Fatiosa

chapter 8

“Congratulations, my dear” said Immortan Joe. “Your punishment has come to an end. You are forgiven.”
Was he really that delusional? Capable thought.
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t have to worry about feeding Fatiosa any longer. She has been permanently moved to the milking station.”
There went her excuse to eat tons of food.
“But I am going to have to ask that you do one particular task for me every day. It won’t take nearly as long as Fatiosa’s usual feedings, but I am going to need you to continue to deliver her food. Although, she won’t need direct delivery.”
“I’m confused.”
“Fatiosa’s feeding situation has … changed quite significantly. To accommodate this change, the contents of her feedings had to be altered. You’ll see for yourself tomorrow morning when you make your first delivery. You’ll pick it up from the chef in the kitchen. They will tell you where to take it. All you have to do is unload what the chef gives you into a large tank. The machine that it is attached to will handle the rest. The machine will feed her. After that, you are free to enjoy your day.”
“Okay. If that is what you want.”
“I’d prefer my wife not have to do anything, but thanks to that road warrior, we are low on men. Unfortunately that’s how the wasteland works, even in the Citadel: everyone’s got to pull their weight.”
Capable nodded in agreement before Joe left the room. He would return later that night to unleash his usual form of punishment upon her. She powered through it. She kept her eyes ahead of her. On the future. Like Max and Furiosa, she was a survivor. The next day, Capable would tend to her new duties as soon as she woke up. Upon her arrival to the kitchen, Joe’s chef showed her a large barrel. This was what Capable was supposed to wheel to a nearby room that was apparently newly installed. She did as she was told to do, but not without steeling some food from the kitchen while the chef wasn’t looking. The path to this room was pretty vacant, meaning she was free to snack on said food on the way to her destination. She got to the room in a matter of minutes and eyes the tank she was supposed to load the contents into. It was large and metal with multiple thick tubes underneath it that lead into the wall. She opened the barrel’s lid expecting to find food which she was intending on snacking on, however she was met with … well, she wasn’t sure. It was a thick green, white, and brown liquid that was bubbling. It didn’t look too pleasant and it smelled odd.
“What the hell is he feeding her?”
Capable really didn’t like what she was seeing, and her instincts told her not to even think about touching the stuff. But two weeks’ worth of developing a rather gluttonous eating habit overpowered her instincts. She dug two fingers into the goo-like substance and quickly shoved it into her mouth. Her eyes opened wide as the taste of the goo spread through her mouth. She didn’t know how to describe it. It was sweet and salty at the same time. It was chewy and crunchy. It was like a combination of every kind of food she could think of. She loved it. She scooped a large amount of it into her hands and drank from them like a shallow cup. She couldn’t even remember the horrible night she had; the horrible nights she had been having. This was why she ate. She ate to forget. She ate to find peace. She ate to survive.
She stopped after about nine more handfuls of the goo. She knew she couldn’t eat it all, as much as she wanted to. And to be fair, her stomach was fairly full from the goo combined with her earlier snack. Then she remembered that she hadn’t had breakfast yet.
After emptying the remains of the barrel’s contents into the tank, Capable made her way to the Citadel Café. It was full of War Boys, all sitting in various groups at different benches. She grabbed a tray and walked up to the counter where all of the available food was held. Luckily there was only one person in line in front of her so she was able to get her food quickly. The woman behind the counter placed a small amount of food on Capable’s tray. This was the wasteland after all. Food was scarce, and sometimes it was easy to forget that despite how much the Citadel was able to get, it was not an infinite supply. Every day for breakfast, lunch and dinner, everyone in the Citadel was allocated a very exact amount of food. It didn’t matter who you were. You got the same rations as everyone else. The only exceptions being the milking station workers and Immortan Joe himself. Capable was disappointed with the small portion size she received, but food was food. She sat down at a bench far off in the corner and dug in. Within two minutes, she had absolutely devoured her meal and was on her way back to her room. She would be sure to snag something from the kitchen on her way back, of course. And she would make sure to snag even more when she came back to the Café later for lunch, and once more for dinner. So she wasn’t feeding Fatiosa anymore. So what? She would still find ways to indulge in her increasing appetite. She would still survive.
That entire week consisted of Capable repeating that same pattern over and over and over again every day. The same could be said for the following week. And the week after that. This whole time, she had not been anywhere near, or even thought about Fatiosa, yet her gluttony had shown itself on its own. She, herself, was becoming a glutton. Yes, after three more weeks of developing her own brand of gluttony, Capable had become definitively chubby. She stood alone in her room, inspecting herself. Her clothes were becoming increasingly tight. Although, she wore robes so all she had to do was loosen them. Her top robe was stretched very tightly across her enlarged breasts. She had developed a slight double chin that was well on its way to becoming permanently visible. Her arms were thick and puffy. She wore her lower robes higher up near her belly button to prevent them from falling off as her stomach had gotten fat enough to roll over. It was a truly glorious gut to be sure, though and despite its lower portion being hidden, it was easy to see the amount of flab forming around her torso through her exposed midriff. Her hips and ass flared out a few inches more than normal. Her thighs recently started to touch and her legs overall were just large and marshmallow-like. She pinched an inch of fat from her stomach. She didn’t particularly care about her appearance. She didn’t mind the weight gain, although she definitely preferred it didn’t happen. But she cared too much about her addiction to eating for the weight gain to truly bother her. Just then, Immortan Joe walked into the room.
“Immortan Joe” Capable said. “I wasn’t expecting you to come here. Is something wrong?”
“I hate to ask you this, but I’m going to need you to start making two deliveries for Fatiosa per day instead of one.”
“What? Why is that?”
“That tub of lard seems to be going through more and more food every day. Her appetite has increased so much that one barrel just doesn’t seem to be enough anymore.”
“Oh, well I suppose I could do that. It doesn’t sound like a problem.”
Joe took a good look at his unwilling wife. He was not oblivious to her weight gain either, although he had much stronger feelings about it than she did. “No, I’m sure it doesn’t.”
Fifteen minutes later, Capable was in the room with the tank as she wheeled in a second barrel and lifted the top off.
“Maybe Fatiosa is going through more food these days.”
She grabbed the edges of the barrel tightly and brought her face close to the surface of the goo.
“Or maybe it’s just me.”
She plunged her face right into the unknown substance and ate to her hearts content. She ate until she was full and beyond, pouring the remnants of her feast into the tank when she was done. She knew now why she really ate. Yes, she ate to forget. She ate to find peace. And she ate to survive. More importantly, she ate because she loved it.