Singularity (USSBBW)

Her stomach slouched in an apron that smothered her legs entirely and draped beyond them, onto her ass. It also expanded out a few feet along the tarp in front of her. From there, her massive middle stacked roll after roll of dense adipose. Her skin stretched and grew to hold several hundred pounds of fat, all billowing outward and upward in heavy flesh. Sitting back in her ass, her belly peaked at her forehead. Of course, this was a belly routinely stuffed to capacity. Right now, its taut bloat pulled a sharp, round peak in her gut, shifting her tits aside. Its bubbling gurgles and churns percolated against the walls of her stretched organ. Her thick fat muffled her stomach's chatter, softening it like it softened everything else.

Her gargantuan boobs wobbled high above. She looked up at their looming, rounded peaks. They left a weighted pressure on her gut, reaching beyond her stomach's horizon and sprawling halfway down the front of her stomach. They swept all the way to her sides, meeting her ass couch behind her. She could feel the skin of her breasts rub the skin of her butt. In doing so, her breasts sandwiched her arms to her ass.

Even if her arms weren't trapped under a landslide of lard, they were simply too bulky to bend and too cumbersome to lift. They became yet more ridges of fat wedged between her breasts and butt. That trend continued with her hands. Her palms ballooned with blubber, and her fingers thickened with cushioning. Her knuckles couldn't flex to hold something. Clenching her fingers only resulted in squeezing her digits against her palm like a stress ball.

Her chin laid in concentric rings around her head. Behind, her neck fat gave her a pillow. In front, her flowing chin spilled over her chest, squashing against the base of her breast mountains. Her bubbly cheeks folded partially over her lips, while her fat chin padded under her jaw. She chewed a meatloaf, kneading her chin down into her neck fat and gyrating her corpulent lips against her cheeks. Her cheeks billowed upward, covering the bottom half of her vision. As she looked around the bright, air conditioned room, her fat cheeks blocked the bottom half of her sight. Not that she would have anything to see, with breasts overhead and a belly that stretched far away.

She swallowed, sending the fatty beef to join her groaning, digesting bulk. The food pulled just a bit more stretch in her stomach.

Nathan knelt by her, naked. He petted her stomach softly, tending to her incredible bloat. He always massaged her wherever she wanted. Nathan had encouraged her to request what she desired. After years, that advice started to sink in.

She was getting full, but she still had a little room. She wanted dough, cheese, and most of all, grease. "Mmph. Peetszja nekshgt!!" As she spoke, her lips scraped against her cheeks, and her mandible fought down against her chin layers.

Nathan looked down at her sweetly along the alley between her tits. "One pizza, coming right up." He bent down, out of view, and returned with an 18-inch pizza. The circular pie offered double extra cheese. Its tangy scent blasted Isla's nostrils.

Her stomach rumbled passionately, and she opened her mouth gleefully.

Nathan rolled the pizza like a burrito. As he did, its greasy cheese squelched against itself. Then, he leaned over her gut and planted one end of the pizza right in her gaping maw.

The pizza brushed the insides of her cheeks and the top of her chin, unable to avoid her overflowing flesh. A quarter of it crammed into her mouth, stretching her jaws wide and stuffing her mouth with steamy, gushy crust.

She bit down, handily shredding the pizza with her well-trained jaws.

Nathan watched her with his own hungry grin. Without saying a word, he made Isla the center of the universe. He pushed on the pizza slowly but steadily. By pushing on the pizza from outside, he jammed her mouthful of food into her gullet.

The half-chewed pizza stretched Isla's throat. The woman craved any stuffing, cramming, inflating, bloating force she could find, and her throat was no exception. She relished the sensation of an esophagus full of hot, oily food. Her throat's walls gripped tight on the pizza, wringing it. It squished in her powerful tube.

Nathan pushed onward. Without any action from her, he forced her gullet to take more pizza. Yet, his slow pace stuffed her without overwhelming her. He knew just the right speed to satisfy her.

Her eyelids fluttered with rapture while her esophagus let food pass through it. The far end of the pizza trailed down into her stomach.

Nathan's hand met Isla's lips.

