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Drawing x Start Oekaki

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Anonymous 02/22/2017 (Wed) 10:37:22 No. 603 [Reply]
Here, I wrote a POV weight giant/mild macro story for /trash/ and thought you guys might like it too. Enjoy.


You wake up the one morning with a painful thud as you bump your head against your bedroom wall. Cursing under your breath, you rub your sore head and try to go back to sleep. But then, it suddenly dawns on you. How could you have hit your head on this wall, when your feet can reach the wall on the opposite side of the room over 10, maybe 15 feet away? You open your eyes what on earth your toes could be touching, only to be met with the shock of your life. Your belly had grown to a massive size, far beyond anything humanly possible. It towers over your head like a terrifying mountain, as if any second, it could reach down and swallow you whole.

You bring up your arms to try and confirm if the gigantic dome of flesh was truly your stomach, only to notice they had swelled up too. Your arms were enormous, having grown bigger, bulkier and dare you even think it, longer during the night. They were the limbs of a monster, each of them bigger than a whole normal sized human being. Had you transformed into some sort of horrible beast during the night, a thing from some forgotten fable or was this simply a nightmare?

If this truly was some nightmare, then you had to wake up. You try to raise one of your arm, hoping to slap yourself awake.. Despite it's tremendous weight and bulk, you lift your titanic with arm with ease. It seems that not only had you gained endless mass during the night, but strength as well. A wave of fear overcomes you, as you can only imagine what sort of creature you've become. You bring your hand down and smack your humongous belly, hoping the impact would tear yourself away from this nightmare.

But to your sorrow, nothing changed, save for a slight stinging pain on your swaying stomach. This was reality. This was real. Whatever fearsome, enormous being you had become, bloated beyond all believe, it was the real you. You can only look up at your gigantic belly, still jiggling and shaking from the impact of your hand. It was almost as if it was dancing on top of you, mocking you. Despite the assault it had suffered, it knew that you were now part of it and it was part of you. Bound together in the same body, forever.

As you feel you heart sink lower that it ever has before, you notice something strange about your skin. It was dare, you say it, flawless. There was not a single sign of a wrinkle or a bruise or even a pimple anywhere on your fat body. You swore that your skin glowed with a divine aura, as if it was some otherworldly deity. Hypnotised by your own beautiful flesh, you gently rest you strong hands onto your vast, unyielding stomach. Your skin felt like the finest silk known to man. The kind even the highest kings would beg to glaze at. And your flesh was so soft and wonderful to touch. Your fat was like an inviting pool you wished you could dive into and never return.

My god, what were you saying? Shaking your head, you pull your mind out from this sick fantasy. Was it not enough for whatever cruel forces were behind all this? They had transformed your body into this towering mountain of flesh, now they wanted to drive your mind to madness? Perhaps, you've already gone mad.

But regardless of whatever has cursed you with this bloated form, you knew you couldn't take it lying down. If you ever wanted to return to normal, you would have to get up. But trapped inside this tiny box that was once your bedroom, getting around was difficult. With every movement your gigantic body made, every jiggle your sea of flab preformed, every slight shift of weight you had, the room would creek and rattle, terrified of the monster trapped inside it.

Slowly and carefully, you manage to stand up, only to bump your head on the ceiling. Rubbing the top of your scalp, you glaze around the room. It like being trapped inside a doll house. All of your belongings, now nothing more than tiny parodies of themselves. But maybe, in a vain hope, that's exactly what has happened. Someone has trapped you inside a toy doll house as a joke! You pull your curtains open, hoping against all hope to find a pack of pranksters waiting outside, ready to free you from this madness. But to your horror, all you find thought the window is the world outside, just as it was yesterday. Only it had shrunk, just as your room had shrunk. Dishearten, you close the curtains and decided you should at least put on some clothes on.

Wearing your old clothes was out of the question. Given your new enormous size, they were little use to you other than hand puppets or handkerchiefs. Perhaps later on, you could sew all your old shirts together to create one that would fit your bulky form. But for now, you would have to find an alternative. Searching the room however, proved to be rather difficult. Every time you turned around, your rear end, now wider than a family Sudan, would knock something over. And every time you turned back to see what had fallen over, your behind would knock three more things over, as if it was your own personal trickster.

