Kallie Tell
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You're too Far Gone
🕑 Added 2024-11-14 05:26:01 +0000 UTCDo you ever think about it? How you’ve completely ruined yourself, completely ruined your entire body because of your sick fantasies? And I mean actually think about, not just when you're stuffing yourself with more fattening calories or when you're getting off on how huge you’ve made yourself.
Do you ever think about the consequences? The fact that you let your fetish take over your life, that your insatiable desire for more food, more fat, and more pleasure has transformed you from a thin, responsible member of society to a sloppy pig who can't think of anything else besides their next meal? You used to have hobbies, interests. You used to be a well-rounded person who had a full life. Now the only thing that's full is that constantly bloated gut of yours.
How could you let this take you over like this? How could you do this to yourself? I know all that blubber is so hot when you gorge yourself, that during your now-daily stuffings all you can think about is how you want more, but I also know you have those moments of regret afterward. When you’ve packed yourself so full that it hurts. So full that your skin is itching as new stretch marks work their way across your near-splitting midsection, that you can’t even roll over and heave yourself to a standing position. When you’re trapped, flat on your back with your belly towering over you like a bloated beach ball. When you can't distract yourself by forcing down any more food. When you’re so full and fat that you can hardly breathe, can hardly focus on anything except the throbbing pain in your overtaxed middle. That’s when you have your moments of realization, isn't it? When you think about what you’ve turned yourself into, the permanent weight you piled on your once small frame.
The first few pounds were nothing, not even notable, but the fatter you got, the further you went. You let your feeding kink corrupt your mind. It's so pathetic, it's so embarrassing that you were too horny to stop yourself from gorging into obesity. Nobody knows you're getting off on this. Everyone in your life just thinks you’re a greedy pig with no self-control. Everyone thinks that you let this happen to you by accident, and they're partially right, aren't they?
You never meant for this to go this far. You never meant for your body to become a walking testament to just how addictive your little kink is. All that blubber forever marks you as a weak, helpless little slut without the willpower to keep their fetish in the bedroom. It just broadcasts how much your feeders are in control of you, how the praise from random strangers on the internet is enough to make you destroy your health. It's like your bloated, wobbling rolls are a fatty collar, forever marking your fat swollen body as someone else's property.
And that's all you are, aren't you? Your appetite does not belong to you, your health doesn’t belong to you, instead it belongs to your all-consuming desire to pile on more weight. And that scares you. You're scared of how quickly this all devolved, how quickly you were bursting your buttons and struggling to fasten your jeans. How quickly you reached terrifying new milestones like losing sight of your toes and cracking your bed frame.
You're scared of how you can't stop, how most of the time you don't even want to. I know waddling around in that body every day is humiliating for you. I know you get red and hot when you feel everyone's eyes on you, when you feel them judging your wobbling flab fighting to be free from your too-tight clothes.
You know your friends and family can't stop talking about it, right? Can't stop talking about how it's possible to put on all that extra weight so fast, how worried they are about you. And it's not like you haven't given them good reason to worry. You can't even control yourself enough to only stuff when you're alone, so when they see the amount you’ve eaten, when they see the way you take bite after bite until you're panting and your rounded gut has pinned you to the chair, they wonder what could have possibly gotten into you. You know it was in you this whole time, that your greed and gluttony were only lying dormant until you gave yourself permission to indulge a bit, but you can’t even explain yourself. You can't tell them how much it works you up to wake up fatter and fatter every day, so you just keep growing.
They're probably planning to confront you. A makeshift intervention about how much your spiral into morbid obesity has affected them. They're probably going to talk about how tight the dining room chairs have gotten around your swollen hips. They're probably gonna bring up the time you ate so much you had to stay in the restaurant for half an hour before you digested enough to move. They're probably going to bring up the fact that you can't go for a 5-minute car ride without stopping at a drive-through.
They're gonna claim it's about you, about your health, but in reality, you just disgust them. They don't like looking at your cellulite-pocked, dimpled rolls of fat pushing out of your ill-fitting clothes. They don't want to watch you fill your stomach until you’re burping, moaning, and gasping from how far you pushed yourself past your limit. They hate how a family-sized meal can just disappear down your gullet without them ever getting a bite. Your greed and piggish body are why they want you to stop, not your health.
