You asked for this. Don't pretend you didn't know exactly what you were doing, leaving empty wrappers around for me to find and carefully placing popped buttons where I'd see them. It's not like I haven't noticed the sheer amount of *weight* that you've been packing on, the frayed waistbands of your underwear and sinking of the mattress as you deposit your ass onto it are both as telling as the fattened keg you're currently sporting. Hell, listening to you come to bed every night panting around your own bloated stomach is just one of the *many* hallmarks of a pig you've been displaying, and yet you're still looking at me with widened eyes. You ordered the funnel, sweetheart. I saw the confirmation email, I found it hidden in the back of the cupboard. I mean...the snack cupboard, really? How original. Why are you so surprised this has happened? Who do you think has been stocking the cupboard with all the little treats I know you can't resist? And the fridge. And the pantry...you've been emptying them all. Again and again. And now those bloated, overfed birds have come home to roost, and it's ended with you here. Are you comfortable? Well, as comfortable as you can be, rounded out and puffy as you are. Look at you, you're enormous. Your ass cheeks are hanging off the sides of the chair. You look worried, pet, yet I didn't get any resistance when I bound one hand to the back of the seat. In fact, I saw you shift and jiggle when you squeezed your fat thighs together. Do you want it? I crafted this thick shake just for you, after your browsing history betrayed your real secret. I took all the most decadent elements from those sinful recipes and blended them with flavors I know drive you wild, especially after the heavy meal you just had. A whole jug of pure indulgence, mindless empty calories just waiting to sit heavily on your gut. Yes? Then open wide. Ready? Swallow. Again. That's it darling, swallow it. Take it all. More. There you go. Suck out the last drops for me. There's a good pet.