Short Stacks 11b - WG Edition (Patreon)

This is a collection of flash fiction, based on reader prompts.

Contains: Weight Gain, Noir

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Short Stacks

Volume XIb

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Flash fiction based on this prompt:
A vampire has awoken from a 500-year slumber. However, they’re not used to the sheer fat and sugar in people’s arteries nowadays and are rapidly expanding.

Contains: Weight Gain

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American Diets

“Ahem!”

Lilia’s crimson eyes darted to the open doorway of her private chambers where the unwelcome sound had come from. A statuesque blonde stood watching and waiting. The combatting emotions of respect and annoyance writ plain on her face.

Lilia pushed the human off her lap. Skye was a twenty-something brunette of at least two hundred pounds. She took a few staggering steps and collapsed on the couch beside two more overweight humans passed out there.

The elderly vampire opened her mouth to run an alabaster middle finger along the edge of her lips, licking the last bit of blood off her fingertip.

Humans in this country were delicious.

“What is it, Adelaide?”

“So sorry, Lil–er– Mistress. The council is meeting now.”

Lilia rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Is this the sole purpose for which you have woken me from my slumber? To dabble in petty politics?”

“Um… yes?”

Lilia made a disgusted noise and pushed herself up from the leather-bound wingback chair. Adelaide’s eyes went wide as she saw the near millennia-old vampire’s hips catch briefly on the arms of the chair.

Lilia wore a silk dressing gown appropriately blood-hued, and a silk shift in a matching tone. She crossed the room to a standing wardrobe and flung the solid mahogany doors open. Adelaide continued to stare as the ancient one’s body jiggled and shook with each annoyed step.

There was a time when vampires didn’t get fat. Couldn’t get fat. But over the past fifty years or so, vampires—especially the ones in American covens—learned to restrain themselves when feeding on the well-fed human populace of these modern times.

A lesson Adelaide had been unsuccessful in impressing upon the old world vampire whom she and her allies had woken from her 500-plus year slumber. Tradition and respect demanded that newly–awakened ancient ones be provided all the “cattle” they wanted. It was meant to replenish their cursed bodies from the long sleep.

Lilia’s body had been replenished, and then some.

The ancient one selected a crimson gown from the wardrobe, a sleeveless number with a plunging neckline and laced–back. Adelaide tried to ignore the undignified grunting Lilia made as she slowly worked the garment up her expanded alabaster hips.

When the gown was finally high enough, Lilia slipped her wobbling arms through the straps. Adelaide breathed a sigh of relief that the ancient one hadn’t chosen a gown with sleeves. Lilia pulled her ashen hair over one shoulder and spoke in an imperious tone.

“Lace me up, youngling.”

Adelaide slowly worked the red leather thong through the laces, careful not to touch the well–padded flesh of Lilia’s back. Multiple rolls formed over the ancient one’s back as the red satin pulled tight. Twin swells of porcelain breasts bulged over the neckline as Adelaide struggled to make the laces meet over Lilia’s shoulder blades.

“M–mistress?”

“What is it?” Lilia snapped.

“I… I think this one is too small…”

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Flash fiction based on this prompt:
Young woman secretly overfeeds her werewolf girlfriend while she’s in wolf–woman form

Contains: Weight Gain

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Feedee by Night

Elena lay in bed, trying to read while her girlfriend twisted back and forth in front of a mirror. It wasn’t Vicky’s motion that distracted Elena but her body. Vicky’s sleep pants were skin tight over her thunder thighs, and her belly pressed tightly into the waistband. Elena felt warm for reasons entirely unrelated to the blankets covering her lower half.

“I don’t know how you can say I’m not getting fat when the evidence is right here.” The brunette said.

“I’ve told you a hundred times, Vic, I just don’t see it. I see you, and you’re beautiful.”

Vicky sighed, lifting one arm and poking her slightly flabby bicep.

“Are you sure you’re not letting the wolf out to hunt?”

Elena set her book face down on her lap.

“No, Vicky. I am not letting you go out hunting in wolf form. Now, will you come to bed?”

Vicky sighed again and crawled into bed. Elena set her book on the nightstand and cuddled up next to her girlfriend. She resisted the urge to fondle the curves of her lovely, growing body.

***

When Elena woke less than an hour later, she was greeted by glowing yellow eyes in a face covered with dark fur. Vicky could not use human speech in wolf–woman form, but her eyes sparkled when Elena met them.

“Good morning, love… are you hungry?”

Vicky opened her mouth and panted happily. She followed Elena into the kitchen, where the short blonde pulled a box of donuts from their hiding place in a bottom cabinet. She plucked out a chocolate glazed and tossed it in the air. Vicky, still dressed in sleep pants and a now very tight tank top, caught the donut in her teeth, grabbing it with one clawed hand to devour the confection in two large bites.

