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Rated: E · Novella · Erotica · #2132906
collecting the short stories from the third installment of the Mix and Match series


You know what they say; if you want to know a person, look at their parents.
The thing is, these girls don't often let their moms get the attention they deserve!

To remedy that, we're going to let them both star in their own round of Mix and Match!
These pairs are everything from butting heads to the picture perfect mother-daughter bond, so buckle up kids!

How about a story starring...

- - -

Joan Hammond and her pride and joy, Hannah...where efforts in "good parenting" go too far, with questionable results on everyone's wits... and waistlines!


“Sweetie, far be it from me to say it, buuut...” Joan winced, folding her hands together into a neat little arrow, “I think that it maaaay be best if you cut back on treating your employees so much. Juuuuust a smidge.”

“What? Noooo!” Hannah psshaw’d dismissively, “After all, daddy taught me that a happy employee was a hard working employee. Look at everyone! Aren’t they working so hard?”

Working hard to walk maybe.

The Daven’s Port branch of the Hammond Hotel chain was one of the first ones to be built. Her husband, Norman, had gotten his hands on rich soil when he helped invest in the Port. The two of them had spent a lot of time here! Joan used to answer the phones while Tina went on maternity leave (Longest. Two months. Ever.) This hotel in particular was very important to Norman, and to her! The people here were almost like family. Which was why it was so important that Hannah take such good care of it.

And she had! Though, perhaps...

Well, it was so strange. Seeing folks after just a few years, having all gotten so... fat. Seeing Rebecca’s smiling face doubling at the chin behind the counter should have been a forewarning of what was to come. Even when she spied Esmeralda the housekeeper toddle through the double doors, her starchy blue uniform making her look like a big Mexican balloon, Joan thought it was no big deal. People change, right?

But when every bellhop had a belly down to their knees and every maid couldn’t reach down to touch her toes, Joan knew something had to be amiss. That candy counter girl couldn’t have weighed anything less than three hundred pounds! And oh Tina, poor Tina. That woman that she’d covered for a few years ago was nearly unrecognizable behind all that flab! What had Hannah done to this place?

“Hannah, sweetheart, don’t you think everyone around here is getting a bit...” Joan cleared her throat and lowered her voice, “Hefty?”

“Wow, oh-kay.” Hannah arched her eyebrows dismissively, “Rude much? You just pointed out like sixty different people’s weights I mean, c’mon. Tina’s was bad enough - you know she had a baby, right?”

“Yes... three years ago.” Joan said sternly, “It’s just... your father and I wanted to let you be your own woman Hannah and so far you’ve done a wonderful job managing this hotel but this... this can’t be healthy.”

“Are you implying that I somehow had a hand in all of this?” Hannah laughed nervously while her mother ran the faucet in the employee lounge, “Like I... drugged the water or something? Oh mom you’re a riot!”

“Well no, Hannah, I didn’t - “

“Good, don’t drink that.” Hannah said, quickly slapping the Dixie cup out of her mom’s well-manicured hands, “C’mon, mom, let me, uh... show you the books! We’re all booked up through the Summer season. Must be that fresh air we’re pumping in...”


Kritsana Boonliang-Spencer and her "little" girl, Arisa...where she decides to start "living for herself", and starts letting herself go a little, a little more... then a lot!


Ironically, this all started because of one innocuous statement:

“You work too hard.” the then-sixteen Arisa Spencer said with a tight frown between her chubby brown cheeks, “You’re always on the phone, and... and when I’m home for breaks you’re never around and... and...”

Of course the confrontation had ended in tears. Poor Arisa was so tender hearted, even this little confrontation was enough to drive her up the wall. She was placated, bought plenty of nice Christmas presents, and sent back to school; but there was a nagging, unshakable sense of truth behind Arisa’s simple observation.

From there, Kritsana found herself with the oddest sensation. Something that, as a woman of wealth and some surmountable power, she wasn’t used to—a craving.

“Margaret, run down to the bakery and pick me up something sweet, will you?” Kritsana said, running her pink tongue over her soft brown lips, “It’s past the holidays. I think I deserve to live a little... don’t you?”

Of course she did! She was paid to! Which is why Kritsana’s assistant was so happy to know that her boss was pleased with the profiteroles that she had picked up on a whim.

“Mm! These are so yummy, Margaret!” The Thai business tycoon smacked her lips in appreciation, “I think that we may have to make this a once a week thing.”

“O-Of course, Mrs. Boonliang-Spencer!” the mousy little blonde said with a polite little clap, “Y-You definitely deserve it, after all!”

Kritsana paused, dabbed at her lips with a napkin, and leaned back in her office chair... she did work awfully hard, didn’t she?

So hard that she could perhaps afford two trips from the bakery perhaps? And why not three? In fact, why settle for a few isolated events throughout the week when she could just have one every day? Surely Margaret wouldn’t mind. Oh everything from that little store just tasted so sweet—she would have to get the recipe for her private chefs at home...

Speaking of home, Kritsana contemplated one day much later as she cupped the roundness of her face with her cupcake-free hand, why shouldn’t she help herself to thirds once in a while? She was a hard working woman who definitely deserved to treat herself and more—so, so much more...

And more...

And MORE...

How could she have been so stupid for so long, Kritsana smirked behind a mask of frosting as she pushed slice after slice of rich chocolate cake into her mouth, not realizing the true value of herself and how hard she worked? Of course it took her daughter—such a smart, smart girl her Arisa was—to realize just how much she was denying herself!

Kritsana Boonliang-Spencer would settle for less no longer!

She worked hard! She deserved the best! She deserved it all! She deserved, increasingly and desperately as her newfound philosophy began to take hold—


—a series of reinforced office chairs, each sturdier than the last...

“Oh mommy, this is the best Christmas ever!” Arisa cooed as she held the purple blazer close, nestling it into her belly as her hamhock arms compressed it tight between her oceanous brown bosom, “Oh it looks just like the one you love so much! We can be twinsies!”

“Yes...” Kritsana’s swaddled, husky voice purred as she cupped her chins contemplatively with one hand, palming a half-eaten fruitcake with the other, “...I had Margaret raid uh, the clothing store for sizes that didn’t exactly fit me... b-because I was shopping for you! So, um... Merry Christmas, sweetie!”


Hera Porter and her trouble child, Cerys...where things get topsy-turvy because, somehow, she swaps lives with her daughter and wakesup in a whole new world!


Something had told Hera Porter that touching that ancient Incan wishing bowl had been a bad idea. Not because she was an overly superstitious woman or anything, but because she tended not to trust housewares that couldn’t hold a full bowl of cereal anyway. Call it a hunch, but her gut feelings had never steered her wrong before. She was right about that time she didn’t eat from that little bowl with the shrimp in it that one time—the whole house had gotten food poisoning, but did she? No siree.

Anyway, Hera had woken up that morning with Cerys’ words still ringing in her ears:

“I just wish you knew what it was like to be your daughter mom!” she had started screeching during Hera’s weekly Game of Thrones Takeout Extravaganza, ”I worry about you and I try so hard to diet so I don’t end up like you and... and... and you don’t make it any easier by being such a colossal fatass!”


Hera found herself fumbling in her bed with much more ease than before. Much easier than it had been in years, in fact...

“Yeah, yeah...” Hera smacked her lips, “M’comin Cer I’m coming...”

Hera practically jumped out of bed—boy she must have been feeling her Wheaties this morning!—and stumbled stupidly towards the kitchen without realizing that the extra four hundred or so pounds that had been weighing her down her entire life had simply vanished overnight! That she was no longer in her late thirties, tipping the scales at more than five hundred pounds. Or that she was suddenly a much younger, much lighter version of herself. Chalk it up to half-sleep, or perhaps she hadn’t had her morning chocolate milk yet. Either way, it took a little more than an easy trip to the kitchen to wake her up...

“Thank god.” came the voice of her daughter, “I do {i]not want to wait for your lazyass sister to get up. Please go get my grilled cheese out of the toaster oven? I just sat down.”

Hera’s brown eyes nearly bugged out of her head at the vision of her daughter before her. Well... it was Cerys but it... wasn’t. She was much older and far fatter. Her prominent features, like her slight upturned nose and her big brown eyes, her long legs and slender fingers, had been buried upon pounds upon pounds upon mounds of excess weight! Her daughter had become more than twice as old and three...{i]four times as heavy as she had been before in just a night!

“Holy fuck, Cerys?!” Hera swore, her jaw dropping as her hands slapped her upper thighs.

Her soft, but slender, upper thighs. Not her belly, not her side-rolls or her flanks. What was going on here?!

“Hey, don’t talk to your mother like that.” Cerys snorted back, raising her plate of eggs over her head and letting them slide into her open mouth. Her huge arms sunk underneath their own weight as they bubbled out from underneath her monster-sized Pink Floyd t-shirt, “People are gonna think you’re some kind of...URRP... reprobate or something. Anyway, move those chicken legs and grab me that grilled cheese, wouldja? I didn’t get to finish my Jon Snow/Danaerys scene last night because someone threw a hissyfit...”

- - -

- - -


Not every character gets their time to shine. Sometimes, some good folks get left out of the spotlight!

What about a few stories focusing on some "less than appreciated" members of everyone's favorite Alma Mater, Buttercombe Academy?

Let's have a story where...

- - -

Eri Flatterly...forms an unlikely friendship with a student whose their total opposite, for better or worse!


If you had told Eri Flatterly that she would be running around with Kenzie Kingsley about a month ago, she would have called you crazy. Or rather, a colorful Texan euphemism that amounted to more or less the same effect.

Kenzie was this skinny, scrawny little Yankee girl, white as could be and more spoiled than a gallon of milk left out in the sun. And Eri was tall, as big around as a barn, and as Asian as she was Southern. They shouldn’t have had anything in common! Despite the vast age difference between the two of them (Kenzie was what... fifteen? Sixteen tops?) they came from two completely different worlds!