Isla locked eyes with him, partially to flirt and partially to satisfy her own affection for him. Her lips wrapped around the tail end of the pizza. She sucked down, and her throat pulled on the pizza ferociously. Her muscles tugged the pie a few inches along. Again, she clenched her gullet, and she yanked the pizza a few inches further. Her muscles pulled down the pizza as if climbing a tall, cheesy mountain. And with each new foothold, the pizza crowded her stomach more and more. When the end of the pizza popped out of the bottom of her gullet, her throat relaxed, while her stomach tensed.

After thick meatloaf and doughy pizza, she needed something to cool her tummy and clear her throat. Instantly, the carton of Turkey Hill came to her mind. "Ife--(BHAORP!)--chream!"

Without missing a beat, Nathan turned away and returned with a carton of vanilla ice cream. He ripped off the top and dipped his finger in. "Melted, but still chilly. Just how you like it! Now, tilt your head back for me."

Excited, Isla wiggled her hips. Her body was too heavy to move anywhere, but she could still shift within its plush, cushy confines. The movement sloshed her fat side to side. Her left hip rolled into the far side of her left ass cheek, and then it rebounded, pushing her right hip against the far side of her right ass cheek. The force shook her burbling, bloated belly. She pushed her head back, but her neck and back fat formed a wall that she couldn't move. She grit her teeth and shoved hard, but she could only tilt a slight bit.

Nathan bit his lip as he watched her effort. "Let me help." He calmly put one hand on her forehead. "Let me know if this hurts." Carefully, he pushed her head back against her fat. His strength managed to push her head down against her barrier of blubber.

With her head tilted, her chin no longer forced her mandible up. Her jaw naturally lolled open, awaiting ice cream.

He held the carton over her mouth. Gingerly, he angled the carton down. Thick, white liquid streamed from the carton.

Cool, sweet cream splashed on her tongue and flowed into her throat. It streamed, luscious and heavy, right through her mouth, down her gullet, and into her stomach. Chilly and viscous, it poured into the many pockets of free space throughout her food-stretched stomach.

Isla breathed slowly through her nose as the ice cream's delectable flavor accompanied its heavy flood in her belly. It eased the muggy, greasy contents of her gut, giving her insides something cool and sweet to digest. Unlike the sharp bloat of food, the ice cream pushed evenly against every wall of her stomach, treating her less like a pincushion and more like a balloon. The even, frosty expansion was less of an exciting stretch and more of a soothing swell.

The end of the ice cream dripped into her.

Her stomach crooned and groaned. Stationary on the outside, its insides felt like constant dynamite blasting heavy concrete. Her stomach's weight pressed down on her legs and her chest. Her lungs expanded with all their might against her stomach, pulling a wheezing breath. She needed Nathan's hands immediately. "Buh, (hurfff), bellshee frub!!"

He gently set aside the empty carton and put his hands on the peak of her violent gut. "I thought you were getting close to your limits. You're eating more and more every day, though, so it's hard for me to tell." His broad, strong hands pushed subtly against her stomach, as if to suppress its incendiary digestion. His hands moved up along her stomach and wriggled under her breasts. Then, he stroked down her stomach. His hands crested the peak of her stomach. As his hands journeyed down the far side of her gut, his body dipped low, and his face disappeared from view. He spread his hands wide, but he couldn't reach the sides of her massive midsection. His firm touch pacified her urgent stomach.

Riding the heft of her stuffing and the pleasure of Nathan's touch, Isla entered a satisfied high. Everything was perfect. A thought nagged her, though. She had yelled at Nathan, and he never lost his cool. She worried she was asking for too much. "Ab I choo jemanjing?"

Nathan rubbed up the front of her stomach, and his head popped up over the horizon of her gut. "Too demanding? No!"

An emotional stinging winced Isla's face. These days, she got so riled up over feedings that she went into overdrive without even realizing. "I jusht ghet sho exschitjed..."

Nathan hugged her stomach, plugging his furious erection in her squashed navel. "That's okay. I do, too." His warm voice embraced her as much as his arms did.

After overcoming her anxiety, Isla recognized how gratifying it was to demand whatever she wanted.

No matter what she needed, Nathan was there, ready to give it to her. He made her an empress.

Her lips were so big, though, not to mention her cheeks and her chin. Her face made talking laborious. She could tell her speech was slurred, and she worried that one day, she might not be able to issue a demand. "Whadj ibf I ghet sho bigdge gszhat I gan'kt kalk? Haow hwill vwe gobbunigate?"

Nathan continued his caring massage. "Don't worry. I'll always know what you mean."

