𓂃۶ৎ

Just a few more mouthfuls piggy, you can do it 🐖

full clip on my curvage fatlilpig xx

35% off my OF for the next 10 days

"come on, you have to try this place."

"fine."

and they're hooked. like.. fast-food induced erotic hypnosis? compelling them to eat and gain? sounds pretty cool to me!

usually they'd never look twice at a burger but now they're reaching for it often. they've become a regular at the fast-food place they live close to. now they're patting their stuffed, bulging gut filled with greasy food and washing it down with soda.

The day started like any other.  You wake up on a beautiful morning to a blaring alarm  You get out of bed, get dressed, and begin to decide on what to eat.  While in your kitchen you hear a knock on your door.  You head to the door to see who it is.  When you open it, all you see is a box.  You didn't order anything recently, maybe wrong place?  You decide to take it in and try to find and label.  It was rather heavy but you manage to drag it into your kitchen.  You can't find any lable strangely, guess there's only one way to find out what it is.  You cut through the tape and see what inside.  You find a case of 12 shakes.  You haven't ordered anything recently and with no information on where it came from you decide to just hold onto them for now.  You put the case into your fridge for them to chill and will try one later.

After awhile of enjoying your day you go and check on the shakes to see how cold they are now.  You take one out of the fridge and it feels like its to your liking.  Only one way to see how they are.  You open the bottle and take a sip.  You are overwhelmed with the sweetest vanilla flavor you have ever tasted.  Never before has a drink satisfied you to this much.  Before you knew it you felt the last drop of the bottle, you drank it all without stopping.  That one wasn't enough, you grab a second bottle and begin chugging it.  This one you drank much faster than the other one.  After finishing it you let out a burp clearly showing your satisfaction.  Your stomach feels a bit bloated after the two shakes, but you still desire more.  You bring the rest of the case over to the middle of the room and sit down next to it.  You start chugging the bottles one after another.  Each one satisfying you more than the last.  As you consume them you don't notice what is happening to your body.  Your stomach is growing at a fast rate.  This isn't just a little bloated, the shirt and pants you're wearing are beginning to be strained with your growth.  Five shakes in, you easily have gained a few inches to your waist.  You feel full but something compels you to keep going through them.  Now on your last bottle, the buttons on your shirt are hanging on for dear life.  You open it up and down it as if it was your first, tilting your head back to get every last drop.  When you straighten out you hear the cracking of the treads holding your buttons together.  First your pants explode open, then your shirt. One at a time they fly off as your stomach demands to push out further.  You let out a huge belch before lying back and passing out on the floor.

The next morning you wake up wondering why your bed is so hard.  You quickly realize you fell asleep on the floor last night.  You start to get up and see how large you have become.  Your stomach now fat enough to grab two handfuls of flab.  As you look around you see all the empty bottles you consumed and can't believe you could hold all of that.  What could be in these to make you this fat this fast?  You roll over to your knees and get yourself up, struggling slightly getting used to your new weight.  You make your way to a chair in the kitchen and plop yourself down.  You hear a creak but you have bigger concerns, literally.  While thinking about how you got here you here a knock on your door.  You scramble to your room to get some new clothes to put on and hope you can find something that will fit.  You find some sweat pants and a t-shirt that barely covers your stomach.  You go and check your door and see another box, this time it is much bigger.  Not wanting to stand there too long you bring it in.  You open it up and see its three more cases of those shakes.  Just looking at them fills you with a desire to drink them.  Knowing what these shakes can now do you try to fight off the urge, but some thoughts run through your head.  While it was a shock at first, how long have you wanted to big like this?  Whenever a cartoon would have a character overeat and put on weight or see others online indulge themselves and the pleasure it would bring them, maybe this is something you always wanted and just never let yourself go. Until now.  You give your stomach a feel.  Its so round now, a big ball of fat that jiggles like waves and can squeeze like a stress ball.  You look at the box of shakes again, there's only one thing on your mind.  You will drink them all and get as fat as possible off them.