So naturally when Eri got a look at her new TA, she was a little less than thrilled.

But that blonde mop of hair of hers hid a brain that worked in a different sort of way than Eri was used to. She knew chefs well, and she knew the spoiled sort of girls who waddled around the hallways. She knew “leaders” and followers... but she’d never met a girl, ‘specially one so young, who thought like she ought to be sitting behind a CEO desk. Eri had never even thought of branching out into a business of her own. Specialty dishes for room service deliveries. She’d never guessed that Polluck would have been okay with it either...

And just like that, Flatterly and Kingsley went from Teacher and Assistant to co-founders of a specialized room service!

“Room 118 needs more pizza!” Kenzie covered the phone with her delicate prissy paw, “And... oh, extra cheese, extra anchovy!”

“They need more pizza?” the big woman huffed, “How much pizza can those girls go through in a day?”

A lot, apparently. Since room service stopped delivering after seven, there were a lot of potential clients just sitting up there in their rooms just dying to have this meal or that. Whatever specialty snack that cafeteria had put away after it closed, or something whipped up extra special and just for them. Eri had started borrowing staff from her kitchen just to fill the demand, but even with that added extra cost the two of them were making a decent side-hustle out of all of this!

“Knock knock!” Kenzie’s tinny tones rang throughout the hallways as she knocked on room 118, permission granted by loyal customer Ms. Polluck herself, “Delivery Queen Room Service at your service!”

“Great.” Megan Mahoney’s chins rolled with her words as she extended one pillow of an arm and handed her the damp, sweaty money, “You don’t know how much of a lifesaver you guys are.”

Oh Kenzie knew. Girls all across the school were absolutely thrilled that they didn’t have to lift their chubby buns to get the sweet satisfaction of a super-rich, high-calorie Buttercombe Cafeteria snack. And Kenzie was thrilled that she had such an expansive, and growing, pool of chubby rich girls with disposable income to pull from...

What was it her daddy always told her?

“Do what you love, and the money will come!”

Ally Spades......Is given the responsibility of being Headmistress of Buttercombe Academy!


“You know, I really thought that this was going to be more fun.”

Ally Spades had been named the de-facto Headmistress of Buttercombe Academy through some long, convoluted string of events that she was either too drunk or too hungover to fully understand. It didn’t seem like the smart choice to name her as the new Polluck, even to her, but far be it from a pickled curmudgeon like her to turn down a pay grade and more free time.

At least, that’s what she had thought she’d be getting.

For such a tiny woman, Ally Spades took up enough space for four these days. Or perhaps five after a particularly heavy breakfast such as this one. It wasn’t entirely her fault—she was a good foot shorter than almost everyone on staff, so she looked all that much rounder. But since she couldn’t very well run the entire school alternating between plastered and Morning After (trust her, she’d tried) there wasn’t very well all to do except to take out her frustrations on her body in... other ways...

“No wonder Polluck got so fat.” Ally panted into her third after-breakfast power lunch, her chin wagging but her jowls so thick and meaty that they hardly wobbled, “And no wonder... rrgh... she had so many suits. All I have time to do around this stupid academy is stuff my face!”

In all honesty, that wasn’t true. Not entirely.

In struggling to perform a job she was vastly underequipped for, dealing with staff who seemed to grow more and more petulant and whiny by the day (not unlike those sniveling brats from when she was the school nurse!), and substitutingweaning herself off of alcohol with the very slight assistance of food, the truth of the matter became clear to anyone who cared to look—Ally Spades needed a coping mechanism. Sometimes it was liquor. Sometimes it was whiskey. And sometimes it was beer. But now that she had to be sober at pretty much all hours of the day, it had become clear that food had become a wonderful and successful substitute.

Ally’s hands rest on the vast circumference of her gut—a full foot between her fingers as she spread her arms as far around her self as she could reach. With a few pathetic leans inward, her belly bunching against the desk as her breathing turned haggard and strained, Ally finally managed to press the PAGE button on her little desktop intercom system.

“Candace?” Ally wheezed, “Get Eri Flatterly on the phone for me again? We need to discuss dinner plans.”


“Yes again.” Ally rolled her eyes, set deep in her fat face as her cheeks began to encroach upon her lids, “And send me up that representative from the baking club that Jen Walker started.”

“Yes ma’am.”


Ally settled back in her chair, comically undersized for such a short, round woman like herself. Here she was, becoming as round as a ball, while the Academy clicked and whirred like a machine before her. It practically managed itself—with the added necessity of her being sober to keep up appearances.

No wonder Polluck got so fat, Ally thought again to herself, a bit more bitterly this time, as she pat that giant swollen gut of hers.

Anyone would when all there was to do was eat...


Adeline Holloway...finds out she has a secret admirer! But who could it be? And... why?


“Oh come on. Don’t tell me you don’t know why.”

“I really, honestly, truly don’t know why.” Adeline said with the most bored look on her face, as if she were discussing the weather or the time of day, “But I’m sure you’ll be ready and willing to tell me all—”

“It’s the ass!” Rita Nelson exclaimed, “It has to be the ass.”

For the past few weeks, Adeline had been the recipient of several sweet little love notes and plenty of boxes of chocolates. They were always laid right there, on her desk, after her lunch period. Sometimes they were poems, sometimes they were letters, but almost all of them were ungodly amounts of sappy for the no-nonsense mistress of mathematics to stomach. The chocolates and, on one occasion, the cheesecake on the other hand were much easier to swallow and keep down.

“Well if they don’t come out and say something, I’m more likely to sit on them than I am to meet them.” Adeline said with a sip of her coffee. A self conscious squirm of her legs was lost beneath the sea of butt, thigh, and leg blubber that coated and consumed her, “I’ve put on ten pounds since this whole secret admirer business and I don’t intend on—”

Ten?” Rita cocked her blonde brow

“Fine. Fifteen.” Adeline rolled her eyes from behind her glasses, “Either way, I don’t intend on widening my doorways just so I can get to and from class.”

“I think it’s so sweet! Leaving you chocolates and cheesecakes and little love notes! You’re so lucky, Adeline!” Maria Espanosa, the younger of their informal trio, swooned dreamily, “If I had a secret admirer, I’d let them make me as fat as they wanted me.”

“What would be sweet is coming out and showing herself.” Adeline said, furrowing her red eyebrows discouragingly, “I’d like to not be diabetic by the time she showed her face.”

“What makes you think it’s a girl?” Rita asked inquisitively, her breasts pooling lusciously on the teacher’s lounge table

“We’re in an all-girl’s academy and the only teachers here are women.” Adeline answered matter-of-factly, “Statistically, it’s highly unlikely that there’s a man sneaking around every day long enough to bring me flowers.”

“He brought you flowers?!” Maria swooned, “That’s so sweet!”

She brought me flowers.” Adeline reaffirmed, “And... no, you’re missing the point!”

“So are you going to meet him?” Rita leaned forward, the table warping under the incredible strain of her breasts, “Her... whatever?”

“Ugh, why?” Addy snarled, “It’s not like it’d do any good. You know I don’t date.”

“You don’t date because no one likes you.”

“Well, one person likes you.”


And with that, Adeline Holloway hopped up. Sure enough, her legendary cheeks were enough to turn even straight women’s heads. Not because of any inherit quality but because they were just so... big! The rest of her was plump, yes, but below the waist... she may as well have been a different woman! And those extra “ten” pounds of hers had certainly been soaked up down below as well!

“Who do we know that’s a chubby chaser?” Maria asked after some contemplation

“Who do we know who isn’t a chubby chaser?” Rita snorted, “Drink your coffee, Mari.”

- - -

- - -


We all know why we're here, playing this game. We like women gaining weight!

And as we all know, the hows and whys can be the most important aspect of a story sometimes.

So this time, we're going to play things a little differently!

- - -

Aunt Rhonda...gains weight with...a family member!


The trouble with sisters, especially if your sisters are anything like Jan and Rhonda, is that everything becomes a competition.

And when Jan and Rhonda moved in together, this small aspect of their relationship suddenly became much more prominent and apparent. They had known each other their whole lives, but they hadn’t lived with one another since they were in high school. Neither could have possible anticipated the chaos that would ensue from one small gesture:

“I got us lunch!” Jan had said with a smile on her face as she walked into Rhonda’s (now their) apartment not long after she moved in, “You’ve been such a great little sister, I thought I’d treat you.”

“Aww! You shouldn’t have!” Rhonda said, kicking off her heels after a long day at work, “Now I’m going to have to do something nice!”

And she did! On the way home that next day, Rhonda stopped by Apple Dumplin’s and got the two of them a big box of bear claws to split. Jan hadn’t had bear claws in years! Not since she was just a chubby little teenager! So naturally, she had to do something nice in return. Pizza, ordered from Rhonda’s favorite pie shop! Then Jan mentioned that she hadn’t tasted Big Burger in years so Rhonda... you get the point.

“I insist!” Jan had said

“No, I insist!” Rhonda not long after

“Rhonda, it’s the least I could do.”

“Janny, doll, I implore you.”

Within the span of just a few months of living together, Jan and Rhonda had entered a quietly fierce competition to see who could be the least imposing and the most grateful that threatened to destroy decades of more-or-less healthy living.

With every box of donuts, every take out treat, every cake, and then every extra portion or every time one insist the other “take it easy”, it fluffed the two of them up just that much more. Extra pounds and inches found their way on either Burkhart’s body, and it (and they!) had grown to a point where either party agreed that enough was enough.

“Okay, I won’t do things for you, you won’t do things for me.” Aunt Rhonda said, a hand on her flabby hip while she munched on one of Jan’s bear claws, “Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Jan huffed morosely, a chubby hand tracing her bulging belly, “I need all the exercise I can get, and none of the temptation...”

