Chapter 1

You moan, squirming in discomfort on your bed; the bed frame creaks worryingly under your weight. Your belly throbs and aches, gurgling angrily as it tries to digest the enormous meal of greasy, fatty foods you'd just binged publicly on. You keen, hands rubbing the bloat of your gut, sinking into a layer of soft fat before meeting tight resistance. It rumbles and burbles ominously, fighting against the feast you had forced down. You burp loudly in response.

The tight jeans you’d squeezed yourself into are digging into your fat gut, several sizes too small. If they were tight before, they are a second skin now. You can hear the waistband creak warningly around your massively bloated belly, rumbling and swelling as the junk food sloshes around inside.

After a while of not seeing your friends, you finally found time to spend with them again. and, well… you may have gorged yourself on the junk food that was laid out for everyone.

With closed eyes, you hum nauseously as you hold the sides of your sensitive belly. You can feel it, all that food churning inside you, making you expand, slowly melting into thick, wobbling blubber. God, why did you eat so much? You're going to get so fat. How many calories were in your meal? How much weight will you gain? You shake your belly and dislodge a burp. The skin of your tummy is vibrating with the intensity of the cramps and noises it is making. It sloshes with every jiggle that ripples through it, constantly shifting and wobbling.

“My tummy hurts so much, ngh…”

Brown eyes cloudy with need, you look down at your gut, unable to see over the massively bloated crest of it. It’s thick and swollen, skin blushing and stretched thin, feverishly hot to the touch.

Your shirt has ridden up, resting above your belly button where your jeans cut into your softened flesh deeply, making the skin red. Your blubbery muffin top is perfectly visible, seemingly wobbling with every deep rumble; plump love handles squishing into the thin denim ridiculously.

You shift, feel your plump thighs rub together, creating a shameful warmth between your legs, right under your engorged tummy and swollen fatpad. As you whine, you become increasingly aware of your ass straining the seams of your pants, asscrack visible.

Biting your lip, Nicholas blushes and slaps the top of your sore gut, watching as it jiggles. It’s as tight as a drum, no room left. God, are you full. You look ridiculous, a fat hog unable to control yourself, so lost in your insatiable hunger, the craving to overindulge; your want for more, more, more. And look where that got you; stranded on your bed, vulnerable under the weight of your grossly fattened gut. Nicholas burps unattractively as your stomach lets out a sickeningly wet squelch, feeling the zipper and button of your jeans constrict further.

All your friends were there when you binged, when you pigged out on food that would wreck even the thinnest of waistlines. They jeered and judged you, snidely watching this shameful fat*ss stuff himself senseless. And after, when you were a moaning, bloated blob, an embarrassingly desperate fatty with a noisy gut, the teasing continued. God, it was mortifying.

“You used to be so bitchy.”

“We thought you didn't want to hang out with us!”

“What happened to your body?”

“Yeah! you used to be so skinny!”

"Haha, holy shit. this is hilarious!"

"Wow, you blew up like a balloon, dude."

Round cheeks go red and warm, your multitude of chins squishing as you try to look down. You remember gorging yourself on the fattening, greasy and sugary foods that were laid out. You just couldn’t control yourself, you had to eat. One bite led to two, two had suddenly led to plates worth of oil-soaked and sugar-filled junk. Which soon led to guzzling cups of calorie-dense drinks. Before you knew it, you were stuck in your chair, belly engorged and roaring angrily, protesting all the calories being poured into it so quickly. At that point, all you could do was eat, eat, eat.

Everyone was looking at you in disgusted awe, watching your stomach bloat outward with each morsel of food you scarfed down. You distinctly remember someone saying, “I think you’ve had enough, Nick... you’ve... kind of gained a lot of weight... and this will only make you fatter.” You had denied it while shoving more food in your face, clothes tightening against your overfed body, stomach and intestines disagreeing loudly.

You remember how near the end of your binge, everyone watched in sick fascination as this fat hog kept gorging, stuffing yourself full of food despite looking like you might burst. They were watching as you gave into your sinfully hedonistic desires, seeing the consequences of every bite and gulp; becoming rounder, fuller, bloating into a disgustingly obese, overindulgent fat*ss.

As you laid back, groaning and rubbing your engorged gut, they laughed at you, pointing fingers and forcing you to guzzle more down, making you even bigger.

