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Lazybuns by TrebleCleffy

wg_archivist Jan 18th, 2019 140 Never
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  1. [fetish tags in description]
  2.  
  3. Amelia lay on the couch in her PJ shorts and t-shirt browsing YouTube on her phone. For an hour she had been starting videos, stopping them midway as she got bored and moving onto the next. She thought about taking a nap or eating a snack, but another video piqued her mild interest. Sighing pleasantly, she adjusted her thick-rimmed glasses and started it. She had all the time in the world.
  4.  
  5. Two months ago, Amelia worked in a consumer electronics shop. She had no interest in consumer electronics, or in customer service, or in earning an honest paycheck. An ordinary day at work found Amelia stooped over the store counter, head propped in her hands, her face dim and sleepy. When patrons brought items to the checkout counter, she greeted them with a bratty frown. One day, she was so phased out she scanned a customer’s card twice and neglected to tell him he had two purchases for the same item on his credit.
  6.  
  7. “Do you have a cord like this?” said a customer on another day, showing her a generic, five-millimeter circular jack of which the store had plenty.
  8.  
  9. “Probably not,” she said. “And I’m kinda tired today so I probably won’t find it if I looked. You should come back tomorrow. Or go to another store, maybe.”
  10.  
  11. Since getting fired, Amelia spent her time browsing the web, watching pirated TV shows, snacking on pretzels, playing video games, masturbating and eating takeout. Sometimes she would lie on the couch and just stare out the window for a very long time. Every week, she told her boyfriend Connor she would look for a job. Every day, she had an excuse not to; she was tired, she couldn’t find anything on Craigslist, she wasn’t feeling well, she was waiting on an old co-worker to get back to her about being a reference.
  12.  
  13. Even household chores were becoming too much for Amelia. She re-wore clothes several days to avoid doing laundry. The recycle bin in the kitchen overflowed with bottles, boxes and cans with extras piled up on the floor around it. The garbage bin was packed solid with two weeks of trash. Even showers were getting to be a bother for Amelia nowadays, with all the standing and scrubbing. Lately, she met her hygiene requirements in the bath. It was another excuse to lie down and play with her phone, but even better because she could do it soaking in cozy warm water. It was often the high point of her day.
  14.  
  15. Over the weeks, Amelia slept more and moved less. She added fifteen pounds to her tall, narrow frame. As a teen, the weight gain might have troubled her, but now, it didn’t seem that big a deal.
  16.  
  17. Connor dutifully shouldered their expenses. His pay covered rent, food, and utilities, and he sustained Amelia without complaint.
  18.  
  19. Things were working out well for Amelia, but she knew it wouldn’t last. With dread, she anticipated the day it would all come to an end. Connor didn’t mind being the sole breadwinner so long as Amelia was supposedly on her way to finding a job. Sooner or later, he would figure out his girlfriend was just a big, lazy ass, quite willing to live off his paychecks forever. The inevitable break-up would be painful. It would also leave Amelia without a home. She’d have to move back in with her folks, or something.
  20.  
  21. The doorbell rang. Amelia groaned. She really really didn’t want to answer. She wished Connor were home so he could do it.
  22.  
  23. The bell rang again. “Go ‘way,” muttered Amelia, frowning at the door, but as she did so, Amelia realized she was being watched. In the corner of the window next to the door was a green eye peeping into the apartment. A little pigtail dangled above the eye. The eye saw Amelia. It drew back behind the door and the bell rang again, followed by vigorous knocking.
  24.  
  25. Amelia had been found out. She set her feet on the floor, heaved her lazy bones to an upright position and stood. She hadn’t done a lot of standing today.
  26.  
  27. Amelia made her way across the living room and opened the door, blinking in the sunlight. On the stoop was a round-cheeked Girl Scout wearing a backpack. The Scout’s eyes were a brilliant forest green; her pigtails were a brown reminiscent of wet tree bark. She wore a skirt and a white polo shirt. Her big green sash had a few Scout patches sewn on.
  28.  
  29. “Hello, misses!” the scout practically sang, giving Amelia a big, big smile.
  30.  
  31. “Hey,” said Amelia flatly. “Are you selling cookies?”
  32.  
  33. The Scout enthusiastically presented a clipboard with a stack of paper attached. “I’m selling cookie subscriptions. It’s a fundraiser to make wishes come true. If you sign up, I deliver cookies to you every week for six weeks!” The Scout put exclamatory emphasis on six weeks. “And you can get your first box for free. Aaaaannnd, you get a prize at the end!”
  34.  
  35. Hmmm, cookies. Amelia had been craving a snack. She could save herself a trip to the kitchen. “How much?”
  36.  
  37. “Thirty dollars.”
  38.  
  39. “For six weeks?”
  40.  
  41. “Yep!”
  42.  
  43. “Huh. Just a minute.” She took her wallet from the mantle beside the doorway and drew a twenty and a ten from it.
  44.  
  45. “Here you go.”
  46.  
  47. “Yay!” said the Scout. She flipped up the top page of her clipboard, drawing out a carbon paper form from beneath. Clipping it to the top, she took down Amelia’s name and address. “Okay Misses Amelia, you sign here at the bottom and I give you your first box.”
  48.  
  49. Strange. How did the scout know Amelia’s name? Oh, who cared. As Amelia signed, the Scout took off her backpack, set it on the stoop by her knees and dug around inside. She pulled out a long, plastic-wrapped cookie box and handed it to Amelia. “Here ya go!” she chirped.
  50.  
  51. “Thanks,” said Amelia, handing back the clipboard.
  52.  
  53. The Scout lifted the top page of the carbon paper and tore off the yellow copy underneath. She hoisted on the backpack and handed the yellow copy to Amelia, grinning like sunshine. “Here’s your receipt. See you next week. Have a good day!”
  54.  
  55. “Yeah, you too,” said Amelia.
  56.  
