Miss Patty's Pampered Pig

"Mom, can I go over to Miss Patty's?" asked Brandon.

"Sure, sweetie," said Carol, his mother.  "I'll call and let her know you're coming.  Just be back in time for dinner, okay?"

"Yeah, sure thing mom," said Brandon.  He licked his lips, then he turned and waddled for the door.

Brandon was 12 years old.  He had pale skin and blond hair and green eyes.  He was of middling height.  But he definitely wasn't of middling weight.  Brandon was hugely fat for a young boy, a colossally obese preteen.

His pale face was soft and round, with two bloated, heavy cheeks that bulged fatly on either side of his wide mouth.  His cheeks oozed down into heavy jowls that wobbled sometimes, when he was chewing or talking, and then they met Brandon's heavy double chin, which sagged and rippled below his broad, wide jawline.

Brandon had two fat-coated arms, with heavy drooping flab that oozed over his elbows, and soft forearms totally devoid of muscle.  On his torso, his belly was massive, and stuck out in front of him as he waddled out the door.  Brandon also had enormous fat boy boobs, jiggling pecs that gave him a bigger chest than most teenage girls.  And that belly.  So fat it sagged down onto the tops of his thighs, completely covering his penis.  So fat that it stuck out in front of him, always leading the way when he entered a room.  His huge gut strained the Husky-sized t-shirt he was wearing, even though his mother had recently started buying him bigger sizes.  He had acres of heavy, oozing fat on his back, as well, making Brandon colossally round.  Looking at him from above was impressive; he had quite the girth, with a massive waistline.  He wore jeans in a very big boy's size, with an elastic waistband to give him more comfort.

He had a huge bottom, too, with enormous fat ass cheeks.  Each fat, flabby buttock bulged behind him, giving him a bit of a shelf-butt, a counterbalance to his massive belly.  The buttocks sagged onto the backs of his obese, bloated thighs, each one bigger around than a normal boy's waist.  They touched in the middle; Brandon had absolutely no thigh gap.  His thighs touching almost to his knees, which enhanced his awkward, heavy waddle.  Even his calves were fat, looking like hams.

Brandon waddled down the sidewalk, occasionally having to hike his pants up.  His mother had bought him a new wardrobe recently to accommodate his increasing size.  Brandon had always been a bit chubby as a younger kid, but his weight had exploded over the last three years... ever since Miss Patty had moved into the neighborhood.

"Oh, Brandon!"

Brandon's fat face brightened.  "Hey!"  His heavy arm jiggled as he waved it.  "Hey, Miss Patty!"

It was not a long walk to her house, though Brandon was still huffing and puffing, and sweating a bit under his pits in the warm Spring air.  Patty smiled at him from her porch.  She was a younger woman, only in her mid-20s, who worked from home as a blogger and the operator of a cooking website.  She was very pretty, with olive skin and beautiful dark hair.

She smiled as Brandon waddled up to her porch.  "There he is," she said warmly, using a tone of voice that sent thrills up Brandon's spine.  "There's my big boy."

The steps of the porch creaked as Brandon hauled himself up them.  "Did you know I'd be coming, Miss Patty?"

"I sure did, darling," said Patty.  She gently patted Brandon's huge belly.  "Are these new jeans?"

"Yep!" said Brandon proudly.  "My mom got them for me last week!"

Patty noticed that the jeans were big enough for Brandon to fasten them around his belly.  She saw the bulge of that massive gut through the fabric of the jeans and couldn't help but bite her lip.  "Well, come on in," she said, smiling at him and moving to the door of her home.  "You're just in time.  I've got a little something for you."

Brandon waddled into the house with her.  He was licking his lips; drool was wetting the corners of his mouth.  He loved eating at Miss Patty's house.  Sometimes she brought him fast food, but most of the time she just cooked for him.  And she was a really, really good cook.  His mom's food was good, but Miss Patty's food was GREAT.

