perverted transsexual

“Can I open them yet?” The voice of his Mistress sent a shiver down his spine as he sat and tried to pull the shorts down just a bit further as they hugged his thighs. She was stood not too far in front of him, one hand covering her eyes, the other dug in the roll on her hip as she seemed to get impatient at having to wait so long for her puppy’s surprise. He loved having her tower over him like this. Admittedly, side by side there wasn’t much difference in their height - in fact, he had the upper hand on that front. But that did not matter when he was down on all fours for her.

Playing about with the positioning of the photo, he ultimately decided to hold the photo in his hands as he took a breath to try and settle his nerves. She made him so nervous - sometimes the sweet butterflies-in-your-stomach kinda nerves, other times the genuine fear-for-your-life kinda nerves you would most expect prey to feel in the presence of their predator, but that’s exactly what got him off the most.

“Okay, you can open them now.” He tried to not let it show that his hands were shaking as he pressed the photo into his lap as her hand dropped and her eyes zoned in on her puppy sat beneath her. Eyebrow raised, she snatched the photo from his hands which caused the puppy to bite his lip. Her eyes scanned the photo - undeniably the picture depicted a much younger version of her puppy, donned in a pair of yellow and white checkered shorts. She doesn’t seem to recognise the shorts from his usual wardrobe, so that definitely dates the photo. And in the photo, her puppy too is visually different. Not thin by any means, she can’t be blamed for everything! But definitely not packing the heat he’d piled on since their perverted partnership. Barely an inkling of a roll starting to form at the waist as his hand in the photo seemed to cautiously lay atop the fat laying there. Their tummy just lightly covering the waist band, and the softening of the jawline just about evident.

“So, what’s this photo about puppy? Feeling nostalg—“ She hadn’t managed to finish her sentence as she finally got a look at her puppy, and the pieces started to fall into place. There her puppy was sat, donned in the same yellow and white checkered shorts. Only now, the tie for the waist band was almost completely hidden by the overhang of his gut that had clear evidence of being rather well-fed between the time of the photo and now. The once much looser shorts now fitting much more comfortably as there was much less give in the fabric, most of it clinging to the tops of his fleshed out thighs. The puppy felt his cheeks start to burn red as he felt the eyes of his Mistress stare down at his soft gut, taking in the shape and size of his body, her eyes flicking back between the photo and himself.

Not only had the size of his tummy grown, but there were definitely extra inches on his arms and his thighs too. The once soft jawline carried a now clearly defined extra chin. Once visible collarbones now hidden by a soft layer of fat on the surface. Her eyes darted once again, comparing the once cute and small belly button which was now much deeper and squished by all the extra fat on his gut. It was her turn to bite down on her lip, fighting with herself to keep up her composure as she noticed the once smooth sides of his waist in the photo, compared to that of the puppy sat on her bed with a definite crease at each side of his enlarged stomach.

“I found them when I was back home this weekend. I vaguely remembered a picture I’d taken in them, and thought I could put on a nice before and after for you, Mistress,” he couldn’t quite meet her eye as he played with the ends of the shorts in his hands, “or maybe, I should say this is my during? I know your work isn’t finished with me yet.” He teased her at the end, hoping to rile a reaction out of her. Her eyes darted right back to him as she bit down on her lip harder now, fearing she’d draw blood if not for the fact all of it had rushed right down to the mess throbbing in her pants at that moment. “You’d be right with that assumption.” She managed to get out, in a voice so low that it was akin to a growl.

She placed the photo down next to him on the bed, in clear enough view that she could still continue to study and compare as she got a good view of her puppy sat before her.

“Grab your stomach. Play with it. Show me just how much you’ve put on in your desperate attempts to impress me.”

And so it began. He’d got the reaction he wanted. Trying to ignore the shakiness, he brushed it off by grabbing firmly at his stomach and kneading it in a way he knew she found the most gratifying. One hand played with the doughy fat at his sides as the other played around his lower stomach, occasionally digging a thumb into his belly button as he grabbed at his gut.

“You’ve definitely grown some, piggy. Definitely changed compared to that photo. You can feel it, can’t you? How much extra fat makes up your gorging gut now. How much your unadulterated gluttony combined with your pathetic desire to be a good pet for me has irrevocably wreaked havoc on that poor gut of yours.”

Her words sent shivers down his spine and he couldn’t help but let out a whimper as he looked down at his fat gut in his hands. The soft fat was intoxicating. The feel of it was so satisfying and incredibly erotic as he couldn’t help but think about her influence as he played with it. It was true that he not only wanted to get big, he so desperately wanted to get even bigger for her. It didn’t matter what he thought was right, when he thought it was best to stop. If she said carry on, it was bite after agonising bite. In spite of protest, whines, cries that he was beyond full - she got to decide when they were done.

“Your face, your arms, your thighs, but most of all that fat stomach of yours - all evidence of your perverted desire to become so unimaginably big for me, aren’t they, pig? You must’ve put on, what? 30, maybe 35 pounds since that photo?”

“About 40.” He whimpered in response, digging his thumb deep into the crevice of his belly button now as he squirmed on the bed. His Mistress fought hard to fight back a moan at the amount gained as she took a step closer to the bed now.