You grab a pitcher, pull out a chair, place the box next to it, and take off your clothes. You know exactly what can happen and don't need them getting in the way of your body's expanding domain.  You start pouring the shakes into it one at a time.  It looks like six will fit in at a time.  With two hands you grab the pitcher and begin to drink.  You get about halfway through before you need to stop quick and let out a burp before continuing the shake.  While doing so you can feel your body growing.  Your stomach is growing even further but now your whole body is expanding.  As you put the pitcher back you see your arms beginning to become larger, your thighs thickening up, and your butt widening in the chair.  You reach the end of the pitcher and slam in into the table and let out another belch.  Never before have you felt this good being an absolute pig before.  You take a second to rub your stomach to really get a sense of how large your getting.  So much squishy lard that is forming on your body only excites you for more.  You get the next six shakes and pour them into the pitcher.  You start drinking it just like the last.  Every ounce that goes in you adds more and more weight to your body.  For some reason though you never completely full, like you always can fit more into your gut.  Before you know it you drank it all.  You lay back in your chair to rest before taking on more.  Your stomach now begins to hang between your legs.  Your arm fat shakes when you go to wipe your mouth.  You feel around your neck and it's now thick enough to easily make a double chin.  Feeling ready to continue you sit up to a big burp that caught you by surprise.  You fill the pitcher back up and start to chug once again.  As your body is expanding, you hear the chair creaking.  You ignore it and keep going.  You get close to finishing of this pitcher when the chair finally gives out, unable to handle your massive weight gain anymore.  You slam into the ground.  Every inch of your body shook with the impact.  The last bit of your shake spills onto you getting all over your mouth and chest.  As upsetting as the wasted shake is the euphoria for destroying your chair makes up for it.  Its safe to say your officially a slob now.  Laying on your back you can't see over how large your gut has become.  As you try to sit up you struggle to get any momentum.  Finally you are able to get back up, now needing to spread your legs so your gut can rest in between them.  You try to find the pitcher but it has slid out of your reach.  With how much effort it took to simply sit up you don't feel like trying to get it.  With that, there's only one thing left to do.  One by one you plow through the last 18 shakes.  You are chugging faster than you ever have before.  Your body growing as fast as your drinking.  Finishing the last bottle you lean back to get every last drop you can.  After finishing it you let yourself lay back and hit the floor.  Finally you feel full.  One huge belch leaves your mouth.  Now a massive blob of a human all you can do is lay there and revel in what you have become, a big fat slob.  Never have you felt such bliss.  This is what you always wished for.  You stay there and go to sleep.

my first list of recipes did very well, and you pigs seemed to have liked them! here's a few more you hogs can try if you're feeling hungry. you should probably make more than one serving. maybe more than three.

let's get into it!!!

Almond Joy Shake

-Whole Milk (293 cal) or Heavy Cream (1645 cal), 16 ounces -Almond Butter (294 cal), 3 tablespoons -Coconut Oil (234 cal), 2 tablespoons -Condensed Milk (491 cal), 4 ounces -Chocolate Mass Gainer Powder (1280 cal), 2 scoops Stats: 2592 cal for whole milk / 3944 cal for heavy cream

PB&J Shake

-Vanilla Ice Cream (548 cal), 16 ounces -Heavy Cream (410 cal), 4 ounces -Peanut Butter (188 cal), 2 tablespoons -Grape Jelly (100 cal), 2 tablespoons -Peanut Butter Mass Gainer Powder (1280 cal), 2 scoops

Stats: 2526 cal

Peanut Butter Brownie Shake

-Chocolate Ice Cream (548 cal), 16 ounces -Heavy Cream (821 cal), 8 ounces -Peanut Butter (188 cal), 2 tablespoons -Brownie (224 cal), 2 count -Peanut Butter Mass Gainer Powder (1280 cal)

Stats: 3061 cal

Kit-Kat Shake

-Whole Milk (293 cal) or Heavy Cream (1645 cal), 16 ounces -Kit-Kats (436 cal), 2 bars -Condensed Milk (491 cal), 4 ounces -Chocolate Mass Gainer Powder (1280 cal), 2 scoops Stats: 2500 cal for whole milk / 3852 cal for heavy cream

Nutella Biscoff Shake

-Chocolate Ice Cream (548 cal), 16 ounces -Heavy Cream (821 cal), 8 ounces -Nutella (200 cal), 2 tablespoons -Biscoff Cookies (150 cal), 4 count -Chocolate Mass Gainer Powder (1280 cal)

There's something about the audible sounds related to feedism that I really like, so here's some of my favorites :o

𖹭 Chairs cracking and creaking underneath your heavy body, struggling desperately to contain your growing figure. Your thick thighs apply so much more pressure than before. Your widening hips hardly fit within the seat. You're constantly wondering if the chair will hold up your weight. Every crack, every squeal from the chair brings it closer to its impending collapse underneath your growing frame.

𖹭 Getting slower, getting so out of breath. You're a big, heavy, fatty now. All that weight requires so much more effort than before. You're winded, you're exhausted, but it all feels so good.

𖹭 You hear the floor creak underneath your weight. Every heavy footstep, each labored stride. The floor groans under your weight. Your thighs brush together with every step. That huge belly weighing you down as you waddle further and further. Each step requires so much effort now. It's no longer you in control... it's your weight. Your heavy, growing body is now in control of every slow, careful shuffle.

𖹭 Hearing the bed creak with every movement. Every crack from your bed frame brings it closer and closer to snapping (you know it's going to happen sooner than you think fatty) Every time you pleasure yourself, the bed groans and cracks underneath your heavy, fattened body.

𖹭 Every time you stuff that beautiful, fat gut of yours, it sends burps escaping through your lips. They're deep and heavy, relieving your belly from the pressure of every thick, heavy meal. You just love to eat. You love to indulge. Nothing turns you on more than being a huge, greedy fatty.

𖹭 The moaning, every time you feel that huge belly it sends you into a spiral of pleasure. Giving in to your desires has given you so much gratification, so much release. Every time you touch your thick thighs it sends a release of pleasure out of your mouth. Every time you feel your heavy, bloated, gut it gives you a sensation that you can't explain. You can only express it with your moaning, your unrestrained pleasure.