It wasn’t long before their competitive nature entered another phase—one slightly more “productive” than before. They started competing over whom it would be to crack first! For days they went without anything sweet or savory, taking the long way to work and squeezing into their outfits just a little easier...

But the damage had been done!

“Just because I’m calling the pizza place doesn’t mean I cracked first.” Rhonda held her doughy digits over the phone, her paunch howling

“Absolutely not. It’s a draw.” Jan said while on the phone with the Chinese place. “...but I mean technically it does.”

“What was that?”



Piper Black...is being fattened by...her best friend!


This wasn’t that weird, right?

Like, no, definitely the watching her sleep part was weird. And getting weirder by the minute, the more Dakota thought about it. But then, how was she supposed to do this? It wasn’t like she could just shove some butter in her mouth when she was awake, could she? No, because that would be weird. Much weirder than waiting until she was asleep to do it.

Dakota bit her lower lip as she watched her soft, pillowy belly rise and fall with her gentle breathing. Piper’s half-snores were the only sound in the bedroom, the clock ticking away on her nightstand providing her with the perfect metronome. The way Piper was positioned on the pillow, her thick double chin swallowed her neck, making her look even larger from the shoulders up. Her thick arms spread out like wings in her queen-sized bed, pooling on the sheets like water-balloons. There was no doubt about it, Piper Black was getting fat—and Dakota Johnson was helping her get there.

It had started out so innocently. A little pinch here, a little rub there. Piper had already started to pork out once she started working at Big Burger. So what if Dakota had decided to ease her onto the chub train? She was going to wind up in Fattytown anyway.

She had been so encouraging, enabling and even outright supplying Piper with outlets to stuff herself. Inviting her over to dinner with her family, hanging out with her almost every day, paying for enough food to feed her Zack and Piper every chance she could just so she could see Piper stuff her cheeks with it. And she got fatter, and fatter, and fatter... soon just watching Piper blow up like a balloon wasn’t enough! Dakota wanted more...

“Mmm...” Piper moaned in her sleep, her doughy olive hands rubbing the rippling surface of her tummy, “More...”

“Oh, you like that?” Dakota asked her sleeping friend with a manic, sleep-deprived sort of look in her eyes as her panties began to dampen, “You like it when I rub your tummy?”

Piper smacked her full, pouty lips as another slice of butter went down her throat. Her breaths grew longer, heavier, and deeper as Dakota placed a trembling hand on the doughy mass of meat that was Piper’s prodigious paunch. She rubbed gently, starting at the curve of her lower-most roll, and traveling up towards the fold where her belly-button used to be.

“Yuh...yes...” Piper said in her sleep as Dakota slid her larger and larger slices, her fingers going kneading and pressing deeper into Piper’s pliable pudge, “More...

The sound of footsteps creaking up the Black Family hallway scared Dakota back to her corner of Piper’s bedroom, where she finished herself off quietly. Her friend woke up the next morning, frustrated and confused as to why she was both full, horny, and had the inescapable urge to enjoy how squishy her tummy was...


Jennifer Walker...fattens up...her nemesis!


“Call me unmotivated.”

“I’m not unmotivated—you’re unmotivated.”

“Talentless... no-necked... hack!

It was no secret that Eri Flatterly and Jennifer Walker didn’t like each other. The older, more experienced, and less flighty teacher at Buttercombe Academy had long made it known that she held some level of contempt for Jennifer Walker—a French teacher turned Culinary Arts professor once Ms. Flatterly’s rightful and well respected partner decided to pursue a career elsewhere. It was mostly benign, as Eri taught upper-level Culinary Arts and Jennifer taught the novices, but that was before Jennifer actually knew that there was bad blood between them.

Once some she-said she-said came back to Jen, all bets were off! The rookie teacher and novice baker had decided once and for all that she was done being Mrs. Nice Lady with that cow-towing, patronizing, southern-belle wannabe Eri. The kid gloves were off in the only way that Jennifer knew to really get at her “superior”—in the kitchen!

“Oh Jen, this is actually pretty good!”

Through the convenient excuse of trying to improve her cooking skills.

Every day since that fateful semester, Jen translated all the energy that would normally be reserved for laying around and doing nothing all day into formulating her revenge. Into showing Eri how good of a cook she could be once she tried! She took lessons with her tormentor every weekend.

“Mm! Very tasty.”

By showing her how good of a teacher she was by taking all those sweet, yummy dishes they cooked for her and letting Eri taste every single one of them! With every passing day, Jen grew more competent as an instructor and a chef, and that meant her students did as well!

Eri thought she was unmotivated? Eri thought she was lazy? Jen made sure that Eri could see with her own eyes how much work Jen was willing to put into her career, and Jen made sure that she could taste every last morsel she made! It was a lot of hard work, and it was a long con, but Jen finally managed to get an apology out of that arrogant Texan!

“I don’t know, Jenny-girl, these here dumplin’s don’t taste nearly as good as my own yet.” Eri smacked her lips greedily, her piggy eyes twinkling in hoggish delight, “Y’all better make me another batch so I can test ‘em summore...”

And one day finally, finally, someone seemed to notice Jen’s hard work.

“Good news, Ms. Walker!” Ms. Polluck had sat her down in her office one day long after their rivalry became two-sided, “I’m placing you as our new full-time Advanced Culinary Arts professor and our new head of the lunchlady coalition.”

“Yes!” Jen did a pump of her flabby arm, “What happened? Eri decided she couldn’t cut it?”

“Well, we’ve decided that we need a Head who doesn’t like to sample, if you catch my drift?” Ms. Polluck said with a wincing smile, “Due to her, erm... generous size, it’s become increasingly difficult for her to work in such small spaces. I must have warned Eri a million times about breaking that nasty habit of snacking on the job... but she did recommend you as her replacement so... here we are!”

Huh... well... it was still a win!

- - -

- - -


Consider this a spit-take round! These are some of the most outlandish ideas I've ever heard of...

Starring a hodge-podge of unsuspecting staff throughout Buttercombe Academy! Poor things!

Don't be surprised if things get ridiculous(ly huge) when...

- - -

Shannon Polluck...is chosen by the Cult of the Open Mouth as their new High Priestess!


Shannon had always known that she was destined for greatness.

It was such a shame that she hadn’t seen it at first—her true calling could have never been piddling away at that Academy. Family ties or not, her purpose was best served here among the Open Mouth. Devoting herself to He Whom Devours All and being worshipped as his bride to be.

“More.” Shannon commanded in a husky voice, vaguely waving a ball-like hand in the general direction of the feasting plate, “I want more.”

And more she got. More, more, more. All the time there was more. Not like at the Academy, where her gluttonous impulses were met with distrust and misplaced concern. Whom were they to question what she put into her body? She was their headmistress and, though unbeknownst to them, literally the most important woman on the planet. If she wanted more, then by Chu’ubroth, she would get it!

The best part had to be the fact that she never had to feed herself anymore. She had a legion of attendants and adjuants to do that kind of thing for her—so much more useful than that Candace Scott or even that Russian bear of a woman... what was her name?

Bah, no matter.

The litter beneath her began to stir as her many manservants—the strongest, most muscular of the bunch with which she often busied herself with when not sating her more obvious appetites. Each one groaned with the weight of her bountiful body, blessed by Chu’ubroth. There were three men on either side of her, strong and burly men, and she was beginning to crush them with her sheer weight alone. Her great gut had begun to lap off of the edge at her front, and her cheeks were beginning to fold over onto either side of her. Her glorious body was getting so large, and so fat... so fast! The wonders that Chu’ubroth offered were surely generous.

Her sisters could have the Academy, Shannon thought as she sat like a giant puddle on top of her platform, being carried around like rotund royalty. No one appreciated her there. No one treated her like the goddess that these people believed her to be. That they made her see herself as.

“You.” Shannon’s planetary ring of neck fat tremored slightly as her deep voice barked suddenly, “Front left. Caress me.”

Shannon’s beady blue eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head as her favorite vassal squeezed her fat front with one hand, dampening deep beneath her great globular gut. She began to salivate and her breathing became haggard.

“That’s it.” Shannon mooed, her head lolling from side to side as she was slowly placed down by her servants, “Mmmm...”

As their mistress became lost in her own urges, the front left slave began to mount her billowing belly as it found its footing on the floor. The other five began to work, massaging and kneading her vastness as Shannon’s small mind began to putter and spit. Three slender women in cultist uniforms worked to hand-feed their mistress while the men pleasured her.

Her sisters could keep the Academy, Shannon’s final coherent thought of the hour echoed in her brain as her arms dangled uselessly at her side, because she had finally found her calling in life.


Megan Porter...is cursed by a "witch or a gypsy or something, I don't know" to gain more and more weight with every passing day!


“And you’re sure you have no idea what you could have possibly said to him to tick him off so much?”

You would have thought that you’d had asked a toddler if she was sure that she hadn’t knocked over that vase. Or perhaps a dog if she were sure she hadn’t gotten into the trash while you were away. Because with the way those big bovine eyes looked at Ashley Knight, all brown and helpless but somehow indisputably guilty, the curmudgeon-y coach just knew that Megan knew more than she was letting on.

“No!” Megan said finally, so loudly and with such force that her fat cheeks rippled, “I mean... all I did was cut him off in traffic!”

For the past few months, Megan Porter had been getting fat. And no, not in the usual way that people tend to get fat around Buttercombe Academy. But “getting fat” as in “had already come to outweighing that fatass guidance counsellor” fat. Sure, in the two years she’d been teaching at Buttercombe Academy, everyone might have gotten a bit plump—though some definitely more so than others—but nothing like this. Megan was tipping the scales at almost four hundred pounds by October, but had only weighed two hundred in August. Something was making her blow up like a balloon, and only God knew what.

