Post stories about unhealthy fatties. (Anyone have a link to the Emma pastebin?)

https://www.deviantart.com/maverickthewriter/art/The-Wicked-Stepfather-Revisited-Part-2-314050183

https://www.deviantart.com/fatty-writes/art/A-Doctor-in-Deerfield-819509570

Not sure about the Pastebin but I made a copy of Emma for myself: https://sta.sh/01j2jbrz9j4f

There's the Gaining Perspective game from the thread before the Chan-nuke, gets pretty in depth in health failures.

http://gaining.servegame.com/

https://www.deviantart.com/devilgolucky/art/Bianca-s-Berry-atric-Breakthrough-823039751

https://www.wattpad.com/story/159376803-alternative-lifestyles-of-the-young-and-obese
pretty good story for health issues, especially chapter 2.5

You wake up as you feel yourself getting hungry again…but as you come to, you glance up and look into the mirror across from your bed. Look at you now…your soo fat…just a few years ago you were so energetic, so active, skinny, attractive, clean, beautiful… Now…you look at yourself…your many blubbery fat rolls flop out to your sides, your once toned stomach turned into a huge, round and jiggly double belly that flows out in front of you. You used to have such a cute, tight ass…now your ass consists two massive, gelatinous, cellulite covered blobs that ooze over the side of the bed, not to even mention your tits…huge fat pancake like utters that sag and lay against your bellies. You look and see your multiple chins cascading down your fat face…food and slop caked between them, covered in your drool… God your a disgusting looking blob, you sweat constantly from being such a wheezing cow an have sweat stains coming out from under all your fat rolls, a huge one left on the bed coming from under your tree trunk sized, roll covered thighs and your huge, flabby, smelly ass, stains under your saggy tits and those swollen globs of hanging fat you used to call arms. And don’t worry, you have the smell to match, you can’t even remember the last time you showered. (like you could even fit in one, much less get your lard ass up) You smell revolting, a mix of your sweaty blubber and unwashed fat folds, lingering with the stench of your constant burping and farting. Your manners have faded away soo much that your belches and farts are uncontrollable, passing rippling gas constantly throughout the day. *Suddenly your train of thought is stopped for a minute as you let a huge, awful smelling fart rip, making every inch of your lard covered body jiggle.* Suddenly you see the door open as your master walks is. Your suddenly reminded who turned you into such a lard covered, useless pile of pale fat. But as you see him carrying two massive tubs of lard, your uncontrollable hunger settles in…your controlled by food now. All you want is to stuff your fat filled face, your his fat hog now, mindless and hungry…just waiting for the next meal…

As he sets the tubs beside you…you cant control yourself. You attempt lift your sacks of fat (arms) and dip your tubby fingers into the lard. As you lift your arm, your owner covers his nose in disgust, for your damp, unwashed pits only worsen the smell. You hold out your arm (getting out of breath from just this) as your owner drizzles the lard with with chocolate syrup. You slowly raise it up to your bloated, sweaty face. Your mouth starts to ooze with drool as you cram the massive glob of lard into your face. Without chewing, you gulp the entire thing. And before you know it, your hunger completely takes you. Next thing you know, your cramming food in your mouth non stop, lard covering and caking in your chins, syrup running down your rolls and folds. You eat soo loudly, smacking and grunting like a pig, your uncontrollable, loud belching only making more of a mess. Your body jiggles and wobbles with every chew, every movement… Its true what they say, you are what you eat. Two tubs of lard lard later, you lay there, moaning with pleasure…for the food is your pleasure now…so good, soo much, soo fattening. Your master smacks you on your jello-glob like ass and the mass ripple throughout your lard pile of a body only causes you release another loud, wet fart. He walks to the door, but before walking out…he turns to you and says…”Look at you now…my fat, stupid pig…if only you knew better.” He then closes the door…leaving you eager for your next meal…

>>143

This might be better suited for the slob thread instead of the health thread

https://www.deviantart.com/stc9892/art/Moving-Back-Home-WG-COMMISSION-Part-XV-832212820

first part of one I wrote, starts slow, more slob than health, but the health stuff gets going soon.

https://www.wattpad.com/853247128-journal-from-the-quarantine-first-two-weeks

Any chance for a pastebin of that wattpad story. The link doesn't seem to work

https://www.deviantart.com/weeb-lord/art/The-Trial-Period-835156018

I commission several stories from FC-Punk based on a post-scarcity society that takes the sort of tech that Orson Scott's Fat Farm, and makes it the cornerstone of their culture.

Prologue (By FC-Punk)

It started started with the miracle of miracles, something so profound it revolutionized the world and drove countless scientists to madness and physicists to suicide: perpetual motion.

The first real and true perpetual motion machine turned everything upside down. Everything we knew about physics was wrong and the immediate aftermath was the end of the world’s energy crisis. Perpetual motion advanced so many things, it helped prevent Climate Change from getting any worse thanks to oil and fossil fuels becoming obsolete, although the effects it had inflicted still remained and there was a terraforming project being done on earth trying to fix things up and turn the climate back to normal.

The things we thought were impossible became reality and the things that were already fantastic became even more fantastical. We were able to go to mars and terraform it into a second earth. We have several ships in deep space thanks to mastering FTL travel. AI had advanced to the point where it’s everywhere, every house had it.

Automation quickly made several industries obsolete and millions of the world’s people became unemployed. To combat this Universal Basic Income was put into place in many countries.

Just when things started to feel normal after all these advances came the replicator. That changed everything, world hunger ended overnight by this device that could just produce food and drinks out of thin air!

Out of all the spectacular wonders this century has given us, the replicator is probably the most debated.

Many were skeptical about the nutritional value of replicator food versus naturally grown and many more were concerned over the implication of what was now a post-scarcity society…

I enjoyed the setting so much, that I wanted to throw my own attempt out there. Just a warning, this is going to be a bit intense by virtue of the setting.

So welcome to Mars where Hedonism is king. Where every little boy and girl dreams fondly of their first heart attack, that first diabetes diagnosis, or stroke. Where you aren't considered an adult until you've transferred at least once, and carry the palm tattoo that mark your body as a clone. Where your social status is measured by how many you've burned through and how far you taken them.. Welcome to a a coming of a age story during a time when 20 century brands and terms are coming back into fashion.

A Future Shock Story (Setting by FC-Punk)

Cast:
Erica - Our Protagonist, turning 16 in less than a month, nearly 800 lbs.
Beth - Erica’s Little Sister, 500 lbs
Alice - One of Erica’s two mothers, Mom A, just transferred
Becca - The other of Erica’s mothers, Mom B, over a thousand pounds

Erica’s Friends - Linda, and Polly (Bonded over each losing their feet to diabetes)
Serena (Turned 16 last month, had a full heart attack during her sweet sixteen, her mother is mayor, entitled, doesn’t care for Erica or her friends.)
Ms. Smalltree - Erica’s Unhealth Teacher.

““Wake up, sleepyhead. Time for breakfast.” You heard Mother Alice move into your room with your breakfast cart. It was loaded down with plates of bacon, huge stacks of pancakes dripping with butter and syrup, and a dozen pitchers of heavy cream. A smile crosses your face, as the support chair starts to lift you into a sitting position.

Mother Alice was always so doting the first few weeks after a new transfer. The trays were automated and would have arrived regardless, but she liked to make the effort in the morning while she was still walking. You could see the cigarette tucked into her lips and could only envy it. Just three more weeks, and you’d be able to start pulling down those with pitchers of beer.

You felt your massive gut shift over your knees as the mechanism gets you into a reclined eating position, obscuring those stumps that you’d worked so hard for. Losing a foot had gotten you into one of these chairs nearly a hundred pounds earlier than you otherwise would and once you’d met your friends, you all had wanted to match. The air bar running under your nose kicks up, forcing more oxygen into your lungs, giving you the breath to talk.

“You always know how to spoil me, Mom. “ You felt your bowels let go as you relax, the pipe and catheter sucking it up even as you make room for the next meal. You wish you could just let the mess happen like Mom Becca, but until you were an adult and no longer going to high school, you didn’t have the option. The machines even kept your room and clothes clean. So unfair.

“Now open up. You only have an hour before school, and I want to make sure you’re all full.” You see a second cart trundling in with even more food, cinnamon rolls, crepes, and even frosted muffins, with a dozen liters of sugar-squared soda. Now that was more than you’d ever finished in a sitting, but you loved a challenge.

Mechanical arms slide out of your chair as you tip open your mouth. A pitcher of heavy cream that was saturated with sugar poured down your throat, just as fast as you could swallow. You could feel the insulin pump kick into high gear, which caused your hunger to spike. This followed by fist fulls of bacon, and a second hand moving your jaw up and down to chew it up. You didn’t want to tire your jaw this early after all, and by the time you were swallowing, a huge slice of pancakes was heading in.

As the items on the cart start to vanish, you can feel your stomach getting stretching, a mass of stretch marks hidden by your stretch night shirt. Alice was looking on proudly as you started to heat up, your face flushing from the effort. She glanced down as you keep choking down food as quickly as you could, trying to race your sense of fullness and get both carts emptied before you have to leave.

“172/130, congratulations. Both Becca and I have been really impressed with how much effort you’ve put in. A near hypertensive crisis and completely out of control diabetes at your age shows real dedication. “ She runs her hand through your head as the chair distributes blood pressure medication into your rapidly clogging arteries. You could feel the pain in your chest that was such a sign of progress start to ease, and you couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment.

“No worries my dear. Three more weeks and the training wheels come off. Keep up the good work and it will be one to remember. ” She runs her hand through your hair and has it come back caked in sweat. She moved out to get Beth up and you let the machine feed you, any leftover material is forced out of your guts as your stomach packs tight. You can barely breathe for how full you are by the time the carts are empty and you have barely two minutes to be sponge bathed and redressed before its time for school.

You meet Beth by the door, her own stomach hanging down to her knees and a smear of grease on her face from her breakfast. She was swelling up nicely, but she opted to go for the saturated fats and salt route, and that would keep her mobile for longer. The effort of waddling even with her cane was clear, as she was barely more than five feet in height. But she managed to avoid the nannying of the chair for a little while longer, doing more damage in the process.

She watches you struggle to breathe as she huffs and puffs, both of you heading out the door and into a self-driving vehicle that would take you to school. The computers that ran most of your society had been programmed to expect school attendance for all citizens until they turned 18 or became adults. There were solid online learning classrooms for those who wanted a profession, but you had to pay attention to those. Physical schools only required physical attendance, and with a huge array of replicators and carts, you barely needed to move to keep a steady supply of food coming throughout the day.

“Good luck today, sport. Make sure to eat lots. “ She pats your taught belly and smirks.
“Someone did that already.” You both head out of the car and into the school building, moving to your respective classrooms. As your chair slid into place in behind of your desk, you see that both your friends Linda and Polly were there already and smoking like they had a grudge against their lungs. They had both turned 16 a few months ago and were taking advantage as much as they could.

They had both vowed to hold off drinking until you could go along with them, so you could develop their drinking problems together. You were really looking forward to it, as Mom Becca hadn’t been sober for more than five days at a time since she had Beth, and it looked like a lot of fun.

“Hey Erica.“ Linda breathed out a haze of second-hand smoke, the mechanical arm that was holding her cigarette pulling it away even as another one had a fresh one from her pack. You notice that she’s switched over to filterless. Impressive.

“Hey, you both.” Polly was too busy to talk, as she was mixing smoking with cramming food from a bag she brought from home. She came from farther than you or Linda and after her first heart attack, she was determined to keep up with Linda.

The rest of the students floated in on their support chairs as the recorded lesson starts up on the screen. There was bound to be one Sophomore somewhere who didn’t need a support chair, but if there was, you didn’t know them. No one was paying the slightest bit of attention and the material was centuries out of date. You watch as Serena slides in late again, but it’s her shirt that has you scowling. A pair of hearts with red circles around and a line through it mark the center of her massive chest.

“That bitch, a second heart attack. Its barely been a month since her first.“ Linda was always direct, though even Polly didn’t look happy. You can see Serena's noticed that you’ve noticed and the smirk that fills her fat face highlights her three chins. Her smug face vanishes as she moves to her place at the front of the class.

But as annoying as she was, you couldn’t really focus on it as you had already started nodding off to digest the massive breakfast you had churning in my stomach. The first two hours were practically nap time as the class was doing and their air bars struggled to keep the snores to a minimum. The only reason anyone was awake was to smoke.

At 10 am, your alarn woke you up. It was time for thr one class you l paid attention to, the only one taught by an actual teacher. The huge doors at the side open and a massive mobile bed floats lto the front of the class. Ms. Shalltree was nearly 2000 lbs and it was likely she’d been going for a transfer soon.

“Welcome..to..Unhealth class. “ You felt the excitement growing as the screen was replaced by a modern hologram from her bed and the rest of the class fell quiet. The only thing you can hear besides your teacher’s breathy voice is the low-level flatulence that is always present. She turns up her oxygen and stubs out the massive cigar she was smoking using eye movements before continuing.

“Based on the results from your chairs, there has been an average gain of ten pounds over the weekend. And I’m seeing increases in blood pressure and cholesterol across the board. Well done all.“ As the screen displays health statics, which showed their health in rather reverse of what would have been traditional. Green bars were those values well outside what’s healthy.

“You have clearly been keeping up with your eating, and raise a hand if you can.” When not a single hand goes up, there was a definitely a smile partially hidden by her fat. Not a single finger so much as twitched.

“Total immobility. I’ve taught you well. Which means that 10 pound gain is even with muscle atrophy.” You can feel your heart soar with pride as well as congestion. It’s a good feeling. This woman was a solid gainer, whose bodies tended not to last more than two years despite her taking the time out to teach us.

She pulls up a video of herself in a white shirt, obviously less than two months after a transfer. Her stomach hung below her t-shirt like a partially deflated ballon, mere fractions of a real gut. Extended before her was a table of the pizzas dripping with grease, burgers, and pitchers of beer. What follows is perhaps the most intensive feed you have ever. That was true dedication, which end up with her dripping with grease and holding onto a bright red stomach, as she struggled to eat one more slice

“That was two weeks after my latest transfer. Each of you knows what you should be doing but, if you really want to make progress you have to commit to hedonism. You have to believe that you should spend every day pushing yourself to consume more, have more, do less, pushing not just past too full but to destruction. You have to believe that your pleasure is more important than your health. That if you want to turn your arteries to concrete, or your lungs black sacks of tar, that is your right. That is practically your duty to show your heart whose boss. “ And with that rant, Ms. Shalltee lapsed into a gasping pile and coughed up black chunks onto her stained white shirt. It takes nearly five minutes for her to catch her breath as we absorb the lesson. Showing my body whose boss, that it can be replaced. You had never really thought about it like that.

“Now I want you to focus on snacking throughout your day and wrecking your sleeping schedule. Keeping pushing your consumption. Class Dismissed, I’m giving you the rest of the day off.” And with that, you were free to hit the restaurants outside the school grounds. I could tell that both your friends had been deeply affected by your teacher’s words. You all had the transfer implant, but one some level you still thought of this mound of fat as the whole of you.

“You know what, yeah. Fuck my body.” Linda was clearly for doing something more drastic. Polly was more thoughtful, thinking through the implications of the words more deeply. You, however, know exactly what you were going to do. Your nap and the lecture had let your breakfast move from your stomach to your intestines, and that meant it was time for more food.

“Girls. We are going to the Heart Attack Grill and we are going to eat until we have to go home. And then I’m going back every day until my birthday. I am sure I can get Ms. Shalltree to excuse me. “ They both smiled at me, and you knew that I’d have two companions every step of the way. After all, they were sixteen already, and if they managed to transition, it wouldn’t matter how many classes they missed.

And a dark part of you whispered to the support chair that if it didn't bring its A-game, you would be graduating early too. A few quick eye motions in the chair's interface and you are able to send a note to your teacher. And her reply just read read simply, go for it, you can show them all.

As you enter you noticed an actual woman behind the counter whose massive form has an approximation of an old-style doctor's coat covering it. She was local Dr. Michelle who ran the place as part manager, part mascot. You had fond memories of going to one near your home when you were younger. Every kid’s meal came with candy cigarettes. A deep and seductively smokey voice emerged from a voice box somewhere in the region of her face before you even have a chance to float over and order.

"Smalltree called ahead. Damn ambitious stunt you kids are tryingl, but I can see you have put the work in. I am willing to cut you a deal. If you will work for me for a year after your first transfer, I am willing to give you guys six months of VIP access now." That gets you excited. You heard rumors about VIP service at places like this. Special menus, eating coaches, even stomach rubs. You and Polly can't agree fast enough, and Linda isn't one to be left behind.

A small robot with three oversized wrist bands slides out, secures them to your right arms and leads you toward one of the unmarked doors in the back of the restaurant. It turns out to be a massive corridor with a number of VIP rooms set into the walls. It picks one midway down and leads you into a well-appointed lounge.

As your chairs settle in empty spaces next to massive coaches, a group of androids step through a door from which by the smell leads to the kitchen. It was rare to see them, as the robots were usually optimized for their functions and to make them unobtrusive. These were obviously designed around aesthetics with the traditional skimpy nurses uniform and a wildly exaggerated hourglass shape. The lack of at least a muffin top seemed wrong somehow on the female form.

“And to add to my future employee's delicious downward spiral, let me tell you a secret. Most of those pesky kid lockouts are built into the chairs and standard bots and seem to have been left out of our custom models. Put another way, birthday girl, you get to work on those addictions early and we can feed you off our Cardiac menu.” That had you salivating. You had wanted to start for so long, and both your moms had ordered off the cardiac before. Part of you realizes this must be how Serena has been keeping ahead of the rest of the class but the overwhelmingly delicious smells cut that train of thought off hard.

Motorized platters started arriving piled high with their Coronary Burgers which were a double bacon cheeseburger with fried chicken rather than buns and Clogger Fries which were loaded french-fried butter sticks dipped in ranch, garnished by packs of filterless cigarettes and pitchers of beer. One of the platters pulls up in front of you as a pair of the androids move up next to you. One starts lining up packs of cigarettes on your chest and starts to open a pack, before spraying a cough suppressant down your throat. It wouldn't do to have you cough up any tar and interrupt your eating. The second was unwrapping the greasy burger around and tossing the wrapper on the floor. You noticed that nothing was coming to pick up the trash.

“I think I’m going to like it here.” Polly’s sentiment was echoed by you both, though quietly as your mouths were full. You could feel the grease cake your mouth and dribble down your chins, before helping you swallow the mass of meat and cheese. It hits your stomach like a lead weight, heralding all sorts of wonderful long term effects. As soon as you open your mouth, the ‘fries’ were shoved in, but they practically melted in your after you bit into them. The process repeats as the second android holds your cigarettes in one hand and rubs your stomach with the other. A slightly robotic voice whispers encouragement to you, telling you what a great pig you are and that you keep eating as fat was good.

The moment you can’t fit any more in, out comes the first cigarette and pitcher of beer. It’s only the cough suppressant and the thick layer of grease that keeps you from coughing when that first lung full of smoke hits you. But you keep going, forcing yourself to keep with it until you can keep it down with less effort. That is followed by them tilting your head back and pouring a pitcher of beer down your neck. It spills a bit, and your head starts to swim from the nicotine and alcohol, but you felt so alive. It's definitely dulled the pain of being overstuffed and growing pain in your chest. You hear more and more drugs being pumped in to stabilize your excesses, and unfortunately they were keeping you stable.

It wasn’t until you settled into a routine that you looked over at your friends. They were more at home with smoking but they were unused to their growing intoxication. The goofy smiles they gave you must have been mirrored on your own. Now, this was the way to live. Too bad it cost more than 30,000 consumption points apiece.

The optional currency had once been a conservation aid, but now it was a way of keeping score and paying for the few luxuries their society still had. It was also the only thing you could pay someone who was doing a job in, as assessed by the system along with getting credit for consuming and transitioning. There were bonuses for hitting weight and unhealth targets, but jobs were still one of the best ways to get it unless you were a really dedicated gainer.

By the time it reached 5 pm, you were barely conscious. Between the grease that was practically sweating out of every pore and nearly blacking out from the alcohol, you were basically a passenger for the last hour as the androids worked your jaw and throat to force more of everything into you. Every system on the chair was practically redlining to keep you from the consequences of your binge. Your friends seem to be holding up a bit better, if only because they are older and a bit fatter.

Each of you triggered the home function on your chair, and just passed out, knowing that you would be back here tomorrow morning. You knew you’d be craving nicotine soon enough, but that would only feed your growing habit, and the haze of the booze distanced you from your various aches and pains.

When you came to, you were in the living room, around the tables of food and watching some competitive eating show. Mom Alice’s tight stomach was pushing up through already vanishing abs, and Mom Becca was stuffing herself with bacon-wrapped steaks and candied hams. Beth had already passed out in a recliner after getting her share, so she’d be up again for a snack at midnight.

“I hear from your teacher that you are in heavy prep for your 16th. Good, I am glad to see you taking things seriously. Your 16th is your first real step into the world and Alice was able to get a nice big venue for it.” Mom Becca gets out between chews. Mom Alice blushes, but you can tell she’s happy to have her effort recognized. The belch that follows is remarkably demure but heartfelt.

You loved both your Moms, but you looked up to Mom Becca. The remarkably energic matron had borne you and was dedicated to your development. She had been a professional eating champion, now she was a social media personality championing active decadence and the slob lifestyle. It was because of her that the cleaning robots in your home were turned down to minimum settings. Every room beside yours and Beths were drifts of wrappers, food scraps, and other debris. You wanted so much to live up to her example.

“HAG is a great first job. They will really get you consumption points to start out with and there are always some nice young eaters going through there.” Mom Alice was more practical, but you can tell they both supported your choice. That meant a lot, especially as it could have you repeating the grade and falling behind your peers. You spent most of the rest of the night drowsing and snacking any time that painfully full feeling left you. Water was forced on you by the chair to prevent hangovers, but you would have rather just kept drinking.

The rest week goes much the same way, with you spending four hours being stuffed by your family bookending the ten you spend in that VIP room. Your stomach keeps stretching, every millimeter being stuffed with fat and grease. And you were gaining with every passing hour, your quivering bulk filling the chair more and more fully. You were already getting a bit of overhang but you hadn’t quite overloaded its carrying capacity yet. By Saturday, your friends were over nine hundred pounds and you were not far behind them.

“Looks like someone’s a natural smoker.” Linda croaked at you before another pitcher of beer was poured down her throat. And she was right, you took to chain-smoking like a natural after that first day. It felt so good to be doing damage even when you were too full to eat and it helped settle your stomach, which was growing ever more fractious. Not that the other two were giving their lungs a break at all. You don’t share the numbness that seems to be spreading up from your extremities not wanting to get your hopes up, but you know your circulation was getting worse.

And that was when you witnessed Polly’s second heart attack. She stiffened as much as a blob of butter can stiffen, her eyes going wide and a smile curling her lips. She started to breathe out roughly, as the pain and her excitement grew. But it wasn’t until the bed flatlined her and you heard the electricity ramp up that you knew for certain. One shock, two, three before her heart started beating again and the machines started to massage her chest. God, how you envied her. And once it’s clear that excitement is over, the androids go right back to feeding her without the hour’s grace that the chair mandates. It’s clear from the exhausted smile that Polly gives you that this plan was the right call.

Each day the three of you pack on the pounds as your health actively decreases fast enough to watch. You could see the pride in your parent’s eyes and the envy in your sisters as your breathing gets more labored, and your skin starts to darken. But despite the growing pain and numbness, and the sense that you were glorious trapped in a prison of your own flesh, you still have the interference of the chair’s kid settings. Your best friends were degrading far faster, Linda had her first stroke that second Tuesday. It was magical, her whole left side drooping and her left eye rolling back. With that and a heart attack a piece that last friday, they could wear their score card t-shirts proudly to your sweet sixteen.

That wasn’t to say you haven’t had your own accomplishments even if the chair has managed to keep your heart beating and your blood pumping. Everything below your stomach was nearly a ruin, as you lost bowel control by the end of week two. It turned your digestive process into a fastlane, and along with nearly constant gas, it was a sign about just how wrecked your nearly thousand pound body was by the end. The nightly nicotine withdrawal had you up to three packs a day by the time your special day rolled around, and that was an encouraging sign for later.

When Saturday arrived, you were awakened not by food for the first time, as you’d be not eating until the party started to build up your hunger. Mom Alice was back to nearly 250 lbs, and Mom Becca was nearly 1500, but you knew they had both neglected their own gain getting this ready for you. A massive yellow dress had been prepared, and fitted over your form. Your fat was already sagging off your chair in all directions, but the fabric helped keep it contained. It was designed to fit tightly and not of the stretchy fabric, so you could split it during your gorge.

When you got ready to leave, you were surprised when Beth showed up in a support chair. Then you really looked at her without the haze of alcohol for the first time in weeks., and you saw how much she’d grown. Good for her, that would really make an impression on her peers. Traveling to the venue, you were surprised to discover that it's the HAG event center. The party was set up in one of the large event rooms with virtual signs pointing the way.

When you get there, the space was filled with tables, its each decorated with cartons of cigarettes to celebrate a privilege that should have been newly earned and kegs of beer so the bots can just pour. And setup at the center, in pride of place and full view was your feasting table. The gurgle of hunger had your mouth watering, and you wasted no time getting into place. The count down to the end of the interference was nearly more than you could bear.

It doesn’t take long for your friends and their parents to roll in. Mobility beds one and all, neither of them had younger siblings and so their parents had taken the opportunity to synchronize their transitions. Soon your classmates started pouring in, and they were followed by a newly transitioned Ms Shalltree, who was all smiles at just how far gone the class was. Apparently you and your friends weren't the only ones who’d taken her words to heart. Half of them were in mobility beds and the rest were getting there.

