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(What's in this: XXSSBBWs eating hundreds of people and gaining massive amounts of weight)

“Rise and shine, fellow workers. Another day of service is beginning, so shake off that sleepiness and get to work.

“As you can see on your video feeds, our twin Goddesses are covering all four time zones of America, reaching as far north as the Arctic circle and down to the Panama canal. And they are now awaiting their next proper meal.”

Almost a quarter of the globe was covered in two continent-sized masses colored the same shade of brown, the hills and ridges so numerous they defied counting. Their motion was as constant as the surface of the oceans they were currently displacing, waves of flab cresting and splashing down on further rolls of female tonnage. The only way one knew there were two women instead of one was the separate points of centrality where the rising mountains of fat met the numerous pipes and chutes converging at the goddesses’ heads.

All day and all night the feeding machines were operated by millions of servants; food, livestock and fattened humans sent tumbling down to the twins’ perpetually waiting mouths, to be swallowed and join the truckloads of food already being digested in their bellies. This was augmented by cargo planes flying low and dumping their contents to the mix; sometimes it was preprocessed food, sometimes it was dozens of people tumbling through the air and landing in a pile on a smiling mouth the size of a large pond.

There would be some scrambling, men and women trying to climb over each other to get away from the maw sucking everything down, but then another flood of syrup or sauce would pour out of one of the pipes, making them and everyone else slippery, and they were sent sliding into the darkness. The goddess’ eyes would watch all this, and her smile would grow a little wider.

At hourly intervals the pace of feeding was sped up to silence the booming growls of their stomachs. Historians might recall the last time either of the twins had been properly full, unable to eat another morsel, but such things no longer happened.

Across the shrinking Pacific there was an equally large mountain of woman, her skin lighter than the twins’ but the span of her flesh and the pull of her influence stretching across Asia. And down south the twins’ mother had been relocated to Chile, the outer reaches of her belly dipping into the ocean and the far end of her butt reaching miles inland. She was only a fraction the size of the three goddesses, but she was still pampered and perpetually fed just like them.

This was the state of the world today. All other voracious appetites, potential rivals to the goddesses, had been sacrificed to the true gluttons, fueling their growth and further establishing their dominance over all the underfed, willowy mortals. Seasons passed, years came and went, but the only thing that truly changed was that the goddesses grew fatter and hungrier. Always bigger, always demanding more.


Naomi was awoken by a pair of deep rumblings that first made her think of an earthquake, until she recognized it as the sound of her own belly mirrored by her sister Eva’s equally titanic (and equally needy) gut.

This had the effects of an earthquake, though; a minor one, at least. As their stomachs grumbled the deep bass sound sent their bodies shaking and jiggling, and when over seven tons of fat got to moving everything around them did. The house Naomi was occupying started rocking back and forth, dust and pieces of plaster from the ceiling raining down onto her exposed skin.

Outside, the sonic waves of their rumbling tummies set off car alarms and scattered birds that had been roosting serenely in trees and on power lines. Up and down the block neighbors were woken up and morning routines were halted as the presence of the twins was broadcast throughout the neighborhood.

Just another morning for everyone involved.

“Good dream?” Naomi heard her sister ask. She grabbed the small phone she had clipped to the scarf that served as her neckband (with so many chins they weighed as much as a small child the young woman was long past having a neck to speak of) and set it to two-way.

“They always are. Dreamed about subjugating the world and getting fed 24-7. You?”

“I was already planet-sized in mine.”

“And I wasn’t there?” Naomi feigned being hurt.

“You were, but I wasn’t looking in your direction. I just wanted to focus on my meal.”

Naomi chuckled.

“Time for some real food, though. I’m going to head to Le Pain.”

“Suit yourself. I think I’ll head for the mall. The guy running the Cinnabon owes me for not eating him last week.”

Naomi got to her feet, but it didn’t look like she did. She, like her sister, was so fat she was beached on the ground at all times. Her belly, her hips, her butt; all settled in whatever place she happened to stop at the moment. When she sat down – that is, when she eased her weight back and lifted her feet off the ground – she didn’t sink lower.

