sir?”
The cashier smiled to himself. “How about some dessert?”
Stephen’s stomach let out an audible gurgle, causing him to blush slightly and the cashier’s grin to spread a little wider.
“What do you say? How about dessert to go, on the house?”
food? Free dessert at that? Stephen grinned widely and gave a strong
nod, unaware of the way his gut bobbled slightly along with his head.
you go,” said the cashier. He reached down under the counter briefly,
and produced a small to-go box. This was something he clearly
anticipated. Stephen approached the counter and took the box, and gave
the cashier a pleasant thank you as he walked out the door.
to his dorm room, Stephen set the to-go box on his bed. He groaned
quietly to himself and rubbed his gut, happy to have his roommate out
for the week. As Stephen was standing up and preparing to undress, he
caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His belly was visibly swollen
with food and strained noticeably against his favorite tee-shirt. The
shirt fit in an unflattering fashion. Stephen’s body had been swelling
outward, pulling taught every formerly loose fold in its fit. To say it
clung to him tightly was an understatement–It seemed to highlight the
swelling of his torso, accentuating his protruding love handles. Stephen
noticed this did the unfortunate work of pointing out exactly how much
he had grown, as it left nothing to the imagination as to exactly how
wide he was getting or by how much he was overflowing his shorts. It was
glaringly obvious that his love handles had managed to not just rebel
against the waist of his shorts, but to overtake it and swamp it in
excess adipose. Bad as that was, worse still, Stephen thought, was at
the apex of his belly. Each of his budding love handles swelled together
toward the front of his gut, blossoming outward into a round,
protruding gut which struggled so tightly against the shirt that an
indentation was left where his navel was–an obvious place where fabric
was not in direct contact with flesh.
Stephen groaned pitifully
to himself, noticing now that his shorts were still unbuttoned. The
shirt managed to cover his gut, but only as much, and it left exposed to
the world the evidence of his recent gluttony. He had walked how many
blocks like this? Had seen how many people like this?
down under his gut and sucked in, tucking the button into its clasp
before letting his stomach fall back out. It didn’t hurt as much as it
had earlier, but, it seemed to hoist his gut higher and make it more
pronounced. Stephen sighed, running his hands at the top of the largest
curve. This was getting out of hand, Stephen thought to himself. It’s
time to start that diet and get back into shape, his voice rang in his
head confidently. Yes, Stephen was sure, the diet starts now.
Stephen turned around, however, his attention was caught by the small,
styrofoam to-go box on his bed. Stephen looked down at the soft curve of
his gut, then again at the to-go box.
The diet would start tomorrow.
grinned to himself, already thinking about the taste of the delicious
treat on his palette. But, rather than start immediately, Stephen
decided he wanted to at least be a little more comfortable. Sucking in
his stomach yet again, Stephen reached down and unfastened the button
for his shorts and slid them down his legs. His chunky thighs and
well-filled buttocks appreciatively relaxed into the extra space, and
were made more obvious by the fit of his mid-thigh boxer briefs.
Deciding to leave his shirt on, for now at least, Stephen grabbed a
clean fork from the sink and walked over to his bed, tugging his shirt
down over his belly before sitting down.
gurgled again as he opened the to-go box, eyeing the fried morsel with a
thick coating of sugar and honey. Sopapillas–his favorite. As Stephen
cut off a corner with the side of his fork, he reminded himself that he
wasn’t going against his diet, since he wouldn’t be starting that until
He slid the bite into his mouth, and sighed contently
as the sugar and honey dissolved onto his tongue. The sweet and savory
morsel rolled about his mouth, the tastes becoming more intermingled as
his teeth greedily gnashed away. This, Stephen thought, was worth it.
His fork went back and shoveled another, larger bite into his waiting
Bite after bite, the pastry before him was turned into a
gnash of fried bread and sugar, and swallowed into his waiting gut.
