Little Bits (Commission/English) (Patreon)

(Fantasy, BBW, SSBBW, USSBBW, Blob, Stuffing, Feeding, WG, XWG)

Preface:
This text was a commission that was originally requested slightly differently but was modified for posting here. The story is intentionally kept vague in some places or phrased in a somewhat exaggerated or flowery manner to create a fairy-tale-like tone.

The rainy season had plunged the city into a constant gray for days, and the storm that had swept across the rooftops the previous night had made even the sturdiest chimneys tremble. Eron and Lilia Quintella had gotten up early, as they always did, no matter what the weather had in store. After all, it was naturally always very warm, dry, and comfortable at their workplaces. Their bakery chain, which now comprised five branches in the industrial districts and a larger production facility by the river, demanded constant attention. Ovens and state-of-the-art electric dough mixers were already running, while outside the last leaves were still being torn from the trees. Eron, a man of medium height with brown hair—which he usually wore tucked under a simple cap—stood at the large window in the back kitchen, watching the courtyard of their main branch, where they also had their apartment. Lilia, also a brunette with an unassuming but pretty appearance, was just arranging fresh rolls into baskets when a soft, barely audible whimper drifted over from the old oak tree at the edge of the property. At first they thought it was an injured bird or perhaps a stray cat, but the sound repeated itself, faint and desperate.

“Do you hear that too?” Lilia asked, setting the tray of rolls aside. Eron simply nodded and reached for his jacket. Together they stepped out into the wet courtyard. The storm had torn down branches and covered the ground with leaves and dirt. Under the protective overhang of the oak tree, among the roots, they found something they initially mistook for small, colorful cloth dolls. But then one of the creatures stirred faintly, and a tiny pair of wings—torn and wet—fluttered helplessly. They were fairies. Eron and Lilia knew the stories, and although fairies had become rare in their industrialized world, their presence surprised them more than it shocked them. The three fairies lay close together. They were sisters—judging by their facial features, perhaps even triplets. Even in that weather and under those lighting conditions, the two bakers could make out the resemblance in their faces. The three little creatures could be distinguished only by their hair colors. One had black hair, the second had blonde curls, and the third had brown hair. All three lay there, exhausted. Their wings hung limply down. They were barely more than ten centimeters tall, so they could have easily fit in one hand. Shivering and soaked, the three little creatures huddled together. Eron knelt down carefully.

“Are you hurt?” he asked cautiously. He already knew the answer, since the tears in the three elves’ thin wings were clearly visible. One of the fairies lifted her head. Her eyes were dark and alert, despite her exhaustion.

“The storm tore us from the skies,” she replied in a voice as bright and melodious as the tinkling of little bells. “Our wings are damaged. We can’t fly anymore. My name is Trixie. These are my sisters, Flora and Cara.”

Lilia took a deep breath and slowly reached out her hand. “We’re Eron and Lilia Quintella. You’re safe here. Come on, let’s get you inside before the rain gets heavier again.”

Trixie hesitated for just a moment, then let Eron gently lift her and the other two. In his hand, they felt as light as a feather and fragile. The three snuggled close together as the two humans walked back into the warm kitchen. There, Lilia laid a clean cloth on the table and carefully placed the three on it. Immediately, they began to boil water and lay out soft cloths. The wounds on their wings didn’t seem to be bleeding, but the membranes were torn in several places and soiled. Eron fetched a mild ointment from the house’s medicine cabinet—one they normally used for minor burns at the bakery. Lilia gently washed the fairies with lukewarm water and a soft cloth, while Trixie whispered soothing words to the other two. Flora and Cara remained shy and barely spoke, yet their large eyes followed the humans’ every movement. At least they all endured the procedure, for the warm water undoubtedly did them a world of good after the cold, wet storm. Once the external cleaning was complete, Lilia brought in a small tray with the leftovers from that day: a piece of soft brioche, some vanilla cream, and a few crumbs of yeast plait. For the fairies, even a single bite was a substantial portion. Trixie cautiously took a small piece first and then passed the food to the others. No sooner had Flora and Cara tasted the sweetness on their tongues than their eyes widened. “This is…,” Trixie began, then trailed off as she found herself popping more pieces of the pastry into her mouth. “This is wonderful! Thank you so, so much!” Clara said instead, after she’d swallowed.