And then she left the house she was occupying – it sat behind her childhood home, emptied of its former residents by the greedy woman with the front entrance blown apart by her own fat, much as her mother had annexed their neighbor’s house when she had outgrown the old two-story abode – and walked out into the street, an act that could not go ignored as it defied all appearances.

Her head, arms and shoulders looked extremely fat, of course, but they were comically miniscule compared to the yards of fat radiating outward. She had full mobility of her arms, she could turn her head (despite it’s many chins) this way and that and even look over her shoulder. Though all she saw was the rising moon of her behind.

But the rest of her... the rest of her was so big and round one had to think she was immobile. She was bigger in the belly than she was tall, her hips reaching out twice as far as her armspan and her butt covering more ground than a normal woman would lying down. Even if there was a bodybuilder’s physique buried under all that tonnage, it seemed unfathomable that someone could move all that flesh to walk.

The key to Naomi’s mobility lay in the elasticity of her fat. As firm as it was, it also had the unique ability to store kinetic energy and dispel it such that her body ‘bounced’ off the ground or off walls and other obstructions in minute expressions that looked so much like she was riding a wave of fat perpetually crashing and rebounding down the street. Her flab never got so wild as to seem like she was out of control; it was more like a constant ripple accompanying the waddle that her sizable thighs forced on her gait.

Naomi did not understand any of this on a level deeper than intuitive. As she had exploded with fat over the past year and a half she had adapted to her growing size with the single-minded goal of maintaining her ability to move about and feed herself. Through trial and error she had found that lifting her belly with her arms was too much work, but with just a little build-up of movement she could become as ambulatory as someone a hundredth her size.

There were physicists and engineers who would give an arm and a leg to study the properties of Eva or Naomi’s fat, if only they weren’t more likely to lose their lives entirely getting too close to them. Because it took a lot of food to satisfy her hunger at this size, and unless you caught the young woman after she had had a particularly filling meal you would attract her attention for all the wrong reasons.

This problem in keeping herself fed was on Naomi’s mind as she headed for the grocery near her house this morning. As she walked down the street people could see her coming from a block or more away, and they made sure to get out of her way. She, like her sister and best friend, took pride in being able to manage on her own; she had met other women online who had settled into a passive feeding system, letting their lovers provide food for them or intimidating others into helping them. At her size it would be all too easy to threaten a few people and turn them into her servants.

But she liked the hands-on approach. She was an independent woman.

And not everyone was lucky enough to see her coming, of course. There were people exiting buildings or walking around corners, right into Naomi’s waiting hands. Just as she could move around despite her size, she was still capable enough at pouncing across her own belly and snatching people up. It broke the flow of her walking, and she needed to work to get her fat ‘bouncing’ again, but it was always worth it. A bigger belly demanded bigger meals, and nothing was as big as a full-grown person.

By the time Naomi got to Le Pain she had a few hundred pounds of meat squirming around inside her. A good appetizer, but it was only a start.

Le Pain was set up like an old-fashioned grocer, with boxes of fruit and vegetables set up outside the door. The man who owned the shop was arranging a display of flowers when Naomi appeared. He gulped when he saw the young glutton approaching, but would not meet her eyes as she got closer.

“Morning,” Naomi said, a single nod to cordiality before she commenced with ruining the man’s business. She grabbed the boxes of produce and poured their contents into her mouth one after another, swallowing the mounds in single gulps. When she had eaten the sidewalk displays she shoved her way into the store proper, her fat filling the doublewide doors and pinching as she squeezed through.

Once inside she methodically, and thoroughly, demolished the rest of the store’s selection. Row by row she grabbed everything off the shelves, tore open the packaging and dumped everything into her mouth. She went behind the display counter and pulled out the specially made cakes. She went into the cooler and ate the frozen racks of ribs and sides of beef. She even grabbed the candy bars near the register and leisurely unwrapped them.

When she left the grocery, her belly no longer so empty but not close to being full, the shopkeep watched her leave. He said nothing, made no threat to call the police. It wasn’t worth it.


“It wasn’t worth it,” Naomi said later that afternoon, griping about her puny breakfast. “I caught a few other people off-guard after I left, so I wasn’t in danger of starving, but it takes so much work to get a decent meal these days. Keiko, I thought the Triad was supposed to be feeding us better than this.”