Stephen eagerly scraped the remaining sugar and honey from the sides of
the box, lifting as much of it as possible back to his mouth. Finally,
after a euphoric few minutes, Stephen’s fork came up completely empty,
and only filled his mouth with a trademark metallic taste. Stephen let
out a sigh, half content, and half disappointed that his treat had been
Stephen closed the box and set it down at his side. He
let out a little belch, sighed again contently, and then lightly placed a
hand on the top of his gut as it rested in his lap. Stephen looked back
down at the box, a little disappointed. Tomorrow his diet would start,
and that would mean no more sopapillas and no more nights of mexican
food. Stephen looked down at the swell of his gut again, though, and was
reminded of why that may not be such a bad thing. After all, Stephen
didn’t want to get fat.
This was, Stephen knew, his last
sopapilla for a long time. Resigned, Stephen sighed and stood up to walk
the to-go box to the trash can. He reached down and picked up the box,
only to discover that it was heavier than he remembered. Confused,
Stephen opened the box again and to his surprise found not just one, but
two sopapillas inside.
“The fuck?” were
the only words he could audibly muster. He could remember eating the
last one just less than five minutes ago. Not only could he remember it,
he could still make out the lingering taste of the sopapilla on his
tastebuds. Despite Stephen’s confusion, his stomach came to one
conclusion: it growled audibly, and Stephen began to salivate.
his shoulders, Stephen sat back down on his bed. “Must’ve been three in
there and I missed them somehow.” Aware that this was a shitty
explanation, Stephen didn’t really care. As the growl of his stomach and
the smile creeping over his lips explained he already knew what he
wanted: more dessert.
Sitting back down on his bed and picking
up his fork again, Stephen wet his lips in anticipation. Stephen brought
down his fork on the flaky, gooey pastry, and smiled wider as the
utensil crushed through it, forcing excess honey to ooze around it. As
his stomach issued another quiet grumble, Stephen slopped the morsel in
the excess sweet, sticky honey and brought it to his lips. Slipping the
morsel into his mouth, Stephen again let out a content sigh. The gooey
mixture of bread, honey, and sugar dissolved on his tongue, and he
swallowed strongly, feeling the slop of sweetness plop into his waiting
Stephen reached for his fork and rapidly shoveled in
another few bites until the first pastry was gone. Despite his earlier
binge, Stephen was suddenly racked with a renewed sense of hunger. His
primal urge turned on the remaining sopapilla, and Stephen, uninterested
in wasting time, set the fork down on the nearby counter and reached in
for the gooey treat with his hand. Stephen sopped the flaky pastry in
the excess honey and sugar left in the container and, to his own
surprise, brought the whole pastry to his mouth. Stephen wet his lips,
then opened his maw wide as he stuffed in the pastry until his cheeks
visibly puffed out around the food his mouth contained. Stephen bit
down, his teeth tearing through the pastry as his lips became covered in
Stephen groaned happily as his jaw flexed, trying
to subdue the pastry into a chewable mash. He swallowed a little bit at a
time, feeling a slow trickle of honey, bread, and sugar down his gullet
until finally, the last of it landed in his greedy stomach. Before he
knew it, Stephen had shoveled what was left of the second sopapilla into
his mouth and began to chew. Closing the lid on the box, Stephen set it
at his side again, and placed both hands on either side of his gut.
Stephen leaned back against the nearby wall and tilted his head up
gently, swallowing, as his hands began to lightly massage his gut.
stomach gurgled audibly as he massaged it, trying to break down the
pastries into usable calories. Stephen was content before, but now, as
his stomach gurgled again, he wanted more. He wanted more, but, gently
squeezing the side of his gut, Stephen reminded himself that what he
needed was a diet. Especially now, Stephen thought, after three helpings
“God,” he groaned, before stifling a belch, “I can’t keep doing this. I’ll turn into a fucking pig.”
Stephen’s stomach protested; it gurgled slightly, and Stephen caught himself struck with hunger again.
damn it, why the fuck am I hungry again? I just ate,” he groaned,
perplexed by the sudden insatiability of his appetite. It had never been
like this before.
Out of the corner of his eye, Stephen again
noticed the to-go box. As the hunger ebbed away at his sense of
self-control, Stephen caught himself wondering. If last time, there was
more, then, maybe…
No. Stephen stopped himself and shook his
head–even if there was, for some godawful reason, it was no excuse. He
was on a diet, and he was going to lose weight and that was that.