  57. As the Scout started down the path from the apartment complex, she stopped and looked back. “Don’t worry,” she said. “He’ll love your lazy bum. You just need to feed it the right kind of food.” She grinned at Amelia and headed off down the sidewalk.
  58.  
  59. Amelia stood in the doorway for a moment, perplexed. What did that mean? Who was that girl? Where did she get those unnaturally green eyes? Were girls wearing contacts that young these days?
  60.  
  61. She took a glance at the receipt. Something was written on the page in very tiny lettering, just above her signature:
  62.  
  63. I hereby pledge my soul to unholy Sathanas, the fallen angel who, unblessed in his eternal spite has shown us the path of corporeal reckoning. I beg the beast’s generous reward, for I am his faithful servant and follow no star but his.
  64.  
  65. Was this someone’s idea of a joke? Amelia could have sworn that wasn’t written on the top page. Oh well. Probably the work of some bored intern at Scout headquarters or wherever, screwing with official paperwork just for kicks.
  66.  
  67. Amelia flopped back onto the couch and examined the cookie box. The cookies were thin mints, but heart-shaped rather than round. Amelia removed the plastic, opened the box and took out a plastic-wrapped stack of cookies. There were twenty total.
  68.  
  69. Amelia opened the plastic, munched up two cookies and then, wondering for a moment if she should save the rest for later, gobbled up a third.
  70.  
  71. Amelia thought about surfing more YouTube but videos were getting old. Video games sounded more appealing. She started up Connor’s console.
  72.  
  73. Forty minutes of Mario Kart went by. Every now and then Amelia ate another cookie, sometimes going in for seconds to soothe her frustration when she came in 3rd or 4th place. As her thumbs worked the controller, her mind wandered. If only she could drive a real car with buttons and a joystick, watching the action on her television screen. With her fingers guiding her avatar body, she would buy groceries, run errands, and mow the lawn, so long as she could do it from inside her home where she would sit on her bottom and eat cookies all day.
  74.  
  75. Amelia paused the game and shifted her seat on the floor. The seams of her panties had been rubbing against her thighs and her pajama shorts felt a little snug. Amelia glanced down at her splayed legs. Her brow furrowed. Gosh, her legs were looking fat these days. Her thighs used to swim in pajama shorts. They had swollen up and even her calves were looking a little round. At least her ankles were still nice and trim. She checked her arms and hands. Still long and svelte there. It was just her chunky thighs.
  76.  
  77. Amelia climbed to her feet to untwist her shorts. As her body unfolded to a stand and her seat unflexed, her panties sank into her butt, deep between her cheeks. In fact, she could feel the lower ends of her cheeks just touch each other over the panties. “Ouch,” said Amelia. The elastic was tight and abrasive over her hips and around her thighs. The pajama shorts yanked at her crotch.
  78.  
  79. Amelia sat on the couch. As her glutes flexed again and the panties strained, cotton threads began to snap. Not good. Nor did sitting quite cure her wedgie. “What the hell…” Amelia glanced at her hips, which went out a bit further than seemed normal. Shit.
  80.  
  81. Amelia had to find something else to wear. She grabbed the open box of cookies and went up the hall to her room. With every step, her underwear nipped into her pelvis and thighs. Amelia fished out another cookie and munched it on her way. As she chewed and swallowed her panties, it seemed, sank deeper between her cheeks, stretching thinner and growing more abrasive over her crotch. Jeez, what gives? It’s like I’m getting fatter by the minute…
  82.  
  83. In her room, Amelia slipped off her panties and pajama bottoms. They caught momentarily around her hips.
  84.  
  85. Amelia lifted her shirt, held it with her chin and checked herself. These were some wide hips and she really didn’t recognize her thighs. She tried wrapping her long fingers around one thigh and found a good deal of extra circumference. She reached behind her. It used to be she could clutch most of one buttock in a handful, but now, a handful seemed a sizable wad of a greater quantity…
  86.  
  87. She snatched the box of cookies and munched on another one as she craned her neck back to look down her backside. There was definitely some booty sticking out back there. How had Amelia not noticed until now?
  88.  
  89. Actually, this was a LOT of booty, and a very round booty too. She placed her hands on her widened hips. Her flanks reached past the sides of her shirt. She was looking pretty pear-shaped these days. Also, the line where her bottom gave way to her thighs seemed lower and set more deeply beneath mounds of meaty butt cheek.
  90.  
  91. Amelia tried on a clean pair of panties – her last one available. Ouch. Same stretch, same wedgie, same everything. She took them off. Clearly she needed underwear a size bigger…if not two.
  92.  
  93. Maybe she needed to measure herself, but that seemed like work. Amelia considered it as she sat on the bed and ate another cookie. The cool duvet felt nice against her bottom. Being naked felt nice.
  94.  
  95. Amelia yawned. It was getting close to two and she usually napped around this time. Also, finding clothes was kind of a bother right now. She could do it later. She tossed off her shirt and fell back naked on the unmade bed. Amelia snuggled against her pillow and removed the plastic wrapped cookies from the box. Six cookies left; what a pig; what a fat ass. She ate another. And another. By the third, Amelia could have sworn she felt her bottom creeping along the duvet, mooshing into it. She felt around beneath herself. Gosh there was a lot ass down here. Where did it all come from?
  96.  
  97. It was almost as if…
  98.  
  99. Amelia glanced at the package of cookies. No, that was silly. It was just from eating poorly and no exercise. Big butts tend to come of that. Amelia yawned again. She set the cookies on her nightstand and slipped under the duvet. The linens felt nice over her naked back, her perky C cup boobs, her portly rump. Amelia turned on her side and faded fast.
  100.  
  101.  
  102.  
  103. It was late afternoon when Amelia woke. She blinked, spotted the three plastic wrapped cookies on the nightstand and immediately wanted one.
  104.  
