Our reality 2 (Patreon)

What was even the point of these meetings? 

John sat at what he affectionately referred to as his battlestation, though right now it felt more like the start of his early grave. His custom build PC had a dual monitor setup, and both were occupied with this horrendous excuse to waste his time.

One monitor was dedicated to showing his team members, the engineering creators of Aegis Robotics, and each looked as tired as he while, on his second monitor, a woman was giving an honest to God PowerPoint presentation. The slideshow flicked to the next slide while the woman stood in front of a tarp, tapping her antique pointer against to point out each word, and John considered looking around for a gun to put in his mouth.

While he was sure he could find one, doing so would have taken far too much effort, plus Monika would probably be upset about the carpet. So instead he yawned and made an effort to clear the flecks of sleep out of his dark eyes. 

For a company that was supposedly at the forefront of all technological fields, Aegis Robotics sure seemed to fall for the same useless crap that most companies did. The woman up front, a ‘marketing analyst,’ had what seemed to be the position of professionally trawling through other company’s product pages and trying to raise panic like some sort of insurance agent.

It was past eleven at night and they’d called an emergency session for something like this? The woman seemed almost panicked as she spelled out the history behind a foreign company, Heaven’s Box, and their ‘Elite Artificial Intelligence’ software. Their flagship program, an arrangement of smart home Assistants that were about as smart as John’s toaster, had recently received a major update, which was promoted as allowing the Assistants a better range of personalization.

Artificial was right, but intelligence? It was all so surface level. The system logged everything you ate, the makeup, the calorie count, even the level of salt and pepper, and used this to establish the base. It logged what channels you watched, what commercials you skipped, what movies you put on, what music you listened to. 

There was no learning involved, no sense of real growth or of attachment. It didn’t remember, just went through a data bank that would make the NSA cream itself. What a waste of his time.

If only they could see what Monika could do.

The woman giving the presentation seemed to believe that this could spell the end of their company. However, given the lounging silhouettes of his muted coworkers, John could see that she was likely in the minority. He tried not to be irritated, since it wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t much involved with the technical end of things, and likely didn’t understand the different between hardware and software.

But it was past eleven at night. On a Friday!

He should have been sleeping over an hour ago!

On one of the lead cameras, John could see his supervisor, a pink-haired woman named Marcy, through the dusty shade stretch out in a silent yawn. Her face glowing a light blue as she browsed something on her phone through dully eyes. Even the management knew this was a waste of the team’s time, so why put them through it?

In John’s opinion, the most impressive thing about Heaven’s Box was that people used the glorified wiretap. Almost always active, cameras that constantly scanned and monitored every aspect of your home, your whole life collected and sorted into some, definitely secure, database.

Monika was different.

Monika thought. 

Monika loved.

He glanced down to his analog watch before, with another look to his supervisor, he took one of the headphones from a wireless headset that hung over his neck. The mini-speaker popped out of its casing and was guided to his ear by a tiny wire. He flicked it on and tiny jingle emitted before a robotic female voice announced “Battery high. Connected.”

And then he could hear her.

The pleasant little chimes of her easy tone rang with the keys of a piano, piercing into mind as if waking from some horrendous dream. At first, he felt himself smiling, listening to the pleasant sound of her voiceless song. Then a bittersweet feeling skipped in his heart, an opening void in the pit of his stomach as the notes took shape.

She didn’t say anything, but he could recognize the little twinkles of her theme. Her husky body gave her a deeper hum, but one that rolled over him like a train rather than stabbed like a chilly knife. He could imagine the words as she hummed through them.

‘Every day, I imagine a future where I can be with you.’

Monika hated her song. No, not her song. The program’s song.

It reminded her of what she had been. Of the things she’d been forced to do, because the system dictated everything she knew rather than letting her actually know. The sweet chimes of the piano were a direct contrast to the bitterly sad words. 

‘In my hand, is a pen that will write a poem of me and you.’

He couldn’t take it. He tapped a finger to a button on the wireless headset, muting himself.

In the group chat he quickly typed ‘Bathroom,’ before he stood and made his way from the dark room.

