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Re-submission, as I put this in the wrong rating. As per usual, blah bblah this is a weight gain story, if you don't like that kind of thing don't read it, the story's in the comment if you can't read it.
Out in a city, bearing no real name, and no real significance there was a woman, who happened to be in the middle of a journey. A woman by the name of Petra Rabbit was on a journey. Petra was what you would call a happy and sprightly little thing. Pink-furred, with wide, star-lit eyes, and a beautiful face usually framed by square glasses. Petra Rabbit! Bearer of strange powers, and unique, perhaps altogether strange items. This was our heroine, and she was in the middle of a journey. Petra was a woman who had spent all of her life with one duty in mind, one goal, and one prime directive. She turned her gifts and strengths to the protection of the people, towards slaying every monster of the week, whether it was demons, werewolves, Nazis, vampires, aliens, or Nazi-demon-vampire-alien-werewolves. (That particular one was just a strange weekend.)
But for the past year, there had been…nothing. The world was quiet. Peaceful. Petra had pursued the truth in this matter, trying to figure out what had happened and why; and in a world of heroes and villains, spirits and trans-dimensional observers, and the like, one would have thought it would have been easy. But that year had passed, and no one had found out why. So over time, the heroes and the protectors of the world withdrew into the shadows, deciding to take the peace up. To lead their lives with a peace they’d all earned and deserved. All save for Petra, who continued looking, searching for her answers, until eventually she too was forced to give up, and take on a new path—a new journey.
And so here she was.
As with all things, they so started with a look in the mirror, plain and simple. Petra stood in an apartment now, clad in nothing but the bandages she claimed as her undergarments, as she looked at the mirror. A paw resting on her plump hips, Petra was…chubby. Not overly fat, or overly skinny. She was chubby, with a solid layer of fat surrounding her body on all turns. While most would have been happy to look like her, with her excessive chest, and child-bearing hips, Petra could honestly say she was upset. All her life, Petra had staved off any kind of figure with rigorous exercise, and the day-to-day battles of protecting the world. But now…
Well now she was nice and plump; a pleasing figure for a cute little bunny rabbit such as herself. The problem is, Petra should have been upset with herself. Mad. She was letting herself go, slowly but surely. She was Petra Rabbit! Sprightly hero, the bounce-back bunny. The one true protector of that which was good and right with the world. And now she was getting…fat.
She spun ‘round, wiggling her tush at the mirror, and watching her tail rest upon it, as it jiggled.
Petra wanted to be mad, really. She did. But standing there in front of the mirror, Petra realized. That if she hadn’t been needed to defend the world, this might have happened sooner. Petra might have been thicker, curvier. Bigger. Soft.
“…It’s not too late.” She said with a happy grin. “Never that.”
Petra flexed her arms, watching them jiggle ever so softly. It was never too late for her to enjoy herself. Suddenly, Petra bounded out of her apartment, grinning, as she was ever so determined to make up for lost time. At 5’1, and only a hundred and ten pounds, Petra could say one thing for certain. Years of starvation, and exercise were coming to an end.
Over the course of the next few weeks, Petra started eating anything and everything in sight. Never mind that she was a rabbit, and was supposed to be an herbivore, she wanted bacon. Never mind that sweets were incredibly fattening, and supposed to be bad for her, she wanted cakes, cookies, the works! Pizza? The greasier the better. Lasagna? With second and third helpings, please! Every day, Petra ate the most of whatever she wanted, stuffing herself silly just a bit more each day; at worst, ignoring what all of this eating was doing to her figure, or at best relishing in it, watching slowly as she spread out. Her stomach slowly going softer and softer, bigger and bigger; enjoying all jiggling that came in her hearty bust and constantly rounding out hips, or even her ever plumping cushion she called her rear.
And of course it didn’t stop.
One day, Petra was sitting in her apartment, hands resting on the soft belly she was developing, while she waited for one of her deliveries to get here. Petra hardly left the home these days. Having discovered the internet, and better yet the wonders of grocery shops who delivered, she was trying to figure out what to do with her afternoon. She could have eaten, she supposed. After all, there were still some chips left over from last week’s grocery stop. And ooh! There were oreos and cream-pies, too…
Suddenly Petra’s stomach let out a growl, begging for its ever-expanding owner to feed it something, despite her having already eaten a hefty lunch earlier in the day, the likes of which was evident, in the way that it was forcing Petra’s patented novelty black T-shirt to ride the curve of her burgeoning stomach, what with its soft, graspable love-handle handles, and bloated appearance. She smiled, patting it down, as she got off of her couch, and ambled towards her kitchen, with its smooth, well-kept counters, swept down floors, and most importantly? The stainless steel refrigerator.
Tossing open the door, Petra leaned over, and reached into its contents, her ample derriere stretching the sweatpants she’d chosen to wear, much like her pendulous melons stretched and strained at the shirt she wore. All in all, Petra was a heavy bunny, and getting heavier all the time. At this point, she was weighing in at about a 150lbs, all of which sat on her padded frame, and made her look so much softer.
Eventually, Petra pulled out of her refrigerator, smiling now that she’d found a treat better than everything she’d thought of before. She’d found donuts. Left over from a splurge she had last week, Petra remembered having forgotten about them in her excitement about an eating contest that had sprung up. Mm…those hotdogs. Petra hadn’t won, of course. She was a lightweight, yet. But she’d gotten more than her fair share of food out of it, and it was worth it. She’d have stood there reminiscing about her wonderful binge, but her stomach started growling at her, reminding her that there was food now. Petra could hear it now, screaming at her.
“Hey, Lardbutt! Stop fantasizing, and feed me! I’m starvin’ here!”