Once everyone had arrived and with five minutes left before the bed stopped interfering, Mom Alice signaled turned on her mike and showed up on the screen behind you. “I would like to thank you all for coming to Erica’s 16th birthday. She’s put in a lot of hard eating in to get where she is and we both are proud at how well she’s done. We will start to feast soon, but before that I’d give to give my not-so-little girl a birthday gift. “

From a side door, an empty mobility bed trundles out. The statement was clear, you’d be leaving in that and likely burying this body in it. A bigger public statement of support you couldn’t imagine. Becca’s card was lying on the pillow, and that meant whatever she had gotten you was for later.

But with that over, the timer went up on the screen and at zero, automated trays of food emerged from half-a dozen doors. Some went to the tables, but many of them headed directly towards you. You feel the medical supports withdraw to your delight. Each cart was from one of the tables, filled with their favorite food and drinks. You’d eat them all even if you were starting to hear your pulse in your ears.

Steak to sushi, danishes to donuts, the carts came on. And you swallowed it down with all the practice you had gotten over the last three weeks. Barely chewing, the chair forcing them down with a new found abandon now that it was no longer restricted. Around you can feel others gorging but they all keep one eye on you, and that feels good. Your pulse feels like a freight train and chest hurts so good and that’s even better. You hear your seams split and your stomach flop out for all to see and that’s the best of all.

You are practically marinating in liquor, so you don’t notice the tingling until that precious first heart attack hits you like a freight train. A bolt of pure pain and pleasure filling your senses, as the few muscles still working seize and your arm goes numb. Each moment seems to extend out into eternity, the pleased smiles on so many faces and the looks of pride in others. The sound of the flatline that just punctuates the best day of your life, when a second gift unlooked for follows. An explosion in your brain takes your vision, and as you collapse into unconsciousness from both the stroke and your first orgasm, the last thing you see is Serena’s jealous face. Showed them all, didn’t you.

By the time you come to, you can’t really move much on the left side of your face. The droop doesn’t hide your smile as you find yourself in your new mobile bed, no effort having been made at covering the magnificent sack of lard you call a stomach. It was standing practically straight upward, the food supporting a lard apron that had long since eclipsed your stumps, like a fine tower to gluttony. Sitting next to you in the ruins of her own dress and holding a belly that was strained near to bursting was Ms. Smalltree.

“Stroke and heart attack, and not three hours in too. Well done Erica.” You can’t even feel where she pats you and that just makes you smile wider. She went back to reading her book as the party went on, keeping you company as the rest feast. No one is really pushing themselves, as it would be rude to try and upstage you, especially now. You glanced around with one good eye and realized you still have plenty of room in this bed. Something to fix on the way to your first transition. You had the bed grab a pack of smokes, and you started your first official cig like a natural.

The party slowly wound down and people stopped by to give their congratulations. Your showing was impressive, and even now your blood pressure was deep in the red zone, the nicotine ironically helping you keep calm. You sister was excitedly retelling what happened even more breathlessly than she usually was to anyone who would listen.

When you got up for your midnight snack you found Mom Rebecca waiting. She told you she’d be pushing her own transition, so you could hit it as close together as you could and then you’d get her present. You could feel the love, and even with you needing the machine's help to keep the food from slipping out your left side of your mouth, you were happy.

Needless to say, five months of VIP weren’t going to waste, especially with the job half done. With the school year less than four months for ending, you were determined not to have to repeat. The trip back to the HAG was done in triumph, your VIP room half filled with garbage and stains that managed to fit your three beds and the droids if barely. The food was modified to include flavored lard shakes, but otherwise you kept up your new diet. You were smoking like a chimney every moment you didn’t have food in your mouth, just feeling lucky that it had been modified to not deaden your sense of taste like it did in the old days.

It doesn’t take long for the heart attacks to start coming hard and fast for all of you, each hitting with that same freight train force followed by a rush of physical pleasure that you didn’t recognize at the time. Apparently the drugs the chairs use have suppression of the libido as a side effect. Not a week went by that one of you didn’t flatline, and that was far from the only thing. You ended up losing most of your fingers to amputations, and Polly was the stroke queen, as her fifth took her capacity for speech. It wasn’t surprising that she was the first to go three months in. A six stroke pig backed on a practically routine heart attack, and finished her off. That only made you and Linda more determined. Spending more and more hours eating, fighting through diabetic comas to cram one more thing in. Your room was finally the style that you had always wanted, but you were too focused to really enjoy it.
When Linda went two weeks later, nearly 1200 lbs of fat that you were finding oddly compelling, your good eye staring at her sweating rolls as you cramed your face, it was practically expected. The heart attack was massive, the loss of heart function effectively total. The pump was dead and she soon followed, the look of triumph in her eyes until the very end.
Neither had shown up again, but that was normal. It took time to do that first transfer after all, and people tended to want to test out their new forms before getting back on the grind. Still it was lonely to eat alone, so you were all too pleased each time you felt your heart lurch with pain and the beat sputtered to a stop, the lullaby of the flatline underlying your hopes. Only to have them dashed by the defib.

The last time, though, it didn’t bother to charge and that was what told you this time was different. This was it, you’d done it, you were going to be an adult. And that dark part of you that had grown these past months was salivating at having another body to destroy. And as the darkness claimed you, and the brain you were thinking with had its last thought, you wondered what your gift was.

Epilogue:
“In the end, not a single one of Smalltree’s class made it to Junior year. It's quite remarkable.” Angelica, the mayor’s aid said, in between bites of pizza. She was a recent hire, but had proven remarkably adept.
“Yes. She is one of our finest teachers. Why do you think my youngest daughter was in her class? Make sure you get her a bonus or award for it.” The Mayor was a woman with great appetites, something that her society had always respected. She’d worked hard with her friends in the Martian Senate to make their society what it was today after all. No one needed to know what they did with the brains after they disposed of the clones after all. And it wasn’t until Serena stepped into that class room, stepped for God’s sake, that she could still walk…<sigh> that she’d show real ambition.
“What about her classmate Erica? Serena was most cross about being shown up.” Ah, she regretted not making it to that sweet sixteen. Still a rival would be good for her, even if Erica didn’t transition into politics.
“Don’t do anything, but keep tabs on her. I will be interested in how this plays out.”

Don't do things by halves, do I.

I love to hear feedback, and I have some ideas for sequels if there is interest. Also if you have an idea for a story in the setting, let me know and I will try to take a stab at it.

>>423
OH MY GOD! One of the best things I've ever been able to read, checks so many boxes. Please write more!

>>423
I'll be happy to see any more you might write but some ideas-
Adding more and more vices- sex, harder drugs ect.
More description to how the even younger go about, how toddlers eat there first butter bar how there goal was the first to get unable to run ect.
And then MAYBE a little story about someone divergent from the system, someone who rebels against the hedonism system? Someone who crash lands on mars, someone who was born there but never got the whole fat thing or someone foreign from the press who wants to start a revolution?- with the government...pacifying them into the public order. Any method you'd use would be fun but I'd love to see them put under some LSD opium drip and put under some brainwashing screen or visor.
Maybe forcibly addicting to them to opium or heroin, against there will at first then after enough time having them beg for a fix and getting them to start binge eating to get there fix, or go on broadcast publicly humiliating themselves or taking back what they said and endorsing extreme hedonism.

Just some random slightly dark idea, look forward to whatever. Do you have more work to see anywhere?

(Ask and you shall receive)

You were standing in front of a mirror in the recovery room and you didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror. Nearly six feet of lean muscle with glossy black hair and green eyes that had a sparkle of vitality in their depth. It seems wrong somehow, the flat belly especially. The massive chest and posterior that reminded you of the HAG androids were barely a consolation.

Just standing was an adjustment but you could remember a time when you had been able to do so. What was more strange was just how lacking it all felt. A thousand small aches and pains vanishing at once was enough to leave you lightheaded, Add to that a body that seemed to be bursting with strength and energy, and you felt like you might come apart at any moment.

But once the disorientation faded, the darker thoughts returned and a wicked smile followed. You were going to get to do it all again and this time without any interference. You were going to defile the woman in the mirror. The idea of wrecking this perfect body filling you with an odd sensation you didn’t yet have a name for. Still, you could see why they’d left you alone to collect yourself. The silvery tattoo affixed to your palm containing an id code and a one showed how far you’d come. And those last few memories showed you how far you had to go.

Getting dressed was an experience as well, it had been so long since you’d done it for yourself. A white shirt and yoga pants which were surprisingly not made of stretch fabric was waiting for you along with an envelope. Cracking it open, you found a note from Mother Becca, a pack of cigarettes and a keycard. The letter explained that she would be a couple of days behind you, having managed to survive longer than she thought. She had secured an apartment for the two of you further downtown, which would be a step up from the starter apartment new adults typically received. Apparently, there would be a holo-orientation waiting that you’d have to go through for a bit anyway, so that would pass the time.

It didn’t take more than a few minutes to pocket the card, slide the pack into your cleavage which was straining the white material and wobbling as flesh should, and then you headed to check out.

“The Hourglass, very popular as a starter for women. I know some people swear by the Apple as you will lose your mobility quicker, but you get large starting fat deposits without any point penalty and that more than makes up for it. “ The Hospital attendant who checked you out pointed to the standard male and female build types, and add ons. Apparently, anything that made your gains easier or your health fail faster would apply a penalty to any points earned, and things that made it harder added a bonus.

You already have a cig in your lips and you are forcing down smoke when you exit the building, pausing to flag down an automated taxi. It scans your palm and that makes you feel so adult, and you are able to have it take you to your place of residence. As you watched the city go by, you are able to people watch as you break in the new lungs. The menthols are helpful with that, and by the time you arrive at the apartment building, you are already chaining your third. You have to slow down after that, no longer having the mass to just tank the nicotine anymore.

Which means you reach the apartment building and step out of the cab, the smell hits you without smoke to blunt it. The apartment building was called the Lardfill Arms, one of the luxury apartment buildings in what had become the Slob district of the city. The garbage cans on the street were artisanally overflowing, and that was just the start. As you pulled out the key card, the doors slid open and you were able to move into your new home. The walkway to the elevator was kept clear of debris to prevent falls, but trash from the ground floor apartments poured into the visible hallways.

Yours was on the second floor and stepping into the elevator, you could smell the sweat and unwashed bodies from where they’d rubbed against the walls. The second floor was much as the first, though the apartments seemed a bit farther apart. You present the key card to the door and it slides open on a massive carpeted living room with a pair of massive recliners set in front of a holo display along with a host of floating tables between them. There are two massive holes in the wall that lead to the other two rooms in the apartment. Each contained a huge mobility bed, and a support chair, obviously more advanced than the ones you had been using. One obvious modification was a huge trough that starts midway down the bed in each and runs to the end sloping downward, the bottom of the chair seems to be designed to be wider than the top as well which seems related.

Shrugging you drop your card onto one of the floating tables, and flop into the right recliner. You feel it conform to your body and the holoprojector turned on. The first thing that you saw was a recording of one of the building’s managers. A massive hog of a woman who flab seemed to flow over the edges of her support chair stared out at you, her body covered in food stains.

“Welcome…<belch>….new resident to the Lardfill Arms, the finest slob living in this entire city. Each suite is fitted with only the finest replicators and an array of automated assistance for every need. Each room is carefully carpeted…<belch>..for maximum staining potential. On the third floor, we have a communal sauna to really get your sweat up and hot oil pool for greasy soaking. “ She takes a moment to have her face stuffed with a greasy burger and choke down onion rings. Now that was a woman who knew what she wanted. No wonder Mom Becca wanted her here.

“For those unused to slobby living, you’ll find that your rooms have no bathrooms. Bathing will be provided by robotic assistance when necessary, and you’ll find toilets built into the furniture. Just..<grunt>...do what comes natural and it will take care of it. Its good practice for immobility after all. If you run into issues with the facilities, just let the room know and we will take care of it. Welcome...and good eating.” And she was putting words to actions, getting back to serious eating as the recording cuts out. Huh, you hadn’t noticed the lack of facilities. It doesn’t sound too bad anyway, and you figure you’ll save time by just taking off your pants now. As if on queue, the apartments automated voice asks what you’ll be having to eat today. You respond that you feel like buttered pasta and a pitcher of beer.

As the replicator runs up your massive bowl of buttered spaghetti and a tray brings you a pitcher of beer that you start drinking directly from, a second holo-message starts up. This woman is far smaller and more officious. Your respect for her diminishes until you notice a fifteen proudly displayed on her palm.

“Welcome new citizen. In the interest of help you cope with your new adult realities, your city government has put together this helpful video series. Should you need to pause, just say pause at any time. “ What followed was a remarkably stark and clinic discussion of the part of society that was deliberately hidden from children. Most of this revolved around sex and human attraction in general. With the drugs keeping children alive until their 18th birthday suppressing libido and most really wouldn’t be in any position to act on it afterward, it was decided to simply conceal those activities until after the first transfer.

Suddenly a lot of the non-pain related feelings that you’d experienced during those three months came into focus, along with that thrill you’d had earlier today. As the buttered noodles were placed before you, you placed the bowl on your lap and started scooping them out into your mouth. The pleasant tingle you got from rubbing your hands off on your shirt had a name now. That seemed to encourage you to eat more, and thus you were quite full by the time it got to more advanced subjects like masturbation, sexual techniques, and the like.

Hours stretched in days as the video continues on, explaining more and more about this companion to gluttony you’d been missing all your life. Engrossed, you stay in the recliner, a new pitcher of beer and bowl of noodles floating up every time you are less than painfully full. The empties are just tossed to the floor to start piling up. Naturally, you eventually can’t ignore the call of nature even from the semi-entranced stupor and you just let go. Part of the seat drops out even as your bowels and bladder empty. Once you’re done, you can feel a robotic hand take care of cleaning up before it slides back into place.

By the time Mom Becca arrives, it has reached the final section, a series of pornographic clips of a wide variety to help gauge sexual interest and show a cross-section of possibility. You’ve found a BBW lesbian clip that excites and intrigues you. The video senses your interest and expands out the clip to the full movie, and you decide to try your hand at this whole masturbation thing while you can still reach. So she walks in on you with a cigarette clenched in your teeth and two buttery knuckles inside you as you approach this so-called climax.

You came just as she plops down on the other recliner, adding another fluid to the beer and butter that was covering you and it. So focused on the end of the video and the come down from your first self-discovery you don’t notice her until she speaks.

“Ah. You take after Alice I see. I was always a bit less choosy.” You nearly slip out of the chair, you look up to find her smiling at you. Her build had changed to a near mirror of your own, including the exaggerated curves. You glance around for your pants, but she just shakes her head before removing her own.

“Nice thing about downtown. Since children are banned, clothing is decidedly optional. Cleanings aren't currently but I have turned it down to once a week. I also made sure to stock non-stretch white shirts in various sizes. For the much the same reason.” She smiles at you and you manage to hide your blush under several days of grime. She was always the brash one of your parents and it was clear she had decided to introduce you to both adulthood and slob.

"So what's the plan?" You smile back at your mother. If she wasn't going to be embarrassed, you certainly wouldn't be. Besides she always seemed to be having more fun.

"You have a year commitment to the Heart Attack grill. But they aren't going to start you until you are at least 500 pounds, so we have some time for me to take you around and show the district. Let you really get the full experience before you've got a job to go to." Unspoken was her desire to vlog the whole thing for her followers. But I give her permission eventually, after a bit of teasing. After all, her fans helped pay for this place and who was I to deny my public. That gets her to choke on her smoke which gets me giggling. This felt good.

" What about Mom Alice and Beth?" As nice as it was for her to take the time, I did worry for the rest of my family. No guided tours were worth my parents' marriage after all.

"Alice will be helping Beth through her last year of high school and into her first transfer. Once that happens, they will move up here with us. We will get a bigger apartment too." That was a relief, so much of one that you bowels let go again. The relief on two fronts had you practically giddy.

"At a girl, you are a natural. Now get some rest while I stuff my face, we got long days ahead." And you did just that, the recliner sliding back as you nodded off. By the time you woke back up, Mom had a noticeable stomach bulge and several interesting stains on her shirt.

Mom stood up and started heading for the door. It appeared she hadn't been kidding about no pants. As you head out, the door locks to your palm print, negating the need to carry the keycard. Which was fortunate as the only place left was your cleavage and that was were you kept your smokes. Granted you could probably fit a carton in there, but it was the principle of the thing.

As you head out you pass a number of your slovenly neighbors. And yeah, not a single one of them was wearing pants. For most, it was a nonissue as their stomachs did the job from the front. But no one seemed to care anyway.

"A few rules for the Slob district. Every seat is a toilet, one way or another. Use them whenever you feel the slightest need. You want to train your body out of bowel control and it’s considered a compliment to the establishment." Mom says as she flags down a green cab.

"Never walk when you can ride and use the green cabs, as they are the slob ones." Something she proceeds to demonstrate by urinating on the cab seat, only for a small drain to open up and a mechanical hand doing a quick wipe.

"If you like a meal, pick up at least one stain, it is a compliment to the chef. And finally, never do something that can be done for you. Especially if there are machines for it." You suspected you knew what she meant and this blush was harder to hide. Desperate to get off the subject you ask where you were going.

"We are going to Syrup every morning, they are one of my sponsors. They sell all you can drink flavored corn syrups with pancakes. From there, we've got a no walking tour of the Stain gallery and lunch at the Hog Farm. From there it's a show at the Groan Theater, and Dinner at the Pig Pen." Quite the action-packed day ahead, and it was practically your first day out in this new body. You had barely covered up your abs with the butter noodle binges. Time to get serious about gorging and seeing the sights.

Pulling up at Syrup, you noticed that their marketing was definitely focused. Syrup because diabetes doesn't just happen was a pretty clear sign. A floating camera was waiting for us as we walked in and the android hostess was obviously warned.

As we are shown to our seats, I notice the feeding tubes hanging above each cluster of comfy chairs. When we sit down, I feel the smooth leather against my bare rear and look down to notice the chair displaying blood sugar, insulin, and pancreatic function levels.

"We find our mobile customers to enjoy the ability to track their progress. Anyone who manages to get diabetes while here gets a complimentary t-shirt reading Syrup because who needs a pancreas anyway and a set of branded insulin shots." The chipper robot left us to the ordering screen. I selected and orange-flavored while Mom went for a cherry. Neither of us bothered with the other dishes, that wasn't why people came. Two colored tubes descended and as we secured them, I noticed diabetes goals were already trending.

By the time we left, you both had a bright and shiny red belly, stretched to its limits by the feed. You didn't remember much of the gallery, ut just being tucked against your Mom and not moving was enough.

The Hog Farm was a theme restaurant built around serving every food made out of pigs. Buttered bacon was the starter and it only got worse from there. You were still pretty bloated from the corn syrup, but that was going to stop you from pulling down just as much bacon as you could fit in your face. Mom went for deep-fried pork shoulder, but that was obviously more of a lift. Both of you were practically stumbling but the views were way up. The Groan was the district's best full-service adult theater.

Full service was what it meant, each chair had hands for holding your smokes, feeding you theater food, and more for other pleasures. As the chubby coeds were possessed and fed by a ghost born of their repressed desires, you come well and often. As your Mom looks over at you, you feel an understanding as she shares her pleasures with you. This was her life before kids and desperately wants to share it with you, so you don't drift away. As you reach over and clasp her hand with yours, you can see her smile grow in something beautiful.

The night ends in the Pig Pen, a bar and grill whose main attraction is a mud wrestling ring and amateur sumo tournaments on set days. One wasn't today, and so you relaxed with more alcohol, your dinner of wings and sliders fitting in better with the bacon.

"So what did you think of your first real day an adult slob?" Mom asked as she pounded another shot and we both relieved ourselves on the bench seats. The dropped panel of the waste trap was practically and not holding was pretty great. Made more room too.

"Fantastic Mom. I can't wait to get my stomach back, but I had a lot of fun. Can't wait for tomorrow."

And so it went, each day bringing new sights and new delights. The pounds crept on, slowly at first and then with increasing speed as your new metabolism threw up its hands. Each day your curves grew more exaggerated, your new belly taking no time at all to join the party.

Still, you both take a day a week to stay in and really slob up the place. Each stain was your mark, each piece of trash a reminder that you are there.

The first month you manage to go from 130 to 180, a light layer of flab covers all those muscles you couldn't get rid of quickly enough. But your stomach was starting to really stretch, and following Mom's advice, you started to snack between those gorging sessions.

Then next month had your reach 260, every inch of skin covered in stretch marks to go along your muffin top and starter double chin. Each gorging session took longer and the snacking grew. You weren't smoking as often as you should have, but it would cut down on the time to talk as well the smell you were coming more and more to appreciate.

By month three, you gave up on hitting any more attractions and just started to go from meal to meal with barely a pause for breath. In truth, you were struggling to keep up with your Mom as she pushed the pace. Even as you gained at an astonishing rate it was clear she had been holding back. Fortunately, it was at this point that diabetes, your old friend showed up. You both ended up with a Syrup brand insulin pump. You preferred the shots but you were too lazy to carry or manage them. You would switch back over when you ended up in the chair.

This however really kick-started your gorging, just like last time. You start ripping out of shirts on a weekly basis, your breasts and stomach flopping out until a larger shirt can be found. It isn't two weeks before your waddling, each step getting harder as your thighs start to really rub together. Your double chin has come back in full force and it brought a friend. Even looking down at your hands you can see them swell.

And that brings you to the matter of both your feet. You were nearly four hundred pounds, by this point. Your guts were too large to see them even from the recliner, but you can see each other, and with the way they were blackening you wouldn't have them for long.

"We could stop going to Syrup and focus on salts and fats until our weights force us into the chairs." You could tell that wasn't what she wanted, but she would follow your lead if you wanted to try something different this time. But you honestly didn't, maybe a few transfers down the road, but you had never liked walking and you missed the chair. You missed it just doing things for you.

"No. Let's double down." And with that, the die was set and it didn't take long for you both to end up in support chairs. You were back to being a member of the sisterhood of no feet, and it felt good to share that with your mother. That led to the discussion of the trench, which was apparently for your waste.

“The diaper was the kid-friendly compromise, but this is how real slobs handle their mess. You splay your legs out as far you can, as you don’t want them getting in the way and just let go, so it can pool in the depression under your growing gut. The chair will lift your stomach up and vacuum it out when it starts to fill, but otherwise, it’s there.” The sheer decadence was mind blowing, and while the tube connections might be more efficient, now that you knew that this was out there, you’d never use anything else.

It doesn’t take long after you are both effectively immobile to really start packing on the pounds. Having the machine feed you, and moving without effort only removes the last few real calories that you were burning. You are glad that you got most of your conversations out of the way earlier, as you end up spending most of the time with something in your face. Discovering that the chair also has arms for your other needs just made you more confident in your decision.

As you run your pudgy fingers through your growing belly apron, you can’t help but smile. Each arm was growing more flabby and useless, so you’ll enjoy this for as long as you can. You can see your Mom doing much the same thing, but you can tell there is a slight bit of melancholy. You just reached five hundred pounds and that meant you’d have to start working.

“I got you the night shift, so we will have plenty of time during the day to gorge and sleep. “ You can tell she means that, but you were both enjoying the bonding experience. But you were an adult now and that meant honoring your commitments.

The Heart Attack Grill uniform in the Slob District is basically a stretchy food-stained lab coat and surprisingly enough has no problem with you not wearing any pants. What they didn’t tell you is that the main restaurant is closed at night, so you are mainly concerned with supporting the automated drive-through and the VIP members who don’t leave at night.

Pretty quickly you realize that just sitting behind a console and monitoring the VIP member was pretty boring even if it left you plenty of time to stuff your face off the HAG menu. So you start talking with your regulars and get to know them. Malcolm and Jessica are both fifth transfer DJs for the local equivalent of radio, though on opposing stations. They didn’t bother to leave to host their shows, connecting via the chairs. They are very competitive, one’s presence practically mandating the other. The third is another first transfer like you named Ian. He apparently won a contest that got him ten years of VIP, and he was taking full advantage of it.

Not wanting to be alone for the next year, you proposed moving everyone to the big VIP room in the back where you can look in on them in person. That it was getting you a free VIP on the nod was just a happy accident surely, and your boss signed off on it in the name of customer service.

You spent much of your off-hours sleeping to recover from the epic drinking and gorging you do with your new friends. But you make sure to spend time with your Mom each day, forcing down food at any restaurant she chooses and making sure you are both getting unhealthier. The VIP menus were practically pouring fat onto your body, you apron massive breasts essentially shifting to the size of your even larger belly and pinning your arms. You hit 700 in less than three months and each warm inch of flab just makes you more immobile and helpless.

And you have a full batch of the androids to look after each of you. You finally see the male model of the nurse, which is dressed in a similar outfit with a broad chest and a chiseled jaw. They were attending Ian and Malcolm, while the female nurses were attending you and Jessica. All the androids regularly gave massages to your stomachs, and tried to convince you to eat more. They constantly ply you with booze and smokes, reminding you just how sexy that both those habits are.

But while they had stopped short before, this time they go full steam ahead, some of them rubbing their chests against each of you while another provides a sexual release. Ian constantly has one of them with either their hand or their head plunged beneath his blubber, getting him off. You constantly have one of the female nurses either crawling under your own curtain to lick and suck, or they are plunging elongated and vibrating limps into you. The older pair are a bit more restrained, but they are regularly stimulated, cum dripping down to join the waste under your stomachs. You see no reason to moderate and neither it seems does Ian. Both of you seem to have remarkable sexual stamina despite your growing ill-health.

