Mass Malfunction pt3
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"I SLAVE ALL DAY OVER A HOT INDUSTRIAL OVEN, AND NOW YOU SAY YOU'RE NOT HUNGRY?" 8 whined, shoving a large box of Smak Kakes at her belly as if to bypass her mouth entirely.
Zeela actually hadn't said anything, but only because she was busy chewing a cupcake. When wasn't she? The robots supplied her with an unending, jaw-aching stream of pastries. "Ish not like that," Zeela's protest speckled her tits with crumbs. She chewed more and swallowed. "I have another one in my hand that I was planning on eating."
"ONLY ONE? YOU EAT LIKE A BIRD." 8 kept pushing the box of Kakes against her huge bumper of a gut. "PLEASE, HAVE THESE. YOU'RE WASTING AWAY."
She certainly didn't need a guilt trip to be sold on more Smak Kakes. This was getting irritating. "Stop doing that. You're going to mush up the ones in front. Here, fine- I'll take them."
"THANKS. YOU KNOW ME- I WORRY." 8 extended its arms to deposit its cargo on the wobbly shelf of her bosom and left, presumably to get more.
Each time she opened a full box was her favorite part of the day. Zeela paused with it in front of her, forced herself to admire the orderly rows of Kakes waiting beyond the cellophane window, enjoyed the butterfly sensation in her stomach, the anticipatory mouth-watering. And then the lid flew open. And then the smell of fresh cakes filled her nostrils- sweeter and more deliciously concentrated than the ambient aroma of the bakery. Her restraint fled in an instant- she had to have them! Working her way from bottom left corner to top right in a serpentine pattern, thirty-six Kakes dwindled to zero.
The way the weight of the box of Kakes added to her already considerable bulk no longer registered in Zeela's brain. That didn't mean it wasn't happening. Each binge widened her waist, grew her hips, filled her breasts so that they stretched her tenacious bra ever tighter. Maybe the changes meant only a fraction of a centimeter increase in the circumference of her legs, but they were constant changes, adding up to create something formidable. Zeela's new body was the seductive promise of limitless empty calories made available by processed food, the smothering of the deep-set human fear of famine and hunger. Here was Plenty.
There was a familiar bump at stomach level. Right on time, Zeela thought, licking frosting off the fingers of her gloves. "IF YOU NEVER EAT YOU'RE GOING TO BLOW AWAY IN THE WIND."