Frustrated, you turn you head to face your own own ass, only to notice how perfectly smooth and round it was, sporting not a single flaw. It was if your behind was crafted by the great masters of the renaissance. Not wishing to fall in love with your own ass, you close your eyes and shake your head. Opening you eyes once more, you discover the ruins of your bed on the floor. It had been crushed by your ballooning form during the night. Now all that was left of it was flatten springs, wood chips and bed sheets. But there was a idea. One bed sheet wouldn't be big enough to wrap around your impossibly wide body, but tie a few of them together and you might have something that you could use to cover your shame. Picking up the sheets, you fashion a sort of mini-dress out of them. Hardly formal ware, but it would do.

Now properly dressed (or as properly dressed as your going to get,) you now face your biggest challenge, escaping your bedroom. The bedroom door, a luxury you had once taken for granted, now stood before you, little better than a doggy door for a very narrow hound. But it was your only way out of your room. Of course, there was also the window, but letting your neighbours see you like this was out of the question. You bend down ( your humongous rump thankfully only knocking over a lamp as you do so,) and try to fit your arm though the door. You huge arm manages to get halfway through, only to get wedged in the doorway. You sigh and pull your arm back. Next you try your head. It gets through with room to spare, but the body its attached, you bloated, monstrous body remains stuck on the other side.

There was only once thing for it. You would have to try and squeeze yourself through the doorway and pray for a miracle. You press your gigantic being against the doorway, pushing and grinding and trying to force your way through. The wall, under assault by your massive bulk, groans and screams and bends, until finally, the wall comes crashing down, throwing you onto the living room floor.

And there you are. An impossibly huge, monstrously fat, inhumanly bloated giant, lying on the floor. Surrounded by the dust and rubble that was once your bedroom wall. What a vast, swollen monster you are. Perhaps, it's best to remain on the floor like the mountain of flab you are.

Then you hear a loud grumbling noise, as if a fearsome beast has awoken. You realise its coming from your stomach. With all the excitement of discovering your massive metamorphosis, you've completely forgotten about breakfast. You pick yourself up, taking special note to not bump your head on the ceiling again and walk to the kitchen. As the house shakes with every step you take, you hope a good meal might allow you to figure out what you're going to do next. Of course, part of you wonders, with this new vast and possibly bottomless belly of yours, just how much you can eat in one sitting.
I like it.
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>>1027
Thanks, have some more.

You march towards the kitchen, each step you take sounding like a boom of thunder. Your massive blubber belly swings left and right as you walk, it's movements wild and uncontrollable. You pause for a moment to study your mighty mass of flab. Your stomach was just as prefect as it was back in you bedroom, smooth, soft and without a single flaw. But now in the better light of the living room, you noticed your skin has become quite pale during the night. It was now chalky white, with a light blue hue. It was like you body glowed with moonlight. You couldn't help but become enthralled by the beauty of this gigantic, out worldly bulk you've been granted. You shake your hips left and right, causing your whole body to jiggle. You become hypnotised by the wondrous dance of your fat. It's as beautiful as watching the ocean waves crash against the shoreline.

Suddenly, you're awoken from your trance by a loud growling noise emerging from you stomach. Like a wild beast, it roars in angry at your delay to fill it with food and decided it needed to remind you who was your new master was.

Before you was your kitchen, where, just like everyone else, is where you keep your food. Your belly rumbled in hunger, as if it was trying to pull you forward. But blocking your way into the kitchen was a wall with yet another doorway too small for your bloated frame to fit through. With cold efficiency, you place your hands onto either side of the door frame and tear the wall away as if it was paper. You're not sure why you destroyed your own wall with such brutality. Maybe you simply decided that since you've already destroyed one wall this morning, it hardly matter if you tore down another one. Perhaps you've been driven mad with hunger, reduced to wild beast. Maybe you've simply lost your humanity with your transformation. But regardless of why, when the dust finally cleared, you had created a hole in your wall large enough for you to squeeze through.

