chapter 8

One morning, whilst Mike was cleaning the kitchen, Emily looked around, and when she saw no-one was watching, lifted up her shirt and displayed her belly, which with the padding and plumpening of her sides had passed roundness, becoming wider than it was high - all that prevented it from being a perfect oval was the hint of a crease beginning where each padded hip met it. It began to bulge out right below the underwires of Emily's bra, and stuck out nine inches at its fattest part, just below her navel. It was really beginning to enter rooms ahead of her. Hidden under Emily's skirt were two shallow creases above her pubic mound.. Her back had also gained a lot of fat, and now had three sets of love handles. The lowest of these was hiding, at the back and sides, the waistband of her drawstring skirt, which now had very nearly 47 inches of waist to get around. Her newly wider hips were at 54 inches. Her breasts were bigger again too, and Emily was wondering about going to try some 42 or 44D-cup bras. Her arms were beginning to look distinctly pudgy, as were her calves; her thighs had been that way for a while. She'd been thinking the gain was not very noticeable now that she was fatter all over, but apparently Mike had been paying attention.

As Mike was scrubbing away at the dishes, he was wondering what Emily was going to do next. She seemed intent on getting bigger and Mike was where it would end. Would she reach 200lbs, 300lbs? or would she reach 800lbs like he joked about one morning many weeks ago. Mike honestly loved Emily no matter what size she was and he had began to thoroughly enjoy the sex but would she really make herself that big?

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It had been a whirl wind relationship between Tasha and Dave. She liked to eat and he liked to feed her. Within 3 months, they were living together and the food was getting out of control.

Tasha was eating more and more, becoming less active. Tasha felt she was eating double what she thought a normal human being would consume daily. The more she ate, the lazier she seemed to get, too. Tasha was rapidly outgrowing her clothes, but she couldn't do anything about it, other than purchase new clothes.

Tasha stepped out of the shower one morning, and stepped on the scale, out of curiosity. She hadn't weighed herself in quite some time, although she suspected she'd put on a lot weight recently. The talking scale announced her weight...

"Oh my, I had no idea," she said, a little shocked. She unconsciously rubbed her fat thighs with her hands.

Just then, Dave stumbled into the washroom, yawning. He rubbed his hand over her large, hanging gut with one hand and rubbed his eye with the other.

Tasha watched him with a smile: She was his work of art. Her fat stomach stuck far out in front of her. It hung over her panties, and when she wasn't wearing those, it would partially obscure the view of her privates. When she scratched it, it sent waves through the fat. Her womanly breasts were perched on top.