But while you and your friends are making impressive gains, while stinking to high heavens, you are all very competitive people. A discovery of elevating straps allows for the easy elevation of your guts and that led to a rather unique competition. You strain with everything you have, sweat cascading down your inflating face. Ian is across from you doing the same, trying to force out the stomachs full of grease you ate to top up for this. Fecal trench racing was perhaps the sort of thing you come up with when it’s late at night and you’ve been drinking. The first to fill the depression was the winner and would have to face the victor of Jessica and Malcolm in the final.

Your year was half over and you’d hit nearly nine hundred pounds. Your stomach had long since covered over your stumps and started heading toward the end of the chair with a will. You were just starting to spill over the sides. Ian was, further along, nearly a cool half-ton. That additional capacity was enough to take the heat. Still, you got a solid consolation price in the form of your first heart attack of this transition.

“Congratulatio…” The others notice as your nipples grew harder, the pain building along with the pleasurable tension. The look of envy on Ian’s face as you flat line was palpable. He was definitely the king of waste, but you’d rather have this any day.

“Well done Erica. Way to punish that pump. “ Jessica was looking at you with you were coming to realize were bedroom eyes. It was obvious that your commitment to your ill health and gaining had impressed her. She had reached nearly thirteen hundred, being forced to move to a mobility bed along with her unliked other half, which you find just so hot.

“You are already two in, but thank you. Your turn.” Forcing more smoke into your lungs, you feel yourself start to orgasm as your heart starts to beat again. The nurses move back into cram more burgers in your face and work your already tingling lady bits as you look over at Jessica.

You watched as they both strain their way through the competition, a near wave of human waste running down the trenches, neck in neck. When Jessica manages to find a little extra and flushes her bladder, she manages to squeak a win. Ian ends up winning because Jessica strokes out in the clutch, her right eye drooping nearly closed.

“We hear by declare you king shit, long may you reign.” Ian looked so damned pleased, you signal the androids to blow him until he passes out. As he drops off, you can see his smile etched onto his face.

The next six months is a huge parade of gorging, stuffing, and inflating. You get to watch as Jessica and Malcolm get processively unhealthier, their pale and flabby skin seeming to bulge as they start to fill up their mobility beds. Both you and Ian end up in one of your own, just like your Mom, who despite not having VIP is very much keeping pace.

Jessica starts to have more strokes, her face gradually losing its mobility and her sight fading out. Each time it happens, both of you have the androids masturbate you furiously. You can see her skin starting to go gray from all the smoking that she’s doing and as the last days start to really take a toll, she steps up her drinking game and spends the last few weeks before the last heart attack claims her blackout drunk.

Malcolm, not to be outdone, doubles down on stuffing his face with the worst things off the menu. A Cardiac menu death ride inflates him to quite nearly a ton by the end, his blubber cascading down the sides of his bed. His chair is constantly massaging his moobs and his stomach to deal with discomfort, his loss of bladder and bowel control putting an end to your races but it just wasn’t the same without Jessica. His chins gradually combine forces into one and it slowly strangles his brain. He drops off quietly, without much in the way of fan fair, only the flatline drawing your attention to his passing.

That just left Ian and you. Both of you were hundreds of pounds behind those two, closer to half a ton than three-quarters of one. So he challenges you to see who can be brought off the most times. You have certain mechanical advantages, but the task for him was similar since he’s essentially fucking his own fupa the whole time. All the android has to do was stimulate the head. Needless to say, you both have a heart attack partway through, but while you stop, he keeps going. The feeling like a gorilla sitting on his chest only intensifies until he has a second massive coronary and goes out like a champ.

That left you alone and you slow down a bit in those last few weeks, wanting to pass on with your mother rather than in a lonely restaurant. However, upon completion of your year, your manager is so impressed by the reports he got from the VIPs you were looking after, he gives you two tickets to the grand opening of a Final Binge right here in the district.

When you bring the news home, your Mom is elated enough that her drooping left eye even twitches. You regretted not being there for that stroke, but it was clear that she wasn’t going to be making it much past 1600. You were a hundred pounds behind and weren’t much better off.

When you arrive at the grand opening, you see the famous goth lolita android. You had heard about the original on Phobos, but it had taken them decades to get permission to start putting down locations on Mars. The restaurant was famous because they only took people that were in support chairs at a minimum and once you sat down at a table, you were there until you dropped.

“Honey, I’m just so proud of you. You managed to burn through your first transfer in a year and a half. And I’m glad we can go out together. “ You can see her trembling as she forces the smile through her enormous jowls. You were genuinely glad about your experiences and what she had chosen to share.

“I’m so excited. I never thought I’d get here so soon. “ As the android takes your tickets, and welcomes you to your final bing, it moves you over to a table with its own private replicators. As both of your mobility beds set down to table height, it starts to push forth the world’s greasiest pizza, deep-fried cheese sticks dripping, and pitchers of malt liquor mixed with ranch dressing.

“Truly this is killing food. The first to drop wins. “ And with that, the feeding begins as the arms from the table and your beds push your head back and start forcing things down your throat. A needle from the table jabs into each of your massive flabby chests, right into the pipe that leads to the lungs, and it installs a bypass straight out the front to keep you breathing while your neck is full. Apparently just suffocating wasn’t enough.

It forces it down your neck with the equivalent of a chimney sweeps brush and then starts pouring the worst drink man has ever designed down after. More and more food was forced into you with barely time to taste it. Grease covering you is nothing new, the fresh white shirts you both wore are quite ruined and it's only getting started.

You remember the rest in flashes, between the alcohol, the increasing number of strokes, and the effectively rolling heart attack. You feel your veins catch fire as your blood pressure spikes hard and continues to spike with each full pizza forced into your face. You feel the slam of the first one then several more insulin needs into your massive gut, which only spurs you to eat more.

As your left eye drifts off on its own, you catch your mother’s slow-motion train wreck. The panel on the side of her bed starts to show her organs failing in a cascade pattern. Apparently, her kidneys had failed last night and she hadn’t noticed. Her liver started to follow as her blood grew ever more toxic, ironically only her poor circulation and clogged arteries had managed to limit the damage. So when the strain on her blood vessels causes them to burst in mass, it's practically a mercy.

It doesn’t take long, as more and more food is forced through, you feel the defib hit you one last time and your heart just doesn’t start beating again. But that’s fine, you can barely think anyway and the strokes are destroying major sections of your mind. Time for a new one, and you’ll be even less careful with it next time.

Patrick was on his twelfth transfer and feeling a bit burned out. He remembered his first transition, he had been so gung ho then. Cramming food now his throat until he couldn’t, drinking until he passed out, and then waking up to do it again. Rushing his way into being a huge fat pile, so unhealthy that he can barely breathe. Part of that had been his friends, who had always been competitive gainers looking to build up large nest eggs of consumption points. Their reasons varied, but he’d gone along because he’d wanted to keep up.

But now, he had most of his points tied up in investments and his friends were all getting involved in their own ventures. And so he had decided to stay home and really commit to his own laziness this life. As he stepped out of his clothes for the last time, he examined himself in the mirror. He was a tall man with freckles, but he had managed to get a solid starter belly going. He was finally starting to see real softness across his entire body and that had just been while he made his arrangements.

He had put an array of different foods and drinks into the replicator with orders to pick something at random and provide it any time the chair indicated he wasn’t full. He had gotten the extended support chair with the extra options, including a vaporizer for weed. He placed it in front of a holo player that had been placed so his belly wouldn’t ever obscure it. He had even set the player to work of attention control, changing channels when he wasn’t paying attention and staying in place when he was.

As he slid his naked body into the support chair, he appreciated what would be his last movements. Once he was reclining with his legs spread, the two last attachments started to move into position. The first was the waste pipe, which was an expanding vacuum tube that slowly worked into his tight anus before expanding open. It was uncomfortable but oddly erotic, the pressure on his prostate having his erection pressing against his belly overhang. That made it easier for the second suction tube to lower onto his penis, one that had an extension designed like a mouth. It always surprised him just how wet and warm it was, even before it started to suck and pulse. Far more fun than a catheter.

He moved his hand for a final time and activated the holo. That would be the last time he’d move anything but his mouth until his body gave up on him. The chair would clean him, care for him, and feed him. The chair would even chew and help him swallow. Just the thought of that had him cumming down the tube.

==Show #1==

The front of the room is filled with a studio. Behind the desks are two floating fat piles who have been forced into a suit and pantsuit respectively. Both of them have flushed cheeks and a pair of oxygen bars to give them the breath to do their jobs, along with feeding tubes they hit whenever they aren’t speaking.

“Welcome one in all to the Gravid Dome. The Eating Sports Association is proud to present a day of competitive consumption and hedonism the likes of which we haven’t seen in years. I’m Malcolm Taylor and I am joined by my co-host and former professional eating champion, Rebecca Maxwell. What do we have for our viewers tonight?” He is barely able to glance over to his co-host, but the support chair shifts to make it easier.

“Glad you asked Malcolm. We have two of the most hotly anticipated events this season. First, there is a competitive heart attack event between the Champion Eric ‘Coronary’ Carter and the Challenger, ‘Two Stroke’ Megan Andrews. The Champ is a heavy favorite this season, having really focused on hypertension.“ The screen pulls up the two competitors, both of them looking incredibly unhealthy but less fat than Patrick would have expected, barely six hundred pounds. Both of them are sitting in regular chairs and are pictured with crutches for getting around.

“Still you can’t count Two Stroke out. She has more plaque in her veins than any of the other competitors in the League and a solid five pack a day habit. That Lucky Strike sponsorship is really paying dividends.“ Malcolm caught back, a momentary pale flush as he fought through chest pains visible on his face. Patrick had heard that anchors learned to mimic that as part of their training, but it seemed quite real. He enjoyed having pizza forced down his face, while the hands are careful to never obstruct his view as they work the jaw.

“Each of the competitors is provided with a regulation heart and they have two weeks to pile on all the abuse as they get ready for the big day while under observation. They’d have two hours to cause just as many heart attacks as they can today. Whoever has the most flat lines at the end of the competition is the winner. If the heart is completely dead that is an extra five, but it's a dangerous move, as it can mean an end of your season if the med droid doesn’t get to you in time.“ The screen behind them goes through a rough animation that shows the competitors getting up and moving to a seat in front of conveyors piled high with food. They shove food in and occasionally grab their chests, before struggling up to eat again.

“Always exciting. But the main event tonight is going to a Last Feed Match between two legends of the game. Paula Woods and Sarah Stacks. This was the event that’s been more than a year in the making. That was your event wasn’t it Rebecca?” A Last Feed, those were rare enough to be events and this was a grudge match. Patrick didn’t know much about sports, but he’d been hearing about these two since he was a kid. The idea that’d be able to watch them eat themselves to death live was enough to get him filling both tubes in joy.

“Yes. And it means what you think it means. Two superstars on the edge of life meeting in the arena to eat themselves into the ground. The last one still breathing loses. The rules state you have to be able to survive five days without the feed. But that means you can be pretty broken and still be able to compete. There is an art to it.” And it sounded like she missed it. Patrick had always been compassionate, which made it darkly shameful how much he enjoyed unhealth. It probably would have been more of an issue if everyone wasn’t so on board for it.

“So join us this Friday for the event of the year. “ His growing excitement widens his pupils and the holo sets an alarm to switch back for the event. But he wasn’t much in the point spreads and hypertension rates, so it moved to another channel.

=Commerical #1=

A nearly six hundred pound woman was sitting in a chair in front of the camera. She had folded her hand over her stomach to show off her tattoo and the 54 on it, which marked her one of the high fliers.

“Hi, I’m Janise Paul. Ladies, Gentlemen. Do you love a big man, but get frustrated when he just can’t quite reach? I know I do.“ You can see a pair of actors who are massive but still mobile male mounting the woman from behind, and the look of exasperation on her face as he starts to move without any real penetration.

“Well, I’m here to tell you about the Cortex Male Extension. A revolutionary new product that encapsulates your man’s existing organ and thanks to our patented neural interface it provides better than full sensation while providing full fluid transfer just in case someone is looking to get pregnant the old fashioned way. And the best part is, it won’t ever soften.“ A robotic hand takes the product out of and installs the truly impressive tool over the man’s more average one. This time when he goes in and places his stomach on her ass, you can hear the sound of squelching and her face goes from surprise to ecstasy quickly, while her eyes are rolling up.

“It comes in horse, elephant, and steel beam sizes for those hard to reach places. Order now, and we’ll throw in the deluxe testicle booster to make sure his danish has all the cream you want.” You see the woman who is still being fucked in the background’s stomach starts to visibly swell. They are both obviously sweating piles of fat, but they are enjoying themselves too much to stop.

“Cortex, because you wouldn’t batter down a door with a pencil.” Patrick made a note to look into that during his next life, as that sounded like it could be a lot of fun assuming you didn’t rupture something. A hose with beer slid into his mouth and started pouring beer down his neck. A pitcher would have required him to make an effort to chug.

=Show #2 (Talk Show) =

“Today on Ella, a concerned mother, and her no-account son.” The announcer calls as the camera pans into a studio. The studio audience was entirely made up of support chairs, but none as massive as the one holding up Ella. She was nearly a ton, the custom chair being nearly the size of a mobile bed but more stylish. A nearly immobile fat pile who was just riding the end of her current life, she was a serious advocate for an active gainer lifestyle. A voice box sticks out of the flaps of skin near her neck, to let her talk without having to go through that troublesome breathing business.

“Oh, Ella. I just don't know what to do, my son Nathan was always such a good little boy. He always did his eating homework, barely moved even before he lost his mobility, and always did his best to stuff his face whenever we had a family meal. But ever since he made his first transition, he’s changed.” The mother floats out on a mobility bed, several trays of food being shoved down her neck as her own voice box provides the narration. She isn’t quite in Ella’s league, but her huge fat pile flows over her legs and completely obscures even her feat. The automated hands that were feeding her just kept her mouth open and the food of a size she could choke down.

“It has been nearly six years and he can still waddle Ella. His father and I have transitioned three times since then, and he’s not even chair-bound yet. It feels like I’ve failed as a mother.“

“Well, we can’t have that. So let’s bring out your son and see if we can talk him around.” The nearly six hundred youth struggled to waddle onto the stage, taking a good couple minutes and exciting a few of the audience if the catcalls are any indication. He collapses into a provided coach as soon as he can and takes a few moments to catch his breath. Patrick starts to drift on the series, as that shuffle had obviously been meant to attract housewives looking for a thrill.

=Commercial #2 (Movie Trailer)=

As the channel flips again, Patrick felt a vape pipe slide into his throat and he started to breathe in a vaporized mix of steam doped with enough THC to have him feeling fine. It was helping his overstuffed stomach settle. He was feeling pretty calm and he knew the munchies would follow soon. His attention is drawn when the booming voice of a movie narrator seems to fill his apartment.

“From the Studio that brought you Of Blockages and Burgers: the Heart Attack Grill Story now presents to you a story about a young couple with a dream. A dream that would put them into conflict with the highest rungs of society.” A pair of photogenic young people strapped into support chairs are each pointing out diagrams on a holographic display between them. There was what looked like building plans and then shifting to designs.

“We are just trying to give people something that they want. So many people just transition at home or just randomly at some table. Some even just elect to have the transfer triggered manually. People should be able to go out surrounded by others doing the same, in the glorious spectacle.” The young man spoke with clarity, his voice box provided a ringing rhetorical flourish even as his chair kept stuffing food into his face. He and his female counterpart are floating before a table and a Senatorial inquiry. One of the senators, a powerfully built woman who seemed to still have use of her arms lifted up a shaking finger to make a point.

“Mr. Soras, these restaurants are a cheat. Each transition is something that should be earned, with each assistant technology only being provided when necessary. Too many of our young people are already using the support chairs as a crutch long before they have actually lost mobility. They haven’t felt what is like to really waddle, you feel the leaden weight of your arms as you struggle to shove just one more dish in. I won’t have it.” Senator Marsha Gorge declaimed as her face grew redder and redder. The massive coronary that punctuated her rant all but put a nail in the coffin of Final Binge.

“But when all seemed lost, they received a call from Phobos that would change everything. So come and see how the last restaurant you’ll ever need got its start in Final Binge: Last One Out Loses.” He could feel excitement even between the alcohol and drug-soaked haze, as he kept snacking. Just because he was full was no reason to stop eating.

=Show #3 (Animated Kids Show)=

The channel surfing continued until they hit a kid’s network. He recognized the art style of the animated feature from his own childhood and he couldn’t fight the grin despite it using muscles.

A pair of obvious obese children are sitting dejectedly on a bench, each of them snacking out of a small bin that they have beside them. The theatrical sigh seems a bit much but it was obviously intended for unsubtle audiences.

Along comes, a friendly-looking darker-skinned man in a sharp black suit floating down the road in his support chair. He is obviously eating chocolates out of a box when he notices the children’s distress.

“Hello, kids. What seems to be the matter?” They look up and even stop eating for a few moments. They looked over at the sharp dressed man. It takes a few moments for the children to swallow before the little girl answers. Patrick knows that this is Swollen Suzy and her brother Billy Belly, from a few of the other cartoons they starred in.

“Our parents are off with Hellen Heartattack and Sophia Stroke and they said we couldn’t come. It’s not fair. Why should grownups get to have all the fun?” She went to kick a rock by her foot, before collapsing back wheezing from the effort. Despite the simplified art style, they make sure to show her face flushing red.

“Unfortunately, those two aren’t for children. Don’t mistake me, they will be good friends to you once you are all grown. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t have fun. Let me introduce myself, I’m Danny Diabetes. And all you need to do to make sure I come around is eating sweets, isn’t that fun.“ The nods he gets are as furious as the two lethargic tots are capable of, their double chins bulging with each iteration.

“Anyone can have fun with diabetes after all, and since I’m sure you love your sweets, you are probably on your way to having me around anyway. But since we all know that more is better, have some buckets of sugar to help you on your way.” And the mechanical arms gave each of the children a bucket filled with processed sugar. They didn’t pause but tipped their head back and started pouring.

Once they were leaning back and groaning from all the sugar, the boy noticed something about Danny. “Mister, why don’t you have any feet?” And that gets a smile from Danny, as the focus goes to the lack of anything at the end of Danny’s fat trunks of legs.

“Clever Billy. Let me ask you. Do you hate walking? Or doing anything at all for yourself?” The leading question is so obvious, that he was living proof. Patrick felt more beer being poured down as his mellow slowly faded, but it was still making these cartoons fun.

“Yes.” The two children respond emphatically. They were obviously lazy like good children were supposed to be after all.

“Well, when I come around I can do a trick for you if you are good and make sure to eat all your sweets and cakes. Your feet get nice and dark like me, and then I can just pop in and take them. Suddenly you get one of these lovely chairs and you won’t have to do a thing ever again. Doesn’t that sound like fun.” Another exaggerated agreement.

“That does. I can’t wait to lose my feet, Mr. Diabetes. That sounds swell.” That gets a laugh from all of them, as it is her catchphrase. A line of text reads, this episode of Swollen Suzy sponsored by Chairco. That made sense.

=Show #4 (The Main Event)=

A few hours later, having settled into a stupor from food and drink, Patrick is awoken by the alarm. Normally he would have been committed enough to ignore them, but the Main Event was coming on. He didn’t want to miss this. The holo started up right on time.

“Our contestants are being wheeled into the arena. Each of them is fitted with their automated defibrillator harness and had crutches in hand.” Both of the contestants looked even worse than their publicity shots. They both were already sweating, their faces flushed from the exertion of sitting up on their own. They were comparably massive for people who were still mobile, their stomachs hanging down well to cover their knees and every spare inch stuffed with enough blubber to qualify them as baby wells. None of this hid the look of determination on both their piggy faces as the starting gun sounded.

“And they are off.” You watch as each of them forces their bulk up, and as they pant, they start to waddle a hundred feet to the bench that sits in front of the massive conveyor that contains their binge. Patrick watches as the champ takes a slight lead, a four-inch height difference offering him a larger gait when he waddles. But just from the way the challenger is struggling and spiking the blood pressure monitor has her neck and neck.

When both of them flopped down on the benches they both went face-first into the food, the sound of a flatline and the score counter incrementing is more than enough explanation. The defibs spin up and the shock gets them going again. Taking a moment to clear their faces, both go full hog. Faces down they shove food in as quickly as they can. No chewing just swallowing as they both drop their canes.

Necks bulging as they reach out to force more and more food into themselves. It doesn’t take long for the Champ to drop again, veins in his neck straining as he strives to choke down food while he still has muscle control. He drops hard as one hand covered in food grabs at his chest.

“Now that’s just showboating. He should be preparing to cram more. “ Malcolm’s voice spoke through his own food. It was clear that he wasn’t impressed.

“You hate to see that. He’s obviously not feeling threatened and playing for a crowd is just bad form.” And it might have backfired as Two-Stroke was also down and after she is revived, she doesn’t wait a moment before she’s back at it. The Champion notices and gets back to it with a will. Back and forth they go, and even with all her efforts, the Champion pulls ahead. He just has more clogged veins and more experience.

Their stomachs start to pack taught beneath their blubber aprons, each straining to fit more in and hoping their steady diet of grease will help win them the contest. You can see the oddly mottled pattern of sickly flesh for some getting closer to their last fall. The time counts down and even the announcers are silent.

And in the final moments, the challenger tips over for the last time. The defib goes off again and again, but it's clear it's having no effect. As medical support rushes the field it's clear she’s done it. “She’s pulled out the win and if they can save her, she will be riding the upset into the playoffs. It would seem piling on her habits was just enough to wreck the pump entirely. A woman to watch. But now we get the part that everyone is tuning into.”

The footage shifts to another and far large auditorium. Actual crowds fill the stands, hundreds of support chairs floating in support of the two contenders. You can hear the cheers of the crowd as the two massive mobile beds slide onto the field. They were barely floating, as the huge masses of fat that look more like piles with a head partly hidden in their own bulk.

The camera pulls close up on each and they are obviously on death’s door. As if to highlight the fact two readouts highlighting failing and failed organs pull up next to the competitors. The announcers, now visibly more excited, are reading the information.

“Now this is the rumble to remember, a feast of farewell. These two competitors have been dogging each other's steps for decades, as they worked up the ranks. “ Malcolm was obviously trying to impress the crowd with the history behind the competition. But their attention was on the scroll as the two competitors took their positions. The custom chairs are obviously set up just for this competition.

“Neither of the two competitors have any pancreas or kidney function left. Paula Woods is even in the first stages of liver failure, while Sarah Stacks has actual lung cancer which is something you just don’t see every day.” The former Champion speaks about those who came after with a sense of nostalgia, like she wishes she was still in there. That they are each more than a ton, with their massive bulk crushing their organs practically went without saying. Their fat is hanging off the sides and front after all.

“Let it never be said these two don’t take each other seriously. And the judges are choosing liquid feed, oh that is interesting.” As they are placed in the center of the arena, a pair of hoses are secured and slowly fed down their throats. The mixture was always changing, as to not give any competitor an edge. This would take the chairs out of the equation as the liquid food and drink was forced into their massive stomachs. Once they are done, the judges clear the field and there is a countdown from three.

And just like that, liquid lard, ranch dressing, and some manner of grain alcohol starts getting forced down their throats. You can visibly see the pressure start to push down the pipes and the stomachs of the competitors visibly inflate. A wireframes for each competitor, shows which organs have failed and which have still to fail.

With every passing second, they fill and as more sugar and salt hit their systems, reading starts to move out of the yellow into the red. You can see them struggling to breath around the tube, to force in enough air through their noses even as tens of thousands of calories are forced into their bodies.

Organs start to fail and their strain is forced on the others. Blood vessels burst and arteries rupture as their bodies strain and start to truly shatter. They turn grey and their eyes start to roll back as a series of powerful strokes run roughshod through the only systems that are working.

And it comes down to a photo-finish. With Sarah’s lack of lung capacity had forced even more strain, her inability to cough was wrecking her lungs even further and having her drowned on dry land.

“And that…<grunt>...was one hell of a match.” And it appeared both of the announcers were joining in with sympathetic heart attacks, their own excitement pushing them over as they cut to commercial.

A satisfying contest indeed. Patrick feels it was well worth his days and he can only hope there is more and better to come. His support chair is already hallowed in discarded food bowls and drink coasters, but he neither notices or cares. He has his torso covered in grease and the chair will clean him in the evening without him having to lift a finger.

The days go by with more holos and food slowly packing his form as his muscles atrophy. The chair occasionally shifted him and moved him, but he did nothing to help. Every hour another load is massaged out of his balls by the artificial mouth, only to be joined by his urine whenever he felt the need. Slowly he lost the ability to control either reaction, making him ever more dependent on the chair.

The days flowed into months as he remained stationary, not reacting when the chair filled him full of muscle relaxants to quiet the twitches of dying muscles. Nor when the insulin pump is installed. Finally an air bar containing a twenty percent mix of the vapor mixed with THC is placed in his nose so he does not even have to smoke.

As his weight started to creep up higher and higher, as if he was literally being pumped up with butter, he acknowledged that he was helpless. Not because he could not lift his fat as was so commonly the case, but because there was nothing with which to do the lifting. Only the muscles around his heart, lungs, and eyes had any function. And if the chair could have taken over there, he’d have had that too.

He is nearly seven hundred pounds when he has his first heart attack. Not an active thing, just a slow progression of clogging after a steady diet of burgers, pizza, and various other foods dripping in grease. His most recent snack of choice was buttered candied bacon, so perhaps it shouldn't’ have been a surprise. He survives it, but barely. He is far smaller than he has ever been when this unhealthy, his constant lethargy only making everything else ten times worse.

As his friends drop by to see the absolute mess he’s made of himself, he can’t help but feel that this was a great vacation before grunting around another burger. He’s cum again.

