Another cup of jasmine tea

chapter 10

A month later, I was double the size I had been when I arrived in the capital. The amount of food I consumed every day was ridiculous, but to me it was normal. Carol’s insistence on stuffing me to my absolute limits every day had stretched the capacity of my stomach. Standard portions simply did not satisfy me any more.
I wasn’t interested in anything other than eating... oh an sex. Carol saw that was high on my list. The more I ate, the more I got turned on and Carol was always around at the right time to satisfy my needs.
Sometimes, when I was alone, I would wonder what I was doing to myself. It didn’t make any sense. I was so fat that it was interfering with what I could do. I used to be able to walk all the way to Kensington in an hour. Now, I would not be able to walk that far. Now, I struggled to walk from the cafe to the car without getting breathless. Walking from the car to the shop and from the car to the house and back was the only exercise I was getting. What was I doing? It didn’t make any sense. Then someone would bring me a fruit scone spread with a thick layer of butter, strawberry jam and clotted cream and another cup of tea and I would be tucking in to it, my doubts forgotten.
Overeating was giving me this heady euphoric feeling that was very addictive. My appetite was bigger and I needed to eat more to satisfy it then get the hit of euphoria.
Any pretence of me eating standard portions in the cafe and pacing myself were gone. My big gut wanted to be completely filled from when I woke until when I went to bed. I’m sure I put potential customers off with my gluttony, but I did not care about them. I did not care what the other staff thought. I wanted to please Carol and she wanted me to be big and fat and eating was the only way to do that. My cafe table was never completely empty now. The staff must have been told that because they were very attentive to me. I didn’t even have to order my food any more either, it just arrived!
One of those IRA bombs could go off beside me, but it would not stop me eating.
As my weight soared, I found that my body got in the way more often. I developed a swaying waddle because nor only did my thighs rub together all the way down to my knees, but my giant belly drooped down to my thighs, making taking steps forward difficult. I had rolls of fat on my sides that could be grabbed by the handful and drooping breasts that rested on my big belly. When I sat down I had to sit with my legs apart and my bum would often overflow the chair. Going through a standard sized doorway, I was better going sideways on and clinging to the doorframe.
My weight gain had slowed down, but it was still climbing. I reached thirty stones and I was still getting heavier. Carol said that my larger energy needed more calories to maintain homeostasis. I reached the stage were I could not possibly eat any more. There was not enough time in the day. I was still getting bigger, but I sensed Carol was unhappy with me. I couldn’t do much, but everything I could do was not enough to quell her unhappiness.