Amusement Park Pounds-Part 3

After four months of the park dining plan, Carly grunted as she heaved herself out of the driver's seat and began to waddle across the parking lot, her entire body jiggling in response to the newly porky woman's effort. The 66-day mark had come and gone without comment just like the 30-day mark had, and Carly, not one to give in despite all evidence pointing to failure, had continued with her three meals and two snacks a day for another two months, bloating her into the early stages of obesity.

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She barely recognized herself when she looked in the mirror, and instead saw a globular, hanging belly adorned with plush, swollen love handles and fatty, grippable side rolls. She saw a rounded face with a permanent double chin and sunken features from the amount of chub that was enveloping them. She saw wobbling arms swollen with fresh blubber, thick, cellulite-pocked thighs struggling to rub past each other and forcing a more pronounced waddle than her constantly overfull belly already did. She saw fat-dimpled skin marred with bright, angry red stretch marks from the speed at which she piled on weight. She saw her frame widening day by day, felt her swelling ass bounce and wobble behind her as her hips took up more and more space.

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She was undeniably fat now. Clearly the kind of heavy, swollen woman who couldn't control herself around dessert. She’d never been anywhere near this size before, never even imagined her previously fit body wobbling around laden with so much extra lard, but here she was. Her ankles were disappearing, her fingers and hands were chubbing up, even her feet were growing pudgy with the fat she was cramming into her lard-rounded face each day.

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She felt herself being buried under layers of new fat and yet she couldn't stop herself, couldn't let go of the fact that she had been cheated and the situation required rectification. She no longer needed that line of thinking as motivation to finish her massive feasts however, and more often than not, she’d found herself wanting more lately. She’d upsized her clothes twice more since her little decision, but after outgrowing her third set of new slacks and discovering that unbuttoning her pants before she got to the point of bursting the button was far preferable, she gave up entirely. Better to waddle around in sweatpants and leggings than unbuttoned slacks.

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The growth of her gut had shocked her more than anything, and she would often grip the growing orb with two hands in disbelief, shaking and bouncing it as if it weren't truly attached to her. Lifting her gut and letting it fall left it wobbling so wildly that Carly now had to use a hand to steady it, and massaging burps from her gut when she was too full to waddle to her next meal constantly induced shock at just how soft and squishy the once firm ball was becoming.

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For a while her belly had grown further and further outward, pressing out so far in front of her plumping body that she constantly ran into things with her gut, but more recently, her belly was beginning to hang. The hang was only making her lower belly more and more jiggly, and she could barely move without leaving her stretch-marked marked lined middle undulating. Her belly hang was beginning to push out of the bottom of the t-shirts she’d purchased to go with her new legwear, and attempts to suck in only left her panting for air after a few seconds.

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Attempting to suck in was the only exercise Carly was getting recently, and her ballooning weight and lack of physical fitness was beginning to show. Everything left her out of breath from waddling a few steps to tying her shoes, and the rounder her gut grew, the more difficult she found any activity whatsoever. She had grown to loathe the distance between the park’s restaurants and found herself wondering on more than one occasion why all those rollercoasters were taking up space that could fit additional locations of her favorite park chains.

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She paused to catch her breath midway to the front gate, a walk that would've taken less than a minute before she'd eaten herself into reduced mobility, and placed a hand on her growing belly. She’d resolved to eat nothing when she was at home, nothing at all outside of the park's meal plan, but that resolution was becoming more and more difficult to follow. She was starving by the time she got to the park nowadays, and the pace of her waddle only frustrated her now ferocious appetite.

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She was sweating lightly by the time she reached her desired breakfast food, a double meat platter from Bayou BBQ, and went on to clean her plate in record time, leaving her face and hands covered in the sticky brown sauce that had drenched the mountain of ribs, brisket, pork sausage, grilled chicken, corn, baked beans, and honey butter cornbread she’d just demolished. Carly's sweatpants were beginning to cut into her middle and she slid them down to free her belly with a sigh, well aware what that meant.

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As quickly as she was packing on the pounds, Carly hated to admit when she needed new clothes, and often bought the clothes in sizes so unrealistic they were already tight by the time they arrived. Looking in the mirror gave her no choice but to acknowledge just how enormous Silver Wave had made her in the last few months, particularly when inspecting how massively bloated her cheeks had become or how her double chin was so pronounced it was beginning to jiggle, but when she couldn't actually see the majority of her body, she didn't feel as large as she’d become. She’d switched to sports bras, which visually dismissed the size of her bulging rack and allowed her to remain in some sense of denial, and everything else was hidden well enough under t-shirts and stretchy pants. She couldn't deny how wide she looked, couldn't deny the jiggle she felt with every step, but she could continue to buy clothes she knew she would grow out of in a few weeks' time, her one form of protest against her self-contrived gluttony.