Rather than keep it waiting, Petra wobbled back into her living room, settling down with a dozen of the finest chocolate filled donuts she’d ever laid eyes on. Oh, this was going to be good. She popped the top on the box, and grabbed one up, stuffing it in her maw, and leaving a smattering of chocolate glaze on her paws. Oh. Oh, that was ecstasy. This was why Petra had porked up so quickly. She delighted in the tastes of everything she’d denied herself for years on end. Everything was a bite of ambrosia, another forbidden treat that she could finally allow herself to have, heaven on the taste buds, and comfort on her waistline.
Thus, why the first one was gone in a matter of bites. The second one much the same. Petra licked her paws clean, freeing them of the gooey goodness, as she shivered in delight. Soon enough, Petra started picking at the third, and the fourth. The fifth, the sixth, the seventh! More, more, more! It didn’t matter that her shirt was slowly becoming a bra now, that her stomach was hitting her with pained complaints. Petra wanted this. It was all she’d ever wanted.
And she was going to have it.
And so the rest of her meal came like that. Chewing her donuts with the same determination that had carried her through battles with all the horrors that once plagued that which was right with the world. Pastries were consumed, their fattening, chewy goodness slowly sliding down her throat, and into her gullet. It was a marathon now, as she crested past the eighth and ninth donuts. This was just like one of her old training routines, slowly making her way past her limits. With only three left in the box, Petra knew the end was in sight. So how could she possibly let those delicious little calorie rings escape her?
So it began, the final stretch. She leaned up, causing pain to shoot through her abdomen. She ignored it, shoving it aside, so she could get at the tenth donut, which she crammed into her chubby cheeked maw, working it over stubbornly and swallowing, before doing the same to the eleventh, and the twelfth? Well, that was just one more dead donut in her quest. Her quest to stuff herself silly!
She leaned back, rubbing at her bloated stomach with both paws on her belly, and a stupid grin on her face in light of the exquisite pain she was feeling at the moment. This was what she lived for, what she’d been missing out on all those years. Looking back on it all, Petra supposed she wasn’t sorry with what she’d done with her life. If given the chance, she’d have done it all over again, without so much as a single look back. She just wished that it hadn’t been necessary, that she could have done this before. She’d have continued thinking on that, but there was the sudden ringing of her door, and she was forced to get up and confront the delivery men with her weekly order. Petra smiled as she opened the door, and started signing away on things, chatting quietly with the cute little sphinx-girl who usually made this delivery.
Cute, Petra reflected. Perhaps Petra would have done something different with her life, had it not been necessary. Perhaps she’d have been happier being a simple, chunky bunny. But in the end, Petra decided it didn’t really matter. Because it wasn’t too late. No, she thought with a grin. Never that.
After that evening, Petra stepped her eating up a notch. She could as much as she wanted, whenever she wanted, however she wanted. She had the money for it, the determination. Why shouldn’t she have a second helping of breakfast? A second lunch? An entire cake for her birthday? Of course she could have it all. She deserved it, and refused to stop.
One day, Petra decided that she was over-due to check on her progress. Thus, she was in her bathroom, standing on a scale so underused that she was forced to stoop over, and blow the dust off of it. There was just one problem; Petra’s bloated mid-section didn’t exactly allow for her to “bend over”.
That was, after all, such a task for a more limber, skinnier person to do. Why would she bother with bending over for? Eventually, after much belated huffing and puffing from her fantastic and epic exertions, she managed to get the scale dusted off. Wiping off the beads of sweat that had thus far accumulated for all of her hard work, Petra got on the scale. It was here that Petra ran into her second problem.
That of seeing past her…everything.
She frowned. She leaned to the left, leaned to the right, leaned back (And nearly fell onto her portly rear end for all of her troubles), tried sucking in her gut, and pushing back her wooly mammoth mammaries, all to little or no avail. Eventually she had the brilliant idea to push the scale in front of the full length mirror in her bathroom. Once there, she stood up on the scale again, whilst looking at herself. She was…
Well. How would one react if they were more than three times their original size? For Petra, it was…odd. To see that her belly had crested into an apron that rested upon her lap, her belly button so deep that she could lose a finger in it—or hold onto things with her love handles. To see that her hips were the biggest part of her yet, making her that much bigger, that much wider, with the two fleshy orbs sticking out behind her, basketball sized as they were, and curving into thighs so richly padded that they were like miniature cakes having been smashed into one another. To see that her breasts, which had once been flatter than flapjacks, to be large, perky. Double-D’s, that she could hold and squeeze. She moaned, relishing in her three hundred pound body as she started exploring every fold, every curve.
It hit her then. Three hundred pounds. Petra was three hundred pounds. When was the last time she left the house? The last time she had even attempted exercising, or socializing with anyone besides that delivery girl, Laura? She couldn’t recall. She’d noticed that things were starting to cool as of late. Maybe it was late fall? She paused, and knit her brows together, deciding to take a look in the mirror. Late fall…
Petra had grown lazy. Fat. Indulgent. Everything the old her could have never allowed herself to be. Realizing these kinds of things was always the first step in dealing with them. But how did she want deal with them? She supposed that if she wanted to, she could have lost the weight. After all. This was three hundred pounds. Wasn’t that unhealthy? That was supposed to be unhealthy!
But there was that oh so seductive part of her brain speaking up, the voice which spoke for all of her cravings; whenever the rare moment came that she wasn’t utterly stuffed to the gills, and her stomach was screaming at her to fix that. It whispered to her. Why would she lose weight? Didn’t it feel good to be this big? Didn’t she love all the greasy fried foods she’d come to stuff herself? What about that carrot cake she had sitting in the refrigerator, or the gallon ice cream tubs? Was she just supposed to throw that all out? For what? A figure she didn’t even want in the first place? No, Petra was going to eat. This was her life now. This body, its curves. It was hers now, all of it. And as her stomach was so keen to remind her, with its rampant growling which was growing louder and louder by the day, she needed to fuel that body.
