Scyth's Corner

You feel it before you fully wake - the low, incessant hum, pulsing deep. A moan slips from your lips before you can stop it. Pleasure and frustration. Your thighs twitch, clenching around the growing heat, a fading dullness bound on how tightly your body lies confined. How heavy your limbs feel, wrapped under the weight of yourself.

The remote.

Where is it? You grope blindly in the sheets, fingers scrabbling over sweaty blankets. Nothing. Your breathing quickens as you try to remember.

This isn't a dream…

You shift, twisting awkwardly, hips crunching the springs of the mattress as you stretch toward the nightstand. No, not there. Maybe you dropped it. Arching, sucking in, you face the floor. A choked sound escapes your throat as another wave of sensation rolls through you.

You’re not in control.

Your eyes snap open. His room is dark, save the soft glow from your phone on the dresser, blinking with unread messages. Speckled air falls thick and warm, your scent clinging to the sheets.

You try to move, try to grasp between your legs to pull the vibrator out, but as soon as your fingers slip beneath the thick swell of your belly, you feel yourself strain. Tense. Freeze.

Something’s wrong.

You can’t reach. Panic lances through you. Your once flat belly presses down on your thighs, bunching against your wrist as you fumble uselessly. Your fingers graze the sensitive skin between your legs, but it’s not enough - you can’t get the right angle; can’t grasp the toy buried deep inside you.

Too far gone.

You shift again, trying to roll to one flabby side, but the mattress bends and sinks, holding you in place like a soft, suffocating trap.

And then it happens. The vibrations intensify.

A whimper catches your throat. He’s watching. Somewhere he’s holding the remote, smirking while you struggle, feeding off your helplessness. You muster enough will to try again, flinging your arms, shunting your shoulders to edge your stomach away, but the effort is exhausting. You falter, your rolls sandwich the pillows, the pressure mounting within.

You pant, electricity trickling down your sides, ripples wafting in the folds of your flesh. You’ve felt yourself losing your grip, getting bigger - clothes growing tighter, the climb up the stairs slowing, roundness creeping in where there was once definition. You told yourself it was fine. That he loved your curves, that sex was easier when there was more of you to caress.

But you realise now that this isn’t just indulgence. This is you corralled. Cattle-prodded…

The remote buzzes again. Higher.

Your blubbery body jerks with ecstasy, thighs trembling as the rush rockets through you. You pound at the sheets, desperate to ground yourself, but it’s too much. You’re too full, too sensitive, every inch of you thrumming with stimulation.

“Stop,” you gasp. You don’t know if he can hear you.

Or if he would listen.

If it’s even him.

Up ratchets the intensity. Your whole body quivers. You used to be so much fitter. Your breath comes in ragged sobs. Your fingers dig into your fat, frenzied, searching. You buck again, trying to sit up, but the bulk wrests you down, keeps you in your place, makes you weak and pliant beneath the relentless pleasure.

Tears sting your eyes. You can’t move. Can’t function. Too enthralled. The room sways around you, shimmering. Too overwhelmed…

You don’t know how long it lasts. Minutes? Hours? Time stretches, warps, becomes nothing but implosion. The remoulding of your every swelling inch, stretching you out. When the vibrations finally stop, you feel like jelly. Sopping. Overspilling.

You don’t try to remove it again.

You don’t move at all.

You just lie there, fat, blushing in darkness, caught between exhaustion and expansion, chest rising and falling. Hundreds of pounds…

The stairs rankle. The door handle turns.

i did draw something like this already, though i guess it isn’t technically sumo wriothesley

your behavior has made me realize i should be "meaner": horoscopes are fake.

the position of planets and balls of gas did not in any way impact your personality or destiny. it has nothing to do with what kind of people you are compatible with, despite what an app or magazine told you.

i think sincere belief in horoscopes shows a concerning propensity to trust pseudoscience and a susceptibility to confirmation bias.

