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Tags: Beckett mariner begging Belch Blob Burp D'Vana Tendi denial dom/sub Domination Domination/Submission dubcon dubious consent embarrassed Embarrassed feedee Extreme weight gain Fat Feederism feeding Fingering Force Feeding Gas Gassy helpless Humiliation immobile immobility Mariner massive belly Non-Vore Obese orgasm control orgasm denial overweight Pleading semi-willing feedee slob star trek Star Trek: Lower Decks Stuffing Sweat taunting teasing Tendi torn clothing Weight Gain weight gain implied
She glanced up at the Orion’s face, finding her not shyly glancing away, but staring forward with a heady, glassy-eyed expression, her tongue lolling out slightly as she huffed heavily. Then Mariner’s eyes flicked to her friend’s arms, as stout and podgy as the rest of her, from shoulders as wide as her huge hips all the way down to plump, fat fingers that twitched and curled uselessly. Now that she knew what to think about, it seemed like the most obvious thing in the world—she couldn’t believe it had never occurred to her before, though it was the sort of problem only someone as massively overweight as Tendi could have.
“How long has it been?” she asked, her words untouched by her usual taunting tone, the question alone more than enough to make the breathless butterball blush. “Since the last time you were even able to reach down there, tubby?”
I'm officially back now! It's been a long few weeks, and a good chance to really take a break, but it's good to finally be posting a public story again. This one was a lot of fun to write, getting back to one of my favorite settings and playing around with a delightful little stuffing/denial idea~
This story was available two weeks ago on my SubscribeStar and Patreon! $5 subscribers get access to exclusive commentaries on this and other stories, and $1 subscribers get the next story today—here's a little sneak peek!
And once she’d finally run out of ideas, what she’d thought was already the worst torment imaginable somehow got worse. With all the long hours she spent simply staring at the striped ceiling overhead, waiting for literally anything to happen…as humiliating as it was, she actually started looking forward to the routine of her former friends “accidentally” trampling her every day. It was rare that any of them even seemed to notice her anymore, simply growing so accustomed to Pomni’s status as a weakly groaning welcome mat that they didn’t even register her existence, but just having people nearby was infinitely better than the vast majority of her life had become.
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