Though honestly, Jen Walker wasn’t helping much.

The two porcine porkers hadn’t stopped snacking since a few weeks ago. Since Jen was about as fat between the ears as she was in the ass, she hadn’t stopped to think that perhaps Megan shouldn’t be shoveling food down her fat craw. But Megan was an emotional eater, and in times of stress... what was a four hundred plus pound woman to do?

“Jen, come on, put those fucking chips away.” Ashley snapped at her fat (now second fattest) friend

“What?” Jen asked, shocked, “It’s not like not eating is going to make Megan skinny. We’ve already tried that.”

“Please don’t make me do that again...” Megan whimpered, sinking into her second chin, “That was awful...”

Ashley Knight held her fingers to the bridge of her nose. Honestly, she couldn’t tell what was more frustrating: the fact that Megan had seemingly been cursed, that magic was apparently real, or that her friends were too stupid to stop fucking eating when Megan was blowing up to the size of a goddamn house!

“Look, just...” Ashley sighed, “Tell me what happened? Again.

“Look, all I really know is that I cut the guy off in traffic!” Megan whined, her deceptively high voice squeaking out of her big round body like a helium balloon, “I was driving back to campus, I was running late, and... I may have yelled something at him...”


“And he just said...” here Megan’s face (set deep within the surrounding area of her cheeks and chins) furrowed, her blonde eyebrows scrunching and her lips and eyes narrowing in confusion, “Thicker.”


Courtney Farron...stumbles upon a time machine, and... things get fattening?


Look, don’t ask how she got it.

It’s not exactly the kind of thing that people like to talk about. Because time machines are really scary things when you think about it. You can just go back in time, willy-nilly and mess everything up by stepping on the wrong butterfly or something. It’s a ridiculously scary concept and, hey, most people don’t like to talk about it.

Courtney got this thing one day on a jog (Yes. She jogs. Shut up.) and she picked it up, slid it into her wrist, and the next thing that she knew Courtney was in 18th century France. Luckily she spoke a bit of French, so the two hours that she spent there weren’t too terribly awkward. The fact that she got home at all was a miracle.

So what did she do? Naturally, she wanted to show it to somebody. Coach Knight had disappeared some time ago (hey! Maybe this had something to do with it? Another reason to keep this little thing around!) and it wasn’t like she could trust any of her students. So she went to the one person she could trust—Ms. Mia Underwood.

“I’d be glad to help you out, sister!”

Mia was this huge woman, easily more than three hundred pounds. She was soft-spoken, a little flighty sure, but had a heart as big as... well, the rest of her. Courtney trusted her with her life.

So Courtney figures that she can show Mia that she’s not crazy and that the thing on her wrist is an actual, honest to God time machine. Mia grabs onto her hand, thinking that she’s humoring her delusional dwarfish friend, and then she opens her eyes and they’re both in Tudor London. Courtney raises her arms up high like “ha! I told you so!” when she accidentally sends herself forward into time, back to her home.

The thing is, this is where Time Travel gets kinda screwy.

Mia Underwood being trapped back in time led to her meeting Henry VIII. They would sire lots and lots of children and enable each others worst habits of indulgence and general gluttony. They sire a Queen “Moonchild” Elizabeth that weighs well over 500 pounds by the time she ascends to the throne, and...

Well, long story short...

“Hey! Farron!” came a familiar sounding voice as the ground quaked beneath her, “What do you think you’re doing out here? I need you in the cafeteria!”

To see everyone on campus, on her smartphone, on television weighing in at twice the average as when she left was hard enough. But to see Ashley Knight again, with an ass the size of Manhattan and jiggling and wobbling her way up to her, bumping her with that big belly of hers, it was downright shocking.

“Sister Polluck’s got us making sure the welcome feast for our new students is perfect!” Ashley commanded, “Now march your skinny ass back to the cafeteria right this second!”

She had to go back and get Mia. She had to go back and get Mia.

She had just gotten rid of this woman.

- - -


These are some of my favorite characters, for various reasons. I can only hope that you feel the same!

Because today we're going to be playing with unlikely combinations!

Here's to our final round starring...

- - -

Alice Carlyle & Parker Black


“Well I mean... yeah.” Zack said, dipping his french fry into his milkshake, “I mean... of course she’s hot. Not like, the kind of hot you are but like this out-of-reach, not-in-my-league, I should stop talking now, shouldn’t I?”

Ooh, Alice was mad! How could Zack think that that gutter-trash, bra-busting bimbo was hotter than her? What’s worse—not that he thought those things, because men were stupid and sometimes they thought really stupid things!—but that he said them! Out loud! To her!. As if he and that Piper chick being so buddy-buddy wasn’t bad enough, now he’s got a crush on her older sister? Oh this wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all...

“I’ve never seen this side of you before!” Piper squealed excitedly, “Like, normally you’re this goody-goody prep school girl. Dark Alice is fun Alice!”

“It’s not... I’m not...” Alice puffed, her chubby cheeks growing red, “Just... do you want to help me or not?!”

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Al...” Piper said with a slurp of her soda, “I’m definitely, one hundred percent in.”

And so, the strangest alliance was formed. Normally jealous of her relationship with Zack, Alice soon found herself quite fond of Piper’s company now that they had a common enemy to plot against. The chubby blonde and the busty Armenian bombshell made quite the team when it came to working to undercut Parker’s natural magnetism by adding a nice soft layer of fluff around the edges. Piper would bring home extra donuts, unset all of her alarms, and spread nasty rumors about her to all of her stupid party girl friends to keep her home and bored. Meanwhile Alice would carefully remove all of the elastic from all of her waistbands and stretch out as much of her clothing as was possible! With nothing to do and plenty to eat, without even clubbing to burn off at least some of the calories, it wasn’t long before Parker was plumping out of everything she owned!

Her soft brown belly pushed tightly against the drawstring-less waistband of her sweats, giant melons hunched over either side of it. With her long fingers, Parker scratched her bulging middle lazily, letting out a rich and satisfying belch. As she lumbered down the hall, her ripened cheeks bounced up and down beneath her old Senior Class sweatpants, with a good couple inches of ass crack creeping up behind her.

“Oh wooooow.” Alice said cattily to the room as soon as Parker was out of earshot, “Hey Zack, have you seen Parker lately? She’s really starting to let herself go, huh?”

“What?” Zack moved his leg to the side in hopes of disguising his chub, “Oh, I, uh... I didn’t notice.”

And with that Alice sunk back into her seat, her arms folded over her breasts as she mulled over her apparent defeat...


Devlin & Fukuda


“You know, Doc, I really have to hand it to you...” Devlin said with a few taps on her Projected Sin Graph, “You and your people have a real knack for helping people tap into their inner gluttons. You know that?”

Behind her glasses, Dr. Hinamizawa’s glassy hoggish eyes could only dart nervously from one arm to the other. The mechanical limbs of her Yeng Attendant fed her dutifully and in a set pattern. First the left one, then the right one. Then the left one, then the right. And so on, until she was full. But she was never full. Going even moments without the chemical extract that made Yeng food so delicious, so addictive was like holding her breath for too long. She felt weak, anxious. The new recipe she’d been testing... in a certain manner of speaking, yes she had been the one testing it... was exponentially more powerful than the last. She had bargained so much to get it. Coworkers, employees, stepping stones to get to the top. And now where was she?

At the top.

“Ooh, that sounded racist.” Devlin scrunched her face, still looking at her top subject’s charts, “I meant like you people as in Yeng not... not like, you people as in the Japanese. Woah. Messed up, Dev. Right?”

Everything had been going so wonderfully for her after she made that bargain. Competition disappearing, superiors taking their leave, even that DynaCorp fiasco that caused Yeng’s stock to shoot up in price. New breakthroughs with their additives and newfound success in consumer satisfaction and dependence. Everything had been going wonderfully until her lab accident.

When she became exactly what she’d asked for...

“Woof. Can’t have Yeng’s most valuable asset thinking I’m a racist, can we?” Devlin said with a wide, open-palmed pat on Fukuda’s fleshy front, a sweeping pet across her tonnage that rippled at the slight pressure, “Don’t tell the boss, okay?”

Even if the arms hadn’t started back up, even if her mouth wasn’t constantly being stuffed with delicious, mind-numbing, orgasmically tasty Yeng products, Fukuda wasn’t in any position to be believed anyway. As she reacted to Devlin’s touch, her useless arms fidgeting at her sides and trembling weakly in her attempts to meet at the center of her gut, she was already growing bored with the pursuit.

“Now now Doc, no need to get testy. I apologized.” Devlin said, looking up at the humongous head scientist, “I tell you what—a couple extra units sound good to you?”

Hnnngh...” Fukuda let out a deep throaty moan of abject pleasure, “Please...”

“Okay, but only because you said please.” Devlin said with a few taps on Fukuda’s personal Y-pad, shoving her inflated hand to the side, “And because you caught me in a potentially racist turn of phrase. Let’s just keep that between you and me, huh?”

Fukuda wouldn’t be telling a single soul.


Arisa Spencer & Hannah Hammond


From the moment that Hannah laid eyes upon her, she knew that Arisa Spencer was something special.

Perhaps it was because she weighed almost as much as some of the senior girls on campus. Right off the bat, even as a Freshman, the tubby Thai girl was teeming with tonnage. Nearly three hundred pounds at the age of sweet sixteen? She may as well have been made for a chubby-chasing heiress with far too much free time on her hands like Hannah. With her sociopathic tendencies and proven abilities to bring out only the greediest and the gorgiest in her special pet projects, Hannah was bound to make Arisa Spencer into the biggest name on campus!

“Oh, honey, are you lost?”

“I am!” she bawled, “I can’t find my room and my legs are so tired!”

