Chapter 5. Room to grow

Shopping for clothes turned me on now. I would get wet staring at myself in the mirror in clothes that were my size, imagining how the fabric that sat well on me now would soon be straining to accomodate my expanding figure. As I tried on dress shirts for work I imagined how my belly would grow to fill them in, stretching the fabric until it would eventually tear and expose my complete loss of self-control to everyone in my vicinity. I purposely picked out dress pants with multiple extra inches in the waistband, picturing how I would swell until my belly would fill in the empty space and eventually, drape over the waistband itself when it could no longer contain me. I wanted to eat in them until I popped the button clean off with the sheer force of my gluttony.

I made a point of wearing more modest clothing at work as I had had maybe a little too much fun with my exhibitionism there. However as I grew, I began to get off in other ways than simply absorbing the stares directed at my fattening body. For example, I always made a point of taking the stairs at work. As my indulgences showed more and more in my body, it became more and more difficult to make it to the office. I relished the way my entire body jiggled with every step, how my belly and boobs quaked and my ass shook as I heaved my leviathan form higher and higher. I was exerting so much effort fighting this war against gravity itself, that by the time I reached the office I would be out of breath. I hammed it up for my co-workers, making sure they got a good look at my massive body as I took a break by the stairwell. Then I would continue to my office. Red in the face and panting, with sweat soaking through my shirt at my underarms and on my back, where I had begun to develop saggy rolls. It thrilled me how unfit I was becoming, another tangible result of my persistent efforts to let myself go as far as I could. I wanted to become enormous.

Another thing that turned me on as I made myself fatter was how much more physical space I occupied. I felt a tingling below every time I accidentally bumped something with my cumbersome belly or opulent bum. It reminded me that I still wasn't used to this new, abundant body. I began to struggle to squeeze through the tight spaces between cubicles at work, apologizing profusely and feeling moisture flood my panties as I took in the disgusted expressions this elicited.

I rejoiced in eating whatever the fuck I wanted in any quantity, and I needed to feel full all the time. I made a habit of heading to the food court in the local mall after work, where I would order preposterous amounts of food from multiple mall food stations and choose a table well-in-view of the highest density of foot traffic so passerby could admire me. I loved eating in public. I felt the eyes of strangers devour me as I devoured my resplendent feasts, and I imagined the judgemental, revolted thoughts coursing through their minds as I humiliated myself in front of them.

Even though I had a car I started to take transit in order to soak up more attention from strangers. One evening, I got on the bus huffing and puffing as usual from the toil of waddling to the bus stop after a particularly intensive pizza stuffing. Immediately, a handsome gentleman sprung up to offer me his seat and I took it shamelessly. I had gotten into the habit of resting a hand on the shelf that my belly provided at all times, as if I was expecting. It was a constant reminder of the extent of my indulgences and a visual indicator of my progress so far.

"What is the gender of the baby?" Asked the man warmly, "If you don't mind me inquiring. You must be so excited."

"Oh, it's not a boy or a girl", I replied with a broad smile, "it's pizza."

He flushed a deep pink. "Please forgive me, it was foolish of me to assume."

Blood flowed to my nether regions as I watched him squirm awkwardly.

"That's alright, I don't mind." I quite liked it, actually. It turned me on that I was drawing attention. It turned me on to be seen, to be noticed. To feel eyes on my fattened form as I went about every part of my day. I was broadcasting to the whole world the greedy pig I was becoming, the fat girl I had always been on the inside. I wanted them all to know.