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The problem with the swap to sweats and stretchy spandex meant Carly could remain in denial about how tightly her clothes were fitting for much longer, and after another month of overeating in XL sweatpants, Carly had pushed them to their very limit. She’d split her pants 3 times in the last month while eating, and by this point carried a backup pair in her car that saved her from paying for $70 souvenir sweats once more. Blasting out of her clothes was becoming so common chiefly because her ass had been taking the brunt of the last month's gain, exploding in size and wobbling behind her uncontrollably as if it had a mind of its own. All that blubbery new flesh straining her undersized pants was too much for the thinning, overtaxed material, and she’d grown accustomed to the feeling of her massive ass bursting free and the instant relief it provided to her bloated body.

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Her gain hadn't slowed in the last month and Carly had unknowingly packed on another 35 pounds, blimping her solidly into the realms of obesity. She refused to weigh herself as she expanded, certain that the flashing number would only lessen her resolve to fight for her refund, meaning she was entirely unaware that if she were to weigh herself, she wouldn't have been able to see the number of the crest of her blubber-swollen gut.  

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Her upper belly was puffing up further and further as the bulk piling its way onto her fattening body struggled to find free space to accumulate, and she often rested a hand atop the developing shell as she ate, the surface area more than enough to serve as a table. She’d given up on her nightly fast, and when park food wasn't available, she’d taken to ordering a single large pizza that she would devour after the hour's drive home before falling asleep. One large pizza seemed like nothing considering how much she was putting away at the park in a single meal, but it was still 3 times larger than a meal she would've eaten 6 months ago, and that lack of acknowledgement was part of the reason Carly had blown out the waistband of her most recent pair of sweats. Bursting the seams was one thing, but blowing out the elastic waistband with the heft of her gut made her feel like such a hog she’d almost refused the rest of her meal.

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Almost.

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Her belly was quickly doubling, separating itself into two thick slabs of fat discernible through her skintight t-shirts, and every time she sat she swore it pushed further into her lap, swore it took up more and more space on her butter-bloated thighs.

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The explosion in the size of her ass was only making her waddle more obvious, and the fatter she grew, the more capacity she had to stuff herself. She was beginning to find some of the chairs in certain Silver Wave restaurants rather tight, and while she consciously attributed the recent discomfort to anything but her growing body, she unconsciously blushed each time her overflowing love handles brushed against the armed chairs in the Paris Bistro or Hamburger Hoedown.

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In addition, some of the staff in her most frequented restaurants like Cowabunga Cafe and The Cakewalk had begun to recognize her, and she swore she felt their judgmental eyes assessing the wobbling heft of her middle each time she jiggled in for another order. She couldn't help herself in certain locations, and The Cake Walk was one of them. She’d begun to order family meals with her dining pass, a perk she hadn't considered whatsoever until her fourth month, and discovered that while a family meal at a fast food restaurant was still much more than she could house in one sitting, a family meal at a dessert spot like The Cakewalk was more than manageable.

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She'd been putting away more than a cake a day in mix and match slices for the past two months, and every time the employees giggled her face burned, certain they were discussing the way her upper belly roll was bulging out of her sweatpants. Her t-shirts self-converted to crop tops with the increase in the size of her breasts, and her whole body was so ill confined by her clothes that the overall effect made her appear even fatter than she would've had she purchased clothes that fit. She was down to her last few pairs of sweats in that size that hadn't split, and the more she ate that day, the more certain she was growing that she’d never be able to squeeze into that size again.

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She sighed and grabbed her phone, taking a moment to push her tubby hand into the expanse of her exposed gut, impressively bloated considering its size and heavy enough to pin Carly to her chair. She was exhausted, ashamed as she was to get to the size where the act of eating was enough to feel like a workout, and leaned back. Her chubby fingers navigated to the camera instead of her browser as she’d intended, and she almost gasped at the accidental glimpse of herself.

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She thought she’d eaten herself into unrecognizability months ago after inspecting a face in the mirror so fat she could never truly associate it with the image she held of herself, but it wasn't until that moment that Carly learned what unrecognizable truly meant. Her rounded moon face, growing triple chin, and features entirely enshrouded by blubber made Carly look like an entirely different person. A total transform brought on by nothing but excess carbs and sugary milkshakes.

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She was red-faced and panting from her most recent stuffing, the sides of her mouth and one of her chins caked in frosting, but the most disturbing element of all was the hungry, desperate look in her eyes. She looked like a ravenous pig greedy for more. Every second she spent staring into the camera searching for herself beneath the blubber, she grew more and more terrified of what she’d become. What Silver Wave had done to her. If she didn't get her money back, this was all for nothing. All this weight, all the new clothes, all the money spent on gas, it would all be for nothing if the park didn't notice how much they were losing. No matter how much it made her gain.