My Angel

Part 4

"How good you've been," my angel praises me as it nuzzles into my rapidly vanishing neck. It runs a hand over my overfull belly. "Letting yourself indulge so proudly."

I hum and quiver with pleasure at its touch, ignoring the other patrons in the restaurant as they stare. My belly is already laced with red marks, the pitiful attempts of my belt to hold me back. But still, my stomach rumbles, greedy for more.

"W-would you like to see a dessert menu?" the young server asks, voice trembling. The poor thing has had to watch me demolish everything on the menu, my belly surging outward with each platter. He must be terrified. He's never seen someone enjoy themselves so thoroughly, so shamelessly. Indeed, the entire restaurant is openly staring at me with bated breath. I'm sure half of them expect me to explode at any moment.

"You know what you want," my angel says, running its hands over my hefty chest. "Show these people how it looks to enjoy yourself to the fullest."

I lick my lips. "Don't bother with the menu," I tell the server. "Just bring me one of everything."

The server's eyes widen. "A-are you sure?" He looks at my weakening belt, straining and squeaking to hold back my huge, sloshing gut.

I put a hand on it proudly. "You heard me."

The server scurries away. I lean back in my chair, legs spread wide to give my ample belly room to grow. As they set plate after plate before me, my mouth waters greedily. A thick slice of sinfully rich chocolate mousse cake topped with toasted nuts... beautifully ripe strawberries perched atop a white and fluffy angel food cake... a golden river of caramel lapping down the slopes of a decadent three flavoured ice cream sundae...

I pick up a glittering silver fork, eyes dancing with delight over the abundance before me. I take each bite slowly, savouring each flavour as it explodes over my tongue. I feel my eyes glaze over as I allow myself to be completely engulfed by the sensations. The feeling is like no other. Warm and blissful, like a drug coursing through my veins.

"Give in completely," my angel whispers, gently massaging my belly to open more room. "Embrace this raw pleasure."

I eat more and more, faster and faster, my body growing hotter and hotter until I am on fire—a raging inferno of need and desire for more and more pleasure. My pants groan against my fattening frame, my belt creaking under the pressure. I moan with delight, lapping up cake and frosting with abandon. I'm consumed by the ecstasy of sweetness, lost in a frenzy of pleasure, my body shaking with the force of it all.

My belt, cracking at the edges, tries to pull me back. It carves red welts into my soft flesh, but the pain only heightens my sweet pleasure. The belt stretches and groans, tighter and tighter. My breath comes in short gasps.

Tighter.

Tighter.

Tighter.

Just as I think I can take it no longer—

BANG!

The restaurant patrons gasp as my belt snaps under the tidal wave of fat. The buckle flies across the room, letting my belly pour forth unencumbered, demolishing my pants button with barely a ping of protest. I let out a groan as the cool air hits my exposed flesh, sighing in satisfaction.

"How do you feel?" my angel purrs, kneading my soft fat.

"Huff...huff... I feel like... I have room for more."

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As my vacation days come to an end, reality begins to seep back in. I dread returning to work. What will they say when they see that I have clearly been nowhere near a gym, that a salad has not touched my lips for these last two glorious weeks?

I sit on the edge of my bed, mattress groaning under my bulk, trying on my old work clothes a day early. My body is heavy and sluggish, lethargic from endless overindulgence, as I desperately try to pull the old pants up my massive thighs. My flesh spills out over the waistband, thick juicy rolls, stubbornly refusing to be contained.

I give up and flop back on the bed with an exhausted wheeze.

"What are you doing, sweet human?" my angel asks, appearing over me, running their hands up my sensitive sides.

I shiver deliciously. "My work clothes don't fit anymore," I huff. Waves wobble up the left side of my body as I weakly waggle one trapped leg. "I need to get my laptop and order some more."

I manoeuvre one fat-swaddled arm underneath myself and heave. All I manage is to send my flab sloshing in the opposite direction, pulling me sideways instead of upright. I wiggle my legs, trying to roll myself in the right direction, but only managing to get myself out of breath. The angel giggles at my helplessness, pushing me gently back down as I huff and puff. "No need to move, dear human. I will fetch the internet rectangle for you." They plant a kiss on my round, red cheek before flitting out of the room.

I kick off my outgrown pants and lay spread-eagled on the bedspread, gut heaving as I try to catch my breath. I look over the soft, expansive belly that dominates my eyeline, too large, too majestic to hide under any waistband. My hands caress the marshmallowy curve of my ass, fingers pressing into the soft plush of rolls where my hips should be, palms turning to cup my meaty breasts, marvelling at the weight of my own accomplishments.

The angel returns with the laptop. Their arms are strong and comfortingly solid, as they help me to a sitting position, leaning me back against a mass of pillows. I'm out of breath again by the time I am upright. "I should get a few sizes up this time," I puff. "Just to give me some growing room."

The angel cups my wobbling stack of chins. "Speaking of growing..."

My belly rumbles and I smile in agreement, settling back against the soft pillows as the angel materialises a glorious new feast around me.

✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

My chubby fingers struggle with the buttons on my new shirt. It's large enough to be a tent, but the fabric strains over my curves, indecently showing off every shifting roll.
I open wide for another bite of sweet, syrupy waffle from my angel's golden hands.

