So earlier I was thinking about chubby!Lydia as one does, and like, what if Lydia regularly summers with relatives in the Hamptons or some shit, somewhere with Rich Ppl and Luxury, the kind of place thatâs like a mansion and comes with personal chefs that cook every meal for you.Â
And during the rest of the year maybe Lydia is very disciplined with food and exercise, content to maintain her tiny physique until summertime comes around. Lydia doesnât gain winter weight, she gains summer weight, because thatâs when she allows herself to really let go. Out of view of nearly everyone she knows, she can really indulge.Â
She usually spends the last few weeks of summer vacation cutting back and running off all the extra weight so that when she gets back to school sheâs back, more or less, to where she started.Â
The problem with this setup is that, every time she regains the weight, she manages to pile on a little more, and every time itâs harder to get back to her starting weight, to the point where she actually canât manage it anymore. It takes a good couple months extra, now, at least, and her base weight gets gets a bit curvier every season.Â
So one year, she takes Allison, and they spend months lounging around poolside and going out for expensive lobster dinners and hanging around country clubs with glasses of wine. And, of course, Lydiaâs lifestyle starts catching up with Allison, too.Â
Even though Allison keeps up with her exercise while Lydia lazes around, she still gets a little bit of pudge on her belly, and the gap between her thighs closes, and one day Lydia watches Allison poking and pinching her extra inches and flushes so much she can feel it burning her cheeks. She tells Allison itâs okay, she does this every year, and they can work it off later.Â
Inwardly, Allisonâs like, âHmm,â and when she can be more subtle about it, she eyes the way Lydiaâs bellyâs already rounded out a little, the way her hips and ass stretch at her sundress, easily a few pounds ahead of Allison.Â
She canât stop thinking about it.
In this lifestyle, Lydia is lazy and indulgent like a housecat, taking naps in the sun and grazing all day long, and itâs easy for Allison to push her a little bit, insist that they get specific treats and meals she knows are Lydiaâs favorites. Allison watches Lydia blow up with rapt attention.Â
She regains every pound sooner than ever, and before she knows it, sheâs starting to outgrow the âfat clothesâ she keeps at the house for exactly this reason. They have to go shopping when Lydia starts complaining about the waistband of her shorts digging into her hips, but privately, Allison thinks they look better like this. She has love handles, an ass that creeps out the bottom of her short shorts.Â
The date they were supposed to start getting back into shape comes and goes. Allison doesnât say anything, and neither does Lydia until a few days later. She sounds reluctant, whining about how much effort it's going to be to get back to her old size and how much she hates having to do this every year and why canât it just be like this all the time?
So Allison asks why it canât be. She doesnât have to lose the weight. Lydia has this half-formed idea that she should, that itâs what you do and sheâs got to maintain appearances, but it sounds hollow even to her.Â
The idea of having this all the time makes her shiver with excitement: no restraint, no calorie counting, no exhausting early morning runs, just the exhilarating freedom of being able to eat whatever she wants whenever she wants. It sounds intoxicating. She agrees to try it.Â
The following weeks pass by in a haze of gluttony, and Lydiaâs enthusiasm for food doubles when she makes up her mind to completely give into it. She gains more weight than she even though was possible, but the yo-yo dieting over the years made it incredibly easy for her to regain and then some.Â
Meanwhile Allison is constantly on edge looking at how plump Lydiaâs gotten, the bright pink stretch marks on her round potbelly, the way her boobs pouch out of her bras and bikini tops, the rolls on her back. Allisonâs own gain is much more modest, barely over a normal holiday gain, but Lydiaâs gain easily doubles hers, at least.Â
The transition to Allison feeding Lydia is easier than Allison would have thought it would be. Lydia opens her mouth for a bite of food Allison offers once and then it becomes a thing they do. Allisonâs not sure if sheâs the only one who feels like she could drown in the sexual tension, but if Lydia feels it she doesnât let on.Â
She eats whatever Allison gives her though, even when sheâs full, or maybe especially when sheâs full. Sheâs greedier then, Allisonâs noticed. Like she doesnât want to stop.Â
Late one night, theyâre eating leftovers sprawled on the couch, Allison tucked close next to Lydia, and Allisonâs feeding her bites of seafood pasta. She gets fed up with the angle, arm tired from twisting, so without thinking about it too much, he straddles Lydiaâs waist, sits in her lap, perched on those pudgy thighs, and holds a heaping, cheesy forkful to her lips.
Lydia gasps, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before she darts in eagerly for the bite. Allisonâs heart feels like itâs beating out of her chest, but itâs easy to feed her like this, easy to slide forward slowly so she has Lydiaâs belly between her legs, pressed against her. Easy to kiss the taste from her lips. Easy to feed her the whole bowl in between kisses, in between grinding against her belly with all the pent-up desperation sheâs felt all summer long.Â
When they head back home, Lydiaâs fatter than sheâs ever been in her life, but this time, she doesnât plan on doing anything about it, except maybe get a little fatter.Â
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Being in luck was, not really how he felt in the moment, but he was glad, at the very least he had apparently been at the right place. That much was obvious due to the fact of the skeleton who was drawing his attention. Sure it wasnât his Bo, that much was obvious, but it did mean he was in the right place, and that building was probably where she was staying. He could understand that he seemed rather, unsavory at a glance. Especially considering how he just seemed to be wandering around confused.He was going to retort, before he was interrupted by Skinny, mistaking him from the Sans she knew, Cobalt.
This second skeleton was a rather, odd one to say the least. She was rather..revealing to say the least and seemed to have no shame, in any capacity. Not that he minded, though he could safely say he wasnât exactly interesting in any advances she might throw his way. Romance wasnât exactly in the cards for him. He had trouble enough keeping friends, let alone some even closer than that. Once again, he was going to try to speak for himself, but he felt he couldnât really get a word in edgewise and felt rather jilted by that. Even worse was when Bonesy decided to summon a weapon. That instantly put him on edge, which wasnât great when dealing with a guy who could be as off kilter as Mort could be.
Admittedly his temper flared more than it should of, but when being threatened his mind tended to give away to anger and the next moment, his red eye flared bright. His hatchet in hand, but, only getting one step forward before the wall of jagged and crooked bones stopped the him from moving any closer to. This only continued to frustrate him until he heard the voice, of who he assumed, summoned them. That, was Bo. The one he came to see at least. This almost skyrocketed his mood, and the threat of violence towards her two alters only made him laugh. With a quick spin in his hand, his hatchet disappeared to places unknown and his red eye shine went down significantly.
He gives a small shrug at her apology. âcheeh heh heh...ainât a worry bo. i know the feeling. got my own alts ta contend with when they visit. real volatile bunch sometimes.âÂ
His near murderous rage at, Bonesy at least, seemingly entirely forgotten. As he seemed in a much cheerier mood now, that he had successfully found his friend. Mort himself looked better than the last time they had seen each other, an errant visit from two of his alts, giving food and an new set of cloths had him looking much fresher than normal. Something he admittedly was pretty pleased with. He probably should have brought something to snack on, now that he thought about it, but, this place seemed in order so he could probably find something soon.
At her beckoning he does follow, he doesnât give too much of a glance at the pair, or really any look, theyâre out of his head now. ânice ta see ya again, bo. been too long.â He says this putting a hand on her shoulder. A, hopeful, subtle gesture that he wouldnât mind the stray, grab or so every once in a while.