Eron smiled. “We’re bakers. There’s always something sweet and warm here. Eat as much as you like. These are just leftovers for us—it doesn’t even show with our size.”

In the hours that followed, they set up a makeshift nest for the fairies in an old wooden box, which they padded with soft cloths and cotton wool. They placed the box on a high shelf in the kitchen-diner, where it was warm and dry and the fairies were protected from prying eyes. In the evening, after the last employees had left, Eron and Lilia sat at the table and watched as Trixie gently moved the others’ wings to check if the movement caused them any pain.

“It’ll probably take a while,” Trixie said softly. “Wings heal slowly when they’re torn. We’re very grateful to you for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank us,” Lilia replied. “Stay as long as you need to. No one here will notice if we take care of you. That goes without saying. Besides, your size makes it pretty easy.” The night passed quietly. The next morning, the storm had cleared, and a pale sunlight streamed through the windows. Eron and Lilia got up early to prepare breakfast for the sisters, but they kept pausing to check on the fairies. Trixie was already awake and sitting on the edge of the crate while the others were still asleep. “They need rest,” she explained. “But I think they dreamed about the food all night.” Trixie often seemed to speak for her sisters and appeared to be something of an unofficial leader of the group. The other two little fairies were much shyer.

Lilia laughed softly and brought over a small bowl of fresh cream and a piece of yeast bread. The others woke up at the smell and approached cautiously. Flora, the blonde one, reached in first and popped a piece smothered in thick cream into her mouth. Cara followed her. Within a few minutes, the bowl was empty, and the two already seemed less fearful and quite full and satisfied. Groaning, they rubbed their tiny, rounded bellies. As the day went on, a quiet routine developed. Eron and Lilia worked in the kitchen and the production area, but they stopped by regularly to tend to the fairies. They cleaned the wings again with a mild ointment and carefully bandaged them with thin strips of soft fabric so the tears wouldn’t widen any further. In between, Trixie told them about her people, who lived in the forests on the edge of the industrial zones, and how the storm had swept them far away. The humans listened with interest. Even though everyone knew that elves existed and roughly where they lived, it was incredibly rare to actually catch a glimpse of one. In the afternoon, Lilia brought a slice of chocolate cake with thick buttercream. For the fairies, it was a feast. Trixie divided it fairly, and the others ate with a greed that seemed almost comical. For fairies, sugar and carbohydrates were apparently particularly addictive. Eating human food over a longer period of time would make them fatten up and swell in no time at all. Their little bellies visibly rounded out, and Flora licked her fingers as if she’d never eaten anything better.

“You make them happy,” Trixie said to Lilia, while the others snuggled up to the pillows and began to feel sleepy.

“In our world, food this wonderful and sweet is rare. It’s mostly berries and flower nectar. Sweet, too, but nothing compared to these delicacies.”

“Then it’s good that you’re here,” Lilia replied. “We have more than enough of it for you.” The next few days passed in much the same way. By the second day, their wings were already less sore, and the edges of the tears no longer seemed so frayed. Slowly, the gaps were healing over. Aside from eating and sleeping a lot, there wasn’t much for the fairies—who were still quite exhausted and in the process of healing—to do. Over time, Flora and Cara grew bolder. They ventured to the edge of the box and often watched as Eron kneaded the large batch of dough or Lilia filled the molds with cream. In the evenings, the two humans often sat at the table while the fairies dined in a specially prepared spot in the middle. A small plate with various pastries, a little bowl of whipped cream or pudding. The fairies stuffed their cheeks full and giggled softly when the cream stuck to their noses. Trixie also ate with obvious delight, although she tried to remain more dignified than her sisters. But that was pretty much in vain, because none of the three could hide just how incredibly greedy they were for the humans’ sweet treats.

