A real advertising figure (Patreon)

Everything was already set up. The cameras and the equipment for proper lighting were aligned with the tarpaulin spread out on the wall. Everywhere in the hotel room rented for this photo shoot, cables snaked across the floor or there were transport boxes for the expensive equipment. It was a very nice room, not a presidential suite, but the client hadn't gone to any expense.

Tom sat bored on the neat, freshly made double bed and played around with his smartphone. He had been working as a photographer for his current employer for two years. Until then, he had only been allowed to take simple passport or baby photos or similar in the store. He could count on one hand the weddings, birthdays or company parties he had been to during this time to take souvenir photos. Not to mention real sessions with celebrities or models. Basically, nothing exciting ever happened and Tom gradually felt that, despite his personal love of photography, he was becoming more and more bored and bored with this job. Any interesting assignments or shoots that took place outside of the studio were usually taken personally by Tom's boss. So the young photographer was all the more surprised that his employer was very keen for him to turn up at the hotel today with all his equipment, which his boss never actually let him handle on his own, even after more than two years.

The client was a food company that also developed various food supplements. These included various protein and protein supplements. At first, the case was clear to Tom. Presumably some new powder for bodybuilders was to be advertised and he would have to photograph some arrogant Arnold Schwarzenegger lookalike in the hotel. When the young photographer had expressed this theory to his boss, he had only laughed. It wasn't about a man, but a woman was to be photographed to document her progress compared to the first shoot, he had explained to Tom. Well, fine by me, then it won't be a classic bouncer that I'm photographing, but some muscle mommy, he had simply said. Tom's boss had then laughed even louder and said that, as a photographer, you often can't choose what you put in front of the lens. He had left the confused Tom, who somehow had the feeling that he was being taken for a ride, even though he still had no idea what the catch was. Whatever was wrong with this job, his boss seemed to think it was hilarious that Tom was now taking on this job, whereas he didn't want to work with this company again under any circumstances. Curious as to what had been so bad or strange about the first photo shoot, Tom had then searched through the client files but had been stunned to discover that all the photos in question were in his boss's private folder, to which he had no access.

So, without the slightest idea of what was in store for him and with the worst fears of what the hell he was supposed to photograph for this company, Tom had finally set off on the agreed day with all his stuff. The hotel room had already been booked and paid for in advance by the food manufacturer. Tom had calmly set up everything he had with him and time had passed.

Sighing, the young photographer got up from the comfortable bed and put his cell phone aside. The customer was already 20 minutes late. He had checked the agreed time and room number several times, although it was completely out of the question that a mistake had been made. He walked up and down the room with growing resentment. Maybe it had all just been a big, bad joke, as strange as it had all started anyway. On the other hand, Tom couldn't imagine in a hundred years that his tight-fisted, stingy and usually humorless drudge of a boss would let him waste so much time in a hotel room just because of a bad joke.

After another five minutes, Tom finally heard rustling and footsteps outside the hotel room. A card was pushed into the reader and the door swung open. In stepped a man wearing a relatively expensive suit and carrying two large carrier bags over his shoulders.

"Excuse me, the traffic was just hell. Normally I'm never late for things like this. When we finally arrived at the hotel, the elevator at the main entrance was out of order, so we had to take the one on the south side," he began apologetically and put his bags down. Tom had also noticed when he arrived that the elevator was out of order, but even with all his equipment on his back and in his hands, he had managed the stairs to this first-floor room without any problems. Didn't fit the image of some pumped-up jock promoting a protein powder or something, avoiding every extra step.

"Never mind, it's all good. Tom Becker, by the way," said the young photographer, holding out his hand to the man in the suit.

He took it with a friendly smile and shook it. "Klaus Dietrich, Deputy Head of Marketing at ProFood."

"Pleased to meet you."

The door to the room had been left ajar by the company employee and now it opened again. Tom was expecting a broad-shouldered monster of a woman without any feminine features and preferably with a grater's voice darkened by testosterone and a lady's beard. If he had to photograph something like that, he could explain his boss's malicious laughter quite well. Tom's eyes widened and he couldn't stop himself from openly gawking when a rather unusually built woman entered the room. However, she was pretty much the exact opposite of his expectations, but at least Tom could now explain why his boss had thought he could have some fun with this shoot. The lady who now entered the room, slowly and with ponderous waddling steps, did not exactly correspond to today's ideals of beauty. While he stared in surprise at the apparently very young woman coming towards him, Tom had to restrain himself from laughing out loud. She had mass, without question, but it wasn't muscle mass. If only his boss had known what secret inclinations and preferences lay hidden within Tom.

