Little Miss Piggie

Big Dreams

After my mother mentioned that I look like someone has been inflating me with a bike pump, I've been having a dream where just that thing happens. They stick the nozzle into my belly button and turn it on. I begin to fill up, stretch out. I blimp up, bloat out. My cheeks and chins merge together and begin to bulge out. My hips and stomach measure 6 feet around. I wonder how long I can go on like this. The evil feeder takes the tube out of my stomach and slaps my tree-trunk sized thighs. He tells me that he's going to take me to get a little something to eat...Or I could keep myself beached on the couch while he speeds out and picks it up. 

I'm getting more and more turned on by the fantasies of me becoming supersized or even ultra sized. I wonder if the fantasy will become reality? I love the doughy feeling of my body know. I'm getting extremely pear-shaped. 

In addition to the inflation dream, there's another dream where I end up on a fat farm. My company decides that I'm too heavy at my almost 400 pounds, so they take up a collection to help send me to a weight loss camp to get healthy! They accidentally sign me up for a fat farm that's goal isn't to help their campers lose weight, but become an inflated version of their former self! I end up at the camp in semi-baggy clothes. Right away, they put me into a stretchy, velvet jumpsuit. They tell me that it will stretch as I grow. They put me into a pod where I'm fed with a feeding tube. I'm given a sedative to help me sleep. I'm given an injection of medication that will slow my metabolism down to zero; every calorie that I consume will be turned to fat. I'm given a calorie-rich drip in addition to the feeding tube. I'm strapped into the pod. The belt around me is lose. It will stretch as I stretch, making sure that I stay safely inside the pod. 

Day after day calorie filed sludge is pumped down to my throat, stretching out my stomach. With my metabolism in the dirt, my thighs began to blow up. The sweatsuit groans a little bit as I slowly and steadily inflate. My arms begin to fill out to the size of pillows. After four weeks, I'm starting to become obscenely fat. After a month and a half, I'm woken up from my food coma to see the effect all the gorging has had on my waistline. I open my eyes, but my cheeks have become so fat, they're almost forcing my eyes shut. I'm going to have to get used to this. My arms have gotten extremely heavy. I can't sit up on my own. I'm being pinned to the bed with my blubber.  I press a button and the bed in the pod pushes me up into a sitting position. My rolls feel swollen and heavy, resting on top of each other. It's going to take some getting used to, but I'm loving how porky I'm looking. 

A nurse walks into the feeding bay when she gets the alert that I'm awake. "How do you think you look?" "I think that I'm looking FLABULOUS!" I stroke a pose, my upper arm and forearm wobble. "What am I weighing in at these days?" "675 pounds. You've put on nearly 300 pounds in your month and a half express feeding session with us." My hands are extremely fat now too. I love that my elbows are now puffy, matching my knees. My ankles are buried under layers of puff now.  "We have a triple-wide, reinforced wheelchair that we will help get you into. We'll get you to the loading area where the handicapped bus will pick you up and drop you off at your former pick up spot.

After about an hour, they manage to get me out of the pod and into the chair. I barely fit in it. I'm almost completely overflowing. My bloated fingers press the joystick forward, taking me to the loading dock. My co-workers are going to be shocked at the state of me. There were hoping that I'd go away to fat camp and lose 100 pounds or so; but what have I done? Put on well over 250 pounds, eating myself up to the size of a two-year-old heifer. The bus stops and the machinery once again groans, taking on the burden of my nearly 700 pounds. I'm wheeled out from behind the van and everyone gasps. I am grotesquely fat. I almost look like a balloon animal. "Thanks for sending me to camp, guys!" "What the hell happened to you? You're enormous!" "Nah, I'm not that big yet." 

And I have a third favourite fantasy that leaves me both horny and hungry...especially hungry. Making a big pig out of myself is so freeing. I love the freedom of eating whatever I want, whenever I want and only feeling good as my body expands. This is the biggest I've ever imagined myself being and I know it's complete and total fantasy. I will never be able to gorge myself up to this kind of tonnage, even though I'm going to try. I would probably have a heart attack before I reach 750 pounds. Long before 700 pounds, but lately this fantasy has been driving me wild. 

I have a bariatric crane by my bed. I love being lifted by it. It's such a turn on that such a heavy-duty piece of equipment is needed to move me. I have a live-in nurse that helps feed me, wash me and administer my medications. I've got medications for my blood sugar, my cholesterol, my blood pressure, SSRIs for my "Compulsive Eating Disorder"-Truth be told that paired with pot they push my appetite into overdrive. I really can't get enough. It's thanks to that lovely combo that I've managed to puff up to 750 pounds. I wonder if I'll have another heart attack if I gain any more weight. It's not like I'm going to be trying to anymore..Just going to let myself relax.  Oh, God, I'm in a blood sugar-free fall. I need something sweet!! 

...

Celebrating reaching the 400-pound mile mark, my closest friends took me to the Heart-Attack Grill. Being 50 pounds over their 50 pounds eat for free weight mark is such a tremendous turn on. "WHO WANTS TO SEE ME PUT ON 100 MORE POUNDS!!" I raise my arms, sending ripples of motion through my fat. I know they think that I'm crazy to be thinking about gaining all that weight. One would think I'd consider stopping now that my 4X tops are starting to feel restrictive. My friends surprised me with two pairs of extremely stretchy pants. "We. figured that you were going to need some new clothes soon, especially after what you put away tonight!" I pat my middle. "God, that was delicious." They look like maternity pants kinda. I can't wait to see how I look in them. 

Once again my mother had to comment on my weight. Actually, it was that and she critiqued my outfit as well. She happened to run into me at the grocery store one afternoon. Right away she started in on what was in my cart. "Ice-cream? Snickers? Cheese puffs? Double stuffed pizzas? Do you want to be diabetic?" "I don't really think about it. If it happens, it happens. They have a pill for everything nowadays." I push past her and toss a couple of boxes of cereal into the cart. By the time I reach the check-out, the cart is groaning under the weight of the groceries. The teenager ringing doesn't know what to say when she see's me. "Weigh-Welcome to Save A Lot! I huug-hope that you found everything you were looking for!" "And everything I was lusting for." I wink at her. 

She helps me load the groceries into two carts. "I'm so glad I have a saver card and all those coupons!" They're starting to get to know me here and it's nice. I've met a lovely feeder who's into gaining herself. She's about half my size and looking to put on a few pounds. Sharing the aspect of weight gain with someone is truly special. Being fed by someone who understands the joys of food...Sometimes she and I come in here and leave with an obscene amount of food. Just think, one day, I might need to rent a scooter to get around the store.

I'm hoping to be 420 or so by the time that we head to the beach. I'm going to have to get a new bikini for the occasion. There's no way that I'm going to be able to fit into last years. I can only imagine the comments that are going to be made about me as I make my way onto the beach. "Better hide the coolers!" "Snack bar's closed, honey!" "Hey, I didn't think we'd see Shamu here today!"