Glaztek Assimilation
The box was simple. Sleek. Minimalist. It wasn’t devoid of design completely, but it was certainly simple. Thick, white, textured card embossed simply with the company’s seal—a little wedge-like symbol with a dot in the middle. It was a nice box, she could admit that much.
Slowly, Meredith opened the top via the fabric pull-tab that had been conveniently provided. Inside, nestled within a form-fitting foam shell, a set of blue tinted goggles looked up at her.
She had a moment of pause. She had resisted making this purchase for so long. Technology like this just didn’t interest her, and she’d never even heard of Glaztek until a few years ago. They were the company that invented the solution to world hunger, the news had said. The company was based right here, in the very city in which she worked. The company whose executives now smothered the land outside of city limits with bodies as bloated as their bank balances.
It was also the company that had taken her job; indirectly, at least. A world where the majority of the population wore a consumer headset that could deliver whatever information or entertainment was desired with only a thought made most of the library system woefully redundant. Archives still lived on, but the age of the local branch library had ended with a whimper, murdered by Glaztek. It was this grievance that had driven her animosity for so many years. Even as the company’s influence had spread across the Earth like ripples in a freshly disturbed pond, even as the world she knew underwent seismic shift after seismic shift at their hands, she had held out.
And now, in a moment spurred by resentment, exasperation and weakness, she had caved. She knew they were a bad company, engaged in some ulterior motive to fatten up the world’s populace—it wasn’t as if she hadn’t noticed everyone around her rapidly gaining thousands of pounds, stuffing their faces at every opportunity, transforming into figurative whales in some concerned attempt to emulate the living mountains that cast a longer shadow with each passing day.
But that’s weakness. It was tiring living in Glaztek’s world—surrounded by their machines, their media, their advertising, their entertainment systems, their vending machines, their people movers—and yet having access to none of it. Glaztek owned public transport, grocery stores, housing, entire logistics chains, and probably more still. It was a 24-hour, inescapable, oppressive, all-consuming and constantly encroaching monopolisation of every facet of life. She had fought and she had resisted for so long, but no one was left willing to stop the juggernaut—the swollen paunches of the government ministers spoke for themselves.
So this was it, freedom through slavery. At least she’d never have to worry about going hungry.
Slowly, Meredith removed her glasses from atop her beak and set them down. She lifted the goggles from their box. They felt light and smooth. A single, continuous curve of glass, custom manufactured for her beak size and corrective vision needs, delivered by a Glaztek drone in a shockingly short timeframe. Taking a deep breath, she pressed them to her face.
* * *
It was a nice day out today, so she’d decided to head outdoors and take the travelator down to the Glaztek pizza vendor to pick up a couple of deep dish pies. During the ride there she’d tuned in to Glaztek TV+ on her Glaztek Goggles, finding a fun-sounding comedy programme to entertain her for the few minutes it’d take to get down the street to where the vendor was. She barely registered that she had stopped for several minutes on the way to chug on a drink hose from another machine, nor that she had carried away six times as many pizzas than she had intended to. It didn’t matter anyway, the potent fishy odour would be tempting enough to sneak a few slices for the journey home regardless of how many she’d gotten.
Gradually she waddled her way through the wide doors of her Glaztek-retrofitted apartment building, into the elevator and up to her flat. She had barely collapsed onto her plush, Glaztek branded ultra king size mattress before the smell of the fish and melted cheese was filling her flat with its odour. She licked her beak, and started to shovel slices ravenously into her hungry stomach. Another programme pulled up on her goggles, she punctuated the sounds of gluttony with laughter. It felt good to laugh. It felt like she hadn’t laughed this much for a long time.
The aftermath was glorious. The feeling of eating such a satisfying meal, of complete fullness, of utter contentment. Somehow she never grew tired of it, even now, hundreds of gut-busting meals later, filling herself to the brim seemed to be one of the greatest joys she could muster. She was tempted to grab another slice, to push herself, to make the dopamine rush continue, but there was nothing left to take. A dozen deep dishes, and all she had left was some greasy cardboard boxes.
And a gut. Her gut. Her huge, black and feathery, overflowing out the bottom of her tiny hoodie gut. It was so large and yet still packed full, spreading out to her sides and more than capable of rising above her head if she laid down. Gently she wrapped it in her wings, first scoping out its dimensions before giving it a gentle nudge, moaning softly as it still managed a slight jiggle despite being so full. She shifted her wings to grope at each side of a large roll of fat, wobbling it rhythmically back and forth and making waves across the rest of her body, eliciting a few more happy moans. This might well be the other greatest joy. She was fat. Very fat. A huge, 800-some pound glutton who stuffed her face at every opportunity.
Even her dreams as of late had been dominated by fantasies of getting larger. A ton, three tons, even more still; the fantasies lingering for long after she woke for the first breakfast of the day.
A small chime rang in her head as her goggles projected a holographic advertisement brightly above her: “Congratulations on your three month Glaztek anniversary, have a special gift on us! Recommended for you: Quadruple fish fillet burger with double-supersize fries and NEW Glaztek UltraCal triple chocolate milkshake. [Order now!]”
Instantly forgetting any sense of fullness, Meredith placed the order and reset her wings against her bulging belly, pressing it into a wobble. It’d take at least a couple of minutes for the Glaztek logistics drone to deliver her food, might as well have some fun until then.
