Breakfast With Bea (Patreon)

Lavender stared. 

She knew that she shouldn’t, but her vision was filled with fluff, colored pale blue in the light of the television. Some asinine noise leaked out of the speakers on the television, a sort of musical barking while a little chubby avatar plodding around with heavy footfalls, but Lavender hardly heard it.

She was too busy staring at the girl who filled out the extra-large loveseat.

“Do you wanna see the dress shop? It’s really nic… oh… um… that’s probably closed, too.” Bea said in a tiny voice.

The college brunette was gaining weight by the day. Hell, by the minute. She was surrounded by snack wrappers, empty takeout boxes, even a couple discarded pizza boxs set beneath a short stack of three bowls, still flecked with the messy remains of several ice cream runs. It was like her appetite had quintupled in just a few months. 

Not even two years ago, Bea could do a front flip! Now, the young woman looked like she couldn’t touch her fat piggy toes. Her pink shirt was lifted up to her navel, causing  a little flower decal set at her center to appear slovenly pinched. Her leggings would have looked tight on a girl that was one hundred pounds smaller, but Bea had the benefit of an ass that was larger than the cushions, hiding her deep in the marks of her chair. 

“Bea,” Lavender asked, finally finding her voice. “That shirt… is that the same one when you took me to pick up this game?”

“Hmm?” Bea didn’t even look away from the screen. “Oh, umm, yes. I think so.”

“You… think? Have you changed?”

That pulled her back, recognizing the patience in Lavender’s tone. “Oh, umm, I have not. No.”

Lavender blinked. “Bea? Have you been playing this since you got it?”

Bea’s large eyes went down to her hands. “Oh, no no. No, I’ve had to charge the joy-cons a few times,” she shook the little red and blue controllers. The fat in her arms slapped against her round sides, and Lavender marveled as the jiggling spread over her entire body. “They don’t have a lot of battery.”

She turned back to the system and began plodding around in the moonlit forest. Lavender had to admit, the avatar was pretty spot on. It had giant blue eyes and rosy pink cheeks, but Lavender wondered if there was a weight option, because Bea’s was clearly wrong. 

The little Bea on the television summoned a pole and used it to leap over a rushing river. Lavender turned back to the real life mammoth and pictured the avatar’s stick snapping in half beneath her butterball weight.

But then, the very act of the avatar running was incorrect. Bea had once told Lavender that she believed growing up was slowly learning that you never ran anywhere. 

Still, Lavender reeled. It couldn’t be true. Because here Bea was. Yes, she was surrounded by greasy, sticky, sugary filth. Yes, she looked like another few pounds and she could replace the chair with her pillow-thick thighs. But her skin was pure, her hair was dark, her face was clean and she wore a tiny, simple smile.

Lavender cleared her throat. “Bea… that was over a week ago.”

Bea blinked at her. She turned back to the screen, then back to Lavender. “It… hasn’t been that long, has it?”

A brilliant chime came from the speakers, and both girls turned to the television. As it faded to black before opening on a small yellow dog. A textbox appeared, reading ‘Good morning, everyone! Right now, on Fulsome Resort, it’s 5:00 AM on Tuesday, April 1st, 2020.’

“Didn’t this game come out on the 20th?” Lavender asked.

“I-i-it… umm…” Bea’s face screwed up very uncomfortably. “It did…”

Lavender and her stared at each other for a couple of moments before Bea then asked.

“Is it really April…? Does this mean Spring Break is almost over?”

Lavender pursed her lips. “It means that you need a shower.” She came forward, reaching for Bea’s little paws. “Come on, we can use the girls’ bath. I’ll get you breakfast, too, if you don’t fall asleep on me before then.”

Bea had barely taken Lavender’s hands when her wide tummy rumbled hungrily. She looked down at herself, her face as pink as a rounded peach. “I must have not noticed…”

Lavender had to use all of her own considerable weight, leaning back and tugging to pull Bea free. The obese woman seemed to hardly even notice the effort, and Lavender suspected she wasn’t making any moves to stand. 

“I haven’t eaten in nearly a week?” Bea asked herself. Her bushy brown hair waggled. “That doesn’t sound right at all…”

Lavender looked at the scraps that surrounded them. She figured, for most girls at Fulsome, it was around a week’s supply. But for girls like Bea… Lavender suddenly felt worried that Bea really might have been fasting while playing, which was an awkward thought considering the greasy pizza box that knocked into her leg.

“Come on,” Lavender prompted. “I’ll make us some cinnamon rolls first. Then to the baths.”

“And then breakfast, after?” Bea asked innocently.

Lavender sighed, mourning her own stomach. “Okay. Then breakfast after.”

Bea bounced like an exercise ball. “Yay,” she cheered. “Can we can get pancakes and waffles? I want to get some fresh cream from the shop.”

“Yes, that works,” Lavender nodded, already picturing Bea sucking down another can of whipped cream. “Then, when we get back, you can show me your… who is that?”

