"Day 36" - Another Chapter in the Series (Patreon)

Day 36

By Lardfill, August 27, 2022

This is another addition to the "Day One" series of stories that began last month.

________________________

Day 36

I woke up.

The blindfold and headphones were off!

The nightmarish dream was over!  For what felt like eternity, Cook's voice had been repeating over and over in my head as my belly was stretched so tight that I constantly felt like wailing in pain.   It had been torture, even though I loved having no control, it had been incredibly destructive to my mind.   I had screamed out for it to end multiple times, crying and fighting against the straps in my moments of clarity, but they were few and far between.   

I often felt nothing and thought nothing while being strapped down, brainwashed and fattened.   My mind would go blank and Cook's recorded voice would just keep talking in the background.  I knew my brain was still listening, but I was in too much of a state of shock to actually hear the words during the thousands of times the brainwashing audio looped.  The only problem was that the longer I stayed tuned out, the harder it was to snap back into true consciousness.   I just laid there, without a single thought as I lost the concept of time.

How long had it been?   Months?  A week?  I couldn't tell.

The light was so harsh to look at.  I had been blindfolded for so long that any light that I was now seeing was like looking at the sun.  I clenched my eyes and struggled to raise my arm up to shield myself from the blinding white glow.

I could move my arm!   I wasn't strapped down!   I could move all my limbs again, but they ached so bad that all I could do was stretch and feel the slight freedom of not having straps keeping me motionless.  My arm resting on my face felt heavy and moving it took all my strength.  I was sweating and breathing heavy from the effort of just trying to move my muscles.

My throat felt so dry and my nose hurt.   All my senses were gradually returning, but it was painful and uncomfortable.  I felt sick.   Something was definitely wrong.   I had never felt such a grinding pain in my guts before.   I groaned out loud and tried to roll onto my side but it was too agonizing so I remained on my back and tried to peer through the intense light.

I could slowly begin to see my surroundings.  I wasn't in the cement room anymore.   There was a television and a couple chairs and a table... a bed... two beds.   A pastel painting in an outdated frame...   

I heard the sudden stop of what sounded like a shower.  Foot steps.   

"Look at you!  Awake and moving around already!" the all too familiar voice of Cook spoke out from a doorway.  "I thought it was time to celebrate a little."

"Spzzoosta?" I asked in complete gibberish.   

I stopped in shock and tried to ask "Celebrate what?" again like I had just attempted.

"Spu-  Bist... Come!" I blurted out, drool starting to hang from my mouth.

I couldn't understand what was happening.   My head was foggy and slow.  I wanted to say certain things but none of the words were there.   I wanted to respond to Cook with a question, but it was like it was all just a reflex.   I knew that I should have a response that would express my feelings, but there were no words to properly match up to any of those thoughts.   My mouth would open to speak and incorrect pieces of words would tumble out. 

"Bus as shrines?" I said, shaking my head with tears building up in my eyes from frustration.  "Ant up an nappy?" 

Cook burst out laughing, his naked body glistening wet from the shower.    He sauntered over with a cruel smile and a growing erection.   He towered over me, his eyes piercing into mine with a stone cold serious gaze that didn't match his mocking grin.  

"What's your name, pig?" Cook asked with a sneer.

"Laaaard," I spoke out, trying my hardest to say my name.   "Gah!   L-Lard!   LARD!!"

Cook burst out laughing in my face so close I could smell his breath.    He smelled delicious.    He was clean and fresh but he smelled like man and meat.   I didn't care anymore that I couldn't speak properly, I didn't even care that I couldn't even say my own name because of the re-wiring Cook had done with his endless brainwashing - all I cared about was eating.   

I suddenly realized that the stabbing pains in my gut were hunger pangs.   I was starving!  This was the first time in what seemed like forever that my belly wasn't stuffed full to the maximum.   I slid my arm off my forehead and slowly reached down to my belly.   Cook just watched in amusement as I discovered what 36 days of a constant bloat of liquid calories could do to somebody.

