Chapter 3 - chat

I awoke slowly the next day with a touch of fogginess in my brain. Due to my eternally shuttered blinds I wasn’t sure what time it was but I hazarded a guess that it was morning. I found myself staring at the ceiling. Just computing what had happened. After a little while I chuckled. That had been a really strange dream. Yet it was somehow the most exciting thing that had happened to me in weeks. I rolled out of bed and almost uttered a curse word as my tablet was flung off my chest. I caught it before it hit the ground. Late night browsing till I dropped was a not uncommon occurrence admittedly. I chalked that up to being a likely source of my "strange dream”. There were some things nagging at my sleep addled brain as I meandered into the kitchen on a quest for breakfast. Even in a state of bed head and with my brain only starting to operate, something felt a little off. I was a tad bloated for a start. My room door was also open and I rarely left it open all through the night.

I run a hand through my bed head and grumbled as I got to the kitchen. I needed quick calories and coffee. I approached the cupboards to rummage around, my original idea was toaster waffles. But the more awake I got the more that feeling of bloat was hanging heavily in my mind. It wasn’t anything noticeable, but there were the beginnings of some softness all over. I really didn't work out enough to warrant such easy-going carb heavy meals. I mentally settled on the salad in my mind and got to work on the coffee. I got everything all setup. There was some sound of buzzing from my tablet. Probably an email I was sure. I poured everything into the pot of coffee and waited on it. Idlily doing assorted other kitchen tasks while I waited. Everything a tad bleary. I am needless to say, not much of a morning person. Which admittedly probably had more to do with late nights, than any hatred of the sun rising.

With the coffee finished I took a seat at the kitchen table, plate stacked high with some fine waffles, adorned with a sizzling dollop of butter. I paused and stared at the starchy stack of sin. I paid a glance to the kitchen and sure enough the empty box was up there. I could even just about remember making them with a bit of straining. With one hand I wordlessly shoved one into my mouth. With the other I tapped my tablet. The screen flashed and revealing the truth I had wanted so desperately to ignore. At the top a poll result that had been settled on remained “Heavy Breakfast” it said mocking me. “Looks like sleeping beauty is finally up” “Good Morning” “Do you think she already looks bigger today?” the chat it seemed, was already active. It seemed I was also already live. I hadn’t even changed out of yesterday's clothes so I managed to look like a bit more of slob than the day prior. On camera and at the angle shown the products of yesterday's turbo stuffing were already borderline visible. It wasn’t much, you wouldn’t have noticed unless you had spent a few hours staring at me the day prior. It was just a touch of softness in the nook and crannies but it was there. Whatever this weird website was, it was already harming my figure.

“Son of a bitch, it’s seriously real” I muttered through a mouthful of waffle as I shoveled the next bite in unconsciously. “She’s only just now figuring that out” “She’s definitely a noobie alright” “When I said dull, I meant like bland, it seems the other way applies as well”. The chatter responded as I mentally latched onto to that familiar insulting voice. Their username was Black Neko it stuck out in the sea of sprawling insulting text lines. While my outburst got the attention of some, other chatters were busy having some very in-depth discussions about my figure. There seemed to be a few camps. Some said it wasn’t visible yet. Others swore it had gotten to straight to my chest. One single person was quite insistent my thighs were already at least an inch thicker. I resisted to urge to squeeze them and check. I was sure that’d just encourage them. Still it made me all the more aware of the empty calories they had voted me into stuffing myself with. These people seemed interested in fattening me up. How big would they make me. Would they ever let me have a decent meal again. It didn't help matters at all that for whatever reason the food I was eating was absolutely delicious. If I had known they would’ve tasted that good I probably would’ve made them with the poll. Even if I didn't like admitting it.