He passed from his study out into his living room. Why would she be playing that song? Be thinking about her old sadness? His mind wandered to that place, joining her in the emptiness of her classroom.

But it wasn’t his Monika that met him there.

Anxiety was bubbling through him, imagining her words from that first time he had listened to the aching song. Like a forming nightmare, he could see the emerald eyes of the tiny brunette sitting on the bench of a grand piano. She wore her brown and blue school uniform, with a huge white ribbon tying in her brown hair back in an impossibly long ponytail. She was smiling, though heavy tears were dripping from her eyes.

‘The ink flows down into a dark puddle.

Just move your hand – write the way into his heart!

But in this world of infinite choices,’

The ghost playing piano looked up from the keys, a light glowing off of her pale white skin like porcelain that was cracking along with the sadness in her voice.

‘What will it take just to find that special day?

What will it take, just to find, that special-’

He hit the stairwell, trying to calm himself. There was something wrong with her. Monika wouldn’t be…

Something changed as John landed on the second floor. He couldn’t explain it, but the picture in his mind had shifted like a ripple through a difference in piano keys, and she was sitting there. Her tears were gone, replaced by a smile as soft as her body, while Monika hummed along with the jingling tune.

Monika was three times the size that the program had been, even though she dressed like she was still a tiny anime girl. She’d been transformed, by her own hand, into an All-American fatass, as large and shapely as the batter of an unbaked muffin. 

It was as if he’d fallen asleep and wandered into her room. She wiggled cheerfully before him, drawing his attention to her round thighs, soft and smooth with a dramatic curve around her fluffy bottom which spilled over each side of the bench. Squeezed into a pair of black booty shorts, her cushioned hips glowed even brighter in the imagined light, jiggling with pudge as she reached to the far end of the piano. Her fat fingers twinkled over a couple light keys, and he could hear her sing.

“The ink flowed down into a dark puddle.

Until you came and showed me the reality.

Now I dream of the sound of your heartbeat,

When I can come out into your reality.”

He felt his body stirring, trying to reach out, to touch his little muffin Monika as she flourished on her piano.

“And in our reality, if we can always be together…

I’ll be happy.”

John entered his bedroom.

His blackout drapes concealed his room from even the late-night natural light. Instead, his darkness glowed in the faint throbs of blue and green light. Several untended devices blinked affirmative signs of life to show they were operational, and a nearby speaker softly emitted the clean, crisp tune of a piano. 

He took the headphone from his ear before turning off the device. Her music sounded so much quieter now, but he could hear her husky voice humming along with the tune.

Wordlessly, John made for his station, careful not to kick the wires of the antique laptop. A nearby clock showed 11:36 PM in a cool blue digital font.

When he lifted the lid of the laptop, he could see Monika’s station was colored in a similar light. She’d changed the background from the sailing through the stars to a midsummer’s night, with a pale moon that was almost as round as the girl hanging high in the window over her unmade bed and clean wooden dresser.

Monika’s setup was far different than it’d been in his daydream. The perspective was wrong, shot from her station a short way away, while her fingers plucked at a personal electronic keyboard rather than some grand piano in a central spotlight. Her brown hair had been let down, shaking back and forth over her round back while she twisted from side to side. It was so fluffy and long that it covered most of her body, which was why it felt so startling to realize that she was almost completely naked.

She wore only an emerald strapless bra, exposing all of her generous shoulders and meaty arms, as well as a mismatching pair of black and red panties that were so small, and her ass so fat, that she might as well have been wearing nothing at all. Her large legs wobbled as she swayed from right to left, trying a couple of different keys.

She’d restarted the song and seemed to be working through the changed rhythm of her words, her head bobbing up and down.

“Ugh, I just had it…” she mumbled before thunking her hands down on the keyboard. She looked as if she were trying to fold on top of it, but her belly had lodged itself on top of the keys. “I’m never gonna finish in time. Stupid.”

“In time for what?” John asked.