“You’re going to get fat if you keep eating like that,” Eron said jokingly, and Trixie smiled. “For us, your little bites are big meals. But I can’t deny them this. They haven’t had anything proper to eat in so long. And it’s just so incredibly delicious—I can’t deny that either,” Trixie said, glancing at her sisters as they stuffed themselves.

By the third day, the fairies were already noticing the first signs of improvement. Cara could move her wings a little without whimpering, and Flora was making cautious attempts to fly inside the box, though they weren’t quite successful yet. The humans were delighted and rewarded their progress with a particularly generous slice of cake filled with cream and fresh berries. The fairies ate so eagerly that their bellies became round and soft. Trixie watched them with a mixture of concern and tenderness.

“They really do look healthier,” she said to Lilia. “The color has returned to their cheeks.” “And they’re now more willing to talk to us,” Lilia added. In fact, Cara had quietly asked for more cream that afternoon, and Flora had thanked Eron when he handed her a soft piece of brioche. Meanwhile, the bakery continued to run as usual. The employees usually didn’t notice the little guests on the shelf.

On the fourth day, the wings were noticeably better. None of the elves felt pain when moving their wings anymore, and the membranes continued to heal together. Trixie was already able to float short distances, though she would sink back down, exhausted. The others practiced as well and landed softly in the cotton wool of the box several times. Every time they successfully flew a short distance, they were rewarded with a piece of cake or a dollop of cream. Over time, however, the fairies also became visibly rounder. The healing of their wings kept pace with their increasing weight. Their once-slender figures had taken on softer contours, and Flora and Cara, in particular, already looked almost chubby. Trixie herself had also gained weight, even though she was still trying to hide it. But none of them seemed to really mind. The food was too tempting, and the sense of security in the Quintellas’ warm house was a welcome change after the storm. One quiet evening, they were all sitting together. Eron and Lilia had poured themselves cups of tea, and the fairies were sharing a large slice of cream cake, nibbling at it together from both sides. Flora and Cara had cream on their faces and were laughing, while Trixie tried to keep them clean. Eron leaned back and watched the little family.

“You’re welcome to stay a while longer,” he said. “Your wings still need time to heal, and as long as you’re here, no one will notice if we take care of you. You’re small enough that it won’t be a problem.”

Lilia nodded in agreement. “And we have more than enough pastries. Taking care of you, no matter how much you eat, won’t even be noticeable. It would be a shame if you had to leave already, just because your first wounds are healing.” Trixie looked up from the piece of cake she was sharing with the others. Cream was smeared on her fingers, and the others continued to stuff their cheeks as if there were no tomorrow. She smiled, and her dark eyes sparkled with gratitude.

“Maybe we’ll stay a few more days,” she replied. “We need the rest, and… well, the food here is something you could get used to.”

Flora and Cara nodded eagerly, without taking their mouths off the cake. Their little bellies were round and full, and their wings fluttered with joy, even though they weren’t yet strong enough to carry them far. Flora’s breasts and butt had grown quite a bit during their time at the bakery and were straining against her clothes, and Cara had quite a potbelly spilling over the waistband of her little pants. Slowly but surely, there was no longer any doubt that the three little fairies were getting really fat and putting on more and more weight.

Outside, dusk was falling, and the city’s streetlights began to glow. In the Quintellas’ kitchen, it was warm and peaceful. The fairy sisters continued to eat the cake while Eron and Lilia watched and quietly rejoiced that they could help. Their wings would heal—that much was clear. But as long as the three were still here, they wouldn’t go hungry, and the bakers were more than happy to take care of the little, winged family a little longer. The days that followed passed in a similar calm. Every morning, Eron and Lilia brought fresh baked goods, and every evening, the fairies sat down to a small feast. The fairies grew increasingly trusting and sometimes even ventured onto the table to watch the dough being kneaded. Trixie told them more about her life in the woods, and the humans listened while they, in turn, talked about their work at the bakery chain. The wings continued to heal, but now it was more the new and unfamiliar weight that prevented the fairies from floating. On some days, Trixie could already float for longer distances, and the others continued to practice diligently. But they kept returning to the box and to their meals. Their bodies had grown accustomed to the rich food, and their once-slender figures had become softer and rounder. Flora and Cara, in particular, already looked quite plump when they lay there contentedly after eating, stretching out their wings. Trixie, however, had also put on quite a bit of weight, and since she seemed a bit taller than the other two, she looked even more full-figured. One evening, when the piece of cake provided by the Quintellas was almost gone and the fairies were licking the cream off their fingers, Eron repeated his offer.