Keiko, just as large as the twins at almost 15,000 pounds (rather smaller in the belly and much, much bigger in the butt), jostled her own belly unhappily.

“I never said we’d be fed every day. I mean, yeah, I thought they’d be more efficient about getting us food, but I guess my time in Shanghai spoiled me.”

“Yeah, you said you were eating every day,” Eva griped. When she said ‘eating’ she meant ‘really eating,’ a minimum of several hundred pounds of food at a time. When Keiko had come back from her summer job she had bragged about eating roomfuls of people morning and night.

Now the Triad members working with Keiko couldn’t scrounge up people for the trio to eat more than three times a week. At best.

“Different circumstances,” the Asian immigrant explained. “In Shanghai there’s more people than you can keep track of, people would go missing all the time. Here... This city’s always been kind to girls like us, but we can’t make hundreds disappear in a couple days without raising eyebrows.

“Plus the Triad’s slowing down their expansion right now. With the Rossini family gone they want to focus on consolidating their power before making a play on one of the other families. And part of that involves avoiding any attention from the police or FBI.”

“So we’re on our own,” Naomi said sadly. Her belly grumbled, expressing her dour mood better than her facial features did.

“Damn it,” Eva said, angrier than her sister, “We came this far, got this fat, and now we have to do everything ourselves if we want to get fatter? Hell, just to avoid losing any weight?”

“It’s not all bad,” Keiko replied. “I called you two because there is a potential meal I just found out about...”


The footage coming live from the march was no different than so many other protests over the past few years. Hundreds of people filling the street, walking in a slow, steady pace; many held signs, most of them relevant to the reason for the march but a few trying to leech attention to their bearer’s pet cause.

The make-up of the marchers was diverse in race, gender, age, and even size. Women weighing a few hundred pounds or even bigger marched alongside those who had seemingly never given in to their deeper hunger. Many of the people looked askance at the fatter women, some avoiding getting too close entirely, but most of them had no trouble linking the proverbial arm with them.

It was surprising considering that this march was assembled in protest of the city’s lax voring laws. The hundreds gathered today were showing their support for proposed legislation to restrict acts of vore to two a week, with women weighing above a certain threshold required to register with the city and submit themselves to spot inspections and weekly weigh-ins to make sure they were not eating their fellow citizens too often.

“There are more larger women than I was expecting,” Rod Lee, anchor for KGTN news commented. “Do you think they’re ex-preds, motivated by guilt?”

His co-anchor, Elena Juarez, maintained her professional demeanor despite the baiting tone to his question. At 800 pounds herself Elena enjoyed a proper meal now and then, but she had always been a mature and reliable member of the KGTN news crew, never allowing her appetite to interfere with her work.

It didn’t stop people like Rod from shaming her when they could, however. Inhaling slowly, her belly filling her blue blazer and revealing another inch of cleavage, she calmly replied

“I can’t say for certain, Rod. Some women do vore less as they get older, though they don’t usually turn around and condemn the practice entirely. It’s a little hypocritical, after all.”

“It’s hypocritical to respect life, and to expect others to?” Rod retorted.

Elena was trying to think of a reply that wouldn’t be too heated when she noticed something in the feed.

“Harley,” signaling the on-the-scene reporter watching from an office balcony, “why is the march leaving Concord Boulevard?”

The march had started at Tristan Square and had headed for city hall, a straight shot down Concord Boulevard. But now the people were being guided down a sidestreet.

“It looks like an 18-wheeler was attempting to turn off of Wapping Street before it stalled or got stuck on an embankment. The march is taking a detour.”

As Elena opened her mouth to ask another question Harley half-shouted

“Wait! Something’s happening at the head of the march.” Her voice dropped as she turned to her cameraman. “Get a shot over there.”

Later reports would make sense of the chaos unfolding at the front of the herd, and fill in details explaining why things happened as they did. The on-the-spot commentary from Harley Tetch was, for the first few minutes, simple stream-of-conscious rambling best summed up at the outset

“They’re eating the marchers. There’s two of them- No, three. Three enormous women, I don’t know how they can walk, there’s three of them and they’re eating all the marchers.”

