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Triple M Obstacle Course :iconelroycohen:elroycohen 46 1
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F*ck Feed or Milk :iconelroycohen:elroycohen 33 7
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I finished tugging up gina's cow print yoga pants and handed her the headband with the cow ears. She was ready to compete. Her udders swayed gently. I could tell they were full and sore. That thick blue vein was practically throbbing and her nipples had been erect since we pulled into the fairgrounds.

"How do I look?" She asked.

I answered while scanning the competition.

"Like a 300 pound mother of four stuffed into a cow costume."

Gina swatted me.

"I told you. 280."

I rolled my eyes and flicked her nipples. Part to prime the tanks and part to annoy her. Little white droplets formed on her thick nipples.

"You could just suck 'em, ya dick."

I ignored her and continued to scan the competition. 10 grand was the prize for coming in first in the Move, Munch and Milk or hucow obstacle course. Some masochistic, rich, perverted asshole had started the competition years ago at his own company picnic. It garnered attention because of the prize and because he wasn't the only pervert. People flocked to watch milkers degrade themselves for entertainment and profit. Soon it was a tradition at the county fair.

The rules are simple. Participants must be lactating but not pregnant. They are weighed and then drink the amount for their weight divided by 50 in whiskey shots. Stuffed into revealing cow costumes they then navigate a maze on all fours. Any food or drink they come across must be eaten before they can move on. When the find a glass with their name on it they fill it up to the line with their milk. If they are first to do so they walk away with the prize money.

Across the way Molly Kendergrass didn't need any priming. Her enormous udders dribbled steadily as Her helper tried desperately to tug up her cow print biker shorts. Having just had her twins a few weeks prior her sagging slab of loose belly skin got in the way. The former stripper turned kept wife had really packed on the pounds with the twins. She had thigh cheese and cellulite to spare. Still she was smaller than Gina. 225 at best.  And leaking like she was she'd fill the cup in no time. She was a threat.

Further down was Lisa, the oldest and also the lightest cow. She was the very definition of the word slut. She had been knocked up more times by different men than I had fingers to count on. Her tits were huge, sagging sacks of milk producing flesh. Lisa had recently lost a bunch of weight. She looked to be under 200. She might be a contender.

I looked back at Gina, whose big ass was hanging over her pants in gobs.
"Jesus, you might be the fattest cow here. Why haven't you used the treadmill lately?"

Gina rolled her eyes. "Because you shattered my ankle last summer when you tried to take me from behind at the kitchen counter when I was in my wedge sandals."

I shrugged and then caught a glimpse of the final contestant.
Bessie had been a compulsive eating, morbidly obese teen until she had gotten knocked up by her counselor at a summer fat camp. Then she became really big. Now she was a compulsive eating, grotesquely obese, 19 year old mother fresh off her shotgun wedding, stuffed into a custom cow print bodysuit.

The weigh-in was first. Everybody was about what I thought.

Lisa, a plump 180. They rounded her up to four shots. She took 'em like a champ.

Molly was carrying quite a bit of baby weight at 213. She took her 5 shots slowly. By the last one she was already having trouble standing.

The constant wobbling of Bessie's blubbery form was causing problems for the scales. The judges settled on 430 and the massive contestant downed her 9 shots. She looked ready to pass out by the seventh.

Gina weighed in at 295. She drank her 6 shots like water. I slapped her fat ass and whispered to her that if she won I'd take her home and have her knocked up again by midnight. She giggled and headed to the starting line.

I was hard as a rock as I watched a half ton of blubbery flesh quiver on all fours. Four flabby, round gluttons with fat udders aching to be milked. I wiped a trickle of drool from my mouth.

The four cow clad contestants took off at the sound of the gun. Molly and Lisa were quickest off the line. But Molly was very unstable. Her dangling udders threw her off balence and she kept bumping the maze wall on the right.

Lisa was out ahead until she made a wrong turn and came upon another shot of whiskey.

Bessie and Gina lagged behind. The two jostled for position. Gina used those wide soft hips of hers to check the bigger cow. But Bessie was just too heavy. She pinned Gina against the wall and squeezed the wind out of her and left her behind.
I yelled for Gina to catch up but it was hard not to admire the massive Bessie. With her paunch dragging on the ground and her thighs slapping against each other as hundreds of pounds of blubber wobbled violently. All that underneath a bodysuit that had already split over her ass that was so big two averaged sized men could ride on it. She was already getting tired though. Her skin slick with sweat. Her mouth hung open and panting as her massive weight pressed down on her knees.

Meanwhile Molly had made a wrong turn and was face first in a chocolate cake. Lisa came up behind her and forced her face in the moist treat until she was coated in crumbs and gasping for breath. Before she moved on Lisa kneed the vulnerable opponent in the tits. Molly howled but was forced to stay put until the cake was gone.

Bessie was trucking along but made her own wrong turn and hit a flurry of obstacles. A platter of brownies. A basket of muffins. A tall shot of vodka. The overworked zipper on her body suit gave way and her stuffed gut sagged heavily on the floor.

Gina was trying to make up time but struggling with each movement. I could tell her knees hurt badly and her tits were starting to leak. Even worse a troublesome Lisa had looped around and snuck up behind Gina. She yanked hard on her ankle and Gina went down on her belly and tits. As she passed Lisa slammed a fist into Gina's fat gut, incapacitating her like a turtle on her back.

Molly was back in the game, but became locked in a battle with Lisa. The older cow was vicious, jabbing her elbow in the soft side of Molly's distended, hanging gut. The bigger cow used her size to her advantage and fell over on top of Lisa. The old cow yelped as her internal organs and swollen udders were squished.

Bessie and Gina moved slowly but steadily. Bessie was breathing heavily and her face was caked with the remnants of penalty food. Dazed and desperate she made another wrong turn and was forced to eat a cherry pie, then a loaf of bread. She was ghostly pale and dripping sweat as she continued on. Her overloaded belly slowing her to a crawl that allowed a sore and agitated Lisa to catch up. The bitter old heifer lined up behind Bessie and hit her with a measured slap to the back of her left thigh. Blubber rippled like a cannonball hitting a pool of pudding. The heavyweight's leg cramped up and she rolled over wailing in pain. With her round belly packed with baked goods there was no way she was getting up.

One down.

With the time Lisa took assaulting Bessie Molly was able catch up. They both caught a winded Gina. The three jockeyed for position along the home stretch.

Lisa peppered opponents with a flurry of blows to try and slow them down. When behind she jabbed their calves and thighs with her hands. When she pulled out in front she sent quick kicks back to udders that ached to be milked.

Molly flailed wildly. She was too unsteady to land much. And in fact she toppled herself more than anything. She fell behind to a distant third.

Gina did her best to keep up to the lighter Lisa. Her skin was bright pink from all the slaps and kicks she had endured. She was three lengths behind Lisa when she got to the cup. Lisa's saggy melons sprayed down on the cup like a firehouse when she tugged her swollen teat.

Gina hurried to get into position, but by then Lisa had the cup half full.

Gina's ducts were so swollen she had a hard time getting started and when she did Lisa had her cup overflowing. The hag of a Holstein was declared the winner.

