20,21,22,23,24 with Dwyer
20) character weighing after a long time
21) character embarrassed about size, weight, etc
22) rapid weight gain
23) forced weight gain
24) forced feeding
Rubbing his stomach, Dwyer groans as it complains at him, his taut skin stretched from his feeding. Lying down on the foreign plush bed, Dwyer does nothing but try and soothe his aching stomach.
His laziness finally caught up to him one day in the deeprealms. Taking his sweet time after a battle, he straggled behind the rest of the group, eventually getting separated. Despite his fervent attempts in finding his companions, he remained lost until nightfall. Setting camp as his only hope, weariness set in and forced him to sleep. When he woke up, he found himself in a room, the extravagance of the room not lost on him. A room with all the amenities needed. Well, most amenities; Dwyer had clothes but all were always a size a tad too small, shirts either pinching his flabby arms, showing his stomach, or tearing in places. His pants usually went unbuttoned, the pressure too uncomfortable.
Plus, it wasn't like Dwyer was ever seeing anyone. His door was locked 24/7, the sole window in his room contained bars to stop him, and if he could escape through the window, he had a long way to drop, his room on the edge of wherever building he was, located by the sea, the waves his only accompanying noise besides his chewing or gurgling stomach. The dumbwaiter only worked from wherever it came from. When he was skinnier and once fit inside it, Dwyer had waited for two days inside it. Instead, the dumbwaiter never descended, his captive likely aware of his plot.
Dwyer was trapped. His only real activities being to eat and sleep.
Stomach still hurting, Dwyer groans at the sound of the dumbwaiter ascending, still to full to pack another morsel into his stomach. The sweet scent of cookies wafts to his nose, the plate of them now waiting for him. Dwyer ignores them instead. Eyes closed as he lies down, Dwyer startles at a cookie cramming its way into his mouth. Choking as he swallows it down, Dwyer sits up. The cookies floating in the air, enchanted by a spell, they form a procession, each one taking its turn to go inside Dwyer. Despite his hands snacking them and his shirt mouth, each and every single cookie eventually finds its way into his stomach, Dwyer panting from too much. Sleep his only respite, Dwyer shuts his eyes and ignores the ache in his stomach, counting sheep to aid him.
The days continue passing by, Dwyer feeling mad with sustained lack of human contact. Only eating and sleeping, the weight piled onto his body. The once tight, small clothing was no more, none of them able to fit onto his fattened frame. His only sense of modesty being the bedsheets Dwyer fashioned over himself. No longer able to really fight against the enchanted food, his large arms too heavy to lift with ease, Dwyer opens his mouth, the cookies entering faster than they once did.
His dessert finished, Dwyer lies down, eyes on the ceiling. Better that than his whale of a body. Lucky to have a diary and pen in his room, the items were chained to his desk on the other side of the room. Too fat and lazy to walk over there, the items sat collecting dust, once used for Dwyer to ponder his situation. The hope fading as Dwyer's immobility crept closer with each meal. For even if he could escape, what use would he be as a whale?
Hearing the dumbwaiter once again, Dwyer huffs as he gets up. No longer able to simply sit up, the process was full of shuffling and scooting, his body shaking. Clearing his throat from the effort, Dwyer sighs as his feet hit the floor. The little energy left dissapears from seeing the dumbwaiter's contents.
A scale.
Ignoring it, Dwyer huffs as he rests his hands on his knees, his stomach over them. A clamor by his feet, Dwyer jolts at the sight of the scale in front of him. Blushing, he ignores it further. Time continuing its passage, Dwyer remains seated on his bed, the scale untouched. The bed shaking from not weighing himself is what convinces Dwyer.
"Alright, already," he grumbles as he stands up, bones cracking from their disuse. Steadying himself from the lightheadedness, Dwyer breathes in and out as he takes a step forward, the number rocketing up with just one foot. Both feet on, Dwyer waits a couple of seconds. Unable to see the number underneath his stomach, Dwyer happily gets off, resting his tired feet by sitting down.
The scale returns to the descending dumbwaiter. Expecting nothing more, Dwyer adjusts his bedsheets, struggling to reach the expanse of his body. Lying comfortably down, head resting on his pillow, Dwyer's eyes shoot open as the dumbwaiter ascends once more.
A cookie floats in front of his face. Covered in frosting depicting the number '6' it waits a second before cramming its way into Dwyer's mouth. Another cookie with '5' on it does the same, that one followed by one with '7' on it.
The cookies digesting, Dwyer groans at the realization.
657 pounds.
Sleep the best way to ignore such a reality, he huffs as he struggles to get comfortable, the fact stuck in his mind. Before he can fall asleep, the dumbwaiter ascends again.