A true beauty of overflowing femininity entered the room. Cheeky, short, red hair and a face as sweet and petite as one could have dreamed of. Adorable chubby cheeks and a shy smile on her cute mouth. Green eyes scrutinized Tom with interest. The young lady was wearing black leggings and a black sweater. Both seemed to be at least one size too small and the fabric struggled to cover really massive fat pads. While Tom recognized very nice, fleshy upper arms packed with fat under the sleeves, a flabby sagging belly divided into two large rolls stood out clearly under her top. The redhead had also squeezed her belly into the completely overstretched trousers and every cellulite dent and fold of fat on her paunch was clearly visible through the fabric. Her breasts were not extraordinarily large for a woman of her size, but two not inconsiderable boobs jiggled under the sweater with every step.

But the most remarkable thing by far was the bottom half of the fat woman. Her large, heavy hanging belly was followed by enormous hips and what Tom thought was a huge protruding ass, at least from the front. An unbelievably broad pear that wobbled up and down with every single movement. However, the feature that most clearly defined the young woman and was responsible for her tiny, waddling steps began under her hips. Thighs that could only be described as enormous flowed almost seamlessly into almost equally huge, swollen lower legs. The young photographer immediately thought of tree trunks, although this did not do justice to the legs, which were completely overloaded with fat. These thighs were almost the size of barrels, it seemed to him. The small feet were about to be almost completely overrun by the fat on the lower legs. Her knees were already completely buried under various rolls of fat and could only be recognized by the folds that were visible in the leggings. It had to be said that this young, beautiful woman was truly gigantic and with every step she laboriously squeezed all the mass of her inner thighs together in order to make any progress at all.

Tom's boss, the stupid asshole, had wanted to take the piss out of him with this job, because surely he himself had thought what normal man would want to photograph such a disgusting, fat pig

Nobody could have imagined what kind of perverse fantasies about chubby, fat, obese and not least blatantly obese women slumbered in the young photographer's head and how long he had dreamed of finally getting a well-fed lady with fierce curves in front of his lens. If only his boss had known, Tom thought and finally managed to stop ogling the young woman so unabashedly. With his most charming smile, he approached the colossal pear and stretched out his hand. He estimated her to weigh at least 200 kg and she wasn't too big, which didn't give all the fat much room to spread. A woman the photographer couldn't have dreamed up any better.

"Hello, Tom Becker, nice to meet you," he began in a friendly manner and took her small, chubby hand.

"Hi, just call me Thea," she replied in a friendly manner, but still a little out of breath. Walking had to be incredibly tiring on the arms and with legs like that, it was perfectly clear to Tom why Thea avoided any unnecessary steps.

"I'm really sorry we're so late," she continued apologetically.

"Never mind, we've got all day if necessary."

Klaus Diedrich walked past Thea and closed the door of the hotel room. Then he clapped his hands and said: "However much time we have, we really should get started."

Tom made a sweeping gesture into the room and hunched his shoulders. "I'm ready when they are." He picked up his camera and stood at some distance in front of the illuminated white screen. Meanwhile, Thea waddled to the bed, her fat masses heaving and jiggling lazily, and lowered her expansive buttocks onto it with a relieved sigh.

"Right then," Dietrich said and began to empty his pockets.

While he did this and various items of clothing, bottles, glasses and other odds and ends came out, he talked to Thea about what poses he wanted her to do first. Tom only listened to a limited extent and kept trying to look over at the obese redhead unnoticed. How could such a young woman already be so fat? What's more, she seemed to be completely at peace with her weight, or so he thought. Then it dawned on him what this could possibly be about.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dietrich," he began carefully. "My boss didn't tell me what we were actually promoting here. Of course, I'm only responsible for the technical aspect and am supposed to take the photos, but I've been thrown in at the deep end here. Is this about some new weight loss product you're making?"

Diedrich looked at him, somewhat confused and amused, while Thea giggled on the edge of the bed.

"It's pretty much the opposite," explained the marketing expert. "With our great Thea here as the advertising figure, we're going to market the new Weight Gain Shake from ProFood. That's why we booked this second shoot, to document the progress of her weight gain. Theoretically, of course, it is also suitable for bodybuilders in the mass phase, but it is intended more for underweight people who have problems with gaining weight. Or..." He grinned and looked meaningfully at Thea, who was also grinning and now blushing slightly. "Or for people who want to gain weight, who love putting on fat and enjoy seeing their body become softer. This will be a whole new market niche if we get into this weight gain fetish and advertise everything in the right way. For example, that our shake can actually minimize the health risks of gaining weight. Maybe not your beer, but I'm telling you our product will hit home and create a whole new target group of people who will be overjoyed with a rising number on the scales."

Tom couldn't have made it clear enough how much this thing was so much his beer, but he didn't say anything at first, just: "Ok, I see. Interesting."

Tom had already felt as if he had magically found himself at the beginning of a fat fetish porn movie just the way he liked it, but he first had to process this explanation, which seemed to come straight from the fantasies of a passionate feeder.