I was disappointed but proud of my tubby cow. I hurried out to help milk her swollen udders. The feeling was so good Gina moaned and wiggled her hips. I tugged the split in her pants open more and slid my hand in.

Fairgoers hooted and hollered.

"Honey, behave," Gina giggled, but we were making out by the time she was milked dry. I figured I'd get what I could. Later she'd eat herself sick on fair food and go home and realize how sore she was and lounge in bed for days.

As I groped and kissed my cow Lisa did a victory dance with milk still streaming from her sagging jugs.

Bessie and Molly hobbled over to milk their aching teats.

Despite the end it was a good cow obstacle course overall. I couldn't wait for next year.

Epilogue

Lisa never participate in the obstacle course again. She blew her winnings on plastic surgery. Firmed up her sagging udders, gave her face a youthful lift and sucked some blubber from her middle to give her an hourglass. She landed a sugar daddy and spent her days lounging around an estate. She plumped up again, but her 70+ year old hubby didn't seem to notice.

Lisa still made it out to the fair every year to watch the cows compete and brag about her win.

Bessie took part in one more competition. She had eaten herself even heavier and hadn't gotten any more in shape so she hurt her wrists pretty bad crawling around on all fours. After that she ballooned to epic proportions. With her compulsive eating and a lover who enabled her she blossomed into a semi-mobile blob. The nanny hired to help watch the little one was also tasked with feeding the very big one. Food became her life as she morphed into a mountain of fat. Claims have been made she's swelled to over 600 pounds and is still going strong.

Molly became something of a obstacle course legend. After her rough finish she trained for the following. An 18,000 calorie diet with daily walks and twice daily milking had her a fit 260 pounder with swollen HH cups that never stopped dripping milk. She overpowered the competition and flooded the cup taking 5 of the next 7 competitions.

Gina did one more competition. It was hard because I kept her barefoot and pregnant the next few years. Four more kids for my wide bottomed cow. She grew huge. Our doctor was amazed she was fertile as morbidly obese as she became. With her last she eclipsed 400 pounds and couldn't fit her ass in the car to go to the hospital.

Gina was still an amazing cow. She'd wake up with the sheets soaked with milk and still have more than all the kids could suck from her teat. Our kids waddled around little butterballs they were fed so well.

After her last kid Gina blew up even bigger. Parking her big ass on the couch eating junk caused her weight to swell into the 525 range. Far too big to compete in the competition, although on nights when she was in the mood I would help her cram into a custom cow print one piece and role play like there was no tomorrow.
Triple M Obstacle Course
Just another competition themed story with elements of WG and lactation
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The poker game was winding down. Rick had won most of the chips. Alan was texting one of his many girlfriends, Gus was eating any snacks that were within reach, and Sid had been out of chips for a while and was ready to move on to something else.

The four college friends who had stayed in touch after they had graduated and started lives in the real world tried to get together at least once a month. They had a strong bond. They weren’t just guys from the same school. They were all men who appreciated their woman fat and getting fatter.

They all considered it pretty amazing they had ended up going to the same school at the same time, so even as it got harder to make time for a guys’ night with work and life issues getting in the way they all made an effort.

There was Rick who was the everyman. A business major who ended up getting a teaching degree and then a job at a middle school. He had a condo in the suburbs and was dating a fellow teacher. A 200 pounder with a big ass who loves barbecue.

There was Al, the ladies’ man. He went back to sell cars at his dad’s dealership and was juggling three chubby ladies. He tried to spend equal time with each but one had already gone up a dress size with all the fancy dinners he had spoiled her with.

Gus had been the athlete, but having married his high school sweetheart and settled into to domestic bliss he looked anything but. While he is quite proud of the 20 pounds he claims his wife has put on since the wedding he himself has ballooned to over 250.

Sid was the wild partier. Not surprisingly he’s still in school while he interns at various law firms. He had a thing going with a potbellied paralegal, but dumped after she dropped 30 pounds on a juice cleanse.

“Fuck, feed or milk?” Sid blurted out.

Al rolled his eyes. “Not this again.”

“Why not. Here’s a good one. Music. Brittney Spears, Christina Aguilera or Pink. Fuck, feed or milk?”

Al puts down his phone and thinks. “Well you’d have to milk Christina, no question. Massage those puppies up a couple sizes and then milk her like a cow twice a day. I’d fuck Brittney and get her barefoot and pregnant like she should be. Not too fat, just big and pregnant. Then I’d feed Pink cheeseburgers until she couldn’t see her feet. I bet she’d look good with some nice flabby thighs.”

Sid nods. “Can’t argue with that. Now you go.”

Al thought for a minute. “Okay, let’s go Christmas movies. Gus, Reese Witherspoon from Four Christmases, Zooey Deschanel from Elf or Beverly D’Angelo from Christmas Vacation. Fuck, feed or milk?”
Gus had to clear his mouth of pretzels. “I’d fuck Zooey until she was waddling around with my baby inside her. Keep her inside watching TV so her ass spreads to take up two spots on the couch as her belly rounds out. Feed Reese pasta until she’s double her size and fat from her face to her feet and milk the big tits of the mom from Christmas vacation. Hook her up to a milking machine as she gives me a hand job.”

The guys nodded apprehensive agreement.

“Now I got to think of one, huh? Let’s do recent Bond girls, Rick. Monica Bellucci, Halle Berry or Denise Richards. Fuck, feed or milk?”

“Man, that’s a tough one. I’d probably fuck Halle. She’d look adorable with a baby belly. Let those hips spread just a little and her breasts swell a few sizes. I’d probably feed Monica. I bet she’d develop nicely into obesity. Probably bacon wrapped hotdogs until she’s this big sweaty slob who gets her bras custom built. Which leave Denise as my cow. I’d make her get on all fours and moo then milk her by hand until those tits were as big as her head.”

Al was shaking his head. “No way man. You’d have to milk Monica, and not like a cow. You’d want to gently suckle those puppies. Denise would make a sexy 300 pounder. I’d feed her cake until she couldn’t nod her head she had so many chins.”

Gus nodded as well. “I gotta go with Al on this one. Monica’s tits beg to be milked.”

“I respectfully disagree.”

“Doesn’t matter. Judge has spoken. It’s on you now.”
“Okay. Well we have to do a food star one. Al, it’s back to you. Nigella Lawson, Rachael Ray or Damaris Phillips. Fuck, feed or milk?”

“Oh, I’d fuck Nigella, no question. She’s probably too old to get pregnant, but she could be my personal sex toy. And in reality I’d probably forget the other two existed, but for the game I’d feed Rachael nothing but fast food until they’d have to roll her on stage and milk that other one. She could have a manual breast pump and milk herself while I watched from on top of Nigella.”

Rick shook his head. “No way. Nigella was meant to be 500 pounds of belly and boob flesh. Funnel feed her milkshakes until she’s waddling around with saddlebags. You’d be insane not to feed her.”

An argument broke out as strong opinions surfaced about Rachael and Nigella. The noise woke Gus’ wife who had fallen asleep on the couch upstairs. She walked over and cracked the door to listen to what was so feverishly being discussed at 2am.

When she heard she couldn’t help but chuckle. It wasn’t that big of a surprise. She had checked his internet history before. Carefully she shut the door and walked out to the kitchen where she mixed up a gallon of ice cream with weight gain powder and 2 cups of sugar.

