Chapter 5 - issue 0.5: an unlikely hero

So far, the only common denominator in all these occurrences was her. To ascribe the source of them to anything else would be bad journalism. No, she was definitely the cause. Since the situation was fundamentally impossible the door for what was causing them was open to literally anything. Ghosts demons or becoming one with the matrix. But none of those things would explain why her own emotions seemed to always line up with her psychokinetic binges. Nor why she had been so thoroughly interested in stuffing her face both times she had done so. In fact, the experience of actually eating had been transcendental. Meaning that she could probably axe out external sources for the strangeness. It had to be coming from within her.

"If I perform enough extreme jumps in logic then this is something I can do. I don't even have to go over there, I just have to bring the party to me" Cinnamon talked out. She wondered briefly just how insane she probably sounded to the person she was trying to save. But shook it off. It was time for one last meal. At the start of the day eating someone out of being buried alive by cheese would have been a laughable hypothetical. But in that moment, it was her reality. Her only way to save her damsel in distress.

She started simply staring at the pile of cheese intently. At some point in time everyone has tried to move something with their minds. Reached out towards an object and tried to will it to come closer. Cinnamon employed much the same strategy staring at the food and attempting to focus. But despite her best efforts it was not something she found herself to able to do. There was just too much dividing her attention. The massive churning gut that was so jam packed with food it was pinning her to the floor, her recent blow up into a chubby girl, even the prior nights bit of awkwardness with the pizza boy.

Her mind with a chaotic mess in the intensely stressful situation. That is to say nothing of the intense sensory overload she was experiencing. There was the churning sound of her gurgling gullet and the sensations being impossibly full and bloated brought with them. The low humming of the many kitchen appliances and the smell of the oozing cheese prison only added to the mental disarray of the struggling college student. Yet in all that chaos she found her attention drifting. One of her senses picking up on something far more interesting than the others. The smell of the goopy cheese seemed to pull at her in a way the others didn't, filling her mind with perfect images of the delicious substance.

She felt the other things in the room start to drift away on the delicious ride the smell brought her on. The enormity and discomfort of her pinning gut. The idle sounds of a modern kitchen. It slowly started to dampen as Cinnamon's brain began to process the smell and layers of the pleasuring scent. The way it pulled her away from everything was intoxicating. Yet she snapped back to reality with a shake of her head. She knew exactly where that particular path of gorging would take her.

"I can't I mean...I'm so full to begin with" Cinnamon mused allowed. Rubbing the overfilled sides of her belly with trepidation. She had already eaten her belly the size of a blimp and filled it with more food than anyone could've thought possible. Glutted herself to such a bloated size she was pinned down by her overindulgence. To say nothing of what the calories would do to her frame whenever she actually finished digesting all the fattening food. She found herself struggling to want to push those limits even further, to want to consume even more. The thoughts of just how big her dome of a belly would get if she pushed it even further sent goosebumps through her plump frame. She already felt so full to begin with even with what felt like an impossibly large capacity.

Yet across the room Cinnamon couldn't help but notice the struggle continuing. The unknown stranger fighting against the clingy cheesy embrace of their dairy prison. Their anxiety ridden kicks were declining in force at a worrying rate. The sight of the strangers dwindling energy seemed to ground Cinn in the reality of her situation. Sure, she was completely bloated with cheese. But while her gut may have looked like a blimp the condition wasn't exactly life threatening. Uncomfortable and highly embarrassing to be sure. But the biggest danger her completely full state posed was to her wardrobe.

Cinnamon may have been making light of her situation in that moment. She was so overfilled with cheese she was literally pinned to the tile floor by her hedonism. Her beach ball of a belly was so round and full it would probably have broken any conventional record. Yet in making light of her impossible situation Cinnamon found what she needed. A steel of willpower and acceptance of a couple more calories to save the mysterious strangers life.