“Well come on into Hannah’s room... hey! We’re roommates!” Hannah said with a quick phonecall down to the front desk to follow, “Imagine that!”

Being a Senior, and her a Freshman, meant that their time together was limited! Hannah had to do everything in her power to make sure that this enormous heiress ate as much as possible! Somehow she doubted that would be too terribly difficult, but she didn’t think it would be quite so easy...

“Hannah, I’m hungry.” Arisa said, rubbing her big brown ball of dough, “Can we order some more takeout?”

“Of course!” Hannah whipped out her phone, “Pizza or subs?”

They ordered both! Time and time again, Hannah kept the dorm room stocked with food, food, and more food! Arisa ate almost day and night, whenever her little heart desired! Which was quite often! Breakfast in the dorm, breakfast in the cafeteria, lunch, then a post-lunch snack before class, a couple of stops at the vending machine before staying til close in the cafeteria! Hannah kept Arisa surrounded by so much food, it was hard to keep track of what was going where!

“My uniform doesn’t fit.”

“Ugh! My blouse is too tight!”

“My belly’s soooo big!”

But as time went on and on, and things started to grow to a close, Hannah became much more desperate to ensure her favorite little fatty got all the attention she needed. Surrounding herself with pizza, ice cream, desserts, cakes and pies, running by the school bakery every day just to make sure that there was enough to go around...

“Hannah!” her mother called out with a confused look on her face on her last day of school, “I, um... I didn’t recognize you!”

Hannah’s chubby cheeks burned bright red as she trudged up the stairs in her cap and gown. She looked like a big yellow pear, with her big butt and this stupid yellow robe...

“Aww, don’t be sad Hannah!” Arisa said with a pat on her friend’s back, which made her love-handles wobble, “I was talking to my mom, and she said you could always spend a couple of days with us over the Summer! Won’t that be nice!”

“Yes.” Hannah griped, her double chin flexing, “Soooo. Nice.”

- - -

- - -


At the end of every game of Mix & Match, it's essential to move forward with the ideas you've created. I hosted a poll, and the voters selected these five as their favorites

- - -

By popular demand, we rejoin Kritsana Boonliang-Spencer… as she continues well into her “deserving” mentality!


Today was an auspicious occasion. While the day also marked the six month celebration of Arisa’s graduation from Rosewater University, it was going to be today that changed her life forever—not some silly cap and gown ceremony.

No, today was going to be incredible… for both of them.

“You’re… you’re giving me the company?”

The titanic thai heiress looked like an elephant spooked by a mouse. Her round cheeks quivered and her eyes watered. The poor thing was so sweet and tender hearted, not to mention so unversed in quick sudden changes, that she clearly hadn’t contemplated the day that her mother stepped down as the head of the Boonliang Corporation. Obviously it had always been a possibility and Arisa knew that she was the next in line, but… so soon! She had only just barely graduated college!

But Kritsana—her doting, over-compensating and all-encompassing mother, was sure that her demure daughter would be able to handle it. Rather, she was satisfied with the small amount of thought that she’d put into the idea a few months ago. Someone else taking the reins so that she could kick back and relax…

She deserved it.

“Of course I am, sweetie! I’ve always told you that all of this would be yours one day…” Kritsana didn’t look up from her extravagant meal as she lowered it into her gaping maw, brown lips parted and anticipatorily wet, “And besides, Mommy works so hard. Don’t you think she deserves to relax?”

Honestly, relaxing was all that super-sized CEO had done for most of anyone’s recent memory. The slender, stern, hard-nosed tycoon of Arisa’s childhood was something of a distant memory now. She’d been replaced by the big brown blob in front of her who wasted countless amounts of money on suits tailored to fit women the size of hippopotamuses, gorgeous and intoxicating feasts that could last for hours, and took risky deals with electronics companies as a means of ensuring she wouldn’t have to rise under her own power if she didn’t have to.

Even to someone as corpulent and forgiving as her daughter, who would go long amounts of time without seeing her mother throughout her schooling, Kritsana Boonliang-Spencer’s decision seemed unwise. Arisa’s business acumen came exclusively from textbooks—she had no practical training in the boardroom and she had never actually worked for a company that didn’t literally have her last name on the sign. Despite the fact that she was eager and ambitious and super positive, somehow it just felt so rushed!

“But… but what will you be doing?” Arisa did her best to seem grateful for the enormous burden responsibility that had been placed in her spacious lap, “Are you going to work at another site or…?”

“Nooo, silly.” Kritsana’s smile dimpled her softball-sized cheeks as she dabbed at the corners of her mouth, “I’m retiring!”

“Retiring?” Arisa parroted back, “Mother, you’re barely 45!”

The big brown blob on the other side of the desk shifted in her seat. Kritsana had become so corpulent, especially around the stomach (like daughter, like mother after all!) that her desk had to be built with her figure in mind. It looped around her in a U-shape, allowing her the most comfortable seating position for a woman of her supreme size. It was the same sort of desk they’d donated for the headmistress of Arisa’s preparatory school—it was all the rage.

And despite the great leniency that it allowed her immensity, Kritsana’s stomach still swelled over the lip of the desk. Fully stuffed, she often had to push herself backwards. She was nearly spherical in shape these days, having spent day after day taking her daughter’s well-meant advice to the fullest. She was a self-made woman and deserved every perk that came with her stature!

Now, Arisa was proof that the women in her family were especially prone to weight gain… but Kritsana had taken things to an entirely absurd level.

“And I’ve worked so hard to help build this company… er… our company… into something that you can be proud of!” she held her arms wide, fleshy wings spreading as she gestured vaguely around her office, “You step in, I step out… things just… keep going!”

Arisa narrowed her eyes at her mother suspiciously. Something that she seemed to have noticed.

“And what will you be doing while I’m running the company?” Arisa folded her fat fingers across her chest, leaning back in her seat (one that had been her mother’s at one time, before she’d outgrown it), “Do you have any… plans for retirement?”

“Oh! Well!” Kritsana burped into her hand, “There are… well… so many cruises and tours that I haven’t been able to go on. You know, while I was building the company and so on.”


“So I thought that…”

“Go onnnn.”

“I would spend some time for myself!”

“Mother!” Arisa pouted, her chubby cheeks puffing up even more as she worked herself into a huff, “You’re handing the company off to me so you can go around the world and stuff your face!”

“Is that so wrong though?” Kritsana whined like a child being denied dessert, “I work soooo hard!”

“You haven’t stopped eating since I got here!” Arisa’s disbelief yielded to amusement, “It’s six, and I got here at two!”

“I’m the boss. I can take long lunches if I want.” The older thai tub huffed, her arms so spread apart by the great berth of her bust that she could barely cross them, “Besides, it’s a celebratory dinner.”

“Celebrating your retirement already?” Arisa snorted

“No, missy, it’s a buyout celebration.” Her massive mountain of a mama corrected her, “We negotiated a deal with that Yeng Corporation, and I wanted you to get something too.”

“Before you left me with the company.”

“Before I left you with the highly trained experts who would help you run the company, yes.” The bigger Boonliang paused, “And to tell you that you’ll have the mansion to yourself for a while. Mama’s gonna be enjoying her retirement for quite a while in Aruba…”



By popular demand, we rejoin Adeline Holloway… as she struggles to solve the mystery of her secret admirer!


No one was really surprised when rumors started cropping up about Adeline Holloway supposedly “dating” one of her coworkers. Most of her students had pegged her as a lesbian anyway, thanks to antiquated stereotypes about women over thirty who were sort’ve bitchy and took their jobs a little too seriously. But the truth was, Adeline was more or less over the dating scene. She didn’t meet a lot of guys in an all girls’ school, and it wasn’t like she was going to wow anyone with a keister the size of the courtyard even if she did. Her trips into the town down the mountain trail were few and far between and she wasn’t one of those people who had much need for social media… honestly, this was just sort of a thing.

Yeah, that’s what she called it. A thing.

When she started receiving copious amounts of gifts and chocolates from a secret admirer, she had been flattered. Surprised. Skeptical. Suspicious. But flattered. She hadn’t caught anyone’s eye since… well… ever, really. She’d never had much luck in the dating scene, so the attention was nice. Really nice, actually. Her hard heart melted around those stupid bouquets and boxes of chocolates that—like clockwork—were left at her desk or on the porch of her cabin. And despite her protests, Adeline had really come around to the idea of having a secret admirer. It was a nice little ego boost, if nothing else. A feather in her cap after a long suffering career at Buttercombe Academy.

It wasn’t real—just a thing that happened, was seemingly going to keep happening, and honestly one that Adeline was in no real hurry to stop. It was… nice.

“It’s Valentine’s Day; are you and your secret girlfriend going to do anything special?” Rita Nelson teased her coworker in the break room

“You know very well that we’re not, thanks to the quantifier “secret” that you so helpfully keep bringing up…” Adeline rolled her eyes, “And what makes you so sure that it’s a woman?”

“You’re the one who said it was a girl first, Addy.” Maria Espanosa and her forty extra pounds colluded helpfully, “Remember?”

“Well what if it’s a man?” Adeline popped one of her chocolate bon bons into her mouth, “Considering I’m not gay, I think that’d be the preferable outcome for me.”

“That’s not what the girls in your fourth period think.” Rita snickered, “They call you —quote— a total carpet muncher.”

“They do not, Rita.”

“Everyone’s a little gay.” Maria “helpfully” insisted, “It’s called the Kinsey Scale.”

“I’m not gay.” Rita rebutted a little defensively, “I was married.”

“Why are we talking about which one of us is gay? Are we students here, or are we teachers?” Adeline said in a sudden tizzy, her soft cheeks glowing the bright pink of embarrassment, “And it doesn’t matter—it’s not like my little problem is going to come out and show himself any time soon.”


“Oh my god.”

