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Stuffed, Part 8
🕑 Added 2025-05-30 19:06:55 +0000 UTC$7/Bronze Directory
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Summary: Inspired by Surrogate Stuffing by Jaundis. Lynn is thirty-six. Her eighteen-year-old daughter, Hina, loves to stuff her belly to the brim with food. Determined to mitigate the effects of this bad habit, Lynn casts a spell to make 3/4 of the food that Hina consumes teleport to Lynn’s own belly. But Lynn soon realizes that this was a bad idea, because Hina doesn't stop eating until she feels really stuffed. Contains: Female: stuffing, belly expansion, weight gain, force feeding. Request submitted by Sebastian.
This story is a work of fiction. As specified throughout the story, all characters featured in this work are 18 years of age or older.
-
Lynn was lying back in a hospital bed, breathing heavily, her belly protruding beneath the sheets like a small mountain towering above. In no time, a sonographer pulled back her sheets and drew up her hospital gown. A cool gel was squirted against Lynn’s globe, then the sonographer massaged Lynn with a blunt tool while studying a warping black screen.
“Is the baby in position?” the doctor asked as he snapped on gloves. A nurse was hooking Lynn up to a blood pressure monitor.
The sonographer squinted and frowned and continued to rub the device into Lynn’s belly. The silence went on.
“Jennifer?” the doctor demanded.
“I…can’t find the baby,” said the sonographer, her voice stunned.
“You can’t find the heartbeat?” asked the nurse.
“No, I just — there’s no baby.”
There was a beat of shocked silence.
“Get out of the way,” said the doctor.
The sonographer hurried aside, the doctor stepping forward and taking over the scan. He rubbed the device into Lynn’s belly with renewed effort.
Lynn’s cheeks were red.
“What…” the doctor muttered to himself. “How…?”
“I’ve been trying to tell you,” Lynn managed. “I’m not pregnant. I just—gained some weight,” she finished off lamely.
The technician, the doctor, and the nurse all turned to stare at her. The stunned silence seemed to go on for ages.
-
Lynn was given IV fluids and sent on her way home. To her dismay, the fluids only made her feel more bloated. The doctor also ordered a visiting dietitian. Lynn couldn’t stop thinking about the astonished looks on the faces of her medical team after it was confirmed that she, indeed, was only carrying fat, and not a child.
But no one seemed as disturbed and surprised as Charlotte was, who opened and closed her mouth several times, but could not manage to produce a single word during the whole drive home.
After Charlotte dropped her off, Lynn eased herself down on her living room couch with a groan. As she lightly cupped her flushed, swollen abdomen, her phone buzzed in her purse. Lynn dug it out with her free hand, then studied the text notification.
As though to rub salt in an already sore wound, the message read:
I’m staying at dad’s
-Hina
-
Hina groaned.
She, in fact, had not gone to her father’s house.
Presently, she was sprawled across the lumpy couch in her best friend’s basement. She lay her hand across her sore belly, surprised to find that it was bloated slightly. That’s a first, she mused.
“Did you really win a hot dog eating contest?” asked Melissa as she plopped down in the armchair facing her.
Hina weakly nodded.
“Against college guys?” Melissa added in disbelief.
Hina groaned again, closing her eyes. As uncomfortable as she felt, the $300 prize had totally been worth it.
“So what are we gonna spend it on?” asked Melissa with a mischievous edge to her voice.
Rolling her eyes, Hina turned to her side, facing the couch cushions. “I’m going to sleep it off,” she mumbled.
There was a crinkle of foil, followed by the sound of Melissa munching on something.
“Weed cookie?” Melissa offered.
Hina was about to remind Melissa how stuffed she was, but paused. The THC might actually help her sleep. “Just a bite.” She held up her hand.
Melissa placed a chunk of chocolate chip cookie into Hina’s palm.
Hina shoved it into her mouth, gulping down the soft cookie piece with barely any chewing. She then allowed her eyelids to sink and drifted off to sleep.
-
Hina shouldn’t have lied to her mother. But if she was lucky, which she often was, her mother would not bother to touch base with her father. Thus, Hina would be free to hang out at Melissa’s for however long it took her parents to figure out she was missing.
The weed cookies made her hungry, which just led to Hina consuming even more of them. As she gobbled the baked goods down, Hina noticed she was getting surprisingly bloated. Even with most of the food she consumed going straight to her mother’s body, it seemed Hina was finally starting to put on weight. She shook her head in bemusement, but then she had to pause to wonder how her mother was handling all this. Hina winced at the thought.
But Lynn had independently engineered this whole conundrum, so Hina wasn’t about to feel too guilty. She allowed her mind to drift as she stuffed another cookie into her mouth. It was a Saturday afternoon. She and Melissa were enjoying a lazy weekend of reality TV and the occasional cartoon.
“Oh shit,” Melissa suddenly blurted, the half-eaten cookie in her hands dropping to her lap. “I think there was a mix-up.”
“What do you mean?” said Hina, who was still happily chomping on the sweets.
“It’s been two hours and neither of us are high,” Melissa said, looking at Hina as though she was an idiot. “I think we’re eating my mom’s lactation cookies.”
“No shit?” Hina took another bite.
“Hina!”
“They’re good!” said Hina defensively.
“Stop eating them,” Melissa chastised. “Your — your boobs or gonna get, like, big!” The girls paused at the ridiculousness of Melissa’s comment, then both of them burst into laughter.
“I fail to see the issue,” said Hina as she continued to eat the cookies. Honestly, she doubted it would have an effect on her anyway. She was neither pregnant nor nursing. “Actually, you should bring more.”
-
Lynn was furious with her daughter.
