Tsundebu @tsundebu - Tumblr Blog

The full version of my kinky, sapphic short story about an otherworldly woman and a self-fulFILLing faustian bargain.

Kinks: mostly tight clothes, weight gain.

——————

I think it was raining that night too. When she found me. I was in one of my moods where I hoped to be able to eat until my stomach would reach the floor. I’d just finished a big dinner out at one of my favorite restaurants. A classic American diner. You know the kind. Where you don’t have to ask for boysenberry syrup and the waitress never lets your soda glass run dry. I had filled myself with an evening’s decadence until my thighs were nearly quivering. I had just gotten out of my car to head into a nearby convenience store for a few more snacks to finish with when a woman stepped out from behind my car and blocked the way.

She was a little taller than me, dressed in all black. Long, wavy black hair with two snake bite piercings along her bottom lip. But none of this was what first captured my gaze. No, it was that she was fat. Fat in ways I wanted to be. Bulging from her hips and chest as I had only dreamed. I was by no means a thin woman. Years of gluttonous nights like this had made me plump, but compared to the creature before me I was famine given flesh. Her dark beauty, so radiant the sun was but a matchstick in her presence. To look upon her was ecstasy and I felt, in that moment, if I could not be her, then I was ready to give up everything to be but a satellite in her orbit. And then I noticed a tail…

“I think I know what you want,” she said coyly. “I do.” Time almost stood still for a moment before she added, almost mockingly, “And I can give it to you. But before that, I have to hear you speak your heart’s desire.”

From her ample hips, to her tail, to those magnificent breasts that bobbed atop her bulging belly like a gentle tide, to what first looked like cowlicks now decidedly horns, back to her breasts, and those thick, soft arms. I wanted her to hold me in them so madly I felt sick. She had some kind of power over me and I didn’t know if it was her magic or my hunger that held me there but I couldn’t move. I was drunk on her, drunk off my feast. She kept talking but I could understand nothing. Hypnotized by the ebb and flow of her dimples as she smirked at my stupefaction. I was clearly not her first victim, but in that moment I only hoped to be her favorite.

“Well, can you do that?” She asked.

“D-do what?” I stammered, as if this was the first time I had ever spoken.

“Can you say it out loud, that which you so deeply desire, without a shred of shame in your heart?” I nodded. “Good. Per the standard practice of such rituals, I must now reiterate the rules of the contract before you can sign. They are as follows. Every morning you will wake up 10 pounds heavier than the day before. In return, each night you will give to me a taste of your hedonistic pleasure. Now,” she started, pulling her blouse up and lowering the waist of her pants to fully release her belly from her attire. As if to make the invitation that much more appealing, she lifted her belly out and forward a little, her shoulders straining slightly from the effort, so that when she released her waist it clapped warmly against her thighs. Around her belly button was a tattoo of the ouroboros. A snake eating its own tail. But unlike the thin line of a snake as it may usually appear, the snake seemed to be as fat as her with dimples and little fat rolls, if that even is such a thing as a snake could have. But there it was, on her massive stomach. And she was beckoning me towards it. “Down, thrall.” She snapped in a commanding tone as I had begun to approach. It was not a cruel tone, but one of control. And as I obeyed she gently stroked my cheek, sweeping my bangs out of my eyes as she cooed, “On your knees. As is custom, please.” She guided my hands to either side of her waist as I held her for the first time.

She was warm to the touch. Velvety and smooth as fresh fleece. And soft. I stared into the eyes of the ouroboros but for the blinding joy of being allowed to touch her saw nothing. Then she said, “now, say what you desire most, kiss her, and our pact will be complete.”

At that moment what I desired most was to bury my face in her belly, but somehow I had known what she meant. The words came out of me more effortlessly than a sigh. Leaning forward, I felt her delicately run her fingers through my hair as I kissed her belly. As if reading my mind, she then pulled my head into her tum and I nuzzled and kissed at it greedily.

As I reached back once more to wrap my fingers around the side of her belly I grabbed pillow. I looked up to find myself headfirst in a pile of blankets atop my own bed. It was morning. Stunned, I whipped around and collected my bearings. Time, 7:00. Day, Friday. Place, still my bedroom. I laid back in bed, reeling from what I then assumed to be one of the most intense wet dreams I’d ever had. My evening meal had been real, however, and like any morning after an intense stuffing, my stomach was simultaneously heavy as lead, yet ravenous.

