The next couple weeks were a blur. She went radio silent on all her accounts and didn't step foot outside her apartment. She barely stepped foot off her couch. It was a dazed extended crash out. Massive consumption like she never had allowed herself before. The last venere of discipline was gone and never to return. Four shakes in a day, door dash for multiple meals. Constant snacks. Anything to keep her belly full and head empty so she didn't have to think about what she was going to do next.
Eventually, she came to surrounded by piles of fast food wrappers, empty take-out cartons, and bottles of chugged shakes encircling her on her couch and coffee table. She felt dazed and disoriented. Yeah she had nothing to do, but she felt like she probably should do something.
Getting up from the couch, she felt so heavy and lethargic as she slowly wandered to the kitchen to grab her phone off the counter. Funny enough, the kitchen was actually pretty clean, since all she had eaten since god knows when was take-out. The mess was contained to the piles of trash surrounding the couch.
Opening up the apps for the first time since being dropped by the company, there were so many DMs. A lot of the usual horny dudes, but mixed in with some expressions of real concern. She'd been a multiple-times a day poster for a couple years now, and it had been 2 full weeks since her last post. She really didn't want to, but she guessed she owed her fans some sort of explanation. She was self-aware enough to change out of her grease-stained sweats and into her [former] work uniform -- gym clothes. The shorts took some effort to get over her hips and some real yanking to get over her still partially bloated -- but by now very soft -- belly. The top was just as hard to get on and felt super tight and uncomfortable on her tits. The video was shot in one take and very raw -- both rarities for her. She explained that she had been dropped from the company -- she didn't explain why -- and that she was going to be slowing down on posting for a while to give her self space to figure things out. There were tears as she thanked her supporters and promised she'd be back to normal as soon as possible. The vulnerability exhausted her and she was too drained to look over the video, so she did something unheard of for a well-currated princess, and just posted it.
She hadn't showered in a couple days and felt greasy and disgusting, especially while squeezed into her ill-fitting gym attire. She peeled it all off -- it was as hard getting it off as it was getting it on -- and hopped in the shower. When she emerged, she quickly wrapped a towel around herself before the steam disappated and allowed her to see herself in the mirror. She both knew and was deeply afraid of what she might see and was not prepared to face it quite yet, hence the quickness with the towel. Nevertheless she could still see a distinct protrusion below and almost past her tits from under the towel. She was still bloated, she told hersel, and yet there was still that first pang of dread.
She got ready, meaning brushing her hair and putting on a fresh pair of not-as-loose-as-she'd-like sweats, before cleaning up the warzone in her living room. The crate of shakes was staring at her from accross the room. Her belly was gurgling as she put the last bit of trash in the bag, and was growling by the time she got back from taking it out. Her reward was a quick chug. It was a little concerning to see how few bottles were left in the crate after her weeks long binge, and the thought that she wouldn't be getting any more shipments made her tummy sad. Those concerns were partially disapated once the shake was fully in her belly. She felt partially back to equillibrium. She still needed some sort of breakfast, she thought to herself -- as if one of those shakes wasn't a meal -- but she was already feeling better.
Soon after, she re-opened her phone, and to her surprise that last video was doing numbers. Tons of likes & comments; a good bit more engagement than she had been getting recently. The numbers lifted her spirits. Maybe she still had it, she thought, until she actually looked at what people were saying.
"Holy shit! Those shakes did a number on her"
"Damn girl, looking soooo thiccccccc😍"
"Maybe time to get some clothes that fit?"
And so, so, so many more in a similar vein. A lot derogatory, many psotive, and most somewhere in between that she couldn't quite decipher. Also a few calling her "so brave", which somehow felt even worse. Only a small minority of the "oh gosh, I'm so sorry to hear that" she expected. Then she watched the video and it all made sense in the worst possible way. She looked liked a sausage spilling out of its casing. The top of her belly was peaking over the high waist of her shorts, her sports bra was digging into her back fat - she actually had back fat now! - and her face looked round and puffy. All that junk food aparantly wasn't helping her complexion either. The last few months she had been so intentional with the angles she was recording from, even sucking in when need be, and now the illusion had been shattered with a single, unfiltered video of vulnerability. But again, her influencer savvy kicked and she reminded herself: numbers were numbers, and this was actually spiking her numbers. Likes, engagement, and definitely a change in followers, but surprisingly, a net positive in that regard. Then another intrusive thought: maybe she'd broken into a new niche? She didn't know quite what that meant, but at least this intrusive thought was somewhat positive.
