Chapter 1 - ~ one shot ~

The first thing I heard was the familiar ding of the diner door, yet the subsequent sound of shoes on the floorboard was strangely absent. In its place was the faint sound of heavy breathing. I spun round and bore witness to two of the fattest belly rolls I had ever seen wedged in the door frame. Despite her struggling they could not inch any further forward.

Taking a laboured step back she stopped to catch her breath with beads of sweat forming on her forehead. I saw her shuffle up to the door once more, eyes squinting. She once again attempted to push her bulk through but with more vigour this time. Her thick doughy hands gripped the frame in an attempt to garner force, yet no amount of squirming and struggling was going push 500 pounds through that door. Red and determined she waddled around and tried it side on with an angry huff. Then finally, with a great heave she managed to get in. She sighed in relief but had to stop and rub her belly after it had been forcefully squeezed up against the sharper parts of the door frame. In the clear light I saw the dame better.

There was no area of her body that wasn’t padded with a hefty amount of chub and her entire colossal frame seemed to move with every deep breath she took. She was wearing a checkered dress that rode up to the top of her massive thighs and hugged her spherical figure a little too snugly. I could only guess she’d out grown the others as it was close to bursting. Her ample boobs were no help either at they sat perched on her belly, doughy and suffocating, leaving no room for her neck. Her blush seemed to be both from the effort of lugging herself over to the diner and from the spectacle her size was creating for her.

Not wanting to be rude I turned back to my modest stack of pancakes but kept an eye on the dame. She wobbled over to the stools and for one startling moment I thought she was attempting to heave her massive ass onto one! Only she was thinking similar thoughts to mine and reconsidered, her hands on her hips clearly irritated with the situation. She turned to the booths and sighed, they weren’t exactly a good option either, but the butterball couldn’t be picky. After waddling over to them I watched her line up with one of the booths and place her hands on the table, leaning on it for a moment to catch her breath.

Grunting she placed her ass down first, which was a bit less flabby than the rest of her but still took up enough space for the table to be cutting into her sides. With an extra loud grunt, she tried shifting her bulk to fit in the booth but her belly was simply too big. It was forced above the table and pushed into her face. So she compromised and forced her large lower tyre under the table and let her top roll sit above. After cocking her head back from the tiring exercise, she asked the waiter for some water and the menu.

Simply too curious for my own good I wolfed down the last of my pancakes and slid myself into the other side of the booth. I got in with ease and thought I caught a glimpse of jealousy from the dame. It was no surprise to me upon comparing us both seeing as she was easily 4 times my size.

“What’s your name darl?” she met my firm grip with her swollen hand and gave me a half-cocked smile.

“What’s it to you stranger?”

“I’m no stranger round here,” I smiled and directed her attention to the menu. What are we craving?

Her eyes lit up as she scanned the menu. Taking a lick of her plump lips the porker eventually settled on 4 beef burgers, 4 large serves of fries, 3 milkshakes and a family sized pie, all of which she recounted to the waiter wheezily, still a little winded from her journey to the diner.

“Would you like your drinks before or with your meal?” the waiter inquired, masking any potential shock they may have felt from both the sheer size of the order and the dame.

“Before,” she said almost forcefully. I could only imagine the appetite she’d worked up from the waddle over. Her face was comparable to a tomato both in colour and roundness, complimented by several flabby chins. Once the waiter left she turned back to me.

“Can’t be too careful about restaurant portions nowadays. They make ‘em too small so they can save money.”

Unsure as to whether she was saying that to me or herself to justify her shameless gluttony I decided to play along.

“Well you can’t knock a girl for having a healthy appetite, besides you look hungry.”

Shifting clumsily to accommodate her swollen bisected belly she took a sip of water before answering.

“Starving,” she ran a hand over her lower tyre and played with it idly. I wondered if it had become something of a habit for her. That and stuffing her guts.