“Oh Gus, you can fantasize all you want about celebrities. But in reality I’m the one fucking and feeding…and if those moobs get any bigger I may be tempted to milk as well.”

The shake went in the fridge next to the stack of pork chops and large dish of pasta alfredo. Then Gus’ wife cut up a tray of brownies and set them where she knew they’d be too much to resist for her husband when he came up.

Epilogue

The group lasted a few more years before they started not being able to meet regularly. Life got busy for most of them.

Rick proposed to his fellow educator. The tubby teacher blossomed into a whale as Rick spoiled her every chance she got. She was easily over 300 pounds when her father helped her down the aisle in ballet flats and a custom gown. She hovered pretty close to that weight for a long time after. There was a time she tried to lose weight to get pregnant, but found it too difficult and settled in to a fluffy 325.

They live in a modest home with two dogs, sturdy furniture and a kitchen that always has fresh baked good.

Al was forced to settle down when he knocked up one of his many chubby flings. She fattened nicely during pregnancy and developed into a big soft pear after delivery, but it wasn’t meant to last. She walked out on him when she caught him cheating with a bloated bag girl from the grocery store.

Sid never made it through law school. He left school to open a restaurant with a friend. It was a classy place that specialized in comfort food. Sid himself helmed the kitchen and took great pride in serving huge portions of fattening fare that people came from miles around to eat.

Gus’s fate had pretty much been sealed when he married his sweetheart, the fatty loving beauty who had planned to turn the star athlete into a blubbery blob ever since they first made out in the back seat of his car. She ruthlessly fattened him, loving the way he filled out into a massive blob. She got wet seeing him mindlessly eat whatever she set in front of him. She’d have to excuse herself when his belly became exposed in front of company when he struggled out of a seated position. Her knees buckled when the doctor told him he was too big for sex. She was addicted to seeing him grow bigger and fatter even as his weight climbed to unrealistic levels. She even missed him when she went out on girls’ nights with her friends.

“You should flirt,” her friend prompted as they sat at a bar downtown.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I couldn’t do that to Gus.”

“Why not. You gotta get yours somehow. And I know he’s not doing it.”

“Oh he may not be able to have sex, but I can still sit on his face. His tongue is as agile as it was when he was a little 300 pounder.”

The friends giggled, although one was bold enough to add, “I’m not making fun. I can kind of see what you’re saying. Gus has a cuddly quality that is oddly arousing.”

Another piped up, “Yes. I have to admit I’ve always wanted to squeeze his man boobs.”

“Or curl up next to his belly after I hand feed him an entire pizza,” another blurted out.
The feeder nodded and smiled. “Well then. Maybe you guys would be up for a little game…Let’s play Fuck, feed or…forget.”
F*ck Feed or Milk
A short story based on a variation of a party game. I feel like with the title what it is I don't need a warning.
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Bree woke up naked, sore, bloated and hungry.

She was naked because she wasn't allowed clothes. He wanted to see her body change. And boy had it changed. She didn’t mind. It was one less thing to worry about.

She was sore because he had fucked her like a cheap whore most of the night. He bent her into positions she didn't think possible (and she used to be very flexible) while telling her what a fat slut she was and how much fatter he planned on making her. He told her how much cellulite she had on the backs of her thighs, how he had to lift her belly apron to get at her fat pussy, and how small her tits had stayed as she ballooned into a hippo.

Bree had come so hard she babbled incoherently which only made him laugh at her. She loved his pillow talk. She was so relieved to not have to deal with boys who played games and never said what they wanted.

Bree was bloated from the pizza he had fed her as she lay on the bed in a sweaty heap.

“God you can eat a lot now,” he teased. “You're getting to be an expensive pet.”

Bree was hungry because he had trained her to always be hungry. No matter how full her belly felt her mind told her she could eat a little more. Such a change from when she was forced to count calories and weigh each piece of food she ate.

Bree tried to get up and nearly toppled over. He had put the shackles on her again.
She felt the cold steel on her ankles and hear the rattle of the chain. It didn't keep her from getting around but it slowed her down and made stairs impossible.

He wanted to control her as much as he could even when he was away. Bree got wet just thinking about it. She wanted to lie in bed rubbing herself but she knew her assignment was waiting.

Bree shuffled out into the hall, her flabby thighs slapping together with each awkward step. The gallery of photos of her from before she had met him stared back at her. Back when she was so thin and tan and full of herself. With her long legs and toned arms she thought she was so smart and had all the answer, when in fact she had just been preventing her true self from emerging. What the hell would she have done as a gymnast anyway? She had deprived herself of pleasure just to stay thin for boys who didn't like her anyway and parents who were living out their dreams through her. Then she let herself be put in that prison of a campus trying to learn things her small mind would never understand.

Thank god he had found her.

She shuffled by the picture of her in a bikini from the summer she worked at the fitness camp. She had abs popping through her bronzed skin.

He hated that picture.

Bree's chubby hands gripped the sagging, pale paunch he had given her since she had moved in. No one would ever believe abs like that were buried beneath her blubber. He had told her he planned to make her huge. He was so good at it too.

Bree continued out to the kitchen. Eight cakes were waiting for her at the table. One for each hour he would be away. Some were round, multi-layered. Others were big sheet cakes. Some were chocolate frosted, others, vanilla, still others were brightly colored. All had one word piped onto them that together made a phrase.

Straight to your fat belly, you greedy piggy.

Bree sat down and started in on cake number one. She tore into it with her bare hands, shoveling mouthful after mouthful past her plump lips. It tasted so good she had to pause as the sexual tingle she had been conditioned to feel caused her to quiver.
The cake was rich and filling. The frosting was over an inch thick. If all were like the first, which Bree knew they would be, she'd be hard pressed to meet the goal.

Bree racked her brain for what day it was. What was the consequence for not succeeding? Was it milkshake funnel feeding. Perhaps it was treadmill day. Would she get a paddling or be forced to crawl on her hands and knees. Or would it be a new consequence. Bree was making herself wet just thinking about it. Her glorious transformation from society's ideal into his perfect pet.

Bigger, softer, hungrier, hornier.

Bree shook the thoughts out of her head and focused on her goal.

The first 2 cakes went down easy. She the platters licked clean in just over 30 minutes.

She was turning into such a pig.

After that it started to get tougher. She could feel her belly stretching with each bite. The stretch marks around her belly button started to get sore. She leaned back in the chair and let her distended gut fill her lap. She dabbed sweat out of her eyes with her frosting and crumb crusted hand.

Bree needed a drink.

All that was in the fridge was whole cream. The cold, thick liquid felt good going down but only filled her more.

Bree forced the third and part of the fourth cake down. It took a while and made her feel sick. Bree was exhausted. All the exertion was wearing her out. She pulled herself up from the table and shuffled to the front room on the big comfy couch.

Walking past the mirror above the mantle she caught a glimpse of her overstuffed naked form. Her belly was huge, sticking out in front of her further than she could reach. She looked like some obese woman pregnant with triplets.

He would fuck her so hard if he could see her now.

Bree had a hard time getting comfortable on the couch. She knew it was almost halfway through the day and was off pace for making goal, but she needed a nap.