  105. She sat up. Gosh. There was quite a bit of squishiness under her. She tested her backside with her finger and found a thick cushion of booty flesh. Huh. It certainly was comfortable to sit on. And sitting was one of Amelia’s favorite things to do. Maybe she could get used to this natural upholstery.
  106.  
  107. She took another cookie from the plastic and munched on it. As before, she felt her buttocks surge ever so slightly into the mattress. Her hips were looking even bigger. She pinched her flank and found more rounded flesh there than she remembered from even from a couple hours earlier.
  108.  
  109. Wait, thought Amelia. The Girl Scout said something about feeding her bum the right food. But cookies don’t make your butt grow, or at least not right on the spot.
  110.  
  111. On the other hand, she had a reason to eat the last two cookies now. Just to be sure.
  112.  
  113. Amelia took the penultimate cookie and bit off a small piece of it. She thought she detected a subtle twinge of movement in her butt and thighs but it was hard to be sure. She popped the rest in her mouth and chewed it while clutching her butt cheek in her hand. On her swallow, flesh surged between her fingers, rewarding her with a plushier handful of ass. Amelia felt her butt cheeks swelling out further behind her, her thighs fattening, her calves filling. Everywhere down there, she was thicker, fleshier.
  114.  
  115. It was real. The cookies had fattened Amelia’s ass, each one puffing out her pear shape. Her butt used to be slight and flat with only a modest flare of the hips to give it some character. Now, she was grabbing handfuls of ass. Her bottom bubbled out behind her, getting increasingly round, rotund and squishy. Her thighs had never been so thick and full.
  116.  
  117. How? Why? What had she done to deserve such a big butt? Who was that Girl Scout, the little cretin?
  118.  
  119. The weirdest thing was her butt wasn’t just fat, but ripe. True badonkadonk-grade real estate down there. Amelia thought a butt like this required daily glute workouts at the gym but these cookies hadn’t just added pounds to her backside, they had actually plumped her rump up to high-balanced juiciness.
  120.  
  121. So then: dare she eat the last cookie? She took it out of the plastic and examined it. It just looked like a heart-shaped Girl Scout cookie. Nothing too special about it…
  122.  
  123. Amelia’s pondering was interrupted by the sound of a key fitting into the front door. Connor. Shit, what time was it?
  124.  
  125. Amelia panicked. Connor would catch her naked in the bedroom and it would be crystal clear she hadn’t done anything today. No chores, no job searches. She hadn’t even taken her customary bath. At least when she was bathed, out in the living room and in her clothes she could give the impression she’d done something that day. This time, Connor would catch her off guard, sitting in bed like she’d never left, like the lazy couch potato she was.
  126.  
  127. Amelia stuck the cookie between her teeth so she could use her hands. She leapt out of bed as she heard the front door swing open in the living room. At least get into clothes, she thought. At least show him you still dress yourself. He can’t know how little I’m actually doing…he’ll leave me…he’ll kick me out. I’ll lose everything!
  128.  
  129. Amelia grabbed the clean panties she’d tried on earlier and wrenched them up over her bottom. They sank into her fat butt cheeks, splitting them into sections. Ouch.
  130.  
  131. “Amelia?” came Connor’s voice in the living room.
  132.  
  133. “Uh…j-just a minute!” she yelled back. Amelia snatched a mostly clean pair of jeans from the dresser. She stuffed her legs into them, squeezing her meaty calves through the ankles. It wasn’t easy but she got her feet through. She pulled the pants up and…and…no…NO…
  134.  
  135. Amelia yanked at the jeans, trying to get another inch or two. Her thighs were stuffed skintight into the legs. Her ass just wouldn’t go in. Even when the jeans were unzipped, her sumptuous cheeks just bulged over the waistline. She was too wide, too fat to stuff herself into them.
  136.  
  137. Shit…what am I gonna do???
  138.  
  139.  
  140. Amelia1 by TrebleCleffy
  141.  
  142.  
  143. The bedroom doorknob turned and clicked. Amelia was caught. Caught with a…cookie in her mouth? Mechanically, Amelia slid the cookie onto her tongue and munched it. She needed her mouth free so she could try to explain herself.
  144.  
  145. The door swung open. Connor was there in his gray pants and blue button up. Amelia stood there, topless, trying to moosh herself into a pair of jeans, chewing on a cookie, staring at him guiltily.
  146.  
  147. “Hey,” said Connor.
  148.  
  149. “Hrgh,” she said through a mouthful of cookie.
  150.  
  151. “Um…what’s going on? What’re you eating?” said Connor, stepping into the bedroom.
  152.  
  153. “Nrthrng,” she said.
  154.  
  155. Connor’s eyes drew down to Amelia’s hips. Wanting to explain, Amelia gulped down the cookie reflexively. Shit. What’ve I done? She thought, and braced herself.
  156.  
  157. Her posterior fattened again, her butt cheeks puffing out, fighting the tautness of her panties as her wedgie deepened. Her hips flowered out; her thighs plumped; her ill-fitting jeans slid another inch down her legs.
  158.  
  159. The panties gave. They ripped down the front, exposing Amelia. A severed shred of panty fell limply at her groin. The undergarment remained stuck between her fat cheeks, squishing lightly together purely by virtue of rump’s newfound puffiness.
  160.  
  161. Connor’s face was dumb with incomprehension. He clearly wasn’t sure what he was seeing.
  162.  
  163. “I…um,” said Amelia. “I guess I’ve…gained some weight. My clothes aren’t really fitting now…”
  164.  
  165. “…oh,” said Connor. “You just…broke your panties.”
  166.  
  167. “Yeah...”
  168.  
  169. They stared each other down in silence. Finally, Connor spoke. “Y-you look good…actually.”
  170.  
  171. What? she thought, good?
  172.  
  173. Connor said, “when did you get so…so…”
  174.  
  175. Amelia looked down at herself, at the blossom of her exposed hips. “Uh…um, wide?” she said.
  176.  
  177. “Well, yeah…I never noticed that before…”
  178.  