You can't even help it anymore.

You absolutely love the changes.

You love what you're doing to yourself.

It's so fulfilling, and it gives you so much pleasure.

At first, it was all just fun and games. A quick stop for a burger on the way home couldn’t have hurt anyone. But then the months treats became weekly and then became a necessity. The numbers are starting to add up, and so is the weight.

Watching your clothes get tight wasn't a big deal at first I always had a larger size waiting for you anyway. But now, your tummy is filling your lap, spilling over and hanging heavy between your thighs. It’s starting to feel like a permanent change, isn't it? A soft, heavy reality that you can't just unbutton and walk away from.

When you first laid in bed for a full day, it was fine. I loved bringing you everything you needed, catering to every craving. But now, it’s getting harder and harder for you to leave the mattress at all. Your body is becoming a beautiful anchor, tethering you to the sheets, making the world outside the bedroom feel smaller and smaller.

Your toes are freezing. You huff and scrunch them inside your wool slippers as you shiver in your bundle of blankets. The house is frigid around you, any residual heat draining quickly the longer your power stays dead. It's the middle of the night and the snow is still falling thickly outside; there's no chance of anyone who could fix it making it to you tonight. The tea kettle starts wailing; at least you have gas to the stove still. Into your favorite mug goes a bag of your favorite tea and a pile of sugar.

Freezing, you drink as soon as it cools enough to pass over your tongue. It splashes into your belly with a comforting warmth, you quickly drain the mug with large sips - enjoying the heat that falls through your throat and into your belly. The tea warms you, but you still shake in the cold. Your fingers start numbing again as the heat fades from the mug all too soon. You fill your mug again, refilling the kettle to its maximum and pulling out your largest mug while you wait for the teabag to steep. By the time the kettle boils, you're breathing out the faintest burp after finishing your second mug. The heat stays only momentairily longer, and only leaves you desperate for more relief.

Last night I gave in, I went to the store, bought a cake, put it on the flour, got down, and ate it with nothing but my face. Like a pig. And I loved it. I need more of it.

I was an athlete, a captain no less, and all I want to do now is get fat. Fucking huge. I want to have to go to the store and buy new pants because I out grew the old ones. I want people to see me and take a second look because that can’t be, he was 20 pounds lighter last I saw him.

Watch as I visibly inflate through one pint, then two, then three and finally four… plus maybe some extra food on top >~<

Just felt so so thirsty today~~

She entered the diner trying to act naturally, although she could already feel the tight fabric of her blouse clinging to her large belly with every step. The sweet smell of freshly baked donuts seemed to embrace her entirely, warm, sugary, irresistible. The place was full, tables occupied, voices low, glasses clinking. Still, she tried to ignore the quick glances that always came when she passed through tight spaces.

Clutching her purse tightly, she walked cautiously between the tables, already aware of her own clumsiness. But as she turned to reach the candy counter, her stomach first bumped against a poorly positioned chair. The impact sent the chair sliding high across the floor.

She froze.

Before she could correct herself, she tried to step to the side—and ended up pushing another chair with her hip. This time, she fell completely, hitting the floor with a dry thud that seemed to silence half the diner.

Her face burned instantly.

Some people stared openly. A boy lowered his eyes, trying to hide a smile. Two girls whispered something to each other. An older man pretended to continue fiddling with his cell phone, but she perfectly noticed the amused expression at the corner of his mouth.

Her heart raced.

She wanted to disappear.

But along with the shame came another sensation, warm and heavy, slowly sliding through her body. The brutal awareness of her own size. Of her large belly pressing against her shirt. Of how everyone had noticed how clumsy she was. How much space she took up. How incapable she seemed of going unnoticed.

She quickly bent down to lift the chair, awkwardly, feeling the fabric of her pants tighten even more against her legs and waist. The movement only intensified the feeling of being watched.

And they were watching.

She could feel it.

Her face burning, her breath short, her whole body consumed by that humiliating mixture of embarrassment and arousal. The more she tried to act normally, the more aware she became of her own heavy body moving between the narrow tables. Each step seemed to draw attention to her belly swaying slightly under her tight blouse.

When she finally reached the counter, she could barely look at the attendant.

"Eight donuts… please."

Her voice came out too low.

The attendant smiled politely, but she was already wondering if he had also seen everything. If he had also noticed her knocking over the chairs because of her size.

The shame tightened even more.

And, secretly and confusedly, it left her trembling inside.

The waiter's smile didn't seem mocking.

That was what confused her most.

She slowly raised her eyes, still feeling her face hot from the scene of the overturned chairs, and finally managed to observe him properly behind the counter. He must have been a few years older than her—maybe his early twenties—and he was absurdly handsome in a simple way. His strong arms were visible under the rolled-up sleeves of his black diner t-shirt, defined by the constant movement of preparing orders and lifting trays. His forearms had subtle veins marking the skin. His broad chest slightly tensed his uniform when he leaned over the register.

Everything about him seemed firm, controlled, proportional.

