Sweet Nothings (Complete)

Sweet Nothings

Gabrielle stared at the cake slice in front of her. Grandma’s homemade Chocolate Death was a blue ribbon winner at the county fair for five years. Soft, moist, warm chocolate cake slathered in gooey, thick, fudgy chocolate icing and drizzled with sweet, tangy-tart raspberry sauce.

Gabby could taste the chocolate heaven already. Her tastebuds tingled in anticipation. She drooled just looking at it, locking her lips as she picked up her fork. This was her favorite dessert of Gram’s repertoire. She leaned forward, nose to the cake, closed her eyes, and inhaled. Sweet cocoa filled her lungs and teased her stomach. Her entire being ached for that first gooey, moist, chocolatey bite.

A sudden, loud bark of laughter broke into her concentration. Gabby jerked her head up. Grandpa and Aunt Margaret sat at the other end of the long farmhouse table, lingering over their own half eaten cakes. Marge threw her head back as she laughed heartily.

Aunt Margaret. Large Marge. Tub of lard. Gabby watched her plump aunt’s jowls quiver as her laughter died down to amused chuckles. Aunt Marge wore a 5X to hide what she claimed was leftover baby weight from her six kids. The youngest of them was in high school. Gabby’s gaze slid from her aunt’s rotund figure to the huge slab of cake on her plate. Partially eaten, it was still bigger than Gabby’s slice.

Not all that fat was baby weight. Gabby winced at her harsh thoughts. She had no room to talk; she had excess weight herself. Nowhere near as large as Marge. Not yet, anyway. But then, Gabby was a pathetic eighteen year old virgin who had never even kissed a guy. On top of that, her bladder leaked like a sieve and she wore diapers. Not thin, discreet pull ups that leaked easily, but big, puffy, noisy, hard to hide diapers.

Gabby was going to change all that. Lose the pudge. Become pretty. Become skinny. The diapers she could not help, but if she was skinny and pretty, maybe she’d have a chance with the boys. She’d be just like Aunt Marge’s oldest girl, Angel. Just like her friend Kaoru. Gabby was trying; she’d taken a tiny slice of cake instead of the big slab she usually took. Smaller piece for fewer calories yet she still got to enjoy her favorite, decadent treat. Pretty, skinny Angel had declined any cake.

Gabby twirled her fork in the air, just above her cake, as she thought of Angel’s tiny, trim waist. Even less calories if she put the cake back. She’d get skinnier sooner if she didn’t eat it. But it was so moist and gooey and fudgey. Maybe just a few bites, to satisfy her craving…and she could do extra exercise to make up for a bit of decadent indulgence. She would be extra strict with her calories and food choices over the next couple days to help compensate.

She shoved a huge forkful into her mouth and instantly melted at the first, heavenly bite. She closed her eyes, savoring the gooey morsel. The soft, spongy cake melted on her tongue while the thick, chocolate icing stuck to the roof of her mouth. Sweet, sugary milk chocolate, bitter dark chased by tangy raspberry danced over her tastebuds. Her senses, her entire being, drowned in chocolatey delight. “Mmmmm.” She moaned her appreciation; she could die happy right now.

She swallowed with a contented sigh, her entire body relaxing in satisfaction. A wave of warmth enveloped her crotch as her bladder let loose. The thick, slightly damp padding swaddling her absorbed it all as some urine trickled between her legs to swell over her ample backside. The diaper held it all. The thick, squishy padding further soothed and relaxed her, amplifying the effects of the chocolate.

Even after wearing these diapers for several months, she was still amazed at their capacity. They were huge. Monstrous. Godzilla diapers. So thick it was like wearing a pillow. The wide, bulky crotch forced her pudgy thighs apart, giving her an awkward waddle. They came up nearly up to her sternum. Concealment was huge diaper bulge of a problem. She’d taken to wearing loose, flowing dresses and skirts. The generous cut of the garments helped hide her pudgy rolls and ginormous diaper.

The loud noise was something she could never hide. She crinkled everywhere she went. She’d given up trying to conceal it. In a way, the constant rustling reassured her she was protected. Every waddling step mean she was safe from embarrassing leaks. Her pull ups had leaked daily; they just could not keep up with her bladder. Wet pants for the world to see. To jeer at. She’d been the laughing stock of her entire school. The world did not associate her crinkly waddle with diapers or pee right away. Bulky diapers were more discrete than wet pants.