You remember them laughing at the repulsive gurgles your burgeoning belly made with every bite, at the way your clothes were obviously too tight. Your constant burping and farting was another laughing point. All the food and drink had left you a gassy mess. They smacked your gut and shook it, laughing in mockery at you as the oversized mound of fat wobbled comically. You shudder as the words ring in your bleary mind.

“How the mighty have fallen! You've really let yourself go."

"Ohh, your belly's mad. You hear that, guys?"

"Desperate fatty, you look like you need more."

"He's gonna explode out of those clothes!"

"The extra weight’s made you nicer... I like you better fat!"

That had earned some joyful, humorous cheers and a renewed effort to fatten you up even more. You hadn't fought back, didn't see a need to. In fact, halfway through, you felt a carnal, tantalizing warmth spread through you.

Whimpering breathily, you roll over onto your side, hand rubbing the side of your distended middle. It bounces as the swollen mass hits your bed with a thud, groaning loudly, the contents sloshing and squelching around as it tries to digest all the pounds of thick, calorific food and drink jammed into it. All the movement dislodges a deep, watery belch, a little moan following after.

You slap the side of your plush potbelly, eyes angry at your own lack of self-control. God, why did you eat so much? You just can’t control yourself. It’s so easy to indulge and give in to your deepest desires… desires you refuse to acknowledge are coming to life. You can’t be into this, right? You rub deftly at the side of your hugely bloated gut. It's sore at the top and sides, pulled painfully tight from the weight of the unhealthy foods and drinks you'd gorged yourself on. The fat roll that connects your back to the side of your paunch has been stretched to its capacity, seemingly no longer in sight. The only “roll” to be seen is your unflattering muffin top.

Maybe they were right, maybe you are nothing more than a fat glutton...

You let out a heady whine, wobbling onto your back again, clutching at your unhappy tummy; it churns, forcing out a long, deep belch. You whimper and pants open-mouthed as your belly begins to bloat and swell with gas, pent up from indigestion. You burp over and over to help alleviate the pressure, but it seems endless. You let out a long fart like the slob you're becoming, the slob you are. But still, your gut is tight. The button on your jeans feels like it’s about to pop... and so does your belly. It’s confusingly erotic, feeling yourself get fatter with every humiliating gurgle. You can barely breathe, all the pressure in your gut weighing you down, the headiness of the moment making you pant like you're in heat.

A quiet creak of worn-down wood echoes in your ears, most likely the bed, it’s been making those noises often when you're around. Floors creak under your thundering steps and furniture groans under your weight. The little bungalow is probably older than you and your long-term boyfriends, Jace and Nick, had thought.

God, imagine if the twins saw you like this. Stranded on their bed, back arching toward your bloated, aching belly; face scrunched up in agony…. or is it pleasure you're feeling? The pleasure from fulfilling a deep, hedonistic desire to just let yourself go, gorge on all the food your sensitive, soft belly can handle. To become the spoiled, fattened little piggy you're always been meant to be.

Writhing and moaning, you lavish in the sweet lust. Tears begin to bead in your eyes as little whimpers and burps escape rosy lips, tongue peaking out lewdly. Your swollen belly is gurgling and sloshing non-stop, pants moments from snapping off. You let out a burst of gas. God, how embarrassing it would be for you to be seen like this-

“Hey!”

“You okay?”

Fuck.

It’s Jace and Nick.

Deeply blushing, you squeak and try to sit up, rocking from side to side, bed creaking and fat jiggling. You get halfway up before yelping as your belly cramps and gurgles. You let out a loud and sickeningly wet burp and fall on your back in a pathetic heap, fat bouncing and rippling around you like a wave of softness. Your tummy wobbles most, burgeoning with fat and endless calories, settling on top of you in a blubbery heap.

You're literally too fat to get up, oh, God.

Mind racing, Nicholas pushes a hand down over the center of your inflated midsection while attempting to pull your shirt down, gasping and pulling away when the slight pressure causes a sharp ache and a wave of even more angry gurgles, stomach clamping desperately onto the food bubbling inside. You feel yourself swell further from the wobbling movement, taut skin turning even hotter with pressure. You try to fart out some of the pressure, but at the rate you're bloating, it barely makes any headway. You're blowing up like a balloon and your boyfriends are watching. Seeing you get fatter.

