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Of course he was fat, that much was obvious. It wasn’t so much that he was too huge to begin with, but instead he was steadily climbing up in weight. Food was addicting, and the lizard was a hardcore addict. He couldn’t stop just shoveling the meals into his massive muzzle, and it was going on more and more often as his weight climbed into the quadruple digits. The food was always coming, and he never had to worry about the supply. Some unnamed benefactor was keeping him stocked, and enabling his paralyzing addiction. It wasn’t keeping him fed, the reptile was doing that on his own. It was keeping the food coming though, and the lizard was so in love with constantly stuffing his gullet that he could figure it out. Movement towards the food had gotten to be a true challenge, but of course he could do it still.

The lizard was currently working at stuffing his gut full to bursting with pizza, the grease splattering on his chins and cheeks as slice after slice was flung into his greedy maw and down into his stomach. His paws couldn’t move fast enough to shovel the food in, their mass jiggling and quaking with every minute motion that they had to undertake. His cheeks were impeding how wide he could open his jaw as well, their mass making lifting the top of his muzzle more and more work as time had gone on. He still persevered though, barely chewing up the whole slices he was putting into his jaws before taking huge gulps to get them down. His throat was constantly bulging with the swells of food that was going down it. It was a true show of gluttony, and he was reveling in it as he just sat in his own gravid mass and ate. And ate. And ate.

No thoughts really came into the reptiles head over the time that he spend sitting on a thing that had once been a sofa. He was usually too lost in the vice like grip of eating to form thoughts. The rare times that he was too full to not be thinking of eating, he was so aroused from stuffing himself to that point that he couldn’t form thoughts from the lust that riddled his mind. The lizard was utterly obsessed, and he knew it, but he didn’t do anything about it in the least. He couldn’t think back to when he hadn’t been this way, and he didn’t want to. He just was sure that his life had always been like this, and as he ate he wondered how he could have had a life before food. He never thought of the bills, of why he hadn’t left the house in longer than he could remember, of friends, of any companionship at all in fact. He was just alone with his food and his television, a noise which kept his mind from going completely insane. His rampant food addiction was his only real company thought, and the lizard reveled in it.

Sometime later he finished the pizza, or at least his paw hit the bottom of the final box out of the several he had. He couldn’t say that he was full, but he was certainly sated for a brief time. Enough food had passed through his gums to keep the deep rumbles that usually shook the rolling adipose from his shins to his chins at bay. Instead gurgles and groans came from deep within the abyss of the lizard. He lowered his grease-covered paws to the place where his sides had once been, putting them down as much as he could and letting out a loud groan as he felt that full feeling start to hit him. It was arousing, very much so, and somewhere buried deep in his rolls and folds of blubber he could feel one part of him hardening. He had not seen that part of him in ages, but he hadn’t seen much more than his cheeks in a while. Seeing anything aside from that involved looking down, and the collar of fat which circled his head along with the triplet chin which hug off of his wide maw made it more effort than he wanted to expend. Any effort aside from eating wasn’t something the lizard wanted to expend, nor did he usually have the energy to.

The TV going out cut into the lizard’s brain, bringing his vague awareness of anything that wasn’t food into the forefront. The reptile peered over his stomach and cheeks and looked at the TV, the blank, large screen staring its blackness right back at him. In that blackness he could see his own reflection, the little light that seeped in through the cracked blinds making it just bright enough. It was the first time in recent memory that the lizard had seen himself, and this kept his attention over thinking about the nap that inevitably came when he stuffed himself to the point he was. He was slightly taken aback, as much as one with the little bit of awareness he possessed could be of course. He had to wonder just where the fat had all come from, and where it was going to go if he kept up the pace of his consumption. More than that though, he was just stunned that he had let himself get so stinking big.

Starting at his swollen, bloated feet, the lizard began to scan himself. He could barely see the fat appendages, claws protruding out from sausage-like digits on the swollen things. His ankles were no better, vast balls of fat which rolled and sagged over the top of the lizard’s feet. No more of his legs were visible though, for just above those bloated ankles rested the massive amount of belly which was the lizard’s crowning achievement. It was a massive mass of fat, sagging down and around on all sides of him. It utterly dominated his figure too, taking it and making it something which was far more than a blob and into a sort of amorphous shape that no longer had any resemblance to a lizard. Rolls, folds, creases, and several other things just made the reptile stop and stare at that. He didn’t even both to look past his gut, he just reveled in the fat and features of his frame and stayed mesmerized by it. It took over the thoughts of food in his gut, and food going into his maw, and anything else like that. It was utterly life-altering to the reptile, and he could do nothing more than watch his work slowly jostle and roll around on itself in spite of the fact that the beast was staying still. The belly had a life of its own, and it just took over every aspect of the lizard’s mind, albeit the aspects that weren’t muddled by food.

The lizard continued to stare at his bulging gut, rolling over and over and over it with his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to watch it swell now, and that would involve feeding it more. He had already eaten, and was stuffed to the point that he could feel the beginnings of the start of a stomachache. This was not to say that he wasn’t ready and waiting to eat even more, but rarely did he ever get the drive to eat more. He could feel that drive building in him every second he found a new roll or crevice in his bloated being. His lovehandles made him hungry, the massive, sagging ‘W’ on the front of his gut made him ravenous, and the moobs which rested on the top shelf of his stomach made him so incredibly hungry that his gut, in spite of being as full as it was, growled out in hunger. He needed to eat more now, and yet he would have to get up to get more. It was effort, but he was willing to undertake it. He still had so much food to eat in his house, and his benefactor would get him more. Now that he had the drive to eat more too, he had to hope that his benefactor could keep up…

His addiction was just going to get worse.


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