The sound of one of his phones woke Bree up hours later. He had so many a few were often scattered around the house. This one was getting a flurry of texts. Bree had a hunch who it was. She knew she wasn't supposed to look but glanced at it anyway as she shuffled back toward the cakes.

It was her sister Bonnie. Or Bunny as he had renamed her. She was desperate to get to see him. But of course she had always been desperate. The texts begged for a night of sex. Detailed descriptions of what she would do to him flashed on the phone along with pictures of her sculpted body naked.

He had transformed Bunny as well, but not into a big spoiled pet. Bunny was his bimbo sex toy. Bleached hair with pink ends, cheekbone implants like a photoshopped supermodel. Lip injections that made it hard for her to talk normal, breast implants so large they tugged her shoulders into a hunch, a stomach lipo'ed of every ounce of fat so it can be redistributed to her ass and thighs that tapered out from her narrow waist to extreme jiggling widths, and of course a drug and hormone regimen that turned her into a horny slut machine.

Bree ignored the phone and started back in on the cakes.

Fourth and fifth went down slowly. Bree was so very full. She could feel her stomach muscles cramping. The heavy cream only made it worse. Her belly throbbed and ached. Her jaw muscles felt like jelly. She could barely reach past her belly to get to the sixth cake which she forced down most of before blacking out. For the next couple hours she would wake with a start, stuff a handful of cake in her mouth, moan and squirm from discomfort and fade again into unconsciousness. She got through cake six and seven this way. She felt like she weighed a ton. Then she realized it was time... Yet he wasn't home. Bree wondered where he was.
---
Bunny danced in front of his desk in heels so tall she was over 6' and a dress so tight every curve and contour of her man-made body could be seen.

“I couldn't wait for you, baby. I needed to see you,” Bunny panted.

He got up from his desk and walked around to the Gyrating slut. He backhanded her across her massive chest, sending her teetering back on her heels.

“You stupid cow! I told you never to come to my office. I don't need my staff to see what simple-minded, overstuffed whore I keep company with.”

Bunny's lips pouted even more than they naturally did. She looked down into her cleavage, batting her long lashes.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Now get out of those heels and give me ten jumping jacks.”

Bunny did as she was ordered, starting off with a barefoot jump that would barely qualify but was still enough to cause her melons to bounce heavily. She winced and grunted.

“One!”

Another, followed by another. Each jiggly bounce caused her boobs to flop closer to freedom of the tight dress and her skirt to ride up, exposing her plump pussy and plumper ass.

Bunny was sweating and grimacing by five. Her knockers hung out of her dress.

Six was barely a bob which got her another rap on her big targets.

Seven was almost a real jumping jack.

You skin is stretching nicely around your assets. You'll be able to go up another couple sizes soon.

“However big you'd like them, sir. Consider me your horny blow-up doll.”

He chuckled. “You'll be lugging them around in a hand cart before I'm satisfied. When I want to fuck you we won't need to look for a bed, I'll just bend you over your bean bag-sized fun bags.

Bunny shivered in anticipation as she continued with another terrible jumping jack.

“Stop jumping before you have a heart attack. Now get out of that ugly dress and give me some head, bitch.”

Bunny peeled off the dress and hurried over to kneel before the leather desk chair as he leaned back and lit a cigar. She tugged out his huge, semi-hard cock and struggled to lean down to get in in her mouth. Her tits pressed up against his knees and prevented her from lowering her head. He helped by grabbing a handful of blonde and pink hair and tugging her toward him. She wrapped her fat lips around his wand and sucked like a thirsty brat with a slushee.

He smoked his cigar like it was nothing, letting the slut slurp away until he was ready. He tugged her hair up.

“Bend that big ass over the desk, bitch.”

Bunny let her boulders flop down on the desk and braced for him to ram her, which he did like she was a stranded bumper car and he was a mean kid with a clean shot across the rink.

Bunny’s tits swung like wrecking balls, slapping up against her chin, knocking the phone and pens off the desk. She tried to contain them but needed both hands on the desk to keep him from sending her over the edge onto the floor.

Bunny wailed like a banshee as he brought her and brought her. Drool dangled off her full lips and sweat trickled around the curves of her swaying tits and dripped off her engorged nipples.

When he was done he slumped back into his chair, his cock still hard and throbbing.

“You couldn’t even make me cum, you freak show.”

“What do you want me to do, baby?” Bunny panted.

“Get you dress on and get the fuck out of here. I have to go home and make sure your pig of a sister has eaten enough today.”
---
Bree was passed out in the kitchen, her belly a throbbing pale balloon with blue veins pulsing just beneath the stretched skin. Cake crumbs and frosting were smeared around her face, tits and parts of her belly she could reach.

His pig had swollen even larger than when he had left her.

On the table eight empty platters sat scattered about.

He woke her by securing her hands behind her back. Or as far behind her back as he could get them. He really didn’t need to. She wouldn’t be getting to her feet anytime soon.

“Someone’s been a hungry girl,” he teased, poking a finger deep into her drum tight belly.

Bree shrieked in pain.

“Please, no. I’m so full. I literally feel like I might pop.”

He grinned devilishly and instead of stopping grabbed big handfuls of flap and shook her tender tummy. It instantly started gurgling.

“What’s the matter? Is all that rich, gooey cake and thick cream cheese and buttercream frosting too much for your fat ass?”

Bree turned even more pale than she was as her cheeks puffed up.

He stopped and took a step back.

“You are really full. We’ll have to work on stretching that belly even more. I want you to be able to eat so much I can see the difference after each meal. I want that belly dragging on the floor as you waddle around.”

Bree was too tired and full to respond.

“Oh well, piggy. Rest up. Dinner will be ready soon.”

He gave one last pat on the pig’s belly before heading off to make some calls. As much as he loved stringing the sisters along into thinking he was keeping them around the truth was their transformations were complete. He could sell them off for huge money.

A fat or feeding fetishist would pay top dollar for a promising but overworked and emotional fragile gymnast turned bloated, food addicted pig, conditioned to stuff herself sick. Of course he’d throw in the pictures for a few thousand more. Every feeder loves a good comparison.

And he could find a buyer for the overdeveloped slut in minutes. He had probably overdone it on the ass and thighs. Bunny was a little thick for the average middle aged executive to break out big bucks for, but those tits and lips would have her selling for six digits easy to some horny rich sap.
Blossoming Beauties
Short tale short on plot and longer on character description. WG, a little S&M and even some bimbofication are involved.
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Lance came back to his office after the dinner rush to find Lydia still on the couch topless and barefoot, her hands bound behind her back, ankles bound together. Her distended belly sat in her lap like a balloon that he had filled to near bursting. Her breasts hung heavy on top of it, swollen and desperately needing release. The thick blue vein on the left one was pulsing in time with her elevated heart rate.

Lydia's eyes were tearing up and her panties were very wet. She was in pain and loving every minute. Yet her eyes got wide and frightened when Lance took it to the next level by revealing a tub of mac and cheese from the buffet.

“Finish all this and I’ll be sure you get milked like good cow,” Lance chuckled evilly.

