Blubberchins

chapter 1

You pull up on the mall parking lot. You had to drive around it twice to get a spot as close to the doors, really not wanting to walk any more than absolutely necessary. To think you used to jog 5 miles just like that. Now the mere thought of having to waddle in your painfully tight jeans to the food court feels overwhelming.

But a girl's gotta eat. And you're hungry.

Never mind you just finished the last of four chocolate bars and crumpled the last wrapper to the back seat a minute before turning to the parking lot. You carefully look down and causing your growing double chin to bunch into a big roll against your throat. There's a sea of muffin top flooding there. Barely covered by your stretchy top that used to be almost too big and loose. The quivering mass of fat is almost touching the steering wheel.

So fat. How could you have let yourself go like this. Such a fat, overfed pig! Your cheeks are puffed out. Breasts overflow your too small bra (it used to fit just two weeks ago). Your panties roll down under your big, fat belly. Nothing fits. Even your skin is ripping at its seams, bright red stretch marks forming all over your expanding belly. Oink oink.

With much more effort than you'd like to admit, you heave yourself out of the car and waddle towards the food court. You know you should be going to buy bigger clothes, but the thought of food is something you can't resist. You have lost all willpower when it comes to food. Shoveing in everything in sight like a hog.

There is so much jiggling and wiggling and sloshing and bouncing as you hurry to the eatery it feels ridiculous. God it must be so obvious what a prize pig you are now. You feel your fat bulge out in every direction from your two sizes too small clothes. People look when you pass them. They look twice. Some even stop to stare at the panting blimp waddling by. You feel as if you should oink for them. But its unnecessary.

Your chubby cheeks flushing from embarrassment you head to Pizza Hut where they sell instant slices. Perfect. You order two big slices and a coke. The clerk looks at you and shakes his head slightly. Another one who's let herself go completely.

You swore you'd stop gaining if you ever hit 250 pounds. Four months and countless fast food meals later the scale was groaning under your 260 pound weight. Did you stop your gluttony and go on a diet? No, of course not. Depressed form your lack of control, you binged even more, but swore you'd never let yourself get to 300 pounds.

300 pounds, you thought back then, is enormous. Hideously obese, a prize pig. You would never let yourself get that fat. But a little more ice cream could not hurt, could it? So what if it is a half a gallon tub? On top of a large pizza. In the middle of the night.

That was three or so months ago and your solution was to never set your foot on the scale after that. The pants you wore back then had ripped to shreds weeks ago. The shirt failed to cover the huge mound of your fat gut.

Greedily you shove the pizza in your fat face and feel the grease smear your lips. So good. You're a fat pig and unable to help it. In seconds the first slice is gone and you can feel your massive muffin top that much heavier against the button of your jeans.

"Mom, look at that fat lady. Why are her clothes so small?" a little girl asks loudly as she passes by you with her mother.

You blush a deeper red, so embarrassed. You want to say to the girl you can't help it. You're a helpless fat hog, helpless with food. Trying to stifle a moan, you inhale a big chunk of your second slice. A dribble of greasy cheese falls on your shirt. A sloppy, fat pig.

"Lady, are you sure you want all that?" a tall lean guy behind the counter at the desk of Wendy's asks you after you give your order of 2 burgers, 2 fries and two milkshakes. His question is understandable. The girl panting and sweating in front of him look ready to burst out of her clothes. She's leaning back to stay in balance with her massive belly, part of it exposed as her shirt fails to cover all of it. The rising hem of shirt also exposing jeans that have sunk two inches in her belly fat and look like they must explode off her any second. The girls face is round and fat too with a thick double chin hanging under her chin.

"It's uhh..not all for me. Well ok it is, but I haven't eaten all day you know."

"Look, I just saw you eat two slices of pizza across at Pizza Hut. I think everyone saw that. Its disgusting what you're doing to yourself. But hey, go for it. Soon you'll be too fat to walk and I won't have to watch your ugly *** here." the guy says, but gives you your order that barely fits on one tray.

You have to pick a tall table since sitting down isn't really an option after the pizza. You should just leave the tray there and waddle out with the remnants of your dignity and go to the clothes store like you were supposed to. Instead, you greedily chomp into the first burger and take a huge slurp of milkshake and let the salty and sweet mingle in your mouth before sending it down to your ever expanding, fat belly. Mmm sooo good.

Bite. Chew. Swallow. Repeat. You're on autopilot now, nothing can stop you from devouring every crumb of food. You'll deal with the consequences later, as always.

Not this time, though. A most terrifying sound snaps you out of your food trance. A muffled pop, followed by a rrrrip. Peering down, you see the button of your jeans resting on the floor.

You've never felt as embarrassed in your whole life. Not that many people noticed, but the guy behind the counter does. To make things worse, you realize without the jeans holding back, your belly has jumped forward and the shirt is doing an even worse job covering the stretch mark ridden ball of fat. Instinctively you try to suck it in, but fail miserably. You can barely take a deep breath from so much fattening food in your belly, not to mention sucking it in.

Out of nowhere a tall, lean good looking guy appears. He deftly picks up the button from the floor and hands it to you, smiling.

"Well well, look what we have here. I believe this is yours." he says casually, then leans closer and whispers in your ear: "Would you like some dessert, piggy?"
1 chapter, created StoryListingCard.php 9 years
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Comments

Severino 9 years
Point taken with the title lol. Thanks for the positive feedback, I might just write a few more chapters soon.