A short while after the dame’s three milkshakes arrived – strawberry, chocolate and vanilla. Grasping for the nearest straw between her chubby fingers she greedily guzzled the first milkshake in record time, taking in the delicious strawberry and cream. Once she’d finished she immediately turned to the vanilla and slurped it down nearly as fast as the first. With a burp she lay back and eyed the third one, clearly thinking on something.

“Saving that for your food darl?”

She nodded and rubbed her lower tyre once more, growing somewhat irritable. She was nowhere near satiated and while those milkshakes had been nice, there was still food to enjoy. Shifting some more she kept looking back to the kitchen until eventually the meal arrived. Her eyes were almost as wide as her gut when the waitress placed the family sized meal in front of her. The waiter was quick to depart the scene, leaving the swollen babe to her meal. Taking the closest greasy beef burger she munched away ferociously, making sure not to waste any time doing what I could only assume was an hourly activity.

By her third burger she barely registered my presence, giving me time to do a little indulging of my own. Pretending I needed to tie my shoe I bent down and observed the half of her belly that had been wedged under the table. With the shift in her weight from sitting down and the added expansion of her stuffed gut there was very little room for her dress. It only barely covered her lower belly and I could see some of her pale bulk spilling out from the bottom. Upon closer inspection I could see the side seams of her dress pulling and stretching trying desperately to accommodate her. Further down I was met with cascading rolls of fat on her upper thighs that seemed to jiggle as she shifted her legs back and forth excitedly.

I sat back up and noticed she had slowed down considerably. All the burgers were polished off but she still had one serve of chips and the pie to go.

“What’s the matter?”

She stared at her meal and burped.

“Mighta gotten too much food, I’m completely stuffed.” She groaned, feeling the strain of her stomach.

I shuffled my way around to meet her on her side of the booth… or rather as close as I could get to her side as she’d managed to take up nearly the entire row. I could feel her oversized love handle gently pushing into me as I approached her.

“But there’s a part of you that still wants to finish your chips, your pie, and that chocolate milkshake isn’t there darlin’? They’re still looking pretty damn tasty, aren’t they?”

She gulped and salivated a little, thinking on her dilemma.

Deciding she needed a little persuading, I cut a small slice of pie and moved it slowly towards my mouth. She frowned and attempted to heave herself forward and grab it from me, but her weight kept her pinned down, leaving her swatting in the direction of my hand futility. Smirking I gave it a bite and made sure to visibly savour it and watched as she grew jealous.

“Try the rest,” I egged her on, “here,” I helped shoved the rest of the slice into her mouth. She turned it over in her mouth and from her expression I could tell her meal wasn’t over yet.

I grabbed the knife once more and sliced the pie into several pieces.

“Another slice?”

She nodded and waited mouth open, becoming complacent with that fact that she was far too stuffed and heavy to reach for her pie. I grabbed it and fed it to the dame, having to strain to even reach her mouth without pushing up into the rest of her enormous girth.

I continued to feed her slice after slice and what was soft moans of contentment turned to deeper groans and even more shifting to accommodate her swollen self. The already frustrated seams in her dress grew angry and before long I heard an audible “riiiiiiip” followed by a gasp from the butterball. Growing scarlet she felt as her dress came apart at the sides forcing her soft bulk out. And yet, even with that she was still looking back at the remainder of her meal. I knew this piggy was far too gone.

“No one’s looking princess, if anything,” I ripped her dress a little more “it frees up some room for you.”

Exhaling at the little bit of room her belly was given she grew determined.

“I’m not done,” she demanded, and I delivered. Feeding her the last of her meal she was left with only the remainder of her chocolate milkshake, which she finished with a few laboured gulps and a burp. Part of me was shocked at how one person could consume so much but turning back to the spherical dame I couldn’t really be all that surprised. She sat leaning back slightly with both hands on her belly trying to soothe it. Her eyes were closed, and she looked more content than I’d seen her the entire day. She stayed like that for a few blissful minutes… so I knew something was up when she snapped awake.

“What’s wrong?”

With a soft “hmpf,” she tried to move to the side but was forced back by her body. Growing impatient she tried again, only this time she tried simply lifting herself up and shifted around agitatedly when she just couldn’t budge.