# Spoiled Brat - Uncle Jack (~BBW, ~~WG, Eating)



## Uncle Jack (Oct 17, 2011)

_~BBW, ~~WG, Eating _- A spoiled brat

Authors Note: Here is a little nugget I've polished in lieu of continuing The Trainer. Now I have two stories to struggle with! At least this way, updates ought to be more common, as I can write for one or the other.

SPOILED BRAT​*By Uncle Jack​*
Gloria Reiner was playing peekaboo with Baby Lynette when the phone rang. It rang and rang, and Gloria didnt want to answer it, because that meant that her carefree playtime with Baby Lynette would come to an end. But the ringing didnt stop, and Gloria dragged herself away from her lovely six month old granddaughter to see what could be so important.

Yes, hello?

She listened to the words coming over the line. She grew increasingly slackjawed. She dropped the phone in surprise and started to weep. 

It was impossible. It was unthinkable. It had happened.

Gloria looked back at Baby Lynette, playing happily with oversized blocks. Gloria wiped the tears away from her eyes, and she vowed that this baby would grow up happy. Not lacking for love, not wanting anything in the world. No matter what.

TWENTY YEARS LATER

Nanny! Wheres my hangover cure?

Its coming right out!

How much longer?

Just a couple minutes!

A couple minutes was longer than anything. Lynette, sighing and channel surfing, resigned herself to temporary starvation.

An orphan by definition, Lynette had never felt the cold sting of missing parentage. She had no memories of her mother and father; they had died in a car crash when she was just a baby. She had been told, time and time again, that this was a tragedy of enormous proportions. But she had honestly never questioned why her parents should be taken from her. In fact, she had never missed having parents at all. Her Nanny proved to be the greatest guardian a child could ask for, in her humble opinion. She had given her shelter, clothing, affection, education, and food. Lots of food. The loss of her parents, as a proportionally enormous tragic symbol, could not compare to the girls girth, which was proportionally enormous in a very real, concrete, non-symbolic, jiggly and wiggly sense.

Lynette was a natural blonde blue-eyed Barbie doll. A Barbie doll that had been fattened up the point of obesity. Standing at six feet two inches, and weighing four hundred pounds, Lynette had massive T and A, as well as a giant B (belly) and 2TT (two thunder thighs). She towered over most people, her massive fat body making her appear even bigger than her height did. Most people found themselves immediately intimidated around her. It didnt help that she was entitled, after a lifetime of being treated (spoiled, really) by her grandmother. In particular, Lynette had always been a huge eater. She always demanded tons of food from her Nanny, who was only too happy to oblige, in order to see her sweet Linny was happy. Lynette had grown up in this small two-bedroom apartment with her grandmother, and now she filled up so much of it that Nanny often tried to stay out of her way, in fear that Lynette would get cross at her for getting in her personal space. Lynette needed a lot of personal space, because she was, to be blunt, a big booty bitch.

Here you are Linny, said Nanny, hustling in nervously, your hangover cure!

Finally. Jesus, Im starving here Nanny. 

Lynette grasped her belly. She was wearing a t-shirt that left two-thirds of her huge globular belly bare, and a pair of fire truck red shorts that fit like second skin. Lynette outgrew clothes at a rapid rate, especially since she had finished high school. The shorts, in particular, were an old outgrown item that she had gotten Nanny to tailor so that they would fit her again. Lynette was sprawled out the length of the couch, her left hip and side bulging off the edge, her feet dangling on the footrest. She looked impossibly huge, like a pampered Amazon queen. The hangover cure was laid before Lynette, on an oaken tray.

The large young girl loved to drink herself stupid. Sometimes she did it out at a night club, shimmying her elephantine body around to a disco beat while she pounded back coolers and groped sexy boys, while her girlfriends treated themselves to free drinks on the dime of their obese compatriots grandmother. Other times, such as the previous night, Lynette liked to drink at home, having a case of beer while stuffing herself silly with an alternation of salty and sweet junk food on the old brown couch, with its fatigued springs and sauce stains. Whenever she got drunk, she demanded that Nanny cook up her patented hangover cure, with plenty of love and care and grease.

