RoundaboutFan
Member
~BBW, ~XWG - After winning a lottery, Sylvia decides to take the easy road of life.
[Author's Note: I just recently dug this out of my old documents and sharpened up a few sections, so forgive a few inconsistencies if they're still there. There's more, but it's in no way presentable yet. Sylvia's a growing girl, and I love writing about her, but she's no role model so please don't take offense. I assure you her descent into decadence only gets worse from here, and I know there are plenty of you out there who won't mind. Please enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated!]
Part 1: A Growing Girl
Sylvia swallowed the last of her cupcake and gently leaned back into the comfortable sofa that stretched the length of her living room. There were dozens of the creamy treats left, all leftovers from her sisters engagement party, gently spirited away by Sylvia before anyone could tell what had happened. She had done it mostly on impulse, scooping them back into their pink box and stuffing them into the back of her car. Now, almost too full to reach out for another one, she forced herself to lean forward, coming away with one in each hand as she collapsed back into her cushions. She felt a slight twinge of guilt, although it wasnt a result of her pastry theft; Sylvia was growing, more and more lately, and she knew it.
The last six months had been a blur of donuts, pancakes, double and triple burgers, milkshakes, and pizza. The more fattening a food was, it seemed, the quicker it disappeared into her already vast stomach. She had not been tiny to begin with: in fact, she had spent the last several years trying desperately to stay under 250 pounds. The weight had been a long time coming. High school had seen her transform from a slightly chunky, but good natured, sweet, and immensely pretty social butterfly, into the butt of many of her classmates cruelest jokes.
The summer of her sophomore year, her family spent most of its time traveling across Europe, and as a result of the numerous confectionery delights the continent had to offer, she had packed on close to 25 pounds of cushy flab. Her waistline skyrocketed, and she made a habit of snapping out of bras as her breasts began developing into the pillow-sized mammoths they were today, at the tender age of 23.
It hadnt taken too much additional teasing for her butt to grow right on pace with her hefty bosom, either; she remembered a particular experience at age 18, the first day of her senior year in high school, after an entire summer spent lazing around devouring whatever food was available. She hurried to a class, slightly late, and stopped briefly to say hello to a teacher. Sylvia actually felt her ass continue to jiggle throughout the conversation with her favorite teacher, as if no one had let it be known that Sylvias legs (already thicker than the waists of many of her peers) had stopped churning long ago. The memory was still quite vivid to her; any attempt at running was usually subdued as she remembered the uncomfortable tittering of the other girls in the hallway that day, staring at Sylvias perpetually swaying booty.
Her recent six-month-long binge had started as a single, celebratory feast; Sylvia on a whim had picked up a lottery ticket on the way out of the supermarket and days later had found herself 46 million dollars richer. No one knew about it aside from her sister and mother. Her roommate Jan suspected nothing, although that was no excuse for her continuously derogatory treatment of Sylvia.
I seriously think you have spent the last week on the couch. Jan would have been in position to know; she was in and out of the apartment constantly. The two had once been good friends, but lately they simply had nothing in common. Jan went out to clubs, and worked out. Sylvia had found herself addicted to video games and had developed an impressive season pass list on the apartments Tivo.
So far, the money was mostly untouched; that is not to say Sylvia didnt think of it constantly. It had been a ticket to freedom, the enormous burdens of a life in the workforce lifted in an instant. It was now up to Sylvia to decide exactly what she wanted to do, at any time. And what she usually wanted to do was eat.
Lately, she thought, I have just been sitting here swelling. Squeezed into a dozen separate jelly rolls, her stomach had begun a slow horizontal march to the rest of the couch. Sarah made a mental note to not allow herself to slip any further. She must have passed 250 by now. It had been so long since shed stepped on a scale. And she always knew that 250 was just too close to being unhealthy. Sloppy. Lazy. Perilously in proximity to 300. It wasnt something she wanted. Sarah let out a long belch, a rough sound that contrasted sharply with her distinctly round, cherubic face and signaled the conversion of more cupcakes into soft, obstructive, perfect, fat. Perfect?
Where did THAT thought come from? she wondered aloud. But the Simpsons was on, and the thought quickly vanished back from wherever it had come from.
