CW: Humiliation/Degradation
Your weight is out of control, like seriously.
I didn’t wanna say anything cause I know I played a part in it, but this is insane. At first, I didn’t think about it cause everyone gains weight sometimes, yknow? It’s normal. But you’ve blown up so quickly, it’s almost like you’re doing it on purpose.
I can admit that it all started after that treacherous group project- even though you weren’t that small back then, but whatever. I didn’t see the harm in a hotbox followed by some fast food after every session. I thought it would be a nice treat after we put in all that work.
And when the project was over our group saw it right to celebrate. So we went even bigger; edibles at the buffet. Again, I can admit that we all ate more than we could usually handle, but you? You made a spectacle of yourself. You carried two packed plates each time you got up and it sounded like you were out of breath each time you had to get up. I don’t know if you realized, but when we were leaving your shirt rode up and everybody could see your belly and the top of your ass crack. Oh, and your shirt was clinging to your belly. You even said you looked pregnant, then you started rubbing your gut like you were. We thought it was funny and a couple other people even joined in. But I digress.
Even after the project when we really became friends, we would do the same thing. Get high and eat, get drunk and eat, get cross faded and eat. I noticed you pudging up, but I thought you would bounce back like I do. But you didn’t, and I think it might be too late for that anyway.
You know what else I noticed? You have like, no more stamina. Everybody has to climb the same flight of stairs to get to my room, but you be huffing and puffing when you get here and it lasts for at least five minutes. And it’s getting worst. Like fuck, I’m only on the second floor.
I mean, we can’t even go out anymore cause when you’re always complaining about how all of your clothes are too tight. I mean they are, sometimes when you’re reaching for stuff your belly peeks out… and your shorts ride up a lot. But it’s so obvious why they don’t fit. So we end up staying in, getting faded, and ordering a bunch of food.
And I’m sorry, but going to the mall with you is so draining. I love the shopping and stuff but you start complaining about how you’re “starving” after one store and I end up in the food court waiting for you to go to two or three different restaurants. And THEN I have to sit and wait for half an hour while you shove everything down your gullet while people stare. Aren’t you embarrassed by that?
Ugh, and when we go grocery shopping? The junk you put in your cart is something to be ashamed of. I know Little Debbie HATES to see you coming. I mean, pints of the fattiest ice creams, chips, snack cakes, 2 liter sodas, chocolates, candies… Your cart is always packed but there’s never a vegetable in sight. Isn’t that concerning?
And it’s showing in your body. You have stretch marks all over your belly and love handles, your arms are puckering, you have a double chin now, and your thighs have cellulite all over them. Fuck, you jiggle with every step you take. And again, you’re out of breath all the time. When you come by me, when you get up to go to the bathroom, when you eat... I can literally hear you breathing hard right now, and you’re just sitting there.
Is this your fetish or something? No judgement. I mean, why else would you be doing this to yourself? You stuff your face then “joke” about how fat you feel, like you want me to validate your gluttony or something. You always wear these skimpy little clothes when you come over like you want me to ogle at your growing body, and you eat until you can’t move every time we stay in. And even when we would go out, you swore you couldn’t leave until you ate, which duh, you don’t wanna be out for hours with an empty stomach. So on top of being bloated from the pregame, you packed your gut with some greasy bullshit from the closest fast food place instead of something that would actually keep you full. Cause you would bitch about being hungry like hour into the functions.
So be honest. Does it get you wet? When you overeat and you’re moaning about how fast you made yourself do you soak through your panties? Are you gonna cum in your itty bitty shorts if I touch your fat ass stretched out gut? Hm? What if I pulled your shirt up and made you jump? Actually… I saw you bite your lip a little earlier. Oh my gosh, you got off to this whole conversation, didn’t you?
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