The cure was a five egg omelet, with ham, bacon, peppers red and green, onions, and garlic. Alongside this was a short stack of pancakes drenched in sweet cream butter and pure maple syrup. To drink, a fruit smoothie made with banana, strawberries, blueberries and mango, as well as the perfect hangover medicine, a liter bottle of Pepsi.

With the tray balancing on her fat stomach, Lynette grabbed the utensils and began ploughing away. Nanny hustled her way to the door. She was a tenured professor at the local university, specializing in Victorian novels. Her expertise with bloated novels may have aided her rearing of a bloated girl. After she had her shoes and coat on, and her car keys in her elderly hand, she made sure to stock up the mini-fridge by the couch with assorted goodies, so Lynette would have easy access without having to exert herself. She also made sure to take some meat out of the freezer to defrost before supper. She tried to choose between the chicken thighs and the steaks, and then decided to go with both. Many times she had been left with very little to eat for herself, all because she hadnt made enough for supper to fully satisfy Lynette. A foolish mistake, but sometimes she forgot how much that sweet girl could eat. 

Linny dear, could you try and apply to some jobs while Im gone? asked Nanny from the doorway. Just one, even?

Yeah yeah, grunted Lynette with her mouth completely full.

Nanny left, shaking her head. She loved her granddaughter, but sometimes she could be a handful. It was a good thing that Nanny loved her work so; literature and academia were her twin callings. Otherwise, she would have regretted not being able to retire long ago.

Lynette hoggishly stuffed herself. She hadnt bothered working since graduating high school at eighteen. Why work? She had everything she could want right there. Although the apartment was starting to seem awfully tiny to her lately. She decided to get on Nannys ass about finding a new place, a bigger place, with more space to spread out. 

Lynette greedily shoved the omelet and pancakes in her greedy girl mouth. She grabbed the bottle of Pepsi and leaned her neck back, chugging like a champion. The bottle left her lips with a pop noise that sounded like a kiss. She let loose a monster belch and rubbed her chubby forearm across her face. She played with her massive belly while she sipped away leisurely at her smoothie. Her belly, which covered the open button of her strained shorts completely, was a great comfort to her. Often she found herself fondling it and lifting it up slightly, absentmindedly. She continued to grope herself as she texted her friend Hayley.

Lynette: Hai gurl. Waddup? Hows Marcus lol

Hayley: Hell be fine lol he just cant handle you 

Lynette: Some guys cant handle a real woman lol 

At a party a couple of nights ago, Lynette had let loose in her typical indolent manner. She got wasted and began dancing like a maniac, shaking the floor and the furniture, her belly wobbling in her skin tight green dress. A picture fell from the wall, cracking the frame. She had sat down too swiftly in a reading chair and completely destroyed it beneath her mass. After two basketball players and a wide receiver helped her up (the receiver getting his mitts under her fat ass, the b-ballers yanking on an arm each), she waddled off into the kitchen and ate the boxes of sugary kids cereal like bags of chips, in huge pudgy fistfuls. She then grinded her ass into the crotch of Marcus Woolworth. Actually, she grinded her ass into his chest, as she was much taller than him and she was wearing heels to boot. She had known Marcus since junior high, and she loved to tease him, because he was so intimidated by her. He never disobeyed her, because she was known to have a temper. So when she booty-bumped Marcus to the ground, causing him to sprain his ankle and bump his elbow on the hardwood floor, she just giggled, shaking her abundant cleavage from above him like some malevolent goddess. She didnt bother to help him up; she was the sort of person who was helped up, not the sort who extended that same assistance to others.

