BBWChan

The man dies in a car-crash a few months after the marriage, and the gold-digger starts enforcing certain rules upon the daughters after the will's hearing.

One stipend of her getting all of the man's money and property was that she'd always look after his daughters, and to give them most of it when they move out on their own.

Seeing the amount of money she'd lose when they would move out, she hatches a scheme to fatten the girls up till they could never leave their rooms, let alone the mansion.

The oldest tries to rebel against it, as their type in this story tends to, but the younger one takes to the copious amounts of greasy, fattening junk food and the secretly enforced sedentary life-style with glee.

It's been a little less than a month since Katie and I started going out, and David is just now starting to get used to that. He's eased up and is about as comfortable as he's always been with us.

He definitely is not as comfortable with my weight gain, though. I see him sneaking curious peeks at my larger form from time to time. Just like everyone else in this school. I can understand, it's pretty interesting. Stuff like this doesn't usually happen.

Maybe they're admiring my new wardrobe instead.

Hah.

Last weekend was when I went out alone to get some new clothes for myself. I hadn't checked my weight since Thanksgiving, but I had been eating even more during the night than I had before Thanksgiving and things were not going well in the clothing department.

You know you need new clothes when your underwear doesn't even over your ass anymore.

My favorite fat fetish pictures were always the ones where a girl was wearing underwear she had grown too fat for, and they were riding up their ass-crack like a thong and causing some obvious overhang.

It's not all it's cracked up to be.

If you're a dude whose ass just won't stop growing and your underwear-of-choice is the boxer brief, the wake-up call comes when there's a good half-inch of your ass crack showing on top of the waistband, with fat bulging out, and another half inch underneath also bulging, forming the crease onto your definitely thicker thighs.

Katie looks great today. Happier than I've seen her in a while. I'm grateful for the half of her lunch that she's letting me eat. What I'm used to packing for myself hasn't been enough lately. I mean, it's been enough, but it doesn't get me full. Even after I added more items to my lunch.

So on days when Katie gives me a little extra, I'm always grateful. She's given me a lot today, a whole serving of beef stew. It's not hot, so I down it pretty quickly- and that sends me over the edge.

My stomach is pushing out, testing my button.

Dammit, I just bought these.

With the full stomach comes the erection. Luckily I am tucked under a table and we still have ten more minutes of lunch. Enough to calm down.

Am I going to need to go up another pair?

I bought a set of mediums for myself last weekend when I went out. Those changing rooms forced me to examine myself. I try not to as much because it ruins the fun for me when things catch me unawares.

I wore my track pants to a nearby clothing strip mall and a large church-volunteer work shirt I had been wearing too often during the break. My track pants are stretchy and I felt like a god damn college girl squeezed into yoga pants. They were tight everywhere from the thigh up.

They pinched in around my crotch, framing my penis easily if I wasn't careful. It made my belly overhang slightly- just to the drawstring. It doesn't do that unless I'm wearing something tight.

I'm not THAT fat.

But mostly, it rode the hell out of my ass. I'm glad I wore that large shirt, because I'm sure at least part of my ass-crack would be visible if it wasn't covered.

It was the changing room that made me confront my body.

I had grabbed a bunch of mediums to try on, the next step up from my usual small.

After peeling off my track pants in the changing room, the first thing I noticed was my ass.

Jesus Christ, it's getting big.

Sure it poked out a little more, but just slightly,

ever so slightly,

it was wider, spreading out

No longer large and round, but just large.

In each check, in asymmetric spots, there is a tiny dimple (it looks like a pockmark) that rests in the bottom outside corner.

The rest of my body would not be ignored- I can't just focus on my ass. My ignorance is not strong enough in a well-let mirrored habitat.

Everything is softer. heavier.

My arms are ever so slightly softer. It just feels like more skin, but I know it's fat. My chest, same story.

My stomach has grown, mostly in the lower part of my gut, where I let my bloated distended stomach hang when I stuff myself like the pig I am nearly every night.

It has spread up my torso slightly, too.

So now there's a little soft something under my little soft chest.

Mediums fit snug, but not tight.

Today, Mediums fit tight.

I realize that going back over how my body looks to everyone in this cafeteria and how fucking fat I've become has not helped it suppressing my erection.

Oh well.

I scratch under my chin and find that my skin has more leeway there.

No way am I fat enough for it to show in my face.

Show, not feel. Show, not feel.

Hah, that does it. I've made up my mind. It's what occupies my mind all day anyway.

One day he decided to ask his mother. “Mom, would you still love me if I was bigger than an elephant?” His mother smiled, “Of course.” “What about if I was heavier than a truck?” His mother giggled, “Well of course I would.” “What about if I was greedier than a pig?” His mother laughed, “Oh honey! I will always love you. Even if you were the size of a house!” And with that, Adam knew that he should follow his dreams.

I sit down within plain view of them, just beside the tale on a couch, a small table set with a delightful spread for my gorging feast. KFC, as it's the messiest, greasiest and the most hands on of the takeaways. I get stuck in, making a huge show of how much I love it, moaning and squirming with delight, taking joy in how they have to look away least they retch. Their throbbing erection lie. It's a mess, chicken skins and coleslaw everywhere, gravy stuck to my chin and breasts.

once I'm finished I stand and walk to them, the lack of pleasurable feasting moans gaining their attention as they think their nightmare might be over.

“You like what you see, don’t you?” she said, panting slightly.

“Well, erm, yes, I do.” I said meekly, I didn’t even think about denying it.

“Thought so.” she smiled, “I could practically smell you drooling from the other side of the room, not that I blame you.”

“I’m sorry.” I apologized reflexively.

“Nothing to be sorry about, I wouldn’t be showing off if I didn’t want to be noticed. So why’re you still standing over here? Got a broken leg or something?”

“No, it’s just that I need to catch a bus soon and-”