Untitled cheetah story
She sat in the chair, not that she had much choice, and the chair didn't seem to enjoy the predicament it was in. The wood, metal, and upholstery groaned under the magnificent cheetahs blubbery form. Looking like some sort of spotted whale she glutted on one of the many boxes of doughnuts surrounding her on the side tables. The box she was currently focused on decimating was set atop her uppermost pair of breasts, each of them was near triple D's and sagged under their own fat engorged weight. She couldn't help herself, cake, cookies, brownies, fudge, ice-cream, candies, if it was sugary sweat, she had to stuff it in her mouth. Finishing the latest box, she tossed it and reached her bloated fingers out to caress her bloated belly.
long ago she was everything a cheetah should be, slender, athletic, and fast, but then she was offered something she had never been exposed to before... Cookies, oatmeal raisin to be specific, and ever since then it had been a love hate relationship. She watched her hard earned muscles fade away under a thick layer of all consuming blubber, and with it the respect she had earned from her peers. The laughing hurt the worst, snickers from the passersby as she struggled to pull her shirt over the pot belly that pooched over her waist band, little kids pointing as she bought yet another slice of cake at the food festival, the humiliation of ripping her sweatpants as she bent to retrieve yet another candy bar from the vending machine.
As she reminisced she was unaware that she had finished another six boxes of doughnuts and that her belly was now achingly full. Her puffy, clawed hands caressed her stretched pelt, rubbing at the stretch marks that ran lines through her exaggerated and distorted spots. The bulge of her belly button sat in a shallow dimple on the farthest reach of her swollen gut, riding the curve of flesh between her bottom four breasts that sat between and atop her knee dimples. Taking a deep breath she moaned as her bellyache amplified slightly. her tale wagged at the thought of all the sweats she consumed. rubbing the tightly packed sphere of lard and junk food she blushed at the fact that her love handles and two of her breasts settled heavily on the arms of the love seat.
Sliding her hand underneath she blushed harder as she hefted the sheer weight of her motherly mammaries. kneading the swollen mound she moaned again, partially from the sensitivity and partially from her still present belly ache. her free hand reached back and grabbed for her wagging tail, this being the only way she could identify her over-blown ass underneath all of her back rolls. In order for her to rub along the top she had to slide her hand several inches into the soft adipose rolls of her back. It was a magnificent rump, rounding out into the chair and keeping her seated slightly forward, this allowed her belly to bulge and sag between her legs the way it did. A spotted breast in one hand and a generous hand-full of ass lard in the other, she contemplated her next move.
Stuffed beyond what one could call a healthy portion of junk-food, she decided that the first thing she had to do was get up. Placing her paws wide she forced herself forward, her wide hips and round rump sliding up between the arms of the comfy chair and forcing her love-handles and breasts up and out. with a tremendous effort, all of her soft flesh had slid and shifted forward putting her into a roughly standing position. The butterball goddess of a cheetah stood and swayed, momentarily contemplating sitting back down. But she couldn't just sit here all day... no, After all, The brownies were in the kitchen...
Fin