chapter 11- reckoning (p4.1)

The night had flown by. After their dinner, Claire opted to forgo studying in order to share more time with her fiancée before she had to return to her dorm and get some rest before her exam in the morning. They’d stumbled from bar to bar and each gotten far more drunk than either of them intended to. It was spontaneous. Claire was in rare form and so was Paul. It was fun. Throughout their whirlwind of activity over the course of the night there had been an almost electric energy bouncing between them. They’d each certainly wanted sex, but Claire’s impending exam prevented them from committing to a whole night together. They had to settle for some passionate make-out sessions at every other bar they’d attended, but frankly it had still been a pretty damn good night.

It was around midnight, when Paul began to slowly and drunkenly lumber back up the steps of his apartment. His gut felt like it just might burst with how much food and beer he’d consumed, and to make things worse his legs were killing him, and his feet were sore too. Not only had he walked Claire back to her dorm, they’d also danced together at two of the bar’s they’d attended. As much as he loved the girl, keeping up with Claire for the whole night had been exhausting and his new dress shoes certainly didn’t help. He should have broken them in first before wearing them for such an extended period of time. He felt like he was getting a blister on his left heel.

Apart from his physical fatigue, Paul felt far better than he had at the same time the previous night. He’d been tossing and turning, his mind had been plagued by a skull-numbing headache, and constant thoughts of Claire and Emma were driving his positively insane. He much preferred feeling exhausted, bloated, sweaty and gross. All he wanted to do was take a piss, maybe a shower, and go to bed. While he edged closer to the top of the steps, going slow enough to make sure he didn’t lose his breath, he sincerely hoped that Emma was already asleep. He’d mustered a lot of courage tonight and he felt positive he’d exhausted his scant reserves. He didn’t want to face his former feedee. Not right now. While a part of him was confident he’d made the right choice tonight, he couldn’t shake a lagging guilt in the back of his mind that he’d betrayed the devote affection of his feedee.

Turning his key and entering his apartment, Paul’s drunken eyes widened while being greeted to the largest mess he’d ever scene. Hurricane Emma had stuck pretty damn hard. It was certainly quite the parting gift. Everything that wasn’t nailed down was apparently thrown into an improper place. Pillows from the couch lay scattered across the floor, the remote to the TV was smashed on the carpet a few steps from Paul’s feet and even some pots and pans from the kitchen littered the ground outside Emma’s closed door.

While he entered his apartment a little further, that’s when he noticed all the trash.. He counted no less than eleven beer cans littered around the coffee table and the couch. Empty bags of chips lay on the carpet and even in the kitchen area. Two empty pizza boxes lay in the sink on top of what appeared to be two cooking trays, a few messy plates, two pans and a dozen smashed eggshells. On the kitchen table there were three separate ketchup stained plates littered with banana peels and apple carcasses, five large empty Oreo packages, an empty jug of whole-milk, numerous crumbled up butter wrappers, and six empty bags of gummy worms. On the floor under the kitchen table, Paul spotted two small bottles of ketchup completely empty along with bones from what appeared to be a full order of ribs. Breadcrumbs adorned the top of the microwave. An empty egg carton lay on the stovetop. The trash can was filled to capacity with an assortment of empty frozen dinners, and ice cream containers. There was even a pair of scissors stabbed into the wall near the bathroom.

Paul spotted Emma’s sweatpants laying by the fridge, so he stepped closer. Upon opening the fridge, he was amazed to see that its insides were the only objectively clean space in his whole apartment. Emma had eaten everything. Literally everything. The milk carton was sucked dry, the condiments had been drained completely, all of his fruit was gone, the leftovers were gone, the snacks were gone.. She’d consumed everything without care for propriety or consequence. In the back of Paul’s mind, he longed to see the fattened beast which had performed this mammoth feast, but he knew warning signs when he saw them. This wasn’t just the determined stuffing of a feedee. This was something else. Emma must have heard the news about him and Claire.

Looking to his side Paul could clearly see that Emma’s door was closed, that meant she was sleeping. He wouldn’t disturb her. Even though he really wanted to see her, she was probably in no mood to see him. Gathering what strength of will he had remaining, Paul pushed his worries about Emma aside and went to the bathroom to take care of business. While he was peeing, he noted that a few more beer cans and an empty box of donuts littered the tub. Maybe Emma had taken a bath and fed herself some dessert in the process. It was a sound theory considering her tank top was hanging from the showerhead. How much had she eaten? How big had she become? From the size of her mess, she had to be more massively stuffed than Paul had ever managed to get her on his own, and that was saying something. Even the thought of Emma that big stirred some strong unwanted feelings within him below his belt.

It didn’t matter. Once Paul was finished, he grabbed Emma’s trash from the bathroom and tossed it in the overflowing garbage. He could fantasize about Emma when he went to bed, right now he needed to take a shower, he stunk. He’d sweated like a pig tonight in his new suit. Carefully taking it off and hanging it up in the bathroom, Paul entered the shower and treated himself to an indulgently warm experience. It felt good to let the steam envelop him, although he noticed he was having a distinct problem standing still. Either his legs were more exhausted than he’d previously thought, or the alcohol was still hitting him.

Once he was all clean and rinsed off, Paul grabbed a towel and quickly wrapped it around his waist. He probably should have gotten clothes to change into before getting into the shower, but since Emma was asleep it didn’t really matter anyway. Yawning ever so gently, Paul walked down the narrow hallway to his room. The old hardwood floor creaked loudly with every step. It hadn’t done that when he’d been lighter, but he was determined not to think about his own weight problems. It only served to depress him. He was intent on getting to sleep. However, before he grabbed the handle to his bedroom door he froze in an excited, but slightly fearful shock.

Emma’s massive panties were hanging from his doorknob.

Rather than stop and ponder what this could mean, he quickly opened the door to his room and turned the lights on. He was treated to a surprise his eyes were desperately hoping to see.

Atop his bed, a naked whale snored softly. Emma’s irreparably engorged figure lay sprawled out in an ‘X’ shape. Her body was monument to her unabashed gluttony. She was so stuffed her belly descended outward from her body, completely blocking her face from his vision from his current perspective. Was it really possible for her to be as wide around her middle as she was tall?? It certainly looked that way to Paul’s drunken eyes, but then again, he did have a biased perspective.

He marveled silently at her belly. She’d probably immobilized herself from her eating tonight. He wouldn’t be able to make her leave his bed if he tried. So, what should he do? Should he sleep next to her in his own bed? Should he go to her room and sleep in her bed? Should he wake her and learn what the hell she was thinking? She was completely naked, although normally there was some room for doubt in that regard, because her fat typically fully enveloped her panties. However, that wasn’t the case tonight because her panties were on his doorknob and her legs were spread widely apart while she snoozed. What the hell had she been thinking? Paul wanted to know, as he curiously walked over to the side of his bed.

He was many things in this moment. He was confused as to why she was in his room. He was also completely enamored with how gloriously fat and stuffed she’d managed to make herself. Her face, her arms, her chest, her belly, her hips, her butt, her thighs, her calves.. Every part of her was woefully obese. Without thinking, Paul appreciatively placed his hand on her belly. Her normally soft fat felt firm as a rock with how tightly packed she’d been able to load herself up with food. While he played with her stomach, and even gently prodded it to watch it jiggle, Emma’s soft encumbered snores grew more humming and appreciative. Looking at how happy she appeared in her sleep, Paul decided on a course of action. He wanted to get some answers. So, he decided to wake Emma up with a more intense shake of her belly. It only took a moment for Paul to achieve his desired outcome.