The sound of the alarm woke up Harper like it did every morning.
And every morning, just like the last, Harper heaved one of her enormous legs over to the side as she tried to roll herself out of bed.
"This... may be getting a little out of hand..."
Harper's enormous gut sagged onto the sheets below her as her mattress squeaked in time with her bedframe's groaning. It wasn't a good thing, she couldn't help but think, that her furniture had all started making these noises around the same time. Harper had held no delusions about her rising weight over the years, but the fact that her furniture seemed to be agreeing with her mother's voice in the back of her head that she was getting too fat wasn't something that she was particularly proud of...
"Oh fuck me..."
Harper adjusted her ocean of titty underneath her sleep shirt. It was tight enough that it hugged her zaftig figure close, even as both breasts sloped off to the side in drastic motions over her sagging tum. She hadn't worn a bra (or really, anything looser than a nightie) to sleep in ages, but her tit hadn't always sloped into the space underneath her arms. Harper had spent her twenties and her thirties porking out, but her thirties had seemingly brought a new level of fat that she hadn't quite thought possible...
"huock"
Harper had never had to make that noise when she was younger, flinging her legs over the side of the bed. But now that she was a certified mommapotamus, Harper supposed that that was normal. One of her legs had to have weighed more than what she had weighed when she was in her twenties, she was sure of it.
"Christ alive, I'm huge..."
Harper's full-length body mirror being placed within eyeshot of her bed had very much been a remnant of her younger, sexier days. But now that she had rolls and folds that hung down into her crotch and tits that sagged over her gut, she didn't like it quite as much. She'd been meaning to move it, but never got around to it.
Besides, it came in handy—this way she didn't have to walk into the bathroom to get dressed. Even if it was just down the hall, the privacy was an added feature that she appreciated at this size.
"It's time for a diet, Harper." she said to herself, aloud, as she cupped either side of her sagging stomach, "You've gotten way too fucking fat for your own good."
Her olive-colored chub bounced, as if nodding in agreement of her statement.
"You're gonna wind up on My 600lb Life if you're not careful..." the fat woman scoffed with a pinch of her belly inches, "Ugh."
Harper's displeasure with her own size was nothing new. It was something that her daughters, her coworkers, even her mother had to deal with day in and day out. She had known that there was a vibrant, skinny woman trapped inside of the hundreds of pounds of jiggly olive-colored chub that kept her imprisoned—she just never had the willpower to do much of anything about it. Continuing to pork out until she was almost four hundred pounds of big-tittied, olive-colored pork...
"After breakfast." she rolled her eyes, "After breakfast, you're on a diet."
Harper tumbled into a bathrobe that was tailor-fit for a hippopotamus and begun her day plodding out into the Black house...
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