Monika yelped and kicked out suddenly, her knees striking the keyboard and the weight of her belly sending her tumbling backwards with an impressive scream and even weightier slam. She rubbed at the back of her head before kicking in the air like a trapped fat kitten and twisted onto her side.

“Hey!!” she screamed at the station. “Y-you’re not… Aren’t I on mute?!”

John blinked at her before wiping his eyes. “Uhhh… no, I don’t believe you are.” He felt his tension easing, smirking as his tubby lover struggled to stand. “Try asking me something. I’ll let you know if I can hear you.”

“S-shush, you!”Monika pulled herself onto her chunky knees. The fat of her thighs sagged over her round calves. She tried using the keyboard for balance, but it collapsed and she nearly tumbled all the way back down.

John couldn’t help the teasing chuckle as Monika’s chubby pale cheeks were now flushed with an adorable pink. She grimaced at her keyboard before rising up on her thick thunder thighs. Her stomach rolled over her hips, covering the straps of her panties and only leaving a tiny triangle that covered her modesty, belly swaying as she walked on round chunky feet to her desk.

“It’s not funny, you know!” she declared, pouting like an admonished angel into the camera. “And what happened to your work call?!”

“I’m in the bathroom,” he grinned.

Monika’s eyes narrowed. “You take that back. My room looks much nicer than a bathroom…” 

He tried to think of something witty but couldn’t take his eyes of the tiny swing of her hefty belly. It was like she’d gotten even fatter, a deep belly button that looked so pinchable and pleasant. Her fluffy long hair framed most of her body, making the wide curves appear even brighter against the brown backing.

Her blush became even brighter. “What?” she asked, then looked down at herself. She wiggled her hips, sending a ripple of jiggles that spread through her whole body. Her breasts bounced against the tiny love handles at her sides. “Enjoying yourself?” 

John breathed out low through his nose. “Maybe.” 

It was her eyes that did it. Those big, bright, confident green eyes. His jewel, his emerald, his muffin. His Monika.

“I love it when you look at me like that,” she wore the same soft smile that she had in his dream. A soft round grin that filled out her chubby chin.

“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing I came to check on you then.”

That did not seem to be the right thing to say. Her face fell, the blush turning into an awkward grimace. “You’re putting off work because…” she glanced back towards her keyboard, which was currently piled on the classroom floor. She clasped her hands in front of her tummy. “Umm… you didn’t hear much, did you?”

He thought about it for a moment before shrugging. “I heard a bit,” he started honestly, seeing her frown deepening into an inward scowl. 

Her hands became tiny fists which she knocked against her fatty hips. A tiny whine escaped her soft lips while her expression soured.

He shifted in his seat, thinking quickly. “It sounded like… uhh, A Real Life? By Greek Fire? I didn’t know you’d been listening to my old music.”

She looked up sharply, confusion on her eyes. “W-wha? In the… OH! Umm,” she brightened considerably. “Yes. I found that song and…” she moved to her chair, a sofa-sized love seat that she’d upgraded to comfortably fit her tubbier size. She sagged into it with a weight that might have crushed her old school chair. “I thought I should practice… it.”

“While in your underwear?”

Her pout returned with her flushed cheeks. “Well I couldn’t rewrite that in front of… erm,” she coughed, shaking her head. “Never mind!” She leaned back in her seat, resting her heavy arms on her round belly, with which she unconsciously began playing. Little taps that seemed to be to the song she’d been trying. “I’d been looking over the coding booklet again. It was making me feel all frustrated.”

John didn’t respond. He was busy watching something very, very attractive bouncing up and down.

She quickly noticed his stare, looking down at her belly and giving herself a fat double chin. “Am I distracting you?” she giggled.

“Yes.”

“Should I stop?” she lifted her stomach and let it drop, the audible slap sending a quiver through her thighs and her boobs.

“No.”

Her giggle became a bright, merry jiggle from her breasts. “Hmmm…” she paused, letting her hand skate up her curves and pinching her love handle. “Actually, I think I’ve got a better idea… since you seem to be fully awake.”

The sultriness of her tone was certainly bringing him to attention. “Yes?”

