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"Fizzy Lizzy Lard Ass' New Life": An Exclusive Cut
🕑 Added 2024-09-24 22:57:42 +0000 UTCHere's a patreon exclusive sequel to "Fit to Fat Slob" .
Enjoy!
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Elizabeth used to be hot. She really did. She used to tell herself that all the time. She was prim and proper, gorgeous and in control, and now….
Well now she was an obese slob whose flatulence served as her alarm clock.
A blast of gas escaped her fat ass with such volume and force that it shook the fat girl awake and got her to begin the long, arduous process of getting out of bed. That process was made difficult by the fact that her body was such a large size that her gut often slapped against her thighs and made the mere act of sitting up a challenge. This was further complicated by the fact that her bloated butt, and in fact the rest of her obese body, had carved a nice permanent divot in the mattress and that her fat flabby flesh was so consistently covered in a thick sheen of sweat that she very easily became stuck to and tangled in the sheets.
It was clear that Elizabeth was no more and that Fizzy Lizzy Lard Ass was here to stay, and Fizzy Lizzy had already had multiple occasions where she ended up tumbling out of bed and letting her big fat body cushion the blow. On this particular occasion, she landed squarely on her blubbery belly which squeezed and pushed out a long sustained fart like she was a human whoopie cushion.
Lizzy often felt like a human whoopie cushion these days, a real farting machine who was incapable of holding in her gas and therefore frequently unloading it in a very unladylike fashion. Worst still were the moments where the formerly fit and trim, prim and proper woman found herself forcing herself to fart. In the past it would have been unthinkable for someone as slim and sexy, gorgeous and refined as Elizabeth to purposefully pass gas, but nowadays Lizzy was often confronted with a bubbling in her big belly that forced her to lift a lumpy leg and squeeze out a titanic fart from between her blubbery cheeks just to get some relief.
After Lizzy managed to get her grotesquely sweaty body untangled from the bedsheet it was trapped in, she let out another loud fart almost as a means of propelling herself up to her fat feet and then waddled over to the mirror to begin her daily inspection of her formerly fit and toned and now redundantly obese body.
It was a humiliating ritual to be sure, but something compelled Lizzy to do it. Maybe she thought that one of these days she would look in the mirror and see her old toned body again, but mostly she found it important to remind herself over and over again just how far she had fallen as if she was continually inflicting herself more and more punishment. If she wasn’t so burdened by old prejudices, she may have been able to embrace her new life with body positivity, but Lizzy remembered the way she used to treat people when she was the glamorous Elizabeth, and she couldn’t let that go now that she was Lizzy. There was no redemption for her, only more and more humiliation even from herself.
Lizzy cupped her massive belly with both of her chubby hands. Every day she closed her eyes just before touching it and hoped that what she would touch was the formerly familiar sensation of her sexy abs, but that idea was a foreign one now, and she was now much more used to the crushing disappointment that came with the feeling of the massive cushion of fat that was her gluttonous gut. Her trim middle was now a mighty muffin top with a large hanging spare tire and matching meaty love handles. She pinched those chunky love handles with her chubby fingers and sighed before returning to her blubbery gut and feeling the fat undulate in her hands, oozing through the gaps in her fingers and then slapping against the tops of her thighs and bouncing around as she let it go. Then she would lift her fat belly apron up again so she could get a better look at those thick thighs.
Those thick thunder thighs were one of Lizzy’s greatest humiliations. And she had so much that she felt humiliated about, so that was really saying something.) But Lizzy hated the way she moved with her formerly athletic limbs replaced by lethargic thunder thighs. Her fat filled legs felt like they barely supported her nowadays, and they made each step a slow lumbering ordeal. The sweaty fat constantly rubbed together, and her wide stance meant she had a permanent waddle. She was like a fat awkward penguin with tree trunk thunder thighs crisscrossed with stretch marks and cellulite. She used to be able to go on morning jogs and felt like she could run forever. Now thanks to her thunder thighs, and of course the rest of her obese body, she moved like a fat slug and still felt winded after going a short distance, say from the couch to the kitchen.
Walking from the couch to the kitchen was an especially precarious walk when it came to having any hope of even maintaining what was left of her widened waistline. She would get tired from the walk from the couch to the kitchen which meant she would do a lot of her eating right out of the fridge which meant she was inclined to eat more and more of whatever was in reach until she felt well enough to waddle back to the couch with more snacks in hand, and often this took quite a while which meant she was eating quite a lot all the time, something her greedy gut was very eager to do anyway.
Her walking was further hindered by the anchor that was her fantastically fat ass. Each ass cheek bounced up and down, slapping onto the backs of her thunder thighs with every labored step. Those flabby ass cheeks had really ballooned compared to the toned and tight ones that she used to have. Now she had a shelf of an ass that still sagged down as a sad shapeless mass of fat. And it wasn’t just the fat that was humiliating, it was the fact that her fat ass was always incredibly stinky. And that stench came from more than just the flatulence. Sure, that was a constant, but her sweating also left her with permanent swamp ass, and the sheer size of her blubbery bottom meant that it was far more difficult to clean than she would have liked. Of course, as the days had gone on, Lizzy’s desire to clean at all had waned and waned.
