Kinktober Day 17: Bottomless Stomach

Amma didn’t know whether to call it a blessing or a curse. These days, she leaned more toward calling it a blessing, but maybe that was just because it was her whole livelihood now.

See, from the moment she was born, Amma had been hungry. Her mother had ended up switching to bottle-feeding after just three days because baby Amma was so ravenous. She spent a lot of time in doctor’s offices as a kid, listening to doctors go over blood tests and X-rays and brain scans with her worried parents. No one could figure out why she was the way she was. She was just Amma, and Amma was always hungry.

When she first started going to school, she struggled to focus. The regimented organization of the day meant she had to wait until recess and lunch to eat, and the hours in between felt like torture. It was only after multiple disruptions in class caused by her loudly growling stomach and a few outbursts where she’d started to cry because she was so hungry that she was given permission to eat during class so long as she did it quietly.

Her classmates’ bullying was relentless. She was already chubby, and the fact that she literally couldn’t go more than thirty minutes without eating lest she break down in tears only added barbs to other kids’ insults. By the time she hit middle school, she begged her parents to let her be homeschooled. They had reservations, but acquiesced after she came home with bruises all over her body after the kids at school started a “pinch an inch on Amma” challenge.

Homeschooling offered some degree of freedom. She didn’t have to worry about anyone judging her for eating. Her parents had long since realized attempting to control Amma’s diet was both futile and cruel. They did require that she do some kind of physical activity, especially since she had to meet their state’s PE requirement, and she chose swimming. She was never very fast, but she liked the weightless feeling of being in the water. Plus, seeing a locker room full of women with bodies of all different shapes and sizes and ages made her feel a little less like a freak of nature. Watching adults just live in their bodies without any apparent concern for what anyone else thought or looked like, even when they were fat bodies like Amma’s, gave her hope that one day she might be comfortable in her own skin.

She started taking classes at the local community college during high school and got her GED as soon as she could. She felt like she fit in better with the college kids, even if she was younger. She even made some friends.

By the time she hit adulthood, she was as well-adjusted as she could be. Her endless appetite was still an issue, but she had gotten comfortable asking for accomodations, and better at withstanding hunger pangs when she needed to.

Her biggest problem was trying to figure out what to do for work. Despite the fact that most workplaces touted themselves as willing to assist with disability accommodations, she was often hit with the double whammy of people not wanting to hire someone fat enough to need a special office chair and also not being willing to let her eat outside of standard breaks. Even at jobs where she would be sitting in a cubicle and her eating wouldn’t interfere with her work at all, hiring managers always seemed to find another candidate.

She focused on finishing her degree, hoping that a diploma would give her the edge she needed to get hired. Even still living at home on her parents’ dime, though, she had a serious need for cash. Food and new clothes were expensive, and though her parents loved her and gave her what she needed, she didn’t want to burden them.

Thankfully, the cultural zeitgeist provided her with a perfect opportunity: mukbangs. Amma was stunned when she first found out about them. People would really watch livestreams of people just… eating. And eating a lot. Enough to rival even Amma’s wildest binges. There was the slight snag that a lot of the mukbangers she saw were thin and the few fat ones seemed a lot less popular, but “less popular” was relative. She watched a girl about her size rake in hundreds of dollars in donations over the course of an hour.

So she took the plunge. She just used her phone to film at first, not wanting to invest a bunch of money in a camera or microphone only to have this whole endeavor be unsuccessful. Her initial goal was just to pay for whatever she’d bought to eat on camera.

To her surprise and delight, she managed that on her first stream.

Amma’s soft, quiet personality stood out amongst the sea of gregarious, loud mukbangers. As she continued to build a following, she began to talk about her condition and found that this made people both super curious and much more likely to donate. She was stunned by it all. The idea that people would want to pay her money to eat while they watched flew in the face of all the bullying she’d faced, every nasty comment someone had tossed at her while she walked through a grocery store, every doctor who had told her how much her life would always suck.

Almost overnight, she was making money hand over fist. Of course, this meant doing more streams. Amma hadn’t ever been the type to hold back, but having enough money to literally eat whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted was like having shackles taken off. This meant she was putting weight on faster, but now that she had money for new clothes and more than enough for food, she didn’t care even a little.