"Do you have to go so soon?" my angel asks, running its hands over my belly, already bulging over my new waistband. "You've barely eaten half your breakfast."

"It's my first day back," I say, flushing at their touch. "I don't want to be late."

But my belly growls in disagreement. It has grown too used to constant stuffing and won't tolerate leaving the house until it is full to the brim. I glance at the clock. "I guess I have time for a little more..."

My angel smiles, lifting me gently back onto the bed, already pressing another bite into my ready mouth. I swallow gratefully, savouring the sweet whipped cream and tart strawberries. It's so good, so mouth-watering. I can't keep myself away.

I fall back against the warm bed covers, opening over and over. The buttons on my shirt strain pitifully, pop, pop, popping one by one as my belly swells into its rightful round, ripe shape. But still, I want more... I want more...

My hand fumbles to my nightstand, punching in numbers on the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Anderson?" I mumble through another bite. "I don't think I'll be able to come back in today. .... Yes, I'm—mmmmmmm.... I'm calling in sick."

✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

I stand in front of Mr. Anderson's desk, wheezing from the effort of shuffling into his office.

"Work from home?" he asks.

"Yes," I huff. I lick my lips, tasting the sweet decadence of this morning's stuffing. "I don't think this office is good for my health."

"Your..." His eyes flick over the full breadth of my body, at the thick strip of pulpy flesh hanging out under my straining shirt, at the waistband that is positively groaning from the effort of holding me back. "Your health?"

The horrified look in his eyes would have once had me shaking with shame, desperate to cover up. But now I smile, confident in my new, flabby form. "Yes. Here is the paperwork for the change—"

I lean forward to hand him the stack of forms. But as my gravity shifts, my belly sloshes forward. The unstoppable wave of momentum destroys my pants button, sending my mountain of flesh pouring out, covering Mr. Anderson's desk.

Eyes bulging in surprise, Mr. Anderson falls back in his chair, fingers fumbling for a pen. "N-no problem! I'll sign it right now!"

I lay a proud hand on my oversized belly, soft and warm and still jiggling from the movement. I am finally big. Too big to be argued with.

✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Working is so much easier when I can do it in bed, laptop nestled on my ever-widening shelf of a belly, snacking continuously without judgement. I reach the end of my inbox and toss the laptop aside. Brushing the crumbs off my jiggling chest, I shift into a languid stretch, arms reaching over my head, toes curling, mouth opening wide in a yawn.

A hot, greasy burger presses against my lips, and my belly rumbles with gratitude.
"Done with work already?" my angel coos, already unwrapping another burger as I ravenously consume the first. "That deserves an early lunch."

The angel feeds me, burger after burger, fistfuls of fries, pints of sweet, thick malted milkshake. I moan happily, in love with the feeling of stuffing so much junk into an already overfull belly. I open my mouth again and again for more, more, more—

DING! Another email appears in my inbox.

I swallow my bite, groaning, "What now?" I heave forward, reaching for the laptop, but my hands fall short. I grunt and stretch, but my bloated belly is blocking my way, too taut and swollen to reach around. Still, it rumbles, unready to stop its glorious binge for more dreary work.

A gentle golden hand presses me back into my seat, folding my fat fingers around another burger. "Allow me, dear human." My angel snaps their fingers. The email is opened, a response given and sent off before I can blink.

"But... huff... huff... I'm supposed to do it."

"I'm sorry," my angel says, seeming genuinely concerned. "Do you enjoy this activity?"

"No," I admitted, reaching for another handful of fries. "But... it's work. I have to work."

"If you prefer, I can handle trivial things like 'work' —" With another snap, the laptop springs to life, responding to emails and generating spreadsheets with a mind of its own. "While you focus only on what brings you joy." My angel unwraps a chocolate frosted cupcake, pressing it into my waiting mouth.

I lap the icing off my cheeks, considering. No daily grind of a nine-to-five job... Only an endless buffet of delicacies... Nothing to stop my endless eating... Nothing to stop my endless growing...

I sigh, happily nuzzling my cheek against my angel's outstretched palm. "Sounds great.

✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Ma won't speak to me anymore. Not since I became bedbound. Honestly, it's probably for the best.

"And you're happy like this?" Dad asks again, giving my belly a hesitant rub.

He's right to ask. I've become a mountain, a landscape of flesh and fat, rolling out in every direction, spilling over my bed and settling on the floor. Every breath is a wheeze. Even lifting my arms has become too great an effort. But...

My face, that mound of doughy rolls, shifts and spreads as I smile. "Happier... than I've... ever been."

He nods, his gaunt lips pulling in a smile. "Then I'm happy for you."

As he turns to leave, I see a flash of gold wings over his head. Not my angel. His.
"Dad," I huff. He turns back around. I smile through my wheezing breaths. "You could be great too."

His eyes widen, and I know I've hit home. He's heard the whispers in his dreams. He feels the endless hunger. He looks away, but his eyes are softer now, rimmed with gold. "I'll think about it." He pats my massive breast. "Enjoy your meal."

"I will," I say as my angel appears through the wall, arms loaded down with another endless feast. "Oh... I will."