Placing my hand on my stomach to attempt to soothe the beast within, it bounced unexpectedly. As if there had been more of me than there should have been. I scrambled up to examine myself. Everything seemed normal. I was a chubby girl, but no more so today than before. Yet there was a softening around the seams of my silhouette that felt new. Like a rounding of an edge.

“My fantasies are going right to my waist,” I mused. It was a cute softness and didn’t offend. When you’re already chubby, a little more or a little less is hardly noticeable. I had been thinner and heavier before, and minor fluctuations were too common to give notice to.

As the day gave way to night, a persistent tightness in the waistband of my once favorite sweatpants gnawed at my middle more than usual. I felt swollen. Like I was being forced to take up more space than I meant to. I looked down and even my breasts seemed full, popping a bit out of my cami. I had eaten dinner, though hardly a banquet to match the previous night’s, but perhaps I was bloated. I pulled my waistband down and, without thinking, pulled my top up to reveal my belly.

It seemed… round. Not fat per se. As I said, I was chubby. Maybe a little overweight, but not big. But, to the credit of the previous night’s debauchery it almost seemed bigger somehow. What started as an observation then quickly spiraled, as it so often does, into the hedonistic throes of insatiable fascination.

And like this, so too was the weekend spent. I seemed thicker in places, but at the time it was easy to dismiss as the usual rising and falling of my weight with the passions of my love for a larger form. To that I attributed all the signs that should have acted as a warning. The sirens called, but I was gleefully unaware of the peril they intoned. And then came Monday.

I awoke with a start to the blaring of my alarm. Stunned from the outburst as I was bleary-eyed, I lurched forward to sit up and didn’t quite make it. I had started, but my body rolled back against my will. “God, I’m tired,” I thought as I rolled back forward with more momentum and, sitting up, planted my feet on the floor. It was then I noticed an unfamiliar weight on top of my thighs. Still half-asleep I stared down, first in confusion, then in shock. Where there had once been a modest paunch of a belly now sat a large, round belly spread across my thighs. For a moment I thought I was someone else. How else can you explain so much where there should have been less?

I picked up the edges of my waist as if half-expecting to find a seam or zipper to reveal the trick, but it was all me. As my gaze turned to the rest of me, what had the previous few nights been dismissible as a slight softening of my edges or a few pounds of happy weight was now almost more than I had ever been. My thighs were spread out and risen like loaves and as I reached around to feel all of me I began to notice my arms wobbling ever so slightly as I moved. I was fatter. Quite a bit so, though I didn’t know by how much.

A second alarm returned me to my senses. It was 7:30 now and I needed to get to work. But I had no idea how I was going to squeeze into my work clothes. And now that I was running late, there was no time to try to buy new ones before work. I rushed to get ready and then grabbed my largest skirt and blouse.

They… fit? I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten away with it, but they fit just fine. Almost better than they had the last time I’d worn them. I looked myself over in the mirror with what little time I could spare before the last bus arrived. I looked good. Rounder, but cute. This always happened when I put on a little weight. My review was unnaturally soft, like vaseline on a lens. Time would always return my inner critic to the throne, but when my waist seemed a little bigger or my face a little rounder, for a brief moment, being kind to myself seemed easier. Unfortunately, gawking at my now slightly fatter ass had gone on too long and, despite a good sprint, I had missed the bus. I would now be driving to work today. But with that came the excuse to, since I wouldn’t be beholden to the bus schedule, maybe treat myself after work. And I did.

As on Monday morning and the Tuesday after that, Wednesday I awoke to find myself even bigger. I was no longer chubby. No arguments about midsize, half-size, whatever. I was fat. F. A. T. When your ass is spilling over the sides of your cheap office chair, micro-genres of thickness feel needlessly pedantic. Unlike my clothes which seemed to always be able to make their way onto me in the mornings, my office chair had stayed the same and the wear from my increased size was showing with every groan and creak from the protesting stool. Desperate to reinforce the structural integrity of the chair before it died underneath me, I got down on my knees with a wrench to tighten the bolts when I remembered her. The woman, no, demon from my dreams. As I thought of her, her visage flashed before my mind’s eye. That mocking smile glinting in the dim light. “Her,” I thought to myself. “She’s doing this. She was real?” I asked it but I somehow knew it to be true.