My fingers landed in a soft expanse of extremely sensitive flesh earlier than I expected them to.   I looked down at myself and gasped.   There was at least 100lbs of new fat piled on top of me.   Wide stretchmarks covered my skin all over, some of them disturbingly wide - I had been growing so fast and so constant that it looked like my skin was about to tear itself apart.

My upper stomach wasn't the giant ball like it had been the last time I had seen it but it still rose up in a beautiful curve that blocked the sight of my feet.  The tank belly was now a slightly less-swollen sack of semi-firm fat surrounded by thick love handles that wrapped around my lower belly as a hefty roll of delicately soft blubber.  I sunk my fingers into the fat and felt my little cock harden from the touch.    I couldn't see my erection, the horizon of my belly and chest blocked the view, but I could feel my puny manhood rising out of a couple inches of newly grown fat.

My chest had grown very big, hanging down to the sides but still keeping very full and perky even while laying down.  My nipples, ringed in stretchmarks, were tender and jumbo-sized, so much so that I assumed that Cook had been pumping them while I was in my extended stay in the darkness.   I was so soft all over that I knew once that I stood up, all my fleshy lard would hang out into a very sloppy mess that would look nothing like my body had when I met Cook.

"Thirty-six days... and one hundred and forty-five pounds new pounds!" Cook said, slapping my cock into my underbelly so hard that I flinched.    "Time to celebrate!"

Cook spun around and opened a closet, pulling out a wheelchair and revealing it with a big toothy smile.

"What better way to see Vegas?" Cook asked with a wicked smile.

"Spargus?" I sputtered out like an idiot. 

"Yeah, that's right, dummy.   Spargus!" Cook said mockingly while chuckling to himself.  "We're going to park your fat ass in the cheapest buffets in town all weekend and show those people how big of a pig you are."

"Why - dough...nut?" I struggled to force out of my mouth, proud of myself for getting one word right.

"I had been planning a road trip to Vegas for a year - before I met you - so I packed you up in my trailer.  We've been on the road for a week," Cook said.  "I love this city... all the gluttony... all the proud, over-the-top gluttony..."

A loud growl came from my belly.

"Are you hungry?   Here, eat these while we get ready," Cook said, handing me a bag of candy.

I devoured the entire bag of gummy candies in a matter of seconds.   He handed me another bag with a grin, which I gobbled down even faster than the first bag.    He handed me a third bag, and a forth...  I was too busy eating that I didn't even notice what Cook was doing.  

Before I realized it, Cook pushed my feet up in the air and propped my legs on his shoulder.  My belly and chest pushed back against my new double chin, my focus on the sweet chewy candies sliding over my tongue and not on the massive adult diaper that Cook was shoving under my ass.   He lowered my legs and wrapped the XXXL diaper around my hips, taping them into place.   

"Fucking disgusting," Cook said with that wicked smirk that drove me wild.   "Can't take you anywhere...   Fucking pig... thirty-six days was all it took to erase everything you spent your life learning."

He swatted at the bulge of my waking erection and then rubbed my growling belly lovingly before slipping a pair of sweatpants up over my legs, hiding the diapers from sight.  The seventh bag of candy was emptying into my gut when he started laughing again.   I didn't even try to ask him what was so funny, I knew he had won.

"Enjoy all those?" Cook asked, picking up one of the bags and reading it out-loud. "They're the strongest cannabis-infused candies I could find.   That should give you a hell of a case of the munchies and slow your brain down to a crawl, boy-o.   We're going to go out there to the buffets.   You're going to eat and be distracted by all the pretty lights and sounds and I'm going to keep bringing you plate after plate."

"Moo?" I said, wanting to say 'really', and then shook my head and began to laugh.   

Cook pinched my nipple and rolled it between his thumb and finger, making me squirm as much as my muscles would allow.   He sucked on it briefly before looking up and nibbling on my chin.