She put her scale aside, and waddled out of the bathroom, for that was what fat people did. They waddled, and her with her massive thighs rubbing against one another, were no exception.
“I think I’ll have me that cake….” She told herself with a grin.
As with all things, Petra’s look in the mirror did nothing to slow her gains, or curtail her eating habits. They merely fueled them, and at this point, she no longer got food that was merely tasty. She got the most fattening foods she could possibly find. Carrot cake gave way to cheese cake. Layered cheese cake. A single pizza became two, and then eventually three. There was no food too unhealthy, too greasy, for her to eat, so long as it all went to her rounder ass.
She ignored such petty, trivial things as outgrowing her wardrobe. She had for a long time now, either ordering online clothes, or driving to the store wearing sweatpants that were perfectly molded to her generous backside, or shirts that did nothing to cover up the massive stomach that lay beneath it. Who was she to bother with such things as decency anymore? She was Petra rabbit, just another civilian now. She’d earned the right to do whatever she wanted, however she wanted.
If she wanted to come into a McDonalds, a complete and sweaty mess from the exhausting walk from the parking lot to the front door, she could do that.
Needless to say, Petra’s gaining was exponential. Between her being too lazy to be bothered to fix her wholly unhealthy habits, and the fact that she hardly felt the need to go out anymore with the quickly cooling climate, it was simply a fact that couldn’t be helped. She tried to keep up with her gains regularly of course, but after an incident where she broke her a scale—a scale designed to go up to four hundred pounds or more—she’d given up on that for the time being, deciding to simply order another one online, and eyeball her weight in the meanwhile.
And eyeball, she did not. With a waistline that was perpetually getting thicker, heavier, she couldn’t be bothered to get off of the couch some days. She was completely, and utterly taken by her eating now. She’d eat and eat and eat, until she was fit to burst.
And then of course, she’d have seconds.
Or thirds.
Or fourths.
Really, whatever happened to suit her at the time.
The day finally did come when her new scale arrived though. She was in the middle of a particular good gorge fest; it was a week after thanksgiving, and she’d had enough food left over from her stuffing on that day to feed a small nation for a month. She was just about at the end of it, judging by the gravy stains on her fur. At any rate, she put down a haunch of turkey, when she heard the doorbell ring. She clapped her chubby little paws together, and smiled, calling out to the person who’d delivered her order.
“I’ll be right there in a second!”
A second turned out to be ten minutes later, as she struggled and strived to move her bloated form from the couch that she’d been occupying for months now. When she finally did managed to un-wedge herself from the seat cushions, an act which had left a permanent imprint of her overly bumper-sized buttocks, she started towards the door, her heavy foot-falls shaking parts of the apartment as she waddled and wheezed her way about
When she finally made it to the door, out of breath and sweaty, she opened it up to find—not a delivery person, but Laura. Laura, who was holding the box which held her scale. Laura who had taken the time to get to know Petra over the recent days. Laura, whose heart went aflutter when she saw the sight of the over-weight bunny rabbit at the door.
To give a brief description of Laura, she was a sphinx. A fierce amalgamation of the most ferocious parts of any and all predators. Her sweet golden dust-colored fur did nothing to hide the muscle lining her frame. Abs that weren’t so much comprised of steel, as they were of titanium. Biceps and deltoids that were pillars of visceral strength, not unlike her legs, which seemed to be barrel-like in nature, without so much as a hint of fat visible anywhere. Her chest was lacking per se, but Laura was an impressive creature; six feet tall, shoulders like a god, a lion’s tail every bit as long as she was, and the wings of a hawk, few could say they didn’t find her a completely stunning creature; with today being no different, as she wore tight hugging jeans and a tube-top that showed off her well-kept figure.
Why she was interested in Petra of all people tended to boggle the minds of most.
“Petra! …You’ve been exercising, haven’t you?” She said with her brows knit together.
Petra, who by this point was still catching her breath, and quivering like jello, waved a hand at the woman, completely disregarding the ridiculous notion that she of all people would have even bothered to invest in losing weight.
“No…just. Moving a bit. That my scale?” She asked as she moved a fleshy forearm up to push her fogged-over glasses back in place.
“Yup!” Laura said with a grin. Since Petra had gained weight, she’d found it more and more difficult to display the bountiful amounts of happiness and good cheer she’d once possessed. She was by no means discontent with her life in any way. She simply lacked the energy she once had, as a smaller rabbit. Luckily, Laura was there to provide, moving into her home with the powerful swagger of a bonafide predator. A queen of the jungle. Petra moved to follow her, though at a much slower pace, as she wasn’t used to moving her bulk this much in the space of fifteen minutes.
“Where do you want this, gorgeous?”
“Anywhere’s good, really.”
“Ooooh! Does this mean I can set it down in your bathroom? Get that sexy ass out of those poor little scraps you call clothes?” Laura asked, tones light and teasing, as she moved with the package towards Petra’s bathroom. Petra smiled, and followed after her, not saying anything for a time. The reason for that being rather simple.
Laura rarely had to ask anymore.
Soon enough, the two were in the bathroom, with Petra slowly getting used to all the moving she was being forced to do today. Laura quickly opened up Petra’s package with a slice of her claws, tearing open tape, and ripping through Styrofoam, so as to claim the prize laying in the deep recesses of the box: A stainless steel scale, its metal brushed, and its digital display perfectly raring to go. There were even batteries included, god bless those magical pharmaceutical companies making money off of these things. Eventually Laura had everything set up, and Petra stepped onto it.