Lydia was a cute young sub Lance had stumbled across unexpectedly. He hadn't known her deviant side when he hired her for the buffet originally. She was just a cute redhead with a decent rack. Far too small for his tastes even though she had curves above and beyond her tits.

The key to her getting hired at all was that she was a high school dropout who would likely stay on longer than the usual summer. Maybe even a possible assistant manager. People like that were hard to find nowadays. Lance had no idea the sexual plaything he had hired.

But soon enough after hiring her he could tell. The way she carried herself, the way she interacted with people, the types of boys that came in waiting for her shift to end. It was obvious if you knew what to look for. And Lance knew exactly what to look for.

There was a sense Lydia knew what he was as well.

Not long after that the flirting began. A knowing glance here and there. He would touch her shoulder or squeeze her arm when he addressed her. She would like her lips seductively as he did. Not all of it was your typical flirting of course. Harsh verbal abuse in his office. A spanking here and there.

There was no denying the attraction. Lydia was a cute dumb slut that was up for anything. Lance was an older but very handsome experienced dom who could do things Lydia hadn't dreamed of.

Soon they were in a full-fledged affair.

Lydia would sign up for as many extra shifts as she could to spend time with lance. And lance would tell the wife he was working late when Lydia was there.

Lydia loved the idea of being owned and dominated by such a creative man.
When she got to work he would have something for her right away. Sometimes it was as simple as pulling her into the office and scrawling slut on her belly. The idea of being marked had Lydia almost too turned on to concentrate.

Sometimes he would strip her of her bra before a shift and make her work with her natural D's bouncing under her thin shirt.

Lance also liked to force Lydia to eat the slop from the buffet.

“I'm going to make you fat and ugly so no one else will want you,” he would tell her.

Lydia would shudder with desire. The attention, the talk of being his and only his. She was as smitten as a naive young sub could be.

Lance wasn't kidding about fattening her up. With her genetics and love of food Lydia assumed she would go up a size or two, but lance loved to hand feed her leftover dishes from the buffet when he had her bound in his office after hours to the point she could watch her belly balloon in front of her. Some nights Lydia would almost be too full to get on her knees and beg lance to pleasure her.

It was an indescribable feeling for the young sub. She had found a man who controlled every aspect of her physical self. Not just the bondage and humiliation she was so turned on by but her very physical form was being turned from the shapely young shy submissive to a chubby sex slave.

In the office lance would use her bra to bind her hand as he spooned pudding from a gallon jug into her mouth as he slapped and twisted her breasts.

“You're going to get saggy you cow.”

The pain from having her vulnerable, swollen, extra sensitive tits worked over would turn to intense pleasure as the sensation traveled down between her legs.

On the job Lance would frequently call out Lydia for gaining weight.

“You need bigger pants,” he stated in front of the cute Latino boy who had a crush on Lydia back when she first started, along with a few paying customers on the other side of the buffet.

“Those show off how fat your thighs half gotten since you've started here.”

Lydia swooned even as she blushed.

She was getting fat. After one summer her bras were almost unbearably tight and she had a small belly.

After the holidays Lydia's hips were wider than her shoulders and she couldn't suck in the belly any more.

At home Lydia's parents never suspected a thing. They acted as if they expected their youngest daughter to get fat at her job and said nothing. Just as they expected she would still be living with them at 19.

Her mom would turn up her nose in disgust when Lydia would come down in an outfit that showed off her weight gain.

Her dad completely ignored her. He had his two older daughters to be proud of. The married homemaker and the dedicated grad student.

It didn't matter to Lydia. She had found her niche.

Lydia was Lance's utterly and completely by then. She wore a choker necklace he had given her that actual read property of Lance in tiny lettering.

Together in the office Lydia would kneel in the corner and wait patiently for a command when he was working and eagerly pleasure him with her mouth, hands, tits or ass when he wanted her to.

When she did actually work lance had a variety of reminders for her of what she was.

There was the corset he would lace up tight enough to make it look like she had a waist, but made breathing or bending a tough task.

There were the nipple clamps that would shift from pain to pleasure and back throughout the course of the night.

Just when they had developed something of a routine Lance went to the next level.

Hog tied on the couch in his office at Lance's mercy Lydia's moans and begging for release were elevated as he worked over her breasts.

She had noticed they had been extra sensitive for a few days and were swollen almost too big to stuff in her FF cups.

Even though she was a week away Lydia had assumed she was just early this month because they would swell a bit and get sore during her time of the month. Until lance leaned down and whispered in her ear.

“Looks like you're a couple days away from becoming a true cow instead of just looking like one.”

Lydia gasped. She dare not speak, not while bound.

A mixture of shock, fear, excitement and lust washed over her. She could feel Lance's strong hand moving over her soft middle between her doughy thighs to her moist treasure. She bit her lip as a tremor of pleasure shook her.

“Is my cow excited to be milked like a farm animal?”

Lydia nodded rapidly as lance continued to toy with her, rubbing her so close only to stop and chuckle as she drooled helplessly bound and exposed.

It actually took a couple weeks and a couple bra sizes for Lydia's milk to come in.
Lance never told her but she imagined he had been lacing her food with something. Whatever it was eventually it worked. Lydia was lugging around a backbreaking set of GG cup udders that got tight and sore every morning and late afternoon if they didn't get milked.

They were udders in every sense of the term. Huge, pale, saggy sacks of leaking fat that were adorned with dark areole, puffy, sore teats. They were dotted with pink blemishes and streaked with stretch marks.

They were lance favorite target. He loved to pull her back into the office and scribble udders or cow or milk factory all over them before priming them so Lydia was constantly stuffing napkins in her bra to keep from leaking through her tight tee shirt.

Or else lance would bind her in his office and let her udders fill throughout her shift without release. As he had before the diner rush. Lydia could only sit there and feel her ducts swell and her udders get warm and tight.

When he returned he saw his overweight cow squirming on the couch unable to loosen the pentagram binding he had put her in.

Her udders looked terribly sore and swollen. White droplets formed at each of her long teats. Lance gave them a squeeze and thin streams of milk shot across the room. Lydia moaned.

“Please milk me,” she pleaded.

Lance shook his head and gave the left udder a firm squeeze.

Lydia tried to stifle a yelp.

“Now, now. You know better.”

“Moooo,” Lydia moaned.

Lance undid the knots in the pentagram and Lydia immediately moved into position on her hands and knees on the old couch. Her ever widening hips almost too big for her to fit. Her full udders hanging low and swaying.

Everything about Lydia looked big and round and full.

Lance kneaded her blubbery ass cheeks, working his way until he could feel her wetness. Her moos became more desperate.

“Is my big ol' cow ready to be milked until her udders are sore and then fucked until she can't walk?”

Another mooo

“Well we need to get you fed first.”

Lance slid an apple pie in front of Lydia's face.

She let out a heavy sigh of disappointment.

“Is my cow refusing her supper? Maybe it just doesn't look like enough for such a big hungry cow.”

Lance slapped her fat belly that was hanging slightly lower than her udders. Then he brought out a cherry pie and dumped it on top of the apple.

Lydia didn't risk and more she lowered her face and ate like she was behind in a pie eating contest.

