Chapter 1

“The diet starts tomorrow,” Stephanie promised near indiscernibly, her chubby cheeks crammed full of an oversized bite of the half-eaten cake in front of her. “I promise,“ she continued, a spattering of crumbs spewing from her plump lips. “This is just so *urrrrp* good.”

Brent rolled his eyes and pushed the edge of the plate closer, well aware that the difference of a few centimeters had absolutely no standing on if the swollen, greedy girl in front of him would finish her dessert. She would. Stephanie wouldn't let a thing stop her from devouring the entire frosted confection despite what she’d promised herself, and the next massive bite that coated the corners of her mouth in a fresh layer of whipped buttercream only served to emphasize that point.

“That's what you always say,” Brent reminded her gently, a smile easing its way onto his face as he watched his greedy girlfriend cram herself with more calories than most people eat in a day. “You always say the diet’s gonna start tomorrow, and it never does.”

Stephanie swallowed again and groaned, resting a chubby hand on her rounded, protruding gut that was clearly aching from how full she’d stuffed herself. She stifled a burp and took another bite, this time moaning as soon as she began to chew. Brent, well aware that his overfed lover was reaching her limit, reached out and placed a gentle hand on the curve of her belly, even the light touch increasing the intensity of her overstuffed exclamations. He began to rub her gut in slow, oscillating circles, bringing his hand up to the firm, fatty crest of her belly and then back down to the jiggling hang that had lately begun to succumb to gravity, wobbling itself free of all of her undersized shirts the minute she tried to take a step.

She’d been indulging like a woman possessed as of late, and the last few months had done obviously irreparable damage to her figure. She was steadily ballooning, slowly blimping up as if being inflated with a steady stream of lard, and her clothes were beginning to lose their battle with the wobbling layer of fat coating the girl's entire frame. Her thighs had grown surprisingly thick and were beginning to transform her (admittedly already quite slow) walk into a bit of a waddle. She struggled to move each cellulite-dimpled thigh past each other, and as waddling around became more of a chore, she participated in it less and less, that newfound laziness another major reason she’d piled on so much weight.

The new growth of her thighs was necessary to support how wide her ass had become, and the combination of the fat-laden, jiggling cheeks and the swollen, unwieldy thighs made squeezing into any of her jeans near impossible. She refused to buy larger sizes, her insistence that the diet would start tomorrow an assertion that she was clearly unprepared to relinquish, but that mentality was leading her to the kinds of embarrassing situations that made Brent rock hard at the very thought.

She would cram her lower half into a pair of too-small jeans, doing her best to suck in, hold her breath, and force the unwilling button closed, and then inspect herself in the mirror, marveling at how her fatty love handles puffed over the top of her waistband. The pants would cut into her so deeply she’d be left with angry red lines across her middle, lines that were exposed as soon as she’d eaten enough to require an unfastening. Sometimes, when her gluttony got the best of her, she found herself compelled unable to stop, Brent’s encouragements murmured gently in her ears while his hands jiggled and caressed her ever-growing body. She would cram herself fuller and fuller, the pain in her middle only increasing as her pants grew tighter until the button would finally give, the muted pop and clatter of the fallen button entirely ignored by her lust drunk man in favor of the way her belly surged forward and pushed into her lap, someone still jiggling although she was full to bursting. These were the kinds of things that Brent couldn't handle, and always resulted in a premature end to the feeding session so that Brent could address Stephanie’s other needs.

Stephanie's shirts typically fared no better than her pants, and the bottom of her ball-like bell was always sticking out of her tops and leaving a significant strip of exposed skin that only served to make her appear even fatter than she already was. In terms of the integrity of her tops, however, her belly was the least of her concerns. The bouncy, heaving shelf of her cleavage was the real impediment to properly fitting attire, and her recent gain had only made the situation more exaggerated.

Her attempts to squash her enormous tits into bras and tank tops that couldn't handle a fraction of her true cup size left her with dramatically emphasized cleavage, and the way her tits spilled over her neckline and wobbled at her every movement was nothing less than mesmerizing.

She’d begun to rely on sports bras more than the traditional clasps, not just because the sports bras allowed for slightly more appropriate outfits, but also because fastening the clasps of her regular bras was beginning to become impossible, her swelling rolls of back fat leaving her dependant on Brents help. He would push her onto the bed, positioned behind her with one hand on each side of the struggling bra as if holding reins, and make an often unsuccessful attempt to pull the clasps towards each other, grunting from the effort of attempt to squish her massive chest into undergarments that she’d outgrown more than 40 pounds ago.

