Chapter 7 Support

I sent Dr. Jones a copy of my video on her email, asking her what she thought of it. I was already hungry again an hour after the donuts, no surprise there, I only had one box after all. I had to laugh at the idea of calling a whole box of donuts “only.” I had been eating so much since I began taking these pills. Yet, could feel the tingling sensation fading from my chest. Clearly it needed more fuel. As I thought on that though my mind was drawn to the feeling of my jeans around my hips, it was getting tight enough that it felt constricting. “Uhg, did these shrink again?” I complained as I took them off. See, that’s the good side of being home alone. Nobody cares if you randomly strip. As I took the jeans off I saw obvious indentations around my hips, the kind that just screamed that you had been wearing something that was far too small. I went to my room and put on a pair of sweat pants that I kept for when I felt bloated. They fit just fine of course.
In hindsight, this was a very clear warning, I’ve been noticing a lot of clear warnings in hindsight lately, I’ve had a lot of time to think in here.
Regardless, back to the past. I told myself I would try to not eat until dinner, then have a giant platter of takeout Chinese in front of the camera. I really should have known that was not an option given recent events. But I tried. As I waited the minutes passed by, feeling like hours. I looked at the clock, 12:16. I had barely made it past lunch and I felt like I was going to die if I didn’t put something in my stomach soon. “What the hell?” I exclaimed, “I’ve gone two days without eating before. Hell, I did it twice a month as part of a fasting diet. Why can’t I even skip a meal with these damned pills?” I felt like hitting something, why couldn’t I have been like Dr. Jones? She said she didn’t feel any hungrier at all, even with more than twice my dose. I decided I’d check out Jones’s Onlyfans to see if there was anything useful I could glean for my next show. She had made a compilation of shots throughout her growth that seemed interesting. It was about two months old and I clicked on the link to the video. I can see why this would appeal to fans of her content. It showed months, no, years of change in a few minutes. As Jones went from a B cup to an E in a flip show type video. It was weirdly exciting, I watched it thinking that would be me in time. I wonder how big Jones will be when I reach that point.
It was at this point that I noticed was blushing. My face was burning red hot in a way it never had before. Was this turning me on? I shook my head, no, I’m not even into women, forget the idea of a women’s l chests growing. I liked guys.
My stomach broke me out of this thought process with a sharp bolt of pain that went straight up my spine and into my head. “Fine, forget skipping lunch, just a small meal though.” I said to myself. God was I wrong. I went to my cupboard and found an unopened jar of peanut butter. I was originally planning on eating as much of it as I could stomach on camera, maybe making a stack of PB&Js. But I was too hungry to let it be saved for that. I pulled the lid off and got a tablespoon out of its drawer. I plunged the spoon into the jar and stuck it into my mouth with a moan of pleasure. Why the fuck was I skipping meals again? I know I can’t do that anymore, hell, I shouldn’t even delay them one minute. My internal monolog filled my mind with reminders to keep going as I ate, reminders to never stop eating for longer than I had to. I would never skip a meal again. I would never HAVE a meal again. I just won’t stop eating, ever again, no matter what. I groaned in frustration when my mouth got too gummed up to eat more peanut butter and rushed to the fridge. I knew what I needed to do. I got the gallon of milk I had been drinking from in my breakfast video and tilted it over with my lips wrapped around its spout. I drank until the need to breathe stopped me, I don’t know how long that was, but the jug was about a quarter full now. I didn’t bother checking it, but the jar of peanut butter lied, on the counter. It was nearly empty.
My stomach hurt slightly, but it felt so fucking good. I thought back to the idea of taking five bust-ex a day like Dr. Jones. The idea was out of the question, hell, I think if I actually did that I’d eat until my stomach burst and killed me like gluttony on Seven. I put the rest of the milk down and gasped for air in long, ragged breaths. That was intense, it was too intense to not have it on camera. Maybe I should just have one on the table, turn it on every time I eat. Forget two videos a day, have one for each time I eat. Yeah, that’ll work well. I put the remaining milk in the fridge, a strange tinge of regret hit me when I closed the door. That shouldn’t be going back in the box, it should be going into me. It should be feeding my hunger and fueling my breasts. I shook my head. This was driving me insane, why was I still doing this? As if answering my question that tingling feeling returned to my chest, stronger than before, as if it was reminding me of an answer I already knew on the inside. God it felt good. I was getting addicted to that high, if anything I wanted it higher. I ended up grasping my breast with a hand. “God, that is better than sex.” I thought back to my feelings of attraction to Jones. I wasn’t Bi, no, I didn’t want to be WITH her, I wanted to BE her. No, I was more selfish than her. I don’t care if other women get this feeling too, I just want more.
I sat down at my table, feeling my chest with both hands. “More, give me more.” I said in a tired voice. I ended up falling forward and passing out on my table. My last waking thought was how I hoped I got a repeat of that dream, tearing down the walls, no, how I wanted it in reality. I eventually snapped awake to my stomach growling. “Is all you ever do cry for food?” I said incredulously. Then realized something “No, you also digest a ton of it.” And grabbed one of my breasts in each hand, squeezing till it nearly hurt as I said, “and put every ounce of fat right here.” I had never felt so turned on, and yet, I didn’t want an orgasm, I didn’t want release. I wanted more. I pulled out my cell phone. It was 4:48. I’d had a hell of a nap right there. But the time wasn’t what I wanted just then. I opened up Postmates and went to the China Pepper Restaurant, the nearby Chinese place. I didn’t even look at what I ordered, I just got the family sized order of Chow Mein and of some kind of meat. I grabbed one breast in each hand and said “Family sized, I’m eating for these two.” To myself with a manic grin.
As I waited for my latest feast I checked my phone, I had one missed Email, from Dr. Jones. Upon opening i5 I saw,

Dearest Deborah.
I am glad to see you are embracing this lifestyle wholeheartedly. Few of the women I speak with at work are so motivated as we are. I feel we are kindred spirits you and I. It is wonderful to meet another who wants only to grow more and more, and I know you will succeed in your goal just as I have in my own thus far. I am nowhere near finished though, and I look forward to walking the long road to enormity beside you. I have gotten a subscription to your Onlyfans account, so I can monitor your progress as you do the same to me. I know you can do it, and I am hoping for your success to be even greater than my own.
-Doctor Delilah Jones
I didn’t know why, but something about that email excited me to no end. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone. Like I wasn’t insane despite my wants. I was honestly curious if what would happen if I increased my bust-ex dose even further. Jones HAD Said she would support our getting at least threw. But no, I couldn’t even keep up with the hunger now, forget with more. Speaking of hunger, the doorbell rang, my dinner had arrived.