Making your way into the kitchen like a looming titan, you open up the pantry and puck out a box of cereal. Despite it being a large, family-sized box, it was now barely as big as the palm of your hand. You rip open the box and pour the cereal into your mouth, swallowing it in one gulp. To you, it was hardly a mouthful. “More” your body cries out “MORE!” You swallow a loaf of bread as if it was a crumb. You guzzle down bottles of milk was if they were thimbles. You devoured a whole bowl of fruit as if it was a single grape. The slice of cake you were saving barely registers as it gulp down the contents of your fridge. Nothing in that kitchen was safe from your feeding frenzy. You eat and you eat and you eat. Your body is overwhelmed with excitement as you do so, as if eating was now your one and only purpose.

And then you run out of food. You've eaten every last scarp in the kitchen. You look up and see the destruction you've caused. Your once full kitchen has now been striped bare. Cupboard doors have been ripped off their handles. Your fridge now lay thrown onto the floor. You even notice bite marks across the kitchen bench. Worst still, after eating everything in the kitchen, you still feel hungry. You may as well been inhaling dust for it did to fill you up.

Embarrassed and ashamed, you can only wonder what you were going to do now. You would have to go out and buy more food, that much was sure. But how could you go out looking like this? How could you afford to keep yourself fed? How could you even go to work now? You look down at your monstrous form and sigh.

Suddenly, you feel something just below your bottom lip. A tiny bit of food you failed to eat. Well, if you can no longer look like a normal person, at least you can be clean. Reaching into an open cupboard, you pull out a reflective silver tray and looked at your own face. What you found staring back you was stunning. Your face, it was beautiful. Soft, plump, but with a wonderful aura not of this world. Your skin was as flawless as the rest of your body. Your hair was now long and inky blue, shining like a clear night sky. But your eyes, your eyes were your most amazing feature. They glowed bright blue as if you had heavenly stars instead of eyeballs. It was if your face was that of a strange and dazzling deity. Just what were you?
>>1088
This is pretty good, the perspective is well executed. Would love to see some more.

Reverse Health issues Anonymous 12/27/2016 (Tue) 05:05:52 No. 156 [Reply]
Stories where the gainer is not affected adversely by their weight or becomes stronger.

http://kodos11.deviantart.com/art/A-Wish-Fulfilled-268949103
Nearly anything by Kodos11 is incredible. His Valentines day special has some height growth as well as weight gain.
I just finished this series if you're interested.
http://fav.me/dar0oi7

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Sex as the vector to weight gain. Anonymous 01/12/2017 (Thu) 11:20:34 No. 296 [Reply]
Are there any story where sex is the thing that causes the weight gain? I know it seems somewhat backwards considering the site's fetish but I don't think i've read many a story like that.

I do remember this one story about a guy that was taking supplements and while he was becoming more fit, one of the girls he was fucking was growing fatter.
1 post omitted.
The story you are probably referring to I think is Unexplained Additions by guhbone

http://www.dimensionsmagazine.com/forums/showthread.php?t=28528
>>298
http://www.dimensionsmagazine.com/dimtext/stories/table_turning.html

I really wish weight gain via cum was more of thing.
>>300

Neat story, and yeah I really wish it was more common too. I guess it goes back to that thing where people really do dislike the idea of sex and their kinks meeting.
I just finished this series if you're interested.
http://fav.me/dar0oi7
Wrong thread. My bad…

The Slowest Champion -Revisited- riptoryx 12/18/2016 (Sun) 00:28:59 No. 67 [Reply]
Back in 2012, FlamingHades published a nifty little story called "The Slowest Champion." A story about weight gain and role-reversal, it is noteworthy for being not a very “nice” story. It casts weight gain in an objectively negatively light. It flirts with themes of punishment, humiliation, degradation, disempowerment, failure, defeat, and shame. It lacks a traditional happy ending. Those are all things I love about it, and they are big part of why it ranks among my recent(ish) favorites in the realm of weight gain fiction.

That said, I have always regarded “The Slowest Champion” to be a bit of a diamond-in-the-rough. While powered by great ideas and a sense of energy that builds towards one of the most elegantly-simple yet crushingly-effective conclusions I’ve ever read in this genre, in other respects some parts of the story seemed to me unpolished, or simply incomplete.