  179. Amelia opened her mouth to explain about the cookies, but as she did, she found herself talking about something else. “Connor…I haven’t looked for a job at all.”
  180.  
  181. “Huh?”
  182.  
  183. “All these weeks, I haven’t done…jack shit.”
  184.  
  185. “Wha…but…why? What’s—
  186.  
  187. “Because, I don’t want to, Connor. I’m so lazy. All I’ve done is sit around and played video games and browsed the web and ate snacks and let my butt get really, really big. Look!!”
  188.  
  189. She yanked the panties from between her cheeks and turned around, showing Connor her great ripe, round, juicy bottom.
  190.  
  191. “Woah! What the—”
  192.  
  193. “It’s gotten so big, Connor! I don’t know how I can handle it! I don’t even fit in my underwear now! My butt is enormous!!”
  194.  
  195.  “It’s huge!”
  196.  
  197. “Yes it is!”
  198.  
  199. “What did you do?!”
  200.  
  201. “Nothing! I haven’t done anything in days! Just sat on this big, fat ass while you worked to pay our rent and our bills and put food on the table!” Amelia threw herself over the foot of the bed, sticking out her beefy, round caboose. “I’m such a bad, awful girl, Connor! Teach me! Teach me a lesson!!”
  202.  
  203. Connor had his shirt off in seconds. He took a breath as he came up behind Amelia, clenching his fists and flexing his biceps. “You’re gonna get it,” he muttered.
  204.  
  205. “Give it to me! NOW!”
  206.  
  207. He struck her fat, ripe melon of an ass cheek.
  208.  
  209. “Ugh!” cried Amelia. “Again!”
  210.  
  211. He struck the other cheek. Amelia’s whole backside quivered.
  212.  
  213. “Where’d you get this huge butt?”
  214.  
  215. “It’s what I deserve for being a lazy, wasteful bum. Every day!”
  216.  
  217. He struck Amelia again.
  218.  
  219. She squealed. “I can’t believe how big it’s gotten. Just look at it! Oh Connor, I’m such a—
  220.  
  221. Smack!
  222.  
  223. “…fat ass and a—
  224.  
  225. Smack!
  226.  
  227. “fucking freeloader!”
  228.  
  229. Smack!
  230.  
  231. Connor undid his belt and dropped his pants to the floor. Within seconds, he was inside Amelia. She was moist and twitching around him.
  232.  
  233. “Yeah. Yeeaah, Connor. Oh god…” Amelia’s round bottom jiggled ecstatically to his thrusts. Her legs felt weak. She cried out, pounding the bed with her fists. The feeling was so intense her eyes teared up. “Ohhhh…oh yes…”
  234.  
  235. Twenty minutes later they lay together under the covers. Connor was spent from his workday and their vigorous fucking. He had dropped fast to sleep. Amelia laid on her side, her heart-shaped booty resting against Connor. She bit her lower lip excitedly, trying to suppress an ecstatic giggle.
  236.  
  237.  
  238.  
  239. Five Weeks Later
  240.  
  241. Amelia lay on her belly in the living room, propped up cobra-like on her elbows with the controller. She leisurely kicked her feet to and fro behind her. Amelia’s underwear was getting too small again. For two weeks she’d been stuck in these ugly granny panties. The outside quadrants of her fat cheeks were wiggling out of the leg openings. Once again, her massive butt was devouring her underwear. It was hopeless. At least she'd restricted her life to the apartment so she hadn’t needed to blow money on jeans or skirts, which would have become useless soon anyway.
  242.  
  243. Amelia heard a noise and glanced over her right shoulder. It was the horny tween from down the street ogling her again through the side window, his mouth agape, pupils gazing almost cross-eyed at her bounteous bottom. Little perv. Amelia raised her middle finger. The kid made himself scarce—‘til next time, of course. Amelia could have just kept the blinds closed but she liked the natural light. And really, what great inconvenience was it to her the twerp liked looking at her butt?
  244.  
  245. The doorbell rang. Amelia’s heart skipped. She paused her game and lifted herself to her knees. It was time.
  246.  
  247. Amelia rose and winced as the granny panties sank deeper into the chasm between her butt cheeks. It wouldn’t have been as bad if her buns weren’t so round; there was a lot of smooth curvature there for elastic to slide on. With both hands, Amelia took the panties by the seams and pulled them out from her cheeks. She let go and they snapped against her bottom. Her cheeks rolled out beneath the seams, puckering against her broad thighs. Well, there sure was more Amelia down there than there used to be.
  248.  
  249. Amelia walked, savoring the still peculiar feeling of four inches of rump waddling behind her. In the first few weeks, she bobbled, her butt cheeks quivering excitedly with each step, the quivers reverberating around to her thighs. As her butt grew bigger, it behaved more forcefully and purposefully. Now, the abundant weight of her massive cheeks dropped sharply as her feet hit the floor and bounced up again. They sometimes whacked together in mid-movement, making a clapping sound that was a little startling. Thunderbum, she christened it.
  250.  
  251. As she walked, her panties sank again between her wobbling cheeks, sliding in deeper with every step.  Amelia yanked them out as she opened the door.
  252.  
  253. It was not the green-eyed Scout who stood at the front step. “Uh…um, hi there!” said someone new.
  254.  
  255. “Hi, said Amelia. This new Scout was taller, slimmer than her round-cheeked predecessor. She was blond with cool eyes, glasses and a gap between her teeth. She didn’t smile.
  256.  
  257. Amelia, standing in the doorway in just her underwear and a t-shirt, had clearly made the girl uneasy. “It’s uhh…usually another girl who brings me cookies,” Amelia said.
  258.  
  259. “Marazel is sick today, so I’m doing her route for her,” said the little blonde Scout, muttering it almost inaudibly. She was so shy.
  260.  
  261. Marazel, as her name apparently was, was missing her last delivery to Amelia. There would be no more cookies after this. It was like a good friend stood her up.