"You don't talk to anyone.   You just eat and be a fat stupid pig, you got that?"  Cook said sternly.   "If you even try to get help or talk to someone, they'll just think your drunk or something... no one will help you.   No one will even look at you, other than to stare and point out how obscenely fat you are.   We're just getting started, pig.   You're still just a piglet - remember that.  The weight you've gained and the intelligence you've lost this month are nothing compared to what's coming, so just sit back, open your fat fucking mouth and enjoy the ride."

With that, Cook hoisted me up with all his strength and plopped my fat ass down in the wheelchair.   He slipped a thin, torn undershirt tank top over my torso, but my belly hung out of the bottom of the shirt and my nipples were vaguely visible through the thin white fabric.   Cook stepped back and a snorting laugh came out of his mouth involuntarily.  I looked ridiculous.  I would have normally been embarrassed but all I could think of was an endless buffet of food.  I began to drool down onto my shirt without realizing.

"Try not to fucking shit yourself out there," Cook said bluntly.  "I'll take you to the washroom every hour or so, but if you need to go, let me know immediately.   You're wearing those diapers because I know I can't trust you with that big of a responsibility, but with the amount you'll be eating, these are practically worthless as soon as you lose control.   Pig."

I grunted and stared straight forward.   I was trapped so badly.  This was probably my last hope of getting back to a normal life... I could.. . get...  help... and...   What was I just thinking about?  The buffets!  Yes!   I was so hungry!  I needed to eat!   Why weren't we already there?"

By the time that we arrived at the first buffet, the incredible amount of cannabis edibles in my system had begun to take affect.   My mind was moving at a slug's pace, but my appetite was raging to an almost unbearable degree, and I couldn't stop giggling.   Cook wheeled me over to a table and parked me there while he went off to get the first tray of food.

He returned with a plate of raw vegetables and lean foods.   Tears welled up in my eyes.  I wanted greasy fried foods and starchy foods!   I wanted salty crispy bacon and melting cheese... I wanted fried chicken and mashed potatoes swimming in gravy... I wanted creamy casseroles and meat!   I wanted fucking cake!   My face was red and Cook silently chuckled to himself as he slid the plate of green vegetables and whole grains in front of me.

"Spat!!  Gimme fatty!!!  FATTY!   Hungry!" I spewed out angrily.   

Heads turned.

A husband and wife a few tables away looked over in shock and then gave annoyed queasy faces when they saw me.   A table of guys in their twenties were trying their hardest not to laugh and point.   Another man rolled his eyes and went back to eating.

"Okay... okay... cool it.  I'll get you what you want!" Cook said loudly so everyone could hear.

He winked at me and then walked back to the buffet, shrugging his shoulders to the group of twenty-somethings as though he was annoyed.  I could feel eyes on me - people were looking and making comments, I knew it.   I needed to get help.  One of them would help me...  they just... had... to...   Had to... what?   What was I just thinking?    Fried chicken and gravy.   Fuck yes!

Cook returned, balancing two heaping  trays of food - all exactly what I wanted.   Being the jerk he was, he didn't give any rhyme or reasoning to his plating, presenting me with a literal pile of food.   Fried chicken embedded in a cheesy rice casserole, burying a big slab of cake which was, in turn, burying a pile of crispy sticky orange chicken.   People were watching as I greedily took a handful and crammed it into my mouth.   I couldn't help myself.

"MORE!" I blurted out from a mouthful of food, possibly causing the group of guys to laugh.  I wasn't sure if they were laughing at me, I wasn't looking at them, I was too busy inhaling food like a pig.   The hunger in me had shaken me to my core - nothing else mattered as much as filling my belly to its maximum.

"How about you finish what you have and then I'll go get you more food," Cook said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"MORE!  FATTY! MORE!" I raged, beginning to discover that Cook hadn't destroyed all the words in my head - but the few words left didn't leave me with many options.

"Okay, okay!" Cook replied before heading back to the buffet, pretending to be an unwilling participant in my uncontrolled gluttony.