I moved to add to the setting. I am not going to really focus on kids, as it limits where I can post it, beyond the sort of PSA style things like the last.

As for Hard Drugs, Mars condemns such things. It is too easy after all. There is a small sub culture that goes in for them, but they tend to get their points penalized pretty heavily.

Also not super keen on force. The point of the setting is to do an upbeat deathfeedist and health issues, where everyone is really stoked about just how sick they are getting. Where if someone doesn't eat themselves to death by 24, they are a complete loser.

And I will continue to add stuff in this vein from time to time. I haven't really found anything besides FC-Punk that really fits in that genre. I will tell you what, if you can find something like that not from FC-punk, Bard of Lard, or fatty-writes, I will be doing short 1k commissions.

Trying to breath life back into this board.

Not sure where else to put this, but is anyone out there interested in roleplaying in this genre on second life?

>>459
Another really great double update, you really have a talent for writing! Well done and hope to see more!

>>459

Alphasigporkchop has good health related content on deviantart. Andreas end is the darkest but his others are good as well

I had forgotten about that. So I owe you a 1 to 2k Future Shocker short. No kids and no non con. Other than that, sky is the limit. Sort of wish you left a name.

>>535

My request:

Girl named Paege, age 19, goes to college and hurts her back. Moves back home to her country town, ends up bed bound for a few weeks. Gains a lot of weight, ends up hurting back badly again. Then just make it as dark as you’d like. Ending in her death. The harsher detail the better. Thank you. Also I have some other good stories saved so you may have a couple more short commissions ;)

>>535

Also please make Paege a total bitch. Also please make her decline very drawn out and painful

I had sort of hoped to stay in my scifi setting. How about she had been taking time off from gaining to get an education only to accidentally damage her back and rather than go through the effort to recover she eats herself to dealth to get a new unbroken body.

Yeah that’s totally fine with me. You’re the artist

>>498
In case anyone does, look for the group Dying to be Fat in SL.

>>535
Here is my suggestion:

A weight loss clinic that specializes in treating the extremely obese. Except they have no desire to actually help patients lose weight. Their real goal is to keep patients immobile so that they can milk the patients' families for money and the patients can't physically leave to stop the payment cycle.

Since you are looking for a scifi setting, you can make this into cyberpunk. "I'm sorry, we can't cancel your subscription until you stop using our service!"

>>537
>>525
Thanks! I'm so glad you like it! To be honest I feel I wrapped it up to quickly, and I have ever intention of taking another stab at some darker more morbid weight gain, but I haven't had the free time as of late.

Future Shock: Back From College

Paege was on her first transfer and had managed to convince her parents to help her attend an old fashioned university. She would be able to really pack on the pounds there, as the university was committed to the old school vibes, but while she could absorb the needed information through sublime learning, this place would be one where she could drink, smoke, and have just as much sex as she could handle.

She indulged to her fullest, embracing these vices just as much as she had embarrassed gluttony. The party ended during her Sophmore year when she tried diving into the pool from a third-story balcony while blackout drunk. She broke a few ribs, but more critical was the damage she’d done to her back. She wasn’t quite bad enough to qualify for another transfer but even the nanites will take weeks to properly put her back together.

Unfortunately, as she’d lost full motor control over everything below the neck, so she was placed in a mobility chair. Something that was banned on campus which that had her losing her slot for Sophmore year. That did not have her in a good mood when she made her way back to her nowhere town.

As she slid into her parent’s house, she noticed both her parents waiting for her in their mobility beds. Both her mother and father are more than a ton of reeking lard, their fat faces being filled with unhealthy dishes, and any moment they weren’t consuming, they were smoking their way through massive cigars. As they got larger, it got harder and harder to tell them apart. But the voice box that addressed her was female.

“Terrible what happened dear, but it is good to have you at home.” The beds were constantly pumping pure oxygen directly into their lungs, trying to keep them alive despite their best efforts. You generally didn’t see them this large for long, so she’d be having some time by herself when her parents went for a transition.

Paege managed to hold in her scowl until she makes it to her room. She had never intended to come back, figuring she’d move into an apartment after College with some of her new college friends. And she’d scorched the earth with every one of these small-town losers, so there wasn’t much to do. Busying herself with MarsNet, she doesn’t notice the carts that slowly start sliding into her room or the XL branded beers that find their way to her hands as she loses herself in entertainment.

When she doesn’t show up to dinner, it just confirms to her parents that she has grown too spoiled and aloof during her time away. They just smile as they signal the house’s AI to start bringing in plenty of her favorite food and drinks, enhanced with as many as calories as possible. She had always been such a greedy girl and it wouldn’t take much to push her into a downward spiral.

Over the next few weeks, Paege ignores her parents and stays in her room enjoying various media and entertainments while constantly intoxicated. She’s self-medicating with alcohol while chaining through cigarettes, each blackening her lungs further and making her more lethargic. The chair has set up pipes to handle her waste and takes care of all her bodily needs, and it was constantly plying her with her favorite foods.

Without her constant diet of energetic sex and other physical activities, and being surrounded by her own favorite foods being fed to her by the mobility chairs, she starts putting on weight quickly. She gets notes about physical therapy from her doctor, but she ignores the small exercises she was supposed to start doing. The nanites might have been reconnecting her nerves and repairing the bone, but she will need to work up her muscles. Her parents look in on her through their own beds, watching her slowly inflate and making sure that she’s supplied with larger and larger clothing so it won’t be noticed.

Needless to say, when in three weeks all the repairs are completed, she pulls herself out of the chair and stumbles up. Her leg muscles have atrophied and already three sheets to the wind though, she is incredibly unsteady. It isn’t helped that she’s nearly fifty pounds heavier from the nearly three weeks of constant eating and drinking some of the most calorie-dense foods her parents can find.

Huffing and puffing, she pulls herself towards the bathroom to look at what’s really happened to her. Paege knows she’s grown larger, but refusing to spend more than moments at a time sober has prevented her from realizing how much she’s really plumped up. By the time she pulls herself into the bathroom, she can see the signs of fate and cellulite covering all every part. She’d had a bit of a stomach from all the beer in college, but it had been nothing like this.

Her parents were out for their own transfers, and they wouldn’t be back for a few days. She had time to get out and maybe get her head on straight. She knew she didn’t have the willpower to resist. As she stumbles out towards the door, she slips on a beer bottle she’d dropped sometime before and lands hard on her back again. The feeling of her discs popping like bubble wrap and pain just pouring out of her back has her bellowing to her chair to pick her up.

As she gradually slid back into the mobility chair, she felt painkillers being injected and relaxation coming over as she starts to really sober up. She looks down a body that is growing fatter and she considered what options she has. She’d need to recover from this new injury, and then slowly and painfully recover. Working out, not snacking, and even...shudder...eating healthy.

The other option was to go for another transfer before her next year. She had less than 10 months to eat herself to death if she wanted to catch up with her friends. She knew that would be tight, but if she went with that, she earned a fair number of consumption points to spend if she could pull it off. She considers which way she’d go, but she knew which one her parents would support.

“Alright house. We are going to start some serious eating. I want full gorging protocols and I don’t want anything that hasn’t been dipped in butter or deep-fried.” The house’s AI replies with its own acknowledgment. The replicator starts to churn out more and more food, along with sugared heavy cream. As the carts start to move, she has the chair move back into the main part of the house.

By the time her parents returned, they find their daughter in their den. Paege is being aggressively fed by the chair, her stomach stretched to the point when it is shiny and red. She’s surrounded by a cloud of cigarette smoke, as anytime she isn’t stuffing something in she was smoking to steady her stomach.

“That is my girl.” They moved onto the couch next to her chair, the house providing their first meal of the current transference. Pitchers of beer and massive burgers stretch on carts, so they can start their own indulgence.

“Thanks...Dad.” Paege’s clothing is stained and tattered, mostly abandoned in the push of her own binge. Both of her parents could tell she was in pain, pushing her to the edge of her own capacity which showed the ambition they had always tried to encourage. She was doing everything she could to gain, and she was obviously slamming down every ounce of fat and sugar she could fit into her body.

Her parents do everything they can to further encourage her gain. Every time she is less than painfully full, more food is crammed into it. She was far from the most pleasant housemate, but that only pushed them to make sure her mouth was always full. Her stomach went from a bulging ball into a full belly apron as her body seems to inflate with fat. Every part of her body filling with cellulite and fat.

By the third month of her effective immobility, she is nearly four hundred pounds, wheezing between bites of the deep-fried butter that has been dipped in melted chocolate. It wasn’t the tastiest of the food items that she could have been stuffing down, but it was among the least healthy that their house replicator could be convinced to make. Anytime she wasn’t cramming more bars of sugar and fat, huge pitchers of heavy cream and sugar are poured down her neck. An air bar keeps her awake enough to eat, but her stomach was in a constant state of strain and vague nausea.

Every spare moment is filled with a cigarette, her habit has grown to a five-packs a day. Her lungs grow worse with each passing day. The smoker’s cough has black tar covering her chest only to be washed away by more food and drink. She is doing everything she can do destroy her own health and starts to come to a head midway through that month.

Her chest pains grew every day as she did everything she could to cram her body with cholesterol and sugar. Her diabetes is over treated by insulin shots, trying to further spur her feeding, but it is the chest pains onto which she pins her hopes. When she starts to feel her left arm goes numb, she can help but smile. She even has the automatic pleasuring routines start, to put her system under even more strain.

Her parents look over, as the emergency sounds start to echo as the heart monitor starts to flatline and the defibrillator starts to fire up. There were ways to disable those routines, but they’d penalize your consumption point totals and that was something she couldn’t afford as a first transfer.

“Well done dear. Barely four months, and you have had your first attack. And those lungs sound pretty bad too.” Paege could hear the pride in their speech as they forced their own food down their necks. They were starting to really push their own gain, as their stomachs fill their own laps.

She comes hard as her heart starts up again, the endorphin rush just adding to the orgasm. Her parents aren’t bothered, as their own debauchery barely paused these days and it was one more advantage to not having children in the house. The twenty minute cool down slowly ends as she coughs her lungs and enjoys the afterglow, the pain just making the experience better somehow.

Her pancreas barely survives the fifth month as she crests five hundred pounds and starts to really be able to back in huge amounts of food. Hypoglycemia gradually steals the feeling in her extremities even as her flesh darkens. Her insulin consumption seems to grow in leaps and bounds, the insulin shots coming fast and heavy. There is a growing sense of masochism that follows her aches and pains, one that is only encouraged by her nearly constant masturbation.

The second heart attack at month six is even stronger and follows with her chair indicating suspicious growths in her right lung, that it detects as tumors. That only causes her to smoke more, knowing how many points a fully developed case of lung cancer will get her. Her oxygen intake keeps being forced higher to keep her alive even as each breath starts to feel like knives. She’s more than six hundred and fifty pounds of reeking blubber, her habits growing more desperate as her time starts to run down.

She cancels her food orders and instead turns to tube feeding, something that she’d likely have avoided if she was feeling the time crunch. A tube filled with flavored lard, butter, and oils run down her throat, the systems pumping her full almost to bursting with the liquid and the taste is largely ignored. She spends a few points to get a smoking hole put into her neck so she can continue to smoke even while being pumped full of the fat and oil.

From that moment on, she’s basically a passenger in her own body. More and more is forced into her each day, only pushing her gain further. Her belly apron covers up her own legs, even as her feet start to turn black. More and more of her body is either covered in layers or rolls of flab or being removed as they lose too much circulation to stay.

The last three months a sprint, each day adding pounds of a form that was rapidly approaching a blob. Even as her chins grew and merged, they just let her head sink into the general fat mass. She barely noticed when she lost bowel control, the chair has long since taken over those functions.

By month nine she is more than half-ton, her extremities gone and her heart struggling to beat with the sugared sludge she called blood and through arteries hard enough to pass as concrete. She had been moved over to a massive mobility bed like her parent’s previous ones, sitting in a near-constant stupor from the pain and alcohol she had turned back to in these final few months. The pain grows worse as she tries to breathe through the soup that is her lungs, the tumors growing with each puff.

However, it was neither the failing heart nor the tar filled lungs that ended Paege. As her ninth month came to a close, she started to have strokes. Not just minor ones, but major ones that started to rob her of thought and function. Her parents spend each day proudly watching as she slowly collapsed until the last one triggered a burst blood vessel in her brain and sends her off to her new transfer. She is relieved as her thoughts fade into darkness, she wants to see her friends again and knows that she will appreciate them all the more for their absence.

That took longer than I thought. Hope you enjoy.

>>571
Enjoy I did! Great work!

Present tense is pretty unpleasant to read.

>>593
I had the same issue

Bryan slapped his gut down on the counter as he forced another burger into his face. He loved working at Greasy Burger. It was a great way to really pack on the pounds while racking up extra consumption points, and the grease was great for his skin. This was his fifth transition and his friend had finally gotten them slots at a downtown location, well outside the areas designated for kids. There wasn’t much call for the register as most people just slid into a booth or up to a table set up for mobility chairs.

Nathan was working in the back, but he was coming up with a specialty order filling one of the robotic trays when they both spotted a newbie stepping through the door. You could always spot the first transitions, from the way they moved like they weren’t used to walking or the almost intoxicated look they got at the absence of all those lovely aches and pains they were used.

Bryan couldn’t help but smile as the firstie slid into a booth and started looking at a menu. Nathan didn’t even argue as he sent out the special order and took over the register, Bryan’s gut sliding its grease-covered ways across the counter as he waddled towards his new customer. He was nearly three hundred and fifty pounds, which was barely enough to start waddling, but he had a habit of exaggerating a bit.

He could tell when he caught the younger man’s eye and from the bashful smile, as he looks away, it didn’t look like he was objecting to the attention. He slid into the booth and just let his fat wobble for a moment. Breathing in a little more heavily than needed, he looked over at what he hoped would be a new regular.

“So I haven’t seen you around here before. What’s your name?” He seemed a bit shy, better not come on too strong. His first wasn’t so far back he couldn’t remember the confusion.

“Jeff...I’m new around here. I just got my first apartment down the block.” Ah, a local, good. That meant he could be showing up well into the loss of his mobility. And he could watch all those unfortunate muscles disappear under delicious fat.

“Jeff, I’m Bryan. And how you like some advice? I can see from that one on your palm that this is your first time and that can be difficult. “ Bryan was keeping his voice down, so he wouldn’t be broadcasting that to the whole restaurant.

“Sure.” And he was blushing, that was adorable. Bryan would definitely have to take special care of this one. He motioned to one of the nearby robots to bring out a Gorger Meal. It was a pair of triple bacon cheeseburgers, a large platter of fries dripping with greasy, and a half-gallon Lardshake.

“Some people like to take their first transition easy. Just let the pounds slowly creep up on them while they experience mobility for the first time in years. But that isn’t you is it Jeff, you a man with ambition.” Bryan was frankly fantastic at his job, and his own proclivities only made him that much better at it. As the pile of food was placed in front of Jeff, he could tell he wasn’t impressed. It probably hadn’t been more than a week since this would have seemed like a snack.

“You have to remember that your stomach is starting out small. I know this doesn’t seem like much, but you are going to have to really push if you are going to finish it in one sitting. Start really stretching out that stomach and put down some serious calories.” Bryan could tell as the smells hit Jeff’s noise and reflexes towards gluttony he’d built over years kicked right in. He started with the fries, just cramming in fist fulls at once. Bryan would have brought out their ranch and cheese dipping sauce, but this was just his first day.

“At a boy, the faster you eat the less time your body has to tell you its full.” Bryan slid out of his side of the booth and slipped over to Jeff’s, turning partially to face the young man as he kept stuffing in fried potatoes in between chugging down shakes. It made him so proud, and the way Jeff wasn’t afraid of wearing some of his food was getting him hot.

“So full.” Jeff started flagging during his second burger, his stomach just starting to tent along with other things. Bryan wasn’t going to have it stop now. He pressed his own fat up against Jeff, and reached out for that final bit of burger.

“Now now. We can’t give up, now can we?” And as Bryan slowly fed him the last massive burger, he could tell that Jeff would be coming back tomorrow.

Weeks turned to months as Jeff kept coming back to the Greasy Burger. Not for every meal but often enough to be marked as a regular and somehow always when Bryan was working. Bryan couldn’t be more pleased.

As the six-month mark rolled around, Bryan was floating in his mobility chair, nearly seven hundred pounds. He preferred to let it go longer and really drag his fat around but his constant diet of grease had given him a couple of heart attacks, and he wanted to last long enough to see Jeff really grow.

As Jeff waddled into the Greasy Burger, his canes slamming into the ground, Bryan couldn’t help but smile. He had gone from less than a hundred and fifty pounds to more than five hundred in less than six months. He had eaten everything Bryan could cram down his throat and more anytime he wasn’t at the Burger.

As he waddled shakily into the booth, Bryan knew that he was getting more and more unsteady on his feet. They had made sure that he got as little exercise as possible, spending his nights watching tv and constantly snacking. He couldn’t have any muscle getting in the way of all those lovely gains.

Jeff was even wearing the utility kilt that Bryan had bought for him, so he could show him something he’d been saving for a special occasion. They hadn’t formally put a label on their relationship, but there had been enough sex when they were both physically capable of it that they were comfortable with each others bodies.

As Jeff panted and tried to get his breath back, Bryan floated over. Nathan was on his next transfer, but the computer systems could manage for a few minutes. Tray after tray started moving heaped down with all the greasy food that their chain was known for.

“Who's my big man.” Jeff smiled as Bryan used their pet name, as he started having food shoveled into his face by the tables robotic hands. He didn’t bother making the effort himself, that would burn calories and the chairs would be doing this for him soon. He did seem surprised as Jeff triggered a function that only the non-family restaurants had. A tube slid up under his kilt and shredded his underwear, before slowly forcing itself into his anus. It slowly filled the passage and then opened out into a rather ingenious bit of plumping.

“I can tell you are surprised, but why make you get up and go when this will handle things for you and speaking of the handle.” The pleased smile that crossed Jeff’s face as the second tube, shaped like a mouth slowly worked its way onto Jeff’s rapidly stiffening member. It would handle the liquid waste as well as give a rather convincing blow job.

Whoever came up with that one was a genius, and he didn’t know an immobile man who didn’t have that mod for their chair unless they were raising kids. It lacked the passion of Bryan’s own efforts, but it more than made up for that in persistence while also making sure Jeff wouldn’t have to get up at all.

“Bryan…<gulp>....you are too good to me. I can already feel my chest hurting.” And Bryan couldn’t help but grin at that, his own chest pains throbbing in sympathy. Two hearts struggling to beat as one. Jeff had worn a white t-shirt, so it could get covered with food and sweat, and show it all.

And Jeff didn’t get up for nearly fifteen hours, going from gorging to lying in a food coma, and back again anytime he had the slightest room. He could hear the encouraging sounds of the other patrons, all working on their own girth. Bryan was glad the shy young man who he had started feeding was really coming into his own. When Jeff finally had that heart attack, Bryan was there, though his shift had ended hours ago. The restaurant defibrillators got his heart started again, and the rough round of applause had him grinning like a schoolboy.

“No more walking for you Jeff my lad.” Bryan managed to put one hand on Jeff’s puggy arm, his own having nearly become useless. He was making such good progress.

Bryan and Jeff grew, eat of them cramming just as much into themselves and each other as they could. Bryan had wanted to stick around so they could go together, but looking at how hot his own failing health made Jeff, it was all he could do not to cram down deep-fried butter. That did mean that there was almost a week apart when Bryan had that final massive coronary that carried him away.

By the time, Bryan got back, Jeff was nearly nine hundred pounds. He had spent their time apart just eating as constantly as he could, having a feeding tube filled with flavored lard pouring down his neck every time he went to sleep. Bryan decided to take a few months off from working on Greasy Burger and really focus on ruining Jeff’s health.

Looking down at the medical readouts from the chair, Bryan’s signature smile flashed at Jeff who was taking a few minutes to chug extra sugar cola between binges. They had really made solid progress on both hypertension and diabetes that way, each gallon of soda putting more of a strain on the insulin pumps that were trying desperately to take over for a failing pancreas.

“Whose my sack of fat and sugar? I do believe your feet at getting nice and black. “ And they were, it wasn’t two days later that he was looking down at pair of stumps covered over of the massive lard apron that was smothering Jeff’s dick. If it wasn’t for the industrial strength of that tube, it wasn’t likely that anything could provide stimulation.

Bryan took him back out to the Greasy Burger every chance he got to show off, as Jeff’s fat just grew larger and larger. Slowly he watched Jeff’s face start to vanish into his flab as he lost his other two extremities. He was looking so much like a ball of flab, Bryan couldn’t help but fucking his folds every chance he got. This was always his favorite part of feeding up a firstie, really pushing their intake and slowly strangling their brain with fat.

“Bry…..I feel so big ...and warm. Its ...like I’m floating in fat Bryan.” He had turned up the oxygen to the maximum to even let him talk, but he appreciated Jeff’s sweet nature. He’d have to see if they could make this an ongoing thing. He could tell that eventually even the oxygen bar wouldn’t do enough, and soon the strokes started.

Each tiny explosion seemed to steal a little more of Jeff’s mind, making him simple and happier as more fat and sugar were forced into his system. This darling man was growing more and more simply, and sexier as his fat slowly overtook a half-ton and kept going. The heart attacks were almost a weekly thing, but that pump just kept plugging on. When he finally heard that final flat line, he came for the last time, his own gut just starting to come in.

“Catch you on the flip side, Jeff. Maybe you can feed me next time.”

I will stick to past tense from now on.

>>651
Present tense has its place, but it does tend to feel more amateur

Totally has some unhealthy/medical issues

https://www.deviantart.com/bardoflard/art/Giving-Up-846630333

https://www.wattpad.com/837831311-the-heavy-life-of-an-immobile-teen-waking-up

>>855
Does a character at 17 not qualify as CP?

>>856
It definitely does.

Your mobility chair pulls into the Phobos Landing Convention center, your camera floating behind you and picking up establishing shots of the building. You were a junior reporter for one of the leading holo-news stations on the Pleasure Moon of Phobos, and that meant picking up human interest stories to fill air time. Anime, along with other classically nerdy hobbies, had been popular on Mars due in part to their fandom's representation in the early colonists. There was a reason why Mars had cities named Quad and Cartersberg.
But as the modern society of excess had taken shape, Anime, in particular, had seen a resurgence in popularity due to one trait that its heroes had over other more western media. Gluttony and other forms of excess were traits of the heroes rather than the villains. Son Goku was perhaps the pioneer, but he was far from the last. And that made it popular among a public that was growing more comfortable with overindulgence.
As you approach the main entrance of the convention area, you can't help but smile at the sheer funk wafting out of the main convention space. You didn't often indulge in the slobby side yourself, but you had lovers who had been way into that, and you still loved a messy pigout or two when you had the free time. A massive woman in what chair's systems told you was a Naga the Sorceress costume was waiting by the door, her enormous stomach obscuring the truly scandalous thong. She was spilling out of every stitch of the cosplay, every inch of fat bulging from the barely-there outfit.
What was more surprising was the retro-style mobility scooter that she was sitting in. It had a fair number of the modern refinements; it keeps the overall design from those brave pioneers of overindulgence.
"Ms. Angelia? Hi, I'm Jasmine. "As you get close, it's clear she hasn't showered in days. She pulls up next to you, the two chairs angle to let you shake her large hand. You move your arms more than average because you tended to talk with your hands, and it drew attention to the fingers you had lost to diabetes and your massive cleavage. So you can curl your remaining digits around her swollen fingers and manage a brief shake as your sweat starts to mix.
"Call me Alice. Thank you for taking the time to play tour guide." Her jowls flush as she turns towards the massive entrance into the main convention room. It would appear that she was a fan of more than just Slayers. You can't help but keep smiling at your growing popularity.
"Thanks. Welcome to AniCon. "The chair even makes an authentic whirl as she drives down into the massive central space that is Artist Alley. They could have designed the lanes with plenty of room for people, but they instead seem to be far closer together, with lines of moving benches where people can sit down and slowly move up towards the artists they wished to meet.
"We try to keep things as true to our origins as possible. We ask our attendees to avoid showering for at least three days before attending, and ideally not change clothing unless they are cosplaying to really have the con funk experience." Jasmin was breathing in deeply, enjoying the haze, and Alice couldn't help but join in. They had also raised the temperature above the normal sixty-four to get the sweat going.
"So I see." The other reason for the scooters and more old school mobility aids was to allow the various con attendees to brush up against one another. Fat covered in flimsy and stained t-shirts or pouring out of costumes brushing against one another was delightful. She even saw walkers with reinforced seats, which were rare enough these days for those who wanted to earn their immobility.
"The Artist Alley is where our tour starts. Many of the local names in the Anime scene along with a few of the bigger names come here to help promote their work. Our big get this year is Tokimai Fuko, the genius behind several magical girl series like Gluttony Warriors and Sakura Grow. "Those were classics of the gain weight for greater magical power sub-genre, which remained pretty accessible for modern audiences. They were still in classical two-dimensional style, but they were still quite famous for their extensive feeding scenes and the massive character models. You'd have to see if you could get an interview later.
The sound of flatulence was practically a counterpoint to the speech. You slowly make your way through the massive waves of shimmering and wobbling flab. Each attendee going from obese to land whale lent their bulk and lack of personal space only broken up by the mobility devices front sections on those few who don't hang completely off their scooters.
As your modern chair floats behind your guild, you can feel yourself getting covered in sweat, both your own and those around you. You didn't think you would enjoy that quite as much as you did, but the chair kept you high enough to see the brightly colored tables and displays of classic style artwork alongside holos and moldings.
"We try to set a minimum of three hundred pounds for anyone not working the staff, and so far we have had very few turns aways. It helps that we keep a consistent schedule so people try to avoid transitioning before the Con. "It just went to show that dedicated fans were willing to put in the effort. You guessed some artists would want to keep their ability during the conventions, so you couldn't blame them for showing up unfortunately thin.
"Past the Alley, we have the Dealer's room, where you can buy merchandise and other products from your favorite series." These booths were mostly automated, with secure payment and merchandise handled automatically by robotic hands built into each mini-shops.
"As part of our deal with the merchants, we put the Food Court at the far end of the room to help build traffic." That has your stomach rumbling, as you hadn't eaten more than a snack in hours and had you ready to gorge. Your guide just smiled as her stomach echoed the sentiment, and you made your way through the various retailers of figurines, cards, and body pillows.
Above the food court, there is a sign that reads Welcome to the Hall of Gluttony. Sinners welcome. Your guide must have noticed your surprised look, as she gestures up at the signpost. "We take a poll each year for the theme of the food court. This year, the winner was from 'A Devil's Appetite'." she said as she led you into the structure that was more active than the dealer's hall. Robotic succubi with large stomachs and huge breasts, sashayed between the gorging patrons, feeding them from huge trays of some of the least healthy food you'd seen outside of the Last Meal.
"I don't know about you but that looks like Heaven to me." Your mobility chair sped up and hurtled it toward an open space in the massive tables with room for mobility devices. Your guide manages to catch up, wobbling in her far less steady scooter as she takes her place across from you. Your fat barely has time to stop shaking before one of the android succubi waddles over to each of you. You can tell when it checks your personal contact preferences, before sliding up next to you and wrests her artificial gut onto your arm and her massive breasts press into your face.