Lance chuckled. The idea of fattening up Lydia to extremes was almost as exciting as binding and disciplining his sub. The vulnerability of her bloated, out of shape form that he had created was such an obvious demonstration of his power that he couldn't help but abuse it a bit by doing things such as buying her uniform a size or two too small to accentuate her heft.

Lydia was just loving the attention. Having a man focus on her so thoroughly was something she had never experienced before. It helped that Lance was a master. Lydia could barely keep up with all the disciplines and rules. She just let her mind go blank and enjoyed the pleasure and pain when she was with him.

She was almost at her limit as she forced the last of the second pie down. Her distended belly was pressing against the couch. Her udders were hot and tingly and her back and knees ached.

Then she was done and she felt Lance's hands on her fat udders, pulling and tugging and squeezing until she was in a puddle of her own milk.

Then he was behind her, splitting bulbous cheeks and pounding her so thoroughly she lost track of the orgasms. She was quite the sight, face caked in pie, huge tits dripping milk, belly comically stretched and distended, and hips obscenely fat and wide.

She was so exhausted lance was easily able to hogtie her before he went back out to check on the buffet.

Lydia took advantage of the rest. She knew there'd be more, and she couldn't wait.

And so it went for a while. The pair lasted a long time, but as with all good things it couldn’t last forever.

Lydia’s whole life was at the buffet. Lance was the main part of it, but she also loved the job. She was good at it. She kept the buffet full and clean. It was simple tasks that a woman of her intelligence could handle easily and she took pride in it.

As Lydia gained weight there was no mocking or strange looks from customers or co-workers. A fat woman working at a buffet was as natural as a big-titted woman working at a strip club. It just made sense. She was at home at the buffet, among like minded people.

Lydia continued to get bigger and bigger. From plump to chubby to obese to morbidly obese. She developed into a huge bottom-heavy shape. Massive, blubbery thighs, globular saddlebags, a sagging, bloated lower belly and an ass that got too big and wide to fit between chairs in the dining room.

Lance fed off her increasing girth. As she got bigger he forced her to eat more, stuffing her beyond her limits. She was so much easier to bind and discipline at her extreme size. Just binding her hands was enough to keep her anchored to the couch. Forcing her to stand in one place hurt her knees and ankles and made her get red faced. And even with all that padding on her ass a good spanking had her squealing. Plus it was so satisfying to leave a bright pink handprint on the dimpled, pale skin of her wobbly ass.

Even Lance knew it couldn’t last forever. He knew when it was their last night together before Lydia did. He made the most of it, lassoing her long nipples and tying them off to opposite walls of the office tight enough to actually tug them outward and upward putting strain on her puffy teats while preventing milk from leaking.

Lydia was perched on the edge of the couch with her hands bound behind her back trapped. Trying to lean back would tug her poor nipple even more, as would standing or moving side to side. But sitting still was just as painful as her heavy udders were being held up by her sensitive nips as the thread dug into them every time she took a breath.

Lance was in his chair smiling.

“Look at you, such a fat, dumb cow. Every pound on you gloriously obese ass is from my buffet. I’ve conditioned that fat gut to be hungry all the time to keep it growing. When you’re not in here being stuffed you’re snacking out at the bar as you work. I bet you eat like a pig at home too.”

Lance leaned forward and patted her belly apron that was hanging down between her enormous thighs.

“Too bad I can’t keep you.”

Lydia’s eyes went wide.

“I know. I’d love to keep you here and stuff you until you’re too big to fit out this office door, but you have to go to the buffet in Billonsberg.”

Lydia was dumbfounded.

Lance chuckled. “Management needs an assistant manager at that branch. I recommended you.  You’ll make a great assistant manager. No one is better suited for it than you. Plus it’s time for you to move on. We’ve had our fun.”

With that Lance cut the thread holding up Lydia’s udders and the slapped heavily down onto her belly.

“You’ll start tomorrow.”

Lydia moaned with disappointment.

“After I stuff you with everything that is left of the buffet and then fuck you like a cheap slut.”

Lydia moaned with passionate anticipation.

Lydia did make a great assistant manager. Not for very long though. She was quickly made manager. She was a natural. Eventually she would go on to be a regional manager. She was friendly with customers and could easily relate to the types that came into a buffet. Seeing her abundant form people were put at ease and relaxed and ate while they were there and came back often. Lydia’s stores all did record business year in and year out.

As Lydia’s responsibilities and success increased so did her weight. Once she dried up after ending her fling with Lance her metabolism ground to a halt and her weight exploded that first year away. And while it slowed it never really stopped. She had been conditioned to be hungry all the time without even realizing it. It was something of her trademark to always be eating.

Lydia’s hips grew prohibitively wide. She had no hope of seeing her feet or the floor around her. Fitting through doors took careful planning. Even walking was a slow, arduous process. It was hard to ascertain body parts on her. Ankles rolls hide most of her bloated feet. Her calves looked to be 30 inches around. Gobs of blubber hung over her knees from thighs that were made up of a series of globs, bulges and ridges that transitioned to pussy bulge and belly apron and love handles to saddlebag without much difference.

No one knew for sure what she weighed. Rumors put her anywhere from 450 to over 600.

Lydia never married. She never really dated much after leaving Lance. A lot of that was due to her throwing herself in her work that she loved. A fair amount of it could also be contributed to Lance making her into a fat, ugly cow that no one else wanted. Actually the latter isn’t so much a fact as something Lydia liked to remember when she was alone with her vibrator. She’d picture Lance saying it to her as he stuffed ravioli into her gaping mouth as she sat tied on his couch.

Truth was Lydia remained hung up on Lance. She never went back to his buffet. She respected him for ending it when he did and recommending her for the job she had. He was of course married so Lydia didn’t want to lessen the memory of what they had by doing something rash.

She did think of him often, especially when a transfer would come to her store that was female with red marks on their wrists and looked as if they might have gained some weight recently. The thought of what her ex-lover might have done to the impressionable little sub gave her tingles that she had to extinguish with a platter of fried chicken from the buffet.
Buffet Bound
Kind of a rambling piece that has been sitting a while. My intention was for Lance to be a recurring character, but this is all that ever came out of it. There is feeding, WG and some S&M stuff involved.
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Molly Megan was the product of a gluttonous overindulgent culture. Born to white trash in a trailer part. Her father was a cheating user and her mother was a needy codependent whore who became a compulsive eater as a way to deal with the louse of a husband and the daughter she never wanted.

As the husband cheated, mother ate. When the baby cried, mother ate. When she was stressed out from a day with a whiny baby and he didn’t come home, mother ate. When he yelled at her for being so fat, mother ate.

As far back as Molly could remember mother was an enormous sack of blubber who was only happy when she lost herself in food.

Molly watched as her mother ate herself to over 400 pounds before her dad took off for good.

Meanwhile Molly herself had become morbidly obese just by being around her mother. She was quite the butterball when mom finally snapped out of it.

Once her dad had left Molly watched her mom struggle and fight to diet down to a respectable 250 and become attractive enough to lure another man.

Molly was confused and disappointed. This wasn’t the mother she had been accustomed too. This slutty mother was even less attentive than fat mom. There was no sharing of a pile of pizzas or tubs of ice cream. This mom hurried out the door in a tiny dress and didn’t return until morning.