On the ground itself there was a lot more noise, a lot more surprise and outright panicking, and far, far less understanding of what was happening. The drama unfolding was not complicated, but it happened so fast that confusion came before the facts could.

What was happening was, as Harley had said, three enormous women were eating the protestors. Eva and Naomi were at the head of the march, and Keiko had brought up the rear.

The question of how over 23 combined tons of gluttony could seemingly pop out of nowhere was answered by the 18-wheelers that had blocked off Concord and the adjoining street the marchers had taken as a detour. After the protestors had been herded from the main street, and after the street behind them had been blocked off by other trucks, but before anyone could realize the protestors had all been effectively trapped, the twins and their friend had sprung their trap. The sides of three of the trucks had blown off the bed, revealing the gluttons waiting inside.

The sheer scale of the trap had helped to prevent anyone spotting it before hand. Vans blocking alleyways, business doors locked and windows shuttered in advance of a large protest march; these were so mundane no one thought anything of it. But that every conceivable exit for three blocks in an L-shape could be blocked off was so thorough no one considered it.

No one would notice how ably the Triad members had prepared the trap until after all was said and done. Post-operation there would be a swarm of reporters and camerapeople arriving to document the scene of the feast, some openly admiring how efficiently it had all been done.

Right now there were only two thoughts on the scene: for the twins and Keiko it was the simple ‘Eat eat eat’ chants going through their subconscious minds as they grabbed and snarfed everyone around them. For the protestors it was ‘Get out of here!’

But this is where the pincer attack from the three joined the blockades to prevent this. Those at the front saw Eva and Naomi and decided that turning around was the way out. Those at the back saw Keiko and the 18-wheeler she had come out of and decided that forward was the way out. The two parts of the crowd crashed into one another, sowing confusion that sprouted into anger and self-preservation that became shoving and fighting.

And more eating. As the unity of the protest march broke down more than a few heftier women decided to get in on the fun themselves. Some did so because the sight of the three uber-gluttons dispelled any guilt or shame they felt, and some did so because they hoped that getting too fat to seize would keep them out of the bellies of the other women.

Thanks to the sheer size of the buffet they were allowed to hold this delusion for quite a while. As Keiko and the twins gobbled up the people directly around them, the smaller women pulled back well out of reach and set about stuffing their own bellies. They ate past their limits, forcing as much into their bellies as they could manage because stomachaches were preferable to ending up on the menu.

But they had their own limits all the same. One by one the ‘tiny’ gluttons ran out of room, regardless of how secure they felt, and were left standing or sitting in place, watching one of the three uber-gluttons get closer and hoping they had done enough to save themselves.

The last to reach her limit was a blonde woman over on Keiko’s side, her belly settled on the ground and rising higher than her head. She weighed 500 pounds before, and had more than that crammed into her gut now. Surely she would be safe, right?

With trepidation she watched Keiko advance on her position, using her girth to block people from getting past her or occasionally swinging her hips around to knock people back. It wasn’t hard to keep the people at the front of the throng off their feet when there were still others behind them, pushing them forward.

The Asian’s belly swelled wider, bigger and higher, until she had to turn to the side to see around herself, her butt and belly working in tandem to prevent anyone from getting past her. Yet her mobility was as good as it had ever been.

When she got to the blonde ‘tiny’ glutton the smaller woman caught her eye, and for a fraction of a second she thought she detected respect in the bigger woman’s expression.

She was wrong. Keiko wouldn’t acknowledge her as an equal in a million years, and her hopes of ‘too big to swallow’ were dashed as soon as she felt the Asian’s grip on her own upper arm, yanking her closer.

Keiko ate her head first. It took a lot of gulping and shoving and squeezing to get that belly down her own throat, but Keiko was far from full. Blondie was just one more dish in her current feast.

Eating this one woman was the first real pause in her chow down, and it wouldn’t be the last. The other tiny gluttons all required more time to swallow than their skinnier counterparts. It was during these lulls that the few survivors of the ordeal managed to escape, the nimbler and more agile people (not yet trampled or otherwise injured) climbing up to fire exits or into second-story windows.

