He Fell Over

Alex blushed softly as he came to a slow, jiggling stop. The splintered and broken chair, flattened just seconds ago by his monstrous weight, was already a fading memory in the back of his mind. Crashing gut-first into the floor had brought one minor detail to his attention—just how fat he had gotten.

As he had sat there jiggling in the immediate aftermath, he experienced the collected product of his bingeing. First he felt the bottom of his stomach smack against the ground, starting the first ripples. His thighs and butt came next, causing more wobbles to cascade through him. His mobs, for a moment lost in freefall, slapped against the top of his stomach and bounced before coming to rest slightly off the sides. He felt his chins all impact one another, the lowest one vying for space between the bottom of his mouth and the top of his chest. His cheeks slapped into the top of his moobs and his arms into the sides.

For the first time in a while he wasn’t sat on some elevated seat, which had afforded him a comfortable amount of room for his gut to sag out of view. Now it was all on show, and it was huge. His stomach bulged outwards in front of him a few feet in each direction. It forced his legs apart, rolls folding over his thighs, splaying his legs outwards as they had no other space to go. His arms could hardly reach past the furthest point of his moobs and the apex of his belly extended even further. He must’ve weighed in a good four hundred pounds, likely more. Not bad for such a diminutive creature as he.

He mused for a moment on how he had gotten this way. A lifelong lover of food, he found that he ate to comfort sorrow, he ate to reward success, he cooked to temper boredom (and, living alone, ate the results of that too). That had not been a problem though, not until his exercise regiment took a hit. The proceeding months he had stopped walking so much and started using public transport more often. More recently, a mild illness had given him reason to cease walking far at all, the effort being too much for him to handle. Even after he recovered, the increasing feeling to heaviness and lethargy had discouraged walking at all, and he used the extra time afforded to indulge in ever more elaborate cooking plans.

As the jiggling came to a quiet halt he realised that he might not be moving from this patch of floor anytime soon. He blushed softly; reaching up to the tabletop he had just been sitting at and pulling down his still populated dinner plate. One last meal wouldn’t hurt, right?