A Little Extra Room
Justin clearly wants Trixie fatter, and her willpower is far too weak to resist. He takes advantage of it, forcing her to eat more and more while she grows larger and larger.
“Just two more bites,” Justin murmured, excitement leaching into the borders of his words. “You can do it baby, you're doing so good. Just open up your mouth again…good girl.”
Trixie groaned as she slowly chewed, head thrown back and eyes wrenched tightly shut as both hands rubbed her taut, overfilled gut. She forced a swallow then groaned louder, her bulging stomach rising and falling dramatically as she breathed heavily. Her moans had reached a fever pitch and she whimpered and whined, too full to even speak. “One more,” said Justin in a near whisper, eyes locked onto the groaning, bloated woman. She opened her mouth to protest but burped loudly instead. Giving her gut a couple of weak pats she burped again, only to have Justin gently grab a side roll and give it a few wobbling bounces, forcing a cacophony of burps and moans out of her food smeared lips.
“Look at you baby, god. Just one more bite,” he repeated breathlessly. “No.” Trixie whined, still making circles on her overfed gut. “No, I can't. I can't, I'm too full.”
“It’s ok baby,” promised Justin, reassuringly, picking up the fork with the remaining bite of cake. Crumbs were the only remnant of the grocery store sheet cake, and one glance at the scene would make it obvious where it had gone. “No,” protested Trixie weakly as he brought the fork up to her mouth. He grabbed her by the side roll again, shaking and jiggling her aggressively as she groaned again, feeling herself wobble. Justin gave her belly a hard slap and she let out a raucous burp, nearly embarrassed by how loud it was. “Good girl,” he praised gently, rubbing the spot he’d just slapped. “Now you have more room.” He brought the fork to her lips again and she opened her mouth obligingly, moaning slightly as she chewed the last of the sugary sweet confection.
“Good girl,” said Justin, making no effort to conceal how his words dripped with lust. “That’s my big girl. You’re getting so huge, aren’t you?” Trixie groaned in response, her chubby hands planted firmly on her gut as she whined. “Aren’t you,” Justin repeated, smacking her gut again at its right, rounded top. She burped again then resumed her groaning, too full to even sit up.
“God, look at you. You look like a beached whale, your blubber is spilling out everywhere.” He gave her fatty belly a pinch and she burped again, unexpectedly this time. “You sound like such a pig,” he teased, both hands finding their way to her overstretched gut. “You look like one too. God you’re so fat.” He gets closer, applying more pressure as he wobbles her gut harder and harder. She moans in protest, burping louder and louder as Justin shook her gut more and more roughly.
“Look at all this,” he marveled. “Look at how much I can grab. You’ve really let yourself go haven’t you? You’ve lost control.” Trixie moans in response but Justin shakes his head, pushing her further backwards into her couch as he squeezes her plush fat.
“I said,” he began, kneading her fat as she cried out from the pressure, “you’ve lost control. Haven’t you?” He gives her gut another firm slap. “Haven’t you?” Justin laughs as Trixie nods through her burp. “Come on, use your words piggy,” he instructs. “Have you lost control?” “Yes,” breathed Trixie desperately, both hands again rubbing her globular gut.
“Yea,” Justin affirmed in a low voice husky with desire. “Little out of control piggy. Stuffed so fat that you can’t even move. Seriously Trixie, look at all this.” He’d begun to wobble her gut slowly again and her entire fattened body shook from the movement, her plump tits bouncing up and down as they nearly escaped the tiny crop top she wore. Her thick arms and plush chubby thighs also jiggled along, the newly swelled fat all over her body shaking as one.
“You fucking whale,” Justin mummered, barely audibly as he gazed down at her hungrily. “You big fat pig, you bloated fucking pig.” Trixie’s eyes were closed now and she’d resumed her groaning, too full to do much else. “Stay right there, just like that.” He reached for his belt buckle with one hand, the other still glued to Trixie’s swollen gut. “Just like that. I’m gonna take care of you baby.”
The next day, Trixie awoke to the smell of bacon. She sighed. She wasn’t sure exactly how long Justin had been up, but smelling bacon was never a good sign when it came to him, especially after a night like last night. She stretched, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, then yawned. No matter how much sleep she got after one of Justin’s ‘dinner parties’, she was always still exhausted the next day, swollen and tender from how much food she’d packed in (among other things). Justin was always energetic afterwards, in a great mood, but she would be lethargic for the next week.
