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Short Stacks BCU Special II
🕑 Added 2025-07-09 13:00:17 +0000 UTC
Disclaimer: These stories contain adult themes. They are not suitable for minors or the easily offended.
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This is a collection of flash fiction based on reader prompts.
Contains: Weight Gain
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Short Stacks
BCU Special II
This collection of stories features characters belonging to Bobo the Hobo.
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Flash fiction based on this prompt:
Olivia and Riley, neither gets fat.
Contains: Weight Gain
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Rilivia
Olivia tried not to think too hard about how she ended up here. After all, Riley was the exact type of person she would have hated most in high school. Well, a cheerleader might have been worse. But most cheerleaders were cute, so it was kind of a toss-up. She would have been a jock. A volleyball player, or maybe softball, the kind of person who would hip-check her into her locker and would call anime ‘Chinese cartoons.’
And yet, here she was. Lying on her back, in her bed, her strong, beautiful girlfriend nibbling on the nipple at the end of her tiny breast, her fingers stroking and teasing even better than Olivia could do herself. The pleasure was almost more than she could bear, growing until it reached a crescendo.
“Aaahn!!”
Riley hugged their bodies together, pecking soft kisses up Olivia’s jaw as she climaxed. “I love the cute anime noises you make, Livvy,” she whispered.
Breathing hard, Olivia said, “I don’t know how you’re so good at that.”
“These muscles aren’t just for show,” Riley said. “If you want, I could get you a ‘friends and family’ discount at my gym.”
“I’m good, thanks. I don’t need muscles when I have you around to open pickle jars and fight off gross dudes.”
“Suit yourself.” Riley poked a finger into Olivia’s flat stomach. “I don’t mind having a ‘skinny-fat’ girlfriend.”
“Hey!”
Riley laughed, peppering Olivia’s face and lips with energetic kisses. “Come on, let’s go watch more of that elf show.”
“Do you mean Frieren, or Dungeon Meshi?”
Riley kissed her again. “Nerd.”
Olivia opened her mouth to reply, but Riley was already jumping off the bed and scooping Olivia up in her arms.
“Wha—hey!”
“My poor baby is too weak to walk all that way. You need a big, strong girl to carry you!” Riley carried Olivia in a princess carry out into the living room.
“Put me down, you freak!” Olivia laughed.
***
Avery, Mikayla, Cheyenne, and both Brookes lounged on couches, half-watching The Big Lebowski. Mikayla plucked at her bra through her shirt.
“You having problems over there, Kay-kay?” Avery asked.
“I should just give this one to Goodwill,” Mikayla said. “I think it shrunk in the wash.”
“Yeah… I don’t think that’s what happened,” Cheyenne said.
Mikayla stuck her tongue out at Cheyenne while reaching for another slice of pizza.
Brooke Wider tugged on the waist of her jeans as she said, “You gonna pass that or what?”
Avery took a long hit off the bong and handed it to Brooke. Cheyenne said, “Just unbutton those if you want.”
“Yeah,” Brooke Johnson added, “We’re all adults here. It’s not like those skinny bitches are around to judge us.”
Brooke Wider undid the top button of her jeans; she didn’t want it digging into her belly while she coughed on the smoke.
“There you go,” Avery said. “Next time, wear some leggings.” She patted her own Lycra-clad gut. “You gotta have room for the munchies.”
“That’s right,” Cheyenne said, reaching for more pizza. “Elastic is your friend.”
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Flash fiction based on this prompt:
Hannah and Riley
Contains: Weight Gain
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Hanley
Never let it be said that Hannah Hammond was one to shy away from a challenge. When her daddy insisted that she follow Hammond Hotels’ “Wellness Initiative” and hire a personal trainer for the fitness center, Hannah knew her new employee would be a tough nut to crack. For a while, Riley seemed determined to make Hannah her personal project. As someone with years of experience on the other side of that equation, Hannah knew just how to play the muscly girl to her advantage.
It started with bargaining. Hannah urged Riley to try everything on the menu at her hotel’s restaurant. “Try these fries, you’ll love ‘em! I’ll do twenty extra minutes on the elliptical if you do.”
Honestly, she was surprised she didn’t figure it out sooner. Hannah rarely thought about her looks aside from cosplaying as a normal. Keeping up the illusion of a professional hotel manager made it possible for her to pursue her “personal projects.” But in a hotel full of fatties—glorious, delicious, button-popping fatties—Hannah must have seemed like a ten in the eyes of her sapphic PT.
