Chapter 4

For the most part, Ana kept to her convictions and resisted the urge to join her reflection in hedonistic bliss. But the longer she refrained, the more likely she was to snap and completely binge for several days or a weekend. This pattern invariably undid any of the fitness progress she had made since her last relapse. It was almost as if she wanted to fail in her fitness goals.

Slowly but surely, Ana's toned physique was lost and covered instead with a small layer of embarrassing lumps and bumps. Stubborn as she was, Ana refused to upsize her wardrobe. 'It's just a temporary set back,' she told herself. 'I'll be back to my old figure in no time.' To the rest of her colleagues, who could see Ana's love handles and beginner belly rising out of her undersized work clothes, it was more than obvious that she had let go and given up on staying healthy.

By late summer, Ana saw a picture of herself from a company event, and was shocked to see how tubby and out of shape she looked in comparison to her ultra fit co-workers. It had been a long time since she had seen her figure. She wasn't able to use her own reflection to keep track of her weight, given her reflection had continued to grow and grow and grow. Putting away the photo of her belly peaking out the bottom of her work shit, Ana walked over to the nearest mirror to see how her doppelganger was doing.

Her reflection was aggravatingly happier despite her massive size. In the months that had passed, Ana had tried to ignore how big her doppelganger had grown. Standing there before her, Ana eyed her reflection up and down. She studied the curve of her reflection's plump calves, her juicy thighs, and her enormous hips. Even her reflection's pussy was fat now. And hanging above all that was a quivering, almost pendulous gut that rippled like jello and curved around to thick, meaty love handles that turned into a defined roll of back fat. ‘Back fat!’ Ana reminded herself. That's how fat she would be soon.

Above the lower belly was a plump upper belly, complete with red angry lives where her had been belly tucked itself into her tight clothes all day. Her reflection's breasts were swollen beyond belief as well. As they had grown, they had begun to hang somewhat lower and to the sides. They had to be several cup sizes larger, and she imagined how they must smother her while lying down or rest on her belly when seated, which Ana was sure was quite often. Next were her reflection's plump, almost pillowy arms and chubby double chin. Long gone were any sign of visible collar bones. Even her reflection 's shoulders had become soft and rounded.

But Ana did not see her reflection as a separate person. Now, she felt as though her reflection might as well be her if she didn't get act together. Unready to admit how exciting it would be to join her, Ana told herself this was a warning. A wake up call. Even now, though she realized she was lying to herself, she told herself that she desperately did not want to not give in.

In an act of desperation, Ana went back to her phone and pulled up the feederism website she pretended she had only visited once or twice. Heading to the local users section, Ana put in her preferences and only at the last moment before she clicked search, did she finally deselect the “fa” and ”feeder” result options. What she needed was somebody else to pour these desires, and these pounds into: she needed a feedee. Surely then she would she be free from her impulses. Soon, a plethora of eligible feedees filled her screen, and Ana set to work browsing and narrowing down her list to the feedees she found most attractive and most compatible. And then she found Meg. Without bothering to finish reading the other profiles, Ana sent off her thirtsy, ill-advised introduction.

Having clicked send before she could talk herself out of it, Ana' anxiety crescendoed until she soon heard the chime signaling Meg's response.