She surprised herself by letting out a burp, then she flushed. Her hand dropped to her stomach and she started, taken aback by how far her hand sunk into her own plushness. Her gut bulged out further than it ever had when she was stuffed, but instead of firm and taut her rounded belly bounced and wobbled at just a touch. Oh god, she thought, sinking her fingers into her fat as she investigated her newly plumped body. How much damage did he do last night, she wondered absentmindedly as she played with her wobbling rolls. How many calories was that cake?
She swung her feet over the side of the bed and stood up with effort, cringing as she noted how long it took her fleshy body to stop jiggling at the movement. She was completely naked, the previous evening's clothes tossed somewhere around the living room, and each step she took emphasized her weight. The swell of her belly shook and bounced as she plodded to the bathroom, and her ass wobbled cumbersomely behind her, nearly uncontrollable. She looked at herself in the mirror, pausing a beat before her hands fell to her gut for a second time. Things were really getting out of hand. She stared back at the fattened version of herself in the mirror, gripping her fat in disbelief.
Her face had swollen to a moon shape and her chubby cheeks had exploded with fat, squeezing her eyes into a smaller shape that peered out from a face framed by double chins. Her neck had nearly disappeared in a ring of fat and wobbled when she shook her head or chewed. She was unrecognizable, a fact that had been confirmed when she ran into an old friend from college who’d struggled to believe that the bloated tub in front of her was the once thin Trixie. Her body had fared no better, and she sported thick swollen arms hanging with fat, pudgy, inflated tits that sagged and bulged out of her bras, and most prominently, a porky, tubby beer gut that refused to succumb to gravity. The more she put on the more it bulged forward, and she was beginning to have a hard time buckling her seatbelt when Justin drove her to get more fast food.
He’d grown rock hard the first time he saw her struggle with that, speeding home to shove burgers down her throat until she was ready to pop while he moaned about how sexy she was. She couldn’t contain her gut in any of her clothes anymore, instead allowing it to hang out of the bottom in a way that drove Justin wild, enticing him to slap the exposed flesh and make it jiggle.
She sighs again, lifting her gut with two hands before releasing it with a plop. She felt it bounce, her entire middle shaking rhythmically. She was getting huge. Everything Justin was saying was right. Just the other day she’d burst out of her shorts while he fed her, the only time he’d ever ended a feeding prematurely to fuck her right then and there. She’d still been required to finish her food afterwards though, and Justin had been so gentle as he shoved in bite after bite, feeding her well into the morning. Her capacity was increasing, and even though she wanted to try and conceal it from him for her own sake, Justin knew. He’d been pushing her to her limits more and more later, and it was beginning to show. She was exploding. Every time Justin fed her she woke up feeling, and looking, much larger. It had to be her imagination, she couldn’t put on that much weight in one night, but the bloat never disappeared, swelling more and more with each greasy session.
She turned around, inspecting her widened, wobbling ass. This was the only reason she’d agreed to try this in the first place, she’d always wanted to be thick, and her wish had been more than granted. Her enormous, shelf ass wobbled dramatically whenever she walked, her thick thighs rubbing as she forced them past one another. Justin was obsessed, constantly smacking it sharply just to watch it ripple. Trixie took a step back. She could barely take herself in the mirror anymore, she was getting too wide. She pinched her belly, then sighed once more. Breakfast time.
She waddled to her closet to grab a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, wondering what Justin had prepared today as she turned sideways to slide her way into the narrow closet door. It had always been a tight squeeze, even when she was a size 4, but now she could barely work her way inside. She sucked in, pushing in her belly with her hands for extra room, then forced her way through the doors narrow frame sideways. The first time Justin had seen that little maneuver he’d taken her right there in the closet, not even bothering to grab a few boxes of Oreos to stuff her with first.
She grabbed a pair of XXL shorts that had grown one ‘X’ too small and stepped into them, her bulging round gut acting as an obstacle as always. She got the pants over her thighs after some resistance, then sucked in with all her might and yanked the waistband over her lower belly. The fabric creaked but stayed, and Trixie gently let out her belly in relief, trying not to dwell on how large its natural shape expanded as it swelled forward. Pants on, she turned to the problem of a shirt. Her belly refused to hang, instead protruding further and further outwards, which meant no shirt could be yanked down to cover its swell. She settled for T-shirt’s that wore more like crop tops nowadays, and let her plump, tubby gut round out unencumbered. She pulls down the shirt anyways, watching as it sprang back up immediately, then waddled out of the closet. Despite herself, she was hungry.