Lynette and Marcus went way back. She had actually been Marcuss first time, a week after her eighteenth birthday and a month after his. Upon finding out his cherry remained un-popped, she had commanded him to drive her out to his beach home. She changed into a string bikini and pranced about on the sand while eating a bag of marshmallows. She shook her jello ass and swung her hips into his body on the beach. When dusk crawled over the ocean, she had broken into his dads liquor supply and gotten wasted. Then she pushed him into the bedroom and onto the bed with the full force of her tall, threatening physique. 

He didnt really find her blubbery body attractive (though she was about ninety pounds lighter back then), but she pressured him into it, just like she pressured him into bringing her food, driving her places, and making out with her when no one else would. He just focused on her bloated beauty queen face and pretended that he was a on top of a svelte toned hottie, instead of beneath a 310 pound sexpot. Lynette insisted on being on top, riding him, crushing him beneath her weight, as she panted and grunted and sweated on him. But Marcus came anyway, regardless of this, because his virginity demanded to be done away with. Lynette did too, and collapsed on top of him, suffocating him until he pinched her love handle so hard she rolled off of him. They fell asleep, Marcus thinking of how this may have further bonded him to a woman who reduced him to a scared kitten, how this one act may have been a major mistake, Marcus thinking thoughts of bondage as he drifted off, Lynette thinking of pizza and bagels and hot wings. 

When the morning came, she called her Nanny to pick her up. She struggled into her string bikini, too lazy to put on her proper clothes, and walked out into the living room. Marcuss parents were in the living room, drinking coffee. They were aghast at the hippopotamus-sized woman jiggling out near nude from their sons mood. Lynette didnt care. She knew she looked good. She went out the door and down the driveway, to her Nannys waiting car. She got in, her side of the car buckling with her weight as she sat down. As the car drove away from the ocean, back toward town, Lynette didnt look back. 

Nanny, whats for breakfast?

Lynette thought of that past breakfast as she finished the smoothie from her most recent breakfast. She belched, three times, loudly and rudely. She thought about lunch, about supper, about drinking and eating and fucking. She thought about little else.


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## mr1311 (Oct 18, 2011)

This is awesome!


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## Propp Matt (Oct 18, 2011)

Hey! Another world-class story emerging from the magic keyboard of Uncle Jack!

Keep up the good work

//Matt


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## Uncle Jack (Oct 18, 2011)

Lynette spent the next couple hours munching away at the stocks of goodies her Nanny bought for her daily while watching illegally downloaded tv shows on her laptop. She had just finished eating a triple decker peanut butter-jam-and-honey sandwich, with a litre of chocolate milk to wash it down when there was a knock at the door. Lynette pressed her fleshy hands into the couch behind her and pushed her massive body off the couch. She lumbered over to the door, sighing at this distraction. Her footfalls shook the apartment.

She opened the door to see a handsome man with salt and pepper hair staring up at her.

“Hello, sorry to bother you.”

“BUUUUURRRRRP. Whaddya want?”

The man, diminutive at 5’7” stood up at this enormous girl like she was the Eighth Wonder of the World. 

“My name is Gerald Constabile,” he said, with a slightly affected intonation, “and I am the new owner of this apartment building. Am I speaking to Gloria Reiner?”

“No, that’s my (BURP) Nanny. She’s at (hic-burp) work. I’m Lynette Radcliffe.”

She stuck out her meaty paw for a handshake. As Gerald pumped her hand, her exposed upper arm wiggled and jiggled with the movement. 

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Radcliffe.”

Lynette scratched the exposed part of her belly.

“Pardon my intrusiveness, but you seem to have some stuff on your face. Right here.”

Gerald touched the tip of his chin. Lynette dragged her precious fingertip across her own chin and came away with a bit of ranch dressing from the turkey club that Nanny had made and left in the fridge for her. She sucked the glob of creamy white goo off the tip of her digit.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, “so good.”

“I came by to speak with your grandmother about the possibilities of the rent going up.”

“Oh yeah, whatever. Maybe she’ll move then. I’ve been really looking for a new place to live. Lately this dump has been feeling pretty small to me.”