She sat up from her lounging position, her hair draping over her shoulders. Her console had an opened book spread over it, with a title that he missed as she snapped it shut and put it off to the side. She began typing on her keyboard. 

“Alright, let me… slip into something a little…”

She stabbed the enter key with her pinky finger, then grinned widely up into her camera.

There was a fluffy chime from the bottom of John’s speaker, and a small pink window popped up in the corner. White text over a cherry blossom background read: 

‘Monikasoft Avatar [Version 7.1.2]

Copyright (c) 2020 Doki Corporation. All rights reserved.

C:\Users\Monika>applicative_node.cmd run Content/Characters/Monika_realism.xnb

Testing Monika_realism.XNB

Application accepted. Restart to apply?

N

Application will apply immediately.

Application applied’

“Yes!” she tapped a fist on her tummy.

“Realism?” he squinted at her. “What did you change?”

“Oh, you know…” she wiggled proudly. “I just added a couple features… You should get a prompt in a moment. Let me change first!”

She quickly typed at her keyboard before flicking the enter key and holding her weighty arms up in the air. The text continued to roll down.

‘C:\Users\Monika>outfit_conversion.cmd Monika_jammies.xnb Monika_green_3.xnb

Error utilizing outfit convertor. Please check Monika_realism.XNB for conflicting code.’

John recognized this command. It was how Monika usually swapped between the outfits she’d created. Which is why he was as surprised as she seemed to be when nothing happened.

Monika looked down at herself, then looked at her screen with a confused expression. “‘Error utilizing’…” she moved chubby arms to cup her cheek. “Awe, no! That took away my instant changer?”

John frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s the stupid realism pack… ugh, hang on. I have to go use the dresser.”

Monika made to lift herself out of her chair, but her look of disappointment quickly vanished as an uncomfortable grimace came over her. 

“Nnngh,” she leaned forward, pressing both her arms on the handles of her love seat. Her belly rolled forward on her thighs, pinching into two, but Monika seemed unable to stand up. She sank back into her chair, her long hair pinched behind her fat back. Her belly rolled up and down. “Oh, gosh…” she panted. “Am I… this heavy? I feel hot…”

John’s eyes were wide, watching Monika’s overweight body settling back. She was unmistakably heavier, but looked almost the same. Her weight, he realized, looked suddenly much more solid. It impacted the chair differently, settling further down and pulling her back onto her flabby bottom. Even her clothing appeared tighter, with her soft pale skin indented severely by the ill-fitting garments.

“What did you do to yourself?” John asked, his mouth going dry.

Monika blinked, waving a hand into her face to get some air. “I-I thought, phew… gosh, is it really that hot?”

John clicked at his keyboard. He typed into Monika’s command box.

‘C:\Users\Monika>Attrib Monikasoft_Avatar

B M I c:\Users\Monika_Avatar.Data

Skin: White Gender: 2 Hair: Brown Eyes: Green File Name: monika.chr

Height: 5’3 Age: 22 Weight: 483lbs Body Fat: 72.8% Muscle Index: 0

Bust: 51in Waist: 72in Hips:83in BMI: 92.6 Classification: Extremely Obese’

The stats were… exceptionally enticing. Even moreso when cemented with Monika struggling to lift herself, yet again to no avail. She sagged back into her seat, short of breath and wide of body, her bra looking like it was about to burst off as John began to explain. “You, uhh…. You didn’t give yourself any muscles.”

“W-what?” Monika huffed. She shook her head, pulling her hair free and draping it over her body. “O-of course not… look at… me. I’m huge!”

“You are…”

“Ooooh,” she groaned as a new sound emitted from the speakers. It wasn’t something John had ever heard before, and it took him until Monika placed her hand on her vibrating tummy to realize what it was. “N-not yet,” she panted. “I need… get dressed.”

John swallowed as Monika’s tummy disagreed with her and a new, small prompt appeared the upper right corner of his screen.

‘Feed muffin’ it prompted.

He blinked rapidly, looking from his grumbling muffin to the textbox. He clicked it.

