CW: intentional weight gain, feedee subjects, humiliation.
This bubble tea place was just the place you needed after a long day of studying. You've been coming here every other day after class with a spool of yarn and a hook, determined to make that cute sweater and skirt two piece you saw on Tumblr! The pattern you find wasn't exactly made for a thicker girl like you, but a few adjustments made it so it should fit. The loose stitches give the garment so leeway that should make up for any of your miss calculations. A style like this was a bold move for you, since you spend most of your days in sweat pants and hoodies. This was a challenge though, one that you placed upon yourself, and one that you wanted to see through to the end.
You order your xl Boba tea with extra sweetener added, with one or two of the delectable pastries they have on display. Maybe you'd go back for seconds or thirds. You love the sickening sweet flavor of the tea matched with the flaky treats. A few times you've caught yourself lost in the favors and realized you did more snacking than stitching. Your food and drink that was supposed to last the hour have seemed to dissappear.
Well, you worked hard today. I think you deserve another treat. You walk up to the counter and order another tea and one....no, t! As the barista tallies up your order, she pauses contemplatively. "Hey, are you doing okay?" She asks you.
This catches you completely off guard. Why would ask you that? Did something seem wrong?
"I'm sorry!" She begins to stammer. "Forget I said anything! It's none of my business! I'll get your order right out!" She's so flustered she forgets to charge you for your snacks. As she hurriedly prepares your order, you can't help but notice how strawberry red her face is.
When she returns with your order, it's your turn for questions.
"Are you okay, girl? You're kind of freaking me out." You tell her. She just keeps her eyes down, looking ashamed.
"Well...it's none of my business...but I notice ever since you started coming here your orders have been getting bigger and bigger. And I know sometimes people eat when they're stressed or depressed so I wanted to make sure you were doing okay since..." her voice trails off, but you catch her eyes glancing at your belly which you just noticed is poking out of the bottom of your t-shirt. The waistband of your once baggy sweats digs into your hips, struggling to support this new weight.
A long moment passes. Too long of a moment. You have too many feelings to process; Shock, embarrassment, shame, but it is also empowering and gives you a guilty pleasure. You really have been out of control, but in a weird way you seem to like it.
Instead of covering yourself up, you make your shirt ride up your swollen tummy, exposing more of your new softness.
"I'm great actually," you finally manage to say. "In fact, I think I'll have two croissants instead." You say more confidently than you felt. The barista hurries to get the rest of your treats and once again forgets to charge you.
"I think its time to call it a day," you think to yourself and pack up your things. As you sit down in your car you notice how you belly rests on your lap. "It didn't used to do that, right?"
The whole car ride back to your apartment, all you can think about is how every bump make body jiggly and bounce. Your snacks are gone before you even get home.
As soon as you get to your room, you pull out your fat girl pants and some of the crop tops you used to wear. "I can't have gotten that much bigger" you try to convince yourself. "It was just a few snacks!"
Halfway up your legs, it becomes clear putting these jeans on will not be an easy task. Your feel the cellulite on your thighs being squeezed and pushed until you get the waistband halfway up your ass. That's when everything stops. You thought you might have trouble buttoning them before, but it looks like you won't get the chance. With one last effort, you hoist your jeans over you thickening ass and hear a loud URRRP as the outer seam running down you thigh has ruptured, allowing the puffy flesh underneath to ooze out.
The sound sends shivers down your spine. "Okay, what about my shirts then," you say in shock. The closest t-shirt is your favorite old band shirt that you saw with your friend. It always fit you just right. As you pull it over your head, you can see that it barely covers your belly button. The jiggly mass underneath, full of pastries and sweet syrupy drinks jiggles and bounces with every step. You look at the bloated girl standing in the mirror and think first, "how did I let this happen?"
Then something new dawns on you. You caress the new bulge in your midsection and lift your shirt to reveal it in all its glory. Your hands begin grabbing flesh and messaging your taut gut. You shake your fat ass a little and feel the ripples reverberate through your thighs.
You got fatter, but you think this girl in the mirror is hot.
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