A mirror hangs above you. It's the only way you can watch what's happening to you. You can barely move anymore. Your body is so heavy that it's difficult to do anything except lay there, splayed out like a beached whale. You're too fat to walk, too heavy to sit up. And you’re so weak that you can barely move your arms anymore.
The sheets are soaked with your sweat, and your hair is a tangled mess. The bed creaks ominously beneath you, and the room is filled with the sounds of your gasping and wheezing.
You stare up at the mirror, at your body that's grown fatter than you ever thought possible. It spills out over the bed. Your bloated belly rising up off the mattress. Your thick thighs bulging with excess fat. Your immense, lard-filled ass. You see the huge tits sagging off your chest. Your useless, obscenely flabby arms. Your fat face. Your stretch-marked skin.
You see that your body has become something completely foreign to you. Something completely unrecognizable as human. Something any normal person would instantly say is disgusting, repulsive, grotesque, obscene… but to you it is exquisitely beautiful and the best thing that ever happened to you.
You look in the mirror and see the pleasure in your own eyes. You see the look of satisfaction on your own face, a face that you barely even recognize anymore. You see the delight in your own expression, watching as your body gets bigger and bigger with each passing day.
You moan loudly as I slowly slide another huge slice of cake into your greedy mouth. Your belly gurgles and groans, stuffed full of rich, fattening food. Your breathing is ragged and heavy as you chew and swallow the deliciously dense, gooey and decadent dessert. Sweat beads on your forehead, and your whole body quivers with pleasure and exertion.
It takes you only a moment to finish the cake, and you gulp down the last bite, the thick, rich icing sticking to your lips. You take a few moments to catch your breath, struggling to breathe as your poor, overstuffed gut gurgles and groans. You look like a mess, sweating and panting as you sit there, your enormous, bloated belly rising up in front of you, covered in crumbs and smudges of frosting.
You feel so heavy, so stuffed, so full. It's an amazing feeling. Your stomach gurgles and rumbles as it works hard to process the massive amount of food you've stuffed into it. You're so full you can hardly move. You can barely even lift your arms. The sheer mass of your belly makes it difficult to even breathe.
"You're such a good pig," I say, reaching over to rub your belly. Seeing you glutting yourself like this turns me on like crazy. Watching you surrender yourself completely to gluttony, giving in completely to your hedonistic desires, seeing you grow bigger and heavier and lazier with every passing day. It's incredible.
I continue to lovingly rub your belly as you sit back in your chair. You're so cute when you're stuffed full like this, sweating and panting, struggling to breathe as your poor, bloated gut gurgles and groans. You let out a loud burp as I rub your belly, making me laugh. You look embarrassed for a moment, but then you smile and lean back a little more.
"You're so sexy when you eat," I tell you as I gently rub your swollen stomach.
You smile, blushing as I continue to tell you what a perfect pig you are while forcing more food into your belly.
