“What Gives?” (Patreon)

Well?!

You heard me:

What gives?

I saw you check that scale without me.

Or at least try to. It’s probably gotten impossible for you to see.

But you know it sends the readings directly to my phone too, right? Did all that mindless stuffing lead you to forget? Did you think I somehow wouldn’t see?

And according to this last update, well-

It’s telling me that you’re actually down a few ounces from this time just last week.

Really?! Holding out on me?

Despite all the yummy treats I’ve brought home to you? Y’know, I paid good, hard-earned money for all of that, just to afford you the ability to sit back, indulge, & live like the royalty we both know you are.

In return, I had but one, fairly simple request. I want you bigger. And this is how you choose honor that?

I’m afraid this simply just won’t do.

So again, I ask, what gives?

You’re not suddenly having trepidations about our little endeavor here, are you? With just how big & round you’re getting? That’d be disappointing because I thought you were very much enjoying the new, softer, curvier you. I know I certainly do. And you know I do too.

What, did you catch yourself in the mirror a certain way you found might be a bit unflattering? Because I can assure you, I have more experience & I have yet to find a terrible angles. The way your ass has nearly tripled in width? The way that big, round belly of yours pokes out, & now hangs?! Even the way your puffy face has subsumed your once pointy chin. As maybe a somewhat biased second opinion, let me just tell you, your shape is divine, leaving you little need to worry.

Did I fail you? If it was me, I for one am truly sorry. I do my best, but were my offerings not up to your standards? Not suiting a particular craving you were experiencing? I heard no complaints that I can recall. In fact only greedy, happy, gluttonous groans of delight. Even a few happy snorts. Bite after greedy bite. That’s why I was so chagrined by this scale reading. After all, I thought I was doing everything right!

This is quite a serious issue though, & I’m afraid we have to get to the bottom of what exactly is going on here.

Are you working out a little harder when I’m not looking, getting in extra reps? I appreciate the commitment to staying healthy, but you should know not to over-exert yourself like that. You’ll burn too many extra, unintended calories. Or is it something you’re doing that’s a little more explicit? Like scraping some of your meals into the trash when I turn away, like a naughty child trying to avoid eating their veggies. Because that would make me a bit upset. Because I thought we had come to a pretty amiable arraignment, & unless I missed the signs, you seemed more than happy to fulfill your end of it. Until this utter betrayal.

Maybe you were just a bit freaked out with how fast it’s all happening? I wouldn’t entirely blame you on that front. And the way your body has blossomed in such a short time is nothing short of magnificent. The way your stretchmarks sometimes seem to scream it too? You’ve exceeded even my wildest expectations. But I mean you took to this all too swimmingly. And you talk such a big game. I thought you were just as excited about this rapid pace as I was, & wanted to see just where it would lead us.

Don’t get me wrong, if our little arraignment has truly run its course & you want to tap out, I’ll be a bit sad, but I understand. If going back is truly what you want.

You can always go back to your hectic 9-5. That ulcer-inducing commute. Those catty coworkers that always made you want to rip your hair out. I thought being my pet was sparing you from all that stuff. While I like having my way, I won’t stand in the way of you going back. I won’t stop you. You’d maybe just have to come up with your own creative explanation as to why you’re so much… fluffier now, only after a few months away. Do you have an excuse? Or do you think that cute embarrassed blush of red your round cheeks flash will be enough to keep folks from asking questions?

Besides, I’ll be quite frank with you on this. I have this sinking suspicion that you’re no longer as suited to being on your feet all that much any more. Not that that’s particularly a bad thing, mind you.

At least not in my book, anyway.

Of course, it doesn’t have to come to that either, obviously.

Perhaps I’m getting too far ahead of myself.

Maybe I’m just overthinking all this. Regrettably, I am prone to that sometimes, & this is just a few ounces after all.

Maybe you’ve just plateaued a little. That’s not unreasonable. Things like that sometimes happen. You’re only human. Or at least you were, before we both agreed that you’d make for a better pet piglet.

Piggy.

