It was impossible to ignore the bag of blue candies sitting in front of her.
She had always made a habit of keeping a well-stocked candy bowl — once a courtesy for house guests that developed over time into one of the reasons for her softening figure. The bowl’s selection had begun to stagnate with the less desirable options from clearance bags of Halloween treats. So she was surprised to find an unopened bag of fruit candies placed atop the bowl’s last paltry offerings.
It was a small bag; the kind that made her wonder if it might be more than just candy, but the label made no mention of any such additives. So she saw no harm in snacking on a few while she lounged in the bedroom. She slipped seamlessly between the covers of her unmade bed, her baggy tee and sweatpants hanging loosely, though perhaps not quite as loose as she would’ve hoped.
She was no stranger to fancier candies, but it was more than a matter of quality. That sweet, slightly tart flavor broke through her drowsiness. The candies tasted realer than real. More perfect than any blueberry she had eaten in her life.
With how enamored she was with this taste, it’s no wonder she missed those early warning signs. To her credit, it would be unfair to expect anyone to notice a splotch of blue on their nose while entirely alone. But with how distracted she was aimlessly scrolling through her phone, she failed to notice any changes until that telltale color nearly enveloped her hands.
She scrambled for the bag of candies, fearing they had left a stain to match their taste. But to her surprise, she couldn’t find a spot of blue anywhere but on her skin. She jumped to her feet, too quickly; she hit the ground with a soft thud. This wouldn’t be the first time she was caught off guard by an unexpected shift in weight, but it never felt quite this drastic. She felt swollen, as if she’d drank a gallon of water in a matter of minutes. Her center of balance was off, making the simple act of standing a chore.
The changes were apparent before she even finished waddling toward the full-length mirror. Most of her body turned a cerulean hue, and her once loose loungewear looked rather snug. A bit of her tummy had begun to peak out from under her shirt; she even looked wider than she had been moments ago.
But the most concerning change so far couldn’t be seen in the mirror. For all the drastic shifts in appearance, she couldn’t take her mind off the pressure. It had started in her core, but she could feel it moving, spreading within her. A fullness like she had never known, not even with the most abundant meal. Complete satisfaction, toeing the line but never crossing over into discomfort. For all the red flags she should be focused on, she couldn’t think of anything beyond just how wonderful that pressure felt.
Falling to her knees, she cradled her swelling form. The mere touch of her hand to her belly was electric; the feeling of any outside stimuli affecting that inner pressure sent sparks. She was ecstatic. Lost in the feeling. And lucky for her, the changes were far from over.
This sensitivity only increased with the swelling. Were it not for the color, the casual observer might confuse her transformation for weight gain. But all it would take was a touch to dispel this notion. Rather than soft, plush fat, her body was taut, firm. But never full. Her body seemed to adapt, growing outward rather than letting her reach capacity. Her chubby form grew beyond exaggeration, rounding out further and further. Limbs recessed as her body continued to grow. With each surge and spasm came pleasure. More and more, overwhelming all senses until it was all she could think about. She was massive. Were it not for her exaggerated breasts or her vestigial limbs, it would be understandable to mistake her for an overripe fruit. All she could see was blue, and she had no way of knowing if her vision was impaired or if there was too much of her own body to see past.
She felt it the moment her growth made walking impossible. Her spherical form reached the point where she could not keep both feet on the ground. What should have been a moment for concern instead was one of bliss as she felt all that pressure – that pleasure – weighing down onto her sex. Juice dripped from her, staining the remains of her garments. Desperate for more, she rocked back and forth, from one foot to another. Mewling, breathy, she needed this. Just the sensation of edging was out of this world, but she needed release. She could feel the juices dripping from all over, her body approaching its limit and her climax.
Yet even in this state, her lust was palpable. Closer, closer. She could never forgive herself if she rolled off balance. She found that perfect angle, bouncing from one foot and pressing against the wall to keep herself in place. This was the limit, the very edge of that pressure. Little leaks of her sweet juices grew into a stream. Her body tried to keep itself in stasis, on the very edge. But what she needed was release. All at once, that pressure reached its peak, and she gave herself over to it. Her whole body lit up. It wasn’t a tidal wave, but a dozen little storms swirling through her. Bursts of pleasure, each intensifying and multiplying in frequency. Her desperate moans grew in volume before she was forced to stop, unable to process anything but her own climax.
Hours later, she came to. Smaller, though not quite her original size, she found herself at the center of what must have been a torrent of juice. Lying back, she let out a content sigh, wondering how many candies she had left.
I need to feel you growing out from under me. Your sagging tits and rounded paunch and pillowy thighs — I need more of all of them. I want to spoil you, give you everything you want. All I ask is you let me stay by your side and feel the effects of my adoration. After all, where else can I feel so comfortable than pressed into your ever softening form?
Let me explore every part of you. We can take it slowly, and I can find the words for how each and every inch of you is perfection. Your plump cheeks and ample behind. Every little fold and mark, another sign of affection.
