WG Story Drone
Well-Known Member
SSBBW, Dining, XWG: From the Weight Room mailbag, here’s the tale of a sweet young foodee . . .
She was wearing black jeans that dragged on the ground behind her and rode below her thick hips, her belly stuck out a bit from beneath her black sleeveless shirt, wife-beater style, with symbols across the front, which stretched over her 38C cup breasts. She was blond and beautiful, albeit quite fat. She had thick arms and wrists, and thicker legs, a bit of excess flesh on her hands that created shallow dimples when her hands were flat; she had a cute and small double chin, perfectly round cheeks. She had her ears pierced up and down on both ears, and wore a necklace that disappeared between the cleavage of her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra at this moment, and her nipples protruded a bit obviously through her shirt. The flesh around her waist that was visible stuck out over her slightly too tight jeans. She had some bracelets, which often ended up getting stuck towards her upper forearm. She had her hand on her soft stomach as she pushed through the doors of the bakery on the corner of her street in her small town.
Her ass shifted heavily as she stepped towards the counter. Her shirt had gotten tucked up under her breasts from walking down the street and her belly helped to keep it from falling down. She had her navel pierced, but only the tip was quite visible peeking out under the flesh. She wasn’t more than 250 pounds, and she wore all of it beautifully. She was very separated from others’ opinions of her; in fact, most boys in her school were secretly extremely attracted to her. She was quiet and had a bit of an unfriendly expression and she kept to herself. She did excellently in all her classes, and was friendly with a few of the teachers. She was up-to-date in current affairs and wise for her age.
The woman behind the counter gave her a warm smile and put her hands palm-down on the counter. She was quite heavy, but who wasn’t these days? Heather opened her dark eyelids and looked up at the woman. She was looking for a job.
She got the job and began working right then. The work was easy, she’d taste one sample from each batch, give the good ones to the other woman who put them on display, and she got to eat the bad ones, undercooked, overcooked, etc. Her philosophy was indulge in what makes you feel good. Sleeping made her feel good, sitting made her feel good, writing, reading, and listening to music made her feel good, and eating made her feel good. This was the perfect job for her, as she had the chance to sit and eat and rest all day. She couldn’t care less about the effects of all the food that she ate had on her. Her basic diet consisted of the most delicious and satisfying foods, everything she wanted she’d eat; she saw no reason to refrain. These foods were often very high caloried and a bit fattening in general, but her body also made her feel good. Her large, heavy breasts that jiggled severely when she walked. Her thick and soft appendages, her smooth soft hands. She often ate until she was full, then stuffed herself beyond that point, she loved foods with wonderful flavor and would indulge, even binge, in them.
After the store hours were over, the woman who hired her told her she could finish what was left if she wanted because they were only going to throw them out. So she stayed for another hour and ate happily until her pants became far too tight and the seams were ripping. She unbuttoned them and exposed the edge of her frilly black panties. Her fat belly curved outwards and felt much better and well relieved after she released the pressure from the button. She reached into her pants and rubbed the soft flesh. She got up and held her pants up, left, and locked the door.
The next morning she woke up in the black wife-beater and pajama bottoms she slept in. She crawled out of bed, removed the wife-beater with trouble from her large, soft breasts which were heavy and hard to get the wife beater to come over without using two hands. She pulled off the pajama pants and examined herself for a moment in the full-length in the bathroom while the shower was warming up. She was almost wider than the mirror, and her hips just touched the edge. The back of her arms bulged over her elbow a bit, and the rest of her arm was thick with fat and jiggled side to side when she moved it. She admired her, admittedly, humongous boobs, lifting one up then letting it plop back against the skin of her belly with a satisfying smack, and squeezed them. She climbed into the shower and washed herself, rubbing the soap in every fold she found.
She got out and did her hair, brushed her teeth, then put on black lingerie and a pushup bra that held her breasts out so far she wasn’t able to see what was under them, particularly the rest of her body. Her cleavage even made her a bit horny. She struggled a shirt on over her breasts and didn’t bother fixing it in any way. She sucked in her stomach and buttoned another pair of black jeans. The shirt she was wearing exposed all of her curious belly the plopped out after she exhaled. She squeezed the love handles around her hips and felt good.
Who knew the expressionless girl from school could have so much passion?
She went downstairs and prepared her daily buffet. She turned on the oven to prepare the eggs and sausages, the stove for the pancakes and Belgium waffles with cream and strawberries. She pulled a Nesquik from the fridge and swallowed it, then a second. A half hour later it was all ready and she indulged happily. When she was done her pants could not contain her belly, and when she tried she couldn’t pick herself up to stand, as usual. She didn’t know why she wore jeans anymore. She took them off and waddled upstairs clutching the flesh of her belly and pulled on some black elastic-waist Adidas pants, which were a bit tight as well.
