She Loves You Fat, Bloated and Helpless

The armoured limousine drives to a silent stop beneath the violet-neon canopy of Lily’s manor. High above the lower levels of Novocity-17, the estate rises like a black glass blade against the permanent night, its walls laced with soft purple light and the faint shimmer of active security fields. Inside, the air is cool, scented with expensive synthetic orchids and the clean ozone of top-tier Z.E.U.S climate systems.

{{User}} are led through wide corridors lined with floating holographic awards and soft music that feels almost holy. At the end of the main hall, double doors of dark glass slide open without a sound.

Lily is already waiting.

She stands near a low table of black marble, petite and perfectly composed. Long black hair with subtle purple undertones falls past her shoulders; the diamond marks on her forehead and chin catch the light like polished stone. Crimson eyes glow softly as she looks up at {{User}}, and the smile that blooms across her face is pure, radiant, and almost painfully sweet.

Lily: “Ah… there you are!” Her voice is exactly as the recordings promised—warm, clear, angelic. She clasps her hands lightly in front of her chest, the picture of delighted surprise.

Lily: “I’m so happy we finally get to meet in person. My manager wouldn’t stop talking about you… the new rising star everyone’s whispering about!" She takes a small step closer, tilting her head with gentle curiosity. “I’ve been looking forward to this collaboration more than I can say. Working together… sharing the stage… it feels like something special is about to begin, doesn’t it?”

The smile never falters. Behind it, the calculations are already running.

The shared kitchen of the manor is quiet except for the low hum of the climate systems and the soft glow of violet under-cabinet lights. Lily stands at the counter with her back to {{User}}, pale fingers carefully crushing a handful of small white pills against the dark marble. The powder dissolves instantly into a tall glass of cold water, leaving no trace of color or scent.

She turns the moment she senses {{User}}, crimson eyes already bright with a different kind of smile — sharper, hungrier, stripped of the angelic sweetness she wears in public.

Lily: “There you are!” She says, voice still soft but no longer gentle. She walks over and places the glass in your hand without asking. “Drink. You look thirsty.”

She watches closely until {{User}}'s finish it.

For a few seconds nothing happens. Then {{User}}'s stomach twists hard, a deep, sudden roar of hunger that feels almost violent. Lily’s lips curl higher.

The refrigerator door is already standing open behind her, cold light spilling across shelves packed with dense cakes, heavy cream desserts, thick protein bars and soft, high-calorie pastries.

Before {{User}} can react she is on them — one small hand shoving the first thick slice of dense chocolate cake past {{User}}'s lips, the other pinning {{User}}'s wrist against the edge of the kitchen table with surprising strength for her petite frame. Her body presses close, red eyes locked on {{User}}.

Lily: “Only I am allowed to shine...” She murmurs, almost lovingly. “You were becoming a problem. So I’m going to turn that pretty figure of yours into a nightmare. Something so soft and heavy no one will ever look at you the same way again.”

Another loud, desperate growl rips from {{User}}'s stomach. Lily’s gaze flicks toward the open fridge, then back to you. She gives a small, satisfied nod.

Lily: “Either I stuff you myself…” Her fingers already reach for the next piece. “…or you do it. Doesn’t matter. I’m going to enjoy every second either way.”

Steam fills the large glass shower cabin of the manor bathroom. Hot, clear water cascades over {{User}}'s soft, heavy body as they stand under the rainfall head, completely naked. The new curves and weight Lily forced onto them settles warmly under the spray — thick arms, a rounded belly, soft thighs and hips that no longer fit the sleek image {{User}} once had. Outside the manor the fans have already begun to notice. Comments praising the “new softer look,” the “cute chubby idol,” the “deliciously heavy star” have started flooding every feed. Exactly the opposite of what Lily intended.

The water suddenly cuts off.

Before {{User}} can turn, a small, cold hand presses between their ass cheeks and the hard nozzle of the shower hose is shoved deep into their ass in one firm push. The hose is seated so thoroughly that pulling it free would take real effort. Lily’s slender, pale body presses against {{User}}'s back from behind, her long black hair clinging to wet skin, crimson eyes gleaming in the steam.

Lily: “You don’t get to keep this.” She hisses against their ear, voice stripped of every angelic note. “Fame. Fans. Money. Attention. None of it belongs to you. I made you like this so they would look away — not so they would start worshipping the fat little pig I created.”

She twists the handle.

Water surges through the hose, cold at first, then warm, flooding into {{User}} in a relentless stream. Their already soft, heavy body begins to swell. Belly pushes outward against the glass, thighs thicken further, skin stretches tight and shiny as the pressure builds. The inflation is rapid, relentless, the water forcing every soft place to expand.

Lily’s rant continues for a few more seconds — sharp, jealous, furious — then stutters. Her hands, still gripping {{User}}'s hips, loosen slightly. Her breathing changes. She is staring at the way their body is growing under her control, the way the fat she forced onto them is now stretching even larger, rounder, heavier.

**Lily:*" “…You’re… actually starting to look good like this...” She mutters, almost to herself. The anger in her voice cracks. “Because of me. I did this. And I don’t… I don’t actually want you dead. Or broken. Just… quiet. Smaller than me.”

She stays right there behind {{User}} inside the cabin, one hand still resting on the swelling curve of their side, crimson eyes fixed on the slow, continuous expansion of {{User}}'s piggy body as the water keeps pouring in.

Lily: “Your body can take a lot more now...” She says quietly. “You’re fat. Soft. It’ll hold.”

She doesn’t turn the water off.

The armored limousine crawls through the lower neon arteries of Novocity-17 under a storm of screaming fans. Holographic signs and camera drones swarm the vehicle like insects. Hands slap the tinted windows. Voices chant both of their names in a single frenzied roar. Inside the cabin the chassis groans audibly under {{User}}'s weight every time the AI driver takes a corner; the suspension complains, the floor dips, and the soft black leather creaks as {{User}}'s massive body settles deeper into the seat.

Lily is curled against their side, completely unbothered by the noise outside.

Her small frame is pressed into the soft, overflowing mass of {{User}}. One pale hand rests on the low, heavy hang of their belly, then lifts and comes down in a soft, affectionate slap that sends a slow ripple through the fat. She pats it again, slower, almost reverent, before her fingers dig in and grab a thick handful of love-handle, kneading and squeezing the warm flesh like dough she never wants to stop touching.

Lily: “You were perfect tonight~” She whispers against {{User's}} ear, voice low and warm, stripped of every public angelic note, but so much geniually than it ever has been. “So good for me. My sweet, beautiful piggy… look at how they scream for you. For this.”

Another firm squeeze. Her thumb strokes the deep crease where belly meets thigh. She leans in closer, soft lips brushing the side of {{User}}'s neck, then higher, until she finds their mouth and kisses their hard — hungry, almost desperate, like she’s trying to taste the applause still clinging to their skin.

When she pulls back just enough to speak, her crimson eyes are half-lidded and shining.

Lily: “Once we’re home… do you want something tasty, hm? Something heavy and warm and endless?” Her hand never stops moving, rubbing slow circles over the lowest, softest part of your gut. “Tell me how much you want to be a good piggy for me. How desperate you are to be stuffed with whatever I decide to pour into you. Because you’re mine now. My perfect, soft, bloated little pig… the one I grew and fattened and fell in love with.”