“Hmm? Oh!” Bea grinned. “I was skipping Isabelle’s dialogue. This is my house, and this is my neighbor!”

Bea’s avatar hurried up to a fatty, pink pig. The animal had long eyelashes to show she was a girl and wide blue eyes. Over a round torso, she wore a pink shirt with a white daisy stretched over her chest.

“Her name’s Gala!” Bea said excitedly. “Isn’t she cute?”

Lavender turned back, looking at her own fat piggy’s pink shirt. Bea’s belly sagged over her pants, forcing the leggings down near her swollen hips. Her light stretchmarks were illuminated in the dark glow and, over her breasts, the white daisy looked in danger of tearing straight down the center.

“Her house is so cute,” Bea went on. “She has this wallpaper inside, and it keeps making me hungry for ice cream. Oh,” she brightened as realization struck. “Umm, and we need to stop and get ice cream. Okay?”

Lavender wiped at her tired eyes before taking Bea by the chubby wrist and leading her out of the game room. She hadn’t had her coffee and was going to need an extra-large cinnamon bun before dealing with any of this today.

******************************************************************************

The sorority houses at Fulsome Academy were much more akin to sorority mansions. Each girl was given her own little apartment that contained a bedroom, entertainment room, living room, bathroom, self-serve kitchen, full-service kitchen, and dining center.

Bea’s self-serve area was only used when Lavender was over. Despite being fully stocked, Bea was about as useful in a kitchen as a pack of coyotes, and twice as hungry. Even the coyotes would probably have the decency to wait for the dish to be done before plopping the whole thing into their snapping mouths.

Lavender slapped Bea’s reaching hand, causing the pudgy feline to grumble sadly and kiss the back of her hand. “Not yet! They have to bake first!”

“They don’t gotta…” Bea muttered, kissing the back of her hand. 

Lavender ignored her, taking the tray and pushing it into the oven. 

Bea wobbled up behind her, a squished marshmallow beneath her ill-fitting flower shirt. Lavender flicked the light on the oven, illuminating Bea’s pale face and making her coo as she watched the fat cinnamon buns cooking.

Lavender then went to the coffee maker, scooping a fresh set of fine Brazilian grounds into the machine and wondering how here life had gotten to where it was.

They were about to be juniors. Sophomore year was wrapping up, and her and her best friend were speeding along almost as quickly as the weight was piling on. She looked around Bea’s kitchen, wondering if the girl had kept anything from when they were cheerleaders together, and instead centered on a chrome surface where the green eyes of her tubby reflection stared back.

Three hundred and forty-five pounds, the scale had said. Only two years and Lavender had gone from a pale ginger twig to an obese strawberry creampuff. Her orange hair had become so poofy that it fluffed around her curves, nearly concealing the insignia of her Alpha Sigma Sigma sorority on her pants leg.

The coffee maker dinged. “Do you want any?” she asked Bea, searching through the brunettes drawer and taking out two Phi Alpha Tau mugs.

“Yes, please. With extra cream and sugar, or else-”

“Or else it makes your tummy burn. I know.”

“Yup!” Bea giggled, never turning away from the stove. “Thanks, Lav.”

“Anytime,” Lavender shrugged. It felt weird to be using the rival sorority’s mugs, but Lavender got over that hump real quick.

It was Bea’s sorority, just like the Sigmas was hers, and as far as she was concerned, the sisters could bite it.

“So, how are things with the house?” Lav asked, her mind spinning through her own.

Bea’s ass was bigger than the oven, blocking the entire view while she waggled back and forth, watching her buns with a childlike excitement. “They’re good! Last night, Kaitlyn got an award for her crabmeat fondue! You’ve gotta try it!”

Lavender approached, holding out Bea’s crafted sugar coffee. “So you have left your room in the last week?”

“Oh that’s right…” Bea muttered. “Umm… last… no, it’s been. Um, a little bit ago, Bridget won an award for her… yes.” She blushed before sipping at her drink. 

Lavender reached over, poking Bea’s side. “How did you already forget?”

“I was thinking about wallpaper…” Bea mumbled into her drink.

Lavender leaned against the counter and Bea returned to watching the cinnamon buns. “Do you remember Bridget?”

Bea thought for a moment. “Is she the blonde girl?”

“There’s a lot of blonde girls in the Sigmas.”

“The… um… sorry, the one who is kinda… bratty?”

Lavender chuckled. “There’s a lot of those, too. She’s the one that’s always wearing those pink designer pants, with the V-neck shirts that say ‘Bad Bit-’”

Bea coughed.

“… ‘Bad B-word.’”

“I remember…” Bea frowned. “She’s kind of a meanie.”

“Yeah… She, our VP. Her mom came by, CEO of that shipping company, to talk about the quarantine going on at the outside, and all the social distancing. It’s bad for business.”

Bea turned. “Quarantine?”

Lavender stared at each other, watching the complete oblivious nature that filled Bea’s innocent face.

The oven dinged, startling Bea and causing her to leap. She landed with enough force to make the oven rack slam in its housing.