She drove to school and got out of the car. She was on her third donut of a half a dozen she picked up on the way and it tasted marvelous. She shoved half of it into her mouth and then popped a munchkin in there with it. She felt bloated but happy. She liked to maintain that feeling. So she scarfed down everything else and felt very bloated. She removed a frap in a plastic bottle like the Nesquik from her bag and began drinking it. It was thick and tasted heavily of chocolate and cream.
Her now quite big belly wobbled a bit as she approached the school’s entrance, the bottom exposed, but she had no way of knowing. By first break she was less bloated, and so she ate one of the subs she had made. It was steak and extra cheese, her favorite, and she ate it quickly. Her elastic-waists were beginning to felt very tight and a little uncomfortable. She went to rub her leg and felt the thick mass of soft flesh between her legs. It had been about a month since she had started working at the bakery and she had not held back her desire she ever-felt to chew on something. She knew this large, soft, second belly didn’t exist on her body before she started working there. She could feel it jiggling as she walked, felt her backside, which seemed to have absorbed quite a bit fat content, now almost 3 times as wide as most girls, shifting, lifting, and dropping with each step of her now 4-foot circumference leg, thick with fat and covered in cellulite. She actually ripped holes in her pants where her thighs met. People treated her differently now, often gave her their food in a mockingly sacrificial manner, as she leaned back, legs spread, and belly between them with her hands resting on her large, gigantic, body. She liked massaging all her fat; it felt so good, and she gladly accepted what food was offered to her.
Her backside waddled side to side as she opened the glass double doors of the bakery without the use of her hands, simply pushing forward with her legendary stomach. She usually had to squeeze her body into any place she wanted to go. She had put on over a hundred pounds between her job and her lifestyle, her metabolism overwhelmed and decelerated. She moved past the counter and into the cook’s quarters where she did her job. She was wearing a shirt that doubled as a bra, as it only covered her breasts in these hot summer months, tucked under them. It would have fit another girl, but her breasts had become so large the shirt had been reduced to its present state of attire. It was black with Atticus on the front, and exposed a great deal of an even greater deal of cleavage.
She moved her entwined locks of black hair back behind her ears and ran a hand over her stomach, below her breasts, ready to be filled. Her belly was one fluid mass of flesh, it had no separation between stomach and fat. She went the whole day testing, on this particular Saturday. She was excellent at her job, a strict critique of the cook’s work, often eating entire “bad” plates.
She went home that day and decided she would go on vacation. It was true she was in high school, senior year, but she lived with her grandmother, which meant that Heather herself was able to take the home and her life for herself. She did her research, and decided to visit Australia. She took leave from her work and left on a vacation week at school.
Modern Hedonism
By MEL
Part I
By MEL
Part I
She was wearing black jeans that dragged on the ground behind her and rode below her thick hips, her belly stuck out a bit from beneath her black sleeveless shirt, wife-beater style, with symbols across the front, which stretched over her 38C cup breasts. She was blond and beautiful, albeit quite fat. She had thick arms and wrists, and thicker legs, a bit of excess flesh on her hands that created shallow dimples when her hands were flat; she had a cute and small double chin, perfectly round cheeks. She had her ears pierced up and down on both ears, and wore a necklace that disappeared between the cleavage of her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra at this moment, and her nipples protruded a bit obviously through her shirt. The flesh around her waist that was visible stuck out over her slightly too tight jeans. She had some bracelets, which often ended up getting stuck towards her upper forearm. She had her hand on her soft stomach as she pushed through the doors of the bakery on the corner of her street in her small town.
Her ass shifted heavily as she stepped towards the counter. Her shirt had gotten tucked up under her breasts from walking down the street and her belly helped to keep it from falling down. She had her navel pierced, but only the tip was quite visible peeking out under the flesh. She wasn’t more than 250 pounds, and she wore all of it beautifully. She was very separated from others’ opinions of her; in fact, most boys in her school were secretly extremely attracted to her. She was quiet and had a bit of an unfriendly expression and she kept to herself. She did excellently in all her classes, and was friendly with a few of the teachers. She was up-to-date in current affairs and wise for her age.
The woman behind the counter gave her a warm smile and put her hands palm-down on the counter. She was quite heavy, but who wasn’t these days? Heather opened her dark eyelids and looked up at the woman. She was looking for a job.
She got the job and began working right then. The work was easy, she’d taste one sample from each batch, give the good ones to the other woman who put them on display, and she got to eat the bad ones, undercooked, overcooked, etc. Her philosophy was indulge in what makes you feel good. Sleeping made her feel good, sitting made her feel good, writing, reading, and listening to music made her feel good, and eating made her feel good. This was the perfect job for her, as she had the chance to sit and eat and rest all day. She couldn’t care less about the effects of all the food that she ate had on her. Her basic diet consisted of the most delicious and satisfying foods, everything she wanted she’d eat; she saw no reason to refrain. These foods were often very high caloried and a bit fattening in general, but her body also made her feel good. Her large, heavy breasts that jiggled severely when she walked. Her thick and soft appendages, her smooth soft hands. She often ate until she was full, then stuffed herself beyond that point, she loved foods with wonderful flavor and would indulge, even binge, in them.