I watched as he shook his head as he walked away, giving everyone a show.   The eyes soon began to trail over to me from all over the room.   They looked at me like I was a crazy person, or like I was some kind of bait in a candid camera prank show.   People couldn't believe that someone could be so hungry.    I crammed another handful of food into my face and licked my fingers clean.   I lazily looked over at the nearby table at the couple having an early dinner as they tried not to make eye contact with me.

Maybe the husband and wife will help me?  

 He's looking at me!   

How do I tell him I need help?

I opened my mouth to speak but then shoved a heaping handful of casserole into my lips instead.   I groaned and my eyes rolled back in pleasure.   The man was still looking at me, but he looked repulsed, like he was watching a show about how they make sausage.  I sucked down the food as fast as I could and then tried to speak again.

"Fuck me!" I called out, immediately embarrassed that the word 'fuck' had come out instead of 'help'.

The husband and wife both turned away and grabbed their plates to change tables to one that wasn't so close to me.   My heart sank.   I looked over at the group of guys and they quickly turned their heads away and began snickering.   I had food smeared all over my face and had already made a mess on my clothes.  I felt so ashamed that... I...  I...    This chicken is amazing.   Fuck it's good.

 I smiled at the young men at the nearby table  and shoved another mass of food into my mouth to try to impress them.   They kept peeking back at me with looks of shock as I lost control and began power fisting all the food into my face like an animal.   

Cook returned with two more trays of food piled high and removed the two trays which I had cleared in just two minutes.   He tisked at me, wagging a finger in front of my face before I could grab more food.

"More!" I said with a stupid grin, glad to finally have one word that still meant what it used to.

"No.  You'll get more when you finish all of this," Cook said loud enough for others to hear, shaking his head, pretending to be disappointed.

He leaned in close with a dangerously vicious face.

"I heard you try to call out for help," he informed me.  "Good thing I switched some words around or else you'd be getting punished right now.   You want to know what the punishment is for trying to get help?"

I shook my head no.

"I take you away from here, no more food...and I don't bring you home.   We're in the desert, piggy.   Guess where I'd be leaving you?" Cook said, stuffing a mayo-filled burger into my mouth with force.  "Just swallow...  that's all you do is swallow or else you end up as a wasted pile of pork frying in the sun."

I obeyed.    

The next seven hours were spent keeping me back at my overstuffed state, helplessly full but unable to stop eating.   The cannabis candy edibles turned my mind to mush soon after Cook gave me my final warning, making the rest of the day fly by in a haze of grease and carbs.  I ate and watched as people stared.   So many people were fatter than me, but none of them ate like I did.   I was like an animal - there was no stopping me from pushing more down my throat.  

Cook paid the buffet again to allow us to stay eating so much food.  The buffet owners stopped us every time Cook would bring me to the washroom, demanding more money if I was going to eat so much food.  He gladly paid more, but then promised that he would only clear out the remaining portions of food from all of the almost-empty serving trays so they wouldn't have any waste food.   They agreed to allow me to stay, and Cook took pride in piling my plates high with a mess of random foods that would have otherwise been thrown out to make room for a new tray.  I was the buffet's pig for the night - his pig, and I would eat anything he piled in front of me.   

"MORE!" I belched out after clearing my seventeenth plate.

The buffet was much busier now, and the sight of me was becoming a bit of a conversation piece.  Cook had wiped me clean as much as possible, but my tank top was soaked with grease and stains so much that it hung low and heavy, revealing my bare nipples from the sides of the tank top.  My belly was a round tight sphere again, but the slab of soft blubber underneath now made me look enormously fat.  I was still eating with my hands like a drunk toddler, and even Cook had a collection of splatters and finger marks on his clothes just by being near me while I ate.   

"That's fucking nauseating," a young man with bulging muscles said as he walked by to get to the buffet.  "You need help."

"Fuck me," I blurted out with a knowing laugh, winking at Cook over my newly learned vocabulary.

"Fuck you, you fat pig!  You fucking disgust me!   God, fat people are nasty," the man angrily lashed back.

