Kinktober Day 14: Can't Get Up

I think this is the first story I've written with an enby protagonist? Definitely the first I've posted, at least.

***

They were sure they could stand up. Absolutely positive. They had done this hundreds of times, from this exact couch. It is a simple enough thing, standing up. Just have to get your legs underneath you.

Somehow, Mal found that easier said than done. They tried to think about the mechanics of it. It had become increasingly difficult for them to stand up over the years, sure, but they still had not thought much about how it worked, exactly. It was like having to think about breathing or blinking. As soon as you thought about it, it seemed a lot harder than it was.

They could hear her in the kitchen and smelled the crackling noise of something deep-frying. Mal was so full, but what did that even mean, anyway? “Full” was their default state. They hadn’t had an empty stomach in years. Hunger was a foggy, foreign concept. She would feed them regardless.

Mal had wanted this. For years, they had fantasized about having a pretty girl feed them until they were massive. Their fantasy size had varied. Sometimes, they were skirting somewhere between chubby and fat. Big enough that everyone would notice, but not huge. Other times (okay… most of the time) they fantasized about being big enough that their belly could be some girl’s mattress. In their wildest imaginings, they kept getting bigger even after that.

When they’d first met Elizabeth, it had seemed like a dream come true. Elizabeth shared all of Mal’s fantasies, and the two of them were inseparable after just a couple dates. They moved in together after less than a year, and thanks to Elizabeth’s vast inherited wealth, both of them could stay home and focus on feeding Mal.

Maybe that had been foolish. It had seemed like they had everything in common, but over time, their kinks seemed to take over everything. Mealtimes disappeared, replaced by endless grazing. Elizabeth still managed to take the time to work out, remaining as fit as she’d been on the day they’d met, but because it turned her on to have Mal stuff themselves while they watched Elizabeth sweat, Mal never joined in.

Actually, come to think of it, Mal hadn’t actually broken a sweat in years. Ensconced in Elizabeth’s air-conditioned penthouse, there was no need to. That would just be calories burned that didn’t need to be.

No surprise, then, that Mal had gotten huge. The kind of huge most people only saw on reality TV. The kind of huge Mal had dreamed of for years. And yeah, it was hot as fuck. Being able to get themselves off with their own blubber? Having Elizabeth come just by grinding on Mal’s gut? Mal had never even dared to imagine they would have it so good. So they relaxed into it even further, unconcerned by any potential consequences. Elizabeth’s bank account was bottomless, after all, and there were few challenges that couldn’t be solved by money.

As far as Mal knew, though, money couldn’t help them stand up if they’d gotten too fat to do so themselves. But that couldn’t be right. They had just done it! Just that morning, when Elizabeth had helped them waddle in from the bedroom. But that had been before eight hours of eating and god knew how many calories.

Mal scooted forward, or tried to, pinned by their vast, hanging gut. It seemed like no part of their body would cooperate. They used their arms to try and push and pull themself forward, but that got them nowhere. They tried to use the couch for support while they shifted their weight forward, hoping gravity would do most of the work.

All this effort left them panting, face red with effort.

It hit them like a ton of bricks (or, in this case, nearly a half-ton of Mal): they couldn’t get up. Not on their own. Not without help. They had gotten so astronomically fat that it was within the realm of possibility that the couch would become their entire world. That reality should’ve been a wake-up call. Should’ve been a moment where Mal realized they should slow down, maybe lose enough weight that they could at least move under their own power.

Instead, they just found it ridiculously, mind-bogglingly hot, which of course made them feel hungry since the two impulses had been so inextricably entwined in their mind. “Elizabeth?” they called out. “Are you almost done in there? I’m wasting away in here, and I have something important to tell you…”