After the store hours were over, the woman who hired her told her she could finish what was left if she wanted because they were only going to throw them out. So she stayed for another hour and ate happily until her pants became far too tight and the seams were ripping. She unbuttoned them and exposed the edge of her frilly black panties. Her fat belly curved outwards and felt much better and well relieved after she released the pressure from the button. She reached into her pants and rubbed the soft flesh. She got up and held her pants up, left, and locked the door.
The next morning she woke up in the black wife-beater and pajama bottoms she slept in. She crawled out of bed, removed the wife-beater with trouble from her large, soft breasts which were heavy and hard to get the wife beater to come over without using two hands. She pulled off the pajama pants and examined herself for a moment in the full-length in the bathroom while the shower was warming up. She was almost wider than the mirror, and her hips just touched the edge. The back of her arms bulged over her elbow a bit, and the rest of her arm was thick with fat and jiggled side to side when she moved it. She admired her, admittedly, humongous boobs, lifting one up then letting it plop back against the skin of her belly with a satisfying smack, and squeezed them. She climbed into the shower and washed herself, rubbing the soap in every fold she found.
She got out and did her hair, brushed her teeth, then put on black lingerie and a pushup bra that held her breasts out so far she wasn’t able to see what was under them, particularly the rest of her body. Her cleavage even made her a bit horny. She struggled a shirt on over her breasts and didn’t bother fixing it in any way. She sucked in her stomach and buttoned another pair of black jeans. The shirt she was wearing exposed all of her curious belly the plopped out after she exhaled. She squeezed the love handles around her hips and felt good.
Who knew the expressionless girl from school could have so much passion?
She went downstairs and prepared her daily buffet. She turned on the oven to prepare the eggs and sausages, the stove for the pancakes and Belgium waffles with cream and strawberries. She pulled a Nesquik from the fridge and swallowed it, then a second. A half hour later it was all ready and she indulged happily. When she was done her pants could not contain her belly, and when she tried she couldn’t pick herself up to stand, as usual. She didn’t know why she wore jeans anymore. She took them off and waddled upstairs clutching the flesh of her belly and pulled on some black elastic-waist Adidas pants, which were a bit tight as well.
She drove to school and got out of the car. She was on her third donut of a half a dozen she picked up on the way and it tasted marvelous. She shoved half of it into her mouth and then popped a munchkin in there with it. She felt bloated but happy. She liked to maintain that feeling. So she scarfed down everything else and felt very bloated. She removed a frap in a plastic bottle like the Nesquik from her bag and began drinking it. It was thick and tasted heavily of chocolate and cream.
Her now quite big belly wobbled a bit as she approached the school’s entrance, the bottom exposed, but she had no way of knowing. By first break she was less bloated, and so she ate one of the subs she had made. It was steak and extra cheese, her favorite, and she ate it quickly. Her elastic-waists were beginning to felt very tight and a little uncomfortable. She went to rub her leg and felt the thick mass of soft flesh between her legs. It had been about a month since she had started working at the bakery and she had not held back her desire she ever-felt to chew on something. She knew this large, soft, second belly didn’t exist on her body before she started working there. She could feel it jiggling as she walked, felt her backside, which seemed to have absorbed quite a bit fat content, now almost 3 times as wide as most girls, shifting, lifting, and dropping with each step of her now 4-foot circumference leg, thick with fat and covered in cellulite. She actually ripped holes in her pants where her thighs met. People treated her differently now, often gave her their food in a mockingly sacrificial manner, as she leaned back, legs spread, and belly between them with her hands resting on her large, gigantic, body. She liked massaging all her fat; it felt so good, and she gladly accepted what food was offered to her.
Her backside waddled side to side as she opened the glass double doors of the bakery without the use of her hands, simply pushing forward with her legendary stomach. She usually had to squeeze her body into any place she wanted to go. She had put on over a hundred pounds between her job and her lifestyle, her metabolism overwhelmed and decelerated. She moved past the counter and into the cook’s quarters where she did her job. She was wearing a shirt that doubled as a bra, as it only covered her breasts in these hot summer months, tucked under them. It would have fit another girl, but her breasts had become so large the shirt had been reduced to its present state of attire. It was black with Atticus on the front, and exposed a great deal of an even greater deal of cleavage.
She moved her entwined locks of black hair back behind her ears and ran a hand over her stomach, below her breasts, ready to be filled. Her belly was one fluid mass of flesh, it had no separation between stomach and fat. She went the whole day testing, on this particular Saturday. She was excellent at her job, a strict critique of the cook’s work, often eating entire “bad” plates.
She went home that day and decided she would go on vacation. It was true she was in high school, senior year, but she lived with her grandmother, which meant that Heather herself was able to take the home and her life for herself. She did her research, and decided to visit Australia. She took leave from her work and left on a vacation week at school.
