Sonny did not notice when it started, but after a while the women again increased the amount of food he was served. They weren't as subtle this time, merely setting out larger portions and bigger spreads each time he sat down to eat.

"Here you go, Sonny," a woman declared when she put ten pizzas within his reach.

"Dinner is served," he was told as a dozen burritos and ten tacos appeared on the table.

"Eat up, Sonny," two women instructed as they served him fifteen hamburgers with twenty chicken strips and a vat overflowing with french fries. Even after the feast of each meal, they plied him with food.

"Try this."

"Made these extra..."

"Have a bite."

"Just a little something..."

"Sonny, check this out!"

And he never turned down any of it. Gluttony had become his normal life; eating was his entire existence.

Receiving vast amounts of fatty foods every hour of every day, Sonny's body ballooned. He sprouted fourth, fifth, and sixth chins that sagged down onto his chest while his cheeks grew bloated and floppy. His arms swelled with fat; his upper arms dripped with flab that flapped in the air, his lower arms looking like hams as they dimpled his elbows and tapered to his wrists, where his fingers had become less usable due to their plumpness. For a while, he'd kept company with some of the women whose tits were massive, but now Sonny's breasts were easily the biggest on the island; They were like huge water balloons, flopping halfway down his body and curving to the outside just above the nipples; they bulged out so much around and under his arms that, combined with his arm fat, he was unable to rest his arms at his sides.

Sonny had grown a vast belly. It spread wider and wider and further and further- it was a rolling, rippling ocean of soft fat. It stretched in front of him farther than he could step, multiple feet past the reach of his arms, so he never entered a room before his stomach. It hung past his knees and made running mechanically impossible for him, though he'd given it up long before anyway. One massive roll surged in front of him the furthest and the lowest; another huge roll stuck out a bit straighter than his gut's overall downward droop. The third roll was a bit irregular, blobbing into a half-fold at the sides and bending downward toward the front; it was a kind of shelf for his breasts, a dropoff from which they plunged down the slope of his gut.

His hips had joined the drooping, merging with his belly and making him 2/3 as wide as he was tall. His thighs were as wide individually as both thighs of the average island woman when she pressed her legs together- wider, actually, and they sagged over his knees in the front while also drooping onto the backs of his knees, making him bow-legged as he plodded along. Meanwhile, his calves were wider than his thighs used to be, and they blotted out his ankles as they drooped onto his fat, flopping feet. Behind him, his back fat had bloated so much that he no longer had a straight back; instead, it was a slope that grew shallower as more flab wrapped around from his waist. A slab of folded fat encircled his lower back, and it drooped just like a belly roll, but didn't get any farther- it rested on the broad, spongy shelf of Sonny's upper ass. His huge bottom actually bulged out at a slight angle because it was so fatty, sticking a foot behind him in two hairy bubbles bigger and rounder than his belly had once been. It curved and drooped downward, actually folding over and sagging halfway down the back of his thighs. When he waddled, his entire backside swung back and forth in a wide arc; he had to be careful when he turned because the momentum of his bottom as it surged could tip him sideways.

The women had raised all the chairs because it was hard for him to get up from lower seats. They brought out some of his food on raised trays because his belly kept him from moving close enough to the table to get at everything there.

Sonny crammed a hamburger into his mouth, barely chewing one bite before he took another; he pushed the last bit past his lips and chewed, chins quivering and slapping together. He took a bite of another burger before the last one was completely swallowed, while he reached down with his fat free hand and scooped up a palm overflowing with french fries. He forced them all into his mouth at once, chewing with his mouth open so he could fit more in. When they were swallowed he gobbled up the rest of the burger as fast as he could, reaching for more french fries with his free hand again. Gulping down the burger, he pushed the wad of french fries into his mouth, their tips sticking out of his open lips as drool surged down the valleys between his cheeks and chins. One french fry slipped out of his open maw, plopping down into his right breast. "Unnnnhhfff," he mumbled desperately, his fat quaking as he fidgeted in place.

"Hold on, Sonny, I got it," Susan said, plucking the fry from its cushion and sticking it back in Sonny's open mouth. She held up a burger next, his twenty-third, and pressed it gently into his face as he ate it; she curled his fingers around another, and he lifted his hand to his lips to eat the very last of his lunch.

Sonny sank and reclined, settling back into his own fat. His stomach, inches from the ground, began to tremble. "UUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP!!!!!!!" Sonny's cheeks fluttered as he belched, and his lower belly bounced about.

Smiling, one of the women at the grill rested her arm on Sonny's love handles. "I do believe he liked it," she remarked.

"Ummm," Sonny murmured, his voice deep and slightly muffled. He talked less these days, since it wore him out to breathe that much and to move his vocal chords inside his blubber-wrapped neck. Reaching down his side, he couldn't quite make it to his lower roll, so he just curled his fingers under his next-lowest belly roll, rubbing the soft, tender skin beneath the folded fat. He then noticed his bladder was pressing him, deep beneath his acres of fat. He flailed his fat arm toward Susan. "Gotta up," he grunted.

"Ooh, hold on," she said, ducking down and draping his arm around her shoulder. The other woman present did the same on his other side, and together they tried to rise up and take the morbidly obese man with them. They panted and grunted, pushing with all their might, but he would not budge; Sonny was too weak to give them any real help. "He's really progressed well," she remarked as she shoved.

"He's grown- oof!- so stately," the other woman said.

"Gotta up," Sonny heaved, a bit more desperately. His feet waggled around.

"Hold on, Sonny," Susan said as she pushed up again. "We need more people."

"Hey!" the woman from the grill called past the counter. "Could someone give-"

"Uhhhhh.... mehhh," Sonny breathed, sounding defeated. His fat belly surged a little wider as he loosened himself. "Ahhhh..." he breathed. The bottom of the wicker chair started to drip, and the sharp scent of urine wafted from beneath Sonny's paunch.

"Awww, Sonny," Susan declared, giving up and removing shoulders from his armpit. "We were going to have you up soon. Couldn't you have waited just a bit longer?"

"Ehhh...." he groaned lazily, "hadda... needed... pee."

"Well, we have to clean you up now," the other woman said, going to the back for a washcloth. "So just relax for a bit; you can't leave before we wipe your tinkle off you."

"Yep..." Sonny whispered, resting his arms on his belly, taking comfort in the stillness of his heavy body.