Another short WG Story I made in a couple hours, because I had the drive to make one. If you see any mistakes, please inform me.
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When you’re on top of the food chain there might be dire consequences to your figure.


You’ve seen these walls millions of times yet they’re all you know, you’ve been sheltered since a young age after all. You desire to explore this world, since a young age you’ve read amazing tales of the outside world, of the great extravagances of mother nature, of the great tales of the common man. Yet… Your frame doesn’t appear to accept your aspirations.


Wider than you are tall, your frame is the opposite of what the common folk finds desirable in a woman. With a humongous gut that slapped against your thunderous thighs as you waddled, breasts that took up a sizeable section of your vision, and an arse that could crush any queen-size bed you’re what an average person calls “a fatass.” Hell, the accessories of your body didn’t help with this stereotype, as your hands are too lardy to properly grab onto anything, your feet were as useful as a type-writer nowadays, and the face of yours being defined by an endless sea of flab, being composed of nearly five chins now.


You wanted to escape this hellscape, but it would take a miracle.


Slowly heaving yourself off the soft ground you automatically had the wind kicked out of you, not use to standing up with a frame this obese. You don’t even remember the last time you’ve stood, has it been years now? Your breath was ragged and heavy as you leaned against the wall for support, trying your hardest to even have the energy to stand at this point. After an impressive six foot waddle you fell over on the ground, that fat of yours absorbing the pain as the cold SLAP! echoed throughout the hallways.


You could hear the footprints stampede towards you.


“Princess! Are you fine?” One of your servant’s voices called out as the doors of your room slammed open, exposing your botched escape plan.


“Princess, you know you’re not supposed to get up from your seat, it’s the queen’s orders after all! If you were just hungry you could’ve just said so.” Another servant said as they effortlessly walked toward you, shoving a treat down your panting maw.


“I-ihhh.. Ii’mmmhh nnn-nnhhootttt.. hhunngreeeyy tthhoouuuughhh… Huffffff~” You desperately pleaded to deaf ears as many of your strongest men slowly but surely got you back to your seat, while also making sure their majesty didn’t go hungry for even a minute. As everyone left to grab your next feast-size meal you were back at square one.




It’s like everyone around you is under some spell, none of this made any lick of sense to you. Why is everyone so adamant on feeding a helpless young adult who’s doughy frame tears through any extravagant dresses she wears? Why don’t they even consider how unhealthy they are making you? You can’t even do most basic stuff without over exerting yourself, gasping for the air your body desperately needs.


Soon enough they came back, cart after cart being rolled in as they shoved fattening schlock after fattening schlock down your mouth. You wanted to rebel against your feeders but you knew it was a futile effort, you knew you would only get fatter from here. Which is a scary thought to you, you dream of having a lean frame, yet you were denied to have one by your mom, you were destined to become another piggy.


Speaking of you mom, you wonder what happened to her robust ass. Does she get the same treatment as you? Do they serve as many meals to her? How fat is she now? Is she a blob now? Considering that the last time you saw her she was even heftier then you are now. You were such a twig back then, you wish you knew what was lurking around the corner, you wish you found & left with your own Romeo.


Yet, here you are today. A parody of your former self due to the pampering you’ve received.