If that is in fact the case, I’m relieved your commitment to our deal remains unwavering, but I’m afraid that just means we’re going to have to push a little harder.

Make up for a bit of lost time.

We can get right to it this evening.

Yeah.

In fact, all I’ll need from you is you to get as comfortable as possible before I arrive, & bring that ravenous appetite of yours. Even if all you’ve done today was eat & eat without me already. All the better if that were the case, but we need you hungry, still.

Ooh, & since I’m thinking about it, maybe change into that cute little belly shirt. You know the one. That would be nice too. Provide easy access for all the prerequisite rubs & jiggles to help you through. Also, it just makes things just so much easier to gauge when it comes to how full you’re getting too. How much room we have to work with. Or not, as more often the case. You know just how much I enjoy watching it go from a soft coating of squishy flub to a nice taut, firm ‘food baby.’ And I can tell you right now, that’s how it’s going to end up. Looking expectant.

Because, you see, the one stipulation is that we’re not going to be done, until I say we’re done.

Feel me, chubs?

You know I can be fair.

Fair, but stern.

Sure, I’ll take your protesting whimpers of ‘oh I’m so full,’ or ‘I’m ready to burst’ under advisement, certainly. But ultimately? When it’s all said & done? I will have that final say. And I will warn you: it will be an awful lot to get through.

All your favorites, obviously. You know that I know just how to treat you. Just how you like it. But ready yourself, because there will be oh, so much of it all.

Preparing accordingly will be key. Regardless, I don’t see you falling asleep without a stuffed-to-capacity, aching tummy this evening. Because we have to make up for lost time here.

After all, this was a pace you set remember. And you’re the one that’s been slacking here, not me.

You do want to do good by me? Right? For all those other treats? All the delicious meals I’ve brought you previously? Don’t you want to be the fat, happy, satisfied pig we both know you can be? My pampered, overfed, belly rub-needing pet?

For a while, it seemed like that’s what you wanted too.

But I don’t know. These couple of ounces? They’ve made me a little unsure.

So until I hear from you otherwise, we are just going to have to keep you perpetually overfed, each chance we get. Fattening you up all the more. Continue as if these pesky few ounces you dropped were just some kind of unintended fluke. Learn our lesson from all this. How to avoid it in the future. Resolve that whatever size you are in that moment is the last time you’ll ever be that small again.

Besides, I saw that number. While faltering slightly, we’re not that far off from your gorgeous body reaching yet another milestone. Don’t you want to celebrate? I thought you liked celebrating those kinds of milestones, even if perhaps, yes, admittedly, I might get quite handsy. I just like the idea of these hands having more places to explore, the more you indulge. Is that really so wrong? That & so many other potential milestones ahead, the bigger you grow. Just think of all the possibilities.

These numbers were a bit disappointing. I thought we had a deal, & I need you to hold up your end of it.

It isn’t that hard. Or really even all that complicated.

I bring you every delectable morsel your heart could ever possibly desire & all you have to do in return is use it to get bigger.

And rounder.

And fatter.

For me. You know you love it.

Piggy.

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Just a warm up before other writing I’ve been focusing on this past few days. Inspired loosely by a blurb post I read on tumblr in the first person like this. I’d cite the original but I didn’t react to it & lost the link.

It’s obviously a little too verbose, but I started it with the idea of it being a series of texts, teasing, & foreshadowing an impromptu but wild, stuffing session. An over-the-top admonishment for simply hitting the wall. Once again lowkey tried to keep gender & pronouns out of the interaction, in a way that it can be applicable to any situation you’d like to imagine, just so long as it’s two consenting adults. In my head, while the ‘narrator’ is being quite pushy, the person its directed towards very much wants to keep going, & this is all just simply foreplay before the two can act on these feelings.

I love doing little short vignettes like this, I just don’t know how broadly everyone enjoys them. Art always steals the most attention obviously, but these shorter ones feel like less of a time investment & never hit quite like I hope they would. Still I might try to work a few more in as the inspiration strikes, & as warmups I do before working on bigger writing projects. Which I will have more of very soon.

Enjoy