* * * * *

Time flowed gently and easily. Isla's cheeks blanketed her eyes with thick, warm flesh, blotting out any light. Some kind of fat beside her head, whether it was from her neck or her shoulders, shrouded her ears. No sound pierced its voluptuous veil.

Each nostril breathed cool, refreshing air from its own plastic tube. Deep within her balmy blubber, the chill of the air fed her precious oxygen. Another tube filled her mouth, keeping her enormous cheeks parted for the all-important task of feeding.

Aside from those tubes, fat enveloped her head. Cheeks covered her face, pressed inward by the dense adipose in her breasts. Her nipples tingled at some infinite distance, possibly from a breeze or a tickle. Her shoulders propped up beside her head. They coiled broad doughnuts of lard around her arms, suspending them in blubber. So much fat wrapped her fingers that they could not bend to stroke even the overgrown forearm flab that surrounded them. Her upper back fat rolled up behind her head in a constant, luxurious pillow.

She existed in a soft, cushy cocoon without awareness of time or space. She couldn't answer when she had last heard Nathan or how big she was. She passed in and out of slumber without discrimination between the waking world and the realm of dreams.

At the same time, that cocoon was her own body. She was entrenched deep within her stomach. Her waist billowed yards on either side of her, pushing up her arms, while her stomach was a stationary avalanche of fat in front of her. The same flesh that suspended her in place with copious adipose also served as her link to the outside world. Her naked skin stretched over her girth, and from its surface, she felt the cool touch of central air and the warm embrace of Nathan. Of course, plenty of skin did not reach the outside world. Her body packed rolls and folds of flesh, one atop another, as it slotted more and more blubber into her body. Her own puffy pudge creased over itself, and she felt her own skin as much as the air outside, if not moreso.

Her back sprawled in two broad columns of corpulence, one over each shoulder blade. They padded her thoroughly, but they were also compressed into her by her ass. Two titanic butt cheeks rose high above her, although she had no idea how high. Her neck swaddled the back of her head; her back fat layered over that; and then, her ass layered over that. Above her scalp, the front tips of her rump met the edges of her face-smothering tits. The cheeks spread wider than her waist, and they felt about as big as her stomach, but Isla had no way to determine that for sure. She could only tell that they were huge and doughy.

Her legs were easier to measure. Her thighs, though vast, failed to escape the blanket of her stomach. Gallons of fat poured from her thighs over her calves, engulfing them. Within them, her calves sealed over her feet. Her tootsies were nested deep inside of caving lard. She flexed her entrenched ankles, pushing her corpulent toes into her heavy calves. She clenched her overwhelmed knees, pressing her globular calves into her enveloping thighs. She wiggled her immobile hips, scraping her buried thighs between her plush, voluminous ass and her dense, heavy underbelly. Lacking any ability to bend her joints, she could still use her muscles to grind flesh against flesh and fat against fat. Given the immensity and softness of her body, she had plenty to writhe against, and it was all the same warm, cushy blubber.

Nathan's open palm pressed into the front of her stomach. That was his way of saying, "Hello."

Isla cooed back. Unable to move her lips, she couldn't form words in response. Still, she knew that her feeding tube carried her affectionate tones to the outside world.

Nathan clenched his fingertips excitedly in her doughy middle. He was beyond her view, but his glee was palpable.

And infectious, as she giggled. His loving touch and her rocking laughter stirred her stomach awake. Deep within her middle, a yawning rumble slowly expanded. It began at a point, then swelled to the walls of her stomach. It rattled her gut from one end to the other. The force scratched a sharp ache through her stomach walls, and she moaned in discomfort.

In the next moment, mashed potatoes hit her tongue. Nathan must have seen her pangs ahead of time, since he clearly had some food prepped before her tummy had a chance to rumble.

Isla didn't even have time to ponder her hunger before her craving was answered. Hot and buttery, the mush flowed easily into her. It piled up in her mouth, pressing on her cheeks and the roof of her mouth. Pump after pump, more potatoes gushed in, pushing food down her throat without any effort from her part. The slop soothed her gullet with its warmth and moisture.

Potatoes hit her gut, and it roared ferociously. The taste of food sent her stomach into a demanding frenzy. Its grumbles grew tenfold. Though alarming, the urgent hunger pangs were perfectly alright with Isla. The more desperate her hunger was, the more satisfying it was to quell. Few things were better than racking up a huge appetite and crushing it under tons of food.