“Please!” You cry as your saggy arms flail. Your stuffed belly twinges with pain as it loudly tries to digest and keep everything from coming back up. You feel your skin stretch and creak with pressure, your gut bubbling as indigestion causes it to bloat and swell into a painfully distended, obscenely large mound. And even worse? You can’t stop burping and fucking farting.

The twins are watching like hawks, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Nick seems upset, but you always do when he’s… turned on. And Jace looks worried, but also somehow aroused.

”Don’t look!” You wail over the monstrous sounds your gut is making, fervently rubbing at the fattened flesh of your underbelly, fingers digging into the softness, desperately trying to quell the embarrassing noises. You lick your lips, fluffy, dark hair sticking to your forehead as you find your fattened body overtaken with a breathtaking heat. Your quivering belly settles finally after, of fucking course, it rumbles monstrously and forces out a grossly loud belch, relieving some of the agonizing pressure.

Gripping your engorged gut on either side, Nicholas smacks and shakes it angrily, pleading, “fuck, stop it!” To which you receive an endless cacophony of embarrassing digestive noises. Thus, you sob in utter humiliation, closing your eyes as you pass gas, long and high. You listen to Jace and Nick come closer, desperately rubbing your belly. You're hot all over, your body buzzing in anticipation.

“God! It’s… you’re huge! What happened?” Jace speaks disbelievingly, striding over to your blubbery, soft body.

Another voice follows, Nick. “What did you do, Nicholas?” Nick steps to the opposite side of Jace, leading to the twins surrounding your beached body.

Moaning, you slowly open your wet eyes, chubby hands still massaging sensitive, plump flesh. You can only imagine how you look, a fat hog trapped under the weight of your own gluttony. Only able to satisfy the needs of your gut; stuffing yourself silly until your belly literally has to burble sickeningly at you to stop… and even then, you laze around in too-small clothes on a creaking bed, aching and bloated, waiting for all those calories to melt into thick, gelatinous fat. Your belly churns forcefully and you have to swallow back a loud gag.

“Sweetheart?”

Gentle, cold hands are placed on your feverish skin. You shudder at the contrast, eyebrows furrowing further as you moan in surprise. Twin laughs echo in the room. It makes you look up into their vibrant eyes. With a gentle pat on your belly, you are reminded that, oh, they asked you what had happened.

“I…I think I ate too much,” you moan, wiping your eyes on a pudgy hand. You place it beside your boyfriends’, looking up at them both. Their strong, commanding forms contrast wonderfully with your plump flesh.

This shouldn’t be as erotic as it is.

The twins share a look filled with intent. Nick looms over your prone form, moving his hand slowly, fingers pressing meanly over the bloated flesh. Jace’s leaner but no less strong form leers at you, hand teasing over your dome of a gut. Your belly rumbles at the tickling and deep caresses before quieting a little. You sigh at the temporary relief.

However, after a good look at the two, you quickly become hyper-aware of how horribly mortifying this situation is. You feel massive, starfished on the bed, your bloated, aching gut vulnerable and sensitive. You imagine yourself as some spoiled and overfed prey, looking into the jaws of agile, deadly predators waiting to strike. And judging by the mischievous glints in their eyes, they seem to be running through a similar trail of thought. You are truly defenseless, immobilized by your vast expanse of jiggly fat.

“You think you ate too much? Or you did and don’t want to admit it?” Jace presses, raising a delicate brow. He charmingly pushes his bright blond hair out of his eyes as he firmly settles his hands on your belly; his nails and fingers pressing into the squishy bloat.

Whimpering breathily, you arch into his hand, I… I don't know. I-“ You're interrupted by a long, sickly burp followed by Nick’s intimidating laughter. You blush profusely, looking down at the burgeoning mound of fat taking up your entire middle. A moment later you fart and the twins laugh. They’re working hard to get the gas out and it’s fucking mortifying. With a deep belch, he brings your hands to the sides of your gut, massaging where the skin is cramped and thin.

“I spent some time with some of the guys and…” You bite your lip as a sharp ache radiates from the center of your rotund belly. “Oh, fuck! That hurts.” You watch through half-lidded eyes as Nick gracefully scoots around your ample body, barely creating a dent in the mattress. He settles on his knees beside you, thin hands tickling the quaking fat of your gut.