Her diapers made her feel secure and confident. A big girl who kept herself dry. She no longer peed in her clothes or on furniture. She shifted on her hard, wooden kitchen chair. Her soggy diaper squished and crinkled as she savored another bite of cake. “Mmmm.” She moaned again as the sugary sweetness melted on her tongue.

Re: Sweet Nothings


I’m thinking for the moment that Gabby’s a good girl who never got in severe trouble (no law-breaking); she’s definitely out in the open from what I’m seeing so far. Addressing these can wait for the next installment:

  1. Who changes her diapers?
  2. How is her bowel control?


Re: Sweet Nothings

Thank you for commenting! Yes, Gabby’s diaper wearing is well known among her family. Before diapers, she was wearing pull-ups that frequently leaked, so her family frequently saw her with wet pants. She changes her own diapers, and she occasionally has messy accidents.

“Good cake, isn’t it, dearie?” Aunt Marge chuckled from the other end of the kitchen table.

Gabby nodded, mouth full of cake. She blushed at being caught moaning. She wished she could be like Aunt Marge, who did not care what she looked like. Aunt Marge was comfortable in her stretchmark covered skin and brushed off other people’s comments with unflappable self confidence. Uncle Louie took Aunt Marge line dancing every Thursday night. Large Marge in a bright, tropical print dress, pearls, heavy make up and bouffant hair. She was just as self-assured as the twiggy girls.

Gabby took a long drink of milk followed by another bite of cake. Maybe how awkward and clumsy she always felt- uncomfortable in her own skin, hating her body- had more to do with how she thought about herself and less about her extra pounds? Aunt Marge was happily married for three decades despite being large. Maybe Gabby just needed to find the right man. One who wouldn’t mind she was fat and needed diapers.

She took another bite, lost in her own thoughts. Maybe Aunt Marge was just lucky and Gabby was asking for too much.

Aunt Marge watched Gabby over the rim of her coffee cup. “I wish Angel was more like you, Gabby. She should learn to enjoy her food. You only live once, and food is part of life.” She looked over at Gramps, who nodded as he noisily slurped his own coffee.

Gabby took another bite of cake to suppress her snort. Blonde, blue-eyed, model thin Angel should be more like her? Ridiculous. Ludicrous. Hilarious. She frowned at the sour thoughts as she lolled cake and icing around in her mouth. The sugary sweetness melted the rising tension in her body, helping her emotions and look at things more objectively. If anything, Gabby should be more like Angel. Strict with food. Vigorous with exercise. Eat vegetarian. Vegan? She didn’t know what the difference was. Gluten free? Paleo diet? Angel was always throwing those terms around. They all sounded so trendy and not-appetizing. Whatever the current diet fad du-jour was, pretty, skinny Angel would never eat horribly unhealthy cake.

Her friend Kaoru would. Gabby sighed, missing her friend who lived so far from her. Kaoru was so pretty and so tiny she was frail. Like a dainty porcelain doll. Gabby would give anything to look like that, even if it meant having Kaoru’s disabilities. Like the gastroparesis that prevented Kaoru from digesting food like a normal, healthy person. She had a gastrostomy tube; a surgically created hole in her stomach so she could be hooked up to a tube and feeding pump.

Gabby should have been horrified at the thought, but she was so desperate to get rid of her blubber she’d let doctors cut a hole in her own stomach and have soupy goop pumped into her via medical tubing if it meant becoming skinny. She chewed her last bite, barely tasting the rich chocolate she so loved. She pictured Angel and Kaoru- their flat stomachs. Kaoru was even tinier than slender Angel. Kaoru’s stomach curved in and her bones pressed against her skin. So pretty. If Gabby looked like that, then boys would look at her. Like they looked at Angel. If Gabby was that small, she could get smaller diapers. Maybe ones with cute prints instead of the ugly, plain white she wore now. Even her diapers would be pretty and cute if she was tiny. Then, her body would feel like her own. Skinny; that was how her body should look.

She absentmindedly licked the chocolate crumbs and sticky icing off her fork as she pictured herself skinny. Sexy clothes that showed off her curves, like Angel wore. Something not from the plus-size department. Some of the fashionable, trendy stores Angel loved, like Abercrombie and Fitch, did not want fat cows like Gabby in their clothes, devaluing their label. Gabby had read an interview of some asshole CEO of a fashion label slamming and body-shaming plus sized girls in one of Angel’s fashion magazines.

