Heavy Cream [wg]

Chapter 1 - Misunderstanding

Disclaimer: This story contains fat fetish material, including fat shaming, weight gain, and manipulation. Reader’s discretion advised.
This is my first fetish work and my first story in quite some time, feedback appreciated!


Damn… you’ve really let yourself go, haven't you fatty? I remember when you told me you didn’t mind the weight, that it was just a few “relationship pounds." You stopped going for your daily walks, telling me a myriad of excuses, seemingly oblivious to the sweet drinks and pastries littered about the house. You snipped at me when your pants started to fit a little more snugly than they did before, desperately denying how those pants already fit your fat ass more like a corset every day. I could see how your body swelled, grew, and jiggled, masking whatever socially desirable curves you once had under a growing layer of fat. We’ve come so far these past few years… I’m so proud of my little piggy, thick and delicious like heavy cream.


I knew you'd be into this from the first day we met: your bejeweled eyes staring into mine, our thin hands interlaced as chipper laughter filled the restaurant table. You were so pure, beautiful… but most importantly, unaware. The night flew by with a fervor of sugary cocktails, pastry spreads and pasta dishes. I watched you reel your neck back as the buttery, savory, sugary sensations melted down your throat. The inhuman pleasure you drew from those calorie-dense sweets was all the assurance I needed: I knew you were perfect for me. You chuckled embarrassingly, saying you were “normally on a diet” and that you “never ate like this,” but I know exactly what you were… and what you are.


You didn’t even have to tell me you were the fat kid in school, shunned by your peers and forced on a diet by your parents. You didn’t have to say how hard it was everyday looking in the mirror and hating yourself, because I could see that deep sense of disconnect in the way you slathered your luxurious face in selfie filters online. You didn’t even have to say how much you appreciated how non judgemental I was when you “enjoyed yourself” at the restaurant and got to eat what you want. You never wanted to be skinny, you never wanted to conform, you just wanted to be free… yet, you never got the chance.


We moved in together nine months later. This little space of ours was definitely a tight squeeze for two thin-as-rails people, but we adjusted well. Being here away from the judgemental eye of your parents was liberating, wasn’t it? You got cuddles, kisses, hugs, sex, and a whole lot of food to ease the discomfort of your move away from home. Every morning your breakfast portion would look a little bigger, and every evening your snack bags began littering the bedside. I’d always make both our plates a little bigger… and made sure I fed you a bit more of my portion each time. No calorie was left uncounted as I snuck in more bread, more fats, more sugars into every dinner dish, slowly training your taste buds to accept these flavors as “normal.” Your athletic parents would shudder knowing you snuck three bags of McyD's into the house only a few months in… and your loving partner couldn’t be any happier.


I wasn’t sure when I’d tell you my fetish… if I ever would… I mean, why would I? You were happy, you were loving it. When we’d cuddle in bed, you gladly opened your greedy little maw for me to shove useless calories into tenderly. When we fucked, you would feel the soft plush of your hips and stomach slapping against my thin hips. You couldn’t explain it then, but our intimacy just seemed to grow and grow as your once skinny body did the same. At first, every inch, every pound, every curve was gently painted across your body like a canvas, accentuating your natural curves. You didn’t mind the attention, and I sure as hell didn’t mind the way it felt. It was a match made in heaven, and if that's the way it had to be, so be it…



I came back from work at my consulting job one night and saw you feebly standing by the door frame. Your legs quivered as you struggled to bear the combined weight of your tubby body and the shocking photos you found on an old phone of mine. As the words dripped from your mouth in stutters, I tried to hug you… yet, you shoved me away violently. You saw the “fat bitches” in my gallery, you asked who this “Mikela” girl was, and why I’d be holding such a plainly obese woman so intimately. I could see the rage, the betrayal, the distance in those eyes of yours… like a bridge crushed under the weight of unanswered questions. As I reached in for a hug, gripping your love handles the way I always did, that feeling of revulsion came back. You shuttered, breaking away from me and locking yourself in the bathroom in a fit of tears. I knew you stared at yourself then like the alienated, shunned child you were before. I will never forget the conversation we had that night:


“Anna?” My tepid voice crept from the bottom of my throat, aching to fix what I had broken. Before I could speak, a flood of tears washed me away from the door. The air grew still… I felt like a sailboat cast out to sea without a breeze. There was nowhere for us to go, nothing for me to say, no words could truly help me process the cascade of emotions battering around in my heart. There we were for what felt like an eternity, until the waves of crying paused for a brief moment…


“Emmett… Who am I to you?” Anna asked this question so certainly, I KNEW this answer so certainly… So why did I freeze?