When Keiko and the twins realized a few people had gotten away they were oddly not bothered by it. True, a clean sweep would have made this day legendary, but having eyewitnesses live to tell about the day (and invariably inflate what had happened) led to even more esteem and admiration raining down on the three when news of this went around the world.

It took the better part of an hour for the three to work their way through the hundreds of people, the KGTN feed joined by other news shows. The commentary never reached Pulitzer level, or even local Emmy level; it was, to the end, a loose series of ‘My god’s and ‘How are they still eating?’s.

After the last tiny glutton was eaten the trio talked amongst themselves for a moment (on their phones, since having bellies bigger than the rest of them made it a wee bit impractical to meet face to face), Naomi stretching her arms as she yawned, and then they returned to the trucks that had brought them there. Their bellies and butts sagged off the sides of the truck beds, but the engines had enough power to just barely manage with their weight.

There were no police on the scene yet (oddly, they had all be caught up in responding to other emergencies in other parts of the city when this had started; or so they would say later) and none of the news reporters wanted to follow the trucks as they left. More than a few pointedly did not track the vehicles as they left, in the name of not becoming part of the story.

It was almost as if the three vanished as cleanly as they had arrived. And though it would not have been hard to identify the trio (just by their girth alone), subsequent reports of the incident would fail to include any names or descriptions.


“It looks like what had meant to be a stand against acts of voring has instead turned into a legendary, some would say inspirational, eating event.”

When the KGTN feed cut back to Elena in the studio none of the viewers who had been glued to their TVs noticed how much bigger her belly was swollen now, nor the absence of Rod.

“Now our attention turns to more practical matters, like how soon the trucks stalled on Concord can be moved and traffic can resume...”


And what of the three stars of the whole affair? How does one return to normal life after enjoying a feast for the ages?

For Keiko it was easy. Despite gaining over five and a half more tons once she had digested everything, putting her over the 26,000 pound line, her home was big enough for her now description-defying body. It took some time getting used to the much larger figure she had to put into motion and then navigate, but with her center of gravity still low and most of her mass behind her walking came to her swiftly.

Eva and Naomi had a harder time of it. While still in the middle of their meal they knew they were going to outgrow the houses they were occupying back in their original neighborhood. The amount of wall-smashing it would take to make their abodes accessible would do too much damage to the structural integrity of the entire building.

They needed to find larger houses to take over, and fortunately for them their home city had a large gated community not far from where Keiko lived. This would make it easy for the three to get together for future meals (even if they, sadly, weren’t destined to be as large as their latest one).

There was a literal gate, of course, but thirteen tons of bouncing, kinetically-charged fat wasn’t going to be stopped by mere iron. Eva, always the more forceful of the two, took the lead, running into the gate and breaking it off its hinges as neatly as someone walking through a large sheet of paper. The security guard on duty had seen them approaching, but had wisely left the guard shack and backed away when he saw the behemoth beauties bearing down on him.

“The bigger houses are down the road,” he told them, keeping his distance. “Turn left on Meadowlark.”

They followed the directions to a cul-de-sac with only three McMansions situated on it. They were all three stories tall, but more importantly they were as wide as a small office building. Four car garages sat next to expansive living rooms looking out on lawns as big as city parks.

They each picked a house and barreled through the front door, taking out the windows and most of the wall of the living room with it. Then they shuffled around, using their fat to knock all the furniture and other obstructions like stairwells and non-load bearing walls out of the way.

Once they had enough space to stretch out and relax laid out, they got comfortable. All that moving around, and they hadn’t even had a chance to digest their lunch yet.

“Um, excuse me.”

Naomi opened her eyes. She must have dozed off, the sun was dropping below the horizon.

There was an older woman standing in what had once been a doorway. Now it was just part of the wider hole Naomi would use to enter and exit. Standing a little behind her was a teenage girl. Both of them were downright reedy.

“I don’t want to make a scene, but this is my house...”

Naomi yawned and stretched, waking herself up. She was so much bigger than she had been earlier today. Not just wider, with her hips and butt breaking down walls she hadn’t been touching when she had fallen asleep. She felt taller. It was actually confusing to be looking over her belly now, until she tried to plant her feet on the ground and she realized her butt and belly had grown so fat they had lifted her off the floor.

