Little Miss Piggie

Big Time, Pig Time

My friend's son hasn't seen me in a while and boy was he surprised. "Dylan, do you rememb-""Why are you so fat? Do you eat a lot of candy and junk food? I think you're the fattest person I've ever seen! !" She's horrified. I laugh and my chins, neck and breasts jiggle in unison. "It's okay. I probably am the fattest person he's ever seen." "Are you still, uh doing that thing where you're gaining weight?" "Yeah. You're the second one lately to comment on that." I stretch out my arms to show off my body. My te rides up so that my stomach hangs out, my face looks extremely round. My thighs have gotten rather bulbous too. "Well, I can see you're eating good!" She wobbles my middle roll. "I wanna touch the fatty too!" He sinks his hands into my chub. "You're so soft and fluffy I love it! Molly when I grow up I want to be fat and fluffy like this too!" I ruffle his hair. "It's good to have goals." 

"Do you like being fat?" He tries to climb up on my lap, but my belly is starting to get in the way "I do! And one day, my belly will be so big, that it will fill up my entire lap!" "Wow. Will you be able to walk?" I shrug. "How will you get around? Will your friends have to roll you around to go places? " "Yes." 

I'm writing another personal ad. I want you to stuff me into a small piggie costume complete with ears, nose and tail. I want to be on all fours when you stuff my fat face into a sheet cake and force me to eat the entire thing. You've got a gallon of milk to help me wash it down it. Remind me of how many empty calories that have just passed through my lips. Tell me where you hope the calories from the cake end up on my body. Tell me that I'm turning into a human blimp and that I've never looked better.  Who wants to stuff me with a sheet cake once a week until I can no longer fit into this 3X work top I'm in. I'm hoping that the seams will be stretching within the next three to four weeks. 

My mother confronted me about my size and I came clean with her about my plan to become supersized and possibly even bed-bound. She slaps me. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're already like 400 pounds! You can't get any bigger! Jesus Christ, you want to be so fat that you're bed-bound?! Why?! You know what, I want you to strip down I just want to see just how big you've gotten. I can't believe you've eaten yourself to this size and you just want to keep going until you're the size of a house." She follows me inside up the two steps.  In my room, I take off my hoodie, pants and t-shirt. My bra is so tight it's barely holding on. I'm spilling out and over in every direction. The bikini string of my panties cuts into the rolls on my hips, some of my pudge spilling over and hiding the ties. My thighs are wide and wobbly. My ass is developing a thick layer of cellulite that rivals the layers of it on my hips. I do a twirl. "I think I've never looked better." I huff as I bend over to pick up another shirt off the floor. "Look, I gotta go, I have a date with a feeder. You know what a feeder is?" "Do I want to know?" "Its a guy or a girl that makes me eat. They encourage me, tease me and sometimes they force feed me all in an effort for me to grow even bigger." "No! You do not need to get any bigger! You look like someone has stuck a bike pump in your navel and puffed you up! If you put on any more weight you're going to pop! I don't want you to end up 600 pounds and stuffed into a hospital bed!" 

I struggle to get the top on over my chest. I love having my belly on display. I give it a pinch and a wobble. It goes on for a few seconds before stopping. "You have to come to terms with I love being fat." "There's fat and then there's being what you want to be! Baby, come on, you're going to end up the size of a small elephant!" I push past her and out to where my date is waiting to pick me up. "What's wrong with being an elephant?" 

This is my third date with this feeder. We're going to attempt to stuff an entire sheet cake into my empty belly. And if I manage to eat that, there is an entire tray of double fudge brownies for me to attempt to fit in. She loves how fat I'm getting. I love that she's into my fat and me getting even fatter. "There's just something so erotic about you when you're super bloated. You just look so fuckable with it looks like you're going to pop." "I love that stretched out feeling so much. I get to feel like a balloon for a bit and then I start to feel really heavy. My mother doesn't want me to get any bigger." She looks at me. "What did she say?" "She told me that I'm going to end up the size of a house if I keep stuffing my cheeks the way I do, that it's disgusting and that she doesn't want me to be that size." "What did you tell her?" "I told her that I love being fat." "That's it?" "What? Did you want me to tell her my latest fantasy?" I lick the icing off my lips. "And what would that be?" "Feed me another few forkfuls first." 

After 6 forkfuls of cake, I finally am ready to share my latest fantasy. "Well...it ends up with me being so goddamn enormous what I need to be cut out of the house to be taken to the hospital to be weighed. They have to consider using a special lift to help me up into a special ambulance. And you help me get there." "You're such a whale, you know that? It's so hot that you want to be so huge. She starts to rub my overstuffed love handles. "You really want me to help you get to that size? That's like a feeder's dream feedee." "I do...and maybe a few others can help keep me fed. My friends still sometimes take me out for feeding sessions after we make a batch of high dose edibles. I'm struggling to fit into the front seat of two of their small cars. I'm just getting too fat. I've got a seatbelt extender. I'm going to need to take it with me when I go on vacation. 

Once again my underpants are starting to cut into my fat. They're becoming unbearably right in the crotch and the back is wedged so deep between my blubbery ass cheeks that I have trouble pulling it out. It doesn't help the fat rolls that in the way are starting to hang down a little further these days. 

<Do note that I really am into being fed and possibly gaining to this size. If you would like to tease me about my increasing weight, tease me that one day I'll be too heavy to be weighed on a normal scale-on that note, why don't you make plans to take me to the local dump to get me weighed? Feed me until you have to roll me out of the back hatch of your mini van. Once my overfed form settles on the scale and it spits out a number, challenge me to get even bigger.>