"Get lost," Cook said gruffly, giving the young man a look of rage that sent him away without another word.  

Cook watched with lust as I dug into my eighteenth plate.  He loved seeing the remains of my personality trying to impress him.   I really wanted to make him proud, and I loved giving into my appetite so deeply, but he scared me.   I knew he was stronger than me, smarter than me, and more experienced than me.   He seemed to know every step of this path down into immobility and extreme gluttony, like he was an experienced guide.  He knew how to tear somebody down and then build them back up into a mindless animal.   I was just one of many, I was sure of it.   

What would happen to me?  

How long could I survive this kind of life?

Did I even want anything else in life?

Do I smell gravy??

Cook was standing in front of me with an erection clearly pressing into his pant leg.   He had a hungry look on his face as he set down two more trays of food in front of me.   One was piled with the usual mix of mashed potatoes, scalloped potatoes, french fries, nacho cheese, hot dogs, and a creamy alfredo slop that melted over all of it.    The other tray had a big metal bowl in it with a gallon of gravy that was nearing the end of its life.

"I told them if there was any gravy left over that they were going to throw out, you'd get rid of it for them," Cook said with a growing smile as I was already clumsily lifting the bowl to my face before he had finished talking.

The gravy was thick and warm as it slipped over my tongue.   I didn't even realize the sounds I was making.   Slurping loudly, but also groaning and moaning in pleasure as I sucked it all down as fast as I could.   When I lowered the empty bowl, dozens of people were looking at me with contempt.   I was disgusting.   I was out of control.

"Jesus man... alright, you can stay until close..." a busboy said as he approached the table.

He and Cook shook hands and then the busboy tried to give him a folded-up ten dollar bill, but Cook pushed the money away and laughed. 

"No, no... there's no bet.   I was just kidding," Cook said, pushing the money back into the busboy's hands.   "If we can stay until close without having to pay again, that's plenty."

"I didn't think he'd be able to drink all that... I mean, how the hell can he keep eating like that?   Dude's gonna explode," the busboy said in disbelief as I began to mindlessly devour the twentieth tray that had been put in front of me. 

"I told ya, he's part pig or something... never stops eating..." Cook said, adding, "It'd be revolting if it wasn't so impressive."

"Right?   Dude needs to be on a farm, rolling around in the mud with the other pigs," the busboy laughed.  "No offense, big guy."

"MORE!" I moaned, looking at the kitchen worker like he was part of my meal.

I plunged my face back into the soupy pile of potato, cheese and cream sauce and wrapped my lips around a cluster of hot dogs.    I sucked them down my throat with barely any bites, my eyes locked on the busboy as I sucked the plump wieners into my mouth with a messy grin.  

"Fuck me...  I gotta go..." the busboy said, blushing and covering his crotch with the plastic bin that he used to clear empty plates from tables.  

He breathlessly grabbed the empty plates on our table and left, seemingly shook up by his interaction with me.   Cook just smiled and scooped out the remaining sludge of congealing gravy from the metal bowl and let it plop down onto the food that I would soon be pushing into my greedy face.   I looked down at my food-smeared belly, my shirt hopelessly trying to cover it, but my entire lower belly was sagging heavily between my legs, the stretchmarks a clear sign to everybody that I was on a rapid descent into obesity.   

I couldn't help myself.

I was so hungry.

I needed more.   

As I pushed another pile of food into my mouth, I could feel myself losing control completely.   I couldn't stop myself.   I moaned loudly as I pushed a greasy mess of food into my mouth with both hands.   My cheeks bulged.   Sweat poured down my face.   I was so full.   There was no room for more, but I was couldn't stop eating.  I pushed more food in and felt myself lose control more.    I was so weak.   I couldn't stop it.    Cook got up to get more food for me, but leaned in close before he did.

"You're a sick dirty pig, you know that?  Keep eating.   Don't stop.   We're not moving from this spot until closing time.  You got five more hours before we go to the next buffet, pig.  Make me proud."