It had been six months since Adeline had received her first love note from the thus-far unrevealed party. She had cycled through all the stages of the grief that this stupid admirer was giving her. She’d gone from denial of their existence to anger at their anonymity, to leaving them notes in hopes of bartering them into the light, to sadness at a brief drop off in frequency, to acceptance that this was just a part of her life now. She had a secret admirer (stalker? She sure hoped not!) that, clearly, didn’t want to make himself (…or herself, Adeline reluctantly admitted the possibility) to be known.

“So you still haven’t seen them? Like, they’re not leaving you photos or anything to go by?”

“Nothing.” Adeline sighed, popping another bon bon into her mouth, “Just flowers, a couple of cards, and all of these chocolates.”

A longing sigh escaped the heavy-hipped woman. Despite her best attempts at maintaining a neutrality towards the subject, sometimes her inner desires for romance eeked through her façade.

“That’s weird.” Maria crinkled her nose, biting into her cinnamon Pop Tart and taking a slurp from her coffee, “Wonder why?”

“They’re a chubby chaser.” Rita suggested facetiously, “They’re trying to chub Addy up with candy and chocolates until she’s the next Jenny Walker.”

Adeline swallowed her candy petulantly.

“He is not.” Adeline grumbled, “He… they… just know that I like chocolate.”

“Everyone likes chocolate.” Maria inserted herself again

“And besides, if they were trying to make me fat(ter than I already am) wouldn’t I be getting a lot more than a box of chocolates a day?”

“It’s the long con.” Rita snickered, her meaty melons quivering in delight at getting under Adeline’s skin, “Right now it’s chocolates, then it’s cakes, then it’s chocolates and cakes, and pretty soon we’re rolling you through the halls like Violet Beauregarde!”

“Rita!” Adeline whined, “Stop it!”

“Oom-pa, loom-pa, doopity-doo~”

Rita and Maria busted into a raucous fit of tummy wobbling laughter. Adeline’s face was burning bright red now. Out of anger, yes, but mostly out of embarrassment. She already felt so silly talking about a “secret admirer”, like she was some sort of child. But to have her friends pick on her about her ever-expanding derriere was another matter entirely. She was a lot more sensitive than she let on!

“I’m going to class now.” Adeline huffed, pushing herself away from the break room table and turning tail towards the door, “Enjoy being children while I’m gone.”

As she shut the door behind her, Adeline felt the wood bounce against her bodacious butt. God, it really was getting big, wasn’t she? It felt like just yesterday that she didn’t have to take a big girl step forward from every doorway just to make sure her booty didn’t bounce against the door…

“Maybe I should cut back…” Adeline grumbled underneath her breath as she waddled down the hallway towards her classroom, “Or at least leave them a note that says to start giving me celery sticks instead…”



By popular demand, we rejoin Piper Black… as she is fattened even further by her best friend!!


Nights over at Piper’s house had become an increasingly frequent occurrence for Dakota—and almost everyone had the wrong idea.

They assumed that the two of them were hooking up behind everyone else’s back. Not that there was anything wrong with that. They were young, it wasn’t like that kind of thing didn’t happen literally all of the time. Everyone had an experimental phase and, if it wasn’t just a phase, then who cares? All them being together meant, to everyone who assumed that they were, was that Piper had finally found a long-term relationship where she wasn’t treated like crap, and that Parker could officially add “dyke” to the list of derogatory terms that she liked to insult her younger sister with.

However, that wasn’t the case at all! Piper and Dakota were just really good friends. Nothing weird going on at all. Definitely nothing strange or unseemly—nothing downright suspicious was occurring between the two of them, no ma’am.

Just two friends… and one of them was making the other one fat.

Because maybe, just maybe she happened to have developed a sort of…


Dakota knew it was wrong and she knew that it was weird and she knew that it was just downright bizarre. But watching Piper pack on pound after pound of sweet, squishy, jiggly fat gave her so much satisfaction. She loved it! She’d been pouring calories upon calories into her best friend and secret feedee, her special project, in hopes of making her blow up bigger…

“I know I’m fat Dee, but I don’t think you need to pay for four burgers… this time… at least, not all at once.”

and bigger…

“I shouldn’t have to go the fucking fat girl store to find overalls that fit. This is America. We’re all fucking fat here anyway, why make me do the extra work?”

a-and bigger…

“Dee—gimme a hand? Gotta… oomph… turn sideways here…”

and bigger and bigger and bigger and… God dammit, she was a bad person, wasn’t she?

Anyway, it had all come to a head one night at Piper’s house. After an especially grueling day in the hot Summer sun, walking Piper up and down the pier and letting her suck down anything and everything she could get her hands on, Dakota had joined her for dinner with the rest of her family before asking to stay over, yet again.

“Dakota, sweetie, you don’t have to keep asking.” Harper, Piper’s mom, had said with a saucy wink, “I don’t think Piper will mind.”

And Dakota went red-faced. Why did everyone think that they were together? Had Piper said something? They certainly weren’t dating, at least as far as she knew. Did they look cute together? Oh God there were so many questions raised by that one simple statement!

The tiny Texan had been thinking about it ever since—even laying next to her beached whale of a best friend. She was getting so big that it was getting harder to make room for the both of them on her Queen-sized bed. Dakota had to stop sleeping against the wall on account of one particularly… potent incident that involved her getting pressed into the corner and nearly suffocating underneath her best friend’s backfat.

Laying there, playing big spoon to the biggest girl in Daven’s Port, Dakota could barely control herself! Piper was so soft. So squishy. Dakota had been doing this for so long now that Piper barely seemed to notice. Holding her, grabbing her, wriggling her nimble fingers between the heavy rolls of her fat. Whispering gently into her ears about the various things she’d like to do to her or how fat she was going to get. She could run her fingers across the circumference of Piper’s stuffed, squelching gut as it pooled on the bed in front of her, and the bloated brunette beside her would only purr in response. She was like putty in her hands—almost literally.

“Ohhh…” Piper moaned, “Yeah…”

Dakota began to knead her friend’s stomach like biscuit dough. It might as well have been dough. Yeah, that was Piper. A big ball of butter and dough that Dakota could play with, at least while she was asleep.

“You like that?” Dakota said huskily, “You like it when I rub your tummy?”

“Ffffuccckkk…” Piper said breathily, still slumbering, “Yessss…”

Her own meaty hands came to rest over Dakota’s, taking her gentle wresting and guiding Dakota’s motions into a more vigorous shaking. The box spring creaked beneath all of Piper’s weight suddenly shifting like that.

Creak, creak, creak.

That’s what it sounded like, the two of them like that. Metallic chirping that filled the whole room as the rusty box spring fought against their combined weight of more than four hundred pounds…

“You’re so fat.” Dakota audibly gasped as she slid her free hand between her legs, “God… God you’re so fat…”

Dakota couldn’t bring herself to question the logistics of what she was doing. Both to and to her friend. She needed sweet sexual relief, and sleeping next to the pile of Piper was only all the more reason that she needed to cum! Her hot breath filled Piper’s ears as she wrestled with her sleep mate’s girth with one hand and fingered herself with another…

Meanwhile, Piper had been absorbing Dakota’s subconscious suggestions for so long now that her stomach was now her biggest erogenous zone. Where once she might have been wrested from her sleep, what with Dakota’s audible groans and soft moans of pleasure, Piper slept like a lump on log; her subconscious mind doing all the hard work for her. Dakota’s light touches throughout the night were enough to make Piper wet while she slept. She’d never put two and two together, at least not consciously, but Piper had grown to love hearing Dakota’s mewls of pleasure while she slept. It fueled her own sweet dreams of eating and eating and eating…

It was part of the reason she kept inviting her friend over!

Creak, creak, creak…

Neither of them could ever figure out why everyone thought they were girlfriends!



By Popular Demand, we return to Shannon Polluck T̍̑ȟ̔ͬͧͯ̎̓̍ē̛ͩ͑̌͌͋͘͟ ͩͤȌ̶͒͝p͐̍̉͜͏eͬ͌͗̎͊̔̃͆n̢̄̈͢ ̆̇ͨ̀̐̓̕M͛͛͐͒̓̽͏o͌̇ͨ͘u̵ͮ̔t̨ͨ͑͡ḩ̄e̵̡̽̃̆͛ͬ̾̽d̛̅̈͒̏̽ͤ ͤ̿ͯ̀̎͆́͟͝B̐͒͟r̷͂̽͒͌ͫ͝i̋̃͊̊͗̚̕ḑ̒́̓͆̿͠e͑̑ͪ̅ͧ̔̑


The Cult of the Open Mouth had spent generations seeking the ultimate offering for Chu’ubroth.

He was a being of immense power, so great that the span between two stars was said to be equal to the berth with which his maw could open. To know him—the Many Mouthed One—was to feel truly and utterly insignificant. To know, first hand, the sheer scope of his size and magnitude was akin to a flea grasping the Mastiff’s size. Older than the universe itself, looming just over the edge of perception, Chu’ubroth peered into reality like a moth coveting a lamp.

And like a moth outside a window, he would occasionally beat against the walls of our dimension.

These were no simple quakes. They were nothing that no mortal man or woman could truly comprehend. Rather, his rattling of our reality took shape in many ways. The insidious machinations of the Yeng corporation, the impure thoughts of many those who coveted size and girth… perhaps even the strangeness of Abercrombie could be traced back to the Many Mouthed One’s presence perverting our reality with his very audacity to exist within it—no matter how comparatively small or momentary that existence might be.

And ever since they had begun preparing Her—the Open Mouthed Bride—these Cosmic Rumblings had been coming more and more frequently.

