I’m awoken from my mid-evening nap by the insatiable growl of my glorious gas-giant gut.
My sparkling starlight eyes flutter open to the beautiful expanse of belly flab rolling away from me like a great pink horizon. I turn my head slightly (grunting) to the mirrors placed strategically around the room. Along with 6 separate screens showing different angles of moi they allow me to admire my own sexy perfection, spellbound by myself as I gorge on endless feasts or fuck my boy toys. I’m a useless fucking swamp of a woman, seeing my naked pinkness spread like butter across my Alaskan King mattress turns me on so much. I try to move, just to see my massiveness wiggle helplessly. My hips drip like melted wax down the edges of my bed, my tumescent tummy tumbles over the end resting on a bank of luxurious duck-down pillows like a cherished pet. I’m enormous, impossible. I’m the perfect woman, 23 years old and 3,505lbs of idle bimbo. I love being so beautiful that I can become a useless blob, not have to care about anything but myself or know anything. I’m so in love with myself!
In a close-up angle I admire my unsurpassed face. Fuck I’m gorgeous, and I grow more gorgeous every day as I grow fatter. My face is rippled in rings of blubber from my neck, throat and shoulders like I’m swimming in pink thickness. My cheeks are pumpkins. My nose is upturned, forever sneering at the insignificants around me. My eyes are an enticing mixture of superior malice and airheaded glaze. Sexy doesn’t begin to describe me in my duvet-wide babydoll negligee with pink fuzz at the cups and hems, the sheer lace material sweated to my greasy skin. I also don a platinum crown and matching accessories with big pink squishy slippers. I’m reclined so sexy in my piss, sweat and shit stained bed.
After 2 minutes of admiring myself and suckling my cheesecake-smoothie-tube I notice my sexy pet-boyfriend sat on the side of my mattress, what he has causes me to salivate uncontrollably. It’s just a sub and a fountain drink, but sleeping is hungry work and I moan and mew seductively for him to feed it to me.
“Baaaaabe, I need it, what if I starve to death?” I whine, my feeding tube pumping me with 2000 calories a second. “But, Princess” he insolently replies, his stomach audibly squealing in starvation, “I spent all of your three hour nap cleaning you and making sure your lunch was waiting for you when you woke up, I haven’t had any time to eat or sleep in the past two days and...”
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHAAA!!!
I scream at him. How fucking dare he! What a SELFISH FAGGOT boyfriend is to eat right in front of me as I lay here STARVING like an African or a pet or something. He ought to respect me more!! “COME HERE AND FEED THAT TO ME NOW!!!” I turn beet red, yelling at boyfriend is the closest thing I’ve gotten to exercise since I was born. Naturally he obeys his obese Goddess’s commands and brings over my sub. I look at the thing, pathetic, it’s a 4-inch, which I would never order. I’ll practically inhale this thing in a second and forget it in even less time. I hardly even want it, but it’s there. Boyfriend crams it into my mouth so all the meatball sauce and melted cheese is sloppily smeared over my lips and chins. I begin to swallow without chewing, finally relieved of the crippling hunger that woke me. He stands there and watches me eat, a huge boner in his pants, I lick my lips. Picking up one of the several dozen cakes that wait in reserve on my nightstand he waits for me to finish. Instead, I swipe the fountain soda he inconsiderately hasn’t offered me, not even caring what it is. "No, Princess!!! Don’t--” I barely hear the selfish moron as eating for me is better than sex and I’m thrust into my epicurean thrall. With my teeth I rip off the plastic lid and straw of the fountain drink, letting it drop away from me to join the rest of the trash across my $5-million carpet. I raise the cup to my mouth, wheezing with the effort of moving my own arm, and glug the black soda in one greedy gulp. Acid fills my mouth. Bitter stinging, like some terrible medicine. I’ve been poisoned! I spit it out immediately, soaking my entire forefront and my boyfriend. “YOU FUCKING STUPID CUNT!!! THAT WAS DIET!!! YOU KNOW I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT HAVE ANYTHING DIET!! IT’S BAD FOR ME!!!” I inhale as much air as I physically can and release a great scream, thrashing my flabby arms and legs weakly. I don’t know how long I've been throwing this fit for but it stops as soon as boyfriend delivers the first handful of what better be many chocolate wedding cakes to my abused lips. As he feeds me I can see the worry on his face, he begs me to forgive him and apologizes over and over again. I’ll NEVER get over this, it could take forever to get the disgusting offensive linger of diet pop from my tongue. Oh god, I tear up just thinking about how close I came to swallowing. It’s turned sticky across my face and tits, which actually is kinda turning me on, but it doesn’t change anything. Once