When I got off work I began to hurry home to try to call out to her. Somehow knowing, in my heart, that she was not a creature that respected time or space. I tried to hurry, but as I did I couldn’t help noticing and feeling my bottom bounce with each step. How as I picked my pace up the bottom of my belly would wobble, or how the deeper steps made my breast bounce. All confirmations of how much heavier I had become than the week before. And it was all gained so quickly that there had been no time to get used to such things. The bouncing, jiggling, and wobbling, it was everything I had dreamed it would be and more. It was lighter and yet bulkier than I had imagined and every jostle left me desperate to return home and explore myself anew. It was then that the thought occurred to me. I didn’t actually know how much I had gained. And I didn’t own a scale. I was the heaviest I had ever been. I didn’t need a scale to see that. But an impish desire to know the answer to that dirty little secret ate at me.

Arriving home I placed my things away and immediately began to call for her. I don’t remember what I said or how I said it, but as if slipping from the corner of my eye, she appeared before me.

“Do you have need of me?” She asked cooly.

“I need you to stop this.” I demanded. “It’s out of control. I can’t keep gaining like this.”

“And why not?” She replied, disinterested, but scanning me. It was like she was staring at every roll and bulge individually. It felt… attentive. In a caring way, though equally invasive. “You seem to be doing just fine.”

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve somehow gained 30 pounds in a week!”

“50.” She smirked. “You’ve gained 50 pounds. 10 pounds a day, remember?”

Shocked into a stunned silence, I fought to regain my voice, “a-a-and what will people think if their neighbor or coworker suddenly gains 100 pounds? And what am I supposed to do about that??”

The creature sighed and smiled, almost disappointedly, “they will think nothing of you. Just as they did yesterday, and as they will tomorrow and the day after that.” And then she slipped behind me as gracefully as a snowflake. “You have gotten pretty big.” She teased, grabbing two handfuls of my waist and gently letting it fall as my knees began to feel weak. “These aren’t too bad either,” and she wrapped her fingers as widely around my breasts as she could while pressing her body deeply into mine. It was all I could do to remain standing. She strolled back around to face me but not without grabbing a handful of my ass and giving it a firm squeeze and a pat, the force of which sent a ripple through my rolls that shook my soul. “Feel that? That’s why it won’t stop.”

Coming back to my senses for a moment I stupidly blurted out, “why’s that?”

“Because,” she rolled her eyes and swooped in to jiggle my belly. “So long as this excites you, it won’t stop.” Stepping back again, she continued, “you may be feeling some form of shame now, but that will only stop you from forming a pact. It won’t break the pact once it’s been formed.” Moving back in, but this time more delicately placing one hand on my side while sweeping my bangs out of my face with the other, she held me and cooed, “you’re mine now,” and kissed me on the cheek, and left.

“I’m a prisoner of my own libido,” I laughed. I had the keys to my own freedom. All I had to do was stop being turned on by my own weight. In a sense, all I had to do to stop laughing was to stop finding the joke funny. And to my eternal shame I could not. As the evening rolled around I rolled onto my back in the bed and felt that waistband digging into me once more. But this time, I also felt a tightness in the thighs of these sweatpants that hadn’t been there the first night. And a tightness in the armbands of my tee shirt as I began to bulge out of today and become a bigger person for the morrow. I pulled my waistband down for some relief and, without thinking, pulled my top up to reveal my belly.

Friday came again and, as I snapped awake to the blaring of my alarm, I rolled over and slowly sat up. My belly pushing my thighs apart to make room for its entrance. It was still all so new and my whole body tingled with the desire to become intimately aquatinted with every new roll, but it was this same desire that kept me gaining. I was long past my highest weight and fear had started to mix with excitement. The quivering of my lip was nourishment to her, and I still yet dreamed of finding a way to escape the pact. I need only resist my own carnal desires. But everything was new. The way my sides now bulged out into the path of my elbows or how firmly chairs held my bottom. Even my hands had grown thicker. My skin was so incredibly soft and my hair had become thick and lively. For as entrapped as I was, I could not deny that the creature took great care of her subjects.