All would know the Madness of Girth. The Chaos of Corpulence and the Horror of Size would flow through the eyes and hearts of Man like the soiled waters of the Many Mouthed One’s world flowed into the black Oblivion. The emptiness inside them all was being exposed, and Chu’ubroth was coming now, banging against the sides of reality with such abandon that the High Priestess herself would tremble and shake.

H̨͖͉͍̑ͯ̊̑̕ǐ̡̨̬̼̩͙̯̤͒s̘̳̞̥̥ͨ͂̍̔̏͑̿̋̕ ̴̥͉ͦͦͪ̉͛̿̅ͦ͗͘H̐̋ͯͧͯ͂͏̸̛̣̥̗͇̹̞̜ȕ̼̪̺̯̥̮̯̩ͬͩ̇̓͘n͈͙̗̮̖͖̅̌̈̐ͦ̾̓ͬ͝g̸̗͎̫̣ͦ͋͛ͪ́̾ͫ͑̔e̹͍̮̅͐̃̿̇͗͟r̢̡̢͉̣̈́̄͑́͌ͦ̚ ̹̩͖̼̤͉̿̒̔̋͡w̧͎̺̱̑̀̉͑̐̄͗̒̀͜ŏ̼͇̜͖̙͍ͅṷ̸ͦͩ̌̿ͭ͢l̢̲̙̞ͯ̏̌̿͑ͯd̸̡̟̹ͯͥ͒̆̾ ̛̼̹͐̎ͭ͘f̣̮̤̹͈̘͛ͧ̓ͣ͢͞i̱̳̤̩̺̔̎ͮ͒͑̂ͭ̚l̵̢̜͈̳̯̻͌̌̍́̅ͭ̚l̛̜̦͉͇͕̉͋̂̀ ̧͊ͤͧ҉̗͖t̷͙̦̗̼̄ͯ̋͋͛̄̇̊͘h̰̺͍̼͌̀e͇͇̐ͦ̇̿͐͢m̵͔͙͉̪̳͈̜̾̃́͡ ̪͕̞͙̣̱͚͐̅̄̌ͨ̕͝a̡͓̯ͬ͗ͫ͋l̡̹̝̭̙͍̓̒̉ͩ͋́̆ͅͅl̨͖̄ͦ̓̍͑̉̔̀.̷͇̮͇͍͈͈͔͙̋͊

The small Virginia town closest to the Academy where they had found her—the Open Mouthed Bride—had felt the effects of His eminence more strongly than the rest of the world. A sure sign that His arrival was upon them there, in the part where the planes of reality were the weakest. The town had become Changed upon his influence, and so had all those who lived there.

The Academy up the mountain trail had never known such decadence. Such feasting. Instructors were swelling by the day, growing more and more corpulent with every passing morsel that they attempted to fill their emptiness with. Days were spent by becoming engorged and fat until they felt that they would explode if they ate another bite. Those who dared take the extra bites were rewarded, their ravenousness warped into pounds upon pounds of sweet, supple flesh to sin by…

The faculty became inflations of their former selves—round parodies of the human form who could barely waddle to and from their classrooms. Some students grew with such vigor that they would become trapped in their dorms. Chu’ubroth’s color from outside perspective had warped things so that, rather than slim them down, it seemed only natural to accommodate them. It was the humane thing to do. To Satiate them.

His presence was felt by all those in the Earthly realm. Whether it was understood was unlikely, but probable. The madmen screamed in their padded cells, growing without any reason as to why while the rest of the world continued to swell blissfully unaware of His unnatural arrival…

And then there were all of those worshippers who stirred in the Altar of the Open Mouth, just outside of Wellington, they buzzed around the most changed one of all.

She had once been known as Shannon Polluck, a plump and overworked headmistress of the Academy high in the mountains. But having cast aside her identity, she had become reborn. Bathed in his Gift, Shannon Polluck had become the Open Mouthed Bride, a being that embodied and personified the hunger of His unearthly Emptiness.

“M҉o̵r̡e͜͢͟.” Her voice carried like the roll tide of thunder, though her lips barely parted, “Hi͏s͞ Br͟id͟e dęm̡an͝ds̨ mo̕re!̷”

She had long become pinned to the dais where they worshipped her. Cleaned her. Fed her. The Bride was immobile, a lesser woman would have been crushed beneath her sheer size. Not even the burliest, brawniest of the Flock in teams of ten would have been able to wrestle her from the ground. She was too large, too corpulent… too fat.

As if such a thing existed in the mind of the Bride of the Open Mouth. Or, rather, what was left of what had been her mind. Touched by his Madness, she gave little thought to that sort of thing anymore—she knew her job.

The worshippers of the Open Mouth often pleasured her, or themselves, to her immensity. The Bride lived like a queen—though at the feet of Chu’ubroth she would be but another concubine, to the mortals whom fatted her, she was to be worshiped as his vassal upon the Earthly plane. Because soon, he would require a foothold into our reality.




Very soon.

“He arrives!” a voice called out over at the other side of the altar, “Children, prepare the Bride!”

At first, she was petulant. But upon feeling the trembling in the great folds of her fat, ones that only she could feel as a Bride of the Many Mouthed One, she began to understand her calling in life. It all became so clear. Even at her great size, she was nothing when compared to his…

His Majesty.

A being began to take form in everyone’s mind. There, and not there at the same time. Breathing into existence—he didn’t belong here. This world was not his own. But the buzzing feeling that Shannon—the Bride, the Bride, she corrected herself—began to feel in the flooring of her own enormousness warned her of his arrival.

She would have lifted an arm, if they hadn’t been too heavy to do so.

"M͐̾̇ÿͮ͌͑̓͝ ͤ̔̾ͧͥ̚K̂̾̚i͆̎͌̓̋̚҉n̂̓͌̆͊̇ͯğ̈́̄̊̐.ͪ͑̿͆͗̔̎͟”̈́͡ She said, her loud voice seeming quiet amidst the Chaos, “Ýͪöur ̷͛͗̂B̿̀ͥr̀̆̎͜įͮ̍̈́̈̅d̨ͩͦͯeͧ̆̔͏ ̾͌ͬ̀ą͛̃ͬw̓̆̆̂͠a̓i̸͒ͥͭ͐̾ͪ͆ẗ͗ͨ͆͒ͧsͪͬ̂ͦ͟ ҉y̷̆͑͛̋̏̂oͨ͑̓u͗͂ͨ…ͥ̊”



By Popular Demand, we rejoin Hannah and Arisa… as the bestest friends ever!


Hannah wasn’t one to take a loss lying down. She had known about her fetish for making people fat against their will ever since she was in middle school, and for five years after she made Bobbly Flannagan so fat he couldn’t touch his toes, she’d been dozens and dozens of fatties in without so much as a loss to her name. Making people fat was her talent, and more than that, it was her unbridled burning passion! To watch as people grew helpless and weak, putty in her hands as she fed them and told them everything was going to be okay while she pet their cute little tummies and imagined them as the fully-fledged ham planets that only she could make them out to be…

GOD it made her hot.

But then she had to go and make friends with STUPID. ARISA. SPENCER. That dumb Thai tub of lard had been so disarmingly cute and cuddly, with those big brown eyes and that deceptively innocent face beset by all those chins, that she had underestimated her power of undercutting all of Hannah’s massive machinations!

Oh sure, that stupid Freshman had put on weight while they roomed together back in prep school. But she weighed two hundred and eighty pounds walking through the door. Girls don’t get that big by accident—Arisa would have gotten fatter even if Hannah hadn’t been in the picture. And yeah, Hannah had helped her push past the big 3-0-0 within the first month of them living together. That wasn’t the point.

The point was that, in needing to be surrounded by all that food all the time and being so used to talking about how fucking fat she was and getting Hannah all hot and bothered by it so she’d let her guard down and by being so goddamn cute that Hannah couldn’t say no to a good long session of snacking on the couch or not moving for several hours, HANNAH MOTHERFUCKING HAMMOND HAD GOTTEN FAT.

Was it as huge as some of the gains that she’d forced on some of the other girls she’d roomed with? Maybe. It was kind of hard to tell after a winning streak for so long. But Hannah had gone from a slender Anna Kendrick lookalike to what would happen if Anna Kendrick ate Rebel Wilson (incidentally, Arisa really liked to watch the Pitch Perfect movies.)

She’d graduated as a senior… a chubby senior.

And that was way, way too much humiliation for a sociopathic obesophile like Hannah Hammond to bear.

She did her best to lose the weight. Everything but maybe an extra twenty pounds had melted off-and even then, what had remained had stayed in all the right places. Her T & A were spectacular these days, just ask Zack the bellhop as he stared her down, wondering if he’s hornier from his apple pie or from Hannah’s sweet patootie.

She had waited for this opportunity—she’d inherited the Daven’s Port hotel specifically because she knew of the Boonliang-Spencer’s dealings with Yeng. Arisa was a representative of that company and god dammit, Hannah was going to make that big brown butterball into a landfill before everything was said and done!

Of course, Arisa had only continued to gain weight after school and into college. She puttered around on a little mobility scooter that, naturally, Hannah had to match if she wanted to keep Arisa happy. She was way too big to go toddling around the hotel, at least not without re-reinforcing some of the floorboards.

And then Hannah was usually the one who made Arisa’s room service deliveries. A personal touch in the name of “old friends” and “good business”. Hannah always brought so much more than what she asked for—it’s not like they couldn’t spare the expense. Then she and Arisa would spend long hours talking and eating. Hannah could barely help herself as she watched the super-sized cinnamon-brown beluga stuff herself stupid day in and day out, growing under her care like all those years ago.

Pretty soon they started having lunch in Hannah’s office together, where Hannah could watch her charge continue to eat and eat and eat, and then they met once in a while in Arisa’s office in the Boonliang building after its construction…

Until one day, setting foot back in America for the first time in a long time, Arisa’s mother (gazing at the sight of her completed building in pride) noticed a shape off in the distance. Like a round ball on a motorcycle. It had been so long since she’d seen her daughter, but she’d know that shape anywhere!