Outside, Nathan placed both hands on the face of her stomach. He spread his hands wide, reaching towards the edges of her stomach. He stopped short a fair distance from her sides, though.

That was one of the few ways Isla had left to appreciate her size. She was like a wall to Nathan, too broad to reach from one end to the other. She couldn't tell how much wider she was, which made her bulk unfathomably large.

With a gentle pressure, his hands moved up her stomach. His hands slid under her breasts, making way for his arms to follow behind. When his palms reached the peak of her stomach, his shoulders had burrowed under her breasts. His full arms stroked her tender underboobs, titillating her.

Isla's breasts molded over Nathan, rubbing his face and weighing over his arms. She had no external way to express her budding arousal. Her most powerful muscle was her esophagus, tucked far away from the outside world. It was perfect, then, that she had food in this very moment to exercise on. She sucked down the mashed potatoes, vacuuming them into her stomach. She turned from passive feeding into voracious gulping.

Nathan parted his arms, rubbing sideways over the top of her stomach and the underside of her breasts. His careful caress pressed into her stomach's ample adipose and brushed her dense breasts. With his arms stretched far apart, he lowered down the front of her stomach.

She felt held, even as she dwarfed him. She loved the way his strong embrace kneaded her soft girth, and that sensation only grew better the more fat she had.

That was because the further Nathan squished into her pillowy softness, the more wonderful his touch felt. He continued down her stomach, and somewhere along the way, his arms popped out under her breasts. His arms encountered a crease, and he pushed forward, wedging his hug into her folded flesh. As he leaned into her, his face smooshed into her stomach. His lips gnawed on her doughy fat sensually. His lips opened wide, then tightened as his upper teeth brushed her stomach. Finally, his lips puckered.

Isla played back the motion in her mind, and she read his lips.

They had uttered, "I love you."

She cooed in response, "AAAaaaa," starting at a high pitch and going low. Her moan came through the deluge of potato rushing through her gullet. She sucked harder, grasping at air. Her esophageal power challenged the tube's pumping ability.

Nathan smooched her stomach, then departed.

Her feeding tube jostled against her breasts. Suddenly, the potatoes flowed faster into her. Nathan had read her eager sucking, and he had turned the pump higher for her.

His touch reappeared under her breasts, right where they billowed past her stomach. This time, he traced up along the outside of her breasts. With his arms outstretched, he barely made contact with her dense boobs as he rubbed upward. His light strokes tickled her titties.

Her breasts billowed atop her belly. While her softer stomach scrunched into folds under her heavy boobs, her breasts themselves were bulbous and smooth. Their round flesh arced far and wide, only collapsing into folds where their own girth sloped them against her chest and face. Fat inflated them like balloons. At their middle, her cleavage met with a sealed wall of flesh higher and longer than she could tell. Only her feeding and breathing tubes pierced between her tits.

They had only grown more sensitive with each pound she accrued. She savored a good tickle, which was enough to arouse her without agitating her. Of course, a good groping could be a nice tease, but Isla appreciated that Nathan took a more affectionate tone at the moment.

He rose higher and higher along her breasts, stirring a needy tingle in his wake. Minutes seemed to pass during his trek up her mountainous breasts. Halfway to her summit, he cupped her areolas. His hands grabbed her nipples, one in each hand. He wrapped his grasp around each bulbous tip. It took his entire hand to grab one of her bloated nipples. Then, he slowly squeezed inward. His subtle strokes gave way to brawny groping. Slow but strong, he clenched her nipples, then released them, only to tighten his grip again. Working her tits like udders, he excited her further and further.

Isla's heart beat hard from Nathan's toying at her bloated nipples. She flexed her biceps, as if to reach out to him. Instead, she bear-hugged her tits with her overflowing biceps. Pleasure and defeat mingled. She had so much of herself to appreciate, but she couldn't reach Nathan. She was turned on by him, but she was so far from payoff. Potatoes shuttled right down her throat, but not enough to slake her hunger. The contradictory intertwining of receiving and yearning revved desire within her chest and sparked between her legs.

Once again, Nathan disappeared.

Isla moaned, shrill and needy. She knew Nathan was going to come back with something better, but it still stung when he left her wanting so much so hard.