When Gabby was skinny, she could shop at those fashionable stores. Good bye Deb and Lane Bryant. Hello Hollister. She’d go to Abercrombie, try on a bunch of their over priced clothes then dump them on the snooty sales clerk with a “nope, changed my mind” and waltz out with her small ass sashaying.

She almost giggled at the thought, her insides feeling fuzzy and giddy. Total bitch move. But she’d be skinny and pretty- she could be a bitch and get away with it. Angel treated boys lower than dog poop, yet they still threw themselves at her feet because she was hot, a total 10 on the rating scale. Flabby Gabby was a 2 or 3, noticeable only when she made them gag. Angel was everything Gabby was not. Only plastic surgery could fix Gabby’s facial flaws, but Gabby could at least make herself skinny.

Which was not going to happen if she continued to eat like a pig. Oink oink baby. Gabby stared down at the chocolate smeared porcelain plate. What had she done? She was so, so stupid for eating all that calorie laden, fattening cake. She had no self control. Already she could feel the added calories, feel her body expanding with all that added fat. If she kept this up, soon she’d be on TLC’s My 600 lb. Life in bariatric diapers.

Flabby Gabby! The old taunts from school rang through her head like requiem bells. Her dreams of being skinny died before she could even start an effective diet. Warm wetness suddenly surrounded her crotch as her bladder unexpectedly let loose. She felt the padding of her diaper swell as it absorbed her urine. She couldn’t control her bladder, let alone her horrible eating habits. Fat cow with no self control.

Re: Sweet Nothings

Well you’ve got my interest, and I’m really not sure why. That’s a good thing, actually; because I know what stories instantly get me looked. This isn’t that subject matter at all.

But you’ve got such vivid internal dialogue going on here, I just have to see where it goes.
I guess you probably struck a chord with how much I love food. I have a whole mouth full of sweet teeth (and yes, some cavities as trophies) so I can totally sympathize with someone who likes for that much.

Part of my brain is saying “nah, I like cute stories about attractive people,” but I told it to shut up. This is a good start to an interesting take on a subject that I imagine is pretty rare in the first place; his could you say no to that?

Do carry on…

… But you gotta warn people about the content of your stories; I really want cake right now, and it’s your fault. :stuck_out_tongue:

Also, this story shares a title with a beautiful song from one of my all time favorite bands. Probably unrelated, but definitely worth a listen. https://youtu.be/2dIcaefqEkk

Re: Sweet Nothings

Seconding the overall message of the one above this. I normally can’t stand stories not about skinny people - I don’t care whether they’re attractive or not, but fat has been a turnoff for a very long time. Probably because I myself have been rail-thin all my life no matter what or how much I eat, so the idea of reading about someone who is not just seems… weird to me. Which in itself is weird considering several of my best friends throughout life have been fairly heavy, but I may just be more judgmental of characters than real people.

That being said, I gotta say, I like this one so far. The prose is pretty engaging, enough to make me look past my own preferences and enjoy the story for what it is rather than what I want out of it. And just saying, this is probably either the first or second story I’ve been able to do that with, ABDL or otherwise. Long story short, I’m thoroughly impressed.

Definitely going to be following this for a while. I have to at least stick around until I find one flaw to point out (seriously, I haven’t found a single thing wrong yet, and praising can only be so useful on its own) and help you get rid of, right?

Re: Sweet Nothings

I’m finding an underlying message here: “Real beauty is only skin-deep regardless of how many layers there are”. I use to be rather large myself, but I managed to get rid of it while I was in college due to excessive walking; I was 315 at the time. MORE PLEASE!

P.S. THX for the confirmations

Re: Sweet Nothings

Thanks for the feedback and comments. I’m glad you’re enjoying this, especially those of you who are normally put off by such characters.:3

Vearynope- I hear ya on the sweet tooth. Thanks for the link to the song, always good to hear new stuff. ^^ Just for you: warning; this story contains chocolate cake! ^.~ (I tease, I tease). This story actually started off as me just really wanting a piece of chocolate cake LOL.