"So what can I get for you Love?" The faked heavy breathing in that sultry voice doesn't keep her from asking for your order. The menu that popped up on the table's hologram had a few of your favorites, and you knew you wanted to go for it this time. It played well on camera, and it was bound to impress her guide.
"Let me get 10 of those extra-large everything pizzas with ranch dipping sauce. A large basket of deep fried butter, with powdered sugar coating. And a barrel of Thicc beer." Jasmine ordered a double bacon cheeseburger meat mountain, a trough of fried dough, and her barrel of beer. With each heavy and unhealthy item that you ordered, the android's smile gets more sultry.
"Good girl, that will really add all this lovely flab." You felt her hands playing your stomach apron, shifting the massive flab as it shifts up your body. It feels remarkably good, and you start to wonder how much having one of these models for your home might run you. Jasmine was also enjoying her android succubi, who helped her make room in the otherwise tight costume.
"Now open up. You have some eating to do." Layers of steaming pizza dripping with grease and toppings shift next to your attendant, who starts lifting those slices and cramming them into your open mouth. You don't bother to chew, just struggling to swallow as your chair opens up your oxygen bar and forced in more air. Normally you'd eat less violently, but sometimes it felt good to be pushed. Her other hand snakes into your cleavage, and after a bit of friendly groping, you can feel it flatten your flabby chest again with pleased surprise.
"Is that an arrhythmia I detect, you naughty girl. Well done. Lets see how bad we can make those chest pains, and get you speeding onto my mistress." The chest pains were practically a kindly refrain by this point, but to have someone draw attention to them and start working on making them worse made it even better. As you spared a glance across the table, you can see Jasmine getting more and more burgers forced down her gullet, the succubi using her tail like a chimney sweeps brushed to force more through her stretched throat.
The massive android pressed into you as she continued to force-feed you massive slices, fried butter sticks, and steins of beer. She was practically on top of you, the false flab rubbing against your own as she deliberately made a mess feeding you. You can feel your stomach stretch and sag further down past your blacking feet; only it's slow creep towards the end of your chair signaling and the reddening of your abdomen indicating just how much you were pushing yourself.
You can see Jasmine in a similar situation as the trough of dough is slowly poured down her open mouth, her eyes mildly glassy from the sheer amount of beer she's consumed. Your heart manages to make it through the pizza and your keg, only to fail while you force down the last of the deep-fried butter. The chairs defib manages to get the diseased pump going again, despite the playful interference of the android. You were looking into one of these for home. The flushed face of your guide indicated she had also had her near miss, the table's systems managing to keep her among the living for a few more days.
"Come see us again, beautiful." The two of you roll off, stuffed to the gills, and recovering from your own near misses with the reaper. You hadn't seen a feeding android that delightfully saucy in some time, and that had you looking for other forms of release. Still, you had a job to do, and you could always get it taken care of later.
"Definitely one of my favorite food court themes. The supplier of those androids expects them to sell like hot cakes and I can't say that they won't." As you pull past the foot court, you notice several large TVs surrounded by what you took for chairs, but turn out to be cushioned toilets. Each screen seems to be showing a different anime presentation, as various con-goers take a seat and drop their pants.
"The anime viewing lounge. We get permission to show some of the old classics and let people discuss or enjoy them at their own pace. It's also a good place to take a load off. As for the toilets, well most people at these things don't really have that much control and just building the seats with that in mind made sense." You couldn't argue, as you had lost bowel control nearly two hundred pounds again, and tubes from the chair took care of such matters for you. But now that you looked around, almost every static seat was, in fact, a padded toilet, varying from the old school porcelain to more futuristic designs.
As you pull past, you can't help but notice how many straining faces were sitting back and enjoying the anime experience. It added to the overall smell, and it only seemed to grow as you approached the convention's final area.
"This is the main stage. There are a few secondary stages for small presentations, but this is the real heart of the convention. All the premieres, announcements, and most of the major guest panels happen here over the week proper. And that makes this the place to be." Jasmine smiles as you pull up to a back row in a rapidly filling auditorium. As you moved from backward, the seating had more openings to allow plenty of room for chairs and scooters. As Jasmine stopped, large hands helped pluck Jasmine out of her and onto an oversized seat while sliding her loincloth out of the way.
"We...grunt...will..provide..you a full itinerary. If there are any interviews…<grunt> you'd like us to help arrange just let us know." It would seem that a massive binge was helping force the remains of a previous meal out of her, and knowing your social conventions, you start to bear down on your digestive tract with the few muscles you have left. Waves of flatulence follow your efforts as you try to make room for the meal churning in your overstretched guts.
“I can…<strain> think of a <grunt> couple. But mostly, I will..just be..<grunt>..attending and doing commentary. The tour will likely be added to the voice over, and we will do any big announcement coverage." As the two of you strain and talk, you can feel you were going to enjoy it. As you forced wave after wave of waste out, others soon sit down to join you. Practically everyone in the audience is emptying their tank, even as robotic trays make their way through the oversized allies stuffed with every form of snack and drink known to man.
Pleasantly buzzed, you manage to make enough room for a few more sweets, as the chair forces more insulin into your pumps. The alcohol helped you push further, and even as the stress did more damage, you can't stop snacking. You might not make it to the end of the week, but that was always the hazard in show biz. Eventually, you quiet down, as the preview for Sumo Warrior Nigina's latest season starts. And the smile you are giving the convention is far from just polite.

https://www.deviantart.com/trmtum/poll/200-Follower-Giveaway-Round-2-7905310

Vote yunyun on this

Does anyone know a kind of health-issues, kind of life-ruining story? It was on Fantasy Feeder, about a snobby woman who loses her job and her life spirals out of control - she gains a lot of weight, dresses sloppily, becomes lazy with cleaning, her husband leaves her and she ends up being humiliated by a poor woman she used to make fun of (Mary, I think) as she balloons

https://www.deviantart.com/therealrng/art/Lusamine-Loses-It-Dark-WG-840252788
https://www.deviantart.com/therealrng/art/Lillie-Loses-It-Too-Dark-WG-Health-Issues-627445692

Olivia - Main Character
Joy - Friend #1
Paula - Friend #2

A new sensation was sweeping Mars as a new technology transferred from Earth. A unique nanotech payload could be injected upon transfer, programmed to provide life support and other medical support. It doesn’t take long for some enterprising Martian to modify the load to give a few more exciting features.

Olivia picked up the news feed as she sat in her mobility bed. She was nearly a ton of quivering flab kept alive by the various systems built into the device, as carts filled with replicated food slid up, and mechanical arms fed her. Olivia knew from the redlining medical alerts and the near-constant chest pains that a transfer would be coming soon, and this breakthrough gave her an idea. She sent a message to Joy and Paula, whose own bodies were bordering on collapse. The three friends tended to keep similar transition schedules as they had since their first.

“I’m game.” “Sounds fun.”. The two quick responses had Olivia struggling to smile with her massive jowls. It would be fun to experiment, and besides, what was there to lose. She told the apartment systems to step up her feed and start deep frying the butter sticks. She could feel the strain building as the machine forced food into her stomach, and she knew it wouldn’t be long now.

The massive coronary that moves her onto her newest transference had an extra spice with the new nanotech setup waiting for her. When she awoke, thin again save for the truly huge breasts and ass that were part of her hourglass default.

A quick change of clothes later, she was out in the clinic’s lobby, starting on her first pack of cigarettes with brand new lungs. The soothing menthol made it easier to start pounding them down. But she wasn't halfway through before the other two Gut-skeeters showed up.

"So, shall we go and stress test this stuff. I could kill for some burgers," said Joy, a glutton even among their circle. She hadn't cared about the safety features of the initial nano, not until some brilliant hacker managed to make some alterations.

"I got us three seats at the Imperial Indulgence for the next couple months. That should give us plenty of opportunities to test the capacity booster and overindulgence preparations," replied Olivia. Perhaps the thing that had drawn them to these Nanos, the capacity booster, which would scavenge material to keep increasing their guts. More skin to stretch, more belly flab to cushion, and more stomach to fill.

Joy and Paula’s answering grins were enough to have us stepping out and hailing an automated cab. They designed the cabs to be spacious and easy to clean, the back cooling to a proper temperature for anyone with real padding. As they pulled up in front of the restaurant and hotel themed around the excesses of ancient Rome.

“I had been looking forward to trying this for a while,” said Paula, a bit of drool sliding down from her bee-stung lips. As the cab’s door slid open, they were met by three android doormen with wheelchairs designed to look like sedan chairs. Each of the girls had no problem sliding into the conveyances, enjoying their slide into decadence from the first.

The android doormen pushed them into the vast circular building. The chairs turned right and began to climb a ramp leading into one of the alcoves surrounding a central pit that had an approximation of the supposed Roman Goddess of Gluttony standing on a massive plinth. The place has a light and soothing music playing, only partially covering debauchery sounds from every partially hidden space.

They are taken to a reserved alcove, containing huge and well-cushioned divans. They slowly and sensually strip each of the girls, placed on their own as they have oils worked into their currently taunt and firm bodies. They would not be wearing clothing again and wouldn’t miss it by all indication. The doormen slide their wheeled chairs back towards the entrance in preparation for the next guest, and through the curtains slides their attendants.

Barely covered by the linen wraps, their huge stomachs and massive breasts barely constrained as their artificial flesh wobbles with every movement. Every one of their curves was filled with enough fake flab to wobble enticingly. In truth, if it weren’t for their fluid grace they would have seemed real. Something far less expected was the addition that the hermaphroditic attendants of the Imperial Indulgence were famous for, constantly straining under their loincloths. Those would be a great deal of fun, especially once they got to a proper size.

“Don’t do things by half, do they?” Joy quipped though she could help but stare. The attendants each moved to one of the girls and slid next to them, their flab rubbing against bodies that currently lack their own.

“Everything worth doing is worth overdoing.” the Androids responded in the Imperial’s motto. A place that would push your appetites to your limits and then clean you up and start again, that was what they had been looking for. The smiles they offered flickered as they detected the nanite configuration. When they returned, they looked slightly more determined and a bit more intent, as if the AI which ran this place was more present.

“So, what do you want, honored guest?” Olivia shivered as the attendant whispered it into her ear, rubbing her breasts into Oliva’s back. Olivia knew already. It was partially a legend and one of the things that had helped Imperial’s fame over Mars.

“The Full Vice Triumph. The Endless Procession.” Joy and Patricia both gasped in shock, even as the attendant moaned in confirmation. They looked shocked but gradually began to smile while requesting the same. The Full Vice Triumph was basically ordering everything off the Imperial Experience’s vast menu. Every decadent delight by the cart full, dripping with grease, butter, sugar, and salt. Alcohol by the cask, wine, and even more sugary hard liquors. Stacks of cigarettes of every flavor stacked up to provide each moment not consumed with something designed to worsen health. And all of those served by attendants that were also sexually servicing the guest every spare moment.

Rare was the person who could manage more than a few days of this before collapsing. And it was perhaps the most overly indulgent thing this side of the Last Binge’s final meal. But the Endless Procession was to take things to a new level. From this moment, the attendants would take those all indulgences and continue to push them until each girl collapses, and then continue to pour things down their throat until they overflow or wake up. They wouldn’t stop until the reservation time ran out or they transitioned.

“Oh, darling. We will show you such a good time.” Olivia shivers as the attendant breathes her acknowledgment into her ear and then licks her way down her body. As an automated cart starts rolls up next to her, she can feel the attendant reach her honey pot and her eyes start to cross. She can feel hands placing food in her mouth and start to work her jaw even as she starts to lose her focus. She hopes that the others are going to enjoy themselves, as she knew she wasn’t going to be up to make sure for a while.

She just let it happen, the first orgasm helping distract her as her jaw is worked and food is forced down her throat with each passing moment. Every moment that she was swallowing, her head was tipped back and alcoholic heavy cream was poured down her neck. Her head swims from the combination of orgasm and alcohol, as she feels her stomach start to fill and stretch.

And stretch it did, each moment pushing her capacity as her stomach grew larger and redder. Her attendants, a second having appeared while she was distracted, paused, and lit another one of her menthols. As she dragged in, she got to watch her stomach collapse from a red dome to a pile of flab in fast forward. That she was able to watch despite drinking enough to easily push her into a blackout, was more than enough to prove that this was worthwhile.

She could feel her body growing that little bit softer, but the majority of the collected flab was focused around her rapidly emptying middle. She barely gets three cigarettes before she’s ready to fill herself again. And the attendants have no problem with shoving more food and drink into her again at increasing speed, even as the lower one is slowly forcing her massive tool past Olivia’s slowly stretching labia. Her eyes roll back, coming as much from the constant calories and the delicious pleasure and pain of being filled in every manner she could be.

==

She knew that her bladder and bowels let go over and over again, but she couldn't care or stop. The attendants took care of it and she kept consuming not caring how much of a mess she made. They would clean her. And it felt so good to not care.

It doesn’t take long for her to lose track of time, and her smoke breaks which are her momentary emergence from the waves of indulgence grew farther and farther apart. She fell asleep despite the near-constant stimulation by the third day, and when she woke up, she found her belly had grown to the size of a beach ball.

Just a ball of tight flab filled to near burst as her lower attendant shifts Olivia onto her side, to better let her massive gut hang and access her pussy. She is finally able to see her friends who are being fed and fucked within an inch of their lives. Joy even passed out but they were working her throat and jaw.

And suddenly Olivia was penetrated again, her overfull stomach sloshing as the attendant's own gut pressed into her side. The sound of her constant arousal being forced out as she's nearly split in two gets her eyes rolling again. And she's gone back into the clouds again.

The days pass as their gluttony grows more and more out of control. Olivia's stomach easily reaches the ground by day 6, spreading further and further across the floor. Something one would normally only see in much more advanced obesity.

But even the capacity boost cannot use all those empty calories, and by week's end, they were starting to inflate like fat balloons. The relentless march of fat, salt, and sugar from literally days of constant eating, soon had Olivia sprawled across her coach with piles of blubber filling every inch. It felt natural as she lost first her desire and then capacity to move. She just consumed nearly mindlessly, being able to eat for literal days without respite making her gain in fast forward.

By week two, she was easily four hundred pounds and prediabetic, the massive fat sack spreading towards others easily makes up half of that. The near constant binge had them diabetic by week three, and immobile by week four. Any conversation wouldn't have been possible, as they never were empty long enough to form words.

Only a tobacco dropped air bar was enough to keep her lungs blackening even as she fed. The roman themed treats had long since given way to every greasy pizza, fried lasagna, and desert they could cram in. Each cycle only made the binge longer and increased its toll on her body.

Her pancreas gave up the ghost by week 6, Olivia's diabetes was totally out of control by then. The near constant insulin only delayed the inevitable, and the advanced signs showed up quickly. The growing chest pains were also an encouraging sign.

Nearly 1000 pounds despite her blackening feet and dimming sight, Olivia is astounded just how fast they were packing things on. The attendants were having to take care of her other needs, as her poor diet made getting backed up from lard and butter almost a certainty. Week 7 was when she started having her first heart attacks. Joy had been having them for days, the defibrillators forcing her pump back to beating and Patricia followed soon after. They weren't the largest they had ever been, but they had never put their own internals under such constant and deliberate strain.

The attendants had been forced to use harnesses to lift Olivia's thigh fat out of the way to allow even partial access for their massive tools. They were forced to use extensions to get in deep, not that Olivia minded. As long as she could consume and be pleasured she did care. However to really push the last few days, she switched to sweetened lard and melted butter. The hose poured it down her throat and she filled every inch.

When they tried to move the masses of flab that had been the Guts-kiteers, they found they had over flowed their largest conveyances. Realizing it wouldn't do for guests to be taken out in forklifts, even if it was just to a hoverchair station, the AI pushed their liquid consumption that small bit further.

Olivia was practically swimming in an alcoholic haze filled with constant consumption when she felt the tube increase its output to the limit. She felt the delightful stretching again even as her heart started to hammer. The first of her orgasms heralded the heart attack, each following the other as her body finally gave up the ghost. As she heard the other defibs whine, she assumed that they were checking out together. She couldn't wait to try this again.

this was too much for me but i think other people here might like it. https://www.deviantart.com/stc9892/art/I-Worry-About-Us-SSBBW-XWG-MORBIDITY-865794555

>>1336
Come back, ur stories are great.

I am working on a couple of stories but they aren't Future Shock. I will however accept Future Shock-related story requests. As I'm in need of inspiration, for that setting anyway.

>>1926

Idea more than a request as such. A slight twist on the Future shock idea.

Backstory: As most of the worlds problems started to be fixed scientists noticed a new thing happeneding. They managed to isolate what they determined were genes that made people feeders or feedees. These genes were actually becoming more common as time went on.

Story idea / points:

It's now when all resource issues in the world have been solved.
Out of concern for a possible collapse of society if the technology keeping society running fails governments have mandated that children must still get an education in how stuff works and be maintained in a state if the worst should happen they could survive.
The story is high school in this future society sort of
The mandate is simply, until the age of 16 the food replicators are designed to provide the students with nutritionally balanced meals to keep them healthy. The students are mostly kept in the dark to the realities of the ever increasingly hedonistic society by essentially being section off from it.
Parents are also in on it and mostly agree to this with those who are feedees growing and gorging themselves using reallistic human like synthetic bodies they operate from their homes (think the movie Surrogates). Those who are feeders do usually interact with this other world as real people. There's no real way to tell for the kids which is which and part of the whole keeping them in the dark thing is not letting them know about all this.
At 16 students get given an unlock card which allows them to order whatever they want from the food replicators and over-rides things like the daily calorie restriction and balanced diet stuff.
At 18 they learn the truth about the rest of the world and thanks to the feedee or feeder genes being in 99.99% of the population by this point almost everyone slots into position as a feeder or a feedee indulging in the hedonistic pleasures of the world with few real restrictions due to sociteyt being far more liberated. In the liberated world the food replicators obviously don't need the card to remove restrictions they recognise users and work based on wha they've requested. Those who don't wish to take part in the hedonistic mostly pleasure driven future are offered options in other tiny offworld colonies where older styles of living are practiced.

We join the world where this has been going on for some time and as the hedonistic lifestyle has become more extreme outside of the sheltered seperate world the kids / teenagers live in and the technology supporting it hasn't failed yet so complcency has set in, some of what were hard and fast rules are started to be not enforced much if at all.

Rules like:
- Uniform is required at school and must be appropriately fitting and covering with students outgrowing their uniforms requred to go get a new one
- No public intimacy
- No allowing a person under 16 to use your unlock card
- No-one shall try to actively "prepare" any-one for the real world of hedonism it should be their choice
- No snacking in class.

Feeder and Feedee teachers (Feedee ones using the Surrogate android things) Turning a blind eye to students snacking in class, blind eyes turned to uniforms getting too tight or covering less. No-one being surprised to see a 16 -17 male feeder using his card to help feed up a girlfriend whose not yet 16. Rules on imtimacy not enforced at all really.
Parents of those who are 16 encouraging more liberal use of the unlock card to indulge a bit or help others indulge.
Rules being changed so while 18 is when the "The great secret" is told to most people some are being deemed to need to be transfered early into the rest of the world due to their growth and get told it quite a bit earlier in some cases as determined as regular weight / health checks or just subtle monitoring of such things. Though it's strongly enforced that no-one can outright tell a person unless it's deterined they need to move to the "real world" and learn the great secret ad this is done by school staff or government officials.

My preference is for fat women mostly and feeders being dudes maybe told from the perspective of a guy in highschool.
I'm not big into the smoking / drugs hedonism stuff either my limit is about people getting the munchies from weed sometimes or getting slightly drunk sometimes. Nor am I much of a fan of full on slob

I hope these ideas / suggestions are useful I figured it might inspire something or be a bit of a change for you to write something set not quite in the normal future shock world but the world while it's approaching the future shock world trying to cling onto some elements and positions of the past. Just slidiing toward the future shock world you've been writing about and close to becoming it but not there yet

>>1926
You haven’t done couples stuff yet. I was thinking high school sweethearts who after a few cycles decide they want children and they want to try it the old fashioned way.

>>1926
I would love a story more focused on partying hard. Just heavy drinking, smoking, drugs, not giving a fuck, and of course stuffing themselves. It’s hard to find intoxication centric weight gain fics

>>1963
Not exactly what you listed, but maybe Caution: Side Effects Include Weight Gain by Mashuky?

Had Alien inspired story.
Don't have full energy to writefag, so posting now to see if people are interested, or have suggestions.
>Be on long stage spaceflight. Cheap model vessel, private crew.
>No point in attempting stasis due to close proximity to target planets. Also, the beds have a maximum size limit that can be squeezed into them, and some of the crew, which averages at 800-900lbs, can't fit in them.
>Tensions are frayed due to months with very little to do, and the very unergonomic ship design. Crew are at each others throats, and getting around the ship in anywhere but the main passages is a pain.
>Story follows one of the pilots, a cold, focused and driven young woman. Being 650-700 lbs, and fairly fit from craft maintenance, she's one of the lightest and most energetic of the crew. Saying fittest would give the wrong impression, but she's not running the risk of an embolism by walking too fast.
>Ship sets in orbit over their target planet, containing an abandoned large company research station they hope to plunder for monetary gains.
>Surface crew and protagonist sets down, finds the place barely functioning. Expedition takes hours to establish a foothold because squeezing a wheezing 850lb 'guard' through a doorway makes them all pale and tired, so they need to take breaks often.
>Some of them are also looking a little bit sick, and several are moaning or complaining about the place being scary. So protagonist, fed up with the bullshit of these fatties. Discovers some science, some more science, and then some specimens of honest, actual aliens.
>Returning to the slow moving crew, she finds they're flashing torches and guns into vents after a small child.
>Being not immediately in danger of passing out from stress, looking slightly skinnier, and not getting worked up, protagonist manages to coax child out from vents, and discover that the same aliens she'd seen, were still around.
>Protag orders leader to order retreat because if they could do this to compound, she didn't want to see what they'd do to them.
>Exfil is panicky, and still slow, as people get worked up and get stuck or fall partially through a grate that couldn't hold their weight.
>Several get major lacerations on already fluid dense and undervasculated fatty ankles. Others go into states of shock or hyperventilation. Others end up fracturing bones with the unexpected stresses of moving their weight so much, or tear ligaments or stress-tear skin. Some sweat so badly that they've dehydrated themselves, and given themselves minor heat exhaustion by the time they make it back to the craft.
>Protagonist is unsympathetic during the ordeal. Child is just bewildered, as far as she can tell.
>Total mission time. Eight hours.
>Result. Crew (minus protagonist when she went on her own adventure, clearly), explored five rooms. Retreated at maximum speed, sustained heavy injuries. Entire crew placed on sick leave.
>Protagonist is very disappointed.
>Landing crew, predictably, parks up in cafeteria, and just smokes, drinks, and binge eats as much as their commission allows them to, trusting in the equipment to clear their voided bowels.
>Then, one of the larger, unhealthier girls from the landing, with one of those tight, round bellies you get from massive amounts of internal organ fat, starts getting pains while eating.
>Pretty soon, she's stopped eating, and is leaning forward (as much as she's able), with her chins half-submerged into her chest, sweating and grunting in pain as she tries to cradle her belly.
>She's getting an odd mix of pale, and ruddy red, but eventually she slows down, and her body visibly gives out.
>Everyone just assumes that she had a normal, conventional heart attack, or embolism or stroke or something. She wasn't one of the biggest, but she carried her weight the unhealthiest of any her size.
>But, autovivisection of her rapidly bloating corpse, for the sake of avoiding her cadaver filling with gas and exploding, revealed that the primary cause of death seemed to be a major stomach rupture, and almost a carving up of her internals. It looks like they've been through a blender, almost.
>Protagonist is about to put it down to gluttony, overeating, and being seriously unhealthy, but now one of the others from the expedition is saying they saw her get desperately hungry, and start eating some alien flora off the ground.
>Well fuck, guess there's an alien on the ship now.
>Worse, the ship's experiencing technical difficulties. The engine room's putting out less power, the transport rails aren't working, the lights go on and off randomly, and equipment they relied on heavily, like the Rapid Medical Assistance Technical Synthetics (RMATS) go offline or non-functional.
>Protagonist, being the only person not entirely incapable of dealing with this, eventually ends up taking control of the crew as suddenly, people start turning up dead, stuck in doors, half-fallen through floors, fallen and unable to get up, lying in their personal quarters. At least half were identifiable as a heart failure or obesity related death.
>Survivors end up barricading themselves in the cafeteria, as the quarters deck is too narrow and hazardous.
>Protagonist, now de facto captain, starts abusing her position to gain a larger serving portion (the captains portion), alongside portions of the deceased, to take the stress of it off her. Also starts smoking a bit more. Rapidly starts to gain weight, as she mostly orders the others around.
>Most missions are met with failure. Crew's too big to fit in the engineering decks. Crew struggles to navigate corridors without light or power, even with flashlights.
>Maybe some of the crew give up physically, and just fall over as a defeated, fleshy barricade, making passage for the human crew practically impossible, but hopefully blocking out the alien creature as well.
>One of the security detail, a surprisingly dedicated woman, manages to catch, and crush the creature under her falling body. She kills herself in the process, through major tissue damage, but the ship is saved.
>Until it's revealed they've been breeding on the engineering deck.
>So, our protagonist of dubious moral fibre, who's now closer to 900lbs, far less well clad, and feeling every extra pound in health issues and physiological stress, heroically decides to jump ship.
>Through overreliance on the seven year old child, she manages to slowly waddle her pale, clammy bulk to the vehicle bay, stock the landing craft with enough hypercondensed provisions to last a normal crew several years, and then to get both of them on board.
>Much to her shame, not only does she have to use the freight elevator, after finding she can't traverse the back ramp's incline, nor fit into the cockpit.
>But, through relaying instructions to the child, despite her nausea, light headedness, fatigue, bodily pain and all the other issues that she totally handled far better then those other crew members back on that expedition, totally, they get away and activate the emergency beacon.
>She manages to put the child into an emergency stasis bed, and spends the next 45 minutes gradually working the energy up, then herself up onto the other one, only to confirm that there's no way in hell she's fitting anything of hers in the beds that were even smaller then the ones she already could barely fit into.
>Finally, as she's gasping for breath and trying to calm her overtaxed heart down, a vent detaches from the ceiling, and one of the alien creatures lands on her naked, pale gut. She wants to do something, but it's all she can do to stay awake, much less lift a flabby arm.
>She passes out, still coughing and wheezing, feeling its talons dig into the fleshy expanse of her gut, and its weight put pressure on her internals, expecting to die by some horrible alien mechanism to this oddly feminine looking monster.
>No. Wakes up, groggy and extremely sore, like she's run a marathon, but fine.
>Turns out, they're fine with humans. At least this one seems more curious then murderous, and seems almost enamored at the sheer size of the organism it sees before it, poking and prodding and playing.
>At least there's food. And hey, it might look more like a girl then a dude, but it's more physical attention from something vaguely hot-looking then she's had in years.
Am writing this at 1 am, so do take with grain of salt.
Thoughts?