But you can't stop, can you? No matter the reason, no matter the motivation, you couldn't force yourself to stop if you wanted to. You couldn't stop after popping those buttons in public, you couldn't stop after getting so fat you started to strain your seatbelt, you couldn't even stop after destroying your desk chair. You're so ashamed of your inability to put an end to all this and the shame just makes you eat more, just makes you bury your emotions in a greasy feast that’ll do even more damage….
Do you ever just sit in the mirror and look at yourself? Look at the way your belly pushes into your lap, at the way the softening fat all over your sides pudges out into fatty love handles. You’re so enormous now, every part of you looks like a fattened caricature of the person you used to be. You look absolutely ridiculous. Do you play with all that fat in the mirror? Do you push and prod and poke your mass, wondering how it's even possible for you to get this big this fast? Are you embarrassed when you do? Mortified at knowing that your perfectly trim body was destroyed by your own oversized appetite? That you ruined yourself in pursuit of the kind of body that always used to get you off?
You're bigger than all your favorite gainers now. You used to watch them and wish you could know what it felt like to be that size, and now you've blown right past it. You're fatter than people who are paid to get fat for a living, how pathetic is that? You’ve done all of this to yourself and it can never be undone. You did this. On your own. You couldn't gain just a couple, couldn't stop yourself from becoming obsessed with porking up like this. And you are obsessed.
Even in the rare moments when your body isn't making you painfully horny, your obsession doesn't allow you to think about anything else. You still have to contemplate how much of a whale you’ve become with every waddle, with every heavy breath. You don't get to avoid it. That's the worst part, isn't it? That you can't go even a moment without thinking about what you’ve done to yourself, without feeling the literal weight of your choices all over your body. There's nothing you can do to avoid it, nothing you can do to distract yourself.
All you are is a slave to your feeding kink. All you are is a sentient pile of blubber obsessed with their next meal. You couldn't stop if you wanted to. You know that. You can never go back to normal, never go back to the kind of body that doesn't inspire disgust from regular people. You’ll never have your normal-sized appetite back, you’ll always be a greedy glutton who needs enough food for 4 just to feel satisfied. You're too far gone at this point. Even if you tried to diet and exercise you know you’d immediately give in, that you’d be stuffing yourself against that very same night. You’ve completely ruined yourself. It’s like you dedicated your life to being a fat fucking pig.
Do you look in the mirror and feel your heart sink? Feel real panic at the realization that you don’t even recognize yourself? You’ve gotten so fat that your entire face has changed. Your neck disappeared into a wobbling third chin, your chubby cheeks have inflated with so much fat that they’re squeezing your eyes into slits, I know you can’t believe you let things get this bad.
How does it make you feel? To know that you’ve given up your own bodily autonomy to let the opinions and influence of strangers make you force-feed yourself just to get off? To know that you can't participate in regular activities anymore, that you can't touch your toes or go for a jog, that so much as waddling your wobbling blubber across your living room makes you breathe heavily. How does it feel to have to live with the knowledge that this was all your fault? That you’ll never recover?
You’ll never be able to lose this much weight. Just imagine your blubber jiggling around while you tried to exercise. You wouldn't last two minutes. You’d just waddle on a treadmill that was groaning under your weight until you were huffing so loudly you couldn't even hear your belly hang slapping against your thighs, then you’d give up and order more junk to cram down your throat.
You’ll never again experience a moment without a reminder of exactly how much of a pig you are. You’ll never escape the fact that what you’ve done is irreversible, that no matter how much you try, you'll be fat for the rest of your life. It turns you on, doesn't it? To be told off for what you're doing to yourself? It just makes you want to eat even more.
It's too late, the damage has been done. You might as well gorge yourself just like you want. You might as well get fatter and fatter, you might as well completely lose yourself in your desire to pile more blubber on that quivering, ballooning gut. You’re already too far gone.