Stephen looked down at his gut again with a renewed sense of
embarrassment, and strengthened his resolve.
But, from within,
his hunger whispered, “I did say the diet starts tomorrow… and it’s
definitely not tomorrow.” He eyed the to-go container again, “Do you
think?” the voice in his head asked. “Maybe,” came the same voice in
reply. As his hunger rose again, so did the intensity of his desires.
Stephen unconsciously smacked his tongue in his mouth, sopping up
whatever microscopic leftovers of its sugary treat it could still find.
“Maybe,” Stephen thought to himself, and his hunger firmly commanded,
Without lifting the box, Stephen flipped the top
on the to-go box to find to his surprise, another two sopapillas just as
decadent as the last ones.
“What is going on here,” Stephen
spoke aloud to no one in particular. He removed both hands from his
stomach and lifted the to-go box to his face, the scent of the pastries
hit his nose hard, almost like they had been freshly baked. Stephen’s
round stomach let out a loud gurgle, as the hunger pains returned to
rack his body again.
Groaning, Stephen tried to control himself.
“I don’t need to eat–I don’t want to get fat.”. Stephen whined, placing
his hands on his abundant gut, trying to ground himself. Alas, from
deep within, came the voice.
Stephen reached in
with his hand and picked up one of the pastries and stuffed as much of
it into his mouth until his cheeks visibly strained. They puffed out
hard on either side, and Stephen struggled to keep his mouth closed as
he chewed. He tilted his head back again, lips smacking as his jaws
worked to turn the treat into something more manageable. Bit by bit, the
sugary treat slid down the back of his throat and sloshed into his
Stephen’s stomach gurgled as he reached for the second
sopapilla to repeat his gluttony. As he smooched the chewy pastry into
his waiting mouth again, Stephen felt contentment spread across his body
even as his stomach’s hunger seemed to deepen.
In what was going
to be the last moment Stephen’s willpower held up, he closed the lid
and swallowed hard as he wiped powdered sugar from his lips. Through
shocked, heavy breaths, Stephen’s fear grew, even as his hunger creeped
upon the fringes of his psyche.
“No–” Stephen groaned, “I can’t get fat.” Fear creeping up within him, both hands flew to his stomach as the hunger returned.
“Eat,” came a deep, resounding voice which he could not quite place. “You’re hungry,” it echoed again.
“No, I–ugh.” Stephen tried to calm himself, and his hunger, but to no avail.
Why am I so hungry?” Stephen eyed his gut, stuffed with food and
rolling slightly into his lap. Hunger hit him again, and Stephen groaned
along with his stomach.
All thoughts of the diet left Stephen’s
head. With another loud growl from his gut, Stephen gave in. Whatever
force had been within him since he started college, slowly nagging him
to glut himself more and more often, finally won over. The unnamed
whisper that had been in his ear when he noticed how his stomach was
outgrowing even his roomiest shirts; the soothing voice that urged him
after two full orders, to consume another; the voice that lulled him
when he noticed the rising curve of his ass; at last, the monster that
waited until its prey was ready before moving in for the kill had
Stephen grasped at the container, opened it, and
crammed another sopapilla into his mouth as the process which had been
transforming him the last few months suddenly accelerated six-fold.
Stephen moaned at the release of finally answering his unforgiving
hunger, almost thrilled to bloat himself up further. His body answered
in the only way it could: swelling–advancing; his body visibly bloated
outward, inch by inch, pound by pound.
Stephen smacked his lips,
stuffing in another pastry–closing the lid, and preparing to find
more. He lost himself in the flavors: sweet honey, oil, and sugar
flooding his mouth and falling into his gut.
Munch, much, smack, swallow.
His lovehandles rose, oozing out around him and fighting the thin,
cotton shirt that stood between them and open air. As they grew, fat
further pooled into his gut and the indentation of Stephen’s navel grew
more prominent. Above, his chest began to pad even further, the softness
behind his nipples forcing them to protrude visibly against the shirt.
opened the box, and gluttonously crammed another pastry into his maw;
powdered sugar and honey covered his lips, which he sumptuously licked
Much, much, smack, swallow.
