This is a followup to this forum post: fantasyfeeder.com/forum/posts
I head out of my favourite fried chicken place, a large bucket of wings under my arm. I'm 21 years old, 5' 10'', and around 500 pounds.
A white vest is stretched tight over my massive belly and moobs, my deep belly button in full view as my gut hangs over my shorts. My feet are bare, since even sandals are uncomfortable to wear for me. My snack in hand, I start to leisurely waddle for home, eating as I go. I could use my car, but I enjoy feeling my fat jiggle as I walk.
As I waddle along, I pass a 400-pound woman and her daughter, who looks to be about ten, eating ice cream together. As I pass them, I hear the girl tell her mom that she can't see her feet anymore.
A few blocks later, I come across the local high school. Two girls of about fifteen are relaxing outside, both practically spilling out of their uniforms already. One of the girls mentions that she hasn't seen someone called Jen in a while. The other girl replies that she's probably stuck in her home, like so many others, being tended to by robotic servants.
Soon after, I arrive in my neighbourhood, the bucket now almost empty. All around is the sight and sound of obese people of all ages eating incessantly, only occasionally taking time off to breathe with labour. I come to my house and head inside, and think once more of how lucky I am to live in a world like this.
I head out of my favourite fried chicken place, a large bucket of wings under my arm. I'm 21 years old, 5' 10'', and around 500 pounds.
A white vest is stretched tight over my massive belly and moobs, my deep belly button in full view as my gut hangs over my shorts. My feet are bare, since even sandals are uncomfortable to wear for me. My snack in hand, I start to leisurely waddle for home, eating as I go. I could use my car, but I enjoy feeling my fat jiggle as I walk.
As I waddle along, I pass a 400-pound woman and her daughter, who looks to be about ten, eating ice cream together. As I pass them, I hear the girl tell her mom that she can't see her feet anymore.
A few blocks later, I come across the local high school. Two girls of about fifteen are relaxing outside, both practically spilling out of their uniforms already. One of the girls mentions that she hasn't seen someone called Jen in a while. The other girl replies that she's probably stuck in her home, like so many others, being tended to by robotic servants.
Soon after, I arrive in my neighbourhood, the bucket now almost empty. All around is the sight and sound of obese people of all ages eating incessantly, only occasionally taking time off to breathe with labour. I come to my house and head inside, and think once more of how lucky I am to live in a world like this.
8 years