Dying of Obesity 3

Before you began I need to remind everyone that this is 18+ material, pretty gross, and not all FAs/Feeders are going to like this. Also Profanity. You've been warned.

Anyway sorry for not posting these things sooner but school finals hit and the college students among you can attest to that.

Another quick note here's Parts One and Two:
Part One: http://bbwsinthewild.blogspot.com/2016/02/dying-of-obesity.html
Part Two: http://bbwsinthewild.blogspot.com/2016/04/dying-of-obesity-2.html

For those who have forgotten:
Ethnicity: White
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 671 Pounds
Bodytype: Heavy Pear
Age: 29

I dropped the boxes onto the cart and slammed the van door. This had rapidly become one of my favorite deliveries. I've been here in between posts but most aren't worth reporting. Most of the time she's tucked in bed covered in layers of sheets with only her face showing watching TV. At her weight breathing is it's own challenge and she more then likely tires easily. Her CNA, a loud mouthed skinny guy, who probably doesn't appreciate her and treats her like a zoo animal, usually deals with me.

But today I turned up when he wasn't there. A muffled voice wheezed out "Come in" and I entered the smelly cave that was her room and had my mind blown. She was laying partially back on the futon surrounded by pillows. A stained sheet was draped over her body and she was surrounded by junk food, soda, and debris from her food orgy. Below the sheet running to clear plastic bag was a tube. It was a urinary catheter. I'd never seen her with one before, at least not an obvious one. She ignored me stuffing her face with the food around her. Even as I watched she wiped a flabby hand on the sheet and reached for some pringles.

Because that's what it was I realized. This woman was an addict. I mean I knew that intrinsically she was addicted to comfort food. Her size alone confirmed that. But now I knew it was more serious then that. The food surrounding her was her entire life. It was literally the same as Heroin or Crack Cocaine. She was physically dependent on this food to the same extent an addict goes into withdrawal without their high. The look on her face, sweaty, a small smile, no pain,  half closed eye lids... Yeah she was an addict getting her fix.

I finished placing the stuff on the floor and looked at her. The room stunk of her body odor, feces, urine, microwave food, and medicine. She took a gulp of Fanta and took a brief break for air. I approached her asking her to sign. Still taking deep breaths she rapidly signed. Her eyes were crusty her face pale and covered in crumbs. Below the sheets the massive mounds of her destroyed body, destroyed by her addiction, jiggled as she moved.

The smell of feces was much more intense up close. As I left I realized she gone on herself probably on one of the bed pads included in this order. Doubtless she didn't care anymore. To her the addiction she needed, the one that fuels our sex drives, had alienated her from the rest of humanity. She was stuck in a shit building, with shitty people, cared for by a shitty CNA, sitting in her own shit. And she was sitting here, probably one of those "My 600lbs life" people who hate their weight unable to hold back her addiction. For it she sat in her own feces with a tube up her vagina and in her nose. And while she had the comfort of food, like all addicts, she didn't care.