“What’s it say?” She asked, as it had been sometime since Petra had last seen her feet, or really, anything past the nearest food line at a buffet of some sort.
“I…” Laura had stooped over, hands in her pockets, as the generous slopes of her own muscled rear stood up in the air. “The…you sure you want to hear it, babe?” She asked, standing up with her brows knit once again, as she leaned over to wrap an arm around her husky lover’s shoulders.
“Whatever it is, I can take it.” Petra assured her.
“Alright then…hon’, you weigh 621 lbs.” Laura said gently.
Petra just stared at her. 621 lbs. The number was staggering. That was how many pounds of fat? Five-hundred and forty. Five-hundred and forty pounds of fat, all of which belonged to Petra. Nearly six-hundred pounds of fat, of cakes, of pizza, donuts, sugary sweets, fast foods. Burgers, deep-fried turkeys, pies. Eclairs, custards. Barbecue. All of it was hers. Petra looked towards her mirror at last, and she found herself greeted with a stranger.
A roll of fat, which swaddled the place where her neck used to be. Cheeks the size of cantaloupes, threatening to swallow her head. Arms so thick they resembled cheese-wheels, more than anything else. A stomach so large, that it sagged past her knees, and was slowly but surely, encroaching upon her feet. Hips that got stuck in double doors, and sent people flying towards the ground, when she didn’t pay attention. Her ass was so fat that she actually let food rest on it, when the rare occasion arose that she should go outside and walk. Her breasts—her breasts were so large, that if her hips didn’t knock people over, her breasts very well might. Petra had exceeded past the realm of fat, of the overweight, the obese. Petra was a land whale in a bunny rabbit’s pink-furred body.
She grinned.
“Oooh…I’m getting kind of fat, aren’t I?” She asked with a grin, as Laura stared back at her, seemingly dumb-founded by her girlfriend’s attitude about the situation. “Hrm…I like being fat. But you know what? I think I would look better if I was obese. Don’t you?”
Laura said nothing. Nothing.
And then she too broke out into a grin.
Five hours later, when night had long over-taken the sun, and most of the world had gone to bed, Petra sat upon the couch once more, whose frame was groaning with the absurd amount of weight it had to support at the moment. It, however, was not the only thing groaning. There was also the sound of Petra groaning, letting out the occasional belch every now and again, as the angel that was Laura have her stomach a thorough massage. It was only fair, that Laura do so. After all, she had stuffed poor Petra to the gills. Not that she was complaining, of course.”
“Oooh….*hic* Laura?”
Laura glanced up from the task of making her sweet bunny rabbit goddess comfortable. “Yeah, hon’?”
“What’s for breakfast tomorrow?”
And that was Petra’s life then. Laura simply fell into it one day, taking care of her sweet bunny rabbit lover. Feeding her, cleaning up the apartment so Petra didn’t have to waste precious calories exhausting herself with the rigors of every day work. As for Petra, she did what Petra did best. She ate until she couldn’t afford to eat anymore, and then she ate just a little bit more after that.
At this point, with Laura doing all the work for her, cleaning, taking care of her house work, cooking—and oh, good god, did the woman cook—Petra’s weight gain grew out of control. Soon, there were days where Petra didn’t get up at all. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. And now, here they were. A year later.
“LAAAAAAAAAAAAAURAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Roared the irate voice of some creature mired in what must have been dire straits. “I’M STARVING OVER HERE! WHEN’S LUNCH!?”
Laura’s voice, as sweet and melodic as ever, rang from another part of their new home, the likes of which was filled with the ding of pots and pans constantly banging against one another, as they were put to the test.
“Coming, honey!”
And come she did. Laura came into a room, simple in nature. Large and spacious, and not too thoroughly adorned with any furniture of particular note. There was the matter of the king-sized beds that had been pushed together, but they weren’t too terribly important. Not as important as their occupant at any rate.
Upon those beds, sat the creature once known as Petra. Once known as Petra, for this creature shared none of that old, sweet girl’s qualities. Petra had been a lithe and lean bunny. Happy, and permanently smiling; a hero to the people, though they hardly knew it, and a champion of all the virtues that common decency upheld. This creature on the other hand, was the complete and polar opposite of that. She was a blob of pink and white fur. A row of chins spread from her face, melding with the great slabs of fat that were her chest—so suffused with fat that they nearly reached the belly button of the great beast’s stomach, which in turn was an affair so utterly fattened that it rested upon the edge of the bed, and covered up her tree-trunk legs, both of which were so utterly bloated that they had rings of fat to them, and threatened to swallow her chubby toes. No, this creature was hardly Petra. Petra never raised her voice to anyone who wasn’t down-right evil. This creature yelled constantly, and it was ever only for one thing.
Food.
Which as it just so happened, Laura was bringing with her. Soups seemed to be on today’s menu, likely because it was easier for her to feed Petra with. Smiling as she wheeled carts of soup in, she waved at her lover.
“Hey, hon’. You missed me?”
The creature formerly known as Petra wiggled her forearms, which was about as much movement as she got in these days. “You know I did, honey…but I miss your cooking more. Food? Please?”
Laura simply grinned. Wasting no time, she wheeled the soup carts up towards the bed, and set to the work of feeding Petra. Simply opening up the massive pots that held Petra’s meal, and preparing to pour them in. One supposes that was the end of it. With Laura feeding Petra, and Petra greedily eating everything that was placed before her. One supposes too, that if was that was the end of Petra’s journey, that there was a certain truth to be had in things. The end of our heroes was never nigh.