Xenonvoid- I’m glad you’re able to enjoy this even if it isn’t your usual cup of tea. Praise is always nice (hell, what writer or aspiring writer doesn’t love praise lol?) but having flaws and mistakes pointed out helps a writer grow and learn. :3

Kaidus; Yes, that could be an applicable theme for this story. Sounds like you did a lot of walking. But exercise is good and healthy. :slight_smile:

Gabby so flabby.

Flabby Gabby.

Fatty watty. [/i]

“NO!” Gabby slammed her pudgy fists down hard on the kitchen table. 'SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP I WILL GET SKINNY I WILL. She thought hard in a repeating mantra, screaming right back at the taunting voices in her head. She stood up so abruptly her chair almost fell over.

“Gabby? Sweetheart, are you okay?” Aunt Marge and Gramps both stared at her with identical concerned looks.

Gabby stared right back, realizing she must have spoken some of her thoughts out loud. She immediately hitched a big grin on her face. “Yes. Sure. I’m fine. I just gotta go. Bathroom. You know.” Both sets of eyes flicked to her waist, clearly thinking she meant she needed a diaper change. She blushed and grabbed her plate.

“Okay.” Aunt Marge said doubtfully. Gabby felt their eyes on her the entire time as she picked up Gramp’s empty cake plate and hurried over to the sink. Her diaper crinkled noisily all the way; the warm, soggy padding clung to her crotch and provided a little comfort.

As she set the plates and forks into the sink, she caught sight of her reflection in the shiny metal of the toaster. Chocolate ringed her lips; her double chin bulged out like a frog’s throat. The voices started up again, a mixture of remembered taunts from her classmates and her own self recriminations.

[i]A moment on the lips, forever on the hips.

Miss Piggy. Miss Piggy

Oink oink baby.
Her own thoughts taunted her, the part of her that yearned to be thin. NO! She shook her head, trying to stop the mental onslaught, then dashed, waddling and crinkling, to the bathroom. She missed the looks of concern on her aunt and grandfather’s faces.

Somehow the taunting of bullies had morphed into her own self-doubts. The only way to make those horrible voices stop was to change what was wrong with her. No more cake. No more iced tea. Just healthy foods. Maybe a fruit and veggie fast to knock off a few extra calories. Calories were the enemy. All that yummy food she so loved had turned her into the hippo she was today. Food was the enemy. She had to be disciplined; she could not let it trick her into gaining any more weight.

Too late, too late. You’re gaining more weight.

Another trickle of warmth pushed her huge diaper closer to its tremendous capacity. The swollen, soggy padding barely whisked away her pee. She barely noticed the damp feeling swaddling her crotch; a warning she’d need to change soon. The warning only registered in the very back of her brain. The jeering thoughts filled her brain, echoing through her skull.

Fatty fatty two by four can’t fit through the bathroom door so she pissed on the floor.

“SHUT UP!” Gabby cried out loud, hands clasped over her ears as the voices continued. The delicious cake she’d so enjoyed was a cold lump of regret in her stomach. The voices only taunted her further.

Next on My 600 Pound Life: Flabby Gabby the Fat Farmgirl.

“I SAID SHUT UP!” She punched herself in the head; pain blossomed in her temple and her knuckles throbbed. A few drops of pee spurted out. She shook her head.

No wonder no one likes you. You deserve it. Just look at all that blubber. Land whale.

She stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Her breathing was hard and heavy as she bent over, shaking in anger at herself and full of disgust. It was just one tiny piece of cake. She was over reacting. Wasn’t she? Maybe not- a little nibble here and a yummy bite there added up. She turned to the full length bathroom mirror on the wall by the frosted glass window, gazing at her reflection, hoping to see that annoying voice was wrong.

All she saw was blubber. Jabba the Hutt. The Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters. She shuddered, wanting to look away, but she made herself stare at her body in the mirror. See the truth. Learn what she had to work with.

Bariatric diapers are your future. What happened to your diet? Becoming skinny? Don’t you want to be pretty? Tubbo. Lardo. You can’t do anything but stuff your fat face with cake.

The cake. She never should have had any. Calorie setback no amount of exercise could ever erase. Without those extra calories, she would’ve burned off more of her current weight instead of increasing it.

The scrumptious chocolate coalesced into a leaden ball of regret roiling in her stomach. She rubbed her abdomen, poking at her pudgy rolls. Beneath her purple sweater, she felt the thick, smooth plastic of her diaper crinkle under her fingertips. If only she could undo it. Erase her mistake.