Sylvia
by Roundabout Fan
by Roundabout Fan
[Author's Note: I just recently dug this out of my old documents and sharpened up a few sections, so forgive a few inconsistencies if they're still there. There's more, but it's in no way presentable yet. Sylvia's a growing girl, and I love writing about her, but she's no role model so please don't take offense. I assure you her descent into decadence only gets worse from here, and I know there are plenty of you out there who won't mind. Please enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated!]
Part 1: A Growing Girl
Sylvia swallowed the last of her cupcake and gently leaned back into the comfortable sofa that stretched the length of her living room. There were dozens of the creamy treats left, all leftovers from her sisters engagement party, gently spirited away by Sylvia before anyone could tell what had happened. She had done it mostly on impulse, scooping them back into their pink box and stuffing them into the back of her car. Now, almost too full to reach out for another one, she forced herself to lean forward, coming away with one in each hand as she collapsed back into her cushions. She felt a slight twinge of guilt, although it wasnt a result of her pastry theft; Sylvia was growing, more and more lately, and she knew it.
The last six months had been a blur of donuts, pancakes, double and triple burgers, milkshakes, and pizza. The more fattening a food was, it seemed, the quicker it disappeared into her already vast stomach. She had not been tiny to begin with: in fact, she had spent the last several years trying desperately to stay under 250 pounds. The weight had been a long time coming. High school had seen her transform from a slightly chunky, but good natured, sweet, and immensely pretty social butterfly, into the butt of many of her classmates cruelest jokes.
The summer of her sophomore year, her family spent most of its time traveling across Europe, and as a result of the numerous confectionery delights the continent had to offer, she had packed on close to 25 pounds of cushy flab. Her waistline skyrocketed, and she made a habit of snapping out of bras as her breasts began developing into the pillow-sized mammoths they were today, at the tender age of 23.
It hadnt taken too much additional teasing for her butt to grow right on pace with her hefty bosom, either; she remembered a particular experience at age 18, the first day of her senior year in high school, after an entire summer spent lazing around devouring whatever food was available. She hurried to a class, slightly late, and stopped briefly to say hello to a teacher. Sylvia actually felt her ass continue to jiggle throughout the conversation with her favorite teacher, as if no one had let it be known that Sylvias legs (already thicker than the waists of many of her peers) had stopped churning long ago. The memory was still quite vivid to her; any attempt at running was usually subdued as she remembered the uncomfortable tittering of the other girls in the hallway that day, staring at Sylvias perpetually swaying booty.
Her recent six-month-long binge had started as a single, celebratory feast; Sylvia on a whim had picked up a lottery ticket on the way out of the supermarket and days later had found herself 46 million dollars richer. No one knew about it aside from her sister and mother. Her roommate Jan suspected nothing, although that was no excuse for her continuously derogatory treatment of Sylvia.
I seriously think you have spent the last week on the couch. Jan would have been in position to know; she was in and out of the apartment constantly. The two had once been good friends, but lately they simply had nothing in common. Jan went out to clubs, and worked out. Sylvia had found herself addicted to video games and had developed an impressive season pass list on the apartments Tivo.
So far, the money was mostly untouched; that is not to say Sylvia didnt think of it constantly. It had been a ticket to freedom, the enormous burdens of a life in the workforce lifted in an instant. It was now up to Sylvia to decide exactly what she wanted to do, at any time. And what she usually wanted to do was eat.
Lately, she thought, I have just been sitting here swelling. Squeezed into a dozen separate jelly rolls, her stomach had begun a slow horizontal march to the rest of the couch. Sarah made a mental note to not allow herself to slip any further. She must have passed 250 by now. It had been so long since shed stepped on a scale. And she always knew that 250 was just too close to being unhealthy. Sloppy. Lazy. Perilously in proximity to 300. It wasnt something she wanted. Sarah let out a long belch, a rough sound that contrasted sharply with her distinctly round, cherubic face and signaled the conversion of more cupcakes into soft, obstructive, perfect, fat. Perfect?
Where did THAT thought come from? she wondered aloud. But the Simpsons was on, and the thought quickly vanished back from wherever it had come from.