Eventually, Lizzy finished her inspection and put on her ill-fitting pajamas, a well worn set covered in sweat and food stains that did little to contain her billowing fat. But with something now at least leaving her halfway decent, Lizzy waddled to her couch and order up a massive feast for breakfast, pancakes with bacon, scrambled eggs with hashbrowns, toast and a croissant with butter and jelly. She felt like she was sitting around forever waiting and starving as her empty and greedy stomach kept growling.
Finally, the belly rang and Lizzy lumbered toward the door, already salivating at the thought of food.
She opened the door and there he was, her knight in shining armor, Bradley.
Bradley was a scrawny ass nerd. He was a gangly, greasy skinned goofball who had lame ass loser neckbeard who still lived in his mother’s basement written all over him. Back in the day, before she let herself go, Elizabeth would have had scrawny losers like Bradley wrapped around her dainty finger. She’d stop him dead in his tracks and make him cum in his pants with just a look.
But now even Bradley looked at her with disgust. Lizzy could see it in his eyes as he looked her bloated body up and down, eyeing the way her whale of a belly flopped out so shamelessly over the waistband of her threadbare and greasy pajama pants. She could feel his judgment as he weighed the meal clearly large enough for two people in his hands and knowing she was going to be the only one gorging herself on it, and that the contents of the containers he was carrying would soon add to the mess on her food and sweat stained shirt and that the containers themselves would soon litter her apartment just like so many before them.
Worst still, she could tell by the way that Bradley’s nose crinkled that he could smell her, the could smell the stench of sour body offer that now radiated off of the previously glamorous girl who was once also so perfectly perfumed. Now instead of smelling like roses, she reeked of sweat and grease, and the fact that Bradley was clearly staring at her made her nervous enough to fart loudly right then and there which added flatulence to the aromatic equation.
The rotten egg that she had just laid right in front of Bradley made Lizzy flush further with embarrassment, and all she wanted to do was get her breakfast and stuff her fat face until she felt better, but there was just one problem.
Back in the day Elizabeth really liked to flaunt her body and Bradley was someone she especially loved to taunt and tease with it. So now….
When Lizzy went to grab the bag of food, Bradley pulled it away.
“Uh uh uh. Piggy wants her food? Piggy knows what she has to do to get it.”
Lizzy sighed as she grabbed a hold of her big belly with both hands and began to shake it up and down while slowly shifting her weight from one fat foot to the other, jumping being quite a bit beyond her at this point.
“Oink. Oink. Piggy is hungry. Oink. Oink. Piggy needs her food. Oink. Oink. Piggy needs to stuff her fat piggy face and her big fat piggy belly. Oink. Oink. Please feed Piggy. Oink. Oink. Oink.”
“Good, Piggy.” Jason said with derision as he shoved the bag against Lizzy’s belly fat.
“Enjoy.”
All Lizzy could do was offer another sad fart as Bradley went walking away. She could hear his laughter all the way down the hallway as she let the door close behind her, giving it one final bump with her wide rump.
But the smell of the food, that perked her up. She brought everything to the kitchen and started scarfing down the pancakes right there. She slathered them in butter and syrup and cramped them into her fat cheeks. She ate and ate and ate until she polished them off and released a victorious burp. With that fuel now filling her, Fizzy Lizzy let out another winding fart and then took the rest of her breakfast feast and waddled back to the living room.
Once she reached the couch, she settled into the crater her fat ass had made for herself and tucked into the rest of her meal. The eggs dotted her chin and shirt as she ate, but she didn’t care. She just powered through them and then took down the hashbrowns and tore through the toast before finally finished with the croissant barely noticing that the butter and jelly had fallen onto her shirt. Instead she just let loose another burp and leaned back to let rip another loud fart. Then she rested her greasy hands on her big greasy belly now swollen from her feast and gave the fat a rub.
It wasn’t long before her stomach was rumbling again and ordering her to get more food to snack on.
With a great effort, Lizzy pushed herself off of the couch, needing to rock back and forth quite a bit before she could really get herself going. Then she waddled off to the kitchen, and by the time she got there she was hungry enough to finish off the half a package of double stuffed Oreos that she had on the counter. (It took an odd bit of restraint to not eat the whole package when she first opened it.) Once she was refueled, she grabbed an entire pint of ice cream and waddled back into the living room.
Once she settled back into her couch crater, Lizzy started flipping through junk tv shows while shoving ice cream in her mouth. Every once in a while she felt the roiling in her blubber belly and let out a heavy sigh before doing what she knew she had to do, lifting her flabby leg and squeezing out yet another fart.
This was her life, her fat, flatulent life.