Re: Sweet Nothings

I feel so bad for Gabby that I wish I could lay her down and change her diaper just to show that I care for her; I’ve been in her situation just to remind you. After college, I drove for around 8 months, but have been scared to and after wrecking 2 cars, I turned to cycling and continue to shed pounds; my own diet leaves more to be desired if you know what I mean. I haven’t weighed myself lately, but I’m definitely not the same weight I was 13 years ago; THX for finding meaning in my thought for the story’s moral. MORE PLEASE!

Re: Sweet Nothings

How do you undo a bad decision like that? You don’t. She can’t. She was stuck with all those extra calories. Already she could feel her gut expanding. She hugged her pudgy stomach, pressing into her rolls and wishing them all away. Wishing her stomach was empty, like last year when she caught that nasty virus that made her puke everything up….

Her gaze fell to the toothbrush holder by the sink. If she puked the cake up, it would be like she’d never eaten it at all….she could undo it….erase her mistake……her toothbrush handle looked long enough to gag on……

Gabby’s eyes widened. No! That was crazy! Stupid! Yet she could feel the cellulite in her fat thighs expanding as her body converted all that yummy chocolate and sugar into lard, lard, and more lard.

Maybe you can get on My 600 Pound Life and stuff your fat, ugly face on camera so the whole world can see how disgusting you are. Her inner voice taunted.

She needed to shrink her waistline, not expand it. The voice was right. She was too fat, and she needed to do something about it, NOW. Take back that cake. Erase it. Puke it up and get rid of it.

With shaking, anxious hands, Gabby snatched her plastic toothbrush and shoved the handle down her throat. She gagged, eyes watering, and immediately spat it out. She couldn’t do this; it was insane. Her heart pounded as she panted heavily, leaning over the sink. Wiping at her watery eyes, she gazed up at herself in the mirror above the sink.

Double chin. Fat chipmunk cheeks. Little beady piggy eyes. She’d never be pretty like Angel or Kaoru. Tears burned her eyes and for one wild moment she wanted another piece of cake.

“NO!” Gabby’s eyes shot wide open in desperate resolution. The bristles of her brush she gripped in a tight fist and jammed the end down her throat, right past the gagging point too fast for her body to instantly react. Her teeth bit into the soft, plump flesh of her hand as she kept on shoving.

She coughed, gagged, and shuddered as her body fought to rid itself of the invading object. Her stomach heaved. She shoved down harder. Her eyes streamed and her diaper grew wet as she staggered, legs splayed and shaking. She pushed the brush further down her throat. Her hand stung from her teeth. Her stomach churned and rolled, muscles contracting as she fought her body.

One final contraction sent Gabby crashing to her knees in front of the toilet. Her diaper squished and the toothbrush clattered to the floor as she buried her face in the toilet bowl. Her body rocked forward with the force of the first heave as she emptied her stomach.

Sweating and shaking, Gabby gripped the sides of the cold porcelain. Still in the throes of gagging, she bent forward and heaved again. A long, loud fart erupted from her padded backside as pressure was put on her bowels. She felt the back of her diaper expanding and filling up with a big, warm pile.

She puked and pooped simultaneously from both orifices, along with spurts of warm pee, until she was empty. She collapsed bonelessly against the toilet seat, exhausted. Her cheek rested on the cold seat, spittle flecking her lips. Her poopy posterior sank onto the floor. The pressure of the hard tiles mushed a wave of the thick, stinky poo forward all over her urine soaked crotch and another wave up over her butt, onto the small of her back. Her gigantic diaper could barely contain it all.

Once upon a time, she had been horrified and disgusted when her friend Kaoru accidentally messed her diaper at the playground when they were hanging off the monkey bars. Now, Gabby barely noticed the huge mess filling her own diaper. She just stared tiredly down into the toilet bowl at the floating bits of partially digested cake crumbs and icing gobs.

She should be disgusted and ashamed. In the back of her head, she knew this wasn’t right, but all she felt was relief. Her lips twitched in a tired smile. Gone. Undone. No more cake. No more calories.

Good girl. You feel better now. You look better already. Thinner.

Her smile widened at her accomplishment. Even that nasty little voice agreed with her.

Re: Sweet Nothings

Gabby definitely needs a confidence boost along with a diaper change; I’d give her both if I could. Still enjoying it though; MORE PLEASE!