“Anna, honey, I… I need to be honest with you, okay?” The door creaked open slowly: You were pressing your hand on the wall, staring absently into my eyes. Your body slouched as tears welled from your cheeks, looking as if you were withdrawing your body from the world. I hardly recognize this person… The gleam from your eyes grew a sickly dim as you averted eye contact once more.


“Do I repulse you? Am I not enough for you?!”


The air grew still, the tension thick like butter. I struggled to speak, the words glued into my mouth.


“Just say it… that you don’t love me. I repulse you, huh?! Cause I’m not 'fat' enough for you?!” Both of us inhabited the silence with a hollowness in our hearts. Neither of us truly stood there… we didn’t know where we were at that moment… and I know you felt just as lost as I did.


“Just say it! Admit that I’m some skinny bitch you swooned just to fatten up!” I was dumbfounded by Anna’s directness, still unable to speak. Every fiber in my body screamed in anguish at her words, yet… the truth seared so deeply. She deserved to speak, she deserved to truly be heard.


“I can’t believe I didn’t see it earlier… all the sweets, the cakes, the deserts! All the mornings we stayed in just so you could feel me up while I ate more shit food! Is this what you’re into?! Aren't you ashamed?!” Yet, when you said those words, something did break the silence… I started crying. I shuttered, falling into a heap of tears on the floor, crying and begging for forgiveness. The Anna I knew would never say those things to me… would she?


Yet, I felt something warm and soft wrapping me… your tender body grasped me as I fell apart. We didn’t say a word that moment, there was nothing to be said… there was nothing that could be said. Yet somehow, that distance seemed to fade through the echoes of our sorrows and the warmth of our bodies. I wiped my eyes and saw you again… the woman I love. Anna, I truly thought I lost you, and I know you thought the same. Staring into those beaming eyes once more, we both teared up together as we laid on the floor in one-another’s embrace apologizing.


I decided to call off work for tomorrow and the both of us just talked. I admitted to Anna all about my fat fetish, how I secretly love obesity and all of the struggles that come with it. How tending to and pampering my loved one, watching them grow, is a form of physical and emotional intimacy that I can’t live without. That the struggles of weight gain, the comfort and hedonism of food, the desire to get fat and to want my partner to be fat, are all things I just can’t live without. I explained how I tried to share this with my ex partner Mikela, yet this tore our relationship apart and I didn’t want to go through that again. When I stopped talking, I expected you to feel violated, disgusted, enraged… yet, you sat calmly with a concerned look.


“Can I be honest with you too?” I stared into your eyes captivated, yet concerned, as you twirled your fingers into your frizzy dark hair.


“I… had a strong feeling you wanted this from the start.” I can remember you giggling nervously as you saw the dumbfounded look on my face.


“When I overindulged on that first date, when you brought me so many sweets and sugary drinks during the first few months, I… I loved it. I loved how it felt to be adored, how it felt to be praised and pampered. I keep seeing the number go up, the features on my body growing softer, but I just don’t care! I don't care what my parents say, I love the way all of this makes me feel!” Though my eyes were still a teary mess, I could’ve sworn I saw you bite your lip and squeeze your hips together a bit more saying that.


“The way you make love to me, the way you feed me, the way you cherish my fat body… it’s how I always wanted to be loved…” It was difficult for you to open up in this moment, I could see that... so I reached up and cupped your chin with my hand, staring deeply into your eyes. You leaned in and passionately kissed me, grabbing my arm and guiding it to your love handles. As my hands explored your hips, you broke away for a brief moment to catch your breath.


“Well? You gonna let me starve, or what?” I bolted away from you to grab my phone as you chuckled while admiring your curves with a newfound confidence.