They went into the dining room, Patty leading the way, Brandon waddling behind her, his immense belly entering the room before the rest of him did.  His usual place at the table was already set, and Brandon eagerly hauled himself over to it, pulling back the chair before Patty could and settling down on it.  The chair creaked a bit under his weight, and his giant bottom oozed over either side of the seat.  Patty smiled at him and went into the kitchen.  Brandon's flabby body wiggled and jiggled as he fidgeted in anticipation.

"Heeeere we go," said Patty drifting to the side of Brandon's seat.  With one hand, she gently, tenderly touched the drooping flab of Brandon's upper arm.  With the other hand, she set a plate down in front of him.  Brandon's eyes widened.  It was a massive chicken fried steak, bigger than his head, dripping and oozing with gravy.  There was also a giant mound of mashed potatoes on the plate, along with a greasy helping of green beans. "I'm doing a unit for my cooking website about Southern comfort food, and I'm trying to get the chicken fried steak recipe exactly right.  I've got two options in mind, and I need some help deciding between them.  This is the "normal" recipe.  Eat this one, then you can have the "special" recipe."

Brandon did not need any hesitation.  He picked up his fork and knife, cut a massive, gravy-loaded bite, and stuck it in his mouth.  "Mrumph," he mumbled, moaning in delight at the heavenly taste.  He ate another bite, then ate some green beans, then ate some mashed potatoes.

"And to wash it down," said Patty, coming back to his side.  She set a tall glass next to him, and poured it full to the top with Coke, pouring out of a massive one liter bottle.  Brandon grabbed the glass and took a big gulp.

"Uuurrpp," he belched low under his breath, then bit into the steak again.

Brandon ate and ate, stuffing his face, washing it down with huge swigs of soda.  He loved the taste of it.  He loved the taste of all of Miss Patty's food, so he sometimes tried to eat more slowly, to savor it.  But he was almost always too greedy, too gluttonous, to stop himself from wolfing it down.  This time was no different: in seemingly no time at all, the chicken fried steak was gone, along with all of the green beans and all of the mashed potatoes.

"What'd you think?" asked Patty, coming up to his side.

"So *BUUUURRP* good," said Brandon.

"Well, try this, then," said Patty.  She set another plate down as she took his old one away.  This plate had another chicken fried steak on it, just as massive as the previous one; it might have even been a little bigger.  And there was just as huge of a serving of both green beans and mashed potatoes on this one.  "This is my "special" recipe.  I put some cayenne pepper in the seasoning for the steak, to give it a bit of a spicy kick.  Dig in."

Brandon needed no more prompting: he picked up his fork and knife and cut another huge bite.  Patty grabbed the soda bottle and refilled his glass.  A thrill went up her spine as Brandon plowed through the second steak, just as quickly as he had eaten the first one.  As Brandon's waistline had widened, and his stomach had expanded, he was able to handle a larger amount of food in one go.  What would have been a full meal for him three years ago was now practically a snack for him.  But Patty had kept careful track of his expanding capacity, and had steadily increased his portion sizes to match the growing limits of his stomach.  These days, it was very common for Brandon to eat enough food in one sitting for two or three full-sized adults.  Sometimes more.

So it was extremely easy for Brandon to finish off this second plate, and it was cleaned almost as fast as the first one.  "BUUOOORRRRPPP!!!" he belched loudly, jowls and chins rippling as he did.  He smiled sheepishly over his shoulder at Patty.  "Excuse me," he said softly.

"No problem, darling," said Patty, pouring him more soda.  "So, which one did you like best?"

Brandon gulped his Coke down and thought.  "Hmm..." his chubby fingers patted his belly, which he often did when he was thinking of food-related things.  "They were both really, really good.  But the second one... with just that little bit of spice... I think I liked that one a little bit better.  It was more interesting."

"I thought that's what you'd say," said Patty, tenderly giving his belly a pat of her own.  "That was my suspicion, but I needed confirmation.  I knew I could trust your palette.  You could be a food critic."