>>2041
Seems interesting. I would add some stuff on how they handle zero-g versus gravity.

>>2041
They could also have some advanced medical equipment that is designed to mitigate the results of extreme obesity but the equipment breaks and fails.

https://www.deviantart.com/cirque-de-kink/art/USSBBW-Health-Play-Medical-Anomaly-874519634

>>2052
Hey, that's me! Glad ya liked the piece, boss

>>2232
Cirque! Loved your latest piece! Puking and dying of a heart attack while running away from a killer? DUDE. You are hitting so many spots for me.

I really need to start writing my own shit.

>>2232
I noticed you mentioned a pastebin in your deviantart. Would you mind linking your pastebin?

>>2233
Same here, loved it as well. I would love to see a story about an immobile fatty in peril, unable to get out bed while the danger closes in.

>>2232
>>2235
Thank you both so much, it really means the world to me that you guys dig my work<3

>>2234
https://pastebin.com/u/Cirque-De-Freak And here ya go, bud; I admittedly don't use pastebin anymore, it's got some filter or something that kept stopping me from posting smut. Idk, it was weird.

health issues story with slob elements about a neet who can't leave the house. https://fantasyfeeder.com/stories/view?id=307775

>>2235
There's this one
https://www.deviantart.com/angelpax/art/Coming-in-the-Night-XWG-SSBBW-Horror-851127361

>>439

>More description to how the even younger go about, how toddlers eat there first butter bar how there goal was the first to get unable to run ect.>>439
>More description to how the even younger go about, how toddlers eat there first butter bar how there goal was the first to get unable to run ect.

I really want to see something in that ways

>>2041
If the author of this does not update us anytime soon (which I doubt, as he hasnt followed up on this for... 7 months now), ill consider turning this into a twine text-based adventure game, similiar to >>28

...that is if I figure out how to use the program. Ill give you guys an update if im gonna go through with this

>>2985
damn, I typod my own announcement for a game... Ill just keep my head up and get to my godamn research

>>2363
>https://fantasyfeeder.com/stories/view?id=307775

links dead, shame

Love NEET shit

Bumping with Cirque-de-kinks nec-romancer on deviantart. Amazing story for health issues. Hoping for a sequel one day.

https://www.deviantart.com/lithiumdreamer/art/The-Realities-Of-Gaining-1-293048756
Bit of an older one that doesn't get much love recently, but "Realities of Gaining' goes places a lot of other stories don't.

>>2041

A while ago somebody from here was looking for people to commission to make unhealthy wg fiction, this what I sent them as a sample as I had no other relevant material and they liked it, but I never took them up and no money changed hands. Life just got in the way for me unfortunately. I've been thinking of working on it for a while now so I present it here for you now. Praise, hate, ideas, all welcome.



The door swung open and Amy shuffled back back in to her apartment, breathing hard. Without stopping to take off her shoes she flopped herself down on the couch which gave a creak and a thud as the frame hit the hardwood floor under her weight.
“That you hun?” Noah called from the kitchen,
“Yeah…only me” She called back, huffing between words
“You alright?”
“The…elevator…is out”
“Since when?”
“I dunno…I had to…take the stairs”
Coming in from the kitchen Noah looked upon his clearly exhausted girlfriend, her belly pushing her back on to the couch and her legs spread out, her thighs too thick to ever let them come together “You need a drink or something?”
“No I'm good…I got one while I was out” she said pulling a bottle of Dr Pepper from her bag and taking two huge gulps “I had to…I’m so thirsty lately…must be the weather…it’s really dry out lately right”
“How did it go?”
“It was horrible” she said, regaining the breath the two flights of stairs to their apartment had robbed her of “I can’t believe that fucking asshole. I told him what was wrong me, how I’m tired all the time, how my back and my legs hurt, and straight away he goes in with the ‘well these symptoms are likely a result of your weight’ the fucking fascist”
“He really said that to you?”
“Yeah, I couldn’t believe it, I had to actually educate a doctor that fat people get sick for the same reasons as thin people, how can you dismiss my problem just because I’m fat? Look around you there’s fat people everywhere they’re not all sick are they?” It had been a rough morning.
Amy had struggled with her weight nearly all her life, constantly going through a cycle of fad diets and gym memberships, only to lose a few pounds and gain it all back plus a few extra. By the time she was 20 she’d had enough, looking for support online she came across the health at every size and body positivity movement.
She learned that fat bodies are perfectly natural and as much as she tried, she couldn’t change herself, she was always going to be fat. Diets just didn’t work for her. Exercise didn’t work. Her genetics meant that she was made to be fat, after all, that’s what she always ended up being. All the time she had spent trying to lose weight she was playing in to the diet industry’s conspiracy and the media’s unhealthy body image, she was fine the way she was.
Eventually she chose to be happy, she chose to eat what her body wanted and do what made her happy. The way she saw it, people couldn’t deal with her size “... It was humiliating. You think I should put a complaint in about him?” She had been rambling about the blatant injustice for a while, Noah had tuned out.
“Don't worry about it, he's just another asshole who can't see how great you are” He was used to this by now, listening, reassuring, enabling “did they make you get on the scale?” he asked eagerly.
“Ugh, yes. I told them I don’t see why I should have to but he kept saying it was ‘important for the records’ then of course he turned into a total health concern troll when the number came up”
“Huh, what was the number anyway?”
“382 lb, but I had my shoes on. Then he lectured me because it’s up from last year, was like ‘um yeah sweetie, weight fluctuates all the time’ I’m drinking so much it’s obviously water weight or something”
Noah knew it was up, around 50 lb up in 12 months to be specific. It showed. The flowing floral dress she was wearing had been a good fit last year, now it was straining to hold her gut, pulling in underneath it when she sat. She tugged it out with some effort, riding it up to expose her black leggings; one of the few items she could still fit in to, looking thinner against her swelling legs.
“He was really trying to bring you down huh?”
“He tried, but don’t worry, it’ll take more than that to take this fat queen down” she joked, shooting him a glance over her cat eye glasses and pouting her lips. She was so lucky to have him she thought to herself. All those years of being the butt of every joke, denying herself thinking she had to change to be accepted, Noah just loved her for who she was and never criticised her. It had been just over 2 years since they met and she couldn’t imagine life without him. He was so helpful, doing all the housework, the groceries, ordering food whenever she wanted it. She felt like a queen, never having to lift a finger.
“Well it still sounds like you’ve had a pretty shitty morning, so I’ve been working on something while you were out. I know you’re going to love it”
“You made me something?” She said, her voice rising, “Like a surprise? Just because I went out to the doctors?”
“Yeah. I knew you were going to have a shitty time but you did it anyway. I’m proud of you, so I thought you should get a reward” he said disappearing into the kitchen. When he came back he was holding a large white iced cake, ‘Happy Birthday Amy!’ Written on top in red icing “what do you think?”
“Oh my god Noah you made that all by yourself? It looks amazing!”
“Ah it’s nothing really, just a sponge cake, buttercream and jelly filling. The icing was pretty tricky though, might be,uh, kinda thick”
“No that looks amazing.” She beamed, her face overcome with happiness and her eyes fixed firmly on Noah’s gift “You know my mom always makes me a cake on my birthday though”
“Yeah I know” of course he knew “but it’s not your birthday for another week and I thought you could start early”
“Well I guess two cakes is better than one” she giggled. Noah knew he had to do better. Maybe she was just ignorant, he thought, but he could see the warning signs of diabetes clear as day. The fatigue, the thirst, the constant hunger making her graze all day on the snacks he filled the kitchen with. He’d have been floored ifif the doctor hadn’t said something about, and still she continued to chug soda as if nothing was wrong. She must have been pouring 2 litres of syrup into herself every single day. It wouldn’t take much to push her just over the edge, she was already out of control.
No sooner had he put the cake down had she heaved herself forward to take one of the 6 slices Noah had already carved out of half the cake. Her belly poured out between her legs to allow her just enough reach to take it with her swollen fingers. Falling back in to the couch in relief she pushed it deep into her mouth, her glossy peach lips closing clumsily over the enormous piece of fat and sugar. Biting in to buttercream oozed from it’s generous layer, the taste and sensation of it filling her mouth. Her brain melted with the overwhelming sickliness, her eyelids fluttering in sheer pleasure as the stress of the day dissolved in an instant,
“Hmph, this is so good” she exclaimed, eyes rolling back to Noah’s adoring face. She took her finger and scooped up the buttery sugary filling that had spilled out and sucked it off before she had even finished chewing “I definitely needed this. Thank you so much baby, you know how to take care of me”
“I like to think I know what makes you happy” he quipped wryly, “I’m just glad you like it” He watched her lean back to devour the rest of the slice, her hanging double chin wobbling with every bite, crumbs escaping down it on to her dress. He loved watching her eat, knowing that every bite of the over stuffed cake was spiking her blood sugar even higher and filling her already enormous body with even more fat, closer to that 400 lb line he’d been waiting for since they met. Watching her arms flop to her side on the couch not to move for the rest of the day, he knew it was inevitable now. Soon shovelling cake for him was all she was going to be capable of doing.

>>3544
Very nice! It's good when the person suffers the health difficulties is an annoying person. Makes it much easier to not feel sorry for them.

>>2041

https://www.deviantart.com/cirque-de-kink/art/USSBBW-Belly-Play-Force-Feeding-Blind-Date-912862819

really sweet story from Cirque-de-Kink again

Any good stories with younger SSBBWs who get health issues for being so obese?Doctor, hospital, etc.? Humiliation?

>>2041

Any good dark stories that weren't posted here before :)?

>>2041

I found this in the pits of Twitter and translated it somewhat poorly from Japanese with the help of a translator. Spoilered because it's loli.

Original author: https://twitter.com/QqTtfNoEGxF

[spoiler]She was born extremely underweight, which made her early life precarious. As a result, her parents became abnormally overprotective and often kept her in the house.

As she grew, her appetite grew with her. She began to develop her own tastes - no to fish, vegetables, and raw foods in general, as well as foods that were hard and tough to chew. She much preferred soft, cooked foods that were easy to eat (and contained a lot of sugar and fat). Her parents indulged her, giving her as much as she wanted.

By the time she started kindergarten, she was 100 cm (3 feet 3 inches) tall and weighed 45 kg (99 pounds). Due to her overprotected lifestyle, she barely exercised, so she had to sit and rest after walking just a little bit. Her uniforms had to be custom-made.

Her junk food cravings caused her to stay up later and later, eating more and more as she grew older.

As she moved to elementary school, her appetite increased still further.
6 years old/115 cm (3 feet 9 inches) tall/75 kg (165 lb) weight/obesity 265%
Her parents drove her to and from school every day. She was too large to keep up with physical education classes, so she just sat and watched. In class, she never left her desk, not even during break, unless she absolutely had to.

She was beginning to develop some minor health problems, but nobody noticed. She would wake up hungry during the night, so her parents gave her sweets and fast food until she was satisfied.

7 years old/122 cm (4 feet 0 inches)/95 kg (209 lb)/obesity 299%
Her school life was starting to become seriously hindered. Physical education was completely impossible, as was going up and down stairs. She was also advised to visit a special doctor due to her health. Her parents didn't care, though, and gave her as much as she wanted. Her leg bones were growing in crooked due to her weight.

8 years old/128 cm (4 feet 2 inches)/120 kg (265 lb)/obesity 344%
Her school life was now so difficult that she often missed class. When she did come to school, somebody had to help her with everything from carrying her bag to using the bathroom. At home, she spent most of her day just eating and sleeping. She already lacked exercise, but the situation was now even worse. Her knees hurt when she stood, and she needed a cane just to stand and walk. Her health problems were worsening, but she had no idea.

9 years old/133 cm (4 feet 4 inches)/150 kg (331 lb)\/obesity 403%
More days at home. When she did go to school, she spent most of the day in the infirmary. She usually just refuses to go. She was gifted a smartphone and a laptop, which she used mostly to order food online in addition to asking her parents for food. She ate as much as she wanted, whenever she wanted.

Her health checkup revealed diabetes, hypercholesterolemia, high blood pressure, and fatty liver, among other things. The doctor pointed all this out, along with many strange physical abnormalities, but everyone ignored him.

10 years old/138 cm (4 feet 6 inches)/185 kg (408 lb)/obesity 462%
She became so fat that she occasionally stopped breathing while asleep. She had to start using a CPAP at night. She was also now too fat to stand without help or walk more than a few steps at a time. She only went to school once a week, and when she did she was pushed in a wheelchair straight to the infirmary for the whole day. Even so, both parents and daughter ignored all health guidance.

11 years old/140 cm (4 feet 7 inches)/225 kg (496 lb)/obesity 564%
She was too heavy to move unassisted now, so she spent almost all her time in bed. Instead of school, she took classes online. Her lungs were so compressed with fat that she had to start using an oxygen cannula all the time. Her bed was also changed to a mobile hospital-style bed, along with a lift to pick her up for cleaning.

One day, while she was alone at home, she felt a sharp pain in her chest, but it soon subsided. She was too scared to tell her parents, so she kept it a secret and kept eating.

12 years old/142 cm (4 feet 7 inches)/270 kg (595 lb)/obesity 672%
She successfully graduated from elementary school, but her entry into middle school was put on hold. Unfortunately for her comfortable lifestyle, her parents finally started to get worried, so she left her home for the first time in a year to visit the hospital.

There, she was diagnosed with diabetes, hypercholesterolemia, hypertension, fatty liver, heart disease, hypoventilation syndrome, and renal failure. "A department store of illnesses," the doctor said - all of them serious. "If this continues, it will be absolutely catastrophic! You only have a few years!" Even so, she refused to be hospitalized, and her parents gave in to her crying face. They decided to instead try medications and diets at home.

However, they were so used to pampering their beloved daughter that they simply couldn't be strict. They inadvertently spoiled her and continued feeding her as much as she demanded. Far from losing weight, she became even more bloated, and the effects of her medication got weaker and weaker. The situation became even more dire.

13 years old/142 cm (4 feet 7 inches)/330 kg (728 lb)/obesity 832%
Due to the size of her body and state of her health, she could no longer breathe even with the oxygen cannula. She had to wear a full oxygen mask over her face for most of the day.

She started experiencing heart attacks. Her parents remodeled the house and installed proper medical equipment in her room. Doctors and nurses came from the hospital every day.

IVs containing various medicines, like insulin, were placed in her arms and body, and more were perscribed by mouth. She was also hooked up to various health monitors and even an AED in case of another heart attack. A kidney dialisys machine was also finally installed.

14 years old/142 cm (4 feet 7 inches)/400 kg (882 lb)/obesity 931%
Finally, with all the machines and medicine, she is able to maintain a basic level of health - just barely. Even so, her parents still spoil her. Her weight is still increasing - she has never lost a single kilo.

(Author's note - the above is just a memo, not even a draft.)[/spoiler]

>>4888
Health issue loli stuff is rare. Thank you for sharing.

>>4892
If that’s the case I found something similar

Gwen Tennyson Gluttony by Gravitysecretagent

Warning: has western loli’s, extreme gluttony and some incest

Gwen patted her stomach after finishing off the last of the ice cream pint in the R.V’s decently-sized fridge. The ice cream that specifically said “Ben Only! Don’t Eat!” on it with a tiny post-it note. “Mhmph~ That dweeb has excellent taste in ice cream.. I love cookie dough crunch.” She licked the cream off her fingers and sat down on the fold-in bed/couch that the R.V had. Ben eventually got up and went to the fridge as he opened the door…and saw his ice cream was nearly empty. “..You ate it all?” Gwen scoffed. “No, of course not! I saved ya a bit~” Ben looked in the tub of ice cream. She ate ALL of the cookie-dough chunks…and just left him a tiny bit of the actual ice cream that was slightly-melted. “You ate all of the good part, Fatass!” Gwen growled. “I am NOT FAT. I just got an appetite~ There’s still a little on my tongue~” She stuck her tongue out with ice cream coating. “Want a lick~?” Ben chuckled. “You’re so gross..” Gwen giggled. “Look, I’m sorry. When we get to the restaurant? I’ll make Grandpa buy you a few tubs for the road, Dork.”
Ben scoffed. “So you can eat them all? I bet you can’t go a DAY without stuffing food into your lips~” Gwen grinned. “Challenge accepted~ I’ll starve myself like a supermodel for 24 hours.” She placed her legs on the table and wiggled her feet in socks. “How hard could that be?” It turns out it was pretty difficult, because 6 hours in, Gwen was already getting cravings. The R.V stopped at Pizza Barn and Grandpa decided to order out lunch (since Gwen ate all of the Pizza rolls already..) “..Yeah, I’ll take a large Meat Lover’s, light cheese.. Ben’ll have-..” He got cut off. “..10 extra-cheesy, pepperoni and italian sausage, medium pizzas!” Gwen bit her lip and held her stomach. “..I’ll uh…Have a soda..” Ben scoffed. “A soda, really fatty?” Gwen gave him a dirty look. “Fine, water!” The pizza boxes were pushed into the window where the R.V had parked and Ben already began to dig into the food to toy with her.
“Mhmph..~URRP~..Yummy! I love pizza, don’t you Gwen~ Want a bite?” He held out a slice of pizza for her before…snatching it back. “Oops, Sorry~ You’re on a diet!” Gwen snarled gently. “..I could pound you into oblivion, Dweeb.” Gwen finally couldn’t take anymore and when the chubbier Ben walked to the bathroom after eating 5 personal-pan pepperoni pizzas.. She quickly opened the box and proceeded to stuff her face with slice, after slice, after slice. Ben quickly opened the bathroom door. “AH-HA! I KNEW IT!” ..Gwen gulped. She got her hand caught in the cookie jar as sauce, cheese, and a tiny piece of pepperoni covered her face. “Okay, Okay. You caught me. ~Sighhhh~.. What do I have to do for the bet? You want me to walk around topless again for a week, Perv?” Ben shook his head. “Nope! I have a WAY better idea~” He grinned. “..You love eating so much? You have to stuff your face at every single restaurant we see on the way across the country.” Gwen licked her lips of pizza grease. “That actually doesn’t sound so bad..”

They soon passed a “Burger Hut” on the highway. Ben grinned. “Stop here, Gramps!” Grandpa looked concerned. “Uh, we just ate?” Ben grinned. “Gwen made a bet with me and now has to eat at EVERY restaurant on the way to our destination.” Grandpa sighed. “That’s a real dumb bet, Gang. ..and it’ll cost me a lot..” Ben whispered to him. “Think of the money you’ll save when Gwen is too bloated and stuffed to eat all of the groceries..” Grandpa thought about it for a moment…and quickly turned into the restaurant. Ben grinned. “To make it fair and fun I’ll be ordering for you. You can stop at anytime…but just know I’ll make you do something way worse than this.” Gwen raised a brow. “Like what, Dork?” Ben grinned and rubbed her soft shoulders. “I’ll make you walk around naked at Aliencon 2006~” ..Gwen gulped and quickly darted her eyes. “J-just go get the food.” Ben went into the restaurant and brought his Grandpa a small fry and a bacon-behemoth burger and…set the large bag of fast food in front of Gwen which included 5 bacon-behemoths, 10 large fries, a 50 piece nugget, a cookie, and a large milkshake. Gwen’s eyes widened. “..I can’t eat all of this, are you nuts?!” Ben grinned softly. “You chicken~? Bakawk~..” Gwen glared and grabbed his shirt. “..The only cock around here is you, Dickbeater. Don’t think I haven’t caught you huffing my panties.”
Ben scoffed and watched Gwen eat the nuggets in spicy buffalo sauce, take a bite of her burger, and stuff fries into her mouth. “..and like I haven’t caught you staring at my dick when I take a piss outside..” Gramps tried to ignore what they were saying by turning up the radio to some 80s rock. Gwen finished off the fries, sipped her milkshake, and devoured the cookie with a soft ~URRP~ escaping her lips.. “..F-full now..” Ben poked her tubby muffin top that was pushing her kitty-cat shirt up. “..I don’t think so~ I’ll go get you more burgers, Fatty.” Gwen pouted and rubbed her belly to try and soothe it as Ben went to order some more for her. He had BIG plans for his fatass cousin.

Gwen had eaten at over 50 restaurants in a couple of states and her body was taking the blunt force of it. She had tubbier tits, a double-chin, a wide and sagging gut that hung down on her lap, cellulite-covered cottage cheese thighs, and a tubby ass. “Aw, Is Piggy-Gwenny getting full~?” He held up another slice of pizza. “..~BURRP~..M-maybe a little..” The 324 pound girl was becoming a bloated mass of fast food. Gwen’s shirt could barely fit and was more like a make-shift bra to contain her tubby and swollen tits. “C-can y-you..~HUFF~..Slow down, Dweeb? I feel like I’m going to burst..” Ben grinned softly and gently squeezed and jiggled her belly in his fingers. “..What’s wrong~? I thought you could take it~” Gwen groaned as she felt her swollen belly wobble and ~GURGGLECHRRN~...as he pushed another slice of pizza in her face. The R.V had a ton of garbage bags of everything from fried chicken buckets, ice cream tubs, to mexican food containers. “..B-ben, I’m s-serious…Stop~..” She moaned as he pushed a marinara-sauce smothered mozzarella stick into her lips. “..Make me~”
Gwen huffed. “P-please I need to slow down..” Ben chuckled. “Fine~ I’ll stop feeding you so much if you take your shirt off and let me rub your gut~” Gwen’s tubby cheeks flushed pink as her double-chin wobbled. “..D-dweeb..” She slowly removed her sweaty shirt and let her tubby, doughy, swollen tits and taut nipples sag down. Ben began to grope, squeeze, and rub her flabby belly in his fingers as he squeezed the supple area and stretch marks around her deep and sweaty belly button. “O-oh, B-ben~..” She felt dirty as she…gasped and saw Ben’s thick, hard, erection poking against his pants…and decided to go for it. She grabbed his cheeks and softly kissed him on the lips. Ben chuckled~ “Someone’s excited! Maybe I’ll take my pants off…if you finish your pizza~” Gwen opened her mouth wide and pointed into it with her pudgy finger. She was loving this now as much as her pervert cousin.
Gwen wobbled out of “Taco Queen” and felt her bloated ass taking the blunt form of her obesity. She loudly ~FRRRTHBBPLPRT’d~ out against her kitty panties. “..B-ben I can’t eat another taco.. M-my ass is on fire…I think I felt something wet..” Ben chuckled and lovingly stroked, caressed, and rubbed her gut from behind as he squeezed her pudgy stretch-marked belly flesh. “Go relax in the R.V, Gwen~ I’ll go get you some burritos for the road.” The 500 pound morbidly red-haired girl nodded and wobbled into the R.V as her globular, round, cellulite filled ass cheeks got stuck in the entrance way. Ben was going to make sure she got the Xtra-hot and bean-filled kind that ruined her ass~...He loved hearing her blast gas while they were sleeping together in the same couch-bed~ Gwen’s mobility was becoming a serious concern as she already had trouble waddling around anywhere. Gwen’s girth was only going to become a bigger problem with every pound she gained…and yet Ben still wanted to continue. Something told him that Gwen didn’t mind either~..as long as they both were enjoying it.