“Okay, I don’t suppose any of you perverts would like to be helpful or are you just going to laugh at me again?” I voiced feeling rather awkward. The kitchen was silent other than the sounds of my own chewing and the buzzing of the tablet. I got a lot of comments. Only a pretty small amount of them were offended at being called pervs. There was some laughing. Most were just calling me feisty which only riled me up further. I just wanted basic tech support so I could get them out of my hair. Yet the ones that frustrated me most of all were the ones who just continued to argue you about my figure. One comment stuck out to me in particular though. “I’d be willing to help if you make It entertaining, I saw a bottle of chocolate syrup in that shelf, slather it on your meal and I’ll consider helping you out” Its length got me but also the username. Black Neko again. “God you guys are weird, how did you even spot that” I muttered, but I couldn’t help but consider the offer. Somehow doing it by choice was worse than being forced, and I didn't need the extra calories. But it was difficult to decline when the entire chat dissolved into people spamming SYRUP! In all capitals.

“Okay but just so we’re clear, I’m not doing this because I want to” I informed them as I bent over to pluck up the old bottle of syrup. Returning to the table I made a show of slathering it over my already caloric breakfast. I felt like I was pouring away my dress sizes, but the smell alone was beginning to drive me a tad wild. The next bite was absolutely heavenly. The thick but cheap syrup and starch merged together granting a luxuriant and overwhelmingly rich quality to food. For a few bites I even forgot about the tablet or the audience. It was so damn good it almost gave me goosebumps. As I was eating though I soon remembered the audience responsible for my impromptu dietary derailment. They were probably getting off to the sight of the gooey chocolate staining my face. Zoomed in on the best angle to view my stomach expand with every hedonistic meal. “Wow she actually did it” “SYRUP confirmed” “Somebody should calculate the extra calories” “I bet it’ll go straight to her thighs”. Those were the tamer comments mixed in with the ones aggressively celebrating my stuffing. “Seriously calm down it’s just some chocolate” I tried to downplay it, doing my best not to blush, but clearly failing on the screen.

“Guess you’re not so dull after all, you can’t use most of the sites features because you’re a live girl, but there’s forums you can access by adding /forums to the end of the web domain” Black Neko informed me. They had to post it a few times because it got drowned out by horny comments about my food. With how gooey my meal was It was rather difficult to both stuff myself and use a touch screen. I just couldn’t stop myself from eating. Ceasing from filling myself would’ve been like trying to walk up a vertical surface. It didn't help that I had probably overdone it on the syrup. In spite of my complaining I had emptied practically the entire thing onto my overtop the breakfast. In the end I had to lick my fingers clean before actually typing in the web address. Needless to say, that got a reaction out of the crowd. I opened a new tab. With the /forum addition I found myself on a pretty rudimentary website with white formatting on a black background.

Along the side bar however was where things got truly strange. The side bar advertised items which could be bought for exchanging points. Appetite enhancers, weight swappers, bras that altered the size of the wearers bust. Even custom shirts which could be “gifted” to live girls. I couldn’t be certain but something about the way “gifted” was phrased made me feel like they wouldn’t be using the local mail service. The rest of the forum itself was somehow even stranger. There were various conversations and tabs. Some were tame, with people simply discussing their favorite girls, all using said girls usernames. Those seemed normal on the surface but once you got to the content it always devolved into one thing and one thing alone. Fat. Who was biggest, who could eat the most, how that changed with different gifts or poll results. There were some more normal discussions about production values, the discussions about personality just about outnumbers the topics about any given girls measurements. But all I found myself focusing on was the sheer emphasis on girth, and the rate at which girls were getting bigger.

I idlily swapped backed to the tab holding my feed. “She’ll have a big gut in a few months I think” “Probably weeks I guess” “Seriously booty is best” “Booty is overrated in my opinion; we need more big titty girls on here” the comments read. Those were just a few choice ones. The chat was flooded with much less nuanced discussions about my figure. Some simply spamming “bigger”. These people were going to fatten me up. I took a glance at the girl on the live feed. At the empty chocolate stained plate next to her. At the bulge of her full middle pushing against the waistline of her sweat pants. When I looked at her it became abundantly clear I had already started down the path. All that was left for them to do was spam me with fattening meal till I truly was “Bigger”.