  262.  
  263. The blonde Scout went on gaping. Marazel never did that. Marazel was always happy to see Amelia standing in the door in her undies, wider and rounder in the hips than she was the last week. Wow, you’re big now! She would say, and Amelia would giggle with self-conscious pride.
  264.  
  265. Amelia was uncomfortable this time. She was suddenly aware of her unusual body, of how disproportionately wide her hips were.
  266.  
  267. The Scout stammered. She had forgotten her line.
  268.  
  269. “Yeah, I know, I’m a lady with a big butt,” interjected Amelia, trying to lighten the mood. “But hey, at least I’m not wasting any space! Ha ha.” It was a joke Amelia lately had repeated to herself: at least I’m not wasting any space. When she wedged herself into Connor’s desk chair to use the laptop; when she had to squeeze herself into the narrow clothes closet; when she filled the tub with hot water, dropped in and sent it cascading over the sides. Space was the one thing Amelia could be sure she didn’t waste.
  270.  
  271. But the little blonde Scout didn’t laugh. The awkward moment just lingered, growing more pronounced with passing seconds.
  272.  
  273. “Um,” the blonde Scout said. She took off her backpack and rummaged around in it nervously. She drew out a cookie box and handed it to Amelia. Then, she remembered one of her lines: “don’t let them stay out in the sun,” she said mechanically. “They’ll melt and taste yucky.”
  274.  
  275. “Right,” said Amelia. Amelia slipped the cookie box behind her right buttock where there was plenty of shade.
  276.  
  277. Amelia was eager for this strained interaction to end, but she had an important question to ask. “So, um…I was wondering…can I—is it possible to…renew my subscription?”
  278.  
  279. “Um…it’s the end,” said the blonde Scout, “your subscription is over.”
  280.  
  281. “Well, what about next year?”
  282.  
  283. A voice came hollering from the sidewalk. “Libby! We have to move on to the next house!”
  284.  
  285. Amelia glanced across the yard of the complex. It was a mom, also thin, also blonde, accompanying her daughter in a strange neighborhood as she went around making her cookie deliveries. The mom was giving Amelia a dirty, disgusted look; clearly not happy to see a weird, wide-ass lady talking to her daughter in her underwear.
  286.  
  287. “Well,” said Amelia. “I-I guess you’d better go.”
  288.  
  289. “Bye,” said the blonde Scout, already turning tail to rejoin her mom.
  290.  
  291. Amelia shut the door. She felt dirty and demoralized. Stupid mom. Stupid girl.
  292.  
  293. She clutched the cookies close to her chest and told her pumping heart to slow. Forget about them, she told herself. You’ve got a brand spanking new box of cookies.
  294.  
  295. She wasn’t dirty. She was lovely. And Connor thought so too.
  296.  
  297. But Connor still didn’t get it. Even yesterday, at dinner, he said, hey, y’know, there’s this new HR position opening up at my work. You should apply. You’d be perfect for it!
  298.  
  299. Oh, Connor. The big dummy didn’t understand. Amelia was meant to be a butt on a couch. Her future wasn’t in HR. Lazy was her life! This was how it was supposed to be.
  300.  
  301. Amelia had lately come to feel her gigantic butt was a reward for leading the life she was always meant to have. And, it wasn’t rewarding just because Connor couldn’t keep his hands off her, or because they’d never had so much sex, or because Amelia liked seeing her sexy hindquarters in the mirror. It was reducible to no single fact. It was identity, pure and simple.
  302.  
  303. Amelia gleefully tore into the box. But something was different. These cookies weren’t heart-shaped but round, like any ordinary Girl Scout cookie. Where were the hearts?
  304.  
  305. Oh, whatever. Amelia munched the first cookie, savoring the minty crumble. She swallowed, waited a few seconds…and felt nothing. Maybe she missed the growth. She ate another cookie, then another, keeping her eyes glued to her hips to catch some sign of widening. Nothing. No stretching of her panties or deepening of her crack, no extra meat on her thighs. How? She ate three more in quick succession, though the savor on her tongue was waning.
  306.  
  307. Okay, where’s the growth? Where’s the ass I was promised? Amelia looked down behind her and made a face. Were the new changes too subtle to notice? It hadn’t used to be like that…
  308.  
  309. She marched over to the couch, turned and dropped her derriere on the middle cushion. As she hit it, the couch slid back a couple inches. Reaching into the cookie box, Amelia closed her eyes, clenched her buttocks and pressed her thighs together, telling herself she would feel it this time. Her butt cheeks swelling out, her panties digging into her hips. She was just missing it this time because she was too excited.
  310.  
  311. She ate the next cookie. Nothing. Another, and another. Nothing.
  312.  
  313. Fuck. Had she been cheated?
  314.  
  315. She got up from the couch and went to the bedroom, her butt cheeks waggling, jiggling and clapping together with the teeter of her great hips.
  316.  
  317. In the bedroom, Amelia dug through her dresser drawer where she stored tights and underwear and miscellaneous things. She found her measuring tape and wrapped it around her hips, checking the reading. Sixty inches. Holding the tape in place with one hand, she drew out a cookie with the other and munched it, swallowing. Nothing, no spread of her hips, no fattening of her bottom, no expansion against the tape. Stuck at sixty inches. How could this be?
  318.  
  319. Amelia ate three more cookies. Nothing at all. They were useless.
  320.  
  321. She felt like kicking something. If only Marazel had brought her the heart-shaped cookies. What could Amelia do though? Call Girl Scout headquarters and complain the cookies hadn’t made her butt bigger? Whoever Marazel was, she was no ordinary Scout; surely her cookies weren’t ordinary cookies.
  322.  
  323. This ass wasn’t going to cut it. Amelia could still fit into plus size panties and ride on the bus and sit in an office chair and clear a doorway and do all the things normal people were expected to do. Normal wasn’t enough.
  324.  
