Free Donuts Part 4 (Patreon)

With size comes difficulties in even the smallest of tasks, how will Katie fare as she gives in to her new diet? 

Written and Illustrated by myself

Edited by the marvelous Firefox 

- - - 

 Day 46

For the first few days it seemed like everything was going well. Life outside of her old call center’s grasp suited Katie well. She would frequently pass out in front of the tv, late at night, paws and muzzle streaked with various dusts and donut icings, and seldom would she wake up before noon, except for when she felt the need to haul her bloated body to the bathroom. As time went on though, this benial chore got harder and harder.

At first it was getting up that Katie noticed was becoming an issue. Her gut, slowly creeping forward inches every day, pushed her legs apart and hung over the edge of the couch. It would have made the perfect platform for a box of donuts or two if that didn’t obstruct the view of her TV. And whatever bonus it could deliver as a makeshift table were quickly negated by just how difficult it was to move! Waking up from the throws of a sugar induced food coma with a pressing need to use the bathroom, Katie was beginning to view this stomach of hers as an adversary in more regards than simply what it had done to her wardrobe. It pinned her to her couch, pushing her into its pillows, wooden frame creaking and groaning beneath her where springs had long since given up having any hope of holding up her weight. Standing was no longer as easy as pushing off with her arms until her legs had leverage - her arms simply could not haul the bloated pile of doughy lard that her body had become. Instead, she had to wiggle forward, shuffling ever so slightly with each butt cheek, pushing her legs out in front and pulling with them to help gently shift her from her sunken-in position on the couch. It would have been humiliating, had anyone been there to watch as this six-hundred-plus pound whale of a vixen slowly wobbled her way forward on the couch, fighting gravity and the colossal indent she had made in her own furniture. Once her ass cheeks were perched on the edge of the couch, she could lean forward, arms outstretched and slowly use that momentum to get to her feet, legs shaking as they came under the sudden weight. 

And that was just getting up.

The formerly simple act of walking was a feat that had become significantly harder, now that both of her thighs had ballooned to the point where she could feel them rubbing along each other right down to the knee. She had to lean back and hold her gut so that it didn’t tip her over as, as big as her ass cheeks had become, they were nothing compared to the massive size of her stomach. Her gut had become the second biggest challenge she faced when walking; a pendulous apron which drooped well past her knees, actively impeding forward motion as she bumped it with every step she took. Katie grunted, not daring to wipe the sweat from her brow without resting her stomach on something sturdy. She spread her legs as wide as she could, each one only able to lift from the ground for what felt like milliseconds at a time, and then when they were as wide as she could get them, she moved one leg in front of the other in a wide, lumbering waddle.

For anyone else of her impressive size, they might have had an easier time of it. Katie, however, had arrived at this weight in less than two months and the sudden transformation had given her body no time to adjust. Her muscles had no time to build, much less become used to this burden placed upon them. 

Step by step, usually with an aching bladder, Katie made her way to the small bathroom of her house and slowly but surely she would approach the final obstacle to her morning routine. The doorway. 

It was one of the few doorways in the house that she still bothered to traverse, having long since given up on getting into and out of bed when the couch was simply the easier possibility (despite the havoc it wreaked with her back). She blushed every time she saw the doorway, cracks in the frame from previous day’s struggles of forcing herself through. Cracks which would only expand as she pushed herself through once again, taking it side on so that at least her gut could be supported as she stuffed herself in, pushing her own blubber through the portal as though kneading dough. More cracks formed. Plaster fell. Her door had long since broken and been pushed off the hinges, propped dejectedly against the wall.

After a few five minute breaks to catch her breath and let the doorframe take some of the weight off her legs, Katie would eventually make it through to where she could use the bathroom in relative peace. At least for someone of her size. Every day she found even those menial things like hygiene to be more and more difficult, but she had no other alternatives. 

A good half-hour later she found herself crashing indelicately into her couch, ignoring the way its groans of protest had an increasingly ‘death rattle’ like quality to them, and she leaned over to where her laptop sat humming on the table beside the couch, buried beneath empty boxes. 

No one had gotten back to her about the resumes she had sent off. Friends and family weren’t visiting anymore (which, to her mind was an increasingly good thing as clothes were simply another hassle she could not afford). Her bank account was slowly draining itself into bills and worse still, she simply could not imagine herself holding down a job anymore. Certainly not at her weight. If going to the toilet had become an hour’s ordeal, she couldn’t fathom what on earth would she be able to do to get paid. 

The only good bit of news her laptop gave her was that she still had a good eight months of free donuts left. As long as she still had a stream of those doughy treats coming in, things would be okay. She would not only eat, but she would eat well. 

Just the thought of them aroused a rumble in a stomach that was never truly empty. With the entire day to herself, Katie didn’t have to worry about things like breaks in eating. She could simply stuff herself with the donuts until she was full to bursting and then, once the ache in her stomach had subsided a little bit, she could stuff herself some more. Letting the laptop rest on her gut, she absentmindedly pulled another box up beside her and started her daily binge. She would play some casual games, (the only ones her chubby fingers were really capable anymore), get some interaction online, and then later in the evening switch to some tv, all while keeping her stomach constantly on the edge of full to bursting with an ever increasing amount of donuts. 

***

It was only a few days later that Katie’s couch broke. She had lost track of time between star trek marathons, seemingly always a donut in hand as she paid scant interest to the happenings of second rate sci-fi settings, her gut always aching but always demanding more. 

More.

More.

It was a haze of pleasure that she was snapped out of with the creaking and cracking of her couch’s wooden frame. And honestly, the furniture had held out valiantly as the fox had long passed any weight that either of them should have been expected to hold up. She blinked, gulping down the last globs of dough, icing and jam in her mouth before her entire body lurched downwards, the couch collapsing dramatically around her. 

It made sense. She was fat. Beyond fat. Utterly and morbidly obese. She could feel her love handles brushing against the couch’s arms to either side of her, making it blatantly clear was how wide she was. Her massive ass cheeks completely dominated the couch cushions beneath them and that thought alone awoke a sensation within her that was not entirely unpleasant. A tingling of pleasure, a flame ignited deep within as she gripped her own massive sides with bloated hands and fingers that now resembled sausages. 

She was too fat to stand, too fat to move, and still, she reached for the side table where more donuts were stacked. 

And still, all she wanted, was more.