Elena handed Vicky the box, then fired up the stove. She made pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, beans, and toast with jam. Each new dish was placed on a plate, which Vicky devoured and licked clean. As the night wore on, the wolf–girl’s furry belly stuck out further and further as their fridge and cabinets got emptier and emptier.

When the windows of the small house started to glow blue around their curtains, Elena started to hear the faint sounds of birdsong starting to pick up. She pulled the last burger patty from the skillet and placed it on a bun. She stepped across the kitchen to where Vicky was seated on the floor, legs spread wide and stomach bloated like a woman in her third trimester of pregnancy.

Elena reached out to stroke the taut dome of Vicky’s furry belly.

“One more treat, love?”

The expression on Vicky’s fanged, bestial face was conflicted.

“Come on, Vic, just one more.”

Elena brought the burger close to the wolf’s mouth, which opened obediently. Vicky chewed slowly and swallowed, bite after bite, as Elena rubbed her packed stomach.

“That’s a good girl… Just a few more bites… Good girl…”

Elena sat on the floor beside her girlfriend, resting her blonde head on one furry shoulder, continuing to stroke Vicky’s belly in long, slow sweeps.

“Good girl… you’re such a good girl…”

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Flash fiction based on this prompt:
Femme fatale gets embarrassingly fat after hero retires

Contains: Weight Gain, Noir

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Femme Fatale

Barbara reclined languidly on a sofa in her apartment. Her beautiful face was lit only by the flickering glow of a nearby television set. The dark-haired woman took a long gulp from a glass of red wine, then set the glass on a table. She reached out a wobbling arm and chubby fingers to pluck another chocolate cherry from a huge bowl.

On the television screen, a slightly younger and much narrower version of Barbara stood in black and white. She wore a form-fitting black dress under a long overcoat and spoke to a handsome but rough and stern-looking man.

“You have to help me, Mister Rhodes! I don’t have anyone else to turn to!”

”Alright, alright, get ahold of yourself, Miss O’Connell! What we need is a plan…”

Barbara’s double chin jiggled as she swallowed her chocolate, then reached into the bowl for another. A harsh ringing shattered the atmosphere of the dark apartment. Barbara reached her arm above her head, fumbling for the handset on the phone.

“Yes?”

“Barb?”

“Yes.”

“Barb, I have another job for you!”

Barbara slowly pushed herself up to a seated position on the sofa. Her wine–and–chocolate stuffed belly rolled forward onto her lap.

“Another job?”

“That’s right!”

“But Harold retired… Who’s going to hire me to play anything other than Brigid?”

“Oh, that’s just it, Barb… the studio found a new leading man for the Ron Rhodes series, and they want you to come back to give the new film continuity.”

“Well… I suppose I could…”

“You… suppose…”

The voice on the phone paused for a long moment. Barbara could hear a sigh and the creaking of a heavy chair being adjusted.

“Barb, you better more than ‘suppose’ you want this part. I’m sticking my neck out for you here.”

“Sorry, sorry, I know. I just, uh…”

Barbara looked down at her body. Her infamous breasts were swollen with fat and sloped to either side of her bloated gut.

“I’ll have to shed a little weight first…”

“Well, do it, and fast. They want to start filming in less than a month.”

The receiver on the other end clicked off.

Barbara replaced the handset on its holder. She reached for another chocolate, then stopped herself. Instead, she put both hands on the sofa and rocked herself forward and back a few times before rising to stand. She stepped across her apartment and switched on an electric lamp near a large mirror that stood in the corner.

Barbara considered her reflection. She wore her nightdress and dressing gown all day now—none of her clothes fit. Her upper arms were nearly as big around as her waist on the still–playing television screen. When she dropped her arms, they floated to both sides, propped up by her vast hips and enormous waistline. She clutched her massive belly in both hands, watching in the mirror as she let it fall, watching it bob and jiggle for several long seconds.

As her gaze traveled from her double-chinned face to her sloping breasts, rounded and drooping belly, baby seal thighs, wobbling calves, and chubby feet, Barbara looked into her own eyes.

“This… is gonna be a problem.”

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Flash fiction based on this prompt:
Girlfriend confessing that their “Love language” is food to their already obese lover.

Contains: Weight Gain

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Her Love Language

Alicia sat across the dining room table from her girlfriend, Mary. It was their third anniversary, and Alicia had a ring box in her pocket. Mary was scooping Fettuccini Alfredo into her mouth ravenously, as she’d been doing for a solid forty-five minutes.

