The big bellied dancer

chapter 5

I returned home fully bloated and slinked into bed. The following morning I woke up late, closing my eyes to the sun shining in through the window. The enchantment of the night before had worn off, leaving me groggy, slightly queasy, and most of all, confused. The night at Hedon felt like a dream. All of the emotions I’d felt - desire, sexiness, belonging - had faded. Was this really what I wanted?

I needed to spend the afternoon studying, but decided to test things out at home. I knew Hannah would be out of the apartment, so I trundled over to the fridge and grabbed a nearly full box of pizza leftover from the other night. I took it to the table, sat, and stared at it. My stomach grumbled as if asking, “What are you about to do to me?”

I reached for the first cold slice, letting the cornmeal dust my fingers. Congealed cheese was studded with thick slices of pepperoni, salami, and bacon. I’d brought it home at the end of a student life mixer that I hadn’t actually attended. I knew how to play the free food game.

I took the first bite, letting the flavors dance over my tongue. Then I took a second bite, and a third. I closed my eyes, completely focused on every sensation in my body: the icky gurgles of my still bloated stomach, the taste of pizza on my tongue, how my pajama bottoms rested comfortably at my navel. I tried to imagine what it’d be like if my clothes didn’t fit at all, if I ballooned up in size and gave in to what Hedon wanted.

A masturbatory throb built between my legs. I squeezed my thighs together, only slightly surprised. Prior to performing at Hedon I’d never considered food as an aphrodisiac, let alone thinking a big belly was sexy, but then again, I’d never been exposed to the idea. Feederism didn’t exist in pop culture.

I eagerly reached for the second slice, then the third. Pressure was starting to build in my midsection, but I ignored it. I crammed almost-crunchy pizza crusts into my mouth, using one greasy hand to rub at my firm, swollen stomach. I felt like I was pregnant, but it was just a food baby. A rogue burp rumbled past my grease-stained lips and I delighted in the sound, like it was music. I grunted softly, then let out a second belch.

Only one slice of pizza remained in the box. My stomach churned. I was stuffed, five big slices of pizza already sitting heavy in my gut. I felt huge, weighed down, tired. All I wanted to do was crawl back in bed to masturbate and rub my poor stomach. Yet that last piece taunted me, daring me to push my already overtaxed belly just a little more. Could I do it? I had to at least try.

I reached forward, taking the first bite, then a second. I chewed slowly. Heartburn started rising in my esophagus. I was overdoing it, but I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to keep eating, to see my belly get bigger and bigger, all of that food churning into fat and caking itself onto my frame so I would get bigger and sexier. This was such a new experience, but I wasn’t scared. I was excited.

I ate the final bite, then slid my pajama pants down and pulled my camisole up to sit at my ribs, staring down my bloated stomach. I rubbed over the domed skin with both hands, taking complete pleasure in how big I was. I loved this.

The front door opened. My head snapped up as Hannah walked in. Shit. Was it already time for her to be back from work? Before I could hide what I’d been doing, she spotted me and stared.

“Uhh… what are you doing?” she asked. I casually fixed my clothes, then decided on the truth.

“Practicing for my new job.” I held my head high, daring her to say something. If I thought my bravado would stop her, I was dead wrong. She sighed.

“So you’re back to entertaining?” she asked. “I really hoped you were over that.”

“It pays the bills. Besides, Hedon’s different. It’s plus-sized friendly.” I didn’t know why I was telling her this. I didn’t owe Hannah any details of my life, especially when she acted like I was her personal biggest disappointment. I wanted to like her, since we were living together and all, but I mostly just found her obnoxious.

Predictably, Hannah wrinkled her nose like I’d just let out a nasty fart or something. “So now you’re getting fat on purpose? Don’t you think that’s unhealthy? At least with exotic dancing it was also a physical activity.” Her gaze dropped to my covered belly, judging me for how bloated I was. It irritated me more than it should have. I lurched to my feet.

“That’s really fatphobic of you, don’t you think?” I pointed out as I headed for my room. I didn’t want her to completely kill my mood.

“It’s not fatphobia when science has directly related fat with all sorts of health issues,” she argued, following me down the hallway. I rolled my eyes.

“You really don’t have to keep going. Your opinion doesn’t matter anyway. At the end of the day I’m going to do what brings me joy, and right now, that’s pizza and burgers,” I retorted.

“I just think you should take care of yourself,” Hannah basically whined, but I went into my room and closed the door in her face. I had already made up my mind: I was team Hedon.

--
The Big Bellied Dancer is available for purchase now! Get your copy from Amazon here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09T8CTWWP.