With blessing from FlamingHades, this is my attempt to give that underappreciated gem a little TLC, to help bring out its dark inner sparkle.

A story…

Written by me, Riptoryx.
Edited by realistic dark weight gain erotica luminary (and one my personal favorite authors in this genre), Maverick.
With creative consultation from “Ali.”
Based on the original "The Slowest Champion" by FlamingHades.

Single-sentence summary: “A champion high school swimmer’s figure and fortunes are undone when she succumbs to the temptations presented by her own success.”

Read it here: http://riptoryx.deviantart.com/
FYI, the story is now complete. You can read the whole thing on my DeviantArt page: http://riptoryx.deviantart.com/
Dude, this was one of the best stories I've read in this… Er, genre. It was a great read. Thanks!
>>800
Thanks! I appreciate the comment!

Green text stories Anonymous 03/15/2017 (Wed) 12:38:49 No. 776 [Reply]
I always enjoyed this on the old bbwchan and kinda sad to see there isn't one here. Some of the experiences were hot to read about, one that stuck out to me was a dude who was friends with a college freshman whof ballooned in weight but she had a boyfriend and he had a girlfriend and broke up at times that didn't align with each other. Anyone care to get one started?

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Patreon/Paywall/greedy bastard thread Z.O.B. Industries 03/12/2017 (Sun) 18:25:31 No. 752 [Reply]
I didn't see one in the catalogue, so I'm making a thread for writers and creators of smut who want to get paid for it, where we can offer each other tips and general advice on how to be better Ferengi.

First off, here's my new patreon page:

https://www.patreon.com/zobindustries

Old stuff like Demon's Feast will be going up for free, new stuff is $1 patron fee for now, might change as I adjust to the new business model. Very excited to get back in the weight gain fiction game, I feel like I've been gone too long.

Anyone else here running a patreon/have open commissions they want to hawk? Tips on making dosh from fats writing? What's your hustle, famalams?

Anonymous 12/27/2016 (Tue) 14:44:57 No. 161 [Reply]
This was something I wrote for the old chan. I tightened it up, and tacked on a little more to the most recent part. Its got a bit of hypnosis, and a little bit of bondage for the time being. If that's your jam, then enjoy!

***

She probed the aching globe of tummy resting lightly on her thighs. The cold air did little to soothe the lingering sting of stretching skin. She could feel the swirl of gurgling gasses and mounds of sweet slurry pressing hard just below the here ebony flesh. She kneaded the palms of her hand deep into her sides, which would surely be scarred from her careless gluttony. There was no give left in her glistening skin.

She stared in awe at herself in the mirror.

Lifting one manicured hand from her needy stomach she lifted the curtain of braids from her face, expertly twisting them into a tidy knot at the nape of her neck. Two wild green eyes met hers and then fluttered over her newly swollen self and the nest of wrappers adorning her bedspread.

Her brain couldn’t recall just how much she had eaten. She remembers getting a unusual text and only awoke to the splintering pain of taut skin beneath her navel. Wiping the remains of what smelled like icing from her heavy lower lip she felt a surge of pressure begin to rise. Her forehead grew slick with sweat as her stomach felt packed tighter than an aerosol can.

Her full lips pursed and then parted to release a sputtering belch. The thunderous sound would have surprised her more, had the immediate release of pressure not caused her to slink deep into her sheets. Her hands found themselves swirling over her belly.

Her fingers wormed deeper into the softening skin, her sparkling nails disappeared into the freshly forming rolls of skin and traced the edge if her navel.

She closed her eyes, exhaling the lingering taste of the food she had unknowingly devoured. Her mind drifted between resting and waking. During this mental limbo she saw herself, staring blankly at her phone. Her nostrils flared and breath grew frantic. Her glowing green eyes were wild and wide. She began forcing fistfuls of sweets past her full eager lips. One hand after another, one wrapper at a time her stomach began to surge forward.

Just as she began to snore, a vibration shook her from slumber. She laboriously rolled over, freeing the buzzing device from beneath herself. Her heavily middle protested as she shifted her weight.

