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...till your belly's cross the floor.

Even though your aware that you life is in danger, your appetite keeps you planted on the ground, devouring everything within hands reach, pies and cakes, bon bons and buttercreams, cobblers and confections, it doesn't matter, you feel so hungry that you just can't help yourself, even though your stomach groans and aches at the sheer volume of stuff being crammed into it. It swells as it is stuffed to capacity, looking first like you'd swallowed a party balloon, then a basketball, then a beach ball. The paradoxical feeling it agonizing, your simultaneously feel like your going to burst if you swallow any more, while feeling as if your'll die without another bite of food. Fortunately, whatever magic is in play here is keeping your gut from rupturing. Unfortunately, it seems to do this by speeding up you digestion, as the rest of you begins swelling up as you swallow more and more.

Your engorged belly begins to swell and sag as food is converted into fat, which swells out into other parts of your body like your on a water hole pumping you up like a balloon. You shirt rides higher as your chest rolls out from underneath, resting on your belly and new lovehandles that inflate into a spare tire around your middle. Your buttcheeks quickly fill up the seat of your pants, which begin to creak as they push even further. Your legs and arms being pushing against the fabric of your selves and shorts, bulging as they are constricted by the openings. Your neck also swells out into another chin as your cheeks swell into jowls that would put an orangutan to shame. Pressure of your clothes grows as yoru body pushes more and more outward. The button of your pant suddenly shoots off as the fabric tears before your belly spills outward, forcing the zipper to unzip as the fleshy tide of blubber fills up the uncontested space. The seat of your pants give a groan, the a rip as the seams give out from the strain of the two globes of fat that strain through the openings, widening the tears. Your shirt begins following suit, as tears begin forming along the sleeves where your bulging arms burst their in-casements like over filled sausages, and the front of your shirt tears as the combination of your stomach and rolls of chest exceed it's stretching capacity. Your stomach continues rolling out between your legs, hitting the floor and spreading out. Soon the cage seems very cramped as your belly pushes against the bars and spills though in round bulges of fat.

By now you look like a furry gray blob as the rolls of fat proceed to hang down under gravity, and you can't help but think you need to be renamed Jabba the Mutt. Yet even though you look and feel like a blimp, your still feeling starved and hungry, and if you don't do something soon, even if you try you'll be so fat you won't be able to move, if your not there already!

Written by an anonymous author

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