Little Miss Piggie

Staypuft

I was a heavy 575 pounds when the loveseat collapsed. I fell to the ground with a huge crash. I wasn't expecting that. Neither was the plate of fried pickles I was currently dipping in ketchup. My newest feeder ran over when he heard the noise. "Are you okay?" He finds me looking like a blob, leaning back with a stunned look on my face, ketchup covering my chins and tits. I'm struggling to reach one of the pickles on the floor. "Outgrew another piece of furniture and you still can't resist stuffing your face...you're going to be my 600-pound pet in no time. I'm thinking that 600 is a little on the skinny side, don't you?" I don't answer the question. "Do we have any more chicken?"

My gluttony is completely out of control. I'm doing funnel feedings a few times a week. It feels like 600 pounds is right around the corner. I'm looking forward to the day when I waddle up to the scale and I hear the number. I'm going to have to have someone take a picture of the number on the scale because there is no way in hell that I'll be able to see over my stomach to read the number. 

I jump into the pool. I love to float around. I'm starting to look like the Staypuft Marshmallow man, so why not wear a custom bikini inspired by his cute little outfit? Both my asscheeks were filled with dimples and cellulite. My inner thighs had deep stretch marks. My stomach was completely covering my crotch, while my fupa, although hidden, was building beneath it. My mother couldn't keep her mouth shut about my weight. 

"Jesus Christ, she's enormous! I can't believe how big she's gotten, I mean...there's not one part of her that isn't inflated! I told her that if she kept eating like an elephant that she'd end up 600 pounds and bedbound!" "Christ, what did she say to that?" "That's what I told her, but all that came after she told me that she wanted to be at least 600 pounds and eventually bed bound!" "WHAT?" "I saw on her Amazon wishlist a bariatric bed with a built-in scale!" "That's sick..." "She said she loves being huge. I just can't believe she's done it. I don't know what I'm going to do when I walk into a room and see my daughter so fat that she can't walk and all she can really do is eat? What kind of a life is that?" 

We decided to go on vacation not too long after my mother's pool party. I knew that at my size, I had no choice but to buy all three seats. We were lucky that my modelling career had taken off. People just couldn't get enough of my gluttony. I started having private feedings the last week. They're all booked up from when I return from vacation next week. I wonder how much faster I'm going to pack on the pounds once I have three people feeding me? I'm daydreaming about another endless stream of calories while I'm helped into the extra-wide wheelchair at the airport. "Thank God we get to board early. I haven't flown in the longest time. I don't know how I'm going to fit into the seats this time." "Don't worry. You'll look cute with your belly squished up against the seat. Don't be ashamed my chubby cherub. You've never looked better." 

They wheel me up the ramp and try to help me through the aeroplane door. I'm almost as wide, was it. It takes me a good 15 minutes to wiggle my fat ass through the narrow passageway. I can barely fit into the space that I'm assigned to. The attendant stretches the extender over my stomach. If I get any bigger I'm going to have to ride in the cargo hold. As if she's reading my mind, she leans over and whispers to me, "Hey, just imagine when you're 600 plus pounds; You're probably going to have to ride in the cargo hold with the rest of the elephants." I'm not worried about that; I'm wondering if they have chocolate-covered cashews on the flight or not. 

I came back from vacation weighing in at a rather impressive 590 pounds. 600 was just around the corner; I could taste it. You know, now that 600 is right around the corner, I'm thinking that yeah, I'll go for that 640 goal! I'll do a special video photoshoot to compare the fantasy drawing version of it to the reality and a photo spread! That will be amazing! I can't wait to see the comparison between the two of them. I think I'll probably be bed-bound by the time I get there. Although...it is just 50 pounds. After all the weight that I've put on, really what is 50 pounds?

I really don't fit into my specialised tub anymore. I guess I had too many soaks whole stuffing my face with chocolate. By blubbery body no longer can be pushed down into the basin. We're going to have to upgrade to something of a jacuzzi size or something along those lines; one a fatty can walk into. "Don't worry tubby, I'll take care of you. Do you want another piece of chocolate? This one's filled with raspberry cream." I open my mouth. God, I love being fed. It's so erotic. 

I know that when I reach 600 pounds there will be no turning back. That's what my mother told me. She told me that when I reach 600 pounds, I would have to make a decision. Keep getting fatter, giving in to my morbid obesity or would I begin a diet plan and get bariatric surgery to lose weight? I don't know if I'd be able to stop eating if I tried. I don't like moving too much anymore. After the sofa collapsing earlier this year and us needing to reinforce the bed just in case and I knew that I would soon have to make a decision. I knew I was probably going to continue eating my past 600 and up to the 640 pounds babe that I saw myself at. I've finally saved up enough money to get the bed that I want. My three other feeders chipped in and bought me it. Who am I kidding? I'm gonna balloon past 600 in no time. I can't wait to call my mother and show her. She's going to love that her prophecy came true. If she thought I was huge before, just wait until I struggle to fir through her front door. 

I remember that time that I got stuck in that Airbnb shower box. I should have known that I was too wide to fit inside it, but I really wanted to shower. My fluff was pressed up against the wall and the shower door. It was so erotic knowing that I had eaten myself to this size. 

I was at Costco with my nurse the other week when I ran into an old friend. I haven't seen her in about 200 pounds. It took her a minute to realise who I was. I love when I've put on weight and people are shocked to see how much fatter I am the next time that they see me. I knew she was shocked. It's not every day that you run into a former co-worker that's a half-ton. 

"What have you been up to this evening? (Besides eating??) "I model from time to time. I'm a supersized BBW model. I sell my photos and videos. Fans pay to feed me or watch me wear a certain outfit or binge eat something." "Jesus. How much do these people pay you? They're literally paying you to get fat! How much do you even weigh now? 600 pounds?" "Almost! Within the next few months, I hope." Her mouth hangs open. "Well, I'll catch you later!" I scoot away, the scooter whining as I accelerated. I love when people are shocked at how inhumanly fat I'm getting.