And that only made her more aware of her own body.

Of his large belly pressing against the counter as he tried to get closer. Of his heavy curves spreading the fabric of his clothes in all directions. Of his soft arms pressed against his body. She felt enormous next to him. Almost awkwardly enormous.

But his gaze didn't seem cruel.

He smiled again, this time more gently.

"Excuse me… could you repeat the order?"

His voice was calm. Low. Polite.

She swallowed hard.

"Eight donuts…"

She felt her throat tighten slightly.

"To go."

For a second, she was afraid she heard judgment in his voice. Some hidden irony. After all, after the spectacle she'd made in the middle of the diner, ordering eight donuts seemed only to make things worse.

But he just nodded.

"Okay."

She watched as he began to separate the sweets behind the illuminated glass. His movements were precise, calm. The muscles in his arms contracted gently each time he picked up a box or reached a higher shelf. She hated how much she noticed it.

And she hated even more how much she liked the contrast.

He seemed like someone who naturally belonged in that athletic, handsome, compact body. While she felt her own body occupying too much space even when standing still. Her stomach brushing against the counter. Her thighs pressing against each other. The heat trapped beneath her clothes.

Still…

He kept looking at her as if it wasn't a problem.

When he finished packing the order, she noticed something strange. He put two more donuts in the box. Big ones. Covered in chocolate.

Then he picked up a tall glass and started making a milkshake.

She blinked, confused.

She hadn't ordered that.

She watched the young man mix ice cream, syrup, and whipped cream with an almost hypnotic naturalness. His body moved lightly while hers always seemed too heavy, too slow, too excessive.

When he placed the milkshake next to the box, she finally mustered the courage to ask:

— I… didn't order this.

He rested his arms on the counter and smiled slightly.

Up close, she realized he was even more handsome. His jawline was defined. His dark hair was slightly messy. The faint scent of coffee and sugar emanated from his clothes.

"I know."

She felt a shiver run down her neck.

"So… why?"

His eyes quickly dropped to the box of donuts… then back to her.

"Because you seemed to need a better night than the one you were having."

That hit her in an unexpected way.

After all the stares, the hidden laughter, the shame burning inside her… that simple, kind gesture almost seemed dangerous.

She pressed her fingers against the warm box of donuts, feeling her heart beat faster.

And, for the first time since she'd stepped in there, she didn't want to disappear.She left the diner still dazed.

The warm box pressed against her arms, the cold milkshake in her other hand, and that phrase swirling endlessly in her head.

“You looked like you needed a better night.”

Outside, the cool night air helped to lessen the heat on her face, but not the confusion inside. She walked to the car, trying to ignore the persistent feeling of still being watched. And perhaps she was.

When she opened the car door and settled into the seat, she let out a heavy sigh. The seatbelt immediately tightened against her large belly, forcing her to adjust her body with that awkward effort she always hated making in front of others. This time, however, she was alone.

Or almost.

Because the feeling of his gaze was still there.

She placed the box on the passenger seat and finally opened it. The two extra donuts were on top, enormous, covered in a shiny layer of chocolate and cream.

Underneath them was a folded napkin.

Her heart raced.

She opened her eyes slowly.

“Next time, try not to knock half the diner over. Or you will. That’s how I noticed you.”

She stood still.

Then she let out a short, incredulous laugh, bringing her hand to her hot face. The shame returned immediately, but now mixed with something much lighter. Hotter. More dangerous.

No one had ever flirted with her like that.

Especially someone like him.

She could perfectly imagine his body behind the counter: broad shoulders, defined arms under the tight t-shirt, the relaxed and confident posture of someone used to effortlessly attracting attention.

While she…

She always felt the opposite.

Too big. Too loud. Too visible.

Yet he had looked at her as if none of that diminished her femininity. Maybe even the opposite.

The thought sent a slow shiver through her entire body.

Without thinking much, she grabbed her cell phone. The order receipt was stapled to the side of the box.

At the bottom, written in pen:

“Lucas :)”

Just that.

She involuntarily bit the corner of her lip.

Then she heard two soft knocks on the car window.

She almost startled.

It was him.

Lucas was outside, a little awkward now, unlike the provocative calm he had behind the counter. Without the diner's lighting, he seemed even more handsome. Tall. Athletic. The black uniform highlighting the shape of his chest and arms.

She slowly lowered the window.

—You forgot this.

He held up an extra straw for the milkshake.

She chuckled softly.

—I think I could survive without it.

—Maybe—he replied. —But I needed an excuse to talk to you again.

Her stomach churned completely.

She noticed his gaze quickly traveling down her body before returning to her eyes. Not quick out of discomfort. Nor out of mockery.

It was attention.

The real kind.

And it almost felt too intimate.

"So…" he said, resting an arm on the car window, "do you always come here to destroy furniture, or was today a special event?"

She covered her face immediately, laughing with embarrassment.

"Oh my God… don't talk about that."

"Hey, I thought it was cute."

Cute.

No one had ever used that word to describe her like that.

