chapter 3

That night, Carter had a strange dream. He dreamed he was in his car, driving somewhere, but when he tried to get out, he couldn't. He was stuck. He had eaten so much chocolate , crackers, and sugary snacks while he was driving that he ballooned too big to get out of the car. His shirt was stretched so far that it had holes in it, and through the holes he could see the baby-soft hairless skin that was newly stretched our around him. He was completely rounded out. In fact his chest was so large that it was almost suffocating him. Underneath his massive belly he could feel his penis throbbing, but he was scared, he was scared that he'd never make it out of that car. But at the same time, he was thrilled with his new growth.

Suddenly, he was in his own bed, at his mom's house, surrounded by candy wrappers. He was just as huge as before, and again, incredibly aroused. But he still couldn't move. Something wasn't letting him. Entering the room, he saw Sydney, stark naked, moving in with something behind her back. He blinked his eyes and suddenly she was riding him, and stuffing donuts into his mouth. He wasn't able to resist this feeding, or thrust his hips or anything. Her tiny body rocked back and forth, making his huge, round, stretched out squishy belly wobble back and forth. This is where Carter woke up experiencing one of the most incredible orgasms that ever had.

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Carter woke up that morning feeling extremely ashamed and confused. He didn't know what to make of it. The phones were up again and Sydney's dad came by to get her and plow the driveway. Carter restricted his diet that entire day, barely got any writing done, and felt very bad about himself.

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For the following two weeks, however, Carter indulged himself like never before. He figured the best time to stuff himself and not care would be now, with no one watching him or judging him or telling him to stop. He would have to deal with the consequences later. He even vowed to start using the LeBlanc's tredmill.

Each day he would wake up starving, plod to the kitchen, and make some coffee. To this he would add ample cream and sugar, just the way he liked it. Sometimes he would even add chocolate syrup. Then he would cook himself a three-course breakfast. For example, one day he baked a couple of cinnamon rolls. While these were cooking he made himself a large breakfast burrito, filled with gravy, eggs, sausage, and cheese. Next, he'd have himself some fruit and yogurt, to balance out the meal a bit. Then he'd have the cinnamon rolls, which were covered in icing and cinnamon. After this kind of breakfast, he was thoroughly stuffed and so he lounged around reading or watching TV for an hour afterward. After that, he began writing.

Writing was tricky, because he needed the right amount of snacks to make him focus on writing, but also he couldn't overindulge on the snacks or else he'd get distracted. He skipped lunch, knowing that his snacks, such as chips, pizza rolls, brownies, cereal, or whole milk would hold him over until his dinner.

Carter was tired of pizza for dinner, and instead would actually cook a meal of his own. His favorites were pasta, chicken-fried steak, stir-fry, and burritos. No matter how he tried to restrain himself, he always ended up stuffing his belly so far that all he could manage to do is sit in front of the TV and rub his stretched out belly until he either fell asleep or managed to get enough energy to waddle to the kitchen and grab some desert to stuff himself with.

He felt guilty, but he also felt this was the only way to live his life at the moment. As much as he hated his outward appearance, the taste of food and the feeling of a swollen gut were some of the only things he could look forward to. He even had a few more dreams about being two, or three times his current size. Each time he woke up more aroused than ever. It was as if being in the mountains alone opened up a new identity for him. When Carter was isolated from the world, he could almost accept his weight and penchant for a full belly.