Chapter 62 - the women of their dreams: part 8

139.
A murmur of hushed voices rose from the crowd as Faye continued to eat. Niall couldn't help but smile as, with a glance, he took in the looks of astonishment, disbelief, and even -- in some cases -- fascinated disgust written plainly on the faces of his girlfriend's audience. He doubted any of them had ever seen anybody gorge like this before.

The fiery-haired girl had breezed through her first five pies as though they'd been nothing but a light snack. By the time she'd started on her fifth, her pace might've slowed a little -- her belly might've been starting to look a little rounder, a little more solid and stuffed, but she hadn't seemed to notice. No, she'd just kept on eating, easily shovelling down another pair of her tasty tarts before her pace started to slow further.

The people in the crowd, it seemed, weren't the only ones astonished by the sheer size of Faye's appetite.

"God," said Lettie, her eyes wide as she watched the fiery-haired fatty continue in her unrelenting gluttony, "she sure is one hungry girl..."

"Yeah," the corner of Niall's mouth turned up in a slight, catlike smile, "you can say that again."

"How can she even eat like that without getting sick?"

"Well," Niall gave his girlfriend's tightly packed belly a light pat, causing her to let out a soft, slightly pained moan, "these days, I think she just loves her food too much to really care how stuffed she is. She just wants to eat, and eat, and eat.

Lettie stopped a moment to study Faye. The girl's eyes were shut as she gobbled up one spoonful of pie after another, as though she'd turned off all other senses in order to focus on nothing but her food. The sheer amount that she'd eaten, along with the summer heat, was clearly starting to get to her, but she didn't seem to care. Though her face was hidden from the scorching rays of the sun by her broad-brimmed hat, her cheeks were flushed an angry red. Beads of sweat ran down the many drooping rolls awkwardly squeezed into her light, breezy tent of a dress, but she just kept on eating. Lettie couldn't help but think that she looked like a lazy cow as she sat there, sluggishly chewing her food, her jaw moving at an even pace.

"You sure have got her trained well," she said, throwing Niall an amused and knowing glance.

"I guess," the tall man with the wild, curly hair shrugged, "I might've helped encourage her a bit, but trust me, this girl is a born glutton."

"Yeah," nodded Lettie, "I can tell."

"Anyway," the golden-haired girl said and gestured towards Annie, who seemed to have gotten a little more lucid over the past fifteen minutes, "I'd love to stay and watch, but I think I'd better take my friend here off somewhere a little more comfortable -- not to mention, less public. I hope you and your girlfriend both enjoy her meal."

Niall watched quietly as Lettie led the overstuffed Annie away from the gawking crowd. Side by side, the two girls -- one slender and elegant, the other a hefty, overstuffed ball of rippling fat that oozed out of her slightly too tight clothes -- made for quite a sight. Though not, perhaps, as much of one as his girlfriend.

As he watched Faye eat, her double-chin bobbing up and down as she chewed up her eighth pie, Niall couldn't help but feel a tinge of pride. Lettie had been right, he really had put a lot of work into this vast, blubbery dough-blob of a girl, and now, he was only too happy to show her off.

Her eighth pie having vanished into her bottomless pit of a stomach, Faye didn't even pause before starting on her ninth. She just kept on eating, her stumpy sausage-fingers shovelling a constant stream of food into her already overstretched stomach. However, Niall could tell that she was nearing her limit. Her pace had slowed further, her gorging growing less dignified as she continued to fill her mouth with food. Crumbs were starting to tumble down her chin as she chewed, accompanied by tiny streams of cream custard. To his trained eye, it was clear that Faye was starting to struggle to find room for all this food.

Allowing himself another glance towards the crowd that'd gathered to watch his gluttonous girlfriend, Niall wondered what they must all think as they saw her now. Many of them had probably still remembered her as the impossibly lithe and slender little thing she had been when they'd first met her, nearly two years ago.