Then a man came to stay with Molly and her mother.

Ed was handsome, but shifty. Not unlike the men mom usually hooked up with, but this one was here to stay.

Molly watched with secret glee as Ed turned out to be a feeder who prayed on mother's insecurities until she was once again a helpless compulsive eater.

He rewarded her with food, made her favorites available when she was stressed and increased her portions until her figure once again began to expand.

Molly was secretly happy to see her mother return to the blob she had come to associate with mom. The blob who was always there and not out slutting herself at bars. The mom who let her eat whatever she wanted.

Even more secretly Molly was happy to have Ed around.

By then Molly was coming into her own as a teenage girl and found herself having strange feelings bubble to the surface as she watched Ed feed mom package after package of hot dogs until she cried and begged him to stop. It was fascinating watching him play upon her compulsion with such glee and at the same time seeing mom unable to resist falling back into her old self no matter how much she tried.

But for Molly there was a feeling above and beyond the fascination of it all, an excitement that made her feel funny inside. She wanted more. More than just watching the steady transformation of her mom from the overweight slut she worked so hard to become to the blob she was meant to be.

Eventually molly became good at cracking their door after Ed dragged her off to bed and called her a fat worthless pig until she agreed to give him head. It was her first exposure to passion and affection.

Molly was obsessed with mom's constantly stuffed belly on permanent display since Ed took her shirts. The jiggling fat that wrapped around her sides, the taut pink skin, the wide, sore stretch marks. It was amazing what Ed could do with a few crates of food service slop.

The rest of what mom was becoming was just as amazing.

Her face grew fat and bloated, nearly unrecognizable. So many chins and such pudgy cheeks.

Her upper arms grew into wide, dimpled slabs of beef that hung over her elbows in sheets. They looked heavy and cumbersome.

Mother's belly was an enormous thick slab of blubber that forced her to sit with her fatty thighs spread so the flab could cascade between her legs, hanging lower and lower as Ed fattened her up to her former peak.

Somewhere over 350 as mother became more inclined to sit on the couch all day Ed picked an evening to spike her sugary sodas with vodka until she was incoherent and barely able to sit up. Ed brought over an old prison buddy who did his tattoos when he was inside and had him ink FAT PIG in big bold letters over and under her belly button. It was hard for mom to see past her chest and the ridge of her belly but Ed’s cackling laughter and taunting when she sobered up the next day let her know it was there.

All the while Molly looked on, intrigued.

And Ed knew Molly was watching.

“Having fun watching your mother grow into a useless whale?” He asked as she stared during a feeding session. “All she's good for anymore is eating. She's lucky I'm entertained by seeing her grow so disgustingly huge.”

While Molly was certainly less than average in the IQ department she certainly knew how mean spirited Ed was. Thing was this was what she associated with male attention and relationships. Just as she associated her mother figure as being a morbidly obese blob and became unsettled when she was anything else, she had been conditioned by watching her mother's eating compulsion be so thoroughly exploited to think that was how men and women interacted. It didn't help matters that she was "home schooled" and had no other frame of reference. And it really didn't help matters that she developed a crush on Ed, who despite some obvious grooming flaws was not too hard to look at.

Even worse was that Ed had not so pure thoughts of Molly since his first date with her mother and had been making sure Molly was barraged with all her favorite junk food ever since he moved in. Her already overstuffed physique inflated accordingly.

Molly gained different from her belly-heavy mother.

After developing at an early age weight gain and genetics continued their work. By 15 tubby Molly was a G cup.

Molly was balanced by a wide, round bottom as well. Under Ed's overfeeding she developed a belly, but remained hourglass in shape for the most part.

Ed watched with wide eyes as innocent, simple Molly outgrew her clothes and waddled her 5' frame around the house, bouncing her bra-busters as she did.

He started having her do chores like give mom a bath and became very touchy feely with her. It was not uncommon for him to firmly slap her wobbly ass or poke a swaying boob.

Molly loved the attention.

When she was eating he would frequently come up behind her and whisper things in her ear like:

“Keep eating, so you can grow round and soft like your mother.”

“You look so cute when you eat. You should do it all the time.”

“Another 50 pounds and my cute little piglet will graduate to sexy sow.”

Molly was conditioned to think nothing wrong about the interaction and actually loved the attention from her not so secret crush.

Molly's curiosity turned to jealousy as she watched Ed spend all his time force feeding her mother. And when she was able to peek through the door as Ed forced her to her knees for a pounding that sent her into gasping, whimpering orgasms she would close her eyes and imagine it was her as she rubbed herself.

Mother seemed oblivious to what was going on. Either indulging her eating compulsion to painful excess, recovering from the effects of such excess on her bloated, unhealthy body or just dealing with the strain of living a life as a woman on the brink of 400 pounds, mother was lucky to know what day of the week it was much less pick up on a growing romance between her daughter and her husband.

Mother and daughter continued to grow under Ed's reign.

Mother zoomed past her previous peak weight and rocketed toward 500. She stayed mobile, but was much more high maintenance. Ed made caring for her near quarter ton mother on Molly's list of chores.

Twice a day Molly rubbed mother's feet and calves that would swell up noticeable after she walked any distance. Her daily pill taking for her many issues that stemmed from being so morbidly obese was Molly's job as well. A daily sponge bath was also a must. All the many creases and crevices would get ripe and or rashy if a day was skipped.

Feeding also became Molly's responsibility. Ed could barely contain his arousal when he watched his step daughter feed her mother fattening slop.

Molly was not without issue either. Her short frame was pushing 300 out of shape pounds. She was pretty much always sweating. Her breasts hurt her back from their massive heft and the fact that Ed hadn't gotten her a bra since she snapped the clasp on her I cups didn’t help.

Her ass has grown big enough to lose its round shape and bulge and crease in places. Her gym shorts fit her like panties and caused her to be constantly tugging at them.

Molly's crush was more than out in the open. She constantly whined for affection from her manipulative stepfather who kept her barefoot and rarely left her out of the house.

“Please, daddy,” she begged when he smacked her as she snacked on cheesecake in the kitchen. “Mom's asleep on the couch. Take me into your bed.”

Ed grinned. “Why would I do that when I can ride your mom's big ass? I can she plow her from behind any time I want. It'll be another 50 pounds before she's truly too big to screw.”

“I can put that on her by the end of the month, daddy. I promise.”

Molly wasn't kidding. Before long mom was over the 500 pound mark. Not much more than a compulsive eating blob. In bed she would simply lie there panting as Ed fucked a fold of blubber.

The combination of the limited ways to have sex with a quarter ton sack of lard and Molly's genetic tendency to gain in her back-breaking breasts had Ed finally giving into his urges.

“You feed the whale all this and I'll take you into my bed,” he told Molly as he handed her a half dozen burgers and two blueberry pies.

Molly hand fed her mother the burgers. Mom's compulsion carrying her through her fullness. As she wavered Molly crammed the berry goop past her plump lips until ever last bit was gone and mother was mother more than a sweaty mound of quivering flesh spilling over the sides of the couch.

Molly then waddled quickly to the bedroom where she shed the clothes she was already bursting out of.

