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by 0001
Rated: 18+ · Other · Erotica · #1781283
A simple weight gain story about a magical restaurant with an enchanted advert.
The strangest feeling had come over her. It was that odd advert in the magazine, she knew it. The advert was for a restaurant, "the Happy Chef", but all it had shown was a black page with white lettering. It said 'Feeling Hungry', which was obviously a typo because it should have a question mark. But she really was feeling hungry, now that she thought about it. She was absolutely starving. She looked through the take-out menu as her hand seemed to wander to the phone of its own accord...

...She'd finished. How she had managed to eat so much was a mystery. It seemed physically impossible. She stroked her taut stomach, amazed at how distended it was and how painless it felt. It was like she'd just hidden a bowling ball in her shirt. She imagined for moment that she could feel her belly shrinking, getting a little softer but smaller, as the rest of her got slight bigger and similarly soft. But she shrugged that off. She'd always been a little plump. That wasn't unusual. And why would her stomach feel distended when she hadn't eaten all day? That reminded her; she was really hungry. She reached for the menu and the phone...

...Wow, she thought. That was a large meal, even by her standards. How had she eaten so much? She looked like she'd swallowed a basketball. She smiled as her shirt popped and a button flew off, landing in a vase of water. She didn't really know why she was trying to fit into such a small shirt. Her chubby body hadn't fit in this thing properly for years. She could feel her jiggly arms starting to split the seams of her sleeves. She patted her soft belly, wondering if she could get the rest of the buttons to shoot off. Then she realised, she hadn't eaten yet today. Maybe if she stuffed herself, her belly would be big enough to burst that shirt...

...Boy, she thought, she must have eaten more than ever. Her poor, stretched shirt had shot buttons like bullets from a gun. The middle button had held out longest, pulled by both her big, jelly-like boobs and her taut, swollen stomach. It had been under so much pressure that, when it launched off, it had buried itself right in the door. Her belly looked like she must have decided to swallow a medicine ball. It swayed when she stood up or sat down. No, wait, it was more like jiggling. Yeah, it was definitely jiggling, along with the rest of her bulk. Her thighs were so covered in fat that they forced out her legs, making her waddle when she moved. She'd started having to waddle when she walked last year and it still turned her on. It was almost as arousing as stuffing herself. That reminded her. She needed something to eat...

...She belched with amazement. She was so stuffed. She looked like she had swallowed a bean bag or something. Her belly was always big, in proportion with the rest of her huge body, but now it was so full of food, it was huge! She'd hit two hundred and fifty pounds about five years ago, but she had never been much of a numbers girl. All she knew was that she loved her size and her softness. She loved outgrowing clothes, eating so much, feeling so fat and then getting even fatter. She found it arousing to think of how big she was going to get. She reached for the phone and looked around for something to order from...

...She was finally sated. She grabbed her big, full, belly and swished it a little. It was beginning to look like she might need a new couch. This one was too small for her. She had a sort of muffin top, where her fat belly bunched up and rolled over the sides of her couch. Her medicine ball breasts were balanced on top, held by a bra that looked skimpy on her now, but it would be enough material for a shirt for a smaller girl. Her breasts felt sort of nice, pressed up against her enormous second chin like sitting her face on a cushion on top of pillows on top of her soft belly. To be quite honest, when she been a skinny lass of only two hundred pounds, she felt sure that she'd never reach one thousand pounds, let alone that she would still be able to waddle around if she ever did reach that lofty goal. And yet, waddle she did, as she jiggled her way over to the phone to order lunch...
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1781283-The-Happy-Chef-Take-Out