chapter 6

At some point you wake up with sharp pain in the back and your mouth standing widely open. Nothing has changed in your position, crusts of dried food cover your body, your thighs feel damp. You somehow manage to push your butt towards the back of the chair in order to relieve your back. Your gut still feels full, but the pain is gone for now. As soon as you are halfway awake, someone runs a washcloth over your mask and your mouth, your mouth is forced open and the heavy painful clip is hung on your tongue and side clips are clamped in the corners of your mouth. Then your bacon rolls, bulging arms, fleshy fingers and wet thighs are cleaned long and carefully. You let your tongue hang out helplessly and feel mountains of drool flowing into the folds of your chin and onto your boobs. When you are clean, the smell of burgers wafts towards you, they free you from the tongue clip, loosen your backrest chain and ankle cuffs. Hands pull you to your feet, you sway slightly, they give you time to adjust to your new body weight. When you are able to take a few steps, they guide you to your next feeding place. They put a tight harness around your shoulders, legs and stomach, which firmly frames and protrudes your breasts and jelly belly, and hang you in chains that put you in a crouching frog position. With straps and smaller chains, they ensure that you can no longer straighten your bent legs, your apron hangs between your legs and flows onto the stone floor. Hands hug you from behind and examine your fattening progress with pinches and shakes. Their movements make you aware of the size and fullness of your body, you are like a fat sumo wrestler, a mountain of fat without muscles or a chance to defend yourself. The hands cradle your breasts that have mutated into fat drooping udders, reach into your wide love handles and finally a hand lies under your pussy and confirms that you are already self-betraying dripping wet again and highly aroused. With the palm of their hand still wet, your cheek is patted and pinched into. Then other hands finally let go of your arms and confront your freed hands with a tray full of burgers. They put one in your hands and push it towards your mouth. In order to save yourself unnecessary agony, you try to meet their expectations quickly and satisfactorily.

One by one, the burgers disappear into your throat and lie warm in your fattening stomach. After the first tray is done, they push a large bottle of soda into your hands and you empty it in a few gulps. Your fat is patted appreciatively and you burp heartily. The second tray is already challenging, but you can manage to bite through without needing motivation by the drover. The next soda is cooling and noticeably fills the few remaining spaces in your belly. You hope for an end soon, after all, your belly was still full at the start. The test of your fullness takes a longer time, you try to digest, hope for massages. Trapped in your frog position, a hand penetrates you from behind and leads you to a brief quick orgasm. In ecstasy, you let your head fall back and your tongue hang out of your open mouth. Your moan is suppressed with a piece of warm chocolate cake stuffed into your mouth. In order not to suffocate, you manage to swallow it whole just in time. When you have recovered a little, the wet palm of a hand rubs your cunt and the next piece of cake is waiting to be devoured on your lips. After a few more pieces, they strap on a double dildo and put the hose back into your mouth. You are as if in trance and infinitely horny, as if they had mixed something in with the food. When the switch is pushed into your hand, you are wonderfully occupied with yourself. This time no pain is bothering your mast, that has also been taken care of. Your belly stretches wider, becomes rounder, firmer, lies down on the stone floor, spreads your thighs. Your harness is adjusted to your size further and further, your arms and thighs grow like tree trunks. You have no clue how long they leave you like that, you just know that you have had many many sleep breaks but are still hanging there, swallowing cream and experiencing violent orgasms again and again until something seems to be dripping from your nipples. That’s when they pull you down, you are once again patted by many hands, massaged and stroked while they gently clean you with warm water and washcloths. After a while they leave you alone and you try to gather your strength to get up. Hands are held out to you as if trying to help, but you can't make it. The gravity of your endless fat, the missing muscles. As a living fat meatball you sag.

Somebody gives you an injection in your bulging neck and you pass out.