“Arisa, sweetie!” she waved a hand high in the air, “Up here! Your building looks so much nicer than mi—”

As the shape puttered closer, it became clear to Kritsana that… that was not her daughter.

“Hi… Mrs. Spencer.”

Oh sure, it had been a few years since she’d come over after graduation, but Kritsana could never forget a face! Was that… Hannah Hammond buried beneath all that blubber? The last time she’d seen Arisa’s roommate from freshman year she had been just a chubby little graduate!

Guess Buttercombe made their girls big, after all…

“Yeah, Arisa’s on her way.” Hannah’s jowls rippled, the humongous hotel manager’s voice was gruff and defeated, “Her scooter broke down.”

“Oh my! It’s so good to see you!” Kritsana leaned forward, quite used to hugging immense young women on mobility scooters, “It’s been so long!”

“Yeah.” Hannah smacked her lips, giving Arisa’s mom a good up and down…

Now this one… she had potential.

“Hey, so… do you want to come with us to lunch?” Hannah’s gruff, shallowed voice perked up slightly as she found herself in the stead of a potential new project, “Arisa and I always go all out… I know she’d really appreciate it!”

“Oh no, I… I couldn’t.” the older Boonliang said dismissively

“Come on…” Hannah said, flicking on the almost-forgotten Hammond charm, “I insist.”


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This round is called Bobo's Selects! These are characters that I get requests about ALL THE TIME, and the plots are could-have-been stories that I may come back to, eventually. It's a mix and match of missed opportunities to make something fun!

Let's do a story where...

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Alice, Melissa, & Courtney  * ...where the first and third become concerned with the second's extreme weight gain!


The Gordge Offices were always hustle and bustle. The inexplicably female population of the New England branch was always working up a sweat. Granted, it wasn’t because they worked particularly hard at their jobs. And come to think of it, nothing ever got done all that quickly. So really, things in this particular branch of the Gordge Offices were more… huffing and busting.

Lots and lots of busting. Buttons, seams, chairs, one time there was a cubicle that got busted… it was really messy. Almost every woman who worked here was fat. Whether they had been big-boned before they started or had gotten that way on their ride through the high-calorie, low-movement life of chair squashing, just about everyone on payroll was fat. And getting fatter, without any exception.

Some women, however, took the (comparatively) ordinary and made it extraordinary. And while she might not have been much of an overachiever in getting her assignments done or in customer service, Melissa was absolutely excellent in getting fat. And around here, that was saying something.

She toddled in one day, the cheap linoleum and the constructible cubicles rattling uneasily in her wake. She kicked her fleshy legs wide so that her barrel-built body could make its way through the aisle created by her coworkers’ given areas—spacious enough for any normal woman, but certainly not for a woman as corpulent as Melissa was.

Her fat face was beset in a ring of fleshy chins, sunken and swaddled by jiggly jowls that quivered at her lumbering movements. Melissa swung her arms to either side as she moved; they had become swollen to the point that their plush lauraceous shape was visible beneath the miller-baker pink sweater sleeves. The momentum was needed to guide her all-encompassing, mind-bending gut as it bobbed and weaved and swayed as she struggled to make it through the office.

“Look at her…” her coworker (and oldest friend!) Alice Hart said with a click of concern for her billowing, biggening friend, “do you think she even realizes how big she’s getting?”

Not that Alice had much room to talk. Weighing more than three hundred pounds herself, it almost sounded hypocritical of her to show any condemnation over anyone’s weight. But she and Melissa had teetered around the same size for years now, steadily inflating at the same pace overall. But now that Melissa had eclipsed her in size, and so quickly, Alice felt the right to be concerned…

“I mean, she ought to.” Courtney’s thick second chin flexed as she spoke, “That’s my old sweater.”

Alice grimaced at the thought that her friend could have gotten so big. Courtney was one of the biggest ladies in the branch, aside from Jenna. And if Melissa was getting even bigger than she was, then…

Alice’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a loud crash. The floor shook as all of Melissa’s weight came crashing down on top of her poor office chair, destroying the poor thing almost the instant she plopped down.

“Yeah, I think so.” Courtney sighed, “Help me up so we can help Moo-lissa over there up…”



Lilith, Isabella, and Moonchild...  * where everyone teams up to fatten up the third in order to win a crazy contest!


“Mama I’m hungry!” Jen Sarovy whined as she slumped in her chair, “Why does she get so much? Like, I’m your daughter!”

No one would have denied that Jen Sarovy was hungry. Whether or not she needed the extra helpings is another matter. Like most of the women in the house, Jen was quite heavy. At sixteen and almost 300 pounds, Jen had gotten accustomed to a certain way of life. A way of life that involved getting stuffed at every angle by her overbearing mother.

“Now Jenny.” Her equally overfed mother, Isabelle, clicked in the most matriarchal way that her lax parenting style could manage, “You know that Mama and her friends are getting Laurie’s mom ready for the contest.”

That dumb contest, Jen snorted with a thigh-quaking stamp of her foot. Seeing the plump lower lip of her even plumper daughter begin to pout, she reached into her back pocket—stretched a mile wide by a motherly set of airbag-sized cheeks—and pulled out a wrinkled $20

“Go get yourself and Jesse some pizza.” Isabella said, toddling into the next room…

“Peesha?” the overly filled cheeks of one Moonchild Belemontes slurred her speech, “I love peesha!”

There was no doubt about that. For months now, Isabelle Sarovy and Lilith Grobauch had been doing their best to train their best friend and (at one time) equally fat cheer mom into a prime eating machine. They’d all been blowing up pretty steadily until they were the picture perfect example of fat, spoiled housewives. But then this contest came along, and… well…

“I’ll bet you do.” Lilith reached a plump hand down to jiggle her fattened friend by the flank, “That’s a good attitude to have—we’ve got a sure thing as long as you maintain that focus!”

Where at one time Lilith’s helicopter mom-ing would have guided her daughter to become the Cheer Squad captain… she’d already done that. Her talent for barking orders had gone unabated until they’d signed up Ms. Moonchild for the contest—and boy was she great at getting people pumped. Especially when she was already so good at getting fat.

This jiggling reverberated in the massive woman that encompassed the Sarovy household’s couch. She had put on so much weight since they’d started, there was no way of knowing how big she was anymore. Not without a special scale anyway. Moonchild was so fat that her cheeks had melded into her chin as it swallowed her neck. Her belly hung low to the floor, occasionally getting tickled by the living room carpeting. But those breasts—Laurie’s mom often rested her fat, almost useless arms on them like great fleshy pillow when her arms grew tired from eating.

Which was often.

“Ladies… hfff… I’m tired…” Moonchild puffed, “My chakras… too... depleted…”

“You’re just too fat and lazy to feed yourself.” Lilith rolled her eyes and leaned forward, taking the bowl of pasta from Mrs. Sarovy and taking matters into her own hands, “Now open wide, fatty. Gotta get you into shape!”

“Hrmmm…” Moonchild grunted huskily, her nipples stiffening in arousal… "Rrmmm..."

More, more, and more and more and more and more…



Haley, Courtney, and Dani...  * where all three of them unite to fatten up a common enemy!


Ever since Tara had moved home, it had been a real damper on the life that Haley had made for herself. She had a nice little routine going! Wake up, eat a homemade breakfast every day, go to class, skip class sometimes, get lunch, hang out with Courtney, meet up with Dani at Big Daddy’s, “study” (if it could be called that) and then go home for a nice Southern dinner. Was it so much to ask that, while she was attempting to better herself by getting her degree, she not be forced to deal with her bitchy sister?

Who, by the way, was substantially more bitchy now that she had lost her job and had to move back home. Seriously, it wasn’t Haley’s fault that the company that she’d put all her eggs in had gone bust, and it wasn’t her fault that she had to move back home. Tara was always picking on her, calling her names and was always like “when I lived in Charleston blah blah blah, y’know riiiiight?”. And that’s when she wasn’t busting her balls about being fat! That heifer was getting on her last nerve!

Even Courtney and Dani, her two closest friends, couldn’t stand it. They had all gotten used to being able to conk out after a nice meal at the West house, but nooooo. Tara had to move home and get her dumb room back. Now they were all squeezed into Haley’s room—a feat that was not especially easy these days! And Tara hogged up the bathroom and wouldn’t let Haley watch her shows after she got home from “studying” and it all sounded really petty when you put it out like this but Haley had had enough!

Which was when Dani—mischievous bitch—got the bright idea to get some revenge on Haley’s older sister.

It hadn’t taken long to settle on making Tara fat; after all, that was what she usually settled on when she needed to knock Haley or her friends down a peg. Besides, she had a crappy office job and lived with Mrs. West—it was going to happen eventually. Why not help speed up the process?

So the three extra fluffy freeloaders looked up every trick in the book that they could find, loading another bullet in their upcoming battle of the bulge. They mixed Whey powder in her coffee for sweetener, they swapped out her granola bars for protein bars and (as much as it pained them all!) they were quick to scoop extra helpings onto her plate when she wasn’t looking. It didn’t take long before Tara started to take to all the treatment…

Looking at her now, round as a ball, her short blonde hair framing her chubby red cheeks as she huffed and puffed her way up the porch, Haley and her fiendish friends felt sort of satisfied! Watching her older sister pork out was so satisfying, Haley was almost disappointed that she had hit her plateau…

“Just in time for Lunch!” their mother cooed as her eldest daughter wriggled through the doorway tummy first

“Great, I’m starved.” She puffed, “Move over, fatass.”

But what were plateaus, Haley thought as she scooched her super-sized posterior to the right to make way for her billowing big sister, if not obstacles meant to be overcome?

Fucking heifer.


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