tarquiniuss

What's in this: A woman has been made impossibly fat to represent the wealth of a powerful Sultan in an Arabic inspired Cyber Punk city, and is sent to a feast of the city's elite to represent him. What do the wealthy do for status? They show off just how wealthy they are. I am the means by which that wealth is shown. “Today is the day of the feast, Malika. Are you ready?” Ms. Vani asks me. I pull the nectar tube from my mouth, the sweet, dripping liquid trails down my expansive chest as I do so. I nod. I imagine the way I nod doesn’t look the way nodding should. I feel the tube of soft brown flesh around my neck bunch up and bulge when my chin presses into it. She returns the gesture. “The guards will be in shortly.” I place the nectar tube back in my mouth as my handmaid leaves. The nectar is thick, but so sickly sweet that it makes me ignore the painful fullness of my belly just to cram more in before my guards can arrive. Guards is a very funny word for what they are- no

Warning: This is a fetish story involving weight gain, feeding, fat characters and all things related. Future chapters also contain sexual content. If this isn't your cup of tea, please don't read it. Chapter 1 “Well done, babe, a new record!” Roxana exclaimed to the right of me, a white towel draped around her neck as she watched me descend from the treadmill with a look of approval. She had finished a few minutes ago – of course – and rather than leaving me behind, had chosen to stay and watch me finish. She was sweet like that, and it’s what made going to the gym so special for us – not only had we met there, but we both shared the same passion, we both motivated each other, and we both made the other feel so good about ourselves. Roxana had always been – and will likely always be – the fittest of us both, not that I minded. Her honey-toned slim body was perfect, with visible abs, sizeable C-cup boobs, and a tight ass. As I said, perfect. Honestly, I was quite fit