She felt her chest tighten as Lucas smiled at her with a naturalness that seemed to dismantle, piece by piece, all the insecurities she had carried for years. Lucas glanced over his shoulder when someone called his name from inside the diner.

"Damn... I have to go back."

She felt a strange pang in her chest at that. As if she'd been ripped from a dream too quickly.

He straightened up, still leaning against the car window, and smiled that calm smile that seemed to completely dismantle her defenses.

"Goodnight... chair-destroying lady."

She let out a muffled laugh, covering her face in embarrassment.

"You'll never let me forget that, will you?"

"I doubt it."

His eyes gleamed for a moment, amused. Then he simply stepped away from the window, took two steps back, and raised his hand in farewell.

And left.

Without asking for his number.

Without giving him his contact information.

Without promising anything.

She watched him cross the parking lot and go back inside the diner, completely lost.

For a few seconds, she remained still with her hands on the steering wheel, trying to understand exactly what had just happened.

Because it didn't make sense.

None of it did.

Not the overturned chairs—that made perfect sense within her life. Nor the embarrassment. Nor the awkward way her body always seemed to bump into things, take up too much space, draw attention even before she opened her mouth.

What didn't make sense… was Lucas.

A handsome young man like that, looking at her like that.

She drove home almost automatically, while jumbled thoughts filled her entire head. Every time she remembered his smile, she felt a warmth rise through her body. Every time she remembered his gaze discreetly descending over her curves, her heart raced again.

But then came the doubt.

Why?

When she entered her house, she dropped the box of donuts on the kitchen table and stood motionless for a few seconds in the silence of the apartment. The place seemed small around her. Familiar. Safe.

Still, she felt different.

She walked slowly to her room and stood before the long mirror attached to the wardrobe door.

Her breathing slowed.

Then she truly observed herself.

The blouse still accentuated every curve of her large, soft body. Her heavy belly hung over the waistband of her trousers in a soft, voluminous, round fold, occupying space with an undeniable presence. When she breathed deeply, she could see the fabric slowly rise and fall over the soft contours of her abdomen.

She ran her hands over her waist.

Her fingers sank lightly into the softness of her sides, feeling the smooth layers of fat beneath the warm skin. Small creases formed where the trousers tightened most. Her belly had a natural, rounded weight that slightly pulled her posture forward when she walked.

Her thick thighs pressed together even when standing still, strong and voluminous under the tight fabric of her trousers. Her wide hips gave her body a full, exaggeratedly feminine silhouette. And her heavy bottom rounded out her clothes in a way that was impossible to hide.

She turned slightly to the side in front of the mirror.

There was a soft flabbiness in her arms, a smoothness at her waist, folds scattered all over her body. Her skin felt cushioned, warm, alive. Nothing about her was rigid or defined.

And yet…

She wasn't ugly.

She never had been.

Her face remained beautiful in a delicate way that contrasted almost cruelly with her insecurities. Her wavy black hair fell over her shoulders in messy waves. Her light eyes seemed even larger when she was emotional. Her thin, slightly upturned nose gave a sweet air to her expression.

The soft fat on her face hid part of the contour of her jawline, but didn't erase the beauty there.

She stared at her own reflection in silence.

Trying to see what Lucas saw.

Trying to understand why his gaze carried no pity… no mockery… no embarrassment. Just desire.

Just interest.

As if her body weren't something to be tolerated.

But something to be noticed.

Letícia stood for a few minutes in front of the mirror before finally sighing and heading to the bathroom.

The cold floor beneath her feet made her shiver slightly. Still distracted by thoughts of Lucas, she began to slowly undress. First her blouse, pulling the fabric away from beneath her full, heavy breasts. Then her tight pants, unbuttoning and lowering the zipper at the same instant she felt the relief of finally being able to breathe freely without feeling the jeans constricting, even though she wore a triple extra-large size, and with some effort she removed the rest of the pants from her thick thighs.

When she stood naked before the bathroom mirror, the reality of her own body returned in full.

Her large belly hung firmly over her lower abdomen, soft and heavy, warm, swaying with each step, covering a part of her body that had been inaccessible to her for quite some time, forming soft waves of fat as she moved. There were faint marks on her skin where the waistband of her pants had pressed before. The sides of her waist, near her hips, were indeed so wide and exaggeratedly thicker than they should be, yet lacking in abundance compared to her disproportionate and epic "arrière." Her voluminous breasts rested heavily on her torso, following the slow movement of her breath.

She knew that body intimately.

She knew the way everything swayed when she walked. The heat trapped between the folds of her skin. The thickness of her thighs constantly rubbing together. The practical—but also humiliating—necessity of lifting her stomach with one hand to clean certain parts during a shower.

While doing this, she looked away from the mirror for a moment.

But then she remembered Lucas's gaze.

And that changed something.

Because for the first time in a long time, she wondered if anyone could look at that entire body without revulsion. Without judgment. Perhaps even with desire.

The hot water cascaded over her skin as confused thoughts swirled in her head. His smile. The note. The way he seemed genuinely happy talking to her.