Hands gripping into his thighs, with minimal effort she shoved her puppy further down the bed so she could position one knee between his pillowy thighs. This caused a gasp out of her puppy, as his hands fell back behind him to keep himself steady.

“Did I say you could stop playing with your belly?” She questioned, ready to raise a hand to bring down harshly atop the exposed flesh. Those nerves rising in him once again, the puppy quickly put his hands on his gut and started to rub once again - making sure to shake and jiggle the fat to put on a good show for his Mistress.

“You were right about my plans for you, by the way. I don’t intend on stopping here. This comparison was incredibly gratifying and erotic for me, so I praise you for knowing me so well. But I don’t think you’re prepared for what I have planned for you, yet.”

She dug her knee in at the utterance of that nerve-wracking yet, and he let out another pathetic whimper, “So… What do you plan to do with me, Mistress?” He asked sheepishly. He believed too that he wasn’t prepared for what she had in store, didn’t mean he wasn’t curious or desperate to hear about it though.

“Well, for starters, you’re barely tipping close to the size I was at my prime, so that’s a good goal for us to begin with,” she said, an evil smirk spreading across her face as she grabbed the fat of her own stomach and squished it against his body, causing a whine to fall from her puppy’s lips, “besides, we both love a good contrast, so it is paramount we make you even *bigger*.” This caused a moan to fall from her puppy’s lips as he grabbed deep at his stomach now.

“I mean. It is pathetic how badly I can tell you want it. Every time I catch you staring at my body with not just lust, but a sense of longing. I can tell you want to be big like me. But not just as big as me, even wider. You want to be such a fat fucking pig for me, overstuffed gut constantly bloated and weighed down by your own layers of lard you’ve packed on. It feels shameful to desire such a level of hedonism and gluttony, but deep down - I know it’s what you crave, right piggy? To gain pounds upon pounds, feel yourself grow larger and wider, taking up so much space your fat and size is inescapable.”

Her knee was grinding in circles now, and her poor puppy was holding back tears from how turned on he felt. He knew he’d get a rise out of her, but never anticipated it’d flick this sort of switch off in her.

“Well, you wanna know what I want, pig?” Her knee dug in closer and started to grind deeper now, “First of all, these pretty shorts of yours?” She pushed him back onto the bed and he collapsed in a writhing and whimpering pile. With one hand, she dug for the waist band of the shorts under his stomach and pulled them back to get a good look at the red marks imposed on the skin from how tight they were, “I need these to barely get over the fat caking your thighs. I want to stuff you so huge, they start to tear at the seams the next time you attempt to put them on. I want the tie to become non existent, lost in the fabric as it has to expand that far to fit around your distended gut.”

The image she was forming was causing him to become light headed with how desperately he needed it. Admittedly, not only because of how much she wanted it - but because, truly, he craved it too. He wanted so badly to surpass her, to grow even bigger and fatter in a form of devotion to her. Every pound of fat and lard an offering of his adoration for her glory and power over him. Each roll, every stretch mark, the extra chins - all telling of how much he worshipped her every beck and call like the obedient pet he was for her.

“It’s honestly kind of disgusting the lengths you’d go just to satisfy me, piggy,” she smirked down at him, and finally he felt her hands on him and it felt like fireworks went off at her touch, “how much you’d debase yourself and lose yourself in fat and lard. How, deep down I know you crave nothing more than to become my obscenely obese plaything? You’d never actually admit to it, but I know it’s true. I can feel it deep in there. Secretly you want to gain so, so much more. So much more people can’t ignore it anymore. Can’t chalk it up to happy relationship weight, or maybe the normal weight you’d see start to creep up on you when your metabolism slows down. No. I know that deep, deep down that there’s that depraved part of you that wants to become unrecognisable in your devotion to me. Drowning in layers of extra fat, so fat all you can do is get your face stuffed and your fat fucked silly by your Mistress, day in, day out. Because that’s all you’re good for, isn’t it, pet? Being my prized fat hog, no longer just some silly piglet showing off how his shorts are a tad tighter. I want, no, I need you to outgrow not just these shorts, but all the clothes you own. Make you embarrassed by all the clothes you burst out of, and tease you for how fucking worked up it makes you each and every time.”

He was completely gone at this point. Any semblance of coherent thought had left as he delved deeper into the fantasy she was painting in his precious head. Whimpering and writhing beneath her touch, he didn’t even comprehend how badly he was grinding up against her knee at this point - lost so deep in a trance that he hadn’t even noticed she wasn’t moving anymore, all the motion was coming from his desperation. Pleas fell from his mouth as he begged with her to force him to come over this. He wanted nothing more than to succumb to the depravity of his desires.

“Tell me you’ll do it,” she grabbed his face and forced him to look up at her now, the grip rousing him just enough to pay attention to her words, “Tell me you’ll actually do it. Become as fat as I crave, break not just these shorts but also your mind as you become my own personal fat fuck toy. Say you’ll be mine.”

“I’m yours, Mistress! All yours, every bit. Please, you can do what you like to me, anything at all. Make me so fat, Mistress. So fucking fat.” He just about managed to get the words out as he continued to hump her knee, trying to press his stomach up against hers.