So the photo shoot finally began. First, Thea was photographed in the outfit she had arrived in. Although slightly nervous at first, the fat girl seemed to feel very comfortable and enjoyed the positive attention for her overflowing fat masses. She quickly relaxed and was enthusiastic about it. Smiling warmly, she took every pose Dietrich gave her and which could be done standing and with such tree-trunk legs. Tom only rarely intervened to make small adjustments to Thea's posture. Otherwise, he simply took the required photos and probably had the time of his life with this magnificent pear-shaped figure in front of his lens. His hard-on pressed hard against his jeans, which hopefully couldn't be seen in the bent-over position he adopted when taking the photos. Fascinated and inwardly jubilant, the photographer soaked up all the impressions of the beauty in front of him like a sponge soaks up water. Different hot shapes were formed by the fat every time Thea moved or changed her pose.

After a while, Dietrich instructed Thea to change her top. He handed the fat woman a hooded sweater with a zipper and without further ado she pulled her sweater over her head. Tom sucked in the air sharply and tried to get his head around it. His fat-loving mind must have been playing tricks on him.

When Thea threw her sweater aside, she was standing there in just her bra and tight leggings. A large, fair-skinned roll of upper abdominal fat adorned with stretch marks presented itself above her waistband. While Thea's beautiful, fleshy breasts bounced above it in a bra that was a little too small, the sluggish fat apron that she wore in front of her wobbled from left to right underneath, covered by the leggings.

The first photos with the new top were taken with the zipper open and Thea pressed her tits together with her hands with a seductive look and slightly open, cute mouth. Her boobs almost seemed to pop out of the bra, while the huge pear looked lasciviously and sexily into the camera. Sweat ran down Tom's forehead and his whole body felt hot. His mind was racing as he tried not to hyperventilate from sheer happiness.

Dietrich explained that no matter what advertisement, sex sells. However, they also needed more factual images.

So Thea closed the zipper and posed in a few common poses. This game was repeated several times with various tops. Finally, Dietrich handed the fat woman a black T-shirt and said: "No pants now, dear. We still need to get as much of your great legs and beautiful bottom as possible." Still smiling, Thea nodded. She seemed to be really enjoying all of this. She radiated an infectious joy and enthusiasm. Now Tom understood what Dietrich had meant. With a model like Thea, who had such a grandiose, positive charisma, you could probably get even the most insecure person in the world to get fatter.

The young photographer was almost overwhelmed as he watched Thea take off not only her top but also her tight leggings. What a sight these legs, completely overfilled with fat, were. Tom thought of a sausage skin that was far too stuffed as he looked at these overflowing thighs. Somehow a strange thought but also incredibly horny. With some effort, the fat redhead took off his shoes and socks. It was an extraordinarily arousing sight to see how the inflated lower legs rolled over the cute little feet in a cascade of fat. Thea then pulled the black shirt over her head and put her fat-laden arms through the sleeves. On the chest was written: Gain more Weight! A statement that the young, fat-loving photographer absolutely supported. Everything about the young woman wobbled like jelly as she fiddled with her clothes. In addition to her monster hips and the tree-trunk stompers of legs, Tom's gaze also froze on the now finally free-swinging fatty that sagged in front of Thea's crotch, making the fact that she was actually wearing panties obsolete. Meanwhile, Dietrich had poured something from a sample of the Weight Gain Shake he had brought with him into a glass and put a straw in it. He handed the fat-driving drink to the overweight amateur model.

Immediately afterwards, the constant clacking and clicking of the camera began again as Tom captured this fat beauty in pictures. In between posing, the fat beauty did not miss the opportunity to take a sip of the fattening drink. Last but not least, Thea stood sideways in front of Tom, smiling as she had done the whole time, and held out the glass of Weight Gain Shake invitingly. Her left hand was resting on her well-fed belly while the rest of her fat-fattened sagging belly gave way to gravity. A simply fantastic sight.

"So that was great," said Dietrich and took the glass from Thea. Tom saw that the marketing employee was holding a scale in his other hand, which he had apparently also had in one of his pockets and now placed in front of Thea's chubby feet.

"Should I stand on it completely naked again, like last time? That comes out best in the pictures and the number is then logically the most accurate," said the young woman lightly but with a knowing sideways glance at Tom and a mischievous grin on her small mouth.

"Yes, that would probably be best," Dietrich replied matter-of-factly and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Had the young photographer just misheard him? He prayed he hadn't. His mouth was slightly open and he couldn't take his eyes off the incredibly fat and incredibly beautiful Thea, who was already gripping her panties and making preparations to pull them down over her more than ample hips.

This is a story based on the picture Commercial Girl by the fantastic Koudelka.

A sequel is already being planned.