When she reached the kitchen Justin greeted her cheerily without turning, still focused on the mountain of pancakes he’d been constructing while she slept. “How’d you sleep?” he asked as she shuffled towards the kitchen chair. “Fine,” she replies lightly, dropping into the armless chair heavily as it creaked to make its protests known.
“You were so fucking sexy last night,” Justin reminisced wistfully. “So fucking sexy, he begins, turning to her. I…” he pauses as he catches sight of her, his breath hitching in his throat.
“What’s wrong?” Trixie asks with sincerity, alarmed by the expression in his face.
“You…look huge,” marveled Justin in awe.
“Justin…” Trixie started, attempting to assuage him, but Justin couldn’t be deterred. “God, you look like you put on 20 pounds just last night, I’ve never seen you look so…fat.” He dropped the spatula and took a few steps towards her, the pancake browning on the stove forgotten.
“Stand up.” He instructed, and Trixie did as she was told, knowing it would be easier than letting him convince her. He poked her belly gently, pressing his finger deep into the swells of fat on her side rolls, then grabbed the lowest one firmly and gave her belly a series of hard wobbles. “What have you done to yourself?” he whispered, clearly growing more and more excited as he fondled her gut. “You're bursting out of those clothes,” he gloated with a grin, smacking the overtaxed shorts that her belly and ass were stretching paper thin. “I always am,” Trixie replied with an eye roll.
“Not like this,” murmured Justin in a near whisper. “You’re getting so fat.”
He grabbed her belly with both hands and pulled her near, Trixie feeling against her upper stomach just how excited he was by the way her shirt was fitting. “You’re getting so fucking fat,” he repeated, shaking her more aggressively now. “You’re so fucking fat. God, just look at yourself.” He smacks her gut, admiring the syncopation of its jiggles. “Look at all this. Look at yourself.”
By the time he’d started talking like this, it was already too late. He was going to feed her again, another little dinner party, except this one was at 10 in the morning. Justin usually only started his lustful, excessive sessions at night, but he had been overfeeding her during the day more and more often recently.
“Sit down,” he says with a point, and Trixie obliges soundlessly, knowing resistance was futile. Justin brings over a platter laden with bacon, two plates stacked high with pancakes, a plate of hash browns, a plate of sausage, and a gallon of orange juice.
“Justin,” she warned, her hands already resting on her stomach as if feeling its upcoming pangs of fullness. “Justin, I’m really not hungry.”
“Even better,” he replies casually, pouring half a bottle of syrup on the first stack of fluffy, golden brown discs. “Eat up.”
He hands her a fork and Trixie surveys the scene miserably, feeling her empty gut press into the table despite how far back she’s scooted her chair.
“You know you want it, fatty,” came Justin's voice floating into her ear. “You need it, don’t you?” He asked coyly, watching the expression on her face shift near imperceptibly as he pushed the plate closer to her. “Go ahead big girl. I know you can barely stop yourself.”
The mouth watering aroma became too much and Trixie relented, first shoving two pieces of bacon into her mouth greedily before also cramming in a massive bite of pancakes, the syrup dripping from her lips.
“Fuck Trixie,” Justin breathed. She hunkered down and began to eat with abandon, shirking her fork in favor of fingers quickly becoming sticky with syrup. She crammed bacon into her mouth by the threes, folding her pancakes so she could get the whole circle in her mouth at once. She paused, burped loudly, then dove back in, temporarily foregoing her bacon to scarf down the entire plates of hash browns and sausages in just a few moments.
“Keep going baby,” Justin cooed, beginning to trace gentle circles across her rapidly bloating gut. “Don’t stop.”
Trixie couldn’t stop if she’d wanted to, and despite her earlier complaints in the mirror she ate like a woman possessed, greasy and sticky hands easing burps out of her overstuffed gut while her breathing got heavier and heavier. She completed the first stack of pancakes and was now working on the second, the reminder of the syrup bottle upended over them. Her face was becoming a mess and her fatty chins were slick with syrup and bacon grease. She grabbed two more syrupy pancakes, folded them, and attempted to shove both in her mouth, her cheeks bulging and rippling as she tried to chew while forcing even more into her greedy face.
