Obesity
I can’t be the only one who’s addicted to fat, right? There’s just something so deliciously indulgent about it, the way it slowly creeps up on you, the way it jiggles and is able to be squeezed. The thought that an each feast will contribute to more blubber, an added bonus to doing something that everyone loves to do, eat. The day after pigging out still feeling the after effects, rubbing your hands across your body, poking and prodding your bloated fat, squeezing and watching it jiggle. Realizing how your body never used to be so sensitive, how each slight touch sends pleasure throughout your growing body, slowly rewiring your brain to love the sensation, to crave it, to want more. Before you even realize it, your pants are off, and you are craving for release. Your thoughts clouded by food and the need to be bigger. You start getting hungry at the thought, since you know the release will be even better when you are so bloated you can hardly catch your breath and barely move without your bulging belly almost in pain from food. Then before you know it you finish and it’s the best you’ve ever felt, that’s the cycle, the inescapable trap you entered, you want that feeling every second of the day, so the first thing is to get another feast to do it all over again.