the taste is gone and once my belly’s full I’ll punish boyfriend worse than he’s ever been punished before. I’ll make one of my other boyfriends whip his cock and balls or I’ll make them do some faggot shit like sucking each other off, they’d hate that! HAHAHA*OINK*HAHAHA*OINK*!! As long as it’s cruel so he learns that the only thing important in his life, in the whole universe, is me! He starts off by bringing me cakes, pies and donuts while sending squadrons of servants to buy out every bakery in town. Next he brings everything else lying around in the kitchens. The cooking staff are all working overtime to feed me tonight, usually they take shifts so there’s always at least 20 cooks in the house but tonight I want them all in to be absolutely sure I don’t go hungry. Boyfriend and my anonymous servants deliver a great convoy of food carts to my bedside, each one covered in whole roast chickens, fries, mashed potatoes, gravy, whole hams, sausages, hash browns and even more food stuffs I can’t mention because I've eaten it before I get a chance to see what it is. There was enough food in my first course to feed a starving destitute family for an entire week but I finished it off in just over an hour. It turns me on to know I’ll forget this food and just shit it out, meaning nothing to me while others are going without. I hate poor people and love eating so much more than my own share. I carry on eating and eating for hours. By the time I’ve finished the first pathetic portion of my pet’s apology an order of 200 pizzas has arrived. He must really be sorry for what he did. Well GOOD because it’s going to take a LOT of food and groveling to make up for his abuse. The acrid diet taste faded hours ago but it’s the principle that matters, putting him in his place and elevating myself. Boyfriend and a team of servants brings in stacks of steamy, grease dripping pizzas. I vainly try to lean forward, desperate to get closer to the enrapturing warm smell but I fall back down in a profuse sweat, panting and drooling uncontrollably. Who am I kidding? I can’t get up because I deserve to not have to. For the next two hours I do nothing but lay back and glut on pizzas, washing my feast down with 50 bottles of REAL soda with added syrup and sugar and a hundred cartons of chocolate milk. Once it’s all done my servants arrive baring donuts, tarts, whole cakes, pastries, more donuts, croissants, cupcakes, muffins, pies, Danishes and even more donuts. This attempt at a snack takes just under 20 minutes to inhale, but by then more servants have arrived with more fast food. 50 giant bags of MacDonald’s burgers and fries are delivered to me and impatiently gobbled down. This Biblical binge continues seemingly forever with many different types of food being brought to me and offered as a token of my lover’s repentance. Settled into my huge feast I finally relax a little and let it all go. I drop a nasty shit, emptying my bowels into the receptacle beneath my ass. Thankfully it’s pure liquid so I don’t have to strain or push, I’m so special and wonderful I shouldn’t even have to put effort into my dumps. My belly deflates slightly, although it is still huge. I view my exquisite self in the mirrors and screens. I look like a food explosion, the initial blast emanating from my face in thick layers of cream and special sauce and melted globs of cheese. Food shrapnel is snagged in my perfect chocolate hair, fries and gherkin slices, cuts of pepperoni and all manner of casualties. The shockwaves carries out across me, my chest and tits stained in shimmering orange pizza grease, an avalanche of pastry flakes and smeared donut jelly. My hands are bloodied in cake and cream and syrup. My enormousness is painted like an easel to my selfish gluttony. As always, I am art. Looking at myself, I start to orgasm, sweat dripping liberally from my carnal excitement, washing away lines of food mess as I squirt and piss all over my bed. I continue to cum at the sight of myself, a useless pig blob Goddess, suckling on my cream-cheese smoothie feeding tube.
After 2 hours my orgasms end and I realize it’s morning. I was up all night feasting on boyfriend’s guilt and contrition. I’ve eaten nearly half-a-million dollars’ worth of food. "HEY DUM DUM” I yell to my loyal boyfriend “I'm STARVING, I haven't even had my god-damn-fucking BREAKFAST yet! You’re supposed to LOVE me and WORSHIP me you USELESS little WORM!! Make sure my breakfast is THREE TIMES the size of that PATHETIC snack you call an apology or you’ll be punished even worse than you're already gonna be. While I’m eating that you can wipe my ass!” He rushes to the kitchen to bring out the first of several hundred food trolleys constituting my depressingly small breakfast. I lay here and fantasize about how much I’m going to make him feed me over the rest of the day. God I love being the worst. Being the most selfish, cruel, ditzy, VAIN girlfriend in the world and still being so loved starts to make me cum all over again! Bae is so lucky to have me and he doesn’t even realize.