Another few handfuls of bacon and the once towering platter was beginning to run low, the remainder of the greasy meat sticky with the syrup her hands were coated in. She doubled down, alternating between massive bites of pancake and savory swallows of bacon, her gut swelling impossibly round and forcing her chair even further back from the table. Justin was watching in awe, face contorting into an lust drunk expression that bordered on the painful as his jeans grew tighter and tighter like Trixie’s gut. His hands were back on her body now, and she felt her belly being jiggled, wobbled, and shaken as she packed in bite after bite, feeling the swell and breathing deeper as her fat gut stretched tighter and tighter.
Just as she reached for the last pancake, slowing down a bit as the calories began to catch up to her, Justin muttered “Fuck,” and jumped out of his seat, heading towards the oven. She groaned then burped at the effort of turning her head, barely able to see what the urgency was.
Justin had taken the final, scorched pancake off of the stove and was now opening the oven to a decadent, sickeningly sweet smell to which Trixie was well accustomed. His famous cinnamon rolls, famous not only for their incredible taste, but also for the unbelievable amount Trixie can put away. She whimpers at the smell of the rolls then shoves the last pancake into her mouth anyway, syrup dripping down her chin. Justin sets them to cool then crosses the kitchen back to her, hands already extended to grip her impossibly fattened gut.
“You’re such a good girl,” he encouraged, beginning to rub slow circles on her distended gut. “You were hungry, weren’t you?” Trixie ignores him, continuing to moan, and he slaps her gut forcefully for the infraction. Trixies groaned then let loose an enormous burp, face flushing.
“I asked you if you were hungry Trixie,”said Justin once more, a wild look dancing behind his eyes. “Yes,” Trixie panted in between heavy breaths, attempting to lean back in the too small chair to relieve some pressure from her growing gut.
“You’re still hungry, aren’t you?” Justin informed her, no hint of a question behind his intonation.
“Justin no, no,” Trixie begged, squirming as she attempted to shift herself forward again. “No, I can't.”
Justin rubbed her gut lovingly, playfully kneading its rounded top. “Yes you can. You want to.”
“No!” she whined in a near yell.
Justin smacked her gut for her outburst, forcing a series of deep burps out of her mouth. She groaned as he rubbed her expansive belly, muttering comforting words before smacking her gut again, leaving her wobbling and burping while he went to grab the icing glazed rolls.
“Now,” He says on his return, setting the pan down on the table. “Are you hungry?”
Trixie was the picture of gluttony, absolutely beached in the chair by her massive, spherical gut that dwarfed the rest of her tubby body. She leaned her head forward with effort, rubbing her stretched gut fruitlessly.
“Trixie,” says Justin, taking a firmer grip on the bottom of her porky belly. “I asked you a question. Are you hungry?”
Trixie nodded listlessly and Justin began to shove the still warm rolls into her mouth with abandon, smearing cinnamon sugar and icing all over her face. Her plump lips opened again and again for more, moaning nonstop now as her belly slipped out of shorts and bulged free, her stretch mark covered love handles oozing over the back waistband. Her T-shirt was like a bra, and she noted with horror that even the sleeves were starting to cut into her chubby arms.
Her belly surged further and further forward, and Justin couldn’t keep his left hand off her while his right hand forced the rolls into her face faster and faster. “You’re so fucking fat,” he was saying, kneading the still pliable rolls as he filled her.”You're getting so fat.” The pan was nearing its end now, and Justin fed her even faster, cramming her cheeks until they were about to pop. She swallowed the massive bites with effort, her mind completely empty as Justin forced her further and further over her limit.
Trixie swallowed the last bite then burped loudly, gripping her gut with both hands.
“Look at you,” Justin choked out after a moment, his voice betraying his desire. “You’re such a fucking pig. Look at what you’ve done to yourself.”
Trixie was so full she’d begun to hiccup, and the alternating hiccups and burps made her jiggle slightly as she lay back in the chair, trying to catch her breath. “I *hic* didn't,” she responded laboriously. “You did this to me.”
Justin didn’t say a word, instead standing silently and reaching both hands toward her.
“Justin, I can’t get up right now, I can't,” she whined, drawing out the word. “Yes you can,” said Justin calmly. “I’m gonna take you to the bedroom, come back and get the whipped cream, and then you’re gonna show me exactly how you got to be such a fat, greedy piggy.”
She groaned again and Justin smacked her gut, eliciting her loudest, deepest burp of the day.
“There,” he said, watching her continue to wobble. “Now you have a little extra room.”
