A pig's tail

chapter 2

As I wake up I feel the sticky marshmallow clinging to my warm body. I open my eyes to see that the bed has broken, probably mostly due to me eating over a quarter of it in my sleep. Most of the quilt and both of my pillows are gone. Sitting next to the bed I decide it's time for breakfast and begin shoveling marshmallow, graham cracker and cotton candy into my mouth. The cotton candy doesn't last long but the bed may take a while. I feel my thighs, calves and ass sprawl out on the floor as I gorge myself.
After what feels like half an hour or so there's only a quarter of the bed left. I'm still not full but my pace has slowed from fatigue. Laying into what's left of the bed I lazily gobble it down till there's just a pillow sized portion left. I stand up, stretch and shake around my beautiful body to feel the movement of my rolls and curves. I think I'll go see if there's anything near the building of interest, I can take this last chunk of bed with me so I don't waste any time.
With a glob of marshmallow attached to graham cracker in my hand I descend the stairs. Although I'm not quite as graceful as I was, I feel powerful from the girth of my body and the creaking of the stairs under my footfall. I head towards the kitchen and out the back door, eating the whole time of course. As I step outside I turn my head to see a cellar door just a few steps away. There's no lock on it so I just grab the handle with my free hand, it's cold to the touch. Behind the door is a small room that's nearly full to the brim with different flavors of ice cream. I toss the wad of marshmallow down the cellar and dive in after it. Somehow the ice cream isn't too cold for me and it doesn't seem to be melting from my body heat. Overjoyed, I wallow around plowing through and slurping up as much ice cream as I can; not caring to look at what flavor I'm about to eat before I do. I'm lost in the silky coolness, experiencing so many different and delectable flavors I don't have the attention span to think of them all at this moment. Before long I'm sitting in a sticky, empty cellar eating the marshmallow I forgot about till it's gone.
I leave the cellar and my lavish hips almost graze the doorway as I walk back into the kitchen. Covered in sticky sweetness, I decide I should see if the bath tub upstairs actually has water. The stairs creak louder than before as I waltz up them. The bath tub is decent sized so I should fit in it comfortably and it seems to be made out of paper thin, crystalline hard candy. I'm a bit skeptical with how fragile it appears to be but I lower my fat ass into it nonetheless. Surprisingly it doesn't make a sound or move in the slightest and there's just barely enough room for me. I turn one of the faucets four handles and what appears to be honey slowly drips out. I turn it off and try another, this time warm water starts pouring out. Leaning under the faucet, I jiggle and indulge in my curves while the sugar washes off.
Now clean, I sit in the warm tub and put my mouth around the faucet as I try a different handle. Some sort of butterscotch syrup pours out and just like I did with the sink, I lay back and let it flow in. My beautiful bulk quickly fills the tub. I shimmy a bit while still drinking and the undulations of my magnificent figure fracture the tub. I crash a few inches to the floor, surrounded by little shards of hard candy with the syrup pouring on me. I switch back to the water to wash off again before getting up.
As I stand around the bathroom I've thoroughly demolished, I look down and see something that doesn't look like it's made of candy or desserts: a scale. I stand on the scale in excitement, the dials whir but I can't really see them over my gut. I brace my hand on the sink and try to maneuver myself so that I can see the number. After a few awkward positions I can see that it's says four hundred and sixteen pounds! I hop off the scale and the floor groans and shakes while I jump up and down in joy.
In excitement I run down the protesting stairs and heave my massive butt onto one of the gumdrop couches. The couch caves in without putting up a fight so I sit on the demolished furniture, snacking greedily on its' cushions. I lean back and look at the ceiling, it looks like it's made of peanut brittle. How do I get up there? Maybe I can squeeze through the upstairs window? Without any better ideas, I dance up to the bedroom.
Just by looking at it I know I can't fit but I can probably reach out far enough to peel off some pieces of roof. So I open the window and reach for some peanut brittle, my gorgeous bum plugs up the window seal as I stretch out for more food. I tear off some shingles and start feasting, all the while my hips and ass overflow the window seal while I grow. My belly sways and rubs against the wall as it dangles from the window. Mmm... that feels so good, I want to feel it move more. I shake my fat around and "Crack!" the window splinters a little from my tumultuous tremors of blubber. I guess I'll just eat as much as I can till it's easier to bust out of here then. I continue munching on the roof and shimmying every now and then to splinter the window further and give me just a little more room to grow. Even still, the window is beyond tight around me, one of us has to give here soon. There are no more shingles within reach of my pudgy grasp and I'm still stuck so I shake my luxurious body with all of my might. My ass smacks loudly off the wall above the window as I gyrate. The sounds of creaking and cracking follow the waves of fat moving around and before long the wall crumbles. I however did not consider what direction I would fall and even if I hadn't eaten a large hole in the ceiling it probably couldn't bare my weight. So I go crashing through the roof, landing on my voluptuous rear.