Her breasts, unlike her belly, had yet to lose their battle with gravity, and were somehow impossibly perky despite their overwhelming heft. Stephanie's hopes of throwing together appropriate outfits were always squashed by the weight of her massive tits, and the bigger she got, the tighter and tighter her shirts were beginning to grow. She was making a spectacle of herself at this point, and the oddly alluring draw of her fattening, jiggling body waddling along as her tits and belly bounced in union was almost impossible to look away from. She felt the stares, the shock, and the attention whenever she left the house as if it were physically palpable, and the humiliation of the awareness that everyone was looking at her, judging her, and watching her grow fatter, was what motivated her little unfilled daily promise, much to Brent’s amusement.

He loved the way that her growing appetite was making it impossible for her to commit to the healthier lifestyle she swore she really wanted, and as he fed her more and more, the chances of her ever dropping all the extra weight she packed on diminished significantly. While he hadn't been aware of his true attraction until he met Stephanie, watched her grow, and finally felt the curve of her belly that first, life-altering occasion, Brent's drive to keep Stephanie as stuffed as possible had somehow outgrown hers. Her gluttony was nothing in the face of his desire, and the bigger she got, the more enamored Brent was becoming with every wobbling inch of her body.

She was growing in ways he never could’ve expected or anticipated, and he often found himself staring at her while she stuffed herself silly with an intensity usually reserved for memorization. He was trying to memorize her, in a way. He wanted to enjoy every stage of her gain, every size her body became, and that was difficult the more quickly she began to blow up. It was as if he awoke next to a new woman each day, and that heavier, thicker woman became his new standard of beauty. That cycle only made Brent's overall affection for Stephanie grow, and as their bond deepened, Stephanie acquiesced to his feeding more often, allowing him to pick her meals and portions and giving up on any protest aside from her empty threat of the next morning's healthy new diet.

That slow, subconscious acceptance was helping Stephanie pork up in ways neither she nor Brent had ever considered, and her chubby little sausage fingers, thickening ankles, plush, fatty calves, soft, jiggling upper arms, and growing double chin all served to reveal the truth of exactly how large she’d become. Brent still found himself occasionally growing shy and flustered in the face of Stephanie's gluttony and her perfect, swollen body, and she found it sweet just how easily he became tongue-tied in her presence. They‘d fallen for each other, hard, and that fall seemed, at least for the time being, to be perpetual. An endless rabbit hole into which they both dropped deeper and deeper, into which they both began to lose sight of reality in favor of the warm, cozy sensation of breath on neck and flesh on flesh.

She took another enormous bite as Brent continued to work his hands over her body, unable to stop himself from the temptation of briefly cupping one of her heavy breasts and giving it a quick jiggle before returning to the task of soothing his girlfriend's aching, tight belly. Despite her obvious discomfort she didn't slow down, and the cake Brent had selected for her from the grocery store with enough slices to feed 6 people, (comparatively small when displayed next to the larger sheet cakes on offer yet nearly triple the calories a girl as fat as Stephanie should be consuming in a single day) was disappearing just as steadily as it had been her first few bites.

She finally crammed in the last forkful, nearly gasping from the pressure in her middle, and Brent exhaled heavily, want rising within him like the afternoon tide. He didn't even know it was possible to be reared to go as consistently as Stephanie made him feel, and on more than one occasion he’d nearly lost control of himself in public, forcing himself to concentrate in order to avoid an obvious hard-on. In the comfort of their on-campus apartment, however, he was free to make his thoughts on Stephanie’s growth and gluttony more than obvious, and as he continued to rub her gut her breathing quickened, making a coy smile flash across Brent's face.

“You ok baby?” he murmured as if he were unaware of the source of her discomfort. “What's wrong my little piggy? Did you overdo it? Did you eat too much?”

Stephanie opened her mouth to respond but was immediately interrupted by a massive burp and simply groaned louder, the pressure of Brent's hands increasing. He pressed into the side of her gut and produced another loud burp, then smacked the center of the wobbling, round ball of adipose attached to her middle, Stephanie's groans only increasing in pitch.

“C’mon baby, let's get you to bed,” he cooed, already standing and extending both hands to the overfed fatty.

Stephanie was nowhere near fat enough to struggle with simple mobility tasks like standing under normal circumstances, but when she was stuffed like this she relied upon Brent for everything, leaning on him heavily to so much as waddle down the hallway. He grabbed her pudgy hands in his and grunted with effort as he hauled her to her feet, a task that was expending more and more energy for him these days, and began their slow plod to the bedroom, Stephanie's groans punctuating each step.

The next day she awoke in silence, the previous night's debauchery cleared from her memory entirely until she attempted to sit up. She looked down in shock, feeling the weight of her belly pressing against her upper thighs and placing a hand on its bulging crest in shock. She often felt she looked larger the day after a particularly caloric stuffing, but this was beyond any overnight growth she’d ever experienced. Sudden influxes in extra flab were certainly something Stephanie was used to, especially after a week or two of stagnation despite never reducing her daily intake of junk food and sweets, but the way her gut was surging forward and completely obscuring the tight pink and red panties she swore made her feel like she’d gained ten pounds overnight.

