The greediest of them all? - Entrant 1: Amelia Atwood (Patreon)

Happy autumn, everyone! 🍂🌰 Season of breezes blowing skirts up to the chest, bosom-hugging jumpers that don't quite cover the tum. 

All right, that might need a little work…

Now, it goes without saying that the leading ladies in my stories are a very greedy bunch indeed. Often for money. Sometimes for glory, fame, status or love. Always for food. But when a couple of patrons recently asked who was the greediest, I found myself a bit stumped!

It’s a great question, but a tough one to answer, not least because many characters are likely to become greedier as their stories (and figures) expand. Still, I had a lot of fun musing over it, considering and comparing the different nuances in gluttonous habits of our leading ladies. What emerged was a set of mini character profiles, with cross comparisons, which I'll post as a series, along with pictures. 

Please feel free to add to, disagree with or embellish my thoughts in the comments!

Of course, Amelia had to go first. Side note: I’m really pleased with how this picture turned out. It’s the first time I feel I’ve managed to capture a real sense of bounciness in boobs and belly. The background I used in the original render was a little flat, so I photoshopped in another one, which is why Amelia stands out a bit too much. I was going to blend her in a little more, but then I felt the pic had a kind of GTA poster vibe and thought, meh, let's stick with it.

Also feel she’s looking quite Margot Robbie here - an actress I certainly wouldn't mind seeing gain a few lbs for the role!

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Gluttony Profile: Amelia Atwood
So spoilt she’d spit out a silver spoon, Amelia exists in a world of unsurpassed luxury and excess. Private chefs pace the long corridors in her family mansion, heaping guilded tables with the the richest treats and rarest meats known to mankind. With her father lavishing his princess with everything she desires, and her mother setting such a monstrously gluttonous example at the dinner table, it’s little wonder Amelia has developed into a very greedy young lady, whose elegantly manicured fingers stretch lazily towards endless platters of vanilla caviar cupcakes, and whose posh, pampered bottom shifts impatiently atop soft brocaded cushions at the slightest delay between her main course and dessert.

Amelia’s beauty only makes things worse. As fawning servants and salivating suitors rush to appease the faintest rumble from her overindulged tummy, plying their long-limbed and increasingly bosomy blonde goddess with expensive dinners, sugary cocktails and exotic treats in a desperate bid to win her approval, Amelia's already bloated ego has become so puffed and swollen with vanity that she was, for some time, able to ignore the vague sensation of a different kind of puffiness and bloating developing somewhere beneath her perfect, ever-ripening tits. Now that her belly bulges and wobbles beyond deniability, it's too late: despite her immense vanity, Amelia has grown far too greedy and spoilt to curb her appetite. If anything, the revelation that she's putting on weight has made her even greedier, and she can often be found in various haute cafes, fulminating about how unfair it is that she's inherited fat genes from her mother while taking out frustration on the blancmanges with such vigorous fury that her her attending girlfriends are apt to wonder if their leader will soon be inheriting her mother's fat jeans too.

One would be forgiven for thinking that a lady of Amelia's class and snobbish refinement would turn up her powdered nose at more common foods. But this couldn't be further from the truth. Bereft of her usual luxurious fare at university in Newcastle, Amelia gorged on stodgy pasties, battered sausages, chips and overstuffed stotties, compensating for the lower quality with greater quantity - a truly gluttonous response, and probably the reason that she could feel her underbelly wobbling heavily against the cool gold buckle of her Dior belt as she stamped a Vuitton heel and chided her clumsy servants as they packed her many expensive belongings into her Rolls Royce for the Christmas holidays.

No, the only real check on Amelia’s gluttony is that, being so spoilt and pampered, she is unable to cope with even the slightest discomfort. A twinge in the tum might not stop her from finishing her fifth Pierre Herme macaron, but she'd be unlikely to reach for a sixth, preferring instead to collapse into the comfort of her goose-feather pillows, demanding Gaviscon and sympathetic back massages and belly rubs from the nearest male suitor.

Glutton rating: 🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰

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