Brandon smiled, a blush coming to his huge cheeks.  Patty often complimented his taste in food.  Not only was she an excellent cook, she was a creative one, and Brandon had eaten a huge variety of foods at her house.  She would cook him Italian food, Tex-Mex food, Chinese food, Thai food, even Indian food, and he loved very bite of all of it.  His parents were amazed at how his years with Patty had broadened his palate; he had a much wider appreciation for all sorts of cuisine than was normal for a twelve year old.

Brandon gulped down the last of the Coke in his glass and set his glass down.  Patty immediately refilled it.  "There's about half the bottle left, as you can see," she said, showing him the liter bottle of Coke.  "And you know the only rule at Patty's house."

Brandon smiled.  "Yep!  Whatever you give me, I have to finish it!"

"Good boy," she said, patting his shoulder.

So Brandon drank the rest of the liter bottle of Coke, and it didn't take long at all.

"BUUUUOOOOORRRRPPP!!!" he belched, deeply and loudly, actually rattling the decorative plates on the wall.

*FRT!*, came the sharp, short flatulence from between his giant butt cheeks.

He blushed.  "Oh, excuse me!  I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry, darling," said Patty, patting his belly.  "Big boys can't help it sometimes.  It just means you enjoyed your food, so it almost kind of makes me happy."

"Is there dessert?" asked Brandon, licking his lips again.

"There MIGHT be..." said Patty, giving him a secretive smile.

"Oh!  Will you make me some sundaes again?"

"Sorry, sweetie, you cleaned me out of ice cream on Monday," said Patty.  That thought caused her to bite her lip again.  On Monday she had made FOUR large sundaes for Brandon, and he had eaten all of them, polishing off an entire quart of ice cream in the process.  "But how would you like some doughnuts?"

"Yeah!  Yeah!" said Brandon excitedly, the chair creaking more loudly as his huge body fidgeted in excitement.

Patty smiled and went back to the kitchen.  She returned with a box of a dozen doughnuts, sugar glaze gleaming in the light of the dining room.  She set them in front of Brandon.  "And what goes better with doughnuts than chocolate milk?"  Brandon smiled even more broadly as she went back to the kitchen and reemerged with a gallon of chocolate milk.  She poured his glass full to the brim once again.

So Brandon greedily began to eat his dessert.  Doughnut after doughnut disappeared into his mouth, as he gulped down chocolate milk to wash the bites down.  Patty bit her lip again.  He just kept eating.

"Uff..." he huffed.  "Miss Patty?"

"Y-Yes?" she said, eyes going wide.

"My pants are hurting me, would you unbutton them?"

"Sure thing, darling," said Patty, thrills racing up her spine.  She tenderly bent down to the immense gut, so huge and fat that it was drooping off the edge of the seat.  Tenderly, gently, she felt for the warm, soft, buttery flab, drawing in a shuddering breath as her hand sank into the deep fat.  She allowed herself just a moment to enjoy the feel of the immense fat boy's belly.  Then to business: she reached for the fly of his pants and undid the button, then pulled down the zipper.

"Ahhh," sighed Brandon contentedly at the release of pressure on his belly.  He had four doughnuts to go, and the added comfort of having his pants unbuttoned allowed him to finish them.  He smiled up at Patty as she stood beside him.  "These were great!"

"I'm glad," said Patty, smiling gently at him.

"Guess I gotta finish the chocolate milk, huh?"

"Yep," said Patty.  "That's the rule."

"Welp, I don't mind," said Brandon happily, guzzling the chocolate milk in his refilled glass.  It took him about twenty five more minutes before the entire gallon had disappeared into his bottomless stomach.  "BUUUUOOOOORRRRRRPPPPPP!!!!" he belched, even louder than the big one before.

"Another satisfied customer," said Patty, beaming down at him.

Brandon grunted.  Patty saw him trying to push back, so she pulled his chair back from the table herself, marveling at how incredibly heavy he was.  Brandon slid off the chair and made a soft THUD sound when his feet hit the ground.  Patty noticed that his belly stuck out even further than it had before he'd eaten.