“And?” Nick places his hands on yours, stopping their furious kneading. An angry rumble echoes through the room, causing you to shift and whimper in embarrassment. You need belly rubs so badly right now. Your belly is swollen and aching, growling furiously; it’s clearly not happy with the lack of attention it’s now getting.

“Blondie, please-“

“Come on, tell us what happened, or we won't be able to help you,” is Jace’s quick reply.

You huff needily, looking away. The gurgling has increased in volume, making your belly vibrate. It sounds sickly and wet, clearly struggling with how overfull it is. You swallow thickly at a burp trying to come up, making your tummy cramp up and bloat that much more. You keen as you explain, “I-I went to spend time with some of the guys and-“ you hiccup at another intense groan from your belly before continuing. “There was a lot of food and so I… said I would only have a little, but then…” You shudder as shame washes over you, warming your body.

Gurgling nauseously, your gut quivers restlessly, causing you to attempt to massage it again. But Nick just tightens his grip. Jace catches your eyes, head tilting innocently. You can feel your belly churn and groan under your chubby palms as it attempts to digest the greasy and sugary junk you pigged out on.

“And then? What could have possibly happened after?”

Eyes pleading with the twins, you sigh when all you get in return are matching grins. You whimper as you continue the shameful retelling of your impromptu stuffing, “I ate a bit and I tried to control myself; honestly, I did!” Jace nods in faux empathy, eyes glimmering. Nick then puts pressure on you and your joint hands, pushing deeply into your rounded gut. You shudder, blushing hotly as you say, “but after a couple of bites… I couldn't help myself, couldn’t stop. I was so hungry and it tasted so good! I just needed to have more!” Your tummy rumbles as if reliving the subsequent gorging that followed.

“And so I ate, and I ate, and I ate… God, I just... I couldn't control myself, I had to keep eating!” You shake your head at the memory, licking your lips, recalling the feeling of pure gluttony and wanton need that had rushed over you. “It tasted so good, felt so good…” You remember the junk food, dripping with grease, the drinks saturated in sugar; waiting to fatten you up.

Lost in the inebriation brought on by hedonism, you continue lustily, “I could feel myself get fuller, my belly getting bigger and bigger… stuffed full of fattening foods that would just make me fatter and fatter.” You lick your lips and take in a shuddering breath, looking at your bulbous gut, “I lost all control and made a complete pig of myself.” Your stomach lets out a loud, sickly groan, as if agreeing. You mewl needily, thick thighs rubbing together as you listen to your stuffed belly bubble noxiously.

“And then the guys, they... they started to feed me.” Biting your bottom lip, you look up through your thick lashes at the twins, eyes flitting between them. “They force-fed me the rest of the food. There was still so much left. They watched as I ate and laughed and made fun of how fat I looked, even though I'm not that big!” You feel the need to defend yourself, to deny just what your endless binging has done to your waistline. In the back of your mind, you know you're not fooling anybody, not even yourself. Especially not your boyfriends.

“Wow, just how many calories are packed away in this big gut of yours?” Jace laughs, bouncing your gut in his slender hands.

You look up just in time to see Nick lift and harshly smack their hands on the sides of your bloated midsection, roughly jiggling the fat and fatty contents rumbling inside. You feel helpless and can only manage a surprised gasp of masochistic pleasure, spreading your legs to accommodate your wide girth.

“I honestly don’t know how many calories we forced in me, more than I should have had. It was so embarrassing!” Your hands dig into the dome of your burbling belly, making a gentle imprint in your fat before meeting bloated resistance from your stretched insides. Jace’s brows are furrowed, his pupils dilated as he fiercely urges you on. Nick is looking much the same, eyes intense and expression sharp.

“They laughed at how fat I was getting, how big my belly was bloating! It kept gurgling and making me burp and… and fart as I ate, like it was trying to stop me from stuffing myself, it was so loud and embarrassing!” Your voice has taken on a reedy, whiny tone, warm cheeks a deep red as you relive the most humiliatingly erotic thing you've ever experienced.

Nick looks wickedly pleased with this, wolfishly grinning as he says, “you’re telling us,” he gives your pudgy wrists a warning grip, “that all your friends watched you make a complete pig of yourself.” He quickly maneuvers himself behind your head. You continue, “Watched you bloat up and stuff yourself…” You keep your hands where they are, listening to Nick’s silent command. “And helped make you fatter?”