RiverSongRegenerated

What's in this: A very very fat woman lets herself be a Halloween decoration to scare kids with what too much candy does to a person. I love Halloween. There are lots of reasons, but one of my favorites is unwrapping candy. The delicate dance of fingertips tracing to find the seam, spiraling the tight wound plastic around or tearing at serrated edges. Despite how round and fat they are, my fingers are expertly swift and delicate at the art of unwrapping. That would explain why while I am set up the way I am, there are constantly dozens of tiny wrappers piling around me. Carol doesn’t clean them up. THey add to the experience. Carol loves Halloween, too. She likes it for the normal reasons- scary things, over the top theatrics, decorating her home, and dressing like a skank. All tons of fun for her- especially how she gets to show off her favorite prop: me. “Go ahead, take a handful- or even two. I love making sure people get their fill.” That’s the sort of thing she says to a kid

(What’s in this: BBW, XWG, Possession, Morbidity, Death Feedism. A woman gets possessed by the ghost of a feedee) You can hardly remember now why you performed the seance to begin with. Frankly, there's hardly room in your head for thoughts with how far gone you are, and when you can spare a pittance of mental effort to think, let alone about that night, the only thought is of regret. She can fill in the details for you, her voice that isn’t from lips which aren’t remind you of the life you’ve shared.. Don't worry You'd heard rumors about the woman who'd previously owned this home you are now bound in. A woman who'd been so gluttonous and lazy she'd become bed bound and died in your home. What a tragedy. But also, an interesting little novelty, so when your witchy friend was looking for a place to host her seance party, you figured this new place was as good as any. Might be interesting to hear the voice of such a strange woman, victim of her own greed. And in that decision, you

I felt my body cascading over the bed, my breath quickens, both from the weight pushing down on my chest and the ultimatum my feeder just gave me. Sign away all of my belongings and assets to them or they'll stop feeding me. Trapped within the ever-expanding blob of fat, I felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness. From my complete lack of independence and from my raging stomach begging me to sign. My body had become an unrecognizable mass, a prison of my own making. With trembling hands that were almost engulfed by layers of flesh, I struggled to sign away my worldly possessions to my feeder. I had asked for this, begged for it. "Make me bigger", "Feed me more", "Ruin me". They did everything I asked and I loved it. But now, I was paying for my lust. I used my last ounce of dexterity to grasp the pen. An everyday task for someone with a normal life but for someone like me, an unrecognizable blob, it was a herculean task. The pen felt heavy, not just in a physical sense but also in