Published: April 28th 2020, 12:00:09 am
I’ll try to have something else out for you $12 tier members by the end of the month. I wanted to do a deathfeederism contract, but I got too excited working on Bad Habits. I’ll try to get it done, but here’s an exclusive sneak peek of some of the next chapter (unedited) of Bad Habits.
Obviously, Oliver can’t get up and get the door himself. He’d collapse immediately under his own weight. Fortunately, he asked Josh to leave the door unlocked before going to work because Oliver has every intention of ordering delivery all day behind Josh’s back. “Hold on!” Shouts Oliver toward the general direction of the door. He glances around for something, anything to cover himself up with at the moment. The only thing that will fit him, the bed sheet, is discarded on the floor with an empty cake container and several empty fast food bags from an earlier order. “Fuck it,” he sighs heavily. Then, looking back at door he shouts “Come in.”
The door nob turns exposing a man in a red polo, jeans, and a hat with a cartoon pig carrying a stack of five pizzas. Oliver realizes a fan must have sent him a party feast from Porky’s Pizza Parlor. Josh would be pissed to know some sick fuck on the internet is sending the massive man pizzas.
The man’s eyes bug out of his head for a brief moment seeing the size of Oliver, especially naked in bed. He was sued to answering the door for morbidly obese people, but Oliver takes the cake for the biggest. He’d never open the door to find someone so big and shameless enough to be naked with chocolate frosting on his thick tits.
An enormous pile of molten belly covers much of the bed in front of him. The lard pushes his legs wide apart and strains against the reinforced bed. His thighs and knees are completely buried on sweaty fat rolls covered in red stretch marks. Sitting atop his giant belly are the biggest tits the delivery driver has ever seen on anyone, let alone a man. Olive is uselessly pinned to his oversized bed.
The delivery driver tries to compose himself after such a sight. “ P-uhm... the p-pizza party special for a...ahem...Mr. Oliver Dives?” He asks knowing the entire order is for the beast of a man and not an army of company.
Oliver’s face lights up, excited as his stomach gurgles as if he doesn’t spend his days eating.
“That’s me,” Oliver drools.
“Where do you want them?” The delivery driver asks still shocked at the whale stuck in his bed.
“You can just sit the stack beside me on this table. And go ahead and put one of the boxes on my lap...erm...what’s left of it. My belly? Place it on my belly, please. I am starving,” Oliver asks over the young man.
The man does what Oliver requests of him. “Does it say who sent them?” asks Oliver opening the first box before stacking two slices on top of one another and shoving them into his mouth greedily.
The delivery driver attempts to look away, but he can’t help but notice Oliver devour the slices in a few bites. “I don’t have that information. Even if I knew who sent the pizza, I couldn’t share that information with you anyway,” the man nervously tells Oliver.
“I should be going,” shyly says the delivery driver pulling out a receipt for Oliver to sign.”
“Wait! Please stay! I’ll pay you a giant tip if you stick around until I finish the pizzas,” coming up with a plan. He can’t let Josh see the stack of boxes or he’ll get another lecture about his weight. “I just need you to stay long enough for me to finish and throw the boxes away for me. And maybe the other trash I created in my day long binge. Please!” Oliver begs like a child with pizza in his mouth.
“You want me to stay and do chores for you instead of my job?” asks the delivery driver with disgust.
“It’s because I have to hide the evidence. My ex-friend, Josh, takes care of me now even though I don’t really care for him anymore. He gets so upset when I pig out,” explains Oliver.
“How big was that tip again?” asks the delivery driver contemplating his options.
“Let’s say... twenty bucks?” Oliver suggests. The delivery driver thinks about it more. His average tips are about five dollars per house. The poor obese man looks like he can eat a bunch of pizzas in a short amount of time making the tip worth it, thinks the delivery driver. “I’ll sweeten the deal. You can take pictures of me,” Oliver sweats eating another double decker slice.
“Why would I do that?” the delivery driver blushes.
“I don’t know. I’m the biggest person most people have ever seen. I see the way you look at me. Jerk off to them? Sell them and make more money? Show them to your friends and tell the story of the pathetically obese man you had to help. Do whatever you want with them. I don’t have much. I just seriously need your help, please...what’s your name?”
“Jared, sir.”
“Jared, I’m begging you to help me out here.”
“F-fine... I guess I can help you,” Jared stammers.