  325. With her great, whopping buns growing bigger each week, Connor was too thunderstruck to put much mind into making requests of Amelia. She never told him about the cookies, coyly passing her progressive rear growth off as a result of poor eating and lack of exercise. Best not to admit premeditated culpability.
  326.  
  327. But Amelia needed to do better than spellbind Connor. She needed to convince him that this – her sitting home all day on the fat ass he so loved to play with – was the best possible situation for both of them. She needed Connor to believe her gigantic butt was a gift, a precondition even, for spoiling her. This was honestly what Amelia believed herself. Though she had no proof, she was convinced that if she got a job, started covering expenses and pulling her own weight around the apartment again, her booty would shrink right back to normal.
  328.  
  329. On the other hand, if she could just eat the cookies and get big enough, she would reach a point when Connor would shut up about jobs. She would be too wide and massively-mooned to expect much of her. Then, Connor would love and accept her just as she was: lazy and shameless, sure, and a not entirely dependable partner, but also Connor’s giant-reared sexy bunny, suited for play if not for work. But she needed to be bigger to hit that threshold. Maybe just a little bigger would do it – she was pushing the limits of anatomically plausible already…but bigger still! She was too small.
  330.  
  331. Tears welled up in Amelia’s eyes as she thought about the whole thing. She ate the cookies, one after another, desperate for something, anything. Her stomach turned in protest now but Amelia went on eating until the last cookie was in her mouth. She angrily tossed the box into the hallway and flopped over on the bed, the bed springs groaning beneath her.
  332.  
  333. It was hopeless. This was the end. Had it ever even begun? Was it just a dream?
  334.  
  335. Her eyes bleary, Amelia tossed her glasses on the nightstand and crawled beneath the covers. The blissfully lazy life she had enjoyed for over three months would come to an end. Maybe it was inevitable. She sobbed, soaking her pillow with tears. When her eyes dried, she drifted to sleep rubbing her thick thighs together to soothe herself.
  336.  
  337. Amelia awoke to the caress of a hand on her head. “Hey doll,” Connor said. Amelia squinted. She grabbed her glasses from the nightstand. Connor kissed her.
  338.  
  339. Amelia tried to smile but she had a tear in her eye. Her face melted and she began to sob.
  340.  
  341. “Hey hey, what’s wrong?” said Connor.
  342.  
  343. “It’s…it’s nothing. I just…”
  344.  
  345. Connor took Amelia in his arms. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’ll be okay. Hey, let’s make dinner, alright? I got us groceries. We’ll throw some potatoes in the oven and cook up some asparagus. How does that sound?”
  346.  
  347. “Al-alright…”
  348.  
  349. “Let’s get you out of bed, okay?”
  350.  
  351. Amelia and Connor stepped into the hallway. “By the way, what’s the deal with this?” said Connor, pointing out the empty cookie box.
  352.  
  353. Amelia squatted down and picked it up. “Oh…it’s cookies I got today. Girl Scout mints. I…um, ate the whole box.”
  354.  
  355. “In one day?”
  356.  
  357. “Yeah. Gross huh?”
  358.  
  359. “Super gross.”
  360.  
  361. Amelia sat on the dining room chair, her prodigious thighs billowing over the sides. She gazed at the empty cookie box in front of her and rested her chin in her hands. Connor got asparagus out of the fridge and started cutting it up.
  362.  
  363. After some meal preparation, Connor took a seat at the dining table opposite Amelia. His biceps bulged through his short sleeves.
  364.  
  365. He examined the cookie box. “Have I seen these boxes around?”
  366.  
  367. “I’ve been getting them for a few weeks,” said Amelia.
  368.  
  369. “Didn’t share even one with me,” said Connor.
  370.  
  371. “Sorry. I uh…kinda like them.”
  372.  
  373. Connor turned the box in his hands. Something fell from the open end, a little folded slip of paper.
  374.  
  375. “What’s this?” said Connor.
  376.  
  377. “Uh…” said Amelia, surprised.
  378.  
  379. Connor unfolded the paper. Something was written on it. He read:
  380.  
  381.  
  382.  
  383. Amelia,
  384.  
  385. Sorry I wasn’t there today. I had other stuff to do. But you still get your PRIZE. Your bounty, granted by the Lord of Sloth and Idleness is yours by the power vested in me. Enjoy!
  386.  
  387. - Marazel
  388.  
  389.  
  390.  
  391. “Um…what does that mean?” said Connor.
  392.  
  393. But Amelia didn’t answer, because just as he had uttered Marazel’s name, a tiny flame ignited in a corner of the little paper slip. The flame swiftly ate the note, a little plume of smoke rising from the receding corner. Amelia stammered. She wanted to warn Connor, but words wouldn’t come out.
  394.  
  395. “What?” said Connor, who hadn’t noticed the flame in his hand. “Ow!” he cried, dropping the burning, half disintegrated note on the table. He shook his singed finger. The flame gobbled up the rest of the paper. In a final puff of smoke, it was gone without so much as an ash left behind.
  396.  
  397. Instantly, Amelia’s thighs smooshed into each other. The seams around the leg holes of her granny panties strained and sank into her billowing leg flesh. Amelia looked down and gasped as she saw the padding of her fleshy lap grow thicker.
  398.  
  399. “Oh my god,” she said.
  400.  
  401. Her hips blossomed, shaping a wider and fuller frame on which to stack a growing mountain of tush-meat. Amelia’s bubbling cheeks spilled out through her poor panties, surging into the wooden spindles of the chair. Deeper and deeper, Amelia’s panties sank between her fattening cheeks.
  402.  
  403. “Huh? What’s wrong?” said Connor peevishly as he sucked his roasted digit, as yet unaware of Amelia’s situation.
  404.  