Re: Sweet Nothings

I find this story dark and disturbing, but it rings true: food addiction, being unable to resist tempting cake, bulimia/binge-and-purge, bariatric diapers, beating herself up about her eating.

Re: Sweet Nothings

This is my favorite story of yours. Usually, your character face hideous disfigurement, such as Cameron and Kaoru in Tricky Treats, but this is a more internal enemy.

It is deeply sensual, both in ways that are disgusting and exciting, but the combination of revulsion and attraction, both from the content of the story, and the feelings of Gabby, make this your most moving and visceral story that I have read [I loved “How Leopards Got Their Spots!”]

I confess that I find it both very stimulating, and also very emotional in a one-two punch that is amazing.

I look forward to her negotiating her feelings, finding self-love, self-hate, and more godzilla diapers that go up the sternum.

Re: Sweet Nothings

Thank you for commenting and sharing your thoughts and opinions. :slight_smile:

But you’ve still got a ways to go.

Gabby knew the voice in her head, personification of her turbulent feelings, was right. But she’d taken a step in the right direction. She felt better than she had in a long time. No more regrets, no more failed diets. This was the perfect fail-safe for any future lapses in dietary judgement.

She rubbed her diaper covered stomach, feeling some poo squish with a crinkle under the pressure of her fingertips. She winced at the bulge of her stomach, oblivious to the stench of her puke and shit. Too obsessed with her pudge to notice.

‘I can’t wait to watch you shrink.’ She thought. Already, she felt smaller, unlike the lumbering ox she usually felt like.

The horrible, mocking voice in her head shut up. Stayed silent. Stopped now that she’d gotten rid of the cake. She never should have eating it. Regret tugged at her. But it had been so delicious. Even more so because she knew it was bad for her. Wrong. It would turn her into Large Marge. She shivered. But it was all okay now. She got rid of that cake. Her regret faded like a dream. She’d erased her mistake. Puked out all that fat and calories.

Throwing up food. Crazy. Wrong. She knew better. But it felt so right. She was just correcting a lapse in judgement. What she’d done was a good thing. Erasing a mistake. Besides, it was just this one time. She wouldn’t do it again. She’d have better self control in the future.

Gabby bit her lower lip as her hand slid under her shirt to rub the slippery smooth front panel of her diaper. Her mess squished under the thick, pee soaked padding. The cake floating in the toilet no longer looked appetizing now that it had been in her stomach. Digesting. Turning into more fat to expand her fat gut. Forcing herself to puke had been the right choice. Necessary to fix that mistake. Was that really so bad?

The diaper’s thick padding smoothed out her pudgy rolls. She was in control. She knew what she was doing. She hadn’t felt this sure, this confident and decisive in a long time. She was not like those girls the school nurse talked about in Health class. The ones who ended up in hospitals and clinics with eating disorders. Those idiots went too far, lost themselves. Became their disease. It ate them alive. They were sloppy. Careless. Indulged too much. Gabby knew better. She knew what she was doing.

Knuckled wrapped on the door. “Gabby, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah. I’m fine.” Gabby croaked, spittle running down her cheek and plopping onto the toilet seat Panic swelled in her sore throat. Forcing herself to throw up had not been pleasant. Necessary, but painful. Beauty was pain, and she wanted to be beautiful. Aunt Marge would never understand.

“You sure?” Aunt Marge’s voice dripped scepticism. “You didn’t look so good at the table. Just thought I’d check on you. The way you ran out of there like the devil was after you….just seemed like something was wrong.”

Did she know? Suspect? She was a veteran mother- surely she knew something was wrong. Gabby had to act quick, do something to get her off her tail. Throw the old bloodhound a bone, unless you want her to ruin all your hard work.

“Ummmm…actually…I…I kinda…sorta…had an…accident….”

“What happened, Sweetie?”

The lie clogged Gabby’s throat. Her family knew about her diapers, but discussing what she did in them was a different matter. She handled her own diapers. She struggled to get the words out. She shifted, diaper crinkling loudly as the mushy mess coating her backside slid around. It’s not a lie. Not really. More of a half truth.

“Gabby?” Marge asked again in the lengthening silence.

“I’m just n-not feeling good, Auntie Marge. I’m f-fine, really.” Gabby insisted hoarsely. Inside her mouth felt disgusting. She wanted to brush her teeth and gargle.

