"Susan, it is disappointing that you would do this to me. I don't like being made a fool of. I don't like people tricking me, or people who make me believe that they are something they are not. I really hate this feeling of being lied to, and I think you should apologize."
"Patrick, I got fat. I had two children. I stopped playing sports. I am a housewife and got used to staying indoors. I didn't want to get fat. But it happened."
"That is not an apology. I am having a hard time looking at you. Your face is so thick. You have no definition. And your arms are flabby. You have the gut of a drinker. And your boobs are enormous. I would hate to be your bra."
"Well, you don't have to. And I think this is where I say goodbye. What you are saying is really, really inappropriate and I don't want to hear it anymore." Susan turned to leave the dressing room lobby. Patrick stepped in her way.
"Don't lecture me, piggy. This is not an equal conversation. This is me, finding out my ex-girlfriend is a fatty. I am the one who is wronged and you are the one who is going to be punished."
"Punished? Patrick, let me through." Patrick pressed his pointer finger into Susan's belly, through a button gap.
"No Susie. You aren't getting through. I'm not done being hurt. And you aren't done with your apology. You are going to dress up like the pig you are. If you want so badly to be a fatty, why don't you dress like one? Why don't you act like one? Come on. Give me the full picture. If you are going to be a fatty, be a good fatty. Do it right." Patrick poked his finger again into Susan's belly. "You're a chunky monkey." With both hands he held the bottom of Susan's belly. "Wow. Really impressive. This did not happen overnight. You worked for this. This is hundreds of donuts. Isn't it? Come on Susan." Patrick's hands slid up Susan's love handles and side fat. "Here is another couple of hundred donuts. Maybe some cheesesteaks. Or cheese...cakes? I think both." He slid his two pinkies into the back of Susan's waistband. "Susan, you are a big fat girl now. Not the skinny cheerleader I used to know. You are a fatty and I think you should be held accountable."
Susan's defenses began to shrink. She started to pout. Her adult face fell away and her helpless side emerged. "Patrick...I don't want to be a fatty."
"Oh yes you do. You are one. And you clearly love the lifestyle. It's brought you this far. Were you looking for new clothes because the ones you have don't fit? Is it because your belly is poking out right now and your boobs are too large? I think so."
Susan continued to melt. She felt her insides jiggle with anticipation and fear. She knew Patrick was creative and cruel, and it seemed like he had became more so with age. "Patrick, let's not do anything. Let me go. I'm sorry for getting fat. I shouldn't have done it. I should have respected our relationship. We had a bond. I know you have high standards and I wasn't able to maintain it. I let myself go over the years and you clearly have kept in shape. I'm sorry."
"I know you are sorry. But the facts remain. You got fat and now you need to own up to it. You can't even keep your breasts in your bra. I see them poking out the sides. Your bra is showing through your blouse. Was the fabric always this thin, or did you stretch it? I think you are used to stretching clothing, ruining fabrics and patterns. Is that why you are in all solid colors? Too afraid to stretch a flower across these boobs? You might make the pedals break apart."
"Please, please Patrick. I'm fat. I'm overweight. I'm hopeless. Don't make me do anything. Let's end this now. You caught me and I'm ashamed."
"Good. You should be." Patrick grabbed Susan's belly rolls and shook them. "Big belly Susan! Oh yes. You can't fit into anything. You can't fit into anything. Too big! Too many donuts. Too big! Too big!"
"No, no no." Susan began to whimper, her hips swaying slowly, her brain mimicking the submission of the fat girls she had witnessed many times before. "My belly is too big...my ass is too big..my boobs are too big..." Patrick smiled and nodded.
"Yes, yes, go on..."
"And I can't control my eating. I used to be able to but now I am helpless. I think about food all day and I snack between meals. I can't stop gaining and my body absorbs every pound. I have become the girls we used to tease. I am a housewife now, fattened and lazy. I don't go to the gym. I have never counted a calorie. All it took was one child birth, one holiday season, one dress size, and from that point on, I gained and gained. I felt myself getting fat but didn't do anything about it. I felt, even as I sat idly in my computer chair, the feeling of getting fatter. I could feel my stomach rubbing the tight elastic in my waistband, and I knew my stomach was getting bigger, rather than the waistband getting smaller. I felt fatter as I sunk deeper into the couch cushion. But I didn't do anything about it. I watched days pass and food pass into my mouth."
"Why did you do it Susan?"
"I did it because I love food too much. I can't stop myself. I have no free will in front of food. If I see food, I have to eat it until it's all gone. Only then will I look up and realize what I did, what I ate, or how much. During the eating process, I am too transformed to focus. I am too engrossed in the moment. I feel as if I become one large mouth whose only job is to open, close, and chew."
"You take big mouthfuls, don't you?"
"I do. I catch myself gasping for air between mouthfuls because I have been continuously eating. I eat with two hands, a utensil in each." Patrick smiled and gave Susan's stomach a playful slap.
"It has all paid off. Every bite."
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author