Her follower count ballooned along with her body. She developed a dedicated fanbase who would watch her eat practically all day if she wanted to. And, bizarrely (at least to Amma), she found that a not insignificant number of them actually thought she was hot. Amma had never considered the possibility of hotness for herself before. She’d been told a lot over the years that she had “such a pretty face,” but those kinds of comments had always come with caveats. Amma had figured that no one would ever want her that way. She was fat and only getting fatter, and who would want to be with someone like that?

A lot of people, apparently.

There was a contingent of people who really wanted her to test her limits. They would pop up in the chat, begging Amma to see just how far she could go. She’d laughed. “I don’t have limits, y’all.” The clip had gone semi-viral in fetishist circles (which Amma was only just discovering even existed). She read people speculating whether this was even true, and others swooning over the idea of their fantasy of someone who could literally never stop eating being real.

The response was so overwhelming that she decided to do her first (and, she told herself, only) NSFW stream. By this time, she had bought her own little house with just enough yard for her to stick a hot tub in the back. She had never expected to become a “hot tub streamer,” but life was full of surprises. She wore a bikini for the occasion. The bottom was just big enough to cover most of her lower belly. It was supposed to go up to her waist, but that would’ve required a whole lot more fabric.

She ordered what seemed like an impossible amount of food--more than she would normally eat in an entire day. She set up a table right next to the hot tub and piled all the food onto it, set up her camera, then climbed into the tub and started streaming. Predictably, her audience lost it right away, commenting about how gorgeous she was and speculating on just how much she was going to be able to eat. She was her usual cute, shy self, answering questions and interacting with the chat as she ate.

When she finished an entire large pizza, she got a flood of donations. She laughed as she licked grease from her fingers. “You guys! I’m just getting started, don’t go for broke just yet.”

A plastic catering tray of orange chicken from her favorite Chinese restaurant was next. She ate rapturously, enjoying every bite. Soon enough, it, too, was gone, churning in her bottomless stomach.

A half-dozen other dishes went the same way: burritos, burgers, nacho fries, another pizza. And even though she could feel her skin pulling tight over her stomach, even though she could press her fingers to it and feel how full she was, even though everyone in the chat was creaming themselves over how big and round she looked, she was still hungry. She was made for this, made to eat until her hunger finally gave out or she couldn’t reach her food anymore.

She cleared the entire pile of food by the time the stream was over. She lounged back in the hot tub, moaning and rubbing her swollen stomach. Since it was a NSFW stream, she took full advantage and stripped naked, her belly happily bouncing free of her bikini bottoms. Even the water couldn’t take the pressure off. Her hunger still nagged at her, but quietly, overwhelmed by how stuffed she was.

It was the best she’d ever felt.

Her hot tub streams became weekly occurrences, and then daily. Donations poured in, everyone wanting to help fill Amma’s belly. Her gains were more rapid than ever. Every part of her was covered in livid red stretch marks as fat piled on to every bit of her body. From her chubby face to her fat feet, she was absolutely huge.

The crescendo arrived after a year of daily stuffing streams. She was back in the hot tub, not even bothering with a swimsuit. Compared to her girth, the hot tub was beginning to look like a kiddie pool. The volume of food she was set to consume was, to put it mildly, ludicrous. More than some people ate over the course of months. But she and her audience knew she would finish it all.

She started with a massive sheet cake to celebrate. It was covered in chocolate buttercream, her favorite. She finished it so quickly it almost seemed to disappear. She moved on to a pile of giant, soft cookies, and from there to catering trays filled with hot, creamy pasta. She ate, and ate, and ate, hours passing by as she gorged. As her belly expanded, more and more water was displaced from the hot tub. A few people in the chat wondered aloud if this would be the day she finally got too big for it.

Their wishes were granted. By the time she had finished, thousands upon thousands of calories glorping inside her fat belly, she realized she was having trouble moving. And not even in the way she had grown used to, where her weight made a lot of things a struggle. She realized she couldn’t move backward, or to the side. When she looked down, she realized that her stomach had puffed up until it pressed against the side of the hot tub, even though she was sitting all the way at the other end. She looked like a big, fat cork stuck into a wide-mouthed bottle. “Oh, fuck,” she said as she realized. She was too full to do anything about it, her belly so swollen and packed that any significant movement was nearly impossible.

She decided to make herself comfortable, running her plump hands over her plush stomach. “Well, friends, looks like I’ve got a new donation goal: get Amma a bigger hot tub, ‘cause it looks like I’ve gotten a little too fat for this one.” She could hear the sounds of donations rolling in before she even finished talking.