My Angel

Part 2

RRRIIIIIIP!

I gasp as my work shirt splits right up the seams. Face burning, I rip it off and hunt for another. I find one and tug it over my head, sucking in my growing stomach. The buttons are straining, but at least I can breathe without ripping the fabric to shreds.

I bite my lip, looking at myself in the bedroom mirror. Last week this shirt was big enough to swallow me, but now it clings to my rolls like a wetsuit. "Maybe it's time to see a professional about these dreams..." I murmur, running a hand along my burgeoning curves.

"You wish to be rid of me?"

I scream, stumbling backwards. My angel is in the mirror, right in front of me. Its strong, golden arms reach out, gently caressing my bulging waistline. "But I've done you so much good."

"N-no!" I say, running frantic hands through my hair. "This is crazy. You're not real!"

Sweet, bubbling laughter echoes around the room. "You humans are so strange," it says. "You do not believe what you see with your own eyes." It rubs my rumbling belly. "You do not obey your own simple nature."

I cover my belly with shaking hands. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"I didn't want you to throw away your precious gift." Golden fingers brush my cheek. "I see your struggles. I see how you try to bury your beautiful senses: your taste, your smell, your very physicality." Sadness fills the angel's voice, the deep sadness of centuries. "So many of you humans forbid yourselves from eating, shame yourselves for melting into softness, holding back the body that is your gift."

"So humans are just meant to be fat-asses?" I say, hackles rising. "Is that what you're saying?"

"Mmm, perhaps not all..." A wave of its hand and the room fills with heavenly smells as every surface erupts in piles of bacon, chocolate, fresh bread... My belly rumbles ravenously.

The angel smiles. "But you were."

My stomach growls. I forget my arguments. I want it. I want it all so badly.

"You were made for this. Made to be large. Made to eat." Golden hands lift a slice of pillowy bread, dripping with warm, melted butter. "So eat, my dear human. Embrace your nature."

The bread smells so good. It makes my head spin. I hesitantly part my lips. Just a bite...

"Let yourself indulge..." the angel whispers as I take a bite. "Let yourself grow..."

The angel's words shake me. I suddenly see myself at the end of this path. A huge, undulating blob of fat, ruled by a stomach that only wants more and more... My heart beats fast, and just for a second... I want it.

I shudder and pull away, grabbing my coat and running for the door.

"Wait!" the angel cries.

But I don't listen.

This ends now.

✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Come on, you can do it!" my new personal trainer shouts over the ambient grunting and sweating of the gym. "Just ten more! Push! Push!"

Sweat pours down my forehead, pooling under my back. My abs—if I can call them that while they're buried in flab—burn and tremble with effort as I pull myself up into another half-hearted sit-up. My belly is shoving into my lungs, restricting my breath. All this, and I'm not even halfway up.

With a gasp, I collapse back to the mat, sweating and shaking. "I can't. I think I'm too big for sit-ups."

"Don't be so down on yourself," my trainer says. "It's just a bit of extra fluff. I've seen people twice your size do sit-ups like champs."

I slump forward, my shoulders hunched, trying to hide as much of myself as possible. Surrounded by so many lean, athletic bodies, I feel even more fat and useless. Look at them run and lift while I can't even walk without bouncing and jiggling all over the place.

"Come on now, you can do it!" my trainer says, taking hold of my feet again. "Back into position."

My trainer is nice. I don't want to disappoint him. So I tuck my arms behind my head again.

My trainer counts off as I heave myself upward. "One... two... come on... three..."

The smell of garlic and cheese wafts up from the pizza place downstairs. My lips part with desire, my head spinning, my belly rumbling...

"Ignore it," my trainer says. "You're stronger than your stomach. Say it back, like we practised."

I grunt, straining past my chubby knees. "I'm stronger than my stomach."

"Your body is a temple."

"My body is a temple."

"You worship and honour your deepest desires."

"I — what?"

