/co/ rose/mom noncon forcefeeding weightgain

Swaying drunkenly, Ms. Lalonde made her way towards the wooden cabinet at the far side of the dim room. As her heels clicked coldly against the stone floor, she could feel the eyes of her daughter trained onto her curved figure; she knew Rose was watching, and even if she didn't want it now, the elder Lalonde knew just how to...butter up her targets, so to speak.

Slowly, methodically, she retrieved her weapon of choice: a thick, cream-filled tube, icing nozzle on one end and sloppy but steady knot of the other. Turning back to her bound daughter, she couldn't help but lick her lips as she surveyed her handiwork. Steadily growing potions at the dinner table and copious candy purchases over the last months had steadily packed pounds onto the once-lithe teen's figure, and try as she might to burn off the excess calories, her weight had blown up, first breaking the two-hundred-pound mark and rocketing higher and higher until she teetered at a solid 350lbs.

Rose's head craned upwards to look at her guardian, and a muffled protest escaped her mouth despite the tight gag across her neck. It was a rather ingenious device, a one-way blockage to keep her complaints in and still allowing her to "indulge", as it were. Equally tight synthetic ropes bound the fat girl's hands and legs to the small wooden chair, crushing her monstrously flabby thighs together and forcing her flabby gut out from beneath her stretched shirt.

"Now, dear, please calm down." Despite her soft, motherly tone, her words only seemed to further agitate her daughter, and she wobbled and pulled fruitlessly at her makeshift shackles. "Look, I brought you your favourite! I even made it myself..."

Slowly, she raised the nozzle of the tube to Rose's face. The teen responded by violently jerked her head away, eyes screwed shut; Mom simply took the back of her head in one iron-gripped hand and turned, slowly lining up the nozzle and the small gap in the girl's gag. She smirked, before leaning forward slightly and ramming the tube in.

As she began squeezing the thick, white cream into Rose's mouth, she watched as Rose began giving muffled cries, mouth clamping shut before the pressure of the cream forced her to swallow. Ms. Lalonde watched the bulge of her throat intently, the first dollop of cream travelling down past her pendulous breasts into her quivering gut. One glob became two, and two became three, as she slowly but surely filled her daughter with the sugary treat.

By the time the cream was halfway gone, Rose's cries of protest had died down in high-pitches whines, face flushed red as the occasional warm tear slipped down her round cheeks. Her gut had swollen outward from the mass amount forced into it, and her mother let one gloved hand wander down to the aching organ. Her fingertips brushed it's surface, before she gave a small grin and dug her fingertips into the flesh of her daughter's belly. It was both taut from pressure yet squishy from fat and the nature of it's contents, and as she pushed there was a slight give. Another pleading groan from Rose cut off into a gurgle, before being swallowed alongside the last of the cream.

Tossing the empty container to the floor, Mom stood back and looked over the stuffed, quietly sobbing girl before her. With the contents of the icing tube now forced into her aching, swollen stomach, her shirt was significantly less fitting, and the clasp of her pants had given way to her churning, cream-filled globe of a tummy. Tears of pain and confusion ran down her ruddy face, ruining any makeup she might have worn, and as she sniffled a muffled belch failed to make it's way past her gag.

"Rose, Rose, Rose..." murmured the elder, "You're such a big girl. I'm so proud of you." Carefully, she let her hands fall to her own ample hips, carefully unbuttoning her dress-skirt as her daughter's bloodshot, misty eyes widened. "But good girls deserve dessert, I think..."

It was clear that for all the agony Rose was in, her mother was in pleasure. The skirt fell to her ankles, revealing her simple white panties, and even through the tears Rose could see that her guardian was dripping wet. There was a slight "shlick"ing noise as she slid out of the soaked undergarments, before carefully walking up to Rose and looking down with a predatory smirk. "Well," she cooed, "let's get you nice and full..."

The bloated teen was too shocked to react when the gag fell from her lips, residual cream dripping to the floor alongside it. She could only stare, eyes wide, as her mother lifted one long, lush leg to the side of the chair, carefully raising her curtly-trimmed pussy closer to her mouth. Before she could so much as cry out in protest, one slender hand was on her back, and she was shoved head-first into the waiting crotch of her expectant parent.

Biting her lower lip, Ms. Lalonde felt Rose's face contact her goods, and for a moment she was afraid that her daughter would fail to live up to her expectations. Moments later, however, she felt the slight touch of a wandering tongue amongst her slick pubes, and with a quiet, hitched breath, she knew she had already won.

"Mmmnn, yes, that's a good girl," she moaned, as the younger Lalonde's tongue experimentally darted closer towards her waiting snatch. Below, Rose could do nothing but screw her eyes shut, the urge to vomit all but overwhelming. She knew she had to keep going, however, or the next round of their little passive-aggressive game would only be more brutal. All Rose could do was pray that she wasn't meant to actually consume any of the hot fluids marring her face; she doubted her engorged gut could handle it.

A hand gripped her hair, pulling with enough force to sting, and Rose steeled herself before pushing her tongue through the opening of her mother's vagina, running it across the searing-hot flesh within. In response, Mom keened audibly, pushing her crotch closer to Rose's face and slowly rubbing up and down like a bitch in heat. The embarrassment and humiliation was bearing down on her, and she wasn't sure how much of the dampness on her cheeks was the elder's fluid and how much was her own salty tears.

Finally, just as Rose felt like she was about to puke, heat and pressure bursting from her massive gut, she felt her mother's pussy clamp tighter. Above, a moan escaped Ms Lalonde's throat as her body quivered in arousal, before she gave a hissing cry of orgasm, splattering her juices across Rose's face. She humped the younger's visage, coating not only her bangs but her hair, neck, and the crest of her collarbone with the sticky wetness. Slowly, her lust died down, and as she pulled away, strands stretching between the two girls, she let her grip on Rose's now-ruined hair go.

No longer bound by her mother's hand, Rose let her shaking body collapse in an undignified heap on the cold floor. She gasped for air, struggling to see through the coating on her face, and was on some level aware of the bindings on her chubby wrists and ankles being eased. Moments later, the familiar sight of Mom's shoes came into view, and her silky voice sailed down from above.

"I think you've done exceptionally well, dear. Perhaps you should take a break, though; you seem a bit flushed. As for myself, I think I'll take this time to...clean up a bit, as it were."

Turning to leave, Ms Lalonde could hear a quiet sob and a shaky burp from her daughter's sprawled-out, bloated figure on the floor. She paid it no mind, instead opting to retrieve the once-forgotten icing tube, place it back in the cabinet, and ensure it was sealed tightly before making her way to the door. She knew her skirt and panties would probably be ruined come the morning, but a woman of her caliber and wealth had many a spare.

"Goodnight, Rose." With that, the light flicked off, and Rose was left alone, able only to listen to the fading footsteps of her satisfied parent and cry to herself.