“Stay a while longer. It doesn’t bother us in the least. And as long as your wings aren’t fully healed, you’re safer here than out in the woods.” Trixie glanced at her sisters, who were just tucking into the last bits of the cake together. Then she looked at the two humans and nodded slowly. “All right, you two, thank you so much. We’ll stay a while longer. At least until our wings are strong enough again. Thank you so much for taking such good care of us.” Lilia smiled and poured a little more tea. Outside, steam-powered carriages rolled through the streets, and electric lights flickered in the windows of the factories. In the Quintellas’ kitchen, however, it was quiet and warm, and three little fairies were stuffing themselves with cake while two unassuming bakers watched, knowing they’d done the right thing. The wounds were healing, trust was growing, and the three fairies enjoyed the sumptuous paradise they’d stumbled into here for just a little while longer.

The days after the storm gradually turned into weeks, and the three fairies stayed with the humans, even though they’d had other plans before. At first, Trixie had still talked about how she and her sisters would move on soon, as soon as their wings were fully healed, but with every additional piece of cake, every additional bowl of whipped cream, and every additional spoonful of custard, that thought grew fainter. The Quintellas’ food was too tempting, too rich, and always available. What amounted to just a few bites for Eron and Lilia filled the fairies’ tiny stomachs to bursting and left them in a state of warm, sweet contentment they had never known before. At first, they ate in moderation—at least by their own standards. But after just a few more days, Flora and Cara were already craving more. They sat on the edge of their box, which had since been padded with even softer cloths and small pillows, and watched with hungry eyes as Lilia filled the molds with buttercream or Eron pulled fresh brioches from the oven. At first, Trixie tried to rein the others in, but she, too, couldn’t resist the aroma. Whenever Lilia brought a small bowl of vanilla cream and a slice of chocolate cake, all three would dig in, and the portions grew larger day by day. Eron and Lilia noticed the change, but it didn’t bother them in the least. On the contrary. The little creatures seemed so happy when they ate, and their grateful glances and soft sighs of contentment filled the kitchen with a special warmth.

“Eat as much as you want,” Lilia said one morning as she cut a particularly generous slice of cream cake into tiny bites. “It’s hardly anything for us, as I’ve said many times. I just want you to know that you’re no burden to us—quite the opposite. We’re very happy to have you here.”
Trixie nodded, her mouth already full of cream. “It’s… hard to stop. It tastes so different from anything we know. So rich and sweet and filling. Wonderful!”

The others needed no further encouragement. Flora, whose blonde curls now looked a bit fuller, popped one piece after another into her mouth and licked her fingers as her belly slowly grew rounder. Cara ate a little more slowly, but just as persistently, and her once-slender waist began to bulge gently. Trixie herself ate with a mixture of pleasure and a faint unease she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She could feel her body changing, the skin around her belly becoming softer and fuller, but the taste of the cream and sugar masked any doubts. Over time, the fairies became really fat and flabby and wanted more and more to stuff their bellies. The fairies no longer ate only at mealtimes. As soon as they caught the scent of fresh pastries, they grew restless and called out to the humans. Lilia and Eron came willingly and brought ever-larger quantities: a whole small plate full of cream, several pieces of cake, soft brioches soaked in sugar and butter. The fairies stuffed themselves until their bellies were plump and round and they could barely move. Then they lay there, panting and content, yet still begging for more.

“Please…,” Flora whispered one afternoon, after she’d already eaten so much cream that her belly lay in front of her like a little ball. “Just a little more. It’s so good.” Eron smiled and handed her another spoon.