Wiping the sleep from her eyes she scanned her phone and read the glowing notification.

Her eyes widened, her nostrils flared, and the hollow echo of her gurgling stomach filled the empty room.

1 Unread Message, Unknown Sender:
“EAT”
1 post and 1 image omitted.
>>162
Jasaylnn’s ancient automobile puttered into the gym’s parking lot. The car bucked as it made its way over the curb and onto the freshly paved asphalt. She could feel her middle tremble around the constricting seatbelt and tried to direct her attention elsewhere.

Like twinkling bulbs on a
Christmas tree, each empty speck of sky was dotted with glowing signs: Burgers, beer and burritos. The hollow gurgle of her gut echoed up to the base of her throat. She scanned the lot for a spot.

“Well,” Jasaylnn mused, gripping the round flap of flesh that refused to be vacuum-packed inside her straining shirt, “At least it technically fits?”

Rummaging through her trunk, she wormed her head through an oversized sweatshirt. She slithered each arm into the sleeves and tucked her hands into the large center pocket. She could feel an unfamiliar warmth radiating from her belly.

Curiously her fingers betrayed her and she found herself kneading the area. Her stomach was so much softer now. She sank her fingers into the new canyons and valleys, plotting out the recently developing terrain. She could feel herself skin filling the space between her fingers, her nails, like talons clung to each new bit of bulk.

She was lost in herself for a moment, until her knuckle brushed against something unusual. She pulled the plastic packaging from the cavernous fabric and dumped the contents into her palm.

A rainbow march of rounded candies crawled across her palm like ants. Her nostrils flared, pulling in the alluring scent of sugar. She could feel a smoldering haze drape over her mind like a quilt as her hand mechanically lifted the miniature mountain of candied jewels to her lips.

Her hand came to rest just at the edge of her chin. Slowly her bottom lip quivered, and reached for the forbidden treat. Her tongue slipped from her mouth, desperately trying to shovel the candies into her waiting maw.

Hear breathing grew slow and heavy, blowing back the hypnotic sent of artificial sugar, fogging her senses even further. Her body was on fire. Somehow she knew the fire would consume her if she allowed her stowaway treats passed her begging lips.

Something in her head struggled to combat the flames and resisted the glistening sticky sirens.

“Is that you Jazz?!” Tynice’s voice cracked through the air like a whip.

Jasalynn turned cold, quickly shaking the loose candies into her pocket.

“Sorry about that! I’ve been a space cadet all weekend. You know how bad finals can be,” Jasalynn flipped a loose braid from her vision and flashed a nervous smile.

The two friends shrugged in agreement and made their way towards the glowing glass doors of the gym. With each step the candies, clattering like pool balls in her pocket pulled her attention towards her rumbling tummy.

Her top teeth pinned down her wanting lower lip.
>>163
“I think I’m going to sweat off the keg I polished off last night on the treadmill. I can feel a beer belly brewing.” Tynice unzipped her track jacket, revealing six raised abdominals that sprouted from her toned tummy, “You?”

Jasalynn’s hands reflexively gripped the base of her sweatshirt, pulling at the fabric slowly until the elastic band strummed against her newly inflate spare tire. Her cheeks sizzled with embarrassment and her emerald eyes flew to Tynice.

“Sweating it off? I’ll leave the sweater on then. I could stand to lose some water weight!” Jasalynn stammered, tugging the loose fabric over her middle. Her nervousness, was unnoticed by Tynice, whose chin length auburn bob bounced towards two unoccupied exercise machines.

Jasalynn, settled herself on the machine, turning the dial and matching her stride to the rolling rubber rotating beneath her feet. She set her pace just above a stroll. Her breathing steadied. As each heel met the accelerating surface, the shockwave echoed through her middle, jiggling her pregnant pouch of candies.

The rhythmic rattle of candies demanded her attention. Each sugary sphere drummed against her bouncing belly like impatient fingers. The suggestive thrumming reignited the smoking cinders in her mind. The fire behind her eyes arose again, pouring through the grooves in her cortex.
She unknowingly drove her right hand into her sweater’s center pocket.