To my horror, golden hands reach out to cradle my achy, trembling sides. The angel appears above me, its shimmering form passing right through the trainer. The golden glow looks warm, but the angel's hands are cool and comforting against my sweating skin. "You embrace your expanding body," it murmurs, "And give in to the luxuries you deserve."

I jump up, face flushed.

"Wait, our session isn't over yet!" the trainer says as I grab my bag and barrel toward the locker rooms.

Thankfully, the showers are empty. Turning my back to the mirrors, I strip off my sweaty clothes and step in. I wrap my arms around myself as the hot water envelops me.

The angel takes shape in the surrounding mist, its golden light reflecting each water droplet. "Why do you do this to yourself, little human? Why do you listen to someone who is trying to change and distort your true self?"

"Because... because..." I try to find words to explain the obvious. That this body is wrong, shameful, that it should be hidden away or gotten rid of. "Because otherwise, I'd get fat!"

Pathetic. I'm pathetic. Frightened of a foregone conclusion. I am already fat. No longer chubby or plump, but properly fat. I can barely see the tips of my toes past my big, quivering belly. I hug myself, shaking fingers pressing into my marshmallowy chest.

Gentle arms wrap around me and the angel draws me close. "You are afraid? Afraid others will see the evidence of your decadence? Your love for your own body and senses?" Its hand traces down over my naked body, lingering lovingly over my rolling softness, my delicate underbelly, my new stretch marks... My skin sings under its touch.

I shiver, laying my head on the angel's strong shoulder. As I close my eyes, I can smell the rich aroma of all the delicious things around me. The pizza downstairs, the coffee shop at the front, even the candy bars in the vending machine. It's all so wonderful, so overwhelming...

"Try one night," the angel says, gently cupping my double chin. "One night to give in to your desires, fully and completely. After that, if you still do not want me..." The angel wipes away a spot of drool at the corner of my mouth. "Then I will leave and beg you no longer."

✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The angel lays me back on my bed. "Just enjoy this moment," it says, peeling another piece of candy out of its wrapper. "Listen to your own desires."

I blush and move deeper into the soft cushion of the covers, opening like a baby bird for another bite. It feels so strange, so rebellious to let myself be so thoroughly pampered. But I can't deny, it also feels wonderful. As the angel presses more food between my lips—ruby strawberries dipped in rich dark chocolate, creamy pasta that warms me from the inside out, hearty chicken pot pie with a flakey, buttery crust—I let myself fall into a state of relaxation I've never felt before. My belly swells under my shirt, round and full, but for once I'm not thinking about it. All I want is...

"More?" The angel tilts its head, tracing my soft jawline.

My round cheeks are sticky with sauce and chocolate, my double chin dripping with grease. My stomach strains at the waistband of my pants, the seams groaning from the effort. But still, my belly rumbles, not from hunger, but from pure greed. I nod, opening my mouth.

The angel tips a bottle of soda to my lips. I drink, drink, drink, but the bottom comes no closer. My eyelids flutter, heart pounding. The bubbles tingle as I swallow, floating all the way down. My belly swells, bigger and bigger, the tiny pop, pop, pop of threads signalling the final demise of my pyjamas. I moan as I guzzle down more and more, unashamedly aroused as I feel my seams unravel around me. The angel is right. I could be big. I could be great.

Just as it feels like I'm about to burst, the angel finally pulls back the bottle. "No more, little one. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
I whimper dimly, fighting off the pangs of fullness, the darkness of sleep.

The angel slips underneath me. Though it seems to take up no more room than a flicker of light, its form is solid under my back, its hands warm and comforting as they slip under my thick arms and cradle my bulging belly. Its fingers massage my exposed flesh, working loose that tight, uncomfortable feeling till I'm almost purring with pleasure. I don't want this night to ever end. I don't want to touch another salad for as long as I live. "Please..." I murmur, drifting deeper towards sleep. "Please don't leave me..."

A soft kiss brushes my cheek. "Never, my love."

__________________________________ _

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