Ed sat in a chair and watched as his obese and impossibly busty step-daughter danced naked for him, her pendulous knockers flopping against her soft flesh. Her thighs slapping against each other as she tried to strike sexy poses. Her hips continuing to wobble even when she stood still.

It was almost too much for Ed to bear. He didn't have to for long.

Molly started to scream and then Ed’s entire view went dark and an incredible pressure weighed down on him. He tried to scream but his breath had been crushed out of him.

“Mom what are you doing!” Molly shrieked.

Mother was winded from her trek from the couch to the bedroom and while not as mobility challenged as she had let Ed and Molly think, she was tired. She knew the police would be here soon and that by then Ed would be eager to confess to whatever she wanted him to.

Mother had known she was a terrible parent and nothing would change that, but her compulsive and manipulating boyfriend had made it hard for her to even think of changing things. Catching glimpses of Ed fondling her daughter got to be the last straw.

She simply waited for the right moment and took it.

The police took Ed away once they had 5 officers that could lift mother off him.

Ed had confessed to things mom didn't even know he did as the life was slowly being crushed from him.

At the trial he stood no chance when the facts were laid out and the jury saw what he had turned mother and daughter into.

It was all over.

Mother got another shot at correcting her compulsive eating. It took a while but she made progress. Her weight dropped below 300. The key was no boyfriends. She was able to concentrate with no outside distractions.

At 300 she felt light as a feather even though she still was quite overweight. With loose skin combined with heavy pockets of fat she was less giant blob and more melting wax figure. Not traditionally attractive in any sense. But since she felt tons better and wasn't interested in finding a man in the least she stayed quite happy at that stage. Every once in a while she would allow herself a binge weekend which was why she never made it much below 300 pounds.

Molly was a mess after Ed was taken away. She had therapy to help her work through normal relationships versus what her experiences had been. Eventually she made progress.

Her weight dropped below 200. Still quite chubby for a woman of her height, but with her buxom shape she had no problem attracting men. She dated around and eventually got pregnant. She moved in with mom who was disappointed in daughter but glad for the company.

It wasn’t a perfect relationship.

Mom took advantage of the distraction of caring for her needy daughter to keep her mind off food and saw her weight drop to near 200, her lowest in as long as she could remember.

Molly on the other hand took advantage of her mother’s kindness and became lazy. Molly ballooned up to 300 with child. And after the child was born she stayed with mom and grew to a barely waddling 380.

Still Molly fared much better than Ed who got more than just prison time. He got a unique makeover.

One of the police officers at the scene when he confessed was so disgusted and appalled they pulled a few favors to make sure Ed was properly attended too during his trial and arraignment before being sentenced to prison.

The police officer knew how prison worked. While the slim and not very imposing Ed would certainly take his lumps in prison as is, the officer knew a way to get the creep his just “desserts” so to speak.

Twice a day, usually before and after trial, guards would stuff Ed full of cheesecakes laced with estrogen and BGH. After the three month trial wrapped up the formerly lanky 140 pounder was a 200 pounder with a very fat and very, very feminine lower half.

The judge, a friend of the plotting cop, had no issues dragging out the sentencing while Ed stayed at the court house holding cell and continued to receive his twice daily treats.

The once angry and mean spirited Edward became a very docile and emotional Eddie. With longer hair, soft pale skin, a curvy, exaggerated pear shape and breasts with puffy sensitive nipples that could be considered almost a handful Ed was barely recognizable and would have made a decent looking woman outside the prison walls.

By the day of his transfer to prison Eddie was waddling around at close to 300 of pounds of wobbling ass and thighs in a daze of estrogen overload.

His first night in prison was unspeakably horrific for the soft, slow blubberbutt.
Luckily for Eddie a powerful prisoner claimed him and he was somewhat protected. He spent his days naked on a leash being fed pancakes to keep and even grow his feminine shape and his nights being ridden like a mechanical bull.

Eddie was an ideal sex kitten or fucakble fat cat as it were. His face was round and feminine, but stayed merely chubby as the rest of him swelled.

His breasts soft, squeezable cantaloupes, his belly a wide, drooping apron of sweaty blubber that more than hid the tiny useless nub his dick had become.

Eddie’s ass swelled to ass-tronimical proportions. Nearly 90 inches around while his thighs were equally caked with fat at 60 inches around their widest point. Poor Eddie struggled to keep up with his owner when he was pulled around on his leash.

While Eddie never embraced his role he became used to it as his new normal. He became quite adept at sucking dick or bringing someone off between his jiggly bosom.
As his ass swelled his owner became somewhat obsessed with not only maintain his feminine form, but growing it. Crate after crate of frozen pancakes were delivered right to cell for that very purpose.

Eddie’s life had come full circle, from being the one in control, forcing gluttony onto a partner for his own pleasure, to being the object of someone else’s affection and being made to glut himself to become the exaggerated ideal of his new partner.
Fat Filth
A sordid tale of compulsion, lust and manipulation.

There is feeding, weight gain, humiliation and even a little role reversal.
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deviantID

elroycohen
Elroy
United States
Current Residence: Hell on Earth
Favourite genre of music: Rap/Rock
MP3 player of choice: iPhone
Shell of choice: Cassette
Wallpaper of choice: A giant airship
Favourite cartoon character: Johnny Bravo
Personal Quote: Don't quote me.
Interests
I put up a couple new stories. These ones are a little specific since they were commisions that I did that have been finally okayed to put here. Hopefully they are at least a bit entertaining for everyone else.

Still filtering through ideas for my next project so we'll have to see what's next.
  • Listening to: 90's Dance
  • Reading: Geek Magazine
  • Watching: You're the Worst
  • Playing: Marvel Puzzle Quest
  • Eating: Burgers
  • Drinking: Lots

Friends

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:iconcartoonking1:
cartoonking1 Featured By Owner Dec 25, 2015
Merry Christmas. :hug:
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:iconelroycohen:
elroycohen Featured By Owner Dec 28, 2015
A belated one to you as well along with a happy new year!
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:iconcartoonking1:
cartoonking1 Featured By Owner Dec 28, 2015
Same to you pal : hug:  Hope you had some good stuff this year. :) 
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:iconenergytobeauty:
EnergyToBeauty Featured By Owner Sep 28, 2015
Thank you very much for considering my stuff worth to be included into your favorites.
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:iconcoke-zer0:
COKE-ZER0 Featured By Owner Aug 15, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Man I swore I was watching you. Well everything is fixed now XD.
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:iconelroycohen:
elroycohen Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2015
Don't think I think I changed anything. Same old account I started with. Thanks for the watch. 
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:iconfanedfox:
fanedfox Featured By Owner Feb 10, 2015
Thank you for visiting my page.  I enjoyed looking through your favorites selection.

Ned Fox
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:iconsyphon77:
syphon77 Featured By Owner Aug 24, 2014
You've spoiled me, 3 stories on a week. I always come back like "what this time!? :-D" and then I'm like "he's still human? Ugh!"
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:iconobesequeen:
ObeseQueen Featured By Owner May 19, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the kind words, and for faving :+fav: Cupcake Bride, Cheesecake Wife.  It means a lot coming from one of my favorite authors!
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:iconelroycohen:
elroycohen Featured By Owner May 21, 2014
You're welcome. It was a great read.
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