Her left hand swirled the dial on the treadmill, hastening the pounding of her feet and the hypnotic bobbing of her needy tummy. Her fingers swept the lining of her pocket, trapping the treats and pinning them close to her warm middle.

Beneath the flowing fabric concealing her torso, sweat dotted her skin like water beading on a cool glass. A rebellious droplet raced across her paunch and settled into her deepening navel. The sensation triggered a subconscious eruption and fire quickly incinerated her inhibitions.

Jasalynn’s plump lower lip hung limp and trembled in time with her running pace. Mechanically her right hand shot from her pocket like a rocket, corking her eager mouth with candy. The surge of sugar carpeted her tongue, electrifying her senses. She felt her eyes roll back, behind her fluttering lashes and she blacked out.

***

Her hands were daggers, carving through countless logoed paper bags. Her cheeks, coated with a glittering layer of grease, swelled with partly chewed bits of fried fatty foods. Jasaylnn’s jaw ached as her molars gnashed at each mouthful. Her tongue guided each nugget and patty between her crumb-covered lips, occasionally chasing a dribble of spittle down her chin that desperate to remain undigested.

A landslide of greasy slush collected in her stomach, rising from the churning acid like an island. She could feel her ebony skin scream as it surged forward. The groggy glutton couldn’t remember getting into her car and darting through local drive-thrus, or settling in a nearby lot to gorge on her post workout meal.

A spear pierced her below the navel, disrupting her feeding frenzy. She worked her knuckles deep into her softening sides. Her seatbelt was threatening to split her across the middle. Her hungry gut ballooned around the tightening fabric, seemingly attempting to chew through the restrictive material. The effort resulted in an immense amount of pressure and pain.

Jasalynn chewed robotically, witling down the stockpile of crud tucked inside her cheeks. She released the shackle of seatbelt and her stomach plopped down, quickly covering her crotch and warming her lap. The resulting quake upset the contents of her stomach.

Jasaylnn met her reflection’s gaze in her rearview mirror. Again, her own gluttony surprised her. The whites of her eyes grew, dwarfing her pupils as she processed each crumb and stain.

“Oh my god!” she panted, swallowing what her tongue wrestled from between her teeth.

“This can’t b-” she paused, feeling a knot in her throat. Her hands found their way to her stomach, instinctually pressing down the gurgling flesh. She inhaled sharply, sweat peppered her brow and her pouting lips parted. Her stomach growled, warning her of what was to come.

“BRAAAAAAHP!” an airy belch echoed through her vehicle, filling space with the scent of her feast and shaking the layer of crumbs from chest.

Belches and burps of variable intensity leaped from her lips. Her eyes couldn’t abandon her reflection. Watching as her lips parted and fluttered to allow each expulsion of gas disgusted her, but the ease in pressure resulting in each thunderous bellow was impossible to ignore.

Her phone’s vibration hummed from her passenger seat. Jasaylnn winced as she reached for the glowing device. Her stomach felt as though it would burst as it was forced to compact against her armrest. Her hand closed around her cellphone and she pulled back seemingly seconds before her skin split.

[2 Unread Messages]
Message 1, Tynice:
“Jazz where are you? You said you’d be right back! Hellooooooo!”

Message 2, Unknown Sender:
“431 Melborne Ave. Come hungry.”
>>164
She had no memory of the ride to the mysterious address. She was drawn to the house like a rat to the piper. Moments of lucidity were granted to her by each pebble or divot in the road. Each bit of rubble in the road bounced her taut base drum of belly. The sensation waved away the haze from her brain briefly before the lingering odor of grease dragged her back into a trance.

Finally, a chill awoke her from her stupor, in time to find her finger hammering down on the doorbell. She was unaware how long her brain lulled in limbo. The passing of minutes and hours were impossible to gauge by the cloudy night sky.

The door snapped open quickly, swinging out only inch before the iron chain lock snapped straight. From void a gloved hand seized her wrist like a serpent. The latex fingers felt unusually warm on her skin.