So she began to take a few deep breaths to find her inner center. Figuring it's what always happened in the movies. The first few breaths were a little strained, taxed by the weight of her belly and her stress. Yet as they continued and her focus tightened she could feel it fading away. The stress of her situation, the potential danger her damsel in the distress was going through. Inhaling and exhaling, Cinnamon had found a rhythm. Soon she found her peace invaded however. This time by an all too familiar smell punctuating her quiet peace.

Delicious and textured it was the very cheese that she had consumed in her bloating. The remnants of the very dish that her gut was hard at work turning into fat. Yet unlike before Cinnamon didn't suddenly feel like she hadn't eaten for weeks. The fact her gut was so full she was lying on top of it saw to that. She was well aware with the inciting smell swirling through her brain that she was completely full. Eating further would be unnecessary at least for her own needs. To will more of the food into her gullet would be an act of certifiably gluttony. Yet with someone's life on the line and food that tasted that good Cinnamon didn't care. So, the cute girl opened her mouth wide and let her subconscious will do the work.

The cheese prison began to dissolve instantaneously ,a flowing tide of the condiment pulling from the central blob and lashing towards Cinnamon's open mouth. The heroine willing to fill her mouth and wash her taste buds with the same delicious taste that had filled her up earlier. As it made contact a curious thing about her new circumstances became clear. Even without being compelled by hunger the dish was still borderline orgasmic in taste. It was a flavor so powerful and pure she could barely think straight. She felt it filling her belly and after a moment she could almost swear her perspective was rising an inch or two from bloat.

The sensation didn't whisk her away to dreamland like it had before, nor did it leave her numb to how much her gullet was filling. She felt every delicious portion of the scrumptious dish that was pressing into the already full confines of her dome like gut. It was a fascinating game of chicken. As she felt her gut become fuller and fuller it grew more uncomfortable. It was at a slower rate than any reasonable person's stomach would mind you. Yet in the moment the sheer taste of it all coupled with the high of her altruism was enough to override it. So, it became a timer of sorts, a wait for the limbo to finally break.

Cinnamon lost track of time, but she could tell minutes were passing with her constant stuffing. Her stomach had swollen to the degree it had pushed her legs to stretch as she struggled to keep them on the ground. It was a titanic and sensitive water bed of fat grease and calories. It churned in a fashion that almost drowned out any other sound. Its bright red color seemed a warning of sorts. She could tell with near certainty that even her super human capacity had a limit. Most worryingly of all was the fact she seemed to be reaching it.

But in spite of the discomfort of her predicament, she could see the progress in her work. Slowly as she inhaled the slurry of dairy and grease the stranger was being revealed. With every inch her stomach was stretched to accommodate its taxing load, they got closer to being saved. So even as her super human gullet began to dully ache from pressure, she persisted. Willing more and more into her plump body and feeling her gut swell. Slowly she noticed more and more of an outfit being made visible. An orange shirt, the right corner of a pizza logo, skinny yet toned arms. A worker, and there was something dreadfully familiar about their shape.

But whatever that thought was she couldn't completely process it. Cinnamon was in pain. Her gut was bloated out to a scale she couldn't quite comprehend. It was as big as the fridge sized delicacy she had gorged on. Albeit perfectly round and visibly distressed with the sheer scale of the calories it was containing. The pleasure of the entrancing taste had long been buried by the stinging fullness of oversaturation. She felt the pain ramp up and her consciousness being to struggle. She was seeing black spots dancing in her vision. The idea of passing out was beginning to become the finest of ideas.

Yet she persisted. Momma may have raised a nervous, plain looking, nerd, but she didn't raise a quitter. Slowly the last of the cheese joined its predecessor in the titanic cauldron Cinnamon called her belly. The churning overfull mass now audible to the victim who's identify had become revealed by the finished meal. But before she could be thanked or even interacted with whatever restraint that had been holding her back gave away, and she slipped off into unconsciousness. Partially due to sheer embarrassment.

So Cinnamon saved a guy in a pizza parlor, using strange powers she couldn't control. And an apatite that seemed to controlling her.