Chapter 3 - issue 0.3: an unlikely hero

She was still doing her awkward little rehearsal when she turned down the alley upon which the pizzeria was situated. But she found herself quieting up as another girl rounded out of the blind corner. A tall girl with an athletic build and the barest hint of an Asian heritage to her face. Her head was adorned by a wave of black hair that was shaved along one side. Her eyes seemed unusually...yellow to Cinnamon. She might've made a bigger deal out of that fact but she was a little distracted. "I swear when did everyone in this city get so skinny" Cinnamon moaned as the girl finally rounded the corner. Poking her growing pot belly with a look of indignation. A look that turned to concern bewilderment as her finger seemed to sink press deeper into the fat that it had the day prior. Faced with something she didn't want to accept Cinnamon went her usual route and turned her attention elsewhere. Hoping snubbing the issue would cause it to fade out of existence.

As she turned to enter the Pizzaria however she paused. Not out of her usual shyness but out of smelling something. She had always had a pretty good sense of taste and smell, it was why she had chosen her profession. So, she had no problem identifying the overflowing aroma of delicious cheese pouring out of the pizzeria. But this wasn't just "Someone left the doors open" levels of smell. It was closer to the sheer force of having pizza dumped directly on your body. Cinnamon paused for a few moments and just inhaled a bit. The sheer density and texture of the dairy product nearly dropping her on her softy padded rear. Its smell was almost magnetic and Cinnamon wound up waddling in after it, her stomachs seemingly insatiable hunger driving her forward.

She found the interior just as permeated by the intoxicating and hunger inducing scent as the exterior. But confusingly it was entirely empty. The counter was deserted, the door to the kitchen was unusually propped completely open. Cinnamon had been raised with too many manners to just barge on into the kitchen because it smelled nice. Or because her stomach felt like it was transforming into a black hole.
She found herself just standing by the counter, awkwardly fidgeting in place.

The cheese loving girl took a moment to steady herself. Repeating a simple mantra to herself. "Pizza is not worth jail time" She informed her stomach with an air of desperation to her voice. The determination in that statement was unfortunately beginning to wane with each passing second. The smell was simply far too delectable to the junk food addicted college student. She could practically feel it in her mouth again, the sweet delicious taste of it. The filling texture it held. Her vision began to be overtaken by her appetite once more. Her sight flooded with imaginary food stuffs. The oral and visual sensations her mind was conjuring combined with the smell made its delicious state far too irresistible.

Her will finally gave away with a palpable snap. It wasn't a complete break from her earlier priorities it was simply a shift perspective. "Nobody would send you to jail for looking at some pizza" She informed her stomach. Normally breaking the rules in such a way might require some manner of psyching up for our heroine. But her hunger was driving her so completely she probably would've killed a person for that pizza. So, a minor misdemeanor was barely a factor. She shuffled around the counter and was once more blasted with an overpowering wave of the foods scent. Proximity seemed to be a multiplicative scale because she felt practically dragged towards the door. Her soft body almost limp and drifting towards the threshold.

She finally pushed it open by throwing herself at the door. So desperate to fill herself that all subterfuge had been done away with. What she found on the other side was not the empty kitchen she had anticipated. Nor the security guard her anxiety had conjured. Instead the room had a lot of pizza in it. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence for a pizzeria. In fact, if anything it should've been a good sign. But the reason it was unnerving was that the pizza wasn't where it was meant to be. Usually Pizza is on plates or ovens. But this particular pie was 6ft tall and shaped like a 3D rectangle. Resting on its side towards the back of the kitchen.

Interestingly enough this in itself did not give the ravenous reporter pause. Her desperation convincing her that it was edible and therefor its other features didn't matter. What gave her pause was the set of human legs that were sticking out from beneath it. Struggling a little as if there was a person being crushed beneath it. A more normal person might've questioned this whole situation and flown into an existential panic about just how strange the encounter they were having was. A more pragmatic girl would've dived into the strange pizza block and helped the stranger out. But Cinnamon was neither very normal nor was she pragmatic. In that moment of time Cinnamon was hungry and like all hungry people, she began to stuff her face.