Alicia thought back to when they’d met. Mary had been a fresh college grad—they both had—and just a chubby little thing just over one-seventy. Looking across the table now at her gorgeous quarter–ton lover, Alicia felt warm butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

She waited for Mary to finish eating, then spoke.

“Mary?”

“–hic– Mmm?”

“I love you.”

“Hmm, I love you too, babe.”

“You’ve made every day since I met you better just by being part of it.”

“Aww, you’re so sweet.”

“I want to ask you something…”

Mary’s eyes lit up, and she straightened in her chair, wood creaking and bowling–ball breasts wobbling, flesh jiggled everywhere.

“But first, I have to confess something.”

Mary’s eyes grew concerned, and she quirked an eyebrow at her girlfriend.

“I’ve been keeping a secret from you.”

“W–what?”

“I mean, I haven’t been completely honest.”

“Are… did you cheat on me??”

Alicia’s eyes went wide, and she held both palms out in denial.

“No, no! It’s nothing like that. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“Well, it’s something I’ve never told anyone.”

“Aww, babe. You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Alicia took a deep breath, calming her nerves.

“You’re right, you’re right. Okay. So, you know what ‘love languages’ are?”

“Of course, my mom is super into that stuff.”

“Well, I think there’s some truth in it, at least there is for me.”

“Okay…”

“My love language…”

“Yeah?”

“My love language is food.”

Mary let out a guffaw, arms and boobs and belly wobbling in a way that entranced Alicia for several moments.

“Food?”

“I knew you would laugh!” Alicia pouted.

“I’m sorry, babe, I’m sorry. How can your love language be food?”

“You know, like… cooking, and baking…”

“Well, you’re definitely good at those things…” Mary said, patting her bloated stomach with two chubby hands.

“It’s how I show my feelings for you, okay!? And I just thought I should warn you…”

“Uh… warn me?”

“Yeah… you know… if we stay together, you’re probably gonna keep having weight problems…”

Mary didn’t laugh this time. Alicia met her eyes again.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Y–yeah?”

“Do you really think I care about my weight? About all this?” Mary punctuated her words by hefting her massive gut in both hands, letting it slap back down into her lap with a thud.

“I don’t know…”

“Babe, I love you, and I love your cooking. And if you don’t mind the way I look, then I sure as shit don’t either.”

“Oh Mary…”

Alicia had tears of joy in her eyes now. She jumped up and crossed to kneel beside her partner. “I love you so much. And I love your body. Every inch and pound is a sign to me of our love…”

Mary leaned down and kissed Alicia like she meant it.

Alicia pulled the box from her pocket and opened it to her girlfriend.

“Will you marry me?”

“Of course I will, you weirdo.”

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Flash fiction based on this prompt:
Pregnant woman starts to get cravings for +3000 calorie drinks at Starbucks. It’s been eight months, and these drinks have really taken their toll!

Contains: Weight Gain

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Pregnancy Cravings

Marina and Katy stepped into the warm, bustling Starbucks arm in arm. It was always their first stop before a Saturday of outlets and flea market picking, and today, they were in even higher spirits than usual.

Snaking her arm around her partner’s waist, Marina quirked a pierced eyebrow with concern. “Are you sure you want your usual, babe? I read caffeine isn’t good for the baby.”

The words ‘the baby’ had been Marina’s favorite phrase over the past two weeks since they’d confirmed with the ob-gyn that Katy was, in fact, pregnant. Not that the tall, statuesque blonde minded; the words made a happy warmth bloom in her belly every time she heard them. At this moment, however, Katy’s belly was sending a different signal.

“Don’t worry, babe, I can live with decaf for nine months.”

They reached the counter, where the barista asked for their order. Marina spoke first. “We’d like a Grande Americano with room for cream and light ice. And a latte with almond milk, decaf with—“

Katy cut her wife off mid-order. “Actually, can I try one of those… Nitro foam whipped salted caramel macchiatos?”

Marina looked wide-eyed up at her pregnant partner. Katy blushed faintly. “Um, decaf… and uh… venti?”

The dark-haired Marina paid for their order, and the couple spoke in whispers as they waited.

“You know those things are like, three thousand calories??”

“You’re exaggerating. Plus, I’m starving! I always thought all that pregnant cravings stuff was an urban legend, but I feel like I haven’t eaten in days!”

“I’m just looking out for you, babe…”

Katy reached up to lightly scratch the back of Marina’s neck. “I know you are, but I’m fine. We want the baby to be healthy, right?”

Between Katy’s gentle touch and the use of the magic words, Marina’s resistance melted away. “Of course, of course. You know I appreciate you doing this, right? I just want the baby to be pretty like you.”

“Aww, don’t act like you’re not pretty, too.” Katy slid her hand downward to grab a handful of Marina’s tiny behind, craning her neck to nibble at her wife’s ear.”