"I wanna watch Netflix," said Brandon.

"You bet," said Patty.  She led him into her living room, Brandon following; Brandon groaned softly under his breath at the massive amount of food in his stomach.  He waddled over to her couch and kicked off his shoes, then tenderly, slowly lowered himself onto it; the couch creaked a bit.  He laid back on the couch, eyes towards the TV as Patty handed him the remote.  Brandon loved watching Netflix and Amazon Fire at Patty's; his parents still just had cable.  He found a really cool cartoon that he'd been watching before, and he started up the episode he had stopped at on Monday.

The colorful action flashed across the screen.  Patty stood to the side and gently watched Brandon.  She knew what was coming.  Sure enough, Brandon yawned loudly.  His chubby hand rubbed his massive belly.

"Need a belly rub?" Patty asked.

"Yes please," said Brandon softly, yawning again.

Smiling tenderly, Patty knelt down beside him.  With slightly trembling fingers, she began to rub the gigantic gut.  Even with all that food in Brandon's stomach, his flab was still soft, oozing and deforming at her touch.  She rubbed his belly with practiced ease, eliciting moans of pleasure from Brandon.

And very soon: "Zzzzzzz," came the snoring, as the huge fat boy drifted off to sleep.

Taking in a shuddering breath, Patty stood up and backed away from him.  She took a moment just to marvel.  He really was getting immense.  He had to have weighed at least 300 pounds by now.  He was so wide he almost overflowed her couch as he laid on it.  She took out her phone and took a picture of him.  She had an entire file on her computer of pictures of Brandon; it had hundreds of pictures in it by now, showing the slow, but steady, transformation of him from a merely chubby boy into an extremely obese one.

Patty bit her lip.  It had all started innocently enough.  Brandon was a good, sweet kid, and he really did have a great palate.  He had stayed at her house a few times at the beginning when his parents went out to dinner; they had gotten along so well that Patty's babysitter role had gradually evolved into a family friend/caretaker role, and his parents had completely approved of it.  She had begun to feed him, also, marveling at how a young boy could have such excellent taste in food.

But as Brandon had begun to put on noticeable weight, something had stirred awake in Patty.  It thrilled her, even aroused her, to see him get fatter and fatter, to see his face grow rounder and rounder, to see his belly get bigger and bigger.  She couldn't explain it.  She didn't think she was a creep, or a pervert.  She'd never thought of herself that way.  But seeing Brandon get bigger had triggered something in her.  She wanted to see him keep getting bigger.  She wanted to see him get huge.

And by now, he had.  She did wonder what his parents thought about it.  She wondered if they even cared; the times she had met them, they had seemed very nice, but a bit slow on the uptake.  Patty had sworn to herself that if his parents ever made her stop feeding him, she would.  But they had never said anything.  So it had continued, for three years now, and so the chubby nine year old had turned into a mammoth, gigantic twelve year old.  And Patty had not been told to stop.

So why should she?

"BUURRRRPPP!!"

She smiled.  Brandon often burped and farted in his sleep, something he had done more and more of as he had gotten bigger and bigger.  But she didn't mind.  It just meant he was digesting, and all that food was turning into new pounds of fat.

About an hour later, Brandon woke up.  He had digested a bit, and his belly didn't feel so bloated and heavy.  Yawning, he hauled himself slowly to a sitting position.  He patted his belly.  He licked his lips.  He felt a bit peckish.  Being at Miss Patty's house tended to make him hungry.  He had grown so psychologically conditioned to associate her house with food that merely being within its walls filled him with an urge to eat.

Patty walked into the room.  "Oh, you're awake!" she said brightly.  She smiled a little wider.  She knew what that look on his face meant.  "Hungry?"

"Maybe a little," he said.

"Well, wait right there," she said.  She left, and reappeared shortly.  Brandon's face lit up: she had a box of ice cream sandwiches in her hand.  "I don't have ice cream for sundaes, but I do have these."  She put the box into his plump hands.  "Just eat as much or as little as you want."

