Chapter 6 - reawakening

Next thing I knew, I woke up in bed back home, empty plates and containers all around me. I didn't know where the food came from or how long I had been back for. Time was seemingly a blur as I lost myself in such a deep trance of overwhelming gluttony.

I was wearing the same outfit I'd had on when I left my father's farm. I had no way of knowing if that was yesterday, a week ago, a month. All I knew was that it no longer fit. My jeans were on the verge of bursting, having already been absurdly tight to begin win. My pale stomach was fully exposed by this point, the comparatively small shirt rolled up to just under my equally inflated breasts. Regardless of how much time had passed, it was clear that I had put on a substantial amount of weight.

Fully aware of this, I began to panic. Obviously, my desire to cut back had been overrode by my body's desire to keep stuffing itself with Kanamit food. I had seemingly lost all control and was just now coming to after drowning in a sea of cake and mozzarella sticks. This was more than just a lack of willpower; it was something bigger than that. As far as I knew, I was the only one on earth besides my dad who knew about their nefarious plan to eat us. I wouldn't have been surprised if they used some kind of mind control to make sure I kept eating. The thought of mind control had me increasingly panicked. If I was going to stop them, I knew I couldn't do it alone. I had to let other people know what was going on, in case I lost control again. I had to warn them.

I tried getting out of bed to mixed success. While I was eventually able to sit up, it took a great level of effort to do so. My body clearly wasn't accustomed to the new weight, making me believe I'd been gorging myself in bed for at least the last few days. This startled me even more as I realized I wasn't that far off from being permanently bedridden. There was definitely a clock for me to race against, one that ticked louder and louder with each wasted moment of wavering mobility.

As my pudgy bare feet hit the cold apartment floor, I forced my fat form into a standing position. Using my arms to push myself up, the sleeves of my shirt tore around the heavy flab encased within them. But the wardrobe malfunctions didn't stop there. One slow, waddly, step later, the seams on my pants had fully given way as the cellulite-covered veneer of my doughy thighs squeezed out like a souffle over the sides of a baking pan, along with a massive tear going right down the middle of my astounding ass. My jeans were clearly destroyed, falling down in a heap of useless fabric around my bloated ankles. But I couldn't let that distract me from my mission.

I knew nothing else in my closet would fit me at this point, so I decided to keep moving forward without the luxury of being fully clothed. I had to trek into the world with nothing more than a glorified bra on. Despite my typically modest nature, I couldn't allow myself to be fazed. Plus my concerns were meager, since most people would be too focused on eating to even notice a bottomless blob jiggling her way through town. I had also seen a lot of overfed bellies on display before, so that part wasn't too taboo. My own overfed belly was so large that it hung over my more 'private areas', so I wouldn't look too indecent from the front at least. My only concern was my obscenely large backside, which I could feel bouncing and wobbling with every labored step I took. It wouldn't be pretty, but I had to suck it up if I hoped to save myself and humanity as a whole.

As I lumbered my way into to my car, which was just barely big enough to fit me inside, I thought of who I should warn first. My new friends were a good bet, especially since I had seen firsthand just how big of pigs they'd all become. But then I thought about my boyfriend Rudy. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him, though to be fair, I couldn't remember much. He had been a total fitness guy when we started dating. He didn't eat processed food, he worked out twice a day, he was in tremendous shape. I often felt self-conscious around him, seeing how much effort he put into being healthy. I was naturally skinny, so I didn't have to worry about working out or watching what I ate much, so I'd feel kind of weird eating anything but a salad in front of him, since he'd often chastise me for having chips or cookies in my pantry. It could be why I was such an easy target for fattening, since I never had much reason to care. But I figured if there was one person in town who still have a BMI under pure pudding, it was Rudy. So I set my sights on his place as my foot laid heavy on the gas pedal.