“Of course. You look so cute when you’re so full.”

Meanwhile, Cara had rolled onto her side and was moaning softly from being so full, while Lilia carefully held another piece of cake up to her mouth. The young fairy opened her mouth and kept eating, even though her belly was already so distended that her skin glistened and looked taut. Trixie watched the whole scene with a feeling that lay somewhere between concern and her own greed. She, too, had gained weight. Her belly had become softer and rounder, and her breasts, which had previously been barely noticeable, were beginning to fill out and grow heavier. When she moved, she felt the extra weight on her hips and her behind, which was now noticeably fuller and softer. Meanwhile, the wings continued to heal. The stitches held, and the membranes were gradually closing. But one evening, when Trixie tried to stand up and float, she realized that her body had become too heavy. She flapped vigorously, but she barely lifted off the bottom of the box. Flora and Cara were in the same situation. Their wings moved, but the weight of their round bellies and soft bodies held them down.

“We can’t fly anymore,” Trixie said quietly as she lay panting among the pillows. Her belly rose and fell with every breath, and the skin over it was so taut that you could see the fullness beneath. “It’s too much. We’re too heavy.”

Lilia knelt in front of the box and gently stroked Trixie’s soft belly with a finger.

“That’s okay. You’re safe here, after all. And we can carry you if you can’t move.” The fairies were a little embarrassed at first, but their shame quickly faded under the influence of their next meal. The humans began to carry them more often and move them from one place to another. Eron picked up Trixie, and she felt heavy and soft in his warm palm; her belly wobbled with every movement. Lilia carried the other two fairies, whose bodies had by now become extremely fat and round. The feedings became a daily ritual that lasted longer and longer. In the morning, Lilia brought a large little bowl of warm milk and soft bread soaked in sugar and butter. The fairies ate until their bellies were plump and round and they could no longer sit without tipping to one side. At noon there was cake and cream, and in the evening, once again, generous slices of cake and whipped cream. Each time they stuffed themselves fuller and fuller, and each time their bodies grew rounder. Trixie’s belly grew into a soft, jiggly ball that hung down over her thighs and swayed back and forth with every movement. Her breasts became full and heavy, and when she lay down, they rested on the upper part of her belly. Her behind had become so round and soft that she could barely sit upright without tipping backward. Flora and Cara were changing just as much. Their bellies turned into large, soft balls that almost completely covered their legs. Their hips and butts swelled, and their once-slender arms and legs grew thicker and softer. When they tried to stand up, they often just rolled to the side and lay there gasping, unable to pull themselves up.

“Please… more,” Cara begged one evening, after she’d already eaten so much cream that her belly was gleaming and taut. She lay on her back, her legs slightly spread beneath the weight of her belly, and reached out her arms toward Lilia.

“I can’t stop now. It’s too good.”

Lilia smiled and held another piece of cream cake to her mouth.

“Then keep eating. You look so cute when you’re so round and full.” Cara ate, and with every bite her belly seemed to swell just a little more. Flora lay next to her, moaning from being so full, while Eron carefully slid more spoonfuls of cream into her mouth. The young fairy could barely lift her head—her body had become so heavy. Her belly jiggled with every breath, and her breasts, which had also begun to fill out, lay softly against her upper curve. Trixie watched it all with a feeling of deep dependence. She, too, could no longer stop. When the humans came and brought food, she opened her mouth and ate until she was so full that all she could do was lie there and gasp for breath. Her body had become a soft, round mass. Her belly dominated everything—a large, jiggly sphere that moved with every touch. Her breasts were full and heavy, and her bottom was so wide and soft that she could barely feel her own legs anymore. When Eron lifted her, she felt like a soft, heavy ball of fat in his hand. People found the change not only unproblematic, but downright cute. They stroked the soft bellies, laughed softly when the fairies begged for more, and carried them from one place to another when the little creatures could no longer move on their own.