Speaking of that cheap, old office chair, it finally gave up the ghost. Not with a loud snap, but with a dull clunk. My original request for a more accommodating chair was initially denied until my boss, a larger individual himself and sympathetic to my plight, made a call on my behalf. Perhaps in a gesture to make up for the situation, he took me out to lunch and, for the first time, I felt comfortable eating what I cared to without feeling self-conscious of what others might think. Perhaps it was the kindness of his manner. Maybe it was the guard of being among larger people whom would be eating their share alongside me. Or perhaps I had simply become more comfortable asking for seconds. Whatever it was, Friday left me in a positive mindset and, upon returning home, felt ready to revel in my gluttony with abandon.

Still full from my dinner, I pulled my waistband down and, without thinking, pulled my top up to reveal my belly. I reached down with both hands and picked it up, plopping it onto the countertop in the kitchen. It came down with a warm clap on the cool surface of the counter, chilling the bottom of my belly as I leaned over my swollen tum to relieve the pull on my back.

Stuffed, but desirous of a trophy, I reached into the cabinet and grabbed a half-eaten bag of chips. Then, began to stroke my paunch as I ate; intoxicated by the excess. Even without the pact, I wondered if I could ever truly resist the allure of getting bigger. I was very, very fat now. And that was satisfying my soul.

As if giving myself over to gluttony, Saturday was mostly spent eating and enjoying my new form. There wasn’t an inch of me I couldn’t find pleasure in. I remained worried about the future, but the allure of the present was deafening.

When I awoke Sunday, I opened my eyes to find her! In bed with me! She had been holding me and stroking my belly. “What are you doing here?!” I asked, startled.

“Why, I’m here to reward you.” She whispered, accompanied by her proudest grin.

“For what?” I replied, with thoughts of my previous night’s excess weighing heavily on my conscience.

“Today makes 100 pounds.” She answered flatly, almost surprised by the question. I reeled from her response but the evidence was all around me. I sat up and made my way to the side of the bed. My thighs spread before me like sheet cakes in the bakery window and my belly hung down between my thighs. Atop my belly I could feel the weight of both of my boobs pressing down like two cherries buried atop a mountain of whipped cream. I felt massive. The bed sunk deeper than ever under me and it sunk even further as she leaned forward and reached down to grab the bottom of my belly.

Reaching out once more, she was able to wrap her chubby fingers around some of my waist and gave it a gentle wobble. “Someone’s looking plump.” She teased.

I swallowed, “may I ask… what my reward is to be?” Afraid of the answer being more of the gift she had already bestowed so unwillingly upon me.

“Why, me, of course.” Her eternal grin now taking a wicked shape. “I am a kind master and have not forgotten the hunger in your eyes from when you first laid eyes on me.” She stood up. “But first, let us get you fed. I know you will not be truly happy until you are full.” She brushed my pathetic attempts at refusal aside and sat me against my own headboard before a company of women began marching into the room with trays of food. Each one fatter and more beautiful than the last. Lo mein, pizza, waffles, fries, curry, spaghetti, tamales, beef patties. Every comfort food the world over poured into my room and we all dined like lovers.

I lay, immobile, stuffed beyond my limit against my headboard. The trays had been cleared and the room was once more ours, alone. She gently poked and squeezed me wherever she thought might be softest. I was useless, but managed to squeak out a desire to squeeze some of her too. She obliged and, as if to give me the best of what I hoped for, laid beside me and let her belly rest on my hand. The weight of her stomach on my arm, the soft touch of her belly on my fingers, and all of her pressing into my side was ecstasy. She began to lift and drop my belly, shaking it in slow, wide motions, unable to stop her own body, still pressed against mine, from jiggling with me. The heat rose into my face as the waves of my fat rippled across my body and sent static shocks through every nerve ending.

As if sensing I was nearly there, she sat up and leaned forward a little, wrapping her lips around my nipple. It was a soft pull. Gently, but with the unmistakable rhythm that my whole body now pulsed to. Yet as she did this I suddenly became aware of the uneven distribution of affection. “Can I–“ I started before almost losing my nerve. “Can I, um, for you.” As if reading this more literally than I meant it, she looked down at her own breast and giggled.