Swell. Beneath him,
Stephen’s ass ripened and the twin globes rounded further against the
underwear that stopped fitting him ten pounds ago. As his thighs
thickened with fat and spread out to his sides, Stephen unconsciously
shifted his legs so that they were farther apart as he aggressively
crammed more sopapilla into his mouth.
Smack, chew, swallow.
The bloating belly grew by the minute, and with an almost cartoonish
‘fhwip’ forced his shirt to suddenly roll up to just below his growing
moobs. His bloating gut rolled triumphantly into his lap as fat further
pooled along his sides. The shirt could only cover Stephen’s growing
breasts, and at the rate he was growing, not for very long. Both breasts
filled and began to overfill, stretching both his sensitive nipples and
the thin fabric.
Stephen’s ass and lovehandles aggressively
bloated outward as he gorged, his fattening body fighting desperately
against the waist of the boxerbriefs. There was a sound that caught
Stephen’s ear–a slight pop. What? Stephen blinked briefly, suddenly
aware of himself. He swallowed the bit of pastry left in his mouth, and
as Stephen looked down at the fat gut advancing rapidly across his
thighs, he was treated to the most unusual of choruses:
successive ‘pupupopop’ as the stitches which held his body in gave way
all at once. Stephen’s breasts fell, heavy and fat atop his swelling
gut, and his thighs bulged outward and met in the middle, as two waves
crash into one another. Stephen’s gut bulged outward, swamping his lap
“Holy shit,” Stephen said aloud, even as his
stomach groaned. “Oh fuck, what is happening to me?” Even filled with
fear, Stephen was unable to stop himself and he reached again for more
dessert to cram into his waiting maw. Stephen’s heart throbbed and leapt
into his throat, even as he stuffed more food into his mouth.
can’t stop–the thought occurred to him as he chewed unwillingly, hunger
dominating him. Oh God, I can’t stop. Stephen watched his body steadily
inch outward as he continued to stuff himself, unable to rend himself
from the force controlling him.
Stephen groaned as he swallowed
again. Pound after pound pooled into his gut as it steadily inched along
his lap, threatening to encroach on his knees. It sat atop his thighs
like a heavy, sagging mass that swelled readily along its circumference,
wrapping around Stephen in thick lovehandles. At its crest was
Stephen’s navel, now puckered by the thick, soft fat pooling behind it.
fuck,” was the only thought Stephen could muster between bites. Every
time he could tear himself away from the treats long enough to touch his
body it was somehow softer, and always more of it.
thighs were easily the size of his former waist, and his ass billowed
below him, swelling his frame wider even has his gut bloated him
outward. Stephen was having a harder time adjusting himself on his bed
as more and more fat fought to find its way into him. Stephen struggled
to shift his legs farther apart, even as he unwittingly lifted more of
the pastries to his mouth.
“Oh no no no no–” he spread his
thighs wider and inched farther back; he felt the weight of his body
sway back and forth, as though he were swimming in a sea of himself.
Stephen finally hit the back of the bed and opened his thighs as wide as
he could,allowing his gargantuan belly to spill forth into the gap like
an incoming tide.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Stephen groaned, unable
to stop himself from cramming more food into his mouth even as terror
gripped him. Reaching with one hand, he struggled against the fat mound
of his breast to try and reach the front of his stomach–just something
to reassure himself that he hadn’t gotten that big yet–but found
Just out of reach, his navel perched the crest of
his gut and, almost teasingly, inched further from reach. Stephen fell
back against himself, exasperated, terrified, and almost to the point of
tears. Finally, Stephen’s fear was enough to rend him from the
invisible grip of his hunger, and he dropped the box. It fell to the
floor, now well out of reach at his size, and two fresh sopapillas
rolled out of it.
Stephen’s stomach gave one last groan before
the hunger finally faded, leaving Stephen and his massively overfed form
to deal. Stephen began to sob quietly to himself as he began to explore
his new body–below him, most of the twin fold-out bed was covered by
his width and in front of him, his massive gut sagged heavily between
his thickened thighs, topped by round breasts with stretched, sensitive
Stephen once again tried to reach both hands to his
front, but found that his attempts to touch his hands only resulted in
squeezing the fat of his gut further into his own body. The fat oozed
against his arms, and they remained out of reach of one another.