She lifted her gut in both hands and dropped it, equally confused and fascinated by the immediate jiggly that left her whole body, particularly her barely contained tits, shaking for several seconds. She’d woken up alone as she always did on Thursday when Brent had an 8am class, and it was no surprise that she’d forgotten to set her alarm last night. The stuffing followed by multiple rounds of pleasure brought on by Brent had worn her out entirely, and she’d fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. That lack of foreplanning had caused her to wake up later than she anticipated, and when she grabbed her phone from the bedside table and clicked it to life she was disappointed to see that she had only 30 minutes to get ready before her first class, technically 20 minutes considering the fact that the once 5-minute walk from her dorm to the universities engineering wing had nearly doubled in length as she grew fatter.

She sighed, rubbed her eyes groggily, and swung her feet off the side of the bed and to the floor, her porky little toes sinking into the carpet. She had to get dressed. She rushed through a quick shower then stood in her closet wrapped in a towel, her belly poking out so far it was sightly obscuring her view of her own feet. She sighed again, well aware that getting dressed that day would be a herculean task.

She selected a pair of black leggings, knowing better than to even attempt jeans, dropped her towel, and began to slowly work the fabric up her thick legs, her bare breasts bouncing with each little jump to inch the leggings higher. The seams creaked in protest but held, and Stephanie attempted to suck in while the fat coating her lower half stretched the fabric to translucency. She eventually tugged the leggings up to her hips and stopped for a break, breathing more heavily than she would've liked to admit. The task of dressing herself was beginning to become near impossible, and unless she actually started that diet that she constantly referenced, she was going to have to bite the bullet and purchase plus-sized clothes.

She rolled her eyes, already anticipating Brent's lustful and besotted reaction to that little piece of news, and flipped through her hangers for an acceptable t-shirt, her leggings still not quite pulled high enough for decency's sake. She decided on a simple grey graphic tee with images of her University's various sports team logos, an ironic choice considering she hadn’t exercised in so long she couldn't remember the last instance, then turned towards the dresser tucked into the back of the closet and extracted a black sports bra from the second drawer. Without Brent's help she had absolutely no shot of contorting her bulging breasts into a real bra, and while she’d selected the largest sports bra she had, there was still no telling if she’d actually be able to get it on. She began the process, immediately getting stuck as she tried to work her other arms into the tight band of the spandex blend fabric, and a few minutes of struggling later, the bra was finally over both shoulders and rested atop her massive breast, the fabric clearly inadequate for the task of actually covering them.

She gripped the lower band of the bra with determination and began to pull, hoping against reason that the fabric would magically stretch to accommodate her impressive rack. She pulled the bra as far down as she possibly could, yet again hearing snaps and protests from the overtaxed fabric, and found she was only able to pull the bra low enough to barely cover her nipples. A handful of firm, swollen flesh oozed out of the bottom of either side of the bra and Stephanie threw up her hands in frustration. She couldn't be late today (although her clothing options seemed to suggest that she had no chance of an on-time arrival) due to a quiz in her circuit theory course, both herself and Brent students in the mechanical engineering program. Brent always met her there after leaving straight from his earlier class, and he’d be concerned if she didn't arrive a few minutes early to go over their last notes.

She sighed again then changed her course of action, grabbing each meaty breast with both hands and lifting them over the confining fabric of the bra, essentially stuffing herself into it. This meant that instead of her boobs spilling out of the undergarments bottoms, they were pouring over the top, a look so salacious and scandalous at her size that a brief glance in the mirror left her blushing. She hoisted her leggings a bit higher and grabbed the gray t-shirt she’d selected, already sticking one arm through when her phone began to buzz.

She stopped and grabbed it, expecting to see Brent's name and pleasantly surprised to see that the contact in question was actually Taylor, a friend of hers whose soft, ample, body likely brought about plenty of the same issues that Stephanie faced. She’d known Taylor for a while, another student enrolled in the mechanical engineering program, and while Taylor had certainly never been thin, since meeting her boyfriend Thomas she'd positively exploded, gaining weight even more quickly than Stephanie had.

Thomas was a sweet guy who Brent got along with well, meaning the two couples enjoyed plenty of double dates, but watching Thomas with Taylor gave Stephanie an eerily familiar feeling. The portion sizes he bought for Taylor, the way he couldn't take his eyes off her belly and growing body, the way his hands always found themselves gravitating to Taylor's plump belly, it was all textbook feeder behavior. They’d never discussed it, Stephanie politely averting her gaze or changing the subject when evidence too compelling was provided, but Thomas was clearly as infatuated with Taylor's growth as Brent was infatuated with Stephanie’s.

Having a friend and ally in her increasingly piggish habits and growing appetite was a dream come true, and the bigger the two of them became, the more.......








*Th anks so much for reading the beginning of this commission! The reader and I really loved how the second half turned out:)*