When she got out of the shower, she wrapped the towel around her body and went back to the bedroom. She opened the closet drawer and took out her favorite blue pajamas—a loose t-shirt and short shorts made of soft fabric.

Or at least they used to be loose.

As she put them on, she immediately noticed how much tighter the fabric was than the last time. The t-shirt clung more to her stomach, outlining her rounded curve without hiding almost anything. The shorts were tight on her thighs and rode up a little when she walked, following the heavy sway of her hips.

She let out a low, humorless laugh.

—Great…

Still, it was comfortable.

And warm.

She sat on the bed with the box of donuts beside her and turned on the television just to fill the silence of the apartment. Then she opened the package.

She ate one.

Then another.

And another.

The sweetness seemed to fill something inside her that she couldn't name. Each bite brought back memories of the diner, Lucas's voice, his smile calling her cute after knocking over chairs like a walking disaster.

When she realized it, the box was empty.

And she still wanted more.

She grabbed her phone almost without thinking and ordered a large family-size pizza and a huge tub of ice cream.

Forty minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Letícia jumped out of bed with a speed she didn't usually possess, but for the food, the effort would be worth it. Her blue pajamas followed the movement of her body, stretching over her heavy belly as she almost ran to the door. Everything about her seemed to move along with it: the gentle sway of her wide hips, the rise and fall of her enormous buttocks, the softness of her arms, the movement of her thick thighs under her short shorts.

When she opened the door, the delivery man stood still for a second.

It was quick.

But she noticed.

His eyes involuntarily traveled down her body before returning to her face. An automatic look. Assessing. Not exactly cruel… but familiar.

She knew and understood that look.

The kind of look that made silent calculations.

Pizza + ice cream = Fat woman.

His mind had probably already constructed the whole story.

The delivery man simply cleared his throat and extended the card machine.

—Good evening.

—Good evening…

She felt the heat rise to her face again as she took the order and swiped her card. His gaze lingered a little longer on her stomach, outlined by her tight pajamas, before looking away.

There was no comment.

No unkind words.

But sometimes silence said it all.

When she closed the door, Letícia leaned back against it and let out a heavy sigh.

Then she looked at the boxes in her hands.

And, against all logic, the first person she thought of wasn't the delivery man.

It was in Lucas.

Letícia returned to the room carrying the pizza, the fries, the soda, and the enormous tub of ice cream; it was as if she were taking little treasures to bed.

The room was lit only by the television, which was on low volume, scattering lights of alternating colors across the walls. She settled onto the mattress, which sank under her weight, and with a heavy sigh leaned back against the headboard, leaning comfortably, already placing the pizza box on her voluminous belly.

Her blouse rode up, sliding across her soft skin as she moved briefly to pick up the slices, revealing the lower part of her body that hangs down when she's standing or sitting, while she breathed deeply, and as she chewed, savoring the pizza, she eagerly awaited sips of ice-cold soda.

She took bites that could easily have been the whole slice at once.

She immediately closed her eyes and relaxed carefree, simply eating, giving in to her gluttony naturally as usual.

The melted, warm cheese, the generously spread meat, the texture, the sauce, the salt… everything seemed to hit that part of her that was always hungry not just for food, but for the sensation of completely surrendering to the pleasure of eating without thinking about the consequences.

She let out a satisfied sigh.

Then another.

And another.

Between slices, she drank soda straight from the bottle, without any ceremony. At one point, a loud burp escaped her throat.

She brought her hand to her mouth, widening her eyes for a second… but then she started laughing to herself.

— My God…

Her laughter echoed through the empty room.

Despite her delicate manner, soft voice, and angelic face, there was also this careless side that emerged when she was alone. Her large body seemed full of small, difficult-to-control desires: sighs, low moans of satisfaction while eating, involuntary burps after the soda.

And strangely… she found it amusing.

Perhaps because she didn't need to feign elegance all the time when she was alone. Or perhaps because she hadn't yet explored the pleasure she derived from these natural bodily functions.

She continued devouring the pizza slowly, completely surrendered to the moment. The sauce discreetly stained her fingers. Crumbs fell onto her breasts and belly, outlined by the blue fabric. Her thick thighs spread across the bed as she settled in more and more lazily.

When she finished the last slice, she remained motionless for a few seconds.

Her belly seemed even bigger now.

Heavy.

Full.

Almost hard beneath the soft layer of fat that expanded under her tight pajamas. She placed one hand on her belly and felt the warm weight there, stretched by the amount of food.

A low moan escaped involuntarily.

The sensation was too intense.

The filling inside her seemed to provoke a strange, almost intimate numbness. A deep, bodily, almost sensual satisfaction. It was as if being so full awakened something difficult to explain—a slow warmth coursing through her body, an even greater awareness of her own flesh, its weight, its softness.

And then Lucas invaded her thoughts again.

His smile.

His gaze.

“That’s how I noticed you.”

She bit her lower lip without realizing it.

Her heart raced slightly as she imagined if he could see her now: sprawled on the bed, stuffed, her enormous belly under her pajamas after devouring an entire pizza by herself.

The idea should embarrass her.

But it didn’t completely embarrass her.