Now, though, that girl was gone. Her naturally slight build evident only in the sheer degree to which her fat had hidden it. Faye's excess weight had not, in any way, been kind to her slim frame. Unlike Annie, who'd always had a prominent bust and a wide set of hips, Faye's extra pounds had settled evenly on her figure, robbing it of any hint of shape and turning her into a rippling ball of lard. Her back had been covered in rolls and folds. Her pert, rounded buttocks had grown into loose, square cushions of fat. Her lean, twig-like arms had turned to wide ham hocks, doughy wings that jiggled and swayed as she shovelled more food in her face.

The areas worst hit by her gain, though, were her stomach and thighs. Faye's long, lean dancer's legs had turned to shapeless blobs, wider around now than her waist had once been. Said waist, meanwhile, had been subsumed by an unwieldy slab of fat that rested between her tree trunk thighs as she sat there on her bench, filling it up with pie. The only part of her that'd been left somewhat untouched by her gain was her chest. As her body had swollen up with blubber, Faye's already small boobs had only gotten more modest in comparison to the rest of her. The once perky and firm little things had grown a bit, of course, to the point where they'd lost any hint of their old shape, turning into sagging folds of fat. At this point, they were far from small as they jutted out from the roll of flab that'd enveloped her chest. Next to the huge behemoth of a belly that they rested on, however, they were hardly worth noting.

The old Faye, the agile and sylphlike girl that these people had once been so impressed by, was no more. The girl sitting before them now could hardly walk for more than ten minutes without stopping to catch her breath. These days, a single flight of stairs was all it took to wear her out.

By the time Faye was halfway through her tenth pie, Niall could tell she was about ready to give up. Her belly was packed tight as a drum, protruding straight up into the air before her. She was, quite simply, at her limit; and yet, she kept on eating, ever so slowly. Niall knew that she would have to give in soon, but he couldn't help but wonder how much more she could possibly fit in that belly of hers.

140.
Faye was in heaven. Somewhere, far away, she could feel the heat of the summer sun warming her all too well-padded body. Her skin, she knew, was sticky with sweat, she could hear as her audience snickered and whispered behind her back, but none of that seemed to matter.

Her belly was stuffed so terribly tight. It'd hurt so bad just a little while ago, but her binging sessions with Niall had taught her to ignore the pain and just keep eating. Soon enough, as she'd continued to stuff it with food, her stomach had gone numb, leaving her in a sort of fuzzy, drowsy state where she could just keep eating and eating. She had no idea how many pies she'd gobbled up already, but that didn't matter. She just wanted more and more.

While she was eating, all her doubts and worries seemed to flee from her mind. Just as they had when she'd used to dance back when she'd still been thin. These days, though, dancing only wore her out and made her miserable, while eating brought her to heights of pleasure unlike any she'd ever known before.

Gradually, Faye felt as the overstretched skin of her belly started to ache again. She'd eaten all that she could hold. With a deep, moaning exhale, she put her fork down and pushed away the half-eaten pie in front of her -- her tenth, she would soon learn.

"Oh sweetie," she heard her boyfriend whisper in her ear as he placed a kiss on her cheek, "you really are such a hopeless glutton."

"Well, of course," Faye nodded, smiling sluggishly up at her tall rake of a man, "I'm your hungry, lazy little piggy, remember?"

"Yeah," Niall said, smiling back at her, "I guess you are."

Right then, at that moment, Faye felt as good as she'd ever felt. This, she knew, was all that she wanted out of life. As long as she could have this, as long as she could have Niall and all her fatty foods, that was all that mattered to her. Right now, she didn't care what people thought of her, she didn't care about dancing or anything like that. That wasn't who she was, not anymore.

Suddenly, a stab of acute pain ran through the fourth finger of her left hand. The swollen digit had been hurting for a few days already, but somehow, she hadn't really noticed. Now though, all that pain came flooding into her head all at once, blotting out just about everything else. The fiery-haired girl let out a grunt as she grasped her ring, which sat sunken so deep in her flesh that no matter how she pulled at it, she couldn't get it to budge.