Maids - The fattening

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Amazing ToeHoe commission for the ever so fine gentleman

This was kind of a "dare" to myself. Whether I could draw a really heavy girl. Ahh well chub's chub.

You also get to enjoy some writing by him!

In the space between seconds, Sakuya found reprieve. With time stopped indefinitely, she found the opportunity to treat herself to everything which she had been denied. A space on the couch allowed her to slip out of that stifling maid outfit, allowing her gut to billow out before her as she let her fat relax. Rolls upon rolls flooded out as everything about her softened by the second, allowing inches of compressed time to finally free the flab which she held behind a girdle of unaccounted minutes.


There was still so much to be done, but she could spare herself her daily ritual. A mountain of fried chicken, chocolates and soft drink, all the fatty foods which she dare not consume in front of others. She smiled as she felt her belly flop out into the open, its vast softness known only to her as she burped and gobbled down her meals. Inches of flesh rolled against flesh as she basked in the glow of her blubber, extending its borders with every chomp of her ravenous maw.


How did it all start, you ask? What had started off as a novelty soon became routine. As she became plumper, she became hungrier, her culinary skills serving her girth well. She would sneak dishes on the side, roasting entire turkeys for herself, even going so far to hand-feed deep fried chocolate into the depths between her plump, luscious lips. And once she had gained a most excellent rotundness, now so fat that she could barely hold all of it in, 300lbs of mouth-watering maid fat which bubbled like overflowing jello, going back to the way things were would be harder than ever before.


Staring around the room with knife and fork in hand, she could see the chaos still left to be dealt with. The librarian gasping for her asthma medication, the gate guard being a nuisance as usual, and her mistresses warring over something sweet were just some of the horrors which lay in store for her once her break was over.

The jellied, chocolate covered custard between her mistress’ eager fingers called out to her, the sickly sweet softness calling out to her to stay and feast a little while longer. She owed to herself after all. Consuming the cause of the argument would also be killing two birds with one stone.

But her obesity was already at its limit. Compressed time could only hide the enormity of her bulk for so long, the sands of her stopped hourglass pouring faster and faster with every pound she gained. If she took even one more bite, she was sure to rip space time and lay bare all her juicy pounds for all to see.

What was a maid to do?

The answer was obvious of course.

It was the maid’s turn to feast.

And how she would feast.