A second hand shot from the darkness, and the friction of two fingers snapping kindled the fire in her mind. Jasalynn’s knees grew weak and her vision blurred. She struggled to hone her failing sight as the figure stepped forward. She could see long dark arms and legs slink out from the darkness. The long dark shapes wrapped themselves around her as she folded to the ground. She knew she should hurt, but she felt nothing.

The cold of the night air was evaporated by the familiar fire behind her eyes.

Through fluttering lids, she watched her cold breath settle around the boots of her captor, as the darkness swallowed the last of her sight.

[Moments later, inside]

The stiffening ache in Jasalynn’s jaw was unrelenting, still her teeth gnashed and chewed. She craned her neck, massaging her throbbing mandible on her shoulder while her hands continued packing her maw full of her captor’s banquet. Her traitorous hands ignored her silent pleas and began forcing more and more morsels down passed her assembly line of molars.

This food was heavier than what she had dinned on previously, and didn’t translate well into finger food. Platters of pulled chicken, mounds of ground beef, and soggy gravy soaked biscuits dribbled down her quivering chin and settled on her rapidly rising and falling chest.

Jasalynn’s torso convulsed as breathing had become her body’s secondary focus. Her nostrils, now cavernous and wide frantically tore air from the room and with similar intensity. Between bites she desperately released the suffocating carbon out in attempt to clear the dusting of crumbs settling messily on her upper lip.

The arching of her spine and erratic nature of her breathing only served to strengthen the rhythm of her hypnosis. With every hurried breath and labored chew, her gut crawled forward down her lap. This body mass migration remained unknown to her only until her greedy gut was met with unwavering resistance.

An icepick of pain stabbed through her cavernous navel and spread like fractured glass below her skin. Both hands elastically snapped to her throbbing ebony gut. Her messy fingertips, expected the warmth of straining skin were instead greeted by a taught silk layer. Grease and gravy soaked into the smooth fabric. The cooling liquid provided momentary relief to gurgling paunch.

As the pain rose to a crescendo, her eyes went wide and breathing ceased its manic rhythm, pausing nearly entirely. Her lower jaw fell limp, suddenly free of its need to grind and swallow.

The bubbling rumble of her expansive stomach was audible. Her nails searched for give in the constricting garment. She prayed for snaps, buttons or latches, but release was carefully hidden beneath a gratuitous array or bows and ribbon.

She leaned back, feeling the corset’s tension reach its limit as her swirling cauldron of a gut surged larger still. The swelling sensation was maddening.

Airily, a moan slow and delicate at first, the pressure fought against its restraints, her voice cracked and hips bucked desperately.

Her former stomach hugging adversary seemed to fight for her now. The ridged wire sewn inside creaked, showing its determination to keep her skin from splitting at the seams.

A guttural croak burst from her throat as her hazel eyes pulled upwards, retreating back into her skull. Her feet slammed on the cool cement floor and her knees locked tight, forcing her bulbous form skyward.

She felt her large lips tighten and purse into a pale tin line. Slowly, her spine popped and cracked as her stomach rose further still. Behind her corset, her skin was dotted with goose bumps and shivered.

Like an uncorked champagne bottle, a burst of gas surged from her middle, pushing hard past her lip. The aftershock shredded her silk binding like spider’s web, leaving her gut littered with bits of frill and loose threads.

Her belch echoed in the small room for seemingly ages, and the noticeable deflation of her time bomb of a belly was blissful.
She felt the warm loosening skin spread and settle comfortably in her lap.

Her hands revisited changing landscape of her middle. She quickly flicked off the tattered fabric of her fashionable frenemy. She took her freed flesh in her arms. The act proved more difficult than before. There seemed to be so much more of her. She hesitated to imagine just how much her scale would read when she got home. If she got home.
Her mind began to race as details of her capture flooded back, wriggling through her brain like worms through an apple. Cold fear chased away her momentary pleasure when a voice rang out from the dark.

“That was… definitely something,” the voice nearly sang, “My money was on the corset. Figured if it could handle those thugs at UPS, it could handle a little comfort food.” The voice was tinny and artificial.

“You’ve probably got a whole heap of questions, and a T-Rex of a tummy-ache.” The voice got louder, and colder as the figure closed the gap between them both. “Can you hear me, or would you prefer I text you again?”