  405. “It’s my…my…ohhhhhh…” Her buttocks distended into ever more cartoonish globes, stretching her underwear to near transparency. Along the upper slopes of Amelia’s hips her panties drew deep into her burgeoning flesh. The pain was profound. How could a little garment of spandex and polyester hurt so much? Amelia stood to take it off but her juicy thighs jabbed the edge of the table. She fell back to her chair, landing her super fat tush only part way on the seat. And toppled over. Amelia hit the floor sideways, her arms and cushiony left hip taking the brunt of the impact.
  406.  
  407. “Ow!”
  408.  
  409. “Woah, what the…” said Connor, beholding his girlfriend’s massive hip and right buttock as she lay sprawled on the floor. Amelia was sporting true earth globes on her backside. Her thighs were thick as office waste bins, and thickening still. Her panties were like netting, trying in vain to hold in the overwhelming quantity of ass, leg and hip that bulged around it.
  410.  
  411. Amelia crawled from the table, feeling the wobbly weight of unfamiliarly huge buttocks suspended above her tailbone. The waistband of her panties dug deep into her swelling hips and the ballooning of her rump pulled the band in the opposite direction. Her panties were like a G-string, with the lower hemispheres of Amelia’s butt cheeks attempting to swallow them whole. Even with her knees spaced well apart, her thighs nearly met in the middle.
  412.  
  413. Connor gazed, stunned at the great, swollen heart shape that was Amelia’s backside, bobbling and bulging as she crawled across the kitchen floor. “Wh-what’s happening to you?” he managed.
  414.  
  415. Amelia looked over at Connor’s dumb, entranced face. Slowly, she lifted herself to her feet, trying to balance tremendous width and backwards projection on her little ankles. Her massive buttocks, rather than sagging or drooping, seemed, if anything, lifted higher than ever on the support of her tree trunk thighs. A sloped shelf was building up around Amelia, curving around her tailbone. Above her booty shelf, Amelia’s upper body arched up from a still narrow waist like half a centaur.
  416.  
  417. Amelia passed her fingertips around her hips over to her backside where she tested her depth. The panties clung around Amelia’s swelling lower body, flesh bulging around them on all sides. It was too late now for Amelia to slide them down over her hips. They were out of slack. Only one way for them to go.
  418.  
  419. The blinds were still up and Amelia was about to burst out of her underwear. She made for the hall and was quickly slowed by the doorway. Yes indeed, she was now too wide to pass swiftly through it. Her hips squeezed in, and aided by her legs, she made it through, her ass cheeks smooshing together on passage.
  420.  
  421. Connor was on her heels as Amelia took off in a waddling dash down the hall. Before this new explosion of growth, Amelia’s butt did plenty of jostling and jiggling whenever she broke into so much as a brisk walk, but now her ass leapt with each stride, her mighty thighs firing her fleshy cheeks into the air with every step, waves of undulation passing down their slopes.
  422.  
  423. Amelia’s heart raced. She had been prepared for another round of growth today but this was way more than what she expected. More than fat-bottomed, she was all tush now, and growing tush-ier.
  424.  
  425. Had she been thinking ahead, Amelia might have gone sideways through the bedroom door. Instead, she got stuck again, worse this time because she was wider at the end of the hallway than she had been at the start. Her broad hips easily caught the sides of the doorway. Her panties chose that moment to split along the side seams, giving her flanks more room to surge out and squish into the door frame.
  426.  
  427. Connor caught up to Amelia as she drew her panties out from the narrow depths of her butt crack.
  428.  
  429. “Are you really stuck?” said Connor in disbelief. He extended a hand to help her.
  430.  
  431.  “No,” she said. Putting her hands and feet into it, she worked her huge, naked ass through the doorway, her cheeks hugging each other fervidly as she went through.
  432.  
  433. She popped into the bedroom on unsteady feet and fell to her knees, ass bobbling and rippling. Connor came up behind Amelia and helped her to her feet. “What is going on?” he said. She didn’t know what to say. He put his arms around her shoulders to comfort her. Her megabutt still swelled, growing bigger and rounder, pressing against Connor and the engorged member in his pants.
  434.  
  435. The growth suddenly kicked into high gear. Amelia’s thighs, each already a foot wide at her pelvis, grew fuller and heavier. Like stuffed sausages they grew thicker and thicker above the knees with girly meat. Even her calves grew rounder and meatier. Her hips positively bloomed, their curvature growing still more extreme, widening her frame into new echelons of womanly curvaceousness. The heart shape of Amelia’s lower body puffed past Valentine card whimsy. Her ass, her bounteous twin mounds framed by her yawning hips and supported by massive thighs, blew up like a beach toy. It billowed higher and higher, steepening the downward slope at the small of her back. Connor could’ve buried his face down past his ears in one cheek of that sumptuous booty flesh.
  436.  
  437. “Oh my god,” groaned Amelia. She was getting too big, too wide. No longer would she easily pass through doors. Jeans would no longer hold her. Her tub would never take such unwieldy girth and volume. It was possible she wouldn’t even be able to sit on the dining room chairs now that she was backed up by such extension of ass. A bicycle might hold her, but not without her butt gobbling up the seat beneath it and her thighs rubbing furiously together as she pedaled. And so much for flying on an airplane, unless she wanted to buy two adjoined seats, one for each gargantuan cheek. No, Amelia was best suited for big, plushy furniture like the living room couch or the bed. Nothing to do but keep her big, fat ass parked there all day.
  438.  
  439. Yet still she grew. She tore Connor’s arms away from her and turned, her hip jabbing Connor in the belly. As he recoiled, she shoved him onto the bed.
  440.  
  441. “Oof!” he said, surprised.
  442.  
  443. Amelia ground her teeth. She turned around, moving her colossal rear into position and sending it crashing down on him.
  444.  
  445. “Ahh!” he cried, buried from stomach to legs under Amelia’s glorious bottom.
  446.  
  447. “Does this turn you on, jackass?!” she said, looking down at him over her shoulder. “Well? Doesn’t it? You just love that your girlfriend is so wide she can’t walk through a goddamn door.”