>>4896

Warning Minor bursting

The two alien-loving geeks spent a lot of time together now while Ben continued to feed and keep up the bet. They were half-way across the country and she seemed like a bottomless pit of food. “..BEEEEN!” She yelled angrily as her nude, wobbling, double-bellied, triple-chinned face stood in the tiny, pathetic, small R.V bathroom where her fleshy folds and rolls touched every bit of the bathroom wall. “What is it?” Ben stopped reading his comic and opened the door to see his cousin’s flabby bulk. “I can’t fit into the shower anymore! How am I supposed to bathe anymore?” Ben cheekily jokes. “A garden hose and a sponge?” Gwen pouted. “Ben, this is serious! I’m already an obese pig…now I won’t be able to clean myself!” Ben’s dick throbbed as he groped her double-belly that sagged to her knees. She was 600 pounds. “..If you can’t fit in the shower…you might not be able to leave the R.V.” Gwen scoffed. “I can TOO!” She waddled out of the small bathroom and went to the R.V’s door…but something was wrong. Gwen’s fleshy and dimpled ass was…stuck in the metal frame… ~HUFF~ ~WHEEZE~ ~PANT~.. “Ben, Get the butter..”
Gramps thought the bet was going on far enough...and they were almost to the destination anyway. Ben had grown…chubby recently. He had been eating the same food Gwen had been eating for the past month. He had a pudgy double-chin, a soft muffin-top that covered his crotch, wide hips, and soft girl-like moobs. “..Hey, Gramps~ Gwen wants MORE chicken. Can we go to a El Fried Poultry or something?” Gramps nodded with a bit of disgust as Ben went back into the R.V’s master bedroom…where the 900 pound red-haired slob was. Gwen was an immobile, fat, blob of blubber. She had 6 chins, flabby cheeks, doughy jowls, with sauce and crumbs in her chin folds. She had flabby bingo-wings, tubby sausage fingers, a memory-foam mattress for an ass, and a large amount of cellulite and stretchmarks all over along with thick veins. Ben smiled. “I told gramps to get more chicken, Babe~..” He unwrapped a stick of butter, took off Gwen’s oxygen mask, and stuffed it into her mouth as she ~Mooooaned~ softly and winced. She had sausage toes swollen in cankle flab, doughy legs that weighed her down, and flabby spare tire and belly-folds all over. She was covered in ice cream, chicken crumbs, fast-food grease, and various candy stains from Gas Station Quick-stops for snacks. Gwen’s heart monitor ~BEEPED~ as she ~HUFFED~ and could barely breathe…but was extremely turned on. “B-ben~..I’m so horny~..C-can you hump me~?” Ben chuckled. “Sure, I might need some flour to find your wet spot though~..” He teased her and stradled on top of her gut. “..You’re such a sexy pig, Gwen~ I’m never going to stop stuffing your face~ Bet or not~”
Gwen lovingly drooled on her flabby food-stained chin-folds. “..Feed me bigger, Dweeb~ I wanna be…~FRRRTHBBPLPRTSQUUUIRT~-..” She added more putrid, wet, brown crap to the pile behind her. “..-the biggest pig~..I g-guess my heart is through my stomach~ I wanna be YOUR big piggy~..” She lovingly cooed out as she rubbed her gut-flesh with her sausage fingers to soothe her full gut. Ben chuckled and began to ~THRUST~ and hump into her thick, deep, belly button as he held up a feeding tube and funnel…pouring down a thick gainer-shake mix of cookie-dough ice cream, soda, and butter which caused Gwen’s gut to sag off the bed and touch the carpeted R.V floor. “..I’m going to make you as big as a whale~..” Ben waited until he was erect enough…and climbed up on her mountainous belly folds, kneeling on top of her chest and doughy drooping breasts, and began to push his erect girth into her mouth for her to suck down and drink~.. Gwen ~Mmph’d~ and lovingly cooed at him as she slurped his member.
“..A-AH, I LOVE YOU GWEN~..” The flabby cousin yelled as he…~SQUIRTED~ a large, thick, wet glob of jizz into her mouth…but it proved too much. Gwen had been eating, glutting, and stuffing her face until her belly was red, taut, and stuffed…and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “..I…~BURRP~..Love you too Ben-..~GAAKGRGGLECHRRN~” Gwen’s eyes widened as her stomach…~BUUUURSTED~ open from eating too much and she clutched her chest, huffing and panting, as she was having a heart attack. “..B-ben.. G-get 911.. And a…~WHEEZE~..large cheeseburger…” Ben blushed. “Dammit, not again. Sorry Cuz.” He yelled at Gramps. “GRANDPA! GWEN’S GUT RUPTURED! DRIVE US TO THE HOSPITAL PLEASE! Oh, and stop by the drive-thru!”

>>4896
>>4897
Thanks for the second drop. Do you think you have any loli health issue stuff that's more of a slow burn, like the first one you posted?

I'm looking for something realistic and dark. Must involve younger (20-29 year) woman, health issues are a major turn on, so is emberassing situations. Also a turn on is friends or family being "concerned" or "upset" by this woman eating herself to death.

Any suggestions?

>>5044
https://www.deviantart.com/stc9892/gallery/77105589/army-wives

https://www.deviantart.com/stc9892/gallery/77105014/moving-back-home

Emma was a gluttonous girl. For as long as she could remember she always knew "Bigger is better" at 23 years old in a college dorm she stuffed 3 donuts into her mouth, moaning as crumbs fell onto the floor. Her room was filled to the brim with junk cardboard boxes and food crumbs, she only wanted more and more. Her huge belly was stuffed against the desk and hung down as she ripped the bag to shreds stuffing the last few donuts in her mouth "Ooh oh god! Soo god!" Emma moaned as she gulped them down and looked to the computer screen, she had only completed the first page of the document for her environmental language class "Ah ill do it later" Emma grunted as she groaned getting up, at 5'8 and 340 pounds she was a huge girl as she waddled to her bed and fell onto it as it creaked, she figured it was only a matter of time before she needed a new one. Her roommate, Heather on the other hand was a health freak who exercised and only ate 1 meal a day, she was tiny compared to Emma only 5 feet and 120 pounds, she had gotten onto Emma numerous times about cleaning out the dorm but she just scoffed at her. Whereas Heather would rather be out and going to the campus parties Emma was content to just sit in her dorm and stuff her face. She was happy she had the dorm to herself tonight for Heather was at a party across campus, her huge gut let out a loud groan as Emma pouted "That was my last donuts, and I don't have anything else worth appetizing unless..." and she smirked heaving herself up and began looking through Heather's drawers where she found cookies, ice cream, spinach, and cream puffs "im sure she won't mind, after all whats the point in having all this and keeping it to yourself? Besides big better here is hungry!" So without thinking she began stuffing her face with the cream puffs while heating up the ice cream. By midnight she had devoured all of Heather's food except for the spinach as she let out a thunderous belch. "My God soon full" Emma moaned rubbing her huge belly as she smirked "I do hope dear Heather isn't to mad at me, after all I just couldn't help myself" and with that Emma fell fast asleep, dreaming about how huge she would become. The next morning Heather had came into the room and passed out from the party, Emma had already been awake and snuck out to the vending machines to get snacks. She ended up coming back with 15 candy bars 16 sweet rolls and 10 chocolate moon pies. As she came into the room Heather was glaring at her ",what happened to all my food?" "Urm well about that" Emma stared as just then her huge belly grumbled "I just can't believe you Emma, I head out to a party one night and you just have to go through my stuff!" And she stuck her finger into Emma's huge belly as she tried not to groan again "Well sorry but a big woman like me needs to eat and I ate all I had so I figured you wouldn't mind!" "I can't believe you! You know what I'm not dealing with this, I'm just going to get another dorm mate! I'm tired of dealing with your filthy mess!" "Fine by me! See if I care!" Emma retorted as Heather walked out slamming the door. She began stuffing her face with the moon pies as she unwrapped her candy bars not caring what just happened a few minutes prior. By the next day Heather had moved out and Emma was due to have a new dorm mate, she only hoped they wouldn't be a bother so she was quite surprised when another girl stepped into the room, as Emma was shocked. The girl was blonde about 5 feet 10 and was quite fat, her gut looked even bigger than Emma's, which made her jealous. "Hey my names sarah" She said shaking Emma's hand "Nice..um nice to meet you" Emma replied taken aback by the large girl "Well I've got to get to studying right now but I thought I would introduce myself first, but im hungry" and she opened her pack, taking out about 10 wrapped burgers from mickey ds. "Always gotta be prepared when your a girl like me" Sarah said grinning as she stuffed a burger into her mouth, Emma was in shock that she now had a roommate who was just as gluttonous as she was, she felt a ting of jealousy Sarah obviously outweighed her but she would catch up to that. "So I was thinking how would you feel about going out to this buffet off campus? I hear its soo good! All you can eat!" And Emma's eyes widened "You don't have to tell me twice!". The two huge girls crammed into Sarah's prius where they drove to the buffet, it was old country style but had whatever you could think of you wanted. They both ended up having over 10 plates, as Sarah groaned "God i am soo full" "You can say that again" Emma said with a laugh. As they walked to the car Emma caught a glimpse of Sarah's huge behind, it was even bigger than hers had ever been. "Hey Sarah not to be rude because I'm quite the chubby one myself but how much do you weigh" "Oh about 380!" Sarah said grinning "Wow, last I checked i was 340!" "You gotta catch to me skinny!" Sarah said laughing. From that day on the two got on great, watching old movies stuffing their faces rather than studying or going to the parties. They attended that same buffet 3 times a week, sometimes getting over 20 plates. One day as the two girls walked across campus, Heather was with her two friends and spotted them scowling "Oh god its my old room mate! And look at the fatty she's hanging with!" As her friends burst into laughter pointing and grinning Heather sighed "It worked out for the best anyway". Emma and Sarah were playing a old retro style video game on Sarah's console when a knock came from the door "I'll get it" Emma said groaning heaving herself up as she answered,it was Jeremy. Jeremy was their dorm neighbor who had moved in just a week prior, he seemed like your average geeky college guy he had a small beard a beer belly and wore a cap, he was about 5 feet 9 "I heard there was a party going on across the way, I was going and wanted to ask if you guys would be interested" and Emma hesitated, she would rather stay in and stuff her face than go out but for once she thought she would go for it "Hey Sarah wanna go?" "As long as there's food all bets are on me!" She said laughing . Emma picked out a oversized dress to wear hoping to catch the guy of one of the college studs while Sarah just wore her old plain clothes. The two set out half past nine and got there, it was loud music blared and there were pizza boxes all over the table "Oh yes!" Sarah cried as she rushed herself to the table, pushing past several skinny girls as Emma was not far from behind her. The two of them grabbed up at least ten slices and headed off to another room, while Heather watched them glaring. After they had ate and got full they passed out on the couch after Sarah made out with Clark, one of the quarter backs who was 6'3 and over 200 while Emma did with Quinton, a 300lb liner for the football team who was 6'1. The next morning the girls awoke and invited Clark and Quinton to their dorm the next night which they agreed. The girls couldn't believe they had scored dates with some of the football studs, so much so they celebrated again with a trip to the buffet. Emma had packed on at least 20 pounds since Sarah moved in weighing in at 380 while Sarah was up to 410. Heather was jealous that the girls had gotten with the football studs and gossiped with her friends about it, the news spreading around the college.

Daisy was disappointed, ever since she was born she always wanted to be "Big" but here she was entering last year of academy at just a peak 110 pounds and only 4ft 9. Her best friend Delilah was the opposite however as she stood about 5'7 and weighed 330 where most of the weight settled in her great big gut. Daisy pouted at the sight Espically whenever they went anywhere Delilah always took up the room and got the most looks and stares, thats what daisy wanted it was what she desired most. But one day while they were at the carnival daisy went to a fortune tellers tent who was named Madame Mischief. The older woman had wrinkles on her face and a big brown bon for hair with cat like eyes but a sinister grin came over her as daisy entered the tent "What can i do for you dear" she almost purred as Daisy said "I wanna be big, i wanna be so big everyone will notice me I'll get the most stares everywhere i go i can get whatever i want!" "I can do that for you dear no problem" The madame said as she beckoned daisy close and whispered in her ear "Ah la boom dah ro Ah mah Rah dro Ah rah Da" and with that she gave her a wink "Thee spell will take place tonight, by tommrow my dear you will be a big big girl" and Daisy couldn't help but grin. She thanked the madame profusely as she ran to catch up with Deliah who was munching on five hot dogs. That night before daisy fell asleep she felt a strange occurrence within her. The next morning she awoke and looked in shock, she had grown over a foot over night and was now 5'10, she would tower over deliah and looked in shock at her now huge hanging gut, turned on she ran to the scale and looked in shock as it came in at 290 pounds. Daisy began dancing around the room and then raided the pantry, gobbling everything she could get her greedy hands on. Delilah was dumb founded when she met daisy later that day "Good god what happened to you!" She yelled as daisy smirked "The fortune teller made me the big girl i always wanted to be! Now come on fatso this big girl needs to eat!" As the two went to the local buffet and headed up on plates. With her newfound body daisy was able to sustain more food and devoured over 20 plates beating Deliah who stopped at 10. Daisy enjoyed pushing past people who got in her way, where it used to be people would run her over in lines. She then ordered over 30 pizzas when she got home, propped her feet up and told Delilah to feed her every last night, as Deliah gulped nervously and did as she was told. Daisy was in a food coma the rest of the night and made deliah stay because she wanted to be waited on from now on, hand and foot so Deliah did just that. Day after day, night after night, Deliah fed daisy dish after dish, she ordered over 20 things each time to feed the obese virl2. Deliah herself had started to slim down due to this, she no longer had a appetite anymore. The day finally came where daisy had hit 500 pounds, deliah was barley 240 and had to help the huge girl do everything now. But it all came to halt whenever Deliah was helping her outside when she tripped and fell, crushing Deliah. The officials came and ruled it a accident as Daisy was sent to a Care Facility much to her dismay. But her caretakers, a man named ben and a woman named Barbara secretly fed her even when they weren't supposed to and daisy enjoyed the attention. They helped her gain all the way to 640 pounds, daisy groaned as ben fed her a tube full of heavy cream "Oh god soo good" Daisy groaned as Barbara rubbed daisys titanic stomach. She had gotten so big a new bed had to be ordered, one that was for heavy machinery. Soon after breaking the 700lb mark there was a knock on the door, and in walked Madame Mischief as daisy got a good look at her. The madame was a huge woman, easily 6'3 and at least 400lbs a huge double belly and a massive backside, the madame leaned in close to daisy and whispered "Never thought you would see me again did you? My big girl" and she began to hum a tune "Ah mah rah do ah ma rah do Ah ma rah do" as daisy felt herself getting smaller and smaller, she began to scream in a high pitched voice as soon she was reduced to her old form, with sagging skin as she looked in horror as the Madame grinned evilly "And that's what i do, for girls like you" and she left the room as daisy began to scream and protest in a high pitched voice, where she was eventually sent to a institution and underwent a new training program to lose the sagging skin. After she was released she was left to now wander the street, bags under her eyes and wrinkly skin as she begged day after day at the local shopping center for money, somedays she got thrown things at her, somedays she got yelled at but all that changed one day when a man named thomas told her he could help her change her life. He drove her to his huge mansion nearby the sea and as she walked in there was a rable2 full of food as thomas simply said "Dig in" with a wink as she lunged for the table. 5 years later she was back to her old weight and married to thomas

Dana had finally hit the 330lb mark as she gobbled down a cheese burger in Hardy Har Hars Burger Bar. She rubbed her big giant gut moaning with glee as she stuffed her next one into her large mouth, she could feel her panta beginning to tighten up knowing soon enough she would up anothet pant size which she loved the idea of. Her goal was to be 400lbs before she went to see her great uncles in maine next year, she knew they all would be nothing but shocked. She knew every man looked at her magnificent rear and she enjoyed that feeling very much, she was lucky half the weight went straight to her ass while the other went to her big hanging belly which she liked to grope and fondle, the only thing she desired more was for a big man to grope it for her. Although she had been on many dates in the past with men the one she liked the most was Evan, who wasn't like the others. Evan had a big build, huge muscular arms and a shaved head, a handle bar mustache and a big brown beard which would make even the manliest of men jealous but what she loved the most was thick accent, as he originated from the Czech republic. She had been seeing Evan since they met at a coffe house. Evan was only just under 5'11 but she didn't care, he kept her fed and happy. She laid on the couch as Evan kept bringing the pizza slices to her fat face as she gulped them down, sauce staining her lips as she moaned "You eat good my dear" Evan hissed as Dana could only groan before evan stuffed another inside her greedy mouth "My dear, i am going back home for the holiday next month with my brother ricardo, would you want join? My family can cook lots of things for you my dear, all the more for you to fatten up!" "Yes pleaaaaasseee" dana sais moaning as Evan brought another slice to her lips. Dana munched on two huge ice cream sundaes as Evan only draink his protein shake, they were at lakeside park where dana could feel all eyes on her monsterous ass "Do not fear my pretty, they are only jealous of those assets!" Evan hissed as he delievered a slap to Dana's ass, her blubber cheeks shook as she let out a moan of pleasure "Soon it will be twice as big as you eat more and more! I'll have you grinding that thing on me even when you get to 800 lbs!" And dana could only moan in response. Dana had went to the candy store and picked up all she could afford, she was determined to be Evans fat fantasy as she brought it to the counter the man behind the cashier eyed her up "Will dat be all?" He said as dana only nodded as he smirked "Names demarcus, dang girl i just have to say you is lookin fine today!" "Thanks" dana said her fat cheeks turning red "Was wondering if i could yo self out some time" he said grinning as Dana just leaned in close "Sorry romeo im already someone's fantasy" and she grabbed his face and kissed him full on the lips before walking out, making sure he got a good look at her huge butt as she walked out "Hey wait come back!" Demarcus yelled running out of the store after her but Dana had quietly slipped away, she har made her way to a taxi before demarcus could even get out the door. Dana stuffed the candies greedily down her throat as she chugged the huge cream Evan had bought and instructed her to use, she let out a moan of pleasure as the cream dribbled down her double chin she gulped it down before letting out a enourmous belch. When she checked the scale over 2 weeks later she was 360lbs, she was pleased to see she was on her way to 400lbs. Evan had insisted she upped her game and began feeding her more and more everyday.

"Can't do it nope can't do it!" Allison said as she eyed the rich desserts inside the bakery as her huge belly grumbeled "Oh to be gone with it i would would like 5 of those sweet cakes erm uh six oatmeal bites, and urm sixteen double fudge bars!" She said as she swiped her card. Allison had been trying to lose weight but she couldn't do it and had finally gave in, she already weighed 260lbs where most of the weight settled in her great big ass while the rest went to her big flabby gut. She cowered away at one of the tables and began stuffing the food into her mouth as she moaned with pleasure, and fondled her flabby gut as she could feel herself become even more empowered by the minute. After gulping everything down she headed to the food court to order "The Big Mama's Pizza" which she planned to stay home after stopping at Burger Joe's where shr planned to order 2 double ham burgers with onion bites and 2 large chocalate shakes. That night allison laid in bed belching and farting after everything she devoured that day, she moaned with pleasure as she began stuffing snack cakes into her mouth, she knew she was becoming huge and she loved every minute of it. All her life she had been shamed for being "too thin" well now the tables had turned and she would free the lone fat girl she knew she was always meant to be. The next morning she found herself going through at least five drive thrus before bringing home 5 bags and began stuffing her face, she moaned with pleasure as she groped her big gut and released a massive fart from her blubbery cheeks "God i smell" she said not caring as she continued chowing down. A month had passed since then and she now ordered from food delivery every day as she felt to lazy to go thru the drive thru everyday. Each day at least 10 bags would make their way to her door, she moaned as sauce stained her lips as she gulped everything down. She ate at least 5 donuts a day and then eat the later dozen at night, before gulping down on snack cakes. By then she was now 310 lbs, and had go to to the mall to get bigger pants and shirts, which she ended up buying 3 xxxl pants and 2 oversized shirts, before she headed to the food court where she ordered six plates of pasta 10 orders of buffalo wings and 2 pizzas. She went down fast on everything, before long she finished it all and let out a mighty belch as people looked at her in disgust, smirking she had an evil idea as she walked past the two men who have her nasty looks she let out a massive fart from her blubbery cheeks as the men started coughing and cursing every name in the book as they stomped away furiously making allison let out a big laugh. Her back had now formed rolls where they showed in her shirt but she didn't care, this is what she wanted and what she would have. She was just annoyed having to keep buying clothes sizes as they went up and up, before long she would have to order things before she became too big to wear anything from the stores. Her friend, Marissa had commented on her weight before in a snarky tone but Allison paid no mind, she figured she was just jealous afraid to see through her own gluttony. As the months passed her weight went drastically up as she weighed in at the doctors at 359 lbs "This doesn't look good you need to be on a diet" Dr lucas said sternly but Allison pouted "No doc I'd rather be fat and happy than skinny and miserable" and dr lucas just groaned "Alright then but don't say i didn't warn you" and after that Allison was determined to become even bigger. She ordered at least 10 times a day from food apps and went to the store and stocked up on grocieres, feeling free she locked the door and began stuffing her face with glee. It had been weeks since Marrisa had heard or seen Allison and was worried, she went over there and saw her friend on the couch, wearing a too small shirt with crumbs in her lap as her massive gut hung from it, allison let out a loud yawn and groaned heaving herself up "What are you doing here" she said glaring at Marissa "I was worried, look what you've done to yourself ally, if you don't stop this nonsense i won't speak to you ever again" "See if i care" Allison spat as Marissa slammed the door shut and left. Allison stuffed a donut in her mouth and checked the scale, she had become way to big even see but was unseen to realize she was now 430lbs. She had been forced to order custom sizes over a month ago but she didn't care, she was living her dream. She fondled her massive rolls as she chowed down on greasy chinese from the corner store and released a massive fart from her titanic cheeks as she fanned the air "God i smell bad" she said stuffing a egg roll in her mouth, crumbs fell down her thick double chin as she chewed it up and moaned, she then set her sights on the low mein and began slurping it down "God i am a fat hog" Allison thought as she crammed another egg into her mouth. Her next visit to Dr. Lucas was not a good one, he shook his head in disappointment as she crammed into his office, her massivr thighs almost getting stuck in the door frame "Look im done being nice, im putting you on a diet starting today!" "No thanks doc, like i said-" "Its not a recommndation its a order this time" the doctor said sternly but Allison glared at him "You can't make me!" And she walked out of the door not even looking back. She ended up going through five drive thrus on the way home and ordered 10 buckets of fried chicken. She gulped down the greasy chicken and slathered rich butter over her fried chicken fries "God so good" she moaned through a mouthful of food as she shoved 6 fries into her mouth and swallowed them whole. Her weight ballooned to 480lbs as she rarley left the house anymore and had now stuck to having grocerys delievered, she had to have a new bathroom reinstalled as her former one was becoming to tight for her growing thighs. Night after night, day after day she stuffed her face full of glee not even caring about the consequences, but her ego would be her downfall. The next day she had awoken and planned to shower in her new bath, but wanted breakfast first. She plowed her way into the kitchen and grabbed a snack cake but slipped on the wet floor from the sodas she spilled the night before, she let out a yell and fell to the ground. She groaned trying to get up bug no luck at all and realized yelling for help would be fruitless, she layed there for over a day before a neighbor found her and she was taken to urgent care. She was told she would be moved into a care facility but she refused it and just wanted to go home, she had only sustained minor injuries but the care officials were more concered about her growing weight. Going to the grocery store was now a chore as she rode in a mobility scooter, she didn't care as she piled her basket full of snack cakes. She had at least fifty boxes of them and 10 frozen pizzas. She huffed with sweat in as she made her way to her van which she had to buy from a retailer to house her massive size. At home all she did was stuff in her face and layed around, not even caring anymore. She soon hit 512 pounds and showed no signs of stopping, shoving several pieces of popcorn into her mouth and gobbling down her remains of a fresh cake from a bakery. One day as she rolled through the drive thru of burgerland she saw marissa walking past, who caught a glimpse of her and kept walking "Ah who cares who needs her" Allison said stuffing a donut in her mouth as she ordered fifteen crispy burger combos and twenty chicken patty supremes. Things would soon take a turn for the worst as she headed home and was to slow at the light and hit by a driver, she luckily survived but lost both of her big toes and 2 fingers but she didn't care, she was just glad to have survived but the doctors pushed her to be in a care facility but she refused until she became stuck attempting to get through her door, realizing she was simply to fat to live there anymore. She agreed to a care facility and begged for junk food but they only fed her health, determined to get her down to a more respectable 200lbs but Allison refused, not eating any of their health foods they were forced to just give it to her. She finally had enough one day and escaped in the night, in one of their care vans. She only got halfway down the highway before she was caught by patrol. The facility sued her and she was sent to a institution for women. She was given special care and only fed two meals a day but she convinced her cellmate to sneak her more. Unknown to her she soon ballooned to 630lbs inside the institute thanks to her friend sneaking her meals, her scooter barley contained her as her gargantuan cheeks hung off the sides, she had to have help in and out of bed but she didn't care she loved being pampered and dealt with by the care workers, it drove her ego through the roof bossing them around and getting whatever she wanted. She chowed down on every meal she was snuck and could only dream of how much bigger she would become. King sized candy bars, pasta, and fries all went down her gullet. By the end of the anniversey of her staying there she weighed 720lbs and was confied to her bed and had meals fed to her, she could no longer move on her own. But she was happy and that was all that mattered, as her cell mate continued to feed her each and every night, never stopping once. On the day of her hearing she weighed 760lbs, her deep voice carried through the room as she announced her plea in a wheeze, her voice going from that of a valley girl to a gravelly ladyw since her gain as she was ordered to stay there fifteen more years, where she would be released at 60 years old. She made it another 5 years there until she was now 1900 pounds, she was the biggest and most massive woman in there. She had to have 10 caretakers do her deeds for her everyday, her deep voice could only speak a few words before she started wheezing, and the care takers had to respond for her.

