Chapter 1. Submit your story ideas

Dearest reader, you sweet little macaron,

If you follow me and regularly keep up with my stories - thank you so much 🥺 It makes me really happy to know there are people who get excited about reading my work! If you don't follow me and you're like, what the heck is this, go check out my stories and come back 😘

I want to celebrate my 200 followers (I love each and every one of you 🤗) by giving you all the option to submit a story idea, or writing prompt, for me to write a story about. I'll leave this up for about a month, at the end of which I will randomly select one of your prompts and write a short story based on it!

How to submit a story idea: leave a comment below 🥰 Feel free to make your story idea as specific or open-ended as you want. You can write one sentence, you can write a paragraph 💜

Happy writing! 💋

Xx

~ Passing For Vanilla 🤫

P.s. Since there's a character minimum to post stories, I've attached a piece of writing I started working on but don't know when I'll develop further. Enjoy the sneak peek! 😘

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Working title: Fat Girl Summer

Chapter 1. The Taste of Freedom

Ever since I was a little girl, I been dreaming about getting shockingly, recklessly fat. I'm not talking about gaining a little weight here and there, the natural fluctuations everyone goes through. Or the holiday pounds that sneak up on ya when you're too busy enjoying family gatherings and good food to notice. I'm talking, getting so big that the phrase "large as a barge" becomes an appropriate description. Eating so much in public you attract horrified glances from nosey eyes. Ripping the seat of an old pair of jeans when you bend over cause your backside's just gotten too darn big since the last time you wore 'em. Filling your belly up 'til it's hard to breathe and you nearly burst, but you don't and instead your belly rounds out and firms up like a party balloon and it sits in your lap and passerby ask how many months along you are. Splitting the seams of a shirt that was fitting just fine when you bought it a few months ago. Not being surprised, cause it's been getting tighter and tighter by the week. Feeling your boobs bounce and your belly wobble and your bum jiggle with every step you take.

I used to draw pictures, artwork titled "Me in the futur". I wasn't a talented artist back then, I'm still not, but I was determined to illustrate my goals. In the drawings, I always had a potbelly. I even drew comics, where I'd start off skinny but eat and eat and eat. Cartoon me's belly grew bigger by the panel, reaching unreasonable proportions by the end. Up until now, those were just lines on a page. But this summer, I'm making 'em a reality.

Growing up, I never really got the chance to indulge. My parents were quick to criticize and degrade anyone who needed to loosen their belt for a meal, or reached for an extra slice of pie during dessert. I was always "encouraged" (more like forced) to participate in a competitive sport that required intense training. I got a full ride to play beach volleyball during my undergrad, so for the past four years I've adhered to a strict workout regimen and carefully controlled my portions.

No more of that for me, though. I just graduated. It feels like I've been waiting for this summer since my first day on the varsity team. I'm finally free. I'm living alone. I don't have to play volleyball. And now? I can get as fat as I want.

Chapter 2. Reflection

When you're an athlete, having a great (by society's standards anyway) body is just part of the package. Course I'm fit, I have to be. Toned arms, muscular legs, defined abs. I'm on the shorter side, only 5'2"-ish, but I make up for it in speed and power on the court. I suppose I'm not an eyesore to look at. Wavy hair, dyed red like The Little Mermaid because I can and I want to, vibrant green eyes, milky white skin that by some miracle manages to tan a bit in the summer. Looking at myself in the mirror on the first day of summer, I feel a rush of giddiness. I'll be saying bye to these abs and sharp angles soon, saying hello and welcome to new curves and a soft belly.

Lucky for me, I can afford to take this summer off before worrying about a full-time job. Which means, all the more time to work on my beach bod! Although maybe not in the way most people intend. Without further ado, I throw on a loose sundress and skip out the door. This summer, the only box on my to-do list is to let myself go.

The idea of a formerly fit person "letting themselves go" has always been compelling and sexy to me. There's something thrilling about throwing caution to the wind and just letting your appetite take you where it may, relinquishing control of your body and physical appearance in the process. It's just a turn-on to picture someone with discipline throwing it all away to revel in every guilty pleasure they had tried to keep under lock and key their whole life. The consequences? A visible transformation brought on by their own sinful desires, inevitable and unstoppable. It's only a matter of time before they succumb fully, and by then they've already been sidelined as a helpless observer.

If rampant indulgence is one vice of mine, humiliation is another. Varsity team captain turned butterball - could there be a fate more embarrassing? More arousing? Just imagining what they'll say about me is enough to start wetting my panties.

"Oh my god, did you see her?"

"What the hell happened?"

"No, that can't be her..."

"I can't believe she let herself go like that, it's disgusting."

I've played this scenario out in my head time and time again. One day, it will be more than a fantasy.