Rather, the end was thigh.
Out in a city, bearing no real name, and no real significance there was a woman, who happened to be in the middle of a journey. A woman by the name of Petra Rabbit was on a journey. Petra was what you would call a happy and sprightly little thing. Pink-furred, with wide, star-lit eyes, and a beautiful face usually framed by square glasses. Petra Rabbit! Bearer of strange powers, and unique, perhaps altogether strange items. This was our heroine, and she was in the middle of a journey. Petra was a woman who had spent all of her life with one duty in mind, one goal, and one prime directive. She turned her gifts and strengths to the protection of the people, towards slaying every monster of the week, whether it was demons, werewolves, Nazis, vampires, aliens, or Nazi-demon-vampire-alien-werewolves. (That particular one was just a strange weekend.)
But for the past year, there had been…nothing. The world was quiet. Peaceful. Petra had pursued the truth in this matter, trying to figure out what had happened and why; and in a world of heroes and villains, spirits and trans-dimensional observers, and the like, one would have thought it would have been easy. But that year had passed, and no one had found out why. So over time, the heroes and the protectors of the world withdrew into the shadows, deciding to take the peace up. To lead their lives with a peace they’d all earned and deserved. All save for Petra, who continued looking, searching for her answers, until eventually she too was forced to give up, and take on a new path—a new journey.
And so here she was.
As with all things, they so started with a look in the mirror, plain and simple. Petra stood in an apartment now, clad in nothing but the bandages she claimed as her undergarments, as she looked at the mirror. A paw resting on her plump hips, Petra was…chubby. Not overly fat, or overly skinny. She was chubby, with a solid layer of fat surrounding her body on all turns. While most would have been happy to look like her, with her excessive chest, and child-bearing hips, Petra could honestly say she was upset. All her life, Petra had staved off any kind of figure with rigorous exercise, and the day-to-day battles of protecting the world. But now…
Well now she was nice and plump; a pleasing figure for a cute little bunny rabbit such as herself. The problem is, Petra should have been upset with herself. Mad. She was letting herself go, slowly but surely. She was Petra Rabbit! Sprightly hero, the bounce-back bunny. The one true protector of that which was good and right with the world. And now she was getting…fat.
She spun ‘round, wiggling her tush at the mirror, and watching her tail rest upon it, as it jiggled.
Petra wanted to be mad, really. She did. But standing there in front of the mirror, Petra realized. That if she hadn’t been needed to defend the world, this might have happened sooner. Petra might have been thicker, curvier. Bigger. Soft.
“…It’s not too late.” She said with a happy grin. “Never that.”
Petra flexed her arms, watching them jiggle ever so softly. It was never too late for her to enjoy herself. Suddenly, Petra bounded out of her apartment, grinning, as she was ever so determined to make up for lost time. At 5’1, and only a hundred and ten pounds, Petra could say one thing for certain. Years of starvation, and exercise were coming to an end.
Over the course of the next few weeks, Petra started eating anything and everything in sight. Never mind that she was a rabbit, and was supposed to be an herbivore, she wanted bacon. Never mind that sweets were incredibly fattening, and supposed to be bad for her, she wanted cakes, cookies, the works! Pizza? The greasier the better. Lasagna? With second and third helpings, please! Every day, Petra ate the most of whatever she wanted, stuffing herself silly just a bit more each day; at worst, ignoring what all of this eating was doing to her figure, or at best relishing in it, watching slowly as she spread out. Her stomach slowly going softer and softer, bigger and bigger; enjoying all jiggling that came in her hearty bust and constantly rounding out hips, or even her ever plumping cushion she called her rear.
And of course it didn’t stop.
One day, Petra was sitting in her apartment, hands resting on the soft belly she was developing, while she waited for one of her deliveries to get here. Petra hardly left the home these days. Having discovered the internet, and better yet the wonders of grocery shops who delivered, she was trying to figure out what to do with her afternoon. She could have eaten, she supposed. After all, there were still some chips left over from last week’s grocery stop. And ooh! There were oreos and cream-pies, too…
Suddenly Petra’s stomach let out a growl, begging for its ever-expanding owner to feed it something, despite her having already eaten a hefty lunch earlier in the day, the likes of which was evident, in the way that it was forcing Petra’s patented novelty black T-shirt to ride the curve of her burgeoning stomach, what with its soft, graspable love-handle handles, and bloated appearance. She smiled, patting it down, as she got off of her couch, and ambled towards her kitchen, with its smooth, well-kept counters, swept down floors, and most importantly? The stainless steel refrigerator.
Tossing open the door, Petra leaned over, and reached into its contents, her ample derriere stretching the sweatpants she’d chosen to wear, much like her pendulous melons stretched and strained at the shirt she wore. All in all, Petra was a heavy bunny, and getting heavier all the time. At this point, she was weighing in at about a 150lbs, all of which sat on her padded frame, and made her look so much softer.
Eventually, Petra pulled out of her refrigerator, smiling now that she’d found a treat better than everything she’d thought of before. She’d found donuts. Left over from a splurge she had last week, Petra remembered having forgotten about them in her excitement about an eating contest that had sprung up. Mm…those hotdogs. Petra hadn’t won, of course. She was a lightweight, yet. But she’d gotten more than her fair share of food out of it, and it was worth it. She’d have stood there reminiscing about her wonderful binge, but her stomach started growling at her, reminding her that there was food now. Petra could hear it now, screaming at her.
“Hey, Lardbutt! Stop fantasizing, and feed me! I’m starvin’ here!”
