The prince and the button popper

Chapter 1 - It runs in the family

Once upon a time, there was a small kingdom renowned for the extraordinary roundness of its ruling dynasty's members. King Thomas XII sat on a specially enlarged throne, once again tailored for the massive sovereign that his father had been. However, he lacked about thirty kilograms to fully occupy the seat, unlike his predecessor, whose posterior had slightly overflowed on each side.

It must be said that Thomas indulged more in another area, one that gave royal lineages the very essence of their existence. It was in procreation that he exceeded boundaries, almost always inadvertently, and not always in the wombs from which legitimate heirs would emerge. In the fattened entrails of the opulent and fertile Virginia (the wrongly named), nine children were born, seven of whom were still alive after the deaths of the first two boys; the eldest from dysentery and the second after a fall from the ramparts. Robert passed away with a regretfully slender waist after days passed emptying himself. Martin was carried away by his weight toward his violent end, after fully leaning on an apparently cracked guardrail. Hence, there was terrible concern when Prince Philip, the blessed third-born, gradually lost his royal proportions during a long illness of his own.

From his very first moments, Philip captivated his parents, the entire palace, the royal city, and soon the entire kingdom, with the presence of the little appendage adorning his groin. In his first hour, he reassured the assembly by greedily sucking the queen's plump breast. She herself ate without restraint as the third of her precious little angels had grown inside her. According to tradition, a butter-rich diet for pregnant women ensured that after gestation, they would have "a beautiful, round baby and some rich milk to feed him". The superiority of royal waistlines added a touch of glory to their power, as if the gods (including Pigrond, the god of feasting) leaned over their cradle to swell future kings with healthy fat as a sign of their superiority. On the other hand, and quite conveniently, it was especially difficult for common children to eat to the point of seeing their bellies grow before their wisdom teeth. A few lucky ones had this divine disposition to round themselves a little while eating the same bread and potatoes as others, with always so little meat and even less delicious sweets to swallow. These plump ones often became successful adults, as if their quality were marked in the fat of their bellies.As a spoiled royal baby, pampered by nature as well as by his environment, little Philip had more rolls on his limbs than the fattest of commoners had on their tender sides, and this was evident by the end of his first year.

Spoiled like all princes, fed every hour according to his whim, celebrated for his appetite with every bite, his steps spared by bearers surrounding his palanquin, Philip never lost during his entire childhood the chubby face from which his first cry had sprung and into which the first sip of milk had been introduced. Until his illness, the roundness of his features had only grown. His round face with its pale complexion was flushed with a rosy hue at the slightest exertion. His beautiful light blue eyes sparkled under his blond hair. And beneath his double chin, the swellings of his white skin flourished, delicately pockmarked with thousands of dimples revealing that fat reigned over his muscles. His chubby arms wrinkled at the biceps, pushing forward a chest worthy of a maiden, but whose nipples remained inverted for a long time, despite the dilated areolas tinted with in a deeper shade of pink. Below, his belly unfolded in two parts, first with rolls concealing the ribs, the upper edges of which merged into a hill of fat on which the breasts rested like clouds. The lower edges of his costal rolls disappeared into the central mass, not without tracing a soft sphere of pudge at the top of this mountain of fat, which below the navel finally spread its full extent. Beyond a fold that was always warm, where his belt slipped, the bottom of his belly described two symmetrical undulations, each rising toward the beautiful love handle to which it seemed anchored. All the extra soft flesh hanging from the front of his torso gave his back an inevitable breadth, as well as hollows and folds, striped in its thickness, which over time almost no movement made disappear. Even the slightest step tended to make the royal jelly stir from its enormous behind. A good spanking, never given though often deserved, would have sunk deeply into that soft flesh which over time demanded more and more of a peculiar attention.

What made him a little prince was buried in the fat falling from above and pushing from side to side. The little sausage barely emerged from the delicate skin of his beautiful hams. Even when everything became adorned with the future genitor's fleece, and had grown to adult dimensions (although rather small), the prince had to show flexibility to give his body the satisfaction his mind sought in his imagination. If everything in him had grown, starting with the desire to see another person naked, his obesity had expanded at the same rate as his favorite member. Even when shaving access to this good stick, if not blond and hairy, he found it increasingly difficult to find the way to his solitary pleasures alone. His ardent desire, compounded by his conviction that one day he would be king following the regrettable deaths of his two older siblings, led him one morning to the office of Sir Herald, the chief physician of the royal household. He wanted to discuss this rare discomfort due to his corpulence. Philip did not yet know that by passing through the door of the balding man, he was putting both feet, his belly, and his member (momentarily shrunken by shame) into the wolf’s den, a wolf that had been waiting for its moment for years.