She let out another burp, this one wetter and even louder, and then her eyes widened as she remembered the one about the potatoes and the ice cream.

—Oh no… there’s also you two.

So Letícia didn't wait a second before grabbing the fries; some had darker tones at the ends, promising an extra crunch that would surely make her very happy. She wasted no time and grabbed a generous handful, enthusiastically bringing them to her mouth. The sound was the crackling of the fries breaking between her teeth, followed by the softness of their interior, still slightly warm and very tasty. Her eyes lit up for a moment, and an involuntary smile appeared at the corner of her mouth as she reached for another, even more generous portion. One fries after another disappeared quickly. Letícia's hands moved almost without pause, guided by the perfect combination of hunger, desire, and pleasure. Grains of salt remained on her fingers, mixing with the grease and sauce of the pizza, but that was irrelevant compared to the mission of enjoying every bite. Of course, she would lick her fingers when she finished, while also getting rid of the rest of her soda.

The time had come for the flavor she loved most: ice cream.

She grabbed the enormous jar with almost childlike excitement. She didn't even bother looking for a bowl. She ate straight from the container, plunging the spoon into the icy cream with carefree greed.

Chocolate.

Caramel.

Crunchy pieces.

The texture was incredibly creamy, yielding smoothly. Each time she brought the spoon to her mouth, she first felt the intense cold, followed by an explosion of flavors that spread across her palate. The dessert was balanced, rich, and enveloping, filling the experience with a feeling of comfort and satisfaction. Letícia focused entirely on that moment; the world around her fell silent, becoming secondary to the combination of creaminess, temperature, and flavor.

Each spoonful fed that gluttonous pleasure that grew within her without limits. Even completely full, she still wanted more. Always a little more.

When she realized it, the bottom of the jar appeared.

She blinked slowly, confused.

"I… ate it all?"

She laughed wearily, almost incredulous at herself.

Her whole body felt too heavy to lift. Her full belly pressed against her blue pajamas, protruding yet still soft, and fell shamelessly between her open legs. Sleep began to come quickly, irresistibly.

She simply dropped the empty container beside the bed, sank into the pillows, and drifted off almost immediately.

The next morning, she woke disoriented.

The television was still on.

The room was a mess.

Her fingers were slightly sticky with all the food residue.

☕💪🏽×🐽🍕

Lucas woke up at 6:00 a.m., just as he did almost every day.

He turned off his alarm before the second ring and lay there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling of the silent apartment. His routine was precise. Calculated. An early-morning workout, strong black coffee, a quick shower, and the day's outfit—ironed the night before. At noon, a hearty, nutritious, protein-rich lunch—portioned exactly to his needs—followed by a *paçoca* treat, though nothing excessive.

Everything in his life worked better when he was under control, including his desires. With a well-planned schedule, he fulfilled his commitments without fail, and had time left over to do what he enjoyed. Lucas knew exactly what he liked.

And he liked big women.

He always had.

It wasn't just a mere exploratory fetish or hidden curiosity. It was genuine attraction. He loved exaggerated curves, thick thighs, soft bellies, wide hips. He liked the physical presence of these women, the way they occupied space, the contrast between his firm body and their softness.

He had been involved with plus-size women before. Confident, provocative women, but also insecure and shy ones. Each in their own way.

But Letícia… Affected him immediately. From the moment he saw her enter the diner. Lucas still remembered the scene exactly.

Her walking between the tables with that large body trying to move with a noticeable care. Her heavy belly almost touching the chairs before she realized it. The way she tried to squeeze into a small space even though she clearly didn't fit there easily.

Then came the noise, the chair dragging, another one falling. And that beautiful face turning red with embarrassment.

Lucas almost smiled at that very moment.

Because she was exactly the type of woman who effortlessly held his attention.

Big.

Wide.

Squishy.

Clumsy.

And absurdly beautiful.

Another woman of Letícia's size would have avoided that path, and thus gone unnoticed. But fate willed it so, for Lucas would have gazed with desire at any voluptuous woman who passed through that door. However, he would have lost sight of her with the tasks of work, but Letícia fixed all her attention from the entrance to the counter where he was.

Her face had a delicacy that contrasted almost cruelly with the size of her body. Sky-blue eyes, wavy black hair, a delicate, slightly upturned nose. And below that… curves too generous to be ignored.

Her belly was noticeably large, wide, fat, and hanging down, but disguised by her tight blouse and high-waisted jeans.

Her wide hips, large ass subtly pushing against the fabric of her pants as she awkwardly bent down to pick up the fallen chair. Lucas noticed everything. And he liked it all.

While the other customers saw only a fat woman embarrassing herself, he saw femininity. The warmth of a body in motion. The appetite of a girl surrendering to the pleasures of a well-nourished life. Appetite above all.

That's exactly why he put the extra donuts in the box and the milkshake. It wasn't innocent kindness Lucas knew very well what he was doing.

He observed her order. The way she looked at the sweets through the glass. The slight hesitation before ordering eight donuts to go. The shame mixed with desire.