Then she skimmed through her DMs again. They were being flooded right now. Some people were trying to shame her, which she fully expected after watching the video, but what she didn't expect was that they were the minority. Again, a lot of girls telling her she was "so brave", which felt a little condescending, and then a ton of guys praising her and trying to hit on her and professing absurd and sometimes creepy things. Mixed in with those were some guys offering to buy her more shakes to make up for the lack of sponsorship. Saying they would be happy to help her get more if she really liked them so much. It would be their pleasure. Others in the same vain were offering to buy her all sorts of other foods. She tried to ignore them, but they were very intriguing. One message in particular caught her eye. It was some random guy saying -- seemingly sincerely -- how sorry he was to hear that she had lost her sponsorship, how it must be hard to lose her income in this economy, and offering to buy her doordash if she needed help with a meal: whatever she wanted, his treat. His profile seemed totally normal -- no red flags -- and he was even kind of cute, though maybe a couple years older than what she would normally go for. By all accounts, an upstanding professional respectfully thirsting after a thick girl on the internet. Nothing weird expect the food offer.
She plopped down on the couch and absent-mindedly reached for her belly. It was round now that she was sitting down and so soft. It was also starting to grumble. She did need to eat, she was newly unemployed, she was on a fixed income, and her weeks long binge hadn't been cheap. Maybe she would just sus out if this guy was serious...
"So are you serious?" she replied bluntly.
He shot back almost immediately, "Why wouldn't I be?"
She hesitated with her reply so he sent another, "So are you going to take me up on it?
"Well how are you going to order it? I obviously can't just give you my address."
"How about I just send you a gift card and you get whatever you want."
It seemed to good to be true. She'd never just accepted a gift from a stranger like this before. "What's the catch?"
"What? I just don't want you to go hungry." A quick pause "But I would really appreciate it if you sent me a screenshot of what you ordered and then a pic of the empty bag, so I know you ate it all yourself."
She couldn't think of a reason not to. Something about it seemed a bit off, but a free meal was a free meal and her tummy wasn't going to let it pass. She received the gift card, ordered the meal, and housed it in record time. She sent a pic of all the wrappers to her benefactor and he replied, "Good girl. Now let me see that full belly, piggy." Blocked.
She was ashamed and embarrassed. Piggy? What the fuck was that? What world had she gotten herself into? Was it worth it if she had a free meal and a full belly? Her cheeks were still flushed from the shame, but her belly was telling her it was happy. Happy enough that she was ready to take a nap. it had been a long strange morning and early afternoon. She would figure out her next move when she woke up.
As she slumbered, a few more of those same sorts of DMs trickled in.
She started posting semi-regularly again. Not nearly as much as before; just enough to keep engagement steady. She was no longer a fitness influencer by any means -- the idea would be laughable to anyone still watching, even her deluded self -- but she was finding things to post. Tiktok dances, silly videos, just whatever random stuff she could think of. She even tried towing the body positivity line for a moment, but that wasn't really her jam. The "so brave" comments still urked her. The crazy thing was that the metrics were still good. Not a crazy amount of growth, but an increasingly loyal fanbase. The problem was that it wasn't really the fanbase she would have preferred. Comments demanding that she "show the belly", weird DMs about tying her up and feeding her, and more depraved shit along those lines.
And of course more DMs with very enticing offers which she was losing the willpower to turn down. What's more is that as time went on and her bank account shrank, she became increasingly reliant on those offers. She also became less disciplined with her boundaries. She sent a full belly pic for an extra tip, and after that she just started doing it for anyone. One guy offered to buy her another case of shakes if she sent him a video of her chugging one. She barely hesitated. She was going to chug one anyway, so why not, was now her line of thinking. The next time she didn't require her sponsor to buy her a whole case. It all started to become so normalized to her. She told herself she was in control. She told herself that she would find another mainstream niche for her influencer career. She wasn't some fat model for a kink she didn't understand. She hadn't even got that fat. All these weirdos in her DMs were telling her to get fat, so obviously she wasn't already fat. I mean some were telling her she was fat, but those weren't the ones she was interacting with. What's the harm of another fast food meal if someone else is buying? What's the harm in another shake if it was free?
It was all very clearly self-serving, and she didn't so much as deny it as just intentionally ignore the thought, as she was so good at doing. It had been a couple months since the sponsorship ended, but she was still maintaining her lazy, hedonistic princess lifestyle. Days sitting on the couch, being lazy, and eating. The only real difference was the eating. Before she had been getting fat on the shakes alone and maintaining the venere of discipline in regards to the rest her diet. Now it was unadulterated gluttony. Thanks to her sponsers, the shakes never ceased, but on top of them were now burgers, fries, pizza, pasta, actual milkshakes, chinese take-out, donuts, burritos, cake, et cetra. Everything thing else that she had previously forbidden herself from even tasting, she was now incesently filling herself with on a daily basis. The shakes felt good, but actually food, with all its tastes and flavors and textures, was so much better. Being really truly full of delectable hearty food was unmatched.
She was lost in it. Reveling in the never ending flow of food from all the nice boys on the internet. She could forget about her old sponsorship, because now it was being crowdsourced, and she didn't even have to pretend to go to the gym or watch her weight (she was now intentionally ignoring that). But her new surrogate sponsors weren't quite covering rent. She had made it a lot longer than she thought before she inevitably had to figure out something else, but that time was now visible on the horizon. There was only a couple months left of rent in her bank account.