Rather than keep it waiting, Petra wobbled back into her living room, settling down with a dozen of the finest chocolate filled donuts she’d ever laid eyes on. Oh, this was going to be good. She popped the top on the box, and grabbed one up, stuffing it in her maw, and leaving a smattering of chocolate glaze on her paws. Oh. Oh, that was ecstasy. This was why Petra had porked up so quickly. She delighted in the tastes of everything she’d denied herself for years on end. Everything was a bite of ambrosia, another forbidden treat that she could finally allow herself to have, heaven on the taste buds, and comfort on her waistline.
Thus, why the first one was gone in a matter of bites. The second one much the same. Petra licked her paws clean, freeing them of the gooey goodness, as she shivered in delight. Soon enough, Petra started picking at the third, and the fourth. The fifth, the sixth, the seventh! More, more, more! It didn’t matter that her shirt was slowly becoming a bra now, that her stomach was hitting her with pained complaints. Petra wanted this. It was all she’d ever wanted.
And she was going to have it.
And so the rest of her meal came like that. Chewing her donuts with the same determination that had carried her through battles with all the horrors that once plagued that which was right with the world. Pastries were consumed, their fattening, chewy goodness slowly sliding down her throat, and into her gullet. It was a marathon now, as she crested past the eighth and ninth donuts. This was just like one of her old training routines, slowly making her way past her limits. With only three left in the box, Petra knew the end was in sight. So how could she possibly let those delicious little calorie rings escape her?
So it began, the final stretch. She leaned up, causing pain to shoot through her abdomen. She ignored it, shoving it aside, so she could get at the tenth donut, which she crammed into her chubby cheeked maw, working it over stubbornly and swallowing, before doing the same to the eleventh, and the twelfth? Well, that was just one more dead donut in her quest. Her quest to stuff herself silly!
She leaned back, rubbing at her bloated stomach with both paws on her belly, and a stupid grin on her face in light of the exquisite pain she was feeling at the moment. This was what she lived for, what she’d been missing out on all those years. Looking back on it all, Petra supposed she wasn’t sorry with what she’d done with her life. If given the chance, she’d have done it all over again, without so much as a single look back. She just wished that it hadn’t been necessary, that she could have done this before. She’d have continued thinking on that, but there was the sudden ringing of her door, and she was forced to get up and confront the delivery men with her weekly order. Petra smiled as she opened the door, and started signing away on things, chatting quietly with the cute little sphinx-girl who usually made this delivery.
Cute, Petra reflected. Perhaps Petra would have done something different with her life, had it not been necessary. Perhaps she’d have been happier being a simple, chunky bunny. But in the end, Petra decided it didn’t really matter. Because it wasn’t too late. No, she thought with a grin. Never that.
After that evening, Petra stepped her eating up a notch. She could as much as she wanted, whenever she wanted, however she wanted. She had the money for it, the determination. Why shouldn’t she have a second helping of breakfast? A second lunch? An entire cake for her birthday? Of course she could have it all. She deserved it, and refused to stop.
One day, Petra decided that she was over-due to check on her progress. Thus, she was in her bathroom, standing on a scale so underused that she was forced to stoop over, and blow the dust off of it. There was just one problem; Petra’s bloated mid-section didn’t exactly allow for her to “bend over”.
That was, after all, such a task for a more limber, skinnier person to do. Why would she bother with bending over for? Eventually, after much belated huffing and puffing from her fantastic and epic exertions, she managed to get the scale dusted off. Wiping off the beads of sweat that had thus far accumulated for all of her hard work, Petra got on the scale. It was here that Petra ran into her second problem.
That of seeing past her…everything.
She frowned. She leaned to the left, leaned to the right, leaned back (And nearly fell onto her portly rear end for all of her troubles), tried sucking in her gut, and pushing back her wooly mammoth mammaries, all to little or no avail. Eventually she had the brilliant idea to push the scale in front of the full length mirror in her bathroom. Once there, she stood up on the scale again, whilst looking at herself. She was…
Well. How would one react if they were more than three times their original size? For Petra, it was…odd. To see that her belly had crested into an apron that rested upon her lap, her belly button so deep that she could lose a finger in it—or hold onto things with her love handles. To see that her hips were the biggest part of her yet, making her that much bigger, that much wider, with the two fleshy orbs sticking out behind her, basketball sized as they were, and curving into thighs so richly padded that they were like miniature cakes having been smashed into one another. To see that her breasts, which had once been flatter than flapjacks, to be large, perky. Double-D’s, that she could hold and squeeze. She moaned, relishing in her three hundred pound body as she started exploring every fold, every curve.
It hit her then. Three hundred pounds. Petra was three hundred pounds. When was the last time she left the house? The last time she had even attempted exercising, or socializing with anyone besides that delivery girl, Laura? She couldn’t recall. She’d noticed that things were starting to cool as of late. Maybe it was late fall? She paused, and knit her brows together, deciding to take a look in the mirror. Late fall…
Petra had grown lazy. Fat. Indulgent. Everything the old her could have never allowed herself to be. Realizing these kinds of things was always the first step in dealing with them. But how did she want deal with them? She supposed that if she wanted to, she could have lost the weight. After all. This was three hundred pounds. Wasn’t that unhealthy? That was supposed to be unhealthy!
But there was that oh so seductive part of her brain speaking up, the voice which spoke for all of her cravings; whenever the rare moment came that she wasn’t utterly stuffed to the gills, and her stomach was screaming at her to fix that. It whispered to her. Why would she lose weight? Didn’t it feel good to be this big? Didn’t she love all the greasy fried foods she’d come to stuff herself? What about that carrot cake she had sitting in the refrigerator, or the gallon ice cream tubs? Was she just supposed to throw that all out? For what? A figure she didn’t even want in the first place? No, Petra was going to eat. This was her life now. This body, its curves. It was hers now, all of it. And as her stomach was so keen to remind her, with its rampant growling which was growing louder and louder by the day, she needed to fuel that body.