  448.  
  449. She lifted her titanic tush and sent it walloping down again on Connor. “Ow! What the fuck? What is wrong with you!” he said. He pushed against those humongous cheeks, trying to get her off him, but fit as Connor was, she was heavy. Heavy, big and broad.
  450.  
  451. ...and still growing.
  452.  
  453. “This is your fault!” she screamed.
  454.  
  455. “What?!”
  456.  
  457. She lifted herself again and slammed onto him. Her jiggling buns whacked Connor in the solar plexus. He wailed in pain.
  458.  
  459. “You let me get away with this. You let me keep sitting around doing jack shit. You didn’t even say anything when I stopped doing chores or leaving the house. You could’ve dumped me, kicked me out. But you didn’t because you loved having a girlfriend with a great, HUGE, fat butt. So NOTHING else mattered.”
  460.  
  461. As she spoke her gigantic cheeks swelled bigger and heavier, covering more of Connor. Amelia’s ass filled his vision, painfully squishing his erection beneath her. He pressed at her epic derriere with both hands, wads of billowing flesh rolling around his palms. No use. She was too heavy, too massive, and too strong. Her great, powerful thighs gripped Connor’s midsection, keeping his legs immobile. Her massiveness built on top of him, from her hips to her thighs to her towering ass cheeks. Squished down under Amelia’s weight, those cheeks were thick as car tires. On either side they spilled over Connor’s belly and rested on the bed. Connor’s aching member wanted to swell but Amelia gave it no room. She meant it that way.
  462.  
  463. His teeth gritted in pain. “Please get off me.”
  464.  
  465. “You have to make a promise.”
  466.  
  467. “Wh-what?”
  468.  
  469. “You’re going to take care of me. Forever. You’re going to feed me and buy me clothes and get a new bathtub that will fit me and give me all the sex I want. You have to do it because I got stuck with this huge, fat butt and you liked it that way. I am never going to work again. Deal?”
  470.  
  471. “Fine! Deal!”
  472.  
  473. “Promise?”
  474.  
  475. “Promise!”
  476.  
  477. “You’ll take care of me?”
  478.  
  479. “I will!”
  480.  
  481. “Forever?”
  482.  
  483. “Always!”
  484.  
  485. As they spoke, Amelia’s butt was practically eating Connor like another poor pair of panties. Her haunches went on widening, thickening, spreading across the bed. A thickening wall of tush caged Connor in. Amelia’s cheeks had spread to the point of approaching his pecs. Her butt muscles had apparently gained a share of her new, whopping rump mass, and she held her sturdy boyfriend captive beneath her. The twin upper regions of her mighty cheeks bulged, her gluteus maximus flexing as she clenched her mammoth buttocks.
  486.  
  487. With every pleading promise Connor made, rushes of elation washed over Amelia. Her knees trembled as she gripped him in her superhuman hams. The ass-fixated doofus would never let her go. She was his treasure and his master. Amelia had never felt such satisfaction. They were going to make this work.
  488.  
  489. “And you’ll give me lots of attention?” she said
  490.  
  491. “Tons! As much as I can!”
  492.  
  493. “And you’ll love every, every new inch of me?”
  494.  
  495. “Yes! YES I WILL! I WILL AMELIA I PROMISE!”
  496.  
  497. She unclenched herself. Connor gasped. His manhood, no longer strangled and tormented, had room to engorge.
  498.  
  499. Amelia’s growth stopped.
  500.  
  501. Amelia leaned forward, put her hands on her foot-thick-in-the-middle thighs, and, with an effort, lifted the tremendous weight of her hulking derriere. She slid off Connor and shuffled sideways to the mirror (she couldn’t fit between the bed and the dresser width-wize) and took stock of the new Amelia.
  502.  
  503. She was as wide as an overstuffed armchair. At the base of her waist, Amelia flared out so dramatically, Connor’s jaw was practically on the floor. Her upper body was so little now it looked almost like a handle for wielding her far more substantial lower self. Amelia’s great, huge tree trunk thighs were unworldly. They gracefully curved to her knees, then bulged out into calves as big around as coffee cans, before slimming down into willowy ankles.
  504.  
  505. Connor was casting off his clothes. “I can’t believe it,” he said excitedly. “What happened to you? Some kind of magic?”
  506.  
  507. Amelia shushed him as she went on examining herself. So much for her width. What about her depth? Twisting herself sideways while leaning partway on the bed, Amelia posed her humongous, round ass for the mirror. What she saw made her heart skip. A forearm’s length of booty thrust out from her. The twin columns of her hulking thighs lifted Amelia’s butt high in the air, making such a broad shelf you could play a game of solitaire on it if you minded the crack. And her crack had not just deepened. It had lengthened as her great, round cheeks had grown fuller and rounder, plunging down and around and around the falling slope of Amelia’s backside.
  508.  
  509. Connor, naked, came around and seized Amelia, sinking his hand deep into juicy bottom, squeezing a meager pinch of it. Amelia squirmed and gyrated. Her butt knocked the mirror against the wall and it slid to the floor.
  510.  
  511. As they climbed onto the bed. Connor was like a kid playing with a big, backyard toy. He squeezed, kneaded and slapped Amelia’s butt, watching it wriggle and stir. He rubbed his face in her cheeks and kissed the smooth, soft, pale moons. He gathered her cheeks up and pressed them together in his palms.
  512.  
  513. “Mmmm…yeah. Like that,” she said sweetly.
  514.  
  515. Amelia’s cheeks were now so deep Connor could pleasure himself to the hilt in their soft, cavernous embrace. As he did, mashing the giant mounds together, Amelia rested her chin on her folded hands, enjoying the feeling of Connor in the recesses of her gyrating lower half.
  516.  
  517. After a couple minutes, Amelia’s mind began to wander. She reached for her phone on the nightstand. As Connor had his way with her great, colossal butt, Amelia started another YouTube video.
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