She slowly started to move towards the food she desired, but that action wound up being unnessecary. About halfway to her dish the food came to her, chunks of the food item detaching in gooey delectable bites. They floated towards an expectant Cinnamon's mouth, the college girl opening her mouth in a trance. The telekinetic stuffing starting up in full swing.

Cinnamon felt a throbbing between her legs at the power of that first bite. It felt like a piece of her soul was returning to her as the delicious combination of flavors washed over in a tide. In that moment of delicious submission, her senses were whisked away from the dingy diner and she was submerged in a lake of delicious pizza pie. In spite of her obvious enjoyment of the first bite the rest of the food crammed its way past without barely a lick. Filling up her stomach a bit just from its sheer size.

Similarly, sized chunks soon followed after, flowing from the giant rectangle pulled as if by a blackhole. A black hole would've been fine metaphor for Cinnamon's stomach. Within seconds she had consumed one regular pizza, last night's stomach straining feat. But she kept going, more kept flowing. The girls stomach starting to bulge out even more notably from the onslaught.

It was sticking out in an almost pregnant fashion from the density of food it was being packed into it. Turning slightly red as it slowly rounded out and grew outward. With how much she was gorging down every slice seemed to push her gut on an inch. Creaking began to emanate from the girl, but unconventionally not from her gut. Her shorts were beginning to protest the incredible load that was beginning to bear into their front. The denim being less than perfect for her stomachs stretching.

It wasn't surprising that her clothing was beginning to fail given the sheer extent of her gorging. She had passed what was normally biologically possible several pounds of pizza ago. Leaving her gut looking like she was smuggling a watermelon, a very tightly packed water melon. But though it was lined with red streaks and was basically a perfect sphere of pizza containment. It still seemed to be finding room to fit even more greasy calories. She was roughly halfway through the pizza creation when her first clothing item gave up in protest.

It was the shorts, as they had been foretelling at earlier points in her gorging. It was difficult to tear denim but a gut as oversaturated as Cinnamon's find its ways. The first tear gave way to a loud rip as the lower half of her orb of a gut broke free of its confines. The gratuitously round thing having finally broken free of its prison. Cinnamon in her blissed-out state was only tangentially aware of what was going on. Very little could pierce the seemingly endless tides of pleasure her brain was experiencing.

She didn't even notice as she slowly sunk to her knees. She was partially aware of the cold feeling of the floor brushing her overladen stomach. But it was like a knock on a distant window, incomparable to the warm and juicy sensation of her stuffing face with delicious pizza. Even brought to her knees her gorging continued unabated. Chunks flew off at rapid rates from the increasingly minimal block of pizza. The massive super natural meal plan tossing the pieces into her waiting maw as she hummed and hawed with the pleasure of sating her urges.

Her gut took the brunt of the cost of her hedonism as it continued to stretch outwards an aggressive red color draping its bloated form. But in a continued defiance of conventional biology the stuffing persisted. Each wide chunk entering the blissful girl's mouth in a drizzle of topping and grease. Her belly continued to widen and round out as she gorged. Increasingly more gravid her stomach began to encroach the sort of size you'd expect from an exercise ball, albeit jutting out a bit further forward.

But as entropy dictates the food could hardly go on forever. No matter how much the girls seemingly bottomless hunger seemed to desire it. Cinnamon felt so much as tasted the gradual decline in the size of the individual pieces. Each delicious filling bite beginning to last less than a second. From an outside perspective she was more or less hovering up the scraps. What had started an impossibly large fridge size chunk of pizza was no little more than a collection of pebble like slices.

The telekinetic force feeding her so expertly seemed to pick up on her thoughts of more filling dish. The dissonant chunks of food forming together. Individual pieces clumping up like some twisted tasty snowball of grease cheese and toppings. Nearly finished with the dish Cinn finally cracked her eyes open. Free briefly from the ocean of pleasure. But what she found facing her made her wish she hadn't. An orb of pizza about the size of her head hovering menacingly