She put her scale aside, and waddled out of the bathroom, for that was what fat people did. They waddled, and her with her massive thighs rubbing against one another, were no exception.
“I think I’ll have me that cake….” She told herself with a grin.
As with all things, Petra’s look in the mirror did nothing to slow her gains, or curtail her eating habits. They merely fueled them, and at this point, she no longer got food that was merely tasty. She got the most fattening foods she could possibly find. Carrot cake gave way to cheese cake. Layered cheese cake. A single pizza became two, and then eventually three. There was no food too unhealthy, too greasy, for her to eat, so long as it all went to her rounder ass.
She ignored such petty, trivial things as outgrowing her wardrobe. She had for a long time now, either ordering online clothes, or driving to the store wearing sweatpants that were perfectly molded to her generous backside, or shirts that did nothing to cover up the massive stomach that lay beneath it. Who was she to bother with such things as decency anymore? She was Petra rabbit, just another civilian now. She’d earned the right to do whatever she wanted, however she wanted.
If she wanted to come into a McDonalds, a complete and sweaty mess from the exhausting walk from the parking lot to the front door, she could do that.
Needless to say, Petra’s gaining was exponential. Between her being too lazy to be bothered to fix her wholly unhealthy habits, and the fact that she hardly felt the need to go out anymore with the quickly cooling climate, it was simply a fact that couldn’t be helped. She tried to keep up with her gains regularly of course, but after an incident where she broke her a scale—a scale designed to go up to four hundred pounds or more—she’d given up on that for the time being, deciding to simply order another one online, and eyeball her weight in the meanwhile.
And eyeball, she did not. With a waistline that was perpetually getting thicker, heavier, she couldn’t be bothered to get off of the couch some days. She was completely, and utterly taken by her eating now. She’d eat and eat and eat, until she was fit to burst.
And then of course, she’d have seconds.
Or thirds.
Or fourths.
Really, whatever happened to suit her at the time.
The day finally did come when her new scale arrived though. She was in the middle of a particular good gorge fest; it was a week after thanksgiving, and she’d had enough food left over from her stuffing on that day to feed a small nation for a month. She was just about at the end of it, judging by the gravy stains on her fur. At any rate, she put down a haunch of turkey, when she heard the doorbell ring. She clapped her chubby little paws together, and smiled, calling out to the person who’d delivered her order.
“I’ll be right there in a second!”
A second turned out to be ten minutes later, as she struggled and strived to move her bloated form from the couch that she’d been occupying for months now. When she finally did managed to un-wedge herself from the seat cushions, an act which had left a permanent imprint of her overly bumper-sized buttocks, she started towards the door, her heavy foot-falls shaking parts of the apartment as she waddled and wheezed her way about
When she finally made it to the door, out of breath and sweaty, she opened it up to find—not a delivery person, but Laura. Laura, who was holding the box which held her scale. Laura who had taken the time to get to know Petra over the recent days. Laura, whose heart went aflutter when she saw the sight of the over-weight bunny rabbit at the door.
To give a brief description of Laura, she was a sphinx. A fierce amalgamation of the most ferocious parts of any and all predators. Her sweet golden dust-colored fur did nothing to hide the muscle lining her frame. Abs that weren’t so much comprised of steel, as they were of titanium. Biceps and deltoids that were pillars of visceral strength, not unlike her legs, which seemed to be barrel-like in nature, without so much as a hint of fat visible anywhere. Her chest was lacking per se, but Laura was an impressive creature; six feet tall, shoulders like a god, a lion’s tail every bit as long as she was, and the wings of a hawk, few could say they didn’t find her a completely stunning creature; with today being no different, as she wore tight hugging jeans and a tube-top that showed off her well-kept figure.
Why she was interested in Petra of all people tended to boggle the minds of most.
“Petra! …You’ve been exercising, haven’t you?” She said with her brows knit together.
Petra, who by this point was still catching her breath, and quivering like jello, waved a hand at the woman, completely disregarding the ridiculous notion that she of all people would have even bothered to invest in losing weight.
“No…just. Moving a bit. That my scale?” She asked as she moved a fleshy forearm up to push her fogged-over glasses back in place.
“Yup!” Laura said with a grin. Since Petra had gained weight, she’d found it more and more difficult to display the bountiful amounts of happiness and good cheer she’d once possessed. She was by no means discontent with her life in any way. She simply lacked the energy she once had, as a smaller rabbit. Luckily, Laura was there to provide, moving into her home with the powerful swagger of a bonafide predator. A queen of the jungle. Petra moved to follow her, though at a much slower pace, as she wasn’t used to moving her bulk this much in the space of fifteen minutes.
“Where do you want this, gorgeous?”
“Anywhere’s good, really.”
“Ooooh! Does this mean I can set it down in your bathroom? Get that sexy ass out of those poor little scraps you call clothes?” Laura asked, tones light and teasing, as she moved with the package towards Petra’s bathroom. Petra smiled, and followed after her, not saying anything for a time. The reason for that being rather simple.
Laura rarely had to ask anymore.
Soon enough, the two were in the bathroom, with Petra slowly getting used to all the moving she was being forced to do today. Laura quickly opened up Petra’s package with a slice of her claws, tearing open tape, and ripping through Styrofoam, so as to claim the prize laying in the deep recesses of the box: A stainless steel scale, its metal brushed, and its digital display perfectly raring to go. There were even batteries included, god bless those magical pharmaceutical companies making money off of these things. Eventually Laura had everything set up, and Petra stepped onto it.