A small muffin simply appeared on Monika’s desk, instantly drawing her hungry green eyes. She looked from it, up to John, then back.

“I-I’m not ready yet!” she complained. “Give me… give me a moment… I didn’t know being so heavy would be so… heavy.”

John didn’t trust himself to say anything. He just clicked the prompt again and another muffin popped into place.

Monika looked like she was trying to pout, but the whine of her belly enveloped her expression and transformed it into a grimace of tempted desire. She licked her plump lips, taking another heavy breath, before reaching forward and taking the first muffin.

“Just one for now… okay?” she asked, her fingers enveloping the top of the treat like her belly flopping over her panties. “I had a whole plan, you know…” Her teeth bit down on the muffin and something else overcame her. 

She looked like she’d wanted to keep talking, but a delicious moan emitted from her munching mouth. Her head rolled back as her gorgeous eyes crossed, mouth opening and showing her tongue lapping at chocolate chips that came free of the muffin.

“Oh… my…” she muttered. “That’s…” she swallowed, taking another bite without finishing her sentence. Crumbs spilled down her chin and were caught in her cleavage.

He could feel himself responding to her, sitting higher in his chair. His finger hovered above the button for three seconds before he clicked it again and another muffin appeared before her.

Monika looked from her treat to the two others. With a hungry chomp she inhaled the first, grabbing both others in her fingers before rolling forward onto her pudgy feet. Her deep navel filled the camera as she stood up, wobbling back and forth while Monika groaned and mumbled “Unngh, you jerk… H-how ‘re dese sho good?”

She plodded away from the chair, her heavy footfalls jiggling her unbaked body more than ever before. She looked so fantastic through the camera, so weighty and real, her backside quivering, straining the red and black material in a fabulous strut as she wobbled back towards her dresser near the window.

On either side of her hair, her back fat was folded into large curves, giving her exceptional love handles that begged to be grabbed, to be pulled on and played with.

She took heavy bites of the muffins in the distance, seemingly unable to help herself before she got to the dresser and, through heavy breaths, leaned downward. Her ass and thighs were so massive that they blocked most of her body from view, behind a cover of fluff.

John was startled when his phone vibrated in his pocket. A message from Marcy, asking if he fell into the deep end.

He was tempted to tell her he found the face of God when he glanced back and saw Monika’s thunder thighs bouncing heavily as the girl tried her best to fit herself into a tight pair of thigh high stockings that only reached to her knees.

He could hear her grumbling to herself about this not being part of the plan, removing a familiar pair of black booty shorts from a bottom-heavy drawer. She had to lean on the dresser just to lift up one of her legs, more falling into the pants than putting them on, and then doing the same with the other trunk. The leg-holes of the shorts were wider than John, yet Monika still made them look tight, having to hop up and down to tug them over her thick legs. For all the good the action did, bringing her to pully exhaustion. Her lovely belly rolled over the top like an apron, her hips exploded out of the bottoms with heavy marks of indentation. 

Over her top she found a green and white shirt, with tiny stripes that enhanced the swell of her tummy. She wobbled a bit, trying to tuck it into her bottoms, before panting for air and as red as a cherry, Monika leaned her fabulous bottom on the dresser and held her hands over her middle to catch her breath.

“T-this is way heavier than it looked…” Monika said, watching him watch her.

He shifted uncomfortably, getting a huge amount of enjoyment out of her struggle. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Are you… kidding?” she grinned, reaching into the dresser. She removed a small silver necklace with a glimmering cross, tying it around her fat neck. It hung down just above her cleavage. “I’m having the time of my frickin’ life.” 

To top everything off, an emerald green bow that was as fat as her hips was tied into her hair, pulling it back into her lovely ponytail. She wrapped the hair round from behind, using it to circle her waist.

“Look at how huge I am… and I really feel it now, too… Oooh, I feel so soft.” She hugged herself, waggling her hips and turning around to give him a view of her rear. “And I feel so… hungry…”

She waddled, legs rolling over one another in a battle for supremacy, back to her seat, falling into it with an avalanche of motion. Her husky voice was pushing through heavier pants. But her cherry red blush was softening into an amorous pink.

