i love the idea of being so addicted to getting fatter that you physically can’t stop yourself from eating more than you should
it starts small, indulging in a few cravings. you ate lunch, but it wouldn’t hurt to swing by the coffee shop on the way home from work for a doughnut. and after dinner that night, you might as well finish off the pint of ice cream in the freezer. you meant to only have a couple scoops, but 3/4 of the tub isn’t that crazy
then you start catching yourself thinking about having four meals a day instead of three. breakfast before work, lunch on your break, a stop at the drive thru on the way home, and dinner to top it all off. it sounds exciting, letting yourself go a little wild like that, so what could it hurt?
a few weeks in, you’re starting to notice it on your figure. your belly sticks out, you have to loosen your belt by a notch, the sleeves of your shirts feel a little tighter around your arms
but that’s even more exciting
your meals grow, two taking up the space of one, and the tightness in your belly, the vague wooziness, the euphoria of knowing you’re already creeping up on your daily “limit” of calories all in one sitting… it’s addicting
you spend the better part of your day stuffed to the gills, belly straining against your clothes, meals never missed, and moments in-between have at least one of your hands in a bag of snacks. you’re loath to let the tight, full feeling in your belly dissipate. you always want your stomach chewing on something, giving your body no time to work through the excess fat accumulating under your skin. it’s exciting, watching it pile on, especially when you’re cramming even more food into your mouth
your fat multiplies, and with that, so does your appetite, and with that, your urge to stuff yourself even more
you fondle your belly, pinch your hips, wobble your thighs, and grunt every time you have to stand your fat ass up to grab another plate heaped with food
it reaches a point where you’re gasping, whimpering, moaning as you sit, surrounded by rolls and layers of lard, and shoving treat after treat into your mouth. you hardly even chew, completely desperate to cram as much food into your body as you can, delirious under your gluttony as it completely takes over your pleasure receptors
your stomach hurts, just a little, from how much you’ve eaten, but it makes your head spin. you know you should stop, but the thrill keeps you going. your belly is red, round, and firm to the touch even when it’s so soft and wide that it takes up the space of three people. but you keep eating. you can practically feel the fat melting onto your body, making you heavier, wider, flabbier
it makes you eat even faster. a vicious cycle, never sated, as you get off on knowing you’re just going to keep eating, no matter what. there’s no stopping it, because it feels too good knowing that you’ve eaten yourself into a pile of blubber whose only desire is to get even bigger
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