Eddie spotted Maddie across the crowded bar, the kind of place where spilled beer pooled under stools and the jukebox blared forgotten '90s hits like it was auditioning for a nostalgia circuit. She was nursing a whiskey neat, her fingers drumming the glass in a rhythm that matched the bass thump. Nothing flashy about her—brown hair tied back, jeans that hugged her legs without trying too hard, a simple black top that showed just enough collarbone to intrigue. Eddie, fresh off a brutal week at the auto shop, slid onto the stool next to her, ordering a pint and cracking a joke about the bartender's mustache looking like it belonged on a walrus.
Maddie laughed, a sharp, genuine sound that cut through the noise. They talked easy—about shitty bosses, the best dive joints in town, and how neither of them could remember the last time they had a night out that didn't end in regret. By the third round, her hand brushed his on the bar top, lingering just long enough to spark something electric. Eddie felt that pull, the kind that made his pulse kick up. Maddie leaned in, her breath warm against his ear, suggesting they get out of there. He nodded, tossing cash on the bar, and they stumbled out into the cool night air, her arm looped through his.
They dated like that for a few weeks, nothing official but intense. Dinners at hole-in-the-wall taco spots where they'd share plates and steal bites, laughing when salsa dripped on shirts. Late-night drives in Eddie's beat-up truck, windows down, wind whipping through as they made out at stoplights. Maddie was fun, unpredictable—dragging him to a midnight arcade one night, bodies pressed close in the dim glow of pinball machines, her lips finding his neck while he racked up high scores. Sex was raw and frequent; the first time in his apartment, she pushed him against the door, hands fumbling with his belt, dropping to her knees to take his dick in her mouth, sucking hard and slow until he groaned and pulled her up to fuck her against the wall, her legs wrapped tight around his waist. It was good, better than good—sweaty, urgent, leaving them both spent and grinning.
But one night, after a bar crawl that left them buzzed and horny, Maddie suggested heading to her place instead of his. "It's closer," she murmured, nipping at his earlobe as they waited for the cab. Eddie agreed, no hesitation, his hand sliding up her thigh under the table. The ride blurred into kisses, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest through his shirt. Her house was on the edge of town, a squat Victorian with peeling paint and overgrown vines, the kind of place that looked abandoned until you noticed the lights flickering in the windows. Inside, it smelled like vanilla and something sharper, metallic. They barely made it to the couch before clothes hit the floor—Eddie pinning her down, thrusting into her pussy with deep, grinding strokes while she clawed at his back, moaning his name. She came hard, shuddering around him, and he followed, spilling inside her with a grunt.
Eddie woke to sunlight slicing through cracked blinds, his head pounding like a jackhammer. The room spun for a second, and he realized he wasn't on the couch. He was in a bedroom, wrists bound to the arms of a heavy wooden chair with thick leather straps, ankles secured the same way. Naked, his skin prickled in the cool air. Panic hit as he tugged at the restraints, but they held firm. The door creaked open, and Maddie stepped in—but she wasn't Maddie anymore.
Her skin had shifted to a deep, shimmering red, like polished garnet under light. Horns curled from her forehead, black and twisted like ram's, framing her face. A tail swayed behind her, long and prehensile, tipped with a spade that flicked lazily. Her body—fuck, her body—was a masterpiece of curves: an hourglass figure exaggerated to perfection, wide hips flaring out to a big, round ass that jiggled with each step, shapely thighs thick enough to crush a man if she wanted. Her breasts were massive, heavy orbs swaying freely, nipples wide as silver dollars, dark and erect. And when she smiled, her tongue lolled out—long, forked, glistening as it traced her lips. She was a succubus, straight out of some fever dream, eyes glowing with amber fire.
"Eddie," she purred, voice like velvet over gravel, circling the chair. "You taste divine. Been watching you squirm."
"What the fuck is this?" he demanded, heart slamming against his ribs. But even as fear clawed at him, his dick twitched, hardening against his will at the sight of her.
Maddie laughed, low and throaty, her tail brushing his thigh. "This is home now, pet. I've been playing human too long—bars, dates, all that bullshit to lure in fresh meat like you. You're mine. I'll keep you fed, fucked, and fat. Drain your essence slow, make it last." She leaned in, her long tongue flicking out to lap at his neck, sending shivers down his spine. "Struggle if you want. Makes it sweeter."
She didn't untie him that first day, just teased—straddling his lap, grinding her slick pussy against his cock until he was rock-hard and begging, then pulling away with a wink. But as days blurred into nights, she started the routine. She'd unstrap him for baths, her hands soaping his body, fingers lingering on his dick, stroking until he came in thick spurts across her palm. Meals were decadent: platters of creamy pastas, butter-drenched meats, chocolates that melted on his tongue. She'd feed him bites herself, her breasts brushing his arm, nipples grazing his skin. After, she'd massage him with warm oil, her hands kneading his shoulders, sliding down to his ass, parting his cheeks to circle his hole with oiled fingers while her tail teased his balls. Eddie fought it at first, but the pleasure eroded his resistance—orgasms that left him drained, body humming.
He started gaining weight, slow at first. A softness around his middle, thighs rubbing when he walked the house (she let him roam on a leash now, collared like a prized dog). Maddie cooed over it, rubbing his budding belly during sex, fucking him from behind while her tail wrapped his waist, urging him deeper into her as he panted. But she grew impatient, eyes narrowing at his reflection in the mirror. "Not fast enough," she'd mutter, pinching the new flesh on his sides. "I need you blubbering, pet. A proper blob for me to play with."