To be continued sometime sooner rather than later.
I remember loving this on the old chan - can't wait for you to continue it!
Shameless bro-bump. Your work is very subtle and hard-hitting compared to most "fat of she" stories.

Reversal of Fortune Stories Anonymous 01/27/2017 (Fri) 03:52:24 No. 408 [Reply]
This thread is for stories about reversal of fortunes. It could be a feeder who finds herself as a feedee, or a girl who was on top of the world forcibly fattened against her will.

What Sister Doesn't Know part 2
http://brothermayo.deviantart.com/art/What-Sister-Doesn-t-know-Pt-2-361233169
While this does need some context, the basic plot is that a woman whose job was to fatten up girls has been fired, and now her sister is given her former job. Her goal? Fatten her sister without her knowing.

All That She Knows
http://fantasyfeeder.com/stories/view?id=15909
One of my favorite stories of all time, the basic plot is a sister forcibly fattens her step sister who basically made her childhood hell. If nothing else, the final three chapters are amazing.
>>408
any more like this?
>>624

Holy cow. That was good. I have such a hard time finding this stuff. How could I miss something this old?
>>624

Holy shit that was good. Have you found anything else like this by any chance?

Online TTRPG Anonymous 02/28/2017 (Tue) 23:55:34 No. 633 [Reply]
Hi! Anyone want to get together for an anonymous, text-based ERPG over roll20? System is Fate Accelerated. We're meeting every Sunday night American time. There are some common sense requirements about writing ability and people skills, but I like to think I'm pretty open to people who like naughty roleplaying :D

If you're interested, please respond here. If you want a quicker response, you can PM me on reddit at Neptune9825.

>The modern world is ruled by science and reason. Utterly devoid of magic, it operates according to a set of depressingly mechanical, entirely empirical rules. But every couple hundred of years, someone throws a wrench into things.


>It turns out the modern world is not the only world out there. Alternate versions of a shared reality coexist with each other. They share the same space, the same time, and (in many cases) even the same furniture. But that's where the similarities stop. They are fundamentally different from our world in strange and mythical ways. Humanity has called these places different things at different times: alternate dimensions, heaven, hell, the upside-down. But none of them quite got it right.


>Christianity got close, but Gary Gygax got closer. Our world borders on a series of mythical planes, each inhabited by a myriad of mythical beings. For the most part, the planes don't interact. But once every so often, two planes happen to align. And when that happens, all the safe, predictable rules that govern our world go out the window. The last time it happened, the entire world went to war with itself. The time before that, the black death annihilated two-thirds of Europe.


>This time, who knows? But in two weeks' time, the Plane of Gluttony will come into full alignment with our world. Conspiracy theorists and occultist bloggers have been pointing to the signs for decades: unsustainable levels of hunting and fishing, destructive industrial agriculture, spiking obesity rates and slumping productivity. We're feeding the world and the world is hungrier than ever.


>There are more than signs now. Those sensitive to magic have begun to see through the veil. Soon, they will be able to interact with and travel beyond it. Monsters that have been left to their own devices for centuries are about to be unleashed. The world is about to get a lot stranger.


>And it's up to a bunch of high school girls to stop it.
Boi, it's Tuesday. You're getting me excited for nothing?

Seriously, though, that sounds super neat. I'd absolutely be up for it.
Do you have a roll20 account? I can invite you and you can check it out.
>>635

Yeah, it's Dicker Schreiber. I just made it, though, so I have no idea how anything works.
I might be interested. I've played on Roll20 before but never played Fate.
Can you say a bit more about how erotic/fetishised you expect this game to be?
Probably a lot less than you'd expect a 1-1 ERP to be, but a lot more than you'd be comfortable sharing with anyone outside the community.

BTW, anyone who joined the campaign needs to check out the campaign's forum and do what needs done before they can actually play.

marvel wg au bob 12/11/2016 (Sun) 17:01:29 No. 2 [Reply]
i found this and thought i should share it with you guys
http://marvelau.deviantart.com/

someone has written a weight AU of MCU

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