“Hmm. Yes.”

“So I guess I’ll just pass her the message.”

“Here,” said Gerald, pulling something from his coat pocket, “give her my card. Tell her to give me a call.”

Lynette bent over to pick up the card and let loose a juicy belch in the short man’s face. She eyed the card while one hand idly squeezed her exposed gut.

“Kay, will do buddy.”

“Have a… wonderful day.”

“Yup.”

She shut the door in his face. He heard her booming progress recede into the hidden distance. As he paced down the hall toward the stairwell, Gerald mulled over what he had just seen.

Never in all of his forty-three years had he seen such an interesting specimen. She combined a classic Hitchcock face with Hindenberg sized breasts. Her ass brought to mind the exaggerated tookus of an R. Crumb muse. She combined incredible obesity, incredible stature, and incredible beauty in a way he had never imagined could be real. At last, he felt like his life was falling into place.

Gerald Costabile owned property. This was what he had done with his life. He had not travelled outside of the country, or even much within it. He had not spent his profits on expensive night clubs and wasteful vices. He had always been a quiet introverted man, who preferred to stay home and read, with one of his beloved classical or jazz records on the turntable. He knew he was a man out of time. He always had been. It had been part of why he had majored in the field of Classics, going so far as to receive his M.A. and an invitation to attend a fairly prestigious school to work on his Ph.D. 

But Gerald was also a practical man. After completing the course work his Master’s program required, but before he began work on his thesis, his uncle had died and left him two houses and a building containing a corner store, a tailor’s shop, and a small woman’s clothing boutique. He had kept the commercial building, not wanting to send the owners of these small businesses out into the cold, and sold the two houses. He used the profits to buy two more houses, which he then flipped for greater profits still. His parents strongly advised him to put the money toward his future, to save it, or even to spend it on some glorious once-in-a-lifetime extravagance, but Gerald continued his property dealings. Gerald’s uncle, an eccentric man himself, had been unloved by all of his relatives except for Gerald. As such, the nephew felt it was something of a duty to continue his uncle’s ventures, as an honour for the dead. Gerald was more successful at it than his uncle ever was. Whether it was some inate hidden skill, or plain dumb luck, Gerald amassed a small fortune for himself. He currently owned multiple buildings, had invested wisely his earnings, and lived in a beautiful three-story house. He had held onto the commercial building housing the three stores throughout the years, as something of a memento. 

He had never extended himself beyond this pragmatic buying and selling because he had never known what he really wanted. He had never married, hardly dated, because he had never seen a woman that made all of his hairs stand up on end. But now, now he had met Lynette. Now he could indulge in all of the secrets he had always dreamed of. He could give her anything and everything she wanted. He would fatten her up, even more than she already was, and he would have everything he had ever wanted.

Meanwhile, Lynette was heading back to her couch when she realized she wanted a giant bowl of spaghetti and some chips and dip. She stomped into the kitchen, threw a pot on the boil, and grabbed a bag of Ruffles. After a few handfuls, gluttony took hold and she needed both hands to cram her fat face with as many chips as she could. She tossed aside the card from whoever that guy was. It slid under the microwave, out of sight. Lynette opened the fridge and bent over to grab onion dip. The seat of her red shorts split wide open. Lynette had been going commando lately, since most of her panties were crazy tight, so her bare ass was hanging out. She didn’t mind. Nanny would fix them for her. Besides, the extra butt room felt pretty good. Lynette pigged out and pushed all thoughts of the mysterious Gerald Costabile from her pretty little head.


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## mr1311 (Oct 19, 2011)

Seems like things are starting to get even more interesting.

I didn't expect a character like this Gerald guy...


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## gotigersgo2000 (Oct 29, 2011)

Please post more of this and your other stories! They are awesome!


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## igorolman (Nov 6, 2011)

This is great so far! Please continue!


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## Propp Matt (Dec 14, 2011)

Love this story too. Any plans for more chapters?

//Matt


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