“Shut up and get me some food,” she said, rubbing her belly. “It’s almost dinnertime.”

And her belly growled in agreement, so deep and so loud the house quaked. Windows rattled, China was shaken off a hutch and crashed to the ground. The teen grew pale, and her mother grew more timid.

“Get going!” Naomi said, putting some anger into her words. The fact that she probably couldn’t lunge at them – could she ever get back to moving on her own, she wondered – didn’t matter. She was so immense, and her tone and expression so mighty, that the peons in front of her didn’t question the sense of danger they felt.

The two almost ran off, not saying another word. Naomi briefly worried they were going to bring the police or some other authorities, then decided no. If they were going to call the cops they wouldn’t have woken her up.

Besides, what could the police do to a woman as large as her?

“Hey, sis,” her phone buzzed, “That your belly?”

“Yeah. I just woke up from a nap.”

“I saw those two running out of there. You tell them to bring you some food?”

“I told them. Don’t know if they will. Or if they do, if they’ll bring me enough.”

“Yeah. The guy who owns this place had to make five trips before he realized just how hungry I can get. I had to eat his trophy wife to teach him a lesson.”

“He give you any crap after that?”

“Hell no, he’s completely cowed. He called a cattle ranch and is arranging to bring a few steers out here. I can tell him to order a few for you, if you want.”

“Thanks, I might need that.” She thought for a moment. “Guess we do need to get in the habit of having others feed us, don’t we?”

“Why not? Beats going out to grab people ourselves. Plus we’ll never get as big as we can if we don’t get some helpers, right? Remember those dreams we have?”

“As if I’m going to forget them,” Naomi smiled. She had never really thought that those dreams could come true, but at her current size she saw herself having an overwhelming aura; nobody could not be intimidated by her, brought into line as a servant.

Maybe ‘goddess sized’ didn’t have to just be a wild daydream she shared with Eva and Keiko.
Going out with a bang, here's the last story featuring Eva, Naomi and Keiko.
Add a Comment:
NOOOO I love these three! no more stories with the three great gluttons (sniff) well there is still more vore stories out there but non as great as the Vorelandia these three girls came from
Adipose-Rex Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
There comes s point where you have to let things go.
true so I guess the biggining of this story tells the ending?
Adipose-Rex Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Biggining? Yes.
I actually didn't mean for that pun but then I just rolled with it
Adipose-Rex Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
It works.
steam-dieselpunkpunk Featured By Owner Nov 3, 2018
it works so well
deviantfan16 Featured By Owner Mar 28, 2018
It's sad but inevitable to see the voracious escapades of these 3, but it was a spectacular send off.
Adipose-Rex Featured By Owner Mar 28, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
deviantfan16 Featured By Owner Mar 28, 2018
You are welcome my good tubby king
RequiemBlockerHL Featured By Owner Mar 27, 2018
I have to say this is bittersweet as all endings are with characters that one enjoys reading.

You did a great job of ending their stories with their dreams of the future. It gives those of us who want to see the, somewhat cliche (can such niche fetishes have cliches?), omni-gluttons a glimpse into the inevitable future of the characters, but lets you still finish the story in a more "grounded" portion of their story.

I also think you did well with the main event and its framing. The nature of the parade, combined with a tried and true predator tactic just on a larger scale worked really well. And the way the conclusion slides into the nature of their dreams and the aggressive domination of others was good.

Have you ever commissioned art of these characters? I've seen Melody by Saxxon, and I wonder if there's any rendition of the twins and Keiko someplace.
Adipose-Rex Featured By Owner Mar 27, 2018  Hobbyist Writer

And yeah, I got one picture of the trio from Kids These Days 2. ‘Always a Bigger Fish.’ Got it in my gallery.
Rambodog121 Featured By Owner Mar 27, 2018
Wow. I imagine their dreams aren't just gonna be dreams for very long at this rate.
Adipose-Rex Featured By Owner Mar 27, 2018  Hobbyist Writer
Probably not
Rambodog121 Featured By Owner Mar 27, 2018
I just read the description, aww.

Ah well, it was fun reading about these three while it lasted.
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Submitted on
March 27, 2018
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