Though there wasn’t much she could do in her present state. Most of her time was spent fidgeting and writhing, often cupping at her swollen abdomen. It was huge and tight, her belly button still protruding like an oven timer.
Her face was flushed, her insides gurgling and whining. She was being perpetually stuffed, her belly seeming to get tighter with each passing hour.
It was honestly hard to think. She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving, her eyes darting in varying directions. She felt practically inebriated from the perpetual onslaught of calories.
When the doorbell rang, she wasn’t sure if it had been real or just her imagination.
Nevertheless, she managed to cry out, “The door’s open!”
Lynn had expected it to be Charlotte checking in on her, but instead, an unfamiliar woman with short black hair walked in, carrying a large work bag and a clipboard.
When the woman rounded the couch and saw Lynn sprawled there, she was momentarily startled, her body going rigid. But slowly, she relaxed, shakily reaching down and offering Lynn her hand. “Hi, I’m Sidney, the dietitian? I was sent by the hospital.”
Lynn hated people who made statements in a questioning tone. All the same, she struggled awkwardly to a sitting position, grimacing in discomfort once she was upright. Random spikes of pain hit different parts of her belly. “Hoooo…hooo…” she huffed and puffed, taking her time to let her body relax. Spasms would run through her back, her whole abdomen feeling incredibly tense, sometimes shivering like an overtaxed muscle. She took in several more deep breaths before she could respond. “L-Lynn,” she stammered, not bothering to reciprocate the offer of a handshake.
The dietitian managed to contort her face into a smile. “Care to tell me…a little about what’s been going on?” she said, her gaze sliding down to Lynn’s huge belly, then up again.
It was a struggle for Lynn to catch her breath, let alone produce sentences. “I –erm…” she didn’t think she could explain herself. At least not well. “Just been p-pigging out,” she choked out pathetically. “Metabolism isn’t what it used to be.”
Sidney looked incredulous, if not disturbed.
Lynn’s face was red and sweaty, her chest heaving erratically, her huge belly large enough to perch in her lap. She looked as though she was overdue with triplets, or more.
Despite her extreme discomfort, Lynn managed to nod as Sidney rambled on about protein, exercise, and calories.
“I would also recommend consulting with a therapist,” Sidney said uncomfortably. “Do you have a provider?”
“Yes,” Lynn lied, desperate to get this over with.
Sidney bit her bottom lip and scribbled something on her clipboard. “Well…it was nice meeting you. If you have any questions, my number’s on that pamphlet I gave you.” Again, her gaze darted to Lynn’s midsection, which truly felt as though it was throbbing. Lynn thought it might split apart.
“Thanks,” Lynn squeaked out, her eyes watering.
Sidney forced another of her uncomfortable smiles, heaved the strap of her work bag over her shoulder, and shuffled for the door.
As soon as the door shut behind Sidney, Lynn’s composure dissolved. “Unngghhh…” she groaned, arching her back, tears finally leaking down her cheeks. She was just…so…tight. She spread her thighs, puffing out breaths, probably looking very much like a woman in labor.
Slowly, painstakingly, she eased herself down again, lying sprawled on the couch as her hands cradled her huge orb. She watched it rise and fall with her heavy breathing. She allowed her eyes to drift closed as she hoped for the discomfort to subside.
Minutes slowly crept by, turning into hours as the room progressively darkened. Lynn knew she should have at least gotten up to lock up, maybe head to bed. Instead she stayed put, because she finally felt an inkling of relief, and didn’t want to risk moving. She could tell that her daughter had finally stopped eating. Hopefully, with time, her abdomen would soften a little. She allowed her hands to lightly glide over either side of her belly.
Unexpectedly, the front door opened. “Hina! You home?” called John’s voice.
Lynn blinked rapidly. Against her better judgment, she heaved herself up to a sitting position, looking over the back of the couch at her ex-husband. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh,” said John upon spotting her face. The rest of her body was not visible. “I just wanted to drop off Hina’s math textbook. I know she has a test coming up.”
“I thought Hina was with you.”
“Why would she be with me?” said John.
Lynn was suddenly furious. This was so typical of their daughter. She heaved herself up to her feet without thinking, then folded slightly at the sharp pain the movement yeilded.
“What the fuck,” John snapped in astonishment, gawking at her as he stumbled back a step.
“It’s — a long story,” Lynn managed as she part-waddled, part-staggered towards him. She looked beyond heavily pregnant, her belly blatantly bulging away from her otherwise slim frame. She was wearing a stretchy short-sleeved top that could only pull down as far as her navel, and consistently tried to slide entirely up over her orb. It was paired with shorts that seemed to only emphasize the slimness of her legs, and the feebleness of her frame. She felt terribly imbalanced, her teeth gritting from the effort of approaching her ex-husband. She misjudged her distance, her belly nearly bumping into him.
John took another step back, his eyes practically bulging out of his skull. “How — when —?” he fumbled on his words. He pressed his lips and lightly shook himself, before he took a deep breath and said, “Whose is it?”
“How is that any of your business?” Lynn retorted by impulse. Even though she had meant to explain that she wasn’t, fucking, pregnant. Still, it felt good to taunt John a little.
He just shook his head at her, his face contorted in disgust. “You’re a mess.”
“Thanks for the input,” she seethed back. “On a more relevant note — where is our daughter?”
“How the hell should I know? She’s on your time.”
“John, she’s eighteen. We don’t split custody anymore.”
John was positively glaring at her globe. Every attempt he made to talk seemed to produce irritated snorts and sputtering noises. Finally, he said, “I’ll call around.”
“Start with Stacy,” Lynn suggested, grimacing as she clutched her side.
“You got it, boss,” he said sarcastically.
“John, I’m in no state to—”
“Clearly!” John cut her off, before storming out of the house and slamming the door shut behind him.