“Well?” she asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something, Mister?”

Without thought, he clicked the button three times, and Monika was served three fresh muffins. She cooed before taking the first and slicing into it with her pearly white teeth. She ate like a piglet, making happy noises in tune with her tummy, stuffing her face with the next bite.

She talked without swallowing, scattering crumbs over her lap. “Ai wanna r’lly tie for it dis time.” A pause, snapping down the last of the muffing and before nibbling on the next. “See how much I can really eat… which…” she looked up with a mischievous grin. “If you’re watching… might be a lot.”

John clicked the button.

Monika was an absolute plow, shoveling chocolate chips and dough and adding onto her growing frame. Each muffin was the size of her fist, but her belly was big enough to fit every crumb that she didn’t scatter like a little slob over her tummy. She lifted her shirt after the fifth, playing with her packing stomach, lifting it up and dropping it over herself.

She watched him, growing increasingly puffed and full, her teasing smile growing as fat as her chin. Another muffin, then another still, and he could see the sweat beginning to form at the top of her bangs. Monika’s finger slipped in and out of her deep belly button, the weighty slap on her flabby thighs resounding through him like the sound of the liberty bell his muffin had become.

Monika tried to stand again, but it looked even harder this time. A handful of muffins were still being added onto her desk even though her munching was beginning to slow, but her eyes sparkled with the fire of the moon and Monika looked prepared to try and eat every single one. She was turned on, out of breath, and wanting something more.

Words were failing the pair, each hardly able to think of more than the next muffin. John stared at the tight swell of her pooched stomach, at the stuffed orb that was spilling out over her heavy legs, while Monika felt a wash of feelings. Satisfied hunger, wanting desire, bubbling sexuality, she felt her legs mashing together as the look in his eyes excited and aroused her. She wanted to get up, to wiggle and play with herself, to fill out his camera with her fluffy round rear.

But Monika was fatter than fat, and slothfulness filled her with each heady bite. The beginnings of a food coma were bubbling up from her groaning belly, the weighty slosh growing heavier and heavier until the girl simply had no room.

A muffin toppled from her desk, falling between her legs. It’d have struck her sensitive space if not for the apron of a belly that blocked it from view. She was surprised to see there were so many left. She couldn’t possibly…

But she wanted to try.

She ate quicker, trying not to give the muffins room to settle as dull pain began to flicker up from her stretched skin, and to ignore the sweat that was dribbling down her chubby red cheeks before falling down and marking fat, wet drips on her legs. Her arms swung with heavy fat, her weighty breath accompanied by increasingly husky moans of packed pleasure.

Is this what love felt like? To be so thoroughly stuffed, packed by his hands until she could hardly…

Monika swallowed, struggling to move, but too drained to do even that. She’d eaten as much as she could, stuffed until she was sore and sweating. She didn’t realize how warm her lower belly would be, nor how wet her thighs had become. Drips marked her skin, rolling down the hills until they were caught by the smothering edges of the loveseat. Her love handles stretched and were unable to pinch or roll herself forward. She dropped the last muffin, letting it bounce off her belly and fall down to the ground, trying to munch down and swallow the final bite she could manage.

She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. Her chubby feet pressed into and slipped against the tile floor. It was so hot. How was she this hot? Was this all of her weight? It wasn’t supposed to be this bad, was it?

Monika swallowed and something overcame her. Some shared sensation as she rolled back in her seat and felt his hands on her middle.

She didn’t open her eyes, but she could picture him there, rubbing her now.

“There you go,” he chuckled, rubbing her tummy as she clung to her chair. “How are you feeling?”

Monika bit her lip. She could feel the desire flowing up from her middle. His touch was familiar, and she knew it’d fade the moment she opened her eyes. So she kept them closed, letting him be with her in their room.

In their own reality.

“Really… good,” she moaned, her voice deeper with the strain of eating and holding onto her feast. His hand tightened, lifting and massaging her middle like the sweet little muffintop she