One evening, after tying him back to the chair—his body already softer, dick nestled in a layer of pudge—Maddie stepped back, her red skin glowing in the lamplight. "Time to speed things up." She raised a hand, and the air shimmered; a crystal decanter materialized, filled with hot pink liquid that swirled like living smoke. It was tall, etched with runes, the contents bubbling faintly. "Pure essence of gluttony," she said, grinning with those sharp teeth. "One sip, and you'll balloon. Every swallow pumps you fuller, fatter. My perfect, helpless toy."
Eddie stared, mouth dry, but his cock throbbed at the promise in her voice. She produced a wide funnel, black rubber, and fitted it between his lips, strapping it in place so he couldn't spit. The first pour was slow, the liquid warm and thick, tasting like molten sugar and sin—sweet, addictive, coating his throat as he swallowed involuntarily. Heat bloomed in his gut, spreading like wildfire.
It started in his belly. The soft paunch he'd built swelled outward, skin stretching taut as fat layers piled on. From maybe 180 pounds, he hit 300 in moments—his stomach rounding into a proper gut, hanging over his waist, heavy and warm. Maddie knelt, hands on his expanding flesh, rubbing circles as it grew. "Look at that," she murmured, voice husky. "Filling out so nice." His chest softened too, pecs bloating into man boobs, nipples puffing up sensitive under her pinching fingers. She tweaked them, rolling the hardening peaks, and Eddie moaned around the funnel, the sensation electric.
More liquid poured, relentless. By 500 pounds, his thighs ballooned, merging into a sea of blubber that spread wide, pinning his legs. The chair creaked under him, his ass cheeks inflating like dough, pushing him up as fat cascaded down. Arms thickened, bingo wings forming, hands pudgy and useless against the straps. His dick, buried now in folds, still strained, pre-cum leaking as Maddie reached down, stroking the head peeking from the fat pad. She poured faster, her tail whipping excitedly. "Fuck, yes—keep swallowing, pet." At 900 pounds, he was a mound—belly a vast dome, sagging to his knees, rippling with every breath. Rolls stacked on his back, sides, neck doubling into chins that wobbled. His man boobs were full tits now, heavy and pendulous, swaying as she pinched and pulled, making him gasp. The growth burned sweet, pleasure coiling in his core, every cell fattening with euphoric weight.
She didn't stop. The decanter seemed bottomless, pink essence glugging down. Eddie's world narrowed to sensation—fat surging to 3000 pounds, an immensity of lard and blubber. His entire lower half fused into a single, quivering mass, legs indistinguishable under layers that pooled on the floor. The belly was a mountain, stretching yards, skin veined and slick with sweat, undulating as he panted. Arms sank into sides, just stubs in the tide. His face rounded, cheeks ballooning, eyes half-lidded in bliss. Maddie rubbed it all, hands sinking into the yielding fat, kneading his gut like bread dough, fingers disappearing into folds. She climbed onto the chair's arm, her perfect red body contrasting his pale expanse, and latched onto one massive man boob, sucking the nipple hard while pinching the other. "These tits of yours," she growled between licks, "so fucking feminine now. Look at you—soft, curvy, like a goddess gone to seed. My big, blubbery girl."
Eddie moaned, the funnel still in place, body alight with ecstasy. The weight pinned him, but it felt right—every jiggle, every swell sending waves of pleasure through his buried cock, which pulsed untouched, on the edge. She poured the last dregs, pumping him to that final, obscene 3000, her hands never stopping: slapping his gut to watch it wobble, squeezing handfuls of ass fat that had engulfed the chair, tweaking his boobs until they ached deliciously.
Finally, she pulled the funnel free, wiping his chin with her long tongue. "How do you feel, pet?"
Ecstasy crashed over him. "Fuck... amazing," Eddie groaned, voice muffled by chins. His body thrummed, every inch alive, sensitive. "More... can I have more? Please, Maddie, fill me up again."
She laughed, eyes gleaming, and straddled the edge of his vast belly, her pussy grinding against the warm blubber. "Greedy boy. Or should I say girl? With tits like these, you're all woman now." She degraded him playfully, leaning forward to motorboat his man boobs, the flesh slapping her face. "Pinch these yourself—feel how soft, how slutty you've become. No more abs, just this jiggling mess. Bet you could lactate if I tried." Her fingers dug in, twisting nipples until he whimpered, her tail snaking down to probe his hidden dick, stroking it amid the fat. She pumped more essence directly into his mouth from the decanter, slow sips now, each one adding subtle layers, keeping him at 3000 but teasing the edge. Her hands roamed—rubbing his gut in firm circles, feeling the give, then lifting folds to expose his ass crack, fingering it deep while she rode his belly like a wave.
The session stretched, her body slick against his. She untied the straps—pointless now, with his immobility—and positioned herself, sliding down to take his cock fully, the fat parting like warm butter. She fucked him slow, her big ass bouncing, breasts heaving, while her tail teased his balls. Eddie came explosively, cum flooding her as she clenched around him, squirting her own juices over his blubber. They went again—her long tongue wrapping his nipple, sucking while she pegged him with a manifested toy, his body quaking in orgasm after orgasm.
In time, Maddie softened the edges of her plan. She kept him fed, yes, but with love woven in—massages turning tender, sex a daily ritual of mutual bliss. Eddie, lost in his new form, found peace in the surrender, her red skin a constant anchor. One night, as she curled against his side, tail draped over his gut, she whispered, "You're perfect like this. My eternal pet." He smiled, hand in her hair, knowing he'd never want to leave. In her world, fat was freedom, and they reveled in it, bodies entwined in endless, filthy delight.