She was constantly correcting Hannah’s posture and form, resting her hands on her shoulders, arms, or back, and leaving them there longer than was strictly necessary. When Hannah caught Riley staring a little too long at a hotel guest wearing size two jeans, she realized her project was going to be a little less impossible than she thought.
It had taken months. Months of prodding and cajoling, of running, lifting, and sweating. Hannah had to have all her suits adjusted. The skirts got loose, the sleeves got tight. And, if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t hate the results. Her body grew as strong as her mind, and she had near-endless energy to pamper and enable her staff. She could flit around the hotel for hours without getting tired; ogling, encouraging, and enjoying her personal FA’s paradise to the fullest.
And the best part of all, she was winning. Month by month, Riley’s six-pack melted into a soft pot belly. Her chiseled biceps swelled into bingo wings. Powerful thighs and rock-hard ass grew to wobbly tree trunks and a delicious bubble butt.
Riley lay back on a stack of pillows in an Executive Suite. A box of chocolate cupcakes sat beside her on the bed, but the thought of eating more made her queasy. Going up two cup sizes was little consolation when she could barely see Hannah’s head behind the taut dome of her bloated belly.
Hannah’s head popped up. “I don’t hear any chewing.”
“Please, baby,” Riley panted. “I’m so full…”
Hannah put a hand on Riley’s belly, fingers pressing into the soft flesh as she probed. “You don’t feel full to me. I did five extra reps on every machine, just for you. Can’t you do this one teensy, tiny, insignificant little thing for me?”
Riley sighed. She was so close, and it was so hard to reach down there herself now that there was so much more… her in the way. She pulled a cupcake from the box and peeled the paper off.
Hannah stroked Riley’s belly. “That’s my good girl. I’ll keep eating as long as you keep eating.”
Riley bit into the cupcake as Hannah’s head dipped behind her belly. Whether her moans were pleasure or pain, neither woman knew for sure.
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Flash fiction based on this prompt:
Courtney and Piper, bonding over the ability to share their increasingly larger bras
Contains: Weight Gain
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Pipney
Whoever said “opposites attract” must have been talking about personality. Or maybe hair color. Sure, Piper’s hair matched her name while Courtney’s was blonde. And yes, Piper stood half a head taller than her girlfriend. But aside from Courtney’s pants being a little short on Piper, they could have shared clothes. When they first got together, at least. But if anyone ever noticed Piper’s tops and skirts getting a little snug, Courtney was always right behind her. When she wasn’t on top of her, that is.
Sweat dripped from the tip of Courtney’s nose as she arched her back and thrust her hips, driving the large pink strap in and out of Piper. Her belly hung down almost as far as her boobs, and the only reason it didn’t hang farther was because it was pressed upward by her girlfriend’s gut.
“–huff– Are you close?”
“All–haaa– almost!” Piper wheezed.
Courtney kept her rhythm steady, muscles buried deep under layers of jiggling adipose burning in her thighs. Her breasts mashed into Piper’s, and she added a little extra arch to her back until their nipples rubbed together.
Piper held her breath, trembling as she came. Courtney joined her a moment later, and they collapsed into a flabby, sweaty pile of tits and rolls and tree trunk thighs.
Courtney rolled off Piper to sprawl on her back. “Next time –huff– I get to be on bottom.”
“If you –huff– like being crushed, all you have to do is ask,” Piper said, reaching up to kiss Courtney’s lower lip before biting it gently.
Piper rolled off the bed and slid skin-tight leggings up her dimpled knees and wobbling thighs. “Come on, the pizza’s gonna get here soon.”
“What’s your rush? I got contactless delivery.”
“Uh, I’m hungry. Duh.”
“Fine, fine.”
Courtney picked her bra off the floor and got the straps over her shoulders. The band behind her back stopped stretching with over an inch of space between the hooks and eyes. She grunted, straining, and managed to get one hook connected. When she got the other three done up, she couldn’t hold her exhale anymore. Under Courtney’s arm, a bra cup separated from the band with a soft shrip.
“Damnit. That’s the second time this month!”
“What’s wr—“ Piper turned to see Courtney’s left breast sagging out of the destroyed bra. “It’s fine. You can wear one of my old ones.”
“You’re not that much bigger than me,” Courtney shot back.
Piper said nothing as she tossed a bra into Courtney’s lap. Courtney put it on; it was a perfect fit. Piper walked over to inspect it, tugging on the band and slipping a finger into the cup. “Wow, this fits better than I thought. It only got too small for me like a month ago.”