“You don’t sound fine. You’re sick, and you had an accident?” She waited expectantly. When Gabby didn’t elaborate, she continued, “I’m coming in.”

“NO!” Gabby shouted, eyes widening to saucers as horror washed over her. She could always say she just threw up from being sick. Aunt Marge would buy that. Maybe. Or maybe it would just make her suspicious. ‘Oh, just go away.’ Gabby silently pleaded. “I-um-I had a diaper blow out!” she blurted in panic. “So….so…I’m just gonna take a shower.” She spoke, forcing herself to sound calm. Her words still trembled as they fell off her tongue.

“Poor dear. You need anything?” Aunt Marge clucked her tongue in sympathy.

Let her think she’s being helpful, then she’ll leave you alone.

“Y-yeah…um…if you don’t mind…um…ah…errrr….a…a new d-diaper. Please?” Her chipmunk cheeks flamed. She was not used to talking about her diapers.

“Of course, dearie. And some cream. Make sure you put a lot on to prevent rashes.”

“Thank you.” Gabby squeaked and waited with baited breath as her aunt’s footsteps retreated.

Such a clever, skinny girl.

She flushed the toilet, getting rid of the evidence of her mistake. “Bye-bye fat.” She waved with a small, satisfied smile. She stared down at the chewed up cake swirling in the water before being flushed. Such a decadent, sinfully sweet dessert. All those calories. All that fat. A deadly, delicious trap.

But she didn’t fall for it. No calories for her. No more fat. She was going to lose her fat, not gain more. She smiled as she stripped down to just her soaked, dirty diaper. That cake was just a sweet nothing.

The End

Since this story is short, some of you may be wondering about Gabby’s ultimate fate, so I’ll throw out a few thoughts I have. She’s at the start of a slippery slope. This story was all about her first big step down said slope. I have the beginnings of another story in mind for her. I don’t know if I’ll ever get around to writing it, so I’ll tell you about it here.

Gabby ends up with an eating disorder. She looses the weight she’s always wanted, plus much more. She ends up in an in-patient clinic specializing in eating disorders. She has a big mental battle with herself as she fights to overcome her disease. She meets other girls in the clinic battling various eating disorders, too. This clinic is a little different- to keep the patients from flushing food/ hiding things like laxatives in the toilets…there are no toilets. All the patients wear diapers. As for the ending- Gabby will get better, and make some friends along the way, but recovery is a long, hard road.

Re: Sweet Nothings (Complete)

I really want to type out several paragraphs of praise. But I think I’ll just start rambling, and the point I wished to make will be lost.

You really hit home with me on this one.
Especially considering I cannot relate to the character, or their plight, in any way; you’ve done a great job of letting me understand them.
Also noteworthy is what you’ve done with, what, twenty minutes of plot-time? That’s some impressive character development.
I wish I could do that. :’(

Anyway, you don’t have to write more story for her; this one feels very complete as it is…
But this:

Is a brilliantly novel idea. ;D

Good job overall!

Re: Sweet Nothings (Complete)

Yeah, this was a really brilliant vignette. The relatability of Gabby here is just… shit, I don’t have enough adjectives in my vocabulary to tell you how great a job you did on this one. :slight_smile:

Re: Sweet Nothings (Complete)

Gabby’s live is very foreign to me, and yet you put me right inside her head, sad a place as it is. Much praise.

Re: Sweet Nothings

Wow this one was definitely one I’m sure some girls can relate too. It was the chilling inner dialogue that left my stomach turning. The action itself was close to correct. However a bit inaccurate. But the after effects her mind and body felt were pretty dead on. Thanks for this story. Your so good at making sure there’s enough in your writing to clearly see and feel what your character is feeling.

Re: Sweet Nothings

Oh yeah I just realized I only said some girls can relate too. Guys struggle with this too. I don’t want to leave them feeling ignored or excluded hehe

Re: Sweet Nothings

Thanks for the feedback. :3 And very true, guys can have eating disorders, too. This might be a bit gross, but what could I change to make it more accurate? I’m all about improving, especially if I’m getting my facts or portrayals wrong.

Re: Sweet Nothings (Complete)

Yeah, this was definitely one of your masterworks in terms of characterization and internal dialogue. Devastatingly beautiful. And to think it was a spinoff of a short story you didn’t mean to get so long…