Huff.. Guess I gotta keep on growing, I won’t let the coach down!

Of all the script justifications for Scooby to randomly be in a spooky alleyway?

An ultra, ultra, ultra, ultra-long sandwich…

…shared with this hideous abomination of a Shaggy…

…requiring venturing outside for effective consumption?

That's the best kinda plot convenience, folks.

One of my first jobs after I got my masters in medical anthropology was working on a team designing a culturally inclusive type 2 diabetes prevention program. I learned a lot from the nurses and doctors I worked alongside. I’ve also learned a lot from having diabetes for the last 10 years while also gaining about 300 pounds on purpose.

Prevention

A lot of this is also good advice for managing your blood sugar if you already have a diabetes diagnosis.

1. It’s not always possible if you are genetically predisposed. But you can definitely delay the onset.

2. Physical activity lowers blood sugar and decreases insulin resistance. It doesn’t have to be arduous, even just going for a walk a few times a week helps. Try to find something you enjoy. I like to swim laps at the gym.

3. Eating balanced meals and choosing complex carbs over simple ones. This means whole grains and making sure you have protein, fat and veggies in roughly equal amounts in each meal. It’s never a bad idea to have more veggies.

4. Don’t freak out about a pre-diabetic diagnosis. This is a controversial diagnosis and is not accepted by the WHO. About 50% of those who receive this diagnosis go on to develop diabetes. It’s about as predictive as a coin flip. The positive is that it can serve as an impetus to try some of these strategies to prevent or delay actual diabetes.

Management

1. Don’t freak out if you are diagnosed. This is an easy disease to manage.

2. Don’t neglect managing it. Uncontrolled diabetes has significant consequences like blindness, amputation etc.

3. Losing massive amounts of weight to “cure” diabetes doesn’t work. You may see a temporary return to normal blood sugars but you will regain the weight back just like 90% of dieters do. And when you do regain the weight your blood sugar control will likely be worse than before.

4. Ask your doctor for a continuous glucose monitor CGM. They are probably free through your insurance. They are a wearable device that transmits glucose numbers to your phone. They keep you from having to constantly prick your fingers.

5. You have many non injection options for medication. Lots of different pills.

6. Insulin works great. Many doctors will want to delay starting you on it or push weight loss meds. This is because most people gain weight on insulin. Another medication that works really well and also causes significant weight gain is Actos. This medication actually helps move visceral fat out of your liver and turns it into beneficial subcutaneous fat.

7. You are the person who decides what medications and treatments you go on. Not your doctor. There may be limits set by your insurance but if you don’t want to take a particular medication and want to instead try something else you have every right to tell your doctor this. You can also tell them you are not interested in losing weight. You can also decline to be weighed at the doctor. They are providing you a service, they are not your boss even though they have power in the interaction. This is called patient’s right of refusal and you should exercise it.

Nothing better than asking your pet to flex and seeing no difference. To grope their arm fat and detect nothing but useless blubber then bone. To truly know this thing that used to be a person will never retake control of it’s life.

Don’t care if you’re 500lbs, 350lbs, or 180lbs. If you need help getting up, can waddle around comfortably, or can run a mile. You need to stay in bed or on the couch. Limit your movement to the bare minimum. I want you tracking your daily steps and keeping them below 1000 a day at the absolute maximum. Day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, that number will decrease until it reaches zero. Permanently.

No lifting anything except junk food to shove down your throat. Fruits and veggies are out along with lean proteins. Starve your muscles and glut yourself on simple carbs that fill you with calories but leave you starving again in an hour without actually giving any nutrition. Overfed and undernourished.

There are some really huge but quite fit and active fatties out there. That’s not what I want for you. I want you gasping for breath, red in the face, legs burning walking up the stairs at only 250lbs. Unable to meaningfully participate in sex without almost passing out at 350. Immobilized hundreds of pounds earlier than your peers not from sheer weight alone, but crippling weakness.