“Are you sure? They’re quite rich. You’ll be even fatter before you finish.” Fear now met with excitement but both were quelled by an inhuman desire to please. And with a nod she came to sit up against me, pulling her strap down to reveal her teat. I cupped her breast, as big as my head and overflowing both of my hands, and began to suckle as she let out the most indulgent moan.

To my surprise, I was drinking. Warm and light, yet creamy. My mouth felt hydrated in a way it never had before. As if before this moment I had only ever known thirst. A tingle ran from my tongue to my cheeks and out across my entire body so strong my eyes clenched shut as if to brace my face for the aftershock. Suddenly I began to feel something else too. I could feel my stomach growing. Had I been able to take either hand off of her breast as I drank, I could have pointed to exactly where I was gaining though I would have needed multiple hands as I could tell I was gaining almost everywhere but at different times. It was like becoming a waterbed filled with pop rocks. My skin crackled and my hair stood on end as the sensation washed over me with each gulp. As my arms began to grow heavier, I opened my eyes to see her in full bloom. Now shaking and squishing her own bits, and proving she, herself, was no stranger to the sins she encouraged.

Her milk was still coating my throat as she pulled her breast back, my arms falling heavy to my sides. I could feel my chubby biceps chafe against my breasts, chest now heaving as if just remembering to breathe from the lack of air as I drank. I looked down at myself and could tell my thirst had come with consequences. Following my gaze, she began to jiggle me and bring my stomach heaving up and down. I was still so full. The weight of my stomach pressing down inside as my fat rolls wobbled and shook on the outside.

“Look at you~” she cooed. “Open your eyes and look.” I suddenly realize I had closed my eyes again. “Look at how fat you are. You shouldn’t have drank from me but it was just so kind of you to offer I couldn’t say no.” She began kissing along my arm and down to my breast. “Now you’re almost as big as me.” I looked at her, her eyes still glowing from the exercise, and realized we were quite close in size now. She was still the larger woman, in fact, she might have even gotten a little larger than when we first met, but even in her presence, I felt big. “You’re about to be the biggest girl in every room you enter.” She teased. And then she came up to my chin and gently bit my double chin. Not hard, or even long. Just enough to tell me it was so big she could fill her mouth with it which was much more chin than I thought I had. I shook at the realization that, lying on my back across this bed, I might not be able to tell how fat I really am now. I tried to sit up, but she put a hand on my chest and stopped me. Then, with the softest of touches, raised a finger to my lip, and I fell silent. Not moving an inch.

She then reached both hands under my belly and began to jiggle me in impossible ways. My ass wobbled, my thighs quivered, my chin and even my cheeks jiggled. If there was an ounce of me with fat on it I was not allowed to escape the knowledge of it. Rivers of colors poured across my eyes as every sensation fought to make way for the roaring crescendos crashing against the walls of a kind of self love you’ll never learn about from any book.

As I lay there, panting, she softly bent over, and kissed my belly. Then curled up beside me, and we slept. When I woke up, she was gone. And then came Monday.

I awoke just a few minutes before my alarm feeling uncharacteristically well-rested. I rolled over to the edge of the bed and sat up. I waddled down to the bathroom, as bleary-eyed as ever, and began to get ready for work.

As I brushed my teeth, I noticed in the mirror that one side of my belly hung a little lower than the other. It wasn’t very noticeable. The kind of imperfection one only sees in themselves. But then I remembered that was the side she had pressed against so warmly the night before and, in a way, I almost loved that side of me more.

Dressed now in a skirt and blouse. A crop top as is the season for summer and who doesn’t want to show a little skin. Paired with skirt. And behind these outer dressings I could see a person I didn’t quite recognize. That I was excited by as much as I was afraid of. A person that would gain another 10 pounds tomorrow and the day after that if they couldn’t bring themselves to reason. A person, I must add, that had just spent too long ogling their own fat ass and was now late for the bus. But this time, I wasn’t running to catch it. I was gonna take the car. After all, easier to pick up snacks after work.

Fin~

#before and fatter #fat girls #help me get fatter #getting fatter on purpose #fat jiggle #fat #lesbian

Here’s part 1 of a rough draft of some sapphic weight gain smut I wrote. Still revising. This focuses more on the perspective of the woman and her body rather than the usual trope of centering a feeder.

#getting fatter on purpose #fat girls #lesbian #help me get fatter #before and fatter #fat

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