“Alright,” Lavender sighed, tapping Bea on her belly. “Come on, let me at it.” She opened the oven. “Do you have any potholders?”

Bea stroked her chin. “I don’t… think… so…”

Lavender rolled her eyes. She placed her hands on her hips and went to the first drawer she saw, withdrawing two potholders and retrieving the pan. Bea never acknowledged this, too transfixed by the cinnamon rolls, and followed Lavender to her dining center. Lav placed the pan on top of a potholder and turned to Bea. 

“They’re still hot, okay?”

Bea wasn’t looking. Her tummy was audibly gurgling like an inevitable marching drum of hunger.

“Bea?”

The brunette looked up sharply. A trickle of drool dropped over her chubby cheek. “Huh? Wha?”

“Don’t eat any, yet. Let me grab plates. Okay?”

Bea’s eyes widened. She looked from Lavender, to the cinnamon rolls, back to Lavender, back to the rolls. 

“Bea,” Lavender warned. “Wait just two minutes, or you’ll burn your mouth.”

“… Okay…” Bea sagged into a chair. She watched the rolls, sliding back and forth on her seat like a kitten that was about to pounce.

Lavender resigned herself for what was about to come and left the room. She went to a cabinet and withdrew two plates, not even slightly surprised to hear a startled cry from the other room.

“Uwwwah,” Bea cried as Lavender returned, shoving the massive roll into her mouth all at once. “Ish hawt!”

Lavender passed her a plate, then scooped her own roll free while Bea went for a second, then a third, stacking the rolls on her plate as quickly as she would into her belly. 

Lavender wouldn’t admit it, but she felt more cheerful that morning than she had in a while, and as she packed her own tummy with soft doughy sweets, she felt a comfortable smile return to her cheeks.

Bea told her about her village, about her other neighbors Margie and Chai, and how last night she’d spent most of her time at someplace called ‘tarantula island.’

“Sounds spooky,” Lavender said.

“It wasn’t that bad, actually! I was trying to catch the tarantula’s because they’re worth lots of money. But they sort of… chase you all over.”

“Did you cry?”

Bea blushed. “Maybe a little…” she scarfed down the last of her cinnamon rolls, patting her tummy. “Mmmm, that was delicious. Thanks, Lav!”

Lavender chuckled, still snacking on her fourth. She passed her fifth onto Bea’s plate and it vanished into her tummy with hardly a moment between.

The two girls sighed, leaning back in their chairs and resting their hands on nice, warm tummies. “Alright,” Lav patted her drum. “Go change, and let’s go to the baths. Mmmkay?”

“Mmmkay!” Bea nodded. Then she stroked her soft chin. “I need to send my sorority pants in to my tailor, so she can upgrade them to designer clothes. I think she needs to retake my measurements. They seem way off lately.”

“I’m sure they do,” Lavender sipped on a cold glass of milk. At this point, she was used to Bea’s innocuous regard when it came to her ballooning weight. “Do you have anything that’ll be fine for today?”

“I think so. I have my galaxy tights, and my flower shirt!” Bea grinned.

Lavender reached over, poking Bea’s exposed underbelly. “You mean this flower shirt?”

Bea looked down at herself, her eyes going wide. “W-wha?” she squeezed her belly. “Hey, no way! Awww, did this shirt shrink too?!”

“Looks like it,” Lavender said with a smirk.

Bea puffed, pushing her tummy out further and pouting irately. “I have got to get mom to send our house a new washer. This keeps happening!” 

“It’s happening to the Sigmas too. Bridget said the same thing.”

Bea whined. “Noooo, I can’t be agreeing with her!” she whined. “She says the b-word…”

Lavender rose out of her chair, coming behind Bea and holding her beneath her fatty arms. “Come on, sister. Up an attem, or else we’ll never get moving.”

The brunette grumbled but obeyed. She took Lavender to her bedroom and removed her shirt and her pants. Beneath, she wore the most overworked bra and panties that Lavender had ever seen. “I forgot to put away my laundry,” Bea muttered, going to a pile of light shirts tossed carelessly around in the basket.

“You always forget,” Lavender jibbed, grinning wider when Bea gave a fat-lipped pout.

She dressed herself in a blue and white sorority Tee, with Phi Alpha Tau stretched over her chest. Around her huge hips, Bea struggled to pull on a pair of white leggings, tucking her tummy in to bring it up to her waist like a baker mashing dough.

By the time she was done, the girl was red faced and completely out of breath. She sagged, leaning onto her thighs and panting for air. Her stomach was divided into two, with the lowest part rolling in and out along her fat legs. “Alright,” she muttered. “Okay,” another pause. “R-ready now.”

Lavender watched Bea’s belly billow in and out, not believing a word but knowing she really didn’t have a choice. “Okay,” she lifted herself from the dresser. “To the bathhouse!”

“B-bathhouse?” Bea panted. “I thought…” she broke for another deep breath, lifting herself back up to her full height of five feet. “I thought we were going out for breakfast?”