Brandon licked his lips greedily.  He picked up the remote control and restarted the Netflix show; Patty had paused it when he'd fallen asleep.  And he unwrapped an ice cream sandwich, and he ate it.  He figured he'd just eat about two.  Maybe three.  Okay, maybe four.

But as Patty watched, the thing she had expected to happen had, in fact, happened: Brandon sat there for another hour and ate his way through the entire box.  He basically had no portion control, and no sense of self-control around food.  Patty had molded him into an eating machine.  And, to be fair, he had always been like this.  Even in the early days, when he was so much smaller with so much less capacity, he had been gluttonous and greedy.  He was really quite a pig.  This sometimes made Patty feel better about what she had done to him.  He would have just turned into a fat boy anyway, right?  So she didn't exactly do anything unnatural, right?

She watched him eat the last ice cream sandwich.  "Ahhh," he sighed contentedly.  He leaned back against the couch, and it creaked under his weight.  He put his hands on his belly, which really was utterly gigantic, and began to rub it softly.  "Buuurrp," he belched softly.  He was so wide he took up more than one couch cushion, his immense girth oozing onto the other two as he sat in the middle.

Okay, so maybe he'd gotten a BIT fatter under her influence than he would have otherwise.  But only a bit, right?

Her phone chirped.  She looked at it.  "Oh, darling, your mom just texted.  She wants you back now; they're getting ready for dinner and she wants you to be cleaned up in time to eat."

"Aww, okay," said Brandon, sounding disappointed.  He grunted, and started to haul himself to his feet.

"Need a hand?" asked Patty.

"That'd be nice!" he said brightly.  He stretched out his arms, upper arm fat sagging down as he did.  Patty gripped his plump wrists and pulled, as Brandon worked his extremely weak muscles.

"Oooof!" grunted Patty as, together, they got him to his feet.  His immense belly jutted in front of him and actually bumped her back.  A thrill went up her spine.  "Such a big boy," she said softly.  "You're so good, Brandon.  Such a big, good boy."  She gently, tenderly rubbed his huge gut.  A jolt went up her spine as she heard Brandon make a whining moan under his breath.

"I love coming here, Miss Patty," he said.  "You're so nice.  You're so great.  I love eating here."

"W-Well," said Patty, "you could come more often, you know."

"I don't know if my mom would let me."

"O-Oh, right, of course," she said.  "We have to do what your mom wants.  But you could ask her more often.  I'm sure she'll say no sometimes, but she might say yes more often if you ask more often."

"Yeah," he said.  He smiled.  "Yeah!  You're right.  I'll definitely ask her more often if I can come over."  He licked his lips, and his chubby hands patted his big, jutting belly.  He smacked his lips, and Patty could see drool at the edges of his mouth.  She sucked in a hissing breath.  After all that, he still wanted to eat.  And she'd done this to him.  She'd made him this.

And she loved it.

"You'd better get going," she said.  "Don't want to be late for dinner!"

"Mmm, yummy," he said, turning for the door.  His pants were still unbuttoned.  He noticed this, and tried to button them, but there was still so much food in his belly that he couldn't quite get the zipper up.  He shrugged.  "Oh well."

He waddled, actually arching his back from the heavy weight of all the food in his stomach.  He stuck his hands out to his sides to balance the weight in his gut.  Patty opened the door and let him out.  She watched him go, that huge ass bouncing and shifting, those two massive buttocks rocking and moving.  He slowly went down the steps, and waddled down the front walk.  He turned to the side, towards the direction of his house, and Patty hissed a breath at just how far in front of him his food-filled belly stuck out.

"Bye, Miss Patty!" cried Brandon, waving at her.

"Bye, Brandon!" she said.  "See you soon!"

"Yeah!  I'll be back as soon as possible!"

And with a final belch that she could hear from the porch, Brandon began to waddle home.

END