Patreon Exclusive: Challenging The Gods part 3 (Patreon)

Part 3: Ascending To The Gods

So you might ask what happened next? Well the immediate thing is I grew. Oh God did I grow.. I continued to pile on the fat like no tomorrow. That's a good term for it, “pile om” It makes it sound like someone was shoveling the fat on me like a farmer shoveling shit.

Fat hung off me in drapes of flab. It’s hard to believe a person could attach this much flesh to a human body.

Heh, human.

With my aching heart my mortality was constantly being reminded. I was so fat it was literally flowing through my veins along with all the sugar too. My blood might as well be maple syrup with how much sugar I was taking in.

I was literally a big ball of fat, I lost my ability to walk a long time ago. My legs grew so round my feet no longer touch the ground, my ankles were swollen with water and lard. There was no way I could walk, my muscles had totally atrophied from my vulgar indulgence and sheer laziness.

When I discovered Brandy’s blessing I quit my job and spent a life of leisure which was being a lazy fat ass. My whole body was like a lard production factory and I was constantly shoving in fuel for it. My lazy ass expanded outwards as I sat, spreading out until I was wider than I was tall. I didn’t move for anything, these Gods who weighed a ton were doing all the work.

Still, my heart bugged me. My fatty blood was doing me in and one day I suffered four heart attacks at once….and lived through it because of Brandy.

Heart attacks are ju-

Sorry I had another one just now. I don’t know how long I can keep up with telling you my story, mister journalist man. But I’ll try.

Where were we?

Right, sorry. Technically dying really takes it out of me. Heart attacks are just a fact of life for a blob that weighs a ton. It’s not like the others don’t get them too, you came into our house while Margarita was clutching her chest. She’s lucky she can still grab her chest, I can’t even move my arms anymore. I have to be fed by Sherry.

So anyways with me being a lazy fat ass I was growing way beyond morbid obesity and into places few mortals dared to venture. Seven hundred, eight hundred, nine hundred, I was gaining hundreds and hundreds of pure heavy yellow fat.

You might say I am fat. A useless blob of unused calories, a collection of adipose and skin. Just look at me, my jowls are just another puddle of fat. There used to be a woman but now there’s nothing but fat.

All during the growing process I continued to worship these Gods, and continued to adore them in my kisses. When I got too fat to move it was time for these Gods to bess me once more. Each one took turns pounding me with a strap on, the sex was absolutely perfect, you couldn’t ask for a better fuck.

Which leads to where I am now. Who knew fucking a few Gods was what was needed to ascend to a higher level of existence. It’s why I survived that heart attack you just saw. I have become the God of Obesity.

That’s pretty much it, I don’t know what else I can tell you.

Followers? I’m certain they’ll be coming thanks to this story, Mister Journalist.

Oh my. Are you kissing my feet? I can’t see you, my stomach blocks the way.

Yes thank you. Go on and spread the word.

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“Hail the God of Obesity hail!”

I looked over what has become of this house. This expanded house has become more like a temple. It’s fitting, all four of us on our padded pillows being fanned by several hunky mortals, it reminds me of back in Egypt. Especially the lit torches above us, that was a nice idea from the journalist.

Sherry is beside me and she has several worshippers on her, hugging and squeezing into her fat rolls where they find beer and other drinks. They’re all drunk and horny, they vigorously hump her fat rolls, seeking immortality.

Foolish humans.

They won’t gain immortality by doing that. It has to be intercourse. I question whether I should tell them. But then I discard that idea.

Margarita has several on her as well, but they seem quiet and docile just like her. They enjoy laying on her and sleeping peacefully. They ask her for good weather for their crops. Margarita obliges, the entire world is her plaything and many languages are spoken to her,

As for Amber, well...she’s the main attraction isn’t she?

She hasn’t stopped growing and there are plenty of men still humping her as they are me.

This looks like a good way to spend the next thousand years

The End