“What’s it say?” She asked, as it had been sometime since Petra had last seen her feet, or really, anything past the nearest food line at a buffet of some sort.
“I…” Laura had stooped over, hands in her pockets, as the generous slopes of her own muscled rear stood up in the air. “The…you sure you want to hear it, babe?” She asked, standing up with her brows knit once again, as she leaned over to wrap an arm around her husky lover’s shoulders.
“Whatever it is, I can take it.” Petra assured her.
“Alright then…hon’, you weigh 621 lbs.” Laura said gently.
Petra just stared at her. 621 lbs. The number was staggering. That was how many pounds of fat? Five-hundred and forty. Five-hundred and forty pounds of fat, all of which belonged to Petra. Nearly six-hundred pounds of fat, of cakes, of pizza, donuts, sugary sweets, fast foods. Burgers, deep-fried turkeys, pies. Eclairs, custards. Barbecue. All of it was hers. Petra looked towards her mirror at last, and she found herself greeted with a stranger.
A roll of fat, which swaddled the place where her neck used to be. Cheeks the size of cantaloupes, threatening to swallow her head. Arms so thick they resembled cheese-wheels, more than anything else. A stomach so large, that it sagged past her knees, and was slowly but surely, encroaching upon her feet. Hips that got stuck in double doors, and sent people flying towards the ground, when she didn’t pay attention. Her ass was so fat that she actually let food rest on it, when the rare occasion arose that she should go outside and walk. Her breasts—her breasts were so large, that if her hips didn’t knock people over, her breasts very well might. Petra had exceeded past the realm of fat, of the overweight, the obese. Petra was a land whale in a bunny rabbit’s pink-furred body.
She grinned.
“Oooh…I’m getting kind of fat, aren’t I?” She asked with a grin, as Laura stared back at her, seemingly dumb-founded by her girlfriend’s attitude about the situation. “Hrm…I like being fat. But you know what? I think I would look better if I was obese. Don’t you?”
Laura said nothing. Nothing.
And then she too broke out into a grin.
Five hours later, when night had long over-taken the sun, and most of the world had gone to bed, Petra sat upon the couch once more, whose frame was groaning with the absurd amount of weight it had to support at the moment. It, however, was not the only thing groaning. There was also the sound of Petra groaning, letting out the occasional belch every now and again, as the angel that was Laura have her stomach a thorough massage. It was only fair, that Laura do so. After all, she had stuffed poor Petra to the gills. Not that she was complaining, of course.”
“Oooh….*hic* Laura?”
Laura glanced up from the task of making her sweet bunny rabbit goddess comfortable. “Yeah, hon’?”
“What’s for breakfast tomorrow?”
And that was Petra’s life then. Laura simply fell into it one day, taking care of her sweet bunny rabbit lover. Feeding her, cleaning up the apartment so Petra didn’t have to waste precious calories exhausting herself with the rigors of every day work. As for Petra, she did what Petra did best. She ate until she couldn’t afford to eat anymore, and then she ate just a little bit more after that.
At this point, with Laura doing all the work for her, cleaning, taking care of her house work, cooking—and oh, good god, did the woman cook—Petra’s weight gain grew out of control. Soon, there were days where Petra didn’t get up at all. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. And now, here they were. A year later.
“LAAAAAAAAAAAAAURAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” Roared the irate voice of some creature mired in what must have been dire straits. “I’M STARVING OVER HERE! WHEN’S LUNCH!?”
Laura’s voice, as sweet and melodic as ever, rang from another part of their new home, the likes of which was filled with the ding of pots and pans constantly banging against one another, as they were put to the test.
“Coming, honey!”
And come she did. Laura came into a room, simple in nature. Large and spacious, and not too thoroughly adorned with any furniture of particular note. There was the matter of the king-sized beds that had been pushed together, but they weren’t too terribly important. Not as important as their occupant at any rate.
Upon those beds, sat the creature once known as Petra. Once known as Petra, for this creature shared none of that old, sweet girl’s qualities. Petra had been a lithe and lean bunny. Happy, and permanently smiling; a hero to the people, though they hardly knew it, and a champion of all the virtues that common decency upheld. This creature on the other hand, was the complete and polar opposite of that. She was a blob of pink and white fur. A row of chins spread from her face, melding with the great slabs of fat that were her chest—so suffused with fat that they nearly reached the belly button of the great beast’s stomach, which in turn was an affair so utterly fattened that it rested upon the edge of the bed, and covered up her tree-trunk legs, both of which were so utterly bloated that they had rings of fat to them, and threatened to swallow her chubby toes. No, this creature was hardly Petra. Petra never raised her voice to anyone who wasn’t down-right evil. This creature yelled constantly, and it was ever only for one thing.
Food.
Which as it just so happened, Laura was bringing with her. Soups seemed to be on today’s menu, likely because it was easier for her to feed Petra with. Smiling as she wheeled carts of soup in, she waved at her lover.
“Hey, hon’. You missed me?”
The creature formerly known as Petra wiggled her forearms, which was about as much movement as she got in these days. “You know I did, honey…but I miss your cooking more. Food? Please?”
Laura simply grinned. Wasting no time, she wheeled the soup carts up towards the bed, and set to the work of feeding Petra. Simply opening up the massive pots that held Petra’s meal, and preparing to pour them in. One supposes that was the end of it. With Laura feeding Petra, and Petra greedily eating everything that was placed before her. One supposes too, that if was that was the end of Petra’s journey, that there was a certain truth to be had in things. The end of our heroes was never nigh.
Rather, the end was thigh.
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Rabbit / Hare
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 51 kB
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