“Hey, gordito–what did you think was going to happen?”
Stephen’s grief was briefly interrupted by panic, as the cashier suddenly appeared in front of him.
gasped as, almost affectionately–or was it sadistically?–that the
cashier stepped forward and placed his hand on the crest of Stephen’s
belly. Stephen knew exactly how to react.
“YOU FUCKING ASS. WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME? YOU ARE GOING TO FUCKING FIX THIS!”
The cashier continued to only grin.
“Gordito, I didn’t do this–I just gave you desert. You–you did this. And I’m willing to bet…”
Stephen’s anger overflowed within him, but, suddenly, a familiar feeling returned to him.
Stephen’s massive gut unleashed another groan, and Stephen felt the pangs of hunger again begin to ebb his consciousness.
“You’ve got… to be… kidding me…,” Stephen groaned between breaths, exasperated, as he surveyed the cashier.
Grin spread wide, the cashier bent over and picked up the pastries and the box which had fallen to the floor.
Gordito? This is what you are.” The cashier reached forward and gave
Stephen’s gut a smack, watching the wave ripple throughout his overfed
form. As if to answer, the gut unleashed another growl. “A lard-ass. A
genuine, overfed fat-ass.”
“Now,” the cashier stepped forward and
Stephen tried to pull away, only to find himself pinned by his belly
and the wall. Stephen began to panic again as the hunger got stronger,
and the cashier got closer. Before him stood a graceful predator, and he
was the fattened gazelle.
so many important things happen when kairi meets aqua in birth by sleep, from aqua inadvertently performing the rite of succession on her (thus granting kairi a keyblade in kh2), and aqua casting a protection charm that allows kairi to end up in the destiny islands in the first place after her home world is destroyed. it’s no exaggeration to say this meeting changes kairi’s life forever in a very dramatic way.
….buuut when i sat down to draw that dramatic and life-changing moment, this is what came out instead, so enjoy a silly picture of little kairi and aqua being a fabulous squad that’s about to show up somewhere 15 minutes late with starbucks (bby kairi is too little for coffee, so she got a pastry)
2016 Most Anticipated Book Releases - Heartless by Marissa Meyer - November 8, 2016
Catherine may be one of the most desired girls in Wonderland, and a favorite of the yet-unmarried King of Hearts, but her interests lie elsewhere. A talented baker, all she wants is to open a shop with her best friend and supply the Kingdom of Hearts with delectable pastries and confections. But according to her mother, such a goal is unthinkable for the young woman who could be the next queen.
At a royal ball where Cath is expected to receive the king’s marriage proposal, she meets Jest, the handsome and mysterious court joker. For the first time, she feels the pull of true attraction. At the risk of offending the king and infuriating her parents, she and Jest enter into an intense, secret courtship. Cath is determined to define her own destiny and fall in love on her terms. But in a land thriving with magic, madness, and monsters, fate has other plans.
Read an excerpt here (or at the end of Stars Above)
Clad in a bikini top and a sarong with swimming bottoms underneath, he couldn’t bring himself to leave the locker room until there wasn’t anyone watching him. He felt particularly vulnerable on front of the crowd on front of him, as it was filled with particularly females. Males accompanied the ladies, but not very many.
He felt so shy he could disappear and feel protected in his invisibility.
Chihiro sat on a bleacher by the pool, watching the others swim instead. He was out of the way, and he would be safer that way. It didn’t help him that it would be lovely to swim on a hot and humid day like this.
After a while of daydreaming, a girl who was swimming in one of the lanes grabbed his attention. She moved nimbly in the water, despite having her hair out of a ponytail to drag her speed down. Watching her swim was oddly amusing, hair flowing behind her in the water. When she paused to take a break. Chihiro blushed; he was staring at this girl all this time, hopefully she didn’t notice him staring at her the entire time, with her face being in the water and all.
Chihiro found himself waving hello to the goggle-wearing swimmer, when she seemed to glance in his direction, thinking that she was staring at him. Well, he thought. Now she knows I’ve been looking at her… He gulped, fearfully.