Courtney pulled her shirt over her head. It clung tightly to her massive chest, while the hem rode up over her soft tummy. She smiled smugly up at her girlfriend. “Looks like I’m catching up.”
Piper bent down for another kiss, then shoved Courtney back onto the bed, where she sat with a hard bounce. “Not if I get to the pizza first!”
Piper lumbered out of the bedroom faster than should have been possible. Courtney thudded after her. “Oh no, you don’t!”
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Flash fiction based on this prompt:
A very round woman with that round desk Ron Swanson has to use in that one episode; she’s ok with it because she’s Very Important at her firm, and quite a lot of it is covered in takeout anyway. / Avery becomes the office’s leftover disposal.
Contains: Weight Gain
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Office Avery
Getting promoted to manager of the IT support department at her Yeng branch was a big step forward in Avery’s career. The fancy nameplate, a decent raise, and—best of all—she didn’t have to actually take any of the support calls herself anymore. Her days consisted of sitting at the big desk and making sure everyone else in her department stayed busy. And because her team were all hard workers—and Yeng invested so much in development—that amounted to little more than sitting on her ever-widening ass from nine to five.
Then, as they do, Yeng upgraded all the office furniture. The triple-reinforced extra-wide desk chairs were welcomed not only by Avery but the entire IT support department, none of whose clothes lacked at least one X on their tags. The cubicle desks were mostly the same, just with better drawer sliders and soft-closes. The manager’s desk, however, was a full-circle command station with a lift-up section of the top for Avery to climb into the damn thing.
At first, Avery hated her new desk. She’d never been thin in her life, but five years in a sedentary office job had grown her rolling belly and thunder thighs to truly massive proportions. Her desk had no drawers–she couldn’t have squeezed a hand between her gut and the desktop anyway—so what little actual work she did was performed on a yPad, often propped on her zaftig zeppelins. With a circular desk and a spinning chair, Avery needed only to shuffle her piggy feet on the pointless fatigue mat to rotate her bulk in one direction or the other if she ever needed to address a team member.
Not that this was a common occurrence because, again, her team was very good at their jobs, and their jobs were only slightly more demanding than Avery’s own. But unlike Avery, most of the IT support department made futile, token efforts to fight their rising size. A few took up walking to lunch or requesting standing desks, but the most common practice of delusional “healthy choices” was to offer lunch leftovers to the rest of the office.
“I put two pork sliders in the fridge if anyone wants them.”
“Leftover pizza in the break room.”
“Half an order of orange chicken, help yourselves.”
Naturally, the vain idiots in Avery’s department were too prissy and proud to take advantage of these free leftovers. That left Avery to take care of it all herself.
After barely a week of extricating herself from her battle station to waddle to the break room fridge and back, Avery put in a maintenance request to get a microwave installed at the back of her circle desk. That way, whenever an employee came by with a clamshell or oyster pail from lunch, or a Tupperware from home, she’d wave a plump hand for them to bring it straight to her dais.
With 360 degrees of movement, Avery could spend her whole shift grabbing one container, spinning to the microwave, and munching with one hand while playing solitaire on her tablet. If her belly was starting to rub against the round desk when she spun, well, that was Yeng’s problem.
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Flash fiction based on this prompt:
A very fat lady who thinks being super busty makes up for having arms almost as big as her boobs
Contains: Weight Gain
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Proportions
Piper wiggled in the cramped dinette booth as she reached for her triple-bacon cheeseburger.
“Is that your third burger?” Dakota asked.
“Yeah, wha’ ov it?” Piper asked through a mouthful of food.
“You don’t think you’re overdoing it a bit?”
Piper swallowed, then scoffed. “The women in my family have always been big eaters.”
Dakota put a hand on her own rounded belly, which, though not trying to eat the tabletop like her friend’s, was inching a little closer toward the Formica surface every time they ate at Big Daddy’s. “I mean, I’m in no position to judge. But after loaded fries and a milkshake, just one of those burgers is gonna have me napping the rest of the day.”
“You’re just jealous of my curves,” Piper mumbled as she took another bite.
Dakota fumed. Piper wasn’t wrong, but it was still a low blow. While every spare pound Dakota put on since moving from Texas seemed determined to settle in her hips, ass, and belly, her new friend had the tits to match her bodacious personality. It was the same with her mom and older sister; they were a whole family of hungry tit-monsters.
If she had boobs half the size of Piper’s, Dakota would have to order bras online. But that didn’t mean her friend wasn’t also straight-up fat. Her ass took up almost the whole dinette bench, her thighs touched all the way to her knees, and Dakota was willing to bet she’d have to help Piper extract her belly from the booth by the time she was finally done eating.
