The Bride (Patreon)

The Bride
By FC Punk

This is going to be the greatest day of your life.

You stare at yourself in the mirror clad in white while your best friends and sorority sisters touched on your makeup, on your hair. Your wedding dress had been fitted back in November. Eight months later it still fit perfectly on your model like waist. You could belong in a magazine.

You were a doll, a dream, an ideal. The train on your dress invoked images of Princess Diana.

It had been a long time coming, this was the realization of a dream long held in your heart. A girl's dream was to become a woman's reality. Your wedding was your fantasy come true. Like out of a fairy tale. You were the princess to be joined in matrimony to the love of your life.

He was handsome with a high paying profession, he spared no expense in meeting your ideal wedding.

Your wedding meant many things to you.

But most importantly it meant something very, very important to you that made your ruby lipstick lips curl up into an infectious smile.

It meant you were going to get fat.

Yes, marriage was a means to an end. You we're going to become a trophy wife to a rich husband and now had the opportunity to cut loose and indulge. You were already curvaceous and your man liked your body, you had no reason not to let yourself go.

It had been a long time coming for cheerleader captain, homecoming queen, prom queen, sorority chapter president you. You had earned this right to lounge around the pool in your bikini and eat chocolate all day long.

Oh just the thought was making you excited. Your friends tut you to control yourself. Shame on you, getting excited before the wedding even started. They just assumed you were being impatient, wanting to consummate the marriage now. Too horny for your own good.

They had no idea, no clue. They hadn't been smartend up to your real goal of living the rest of your life in hedonistic debauchery. Wine all day long. Trips to Hawaii or Italy and Spain. You were already moving to Los Angeles with him. You couldn't wait to let go and eat. No more dieting, no more saying no and denying yourself.

You looked in the mirror and your eyes showed the lust for the food you were going to eat. You wanted to BBQ whenever you could. You wanted the grill going and having parties every night at your home. You were going to drink wine and beer while cooking fattening burgers. You were going to have an entire pantry full of junk food. Chocolates in the freezer. You were going to start baking as well, baking cookies every night just yourself. A fresh batch a day, you weren't going to leave leftovers.

Plus sizes will be in your future, but it's not something that strikes terror in your soul. Your man's money will buy the best and biggest styles. A trophy wife didn't need much clothes anyways. Bikinis will do for a pig wife like you.

You won't lift a finger, you're not going to clean. A maid will do that for you. You have important things to be done in the kitchen. Cooking while watching daytime TV is your new hobby along with drinking wine.

Sex every night. Whenever you wanted it. Trophy wives were made for fucking. You couldn't wait to see what anal would be like with a fat ass.

Cake whenever you wanted. If you messed up the measurements it didn't matter. If you had too much cake batter you would just drink what's left.

You were going to get hoggishly fat. And if your husband objected or said you were getting too big you would divorce him and take his money.

You suddenly gasp loudly and moan carnally.

Your sisters are complaining, admonishing and scolding you for making such a mess. They say you'll have to do it wet.

You pant, your chest rising up and down. You shiver in electric pleasure. You lick your lips, it was time to get fat.

Here comes the bride.