He knew that look knew she would probably get home and devour everything. And the idea deeply pleased him. Lucas liked women who ate without worry. He liked the satisfaction etched on their faces, the simple and intense pleasure of surrendering to food. He liked to imagine their full bellies resting in his lap, their heavy bodies relaxing after overeating.

Giving Letícia food had been, for him, a way to please her directly. To take care of her but also to provoke her. Everything there was thought out, the note, including the straw. When he left the diner to talk to her in the car, Lucas was in control of the situation. The forgotten straw was just an excuse. He wanted to see her one more time before she left. He wanted to observe closely how she reacted to his attention.

And her reaction was even better than he expected, the shyness the nervous laughter. The way she seemed unable to believe that a man like him was truly interested. That awakened something protective in him. But also something dangerously possessive. Because Lucas clearly perceived how Letícia saw herself. She thought she needed to apologize for her own body. And he wanted to dismantle that little by little.

That night, already lying in bed, he couldn't stop thinking about her, reading her name on the order.

"Letícia."

He smiled to himself.

But Lucas was patient, methodical, he knew exactly the effect the whole situation would have on her—especially him chasing after her in the car with the silly excuse of a straw. And while part of him wanted to go looking for Letícia, another part preferred something more interesting. He wanted Letícia to come back of her own accord. And she would, Lucas was absolutely certain of it, because he knew that kind of look.

The mixture of shame, curiosity, and desire she showed in the car wasn't something that would disappear in two days. Besides, the donuts were really good. And Letícia clearly enjoyed food in an intense, devoted, almost emotional way.

He liked that about her.

So he just waited.

×××××××××××××××××××🐽🐽××××××××××××××××××××

Meanwhile, Letícia's week seemed to drag on slowly. Work consumed her energy in a suffocating way. Spending hours sitting in the cramped office chair left her back aching and her legs heavy. At the end of the workday, she felt her whole body tired, swollen under the business clothes that seemed increasingly uncomfortable throughout the day.

Sometimes she arrived home so exhausted that the first thing she did was rip off her bra right there in the hallway. Relief came immediately.

Her belly finally free from the belt of her pants and those "shapewear" garments that hide the belly inside the fabric. Her waist relaxing.

The soft fat of her body spreading naturally as she threw herself onto the messy bed.

In those moments, lying on her back in just her pajamas, Letícia felt a kind of lazy pleasure wash over her. The fan blowing against her warm skin. Her thick legs relaxed against the mattress. Her large belly rising and falling slowly with her breathing after snacking while watching TV. It was in those moments that she felt most like herself, no clothes squeezing her rolls of fat, no worrying about posture, no need to feign daintiness all the time. Just softness, comfort, food, always plenty of food.

Throughout that week, she thought about Lucas more often than she cared to admit. Sometimes while having lunch. Sometimes in the shower. Sometimes late at night—feeling full after two or more dinners—recalling the way he had looked at her.

Not with judgment, but with appreciation; and that stirred something in her. Because Letícia was used to men looking at her body in two ways: with contempt... or with a fetishization too crude there is not to pass for affection.

Lucas seemed different. Which made her even more curious. Was there really a spark, a flirtatious vibe, something going on between them? Or had she misread the situation? Maybe he was simply friendly with everyone. Maybe that smile didn't mean a thing. But then she would remember the note.

“That’s how I noticed you.”

And her stomach would do a flip all over again.

On Friday night, already sprawled in bed after a heavy dinner, Letícia opened the snack bar's Instagram profile without even realizing it: @DivineSnack😋. She stared at photos of the shiny donuts, the enormous milkshakes, the hamburgers covered in sauce. Her mouth watered. Wishing she was savoring what she saw on the screen, even with a full stomach, SHE WANTED MORE and knew she could handle it. Quickly closed her phone, annoyed with herself. She eventually drifted off to sleep after distracting herself with a few episodes of her favorite series.

Letícia had spent the entire Saturday morning thinking about the flirtatious moment she’d shared with Lucas, which led her, that afternoon, to give in to the urge to see him again.

She spent nearly half an hour choosing an outfit. Wanted to look beautiful... but not like she was trying too hard. She chose a white blouse made of soft, lightweight fabric with a V-neck that flattered her ample bosom without looking vulgar, and elbow-length sleeves—her insecurity wouldn't let her show her arms. Although the blouse had a loose fit that didn't cling to her skin, it still accentuated her bust and torso. On the bottom, she wore high-waisted dark blue jeans—a cut that really highlighted her huge, wide, and fleshy fatass and hugged her thick thighs, while covering and compressing her hanging fatbelly just the way she wanted, without feeling constricting. Her wavy black hair fell loose down her back, and she wore more makeup than usual. She looked truly beautiful and genuinely attractive.

On the way to @DivineSnack😋, she tried to convince herself that she was going for the donuts.

And in part it was true butt not completely. When she parked the car and saw the warm lights of the place through the window, she felt a strange chill in her stomach because Lucas was there, already prepared to receive her because he knew she was coming, and Letícia couldn't imagine what he planned to do to her that night after she crossed that threshold.