Belinda moaned as the phone rung, crumbs tricked down her thick double chin as she annoyingly answered "Yeah what is it!?" She said in her gravelly voice, when she was 100 pounds her voice had sounded not that far off from a average woman but ever since she became gluttonous she had developed a burging baritone, replacing her light sounding voice "Um yes i am calling about the new phone service i would like to provide and I" but before he could say another world belinda ended the call and slammed the phone down "God why do they always bother me!?" She moaned and lifted herself up grunting as sweat formed over her brow she snatched her hand to the day old unwrapped snickers bar by the counter and shoved it in her mouth before she got up and went to the bathroom as she plopped down on the toilet, which now her huge ass hung off both the sides, she would need a new one installed soon. As she did her business she heard the door slam open and shut, her roomate amary was home "Oh god im so sick of her" Belinda moaned rolling her eyes, Amary was a health freak and had a huge ego. "You smell!" Amary shouted as belinda emerged from the bathroom "Screw off, my days already lame enough!" Belinda snapped as she grabbed two bags of chips and plopped onto the couch, shoving them in her mouth as Amary retored "You'll never be skinny like me eating like that tubby!" But belinda ignored her stuffing her face. Belinda had went from 150lbs to 320lbs in over a year, she had always been a lazy girl who rather eat than do anything else, she had enourmous thighs and a gut that was strangely not proportionate with the rest of her body, instead of being big and huge like you would expect it was small and flabby and hung over her pants, most of the weight straight to her huge thighs and butt.

>>5162
I really like this one! More?

>>5170
Dana waddeled into the walmart, her huge thighs rubbing together as she pushed around the shopping cart, she was already out of breath and sweaty as she shoved 4 pieces of hard candy into her mouth, she could feel the looks and judgemental stares and she was loving every minute of it. That morning she had weighed in at 380lbs, her massive gut hung from her shirt as her two gigantic ass stretched her pants to their limits, and her massive thighs wobbeled.She went straight through the frozen foos aisle and 10 at least fifteen frozen pizzas in her cart and 10 cartons of ice cream, her face dripping with sweat as she shoved a "Munch-a-Crunch" bar into her mouth as chocolate stained her thick cheeks as she headed to the register, she groaned seeing a huge line on every aisle and decided to go to the mcdonalds inside the walmart until the lines went down. She ordered five mcdoubles, 3 caramel shakes, two chocolate freezes, and sixteen quarter pounders. She gulped down the food as she moaned with pleasure, fondling her huge gut as she slurped down the shakes, she crunched her way through every bite as sauce went everywhere on her big red lips "Oh god sooo good" she moaned as she shoved anothet one of the quarter pounders in her mouth, she soon finished all thst was left snd groaned as she grabbed the table and heaved herself up, she grabbed the cart snd began pushing her way toward the lines. She went through the one quickly as she began putting everything on the register she grabbed at least 10 candy bars and chips and put them on the register as her vast gut groaned with hunger, as she spoke to the man at the register she was entranced how deep and rigorous her voice had become, she'd always been told she sounded like Miley Cyrus when she was much thinner but now with all of tha extra weight gain she sounded more like a fat Demi moore. As the groceries went into the cart she swiped her card and began pushing her way past people to get to her prius which hardly fit her anymore, her huge gut was pressed against the steering wheel. She unloaded everything into the prius and shoved herself into the front seat as the car rocked back and forth "I'll need something bigger before longer" and she started back home. Once she arrived she put two pizzas in the oven and began gulping down one of the ice cream cartons, she stuffed it into her face as she gulped down the milky liquid, it dripped down her fat double chin as she moaned, she knew Evan would be in heaven watching this. After devouring both pizzas she went straight to sleep with a bag of chips on her lap, as she groaned tossed and turned until in the middle of the night her vast gut let out a low rumbling sound "Dang it!" She said quickly hurring her way straight to the bathroom, barley able to make it into the door of her gigantic hips. A week later she had finally over 400lbs now at 412 and she celeberated by stuffing at least 25 cookies from the bakery into her mouth while Evan had watched. Feeling to tired now when she went to get groceries she opted for one of the scooters to drive around as she threw bags and bags of chips into her cart and headed for the deli as she felt her gargantuan gut grumble, she ordered 13 cookies and 5 cakes but lost patience on waiting and headed over to the McDonald's once again, where she ordered 10 mc double combos and 13 apple pies. As she stuffed her gluttonous face with the pies she could only imagine how much bigger she would grow, she wanted to be a 600lb fatty who had to have reinforced seats on buses and airlines, she grow to be a massive woman before it was over with.

>>27
That story was extremley depressing, any way to re write it and change the ending to where Emma survives and undergoes liposuction to lose all the weight but is left with sagging skin as punishment for her gluttonous and greedy nature ?

If anyone could have predicted Taylor Mauldin's massive gain it would have been her sister in arms Tandy. Taylor Mauldin always drought to keep strong and fit, she trained her big muscular arms but things got bad one morning when on the way home from her daily run she caught the sniff of sweets, which led her to the old bakery right outside of town, she always got a weird feeling when she went in the place but brushed it off "Would you like some pie my sweet?" The old woman from behind the counter almost pleased, she had a big wrinkly nose and soulless eyes but the greedy and ego driven Taylor failed to notice "I'll have it all!" She blurted out as the old man shoved to her 3 big boxes of pie and 2 oversized cakes "Now run along my sweet. And please do return" the woman said as a wicked grin crossed her face. Taylor returned to that same shop everyday for the next 10 months. She slowly quit doing her runs and hitting the gym, Tandy got worried about her when Taylor had started sporting a gut during tryouts, even the coach made remarks about it. She soon became to tired and worn out when all the girls had to run so she eventually quit showing up for practice and went straight for the bakery. She ballooned from a slim 140 to 330 in those 10 months. Taylor would wit at home and stuff her fat face with pie crumbs and sweet, moaning all the while and fondled her big hanging gut. Taylor had always had a ego but when she was much thinner she would mock and bully the girls with soft pudge on their stomachs and thighs during training season and more than once humiliated a fat girl in public, now Taylor knew how it felt. She felt eyes on her wherever she went, she heard snickers and mocking behind her back, she had double back rolls now for everyone to see. Even going to the community pool now she felt ashamed, all eyes on her huge bloated form. But her greed was to much, she continued going to the bakery while she continued gaining, soon getting into the 400s. Her face was fat and wide, she moaned shoving some cookies down her gullet as she rubbed her big double gut which hung from her shirt, and her massive thighs that jiggle when she walked, although her ass had the least effect it was still flabby and wide and her arms had developed hanging fat underneath them. Tandy had scorned her for her greed multiple times trying to convince her to do workouts but it did no good, Tandy had finally convinced her to come to the gum but it was fruitless. Taylor groaned as her big gut flopped up and down as she ran on the treadmill, sweat pouring down her face as she coughed and wheezed but it did no good, out of breath she walked right next to the donut shop next door and ordered 2 dozen and 5 milkshakes. The old woman in fact was a witch who knew Taylor was a ego driven bully who got off bullying those bigger than her and sought to teach her a lesson, but Taylor would never find out she was to blinded by her greed. Taylor soon started to ride a scooter to the bakery getting out of breath so quickly she would pile her basket high full of sweets from the old woman. Tandy herself had been almost lured to the shop but steered clear of it because she saw what happened to Taylor. One day Taylor took a fall in the village and had to be escorted away in a ambulance, it took over five men to haul her massive form. She ended up there for high sugar levels, she was announced a diabetic but it not stop her she still continued to eat from the bakery not caring. It got out of control the last morning Taylor would ever step foot in there, she was 630lbs now and looked nothing like her former self anymore, she had a triple chin as she spoke in her burgering baritone that had increased as she got fatter and fatter, a far cry away from the high girly voice she once had. She stood up as her flesh thighs jiggle and her massive gut hung nearly to her knees "Gimme more!" She snarled as the woman only gave her one "Oh? Why is that?" The old woman said snarikly "I want more and you WILL give me more!" Taylor growled as The old woman grinned evilly "I don't think so, ill only give you what I see fit, now please fit" "No you WILL give me more old hag! I WILL HAVE MORE!" Taylor roared as the Old woman leaned in and said barley above a whisper "No piggy" and Taylor slammed her fist through the sweets case as glass went everywhere Taylor began grabbing and stuffing whatever she could into her mouth as the old woman stood back and watched, Taylor grew bigger and fatter as she stuffed her face, she moaned and groaned and devoured everything making her now 750 pounds, she tried to catch her balance and slipped falling to the ground as the floor shook her vast gut out in front of her she tried to get up but was to massive to move "Help me! HELP ME UP YOU OLD HAG!" Taylor snarled but the old woman just smirked "No piggy you did this to yourself!" And with that she left the bakery as Taylor screams curses and taunts could be heard from miles away. It was only 2 days later when she was found passed out inside the bakery, a crane had to be used to haul her out of there and she was sent to a institute for obese girl. She stayed there and continued to gain until she reached 1800 pounds, becoming almost the biggest girl in the facility next to Amanda who was 2400 pounds. Tandy still came and visited her gigantic friend from time to time, where she could barley speak above a whisper in her deep baritone and would wheeze for breath, soon it got so bad she had to be hooked up to oxygen to even speak. She wheezed maybe 3 words out before she needed oxygen, her greed had come before her pride.She had been offered liposuction countless times but she refused, as she only wanted to grow more even against the warnings the caretakers constantly said.

>>5174
This Dana chick seems like a real keeper :) But would love to hear more health stuff because with those unhealthy meals and snack got to affect something.

>>5222
Dana had awoke that morning, she groaned and heaved herself out of bed as her feet thudded to the flore it shook as she stretched and groaned heading for the kitchen as her gargantuan thighs rubbed against the door frame, the day earlier she had weighed in at 430lbs and had a doctors appointment today, something she was not looking forward to. Her tank top did little to cover her massive hanging gut as she stuffed some cereal into her mouth, and put on a too tight blue bathrobe and went to check the mail. The drive to the doctors was uneventful, and even more trouble getting into the waiting room. Her two ton ass overtook the tiny chairs in the waiting room "CALDWELL!" cried the shrill man from the doorway as Dana groaned and gripped the sides of the chair, heaving herself up. She waddled behind him to a room where she would await the doctor. Her doctor was a woman named Doctor Meredith now Dana had always envied this Meredith, the woman obviously went to the gym had a tight butt and always wore big bars to flirt with the other doctors, Dana knew she was the talk of the town but not for those reasons."So it seems you have some bad internal problems, you will need to loose at least 100 pounds and then I can fix you up with a trainer" "No thanks" Dana muttered and crossed her arms "Fine but don't say I didn't warn you lardo" Meredith snapped and left the room, leaving Dana shocked and humiliated at those words. Her ego would soon get the best of her. For over a week later after gulping down 3 chilli dogs at the local park Dana was headed back to the front gate when she caught her breath and fell to the ground., it took 4 four men to lift her onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. She had to be pumped full of liquids and wear a breathing mask, she had just survived a heart failure. The head doctor had a stern talking with her, telling her she would diet if she wanted to live and offered liposuction but she refused it all, as she was put on a liquid diet for 3 weeks, but of course that wouldn't satisfy the greedy dana. As soon as she was released from the hospital she hit a burger joint and ordered sixteen milkshakes and 10 burgers. She continued eating like this for another week or so and collapsed again in the middle of a Walmart. This time she was diagnosed with a rare internal condition and was moved into a care facility, something she was not happy with. Her weight was Moderated constantly but she had managed to sweet talk one of the male orderlys into bringing her food and he did just that. He brought her food every night and day when no one was looking, her weight continued to climb. By the end of her first month at the facility she was 530lbs. Getting up required the help of an orderly and she used a scooter to get around the facility. She wore a massive moo moo that covered all of her gargantuan gut, but she liked it for some reason she felt free wearing it. The doctor was not happy when he discovered her sugar levels continued to rise and gave a stern talking to at the orderlys and demanded Dana be given no sugary foods whatsoever, but of course the orderly was to cowardly so stop so he kept on feeding her. She soon got to where she didn't feel like even riding the scooter anymore, she stayed in bed as the orderly continued to feed her in secret. By her third month there she was 620lbs, bigger than any of the other woman in the facility. She now wore a breathing mask and had to walk around with a oxygen tube after the orderlys forced her to exercise but she only could take so many steps, she knew there was no going back, she was bound to be a humongous fat woman trapped in the facility forever.

>>5224
So hot! You have no idea how hard this made me.

>>5162
>>5224


Can we get a real proper fit to fat girl story, probably a stuck up cheerleader who loses all her friends.

>>5228

Check out "From feedee to feeder on deviantart it also shows the rise and fall of a massive girl

>>5231

Macey was the top cheerleader, adored by her peers and seemingly the "nice girl" but behind closed doors she was mean and vicious. She was bratty and rude to her CEO father and would reguarly bully the fat girls in class and the hallways. She made herself look "perfect" every morning to attract the looks of all rhe boys, she was an even 5'7 with long blonde hair and dimples on her face, she weighed 150lbs, and put on extreme lotions every morning to her face to look more youthful. She was friends with the 3 other cheerleaders shelley lana and Melody. All three of them were brunettes who were always sucking up to Macey and trying to earn her approval and she enjoyed every minute of it. Recently macey had tripped petunia, a massive girl with a big double belly in the hallway where all the students had erupted in laughter, petunia's face turned bright red and she fled the scene tears steaming her eyes, but little did Macey know she had made a gravr mistake. Petunia bought at least 5 things of weight gain powder and started stuffing them into macey's drinks and lunches inside the locker room, Petunia was careful to make sure Macey would not know. Macey's stomach had started growling with hunger even after she had gulped down her fitness shake and small salad, eventually she could not resist and started buying snacks from the vending machine and eating them in class, much to the annoyance of her physics teacher. She also would lose focus and stuff her face full of junk food at home, sometimes ordering a pizza. By the end of first semester macey weighed in at 170lbs, something the cheer coach was not happy about. "Loughter, you'll have to stay off the sweets if you want to stay on the team!" The big coach Mrs. Hemsworth barked as her three friends snickered but macey shot them a glare and they shut up. Macey's appetite always got the best of her even after she tried to resist, she would find herself stopping at joes doughnuts every day after school, she would order at least 2 dozen to satisfy her growing gut. She would snack on ice cream while browsing the latest netflix arrivals as her weight continued to climb. She found herself unable to fit into a shirt she had just bought last year and she groaned "Looks like its a trip to the mall for me". She took Shelley lana and melody with her to the outlet mall where she spent most of her time inside the dillards and left with 10 pairs of clothes, charging half of her dads credit card. She insisted they stopped at the local steak house on the way home where she ordered 2 ribeye steaks, 3 plates of wings and 2 ice cream sundaes whereas all her friends opted for small salads. They were shocked watching macey stuff her greedy face, they could tell she had put on more weight then before. Macey was having trouble keeping up with the rest of the girls when Mrs. Hemsworth ordered them to run, she was getting slower and slower and the coach was not happy as she left Macey with a strict warning to "lose the flab or no place on the team for you" but for macey that would not be the case. She continued to gain until she was well into the 220s, unknown to her she was now 225lbs. She had a big beer belly and her butt took up most of her thin jeans, something even her friends noticed. She would snack on several candy bars and chips from the vending machine, not even stopping once as the whole cafeteria would watch in awe, while petunia watched from the back of the cafeteria smiling evilly. The coach had finally had enough of macey's shennanigans by the end of the 3rd month of cheer tryouts and told she was cut from the team, macey's eyes watered and she begged for mrs. Hemsworth to reconsider but the coach just yelled at her and walked off, as her friends started laughing and mocking their former leader. Macey cursed them and gave them the finger before driving home. Her father disowned her for being cut from cheer leader and put her with a personal trainer, something she was not happy with. Instead of going to the gym to meet with the trainer like she was supposed to she would just drive to the burger joint and order numerous combos. She soon was left to sit by herself in the cafeteria as she would munch away on numerous snacks while lana shelley and melody would laugh at her behind her back with their new leader Frances, a new girl who had just joined the cheer squad. Macey's popular phase was over, she had become the laughing stock of the school. By the school years end she had balooned to 300lbs, and only had 1 year left there until college but she did not care, instead eating fast food everyday and gulping down several cartons of ice cream. By the next school year no one reconized her anymore, she was 360lbs and had to wear a massive church dress because she ran out of clothes to wear, and everyone laughed and mocked her from then on as she continued to get fatter and fatter.

>>5233
Perfect.

Anyone have the story about a brother and sister trying to get the brothers rich wife to eat herself to death so they could inherit her wealth?

Does anyone know where the story is about a girl named peggy fattening up a guy named bill after they meet at a dance hall?

Let’s get some more unhealthy or morbid stories up in here, please!

https://www.deviantart.com/swivle-tree/art/Your-Favorite-Patient-2-SSBBW-Health-Issues-865525781

>>5967
>Welcome! Expect: Fats, Politics
Yeah, no thanks bud

>>5967
If I had a nickel every time I encountered an EMT who is into death feederism and healthplay, I would have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

>>5973
...who's the other one?

>>5973
Yes, who 0.0

>>5980
>>5985
>fatallyobese (dot) blogspot (dot) com
He had a blog years ago where he would talk about his experience visiting the homes of the morbidly obese as an EMT.

>>5973
Huh, funny that.
I'm not an EMT, but I'm an orderly specialist permanently stationed to the ED.
Maybe this is a thing, people who get exposed to this kind of stuff in smaller doses don't care as much about the faux pas of it?

>>5995
Do you have any interesting stories?

>>6001
A few chonker bed transfers, a few (accidental and unintended) glances past curtains to bare breasted women.
I have one absolute top tier encounter though.
Here's the logs chatting to a friend about when I witnessed the fattest 'trailer park' woman bring her kid into the ED today.
I don't even live in an area, of a country, known for that type of people or behavior!
>built like https://spankbang.com/5nqan/video/ultra+ssbbw+bri but bigger, more topheavy, and flabbier.
>Massive bingo wings, had the most worn-through singlet with armholes that sagged down to where her elbows would be. The only reason it was still 'decent' that way was because she was just so fat the plunging armholes still weren't big enough for a flabby boob to fall out of.
>Visibly no bra, due to how well worn her shirt was it was practically transparent in the right light, with a couple coin sized bits that were pretty much straight holes over the chest that were transparent no matter the light. Her shirt was so thin due to stretching likely (though it was loose over her), that it hid practically nothing of her body where it sat. Could see rolls, could see cellulite. Wouldn't be surprised if it was one of the few things that fit her.
>Wore shorts with an easily hand-sized split up the inseam (and I have big hands, at least 8 by 8 inches). Only discovered it when she sat down. She probably wore them and thought they were "safe" because her gut covered the split so you could only see it from a few angles, even when seated. There was no way she didn't know the split was there.
>When she waddled up to me for screening, not only was she stupidly out of breath, but she had massively slurred speech. Even when she was just standing up, and hadn't been shifting herself for a good minute or two it was nearly difficult for me to make out what she was saying. She never once tried to catch her breath or collect herself. Assumingly she was used to being constantly out of breath and slurred like this.
>Spent a whole lot of time trying to get around masking rules, because she claimed she couldn't breathe with one on, or that it was too hot. Her kid actually ended up scolding her for it. Credit though, she'd been sitting there for about two-to-four hours, hadn't moved, and did still sound puffed when I spoke to her so maybe she genuinely was overheating or struggling with a mask. Panting is a way to relieve heat, and being fat does insulate the body fiercely, demanding more air flow.
>She took up two seats the same way you or I'd take up one.
>Despite all that, her daughter, who was something like 15 or a very young looking 18 or so, still had bigger tits then her.
>When I left, she was still in the waiting room. Never did hear what happened with her. Weird and inappropriate to ask as well.
T'was genuinely amazing to witness. Pretty much all the "I am a massive fatass" boxes ticked.
My only regret was that at the time I was in professional mode and at the end of a busy shift, and was more annoyed at the extra demands her state of being and general behavior put on me, to really appreciate the incidental fetish diamond that had just huffed and wheezed and waddled her poorly clad, fleshy bulk into my waiting room.
To this day, I wonder if she or her partner had a fat fetish. If not, that's a lot of weight to carry.

I may actually follow that link, just to chat to said EMT about utterly inappropriate, debauched stories.

https://www.deviantart.com/therealrng/art/Health-Issues-Drabbles-Trilogy-956211837

Not Future Shock tier, but these still go hard

dont let this thread dieeee

"The fat has infiltrated every inch of your body. Your cardiovascular system is all but destroyed. Your heart strains under the massive weight, barely able to pump blood to the far reaches of your limbs. Your lungs are compressed under the heavy load, making it nearly impossible to take a deep breath. Your blood vessels are constricted, barely able to push blood through the thick sludge that courses through your veins. Your organs are suffocated under the mass of fat that has accumulated around them. You are a heaving, wheezing heart attack waiting to happen."

https://www.deviantart.com/cirque-de-kink/art/USSBBW-Immobility-Wardrobe-Malfunct-Easy-Rider-935159842

In my latest story, the main character experiences all kinds of breathing problems and chest pains until an orgasm puts them over the edge and gives them a heart attack.

https://www.deviantart.com/springbokkx/art/Helpless-and-Hopeless-Health-Issues-Immobility-997585481

Let me know what you think if you read it!

>>8116
I mean there is dark, then there is pitch black. Sweet Jesus.

fatty-writes writes a lot of medical stuff: https://www.deviantart.com/fatty-writes

Bump

>>8126
Yeah, that one's not for the faint of heart. Honestly, I've read darker ones, though. Our main character actually survives that story!

>>8116
Hot as fuck anon.

>>8168
Thank you, thank you. If you're interested in some proper death feederism (and you're cool with M/M and furry shit lol), check out this story. It's even darker.

https://www.furaffinity.net/view/54638866/

https://www.deviantart.com/corngamer11/art/Priestess-of-Leviathan-BBW-STUFFING-MORBID-993663323

Priestess eats herself to death

Any really good stories about mobility struggles and movement-related unhealthiness?

I'm talking pain in the knees, pain in the back, gout, needing a bariatric cane, needing a wheelchair or a mobility scooter, being tired and exhausted waddling around, all of that. Anything where the fat girl is essentially crippled due to complications from her obesity.

>>8238
A little rare, but theres been some writers that have stuff for that. This series by RNG MIGHT have what you're looking for?
https://www.deviantart.com/reallynicegains/art/Lusamine-Loses-It-Dark-WG-840252788
https://www.deviantart.com/reallynicegains/art/Lillie-Loses-It-Too-Dark-WG-Health-Issues-627445692
https://www.deviantart.com/reallynicegains/art/Lillie-Lashes-Out-Health-Issues-Immobility-878228632
https://www.deviantart.com/reallynicegains/art/Gladion-Gives-In-XWG-Mutual-Health-Issues-929636509
4th part has male though.
A bunch of RNG's other stories deal with this kind stuff too like his prompt fics.

>>8238
I think anything by STC9892 is a fair bet. If you don't mind furry, this is a good story.

https://www.furaffinity.net/view/32044487/

Found this one on devientarrthat leans heavy into health issues and deathfeedist elements
https://www.deviantart.com/m-i-ki/art/Heavenly-Haunter-Deathfeedism-BBW-WG-1022761861

I think this is the right place for it. Just starting this series and hoping you will enjoy it.
https://www.deviantart.com/marker804/art/His-Dream-Chapter-1-Last-day-of-summer-1033091779

Does anyone have the fics and stories written by PudgyProse that are currently locked behind his Patreon?

Whether uploading it to kemono or putting them as files to download, man has quite a lot of health issue content locked behind a paywall.

>>8690
Look in kemono, under the name "James Duke"

>>8691
Yep. I randomly stumbled upon them while browsing Kemono and his paywalled stuff is a goldmine. Especially the health stuff

Just gonna add some that I enjoyed

https://www.deviantart.com/sir-wales/art/Highschool-of-the-Obese-BBW-Slob-Minor-Health-952292225

https://www.deviantart.com/springbokkx/art/Your-New-Roommate-Chapter-3-XWG-Health-Issues-973358674

https://www.deviantart.com/onion88/art/Fitting-Physical-Exam-624580935

https://www.deviantart.com/onion88/art/Obesity-School-720617987

https://www.deviantart.com/kaitome/art/Short-of-Breath-967814333

Not new by any means but considering it was deleted some of you may not have read this: https://aryion.com/g4/view/811303
Good stuff it is

Great new very dark trans SSBBW story by FC Punk https://www.deviantart.com/fc-punk/art/Bridal-Weight-Death-Feedism-Trap-Collected-1043475865

Furry (Pokémon), but still.

https://www.furaffinity.net/view/57551721/

https://www.deviantart.com/cirque-de-kink/art/WG-Immobility-Wetting-Office-Drama-1093311394

https://www.pixiv.net/novel/show.php?id=22900265

https://www.deviantart.com/garebear241/art/Bariatric-Love-SSBHM-M-M-881919197