“They’ve become so cute,” Lilia said to Eron one evening as she set Trixie down on the table and held a butter cookie up to her mouth.

“All round and soft. And they look so happy doing it.”

Eron nodded and fed Flora, who had by then grown so fat that she could only lie on her back and open her mouth.

The weeks went by, and the fairies became increasingly immobile, lazier, more sluggish, and incredibly fat. Walking had long since become impossible. Even sitting was now only possible with support, and most of the time they simply lay there, their enormous, flabby bellies protruding before them, their arms and legs thick and soft and barely visible beneath the mass of their bodies. Their wings, now fully healed, lay uselessly at their sides. They were too heavy to even attempt to fly. Instead, they would sometimes flutter weakly when the fairies were particularly full and content, but that was all. Trixie, Flora, and Cara had turned into veritable balls of fat. From a human perspective, they looked like small, soft spheres of pure, jiggly fat. Their bellies were so large and heavy that they made up the majority of their bodies. The skin over them was soft and jiggly and folded into thick rings and rolls whenever they did move. Their breasts lay heavy and full on the upper curves of their bellies, and their butts were so wide and soft that they barely had a distinct shape anymore. When the humans lifted them, everything jiggled, and the fairies moaned with the pleasant sensation of movement and being stuffed to the brim. They kept begging for more. Even when they were so full they could barely breathe, they opened their mouths and asked for the next bite. Eron and Lilia gave them what they wanted. One piece of cake after another, spoonful after spoonful of pudding, and bowls full of sweet cream. The fairies ate until their bellies became even more plump and round. Until their skin was so taut that it glistened, and until they could do nothing but moan with being completely stuffed, unable to move properly anymore.

One evening, when the kitchen was quiet and only the soft hum of the electric lights could be heard, the three fairies lay side by side on a soft pillow that Eron had prepared for them. Their bodies were so round and immobile that from a distance they looked like large, flesh-colored balls. Trixie was breathing heavily; her enormous belly rose and fell slowly. Flora and Cara lay beside her, just as plump and round, their mouths still slightly open, as if they were waiting for the next bite. Earlier, Lilia had filled all three of them directly with thick buttercream straight from a piping bag. It had seemed to her as if she were filling doughnuts, and she’d had to laugh at the thought. With each of the three fairies, she’d placed a finger on their jiggly bellies and then squeezed the bag, so that a massive amount of cream had shot into the fairies’ mouths. She’d kept squeezing until she’d felt through her finger that the little body was reaching its limit. Each of the fairies was stuffed to bursting and nearly exploded with incredibly greasy cream. Lilia came into the kitchen, knelt down, and stroked Trixie’s belly. She thought it was so incredibly cute when the three little creatures lay there completely exhausted and bloated, breathing only in gasps.

“You’ve become so beautiful. All round and soft, and your skin is so delicate.”

Trixie moaned softly and opened her mouth to speak. “More… please. Just a little bit more.”

“Are you sure? You’re already so full and plump, like balls to play with,” Lilia said, a little worried.

Eron just laughed softly and immediately handed the elf a spoonful of cream. “Of course. As much as you want. You’re at home here, and we’ll feed you as long as you’re still hungry. If they want more, honey, we’ll give them more.”

The fairies happily continued eating—little, plump, insatiable balls that just wouldn’t stop swelling. Their bellies kept getting bigger, and their bodies became even rounder and softer. The three fairies could no longer move, and if they were honest with themselves, they didn’t want to anymore. The dependence on the sweet, heavy food was wonderful, and the humans gave them everything they asked for. In the Quintellas’ warm kitchen, surrounded by the scent of pastries and cream, three small, immobile balls of fat lay there, being fed more and more—happy, round, and heavy, with not a single thought of flying or of a life beyond this endless stream of delicacies. The story didn’t really end there, because the days went on just like that. None of them knew just how fat the three fairies would become, but why stop? For Trixie, Flora, and Cara, this was the end of their old life, because even if they had wanted to return to their true home, they would have been far too fat and heavy to manage it. They were home, in their new home, and they were overjoyed with the way things were now.