There was one option that was beginning to crop up in her mind more and more. The dark side of the influencer hustle. The forbidden fruit. Onlyfans. Some of her most loyal sponsors had been suggesting it, and the more regularly she was flashing her fat belly for another burger, the less demeaning it began to seem. People were obviously into something she had going on. These little pervs were always wanting more from her. And her sponsors assured her, there was no need for nudity. It didn't need to be pornographic. Just eat like she usually did. Like she did on her own on a daily basis, but record it or better yet, stream it. Get your food covered and rent.
Her sponsors begged her to do it in her old workout clothes. They promised to tip her generously if she did and swore up and down that the other viewers would eat it up. But it was almost impossible to get on. It was hard enough to get on last time when she was chubby, but months had passed and she had gotten big. She thought for sure the shorts were going to rip even getting them up over her thighs, and she tugged until she was red in the face and panting, but there was no way that "high" waist was even getting past her belly button. It was taking constant adjustment just to keep her gut from flopping over the waistband. The muffin top was inconcealable. The top was almost worse. It just wasn't fitting over her fat tits. They were spilling out of the sides and over the top. The straps were digging into the fat of her sholders and creating unflattering rolls under her armpits. She felt like she could barely move once it was all on. Was this what these pervs really wanted? It was humiliating.
And it only got worse. She had set up her camera rig on the coffee table so she could eat this meal like she did every other: slouched back and sunk into the divet of her couch. But the second she sat down in front of the camera and saw herself in the frame, she almost called it all off. She looked huge. She was so much wider than she realized, her rolls were being sqeezed out of every gap in the fabric, and her face was round and puffy; there was even a double chin. The second she sat down, her fat gut forced itself outward and her waistband immediately retreated underneath her gut which was now spilling out onto her lap. As much as she tried to ignore the fact, she really did know she had gotten fat -- like really fat -- but she had never subjected herself to the sight of herself, let alone the spectacle of making herself even fatter. The final frontier of her degradation. Just this one time, she told herself, just make rent and then we'll turn it around.
The food arrived just in time and she started the stream.
"Hey, you little weirdos. Ask and I'll deliver." She was trying to act natural. Her well-practiced online persona was being put to use to conceal how deeply uncomfortable she actually was. Sending stray belly pics and recording a chug or two was one thing, but this was live. "I got all this food from my lovely sponsors, and now I'm going to eat it all for you . . . tippers get requests. Within reason, of course." As usual, eating helped her feel more comfortable. She tried not to peak at what she looked like there growing increasingly fat and bloated on the couch, but she had to peak up sometimes to respond to comments. They wanted to know her eating habits, how much she gained, and why she gained all that weight. For her part, she had no idea what kinds of answers they were looking for. The truth was she ate massive amounts of junk food all the time and gained all this weight completely by accident and wasn't all that happy about it but also didn't feel able to stop if she was being honest with herself. Was that what they wanted? Should she be honest with them in a way she wasn't being honest with herself? Was she capable of that? What were these freaks into?
Then the tips and corresponding requests started coming in.
"Grab your belly and jiggle it."
"Stand up so we can see how big you are."
"Chug that soda and let us hear you burp."
Red in the face she diligently obeyed each request as they came in, feeling more and more like their pet pig, but getting more and more used to the feeling. She was starting to get full and that was helping. Her belly was approaching its comfort zone, even if her the rest of her was well outside of it. She was getting food drunk and loosening up a bit, even as her constricting clothes got tighter. Unbearably tight, in fact. Something had to give.
"Alright, I can't take this anymore . . . you guys are getting a special treat. I have to get this top off."
It was a struggle, like a real wrestling match, but eventually she was able to free herself and her fat heavy tits came flopping down onto her big round gut. She crossed her arms for a second as she watched the tips flood in with blushing cheeks. She really didn't plan on doing that, but it did feel so much better to be free of that ridiculously tight top. After a moment she worked up the nerve to release and expose her big fat tits to her generous sponsors. There was still a ton of food to eat and she was going to need both hands.
Eventually the feast was completely consumed and packed into her distended fattened belly. Groggily, she stuck around the stream for a bit longer until she could hardly keep her eyes open, then thanked everyone and logged off.
She didn't register how much she made from her degradation until the next morning. It wasn't a full month's rent, but it was more than expected. A couple of those a month, plus the base subscriptions, and she just might make it.
And she did make it. And by making it she was trapped. She made rent each month by being a disgusting fat slob for weird men on the internet. Her gluttony and addiction were no longer impedements to the lifestyle she wanted to lead, but the source of it. There were no more thoughts of "figuring something else out", this was it. She was a collectively owned pet hog for strangers on the internet. Yes, she got everything she wanted, but now there was no way out. She started out concerned about her addiction consuming copious amounts of food while her increasingly fat ass remained glued to the couch, but now she had doubled down and made it so her lifestyle dependent on it. Everytime she dug to the bottom of a loaded bag of double cheeseburgers and fries, she was digging herself deeper into this.
Eating, growing, eating, growing. At what point could she have stopped? It didn't matter.