“Rude…” Dakota muttered.
“Sorry, babes,” Piper said, “I just call ‘em like I see ‘em. It takes lots to keep a set of girls like these well-fed.” Emphasizing her words, Piper cupped one of her tits with a free hand. At least, she would have cupped a breast half the size of the ones she’d grown. On Piper, it was more of a shove and a heave.
Dakota resisted the urge to look down at her own paltry B-cups. Giant boobs or not, Piper was still a fat blob. Her upper arms were almost as big as her tits, for chrissake!
As expected, Piper could not climb out of the booth under her own power. Dakota grunted, using her own weight as leverage to yank on Piper’s hands as her friend’s flabby arms trembled.
“I –huff– told you not to –hng– eat so much!”
“Just hush up and –grr– pull harder!”
When Piper finally slid free, she teetered on her feet, threatening to fall on top of Dakota. The pear-shaped girl saw her short life flash before her eyes, but the pair managed to stay upright.
Piper pushed both glass doors open to fit out of the diner. As Dakota followed her slow, waddling gait down the sidewalk, Piper said, “Let’s get ice cream!”
“You seriously want to eat more?”
Piper patted her distended upper belly. “Always.”
“You’re gonna need one of those scooters to get around if you keep this up.”
Piper shrugged, sending every curve and swell and roll wobbling. “Big tits; don’t care.”
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Flash fiction based on this prompt:
Daven’s Port: Old West edition
Contains: Weight Gain
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Daven’s River
Hannah wiped the dust from her collection of whiskey bottles behind the bar while Kayla clinked out ragtime on an out-of-tune piano. Running a business in the frontier was not for the faint of heart, but business was booming in the Hammond Saloon. There was gold in them there hills, as the saying went, and that gold brought plenty of business her way.
“Another whiskey, please, Miss Hannah,” said a man with scraggly hair and a beard that had never seen a bar of soap.
“Comin’ right up, Elsworth!”
Hannah poured a shot from a brown bottle and slid it down the bar to the man. All the while, her eyes kept drifting to the balcony above. Speaking of business booming, a more literal booming came from the creaky plank stairs.
She could still remember the day the pair arrived in camp. A loudmouthed woman even taller than she and a short brunette who barely got a word in edgewise. The tall one had a pair on her so big that Hannah almost offered her a job with her “girls” on the spot, while the short one carried so much booty she probably didn’t need a saddle. Piper and Dakota were Hannah’s favorite customers.
Hannah called across the saloon, “Good morning, ladies!” She resisted the urge to lick her lips. Like most, Piper and Dakota had come to camp to prospect, but their claim had yet to pay out. In an extremely rare act of charity, Hannah let them stay in their room on credit and covered their ever-increasing tab at what passed for a seamstress shop in this godless place.
Once a statuesque, dark-haired beauty, Piper was spilling out of her newest dress. And not just out the front of her corset with those fat, luscious tits. As the pair huffed and wheezed in their waddle down the stairs, Hannah thought she could hear the stays on Piper’s corset screaming in protest. Even through her loose skirts, Hannah could tell that Piper’s ass was bigger now than Dakota’s had been when they first arrived.
Dakota, meanwhile, had absolutely exploded under Hannah’s “care.” Her backside was twice what it’d once been, and between the stair slats, Hannah could see little pillows of fat bulging from the laces in her corset. Heavens above, Hannah thought. Even her back is getting fat.
“‘Morning –huff– Miss Hannah,” Piper wheezed. “We’re gonna –huff– go out to our claim today.”
“So early?” Hannah asked with syrupy concern. “Ought’n you get some breakfast in ye first?”
An angry grumble came from the barrel of Dakota’s belly.
Piper glanced out at the sunlit thoroughfare through the swinging saloon doors, then over at the dining room.
Hannah stepped out from behind the bar and walked up to her obese patrons. “Come on, now. You can’t work a claim on an empty stomach.”
It took no effort at all for Hannah to steer the two women into the dining room. Piper dropped her bottom into a wooden chair that creaked loudly under her bulk. A soft pop told Hannah the tall woman had just broken one of the stays on her corset. Maybe she’ll break a few more before lunch.
As Dakota steered her backside toward another chair, Hannah quickly slid a second chair beside it. The woman had a rump like a buffalo—a single chair simply wasn’t up to the job.
“I’ve got gravy going,” Hannah said. “And the biscuits should be just about ready. You ladies eat up now, y’hear?”