“Babe! Not in the Starbucks!”

“Order for Marina!”

As they left the coffee shop, the busty blonde sipped her sugary drink. “Oh my god, this is so good!” She actually touched a manicured hand to her still–flat stomach. “This is exactly what the baby wanted…”

***

Eight Months Later

–bing, bong–

Marina rushed to the door of their apartment, where a DoorDash driver waited with a carrier of four huge coffees.

“Order for Marina?”

“That’s me!”

“Have a nice day!”

Before the door had fully closed, a voice came from the living room. “Is that my coffee, babe?”

“Yeah!”

Marina grimaced at the burden she carried to her pregnant wife. Four gigantic coffees. She’d confirmed in the app that the Trenta size was indeed nearly three thousand calories. But how could she say no to her beautiful blonde partner? Walking into the room where Katy was all but permanently beached these days, Marina tried — and failed — to come up with a good excuse.

Katy sat in their recliner. Her hips spilled over the armrests, and her swollen feet stuck out from her sleep pants. Katy’s ‘pregnant glow’ had started in the first trimester and seemed to grow by the day. Her baby bump was so huge and round that Marina sometimes thought she could curl up and fit in there herself. And her breasts had swollen up to be twice the size of Katy’s own head!

Fighting the arousal deep within her, Marina handed a giant coffee to her partner. “I got four, so they should last all day if you go—“

Katy gulped greedily, breasts wobbling and belly pulsing as the sugary beverage flowed down her throat. Marina thought she could see her wife growing larger with each swallow.

“—go easy on them…”

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Flash fiction based on this prompt:
Crooked accountant who has insider sources in the IRS and can get away with fudging the numbers; to keep a low profile, though, she happily takes a lot of her fees in favors and, quite often, gift baskets. Many, many, many gift baskets….

Contains: Weight Gain

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Under the Table

“–brAAAP–”

Meredith rubbed her prodigious paunch as it spilled over the surface of her desk, threatening to interfere with her use of the keyboard.

“Let’s see Mr Wells… There’s a purchase here for nearly four thousand dollars at a steakhouse?”

Thomas grimaced. “My new wife has a very refined palate…”

“Hmm…” Meredith reached under her desk, bingo wings shaking as she plucked another cupcake from the basket. “Looks like the restaurant’s management corp has a small charity division; we can call it a donation…?”

The man in the Brooks Brothers suit reached for his checkbook. Meredith held up a finger to forestall him.

“Ah ah ah…”

“Oh yes, of course. My apologies…”

Thomas bent down to his calf hide satchel, retrieving a box of Ferrero Rocher. He slid it across the desk, where Meredith’s chubby fingers snatched it away from him. Perching the box on the uppermost swell of her bloated figure, Meredith lifted the lid, inhaling the heavenly aroma.

“Thank you so much for the gift, Mr Wells…”

Meredith unwrapped a chocolate with one hand while she punched in the changes on her computer with the other.

“I think that –munch– should cover it. Your amount owed is barely ten percent of what I see in your last year’s Return.”

“Thank you so much, Meredith. I’ll have the rest of the paym–er– gifts sent before end of day.”

“Thank you, Mr Wells.”

***

Half the lights in the office were already out when Rachel passed by Meredith’s desk. As always, the spindly redhead couldn’t help but do a double–take at the way Meredith’s body spilled out of her chair.

“Working late again, Mare?”

“Oh, Rachel! –urp– Yeah, just a few more Returns to finalize here.”

Rachel looked around Meredith’s cubicle at the piles of food wrappers. There were still several large baskets of snacks and desserts stacked around the obese accountant.

“You –um– get a lot of gifts, huh?”

Meredith unwrapped another brownie and took a bite. The ring of fat around her neck wobbled as she chewed.

“I guesh so.”

She shrugged, and the creaking of her office chair made the smaller woman wince. Meredith’s doublewide donk spilled over both sides of the overtaxed piece of furniture—the armrests had been removed long ago—and there was more body fat bulging out around the backrest than Rachel had on her entire body.

“My clients are –chomp– very generous…”

Rachel swallowed nervously, watching Meredith stuff herself with sweets. The ample accountant seemed to be eating constantly. It made the redhead wonder how she never made herself sick.

“That’s –um– a little unusual, isn’t it?”

Meredith shrugged again, causing a fresh set of creaks from the chair, now harmonizing with her desk, as she leaned forward to grab a bar of Belgian chocolate from a basket just out of reach. She grunted with the effort, squeezing her overpacked gut. Cheap metal and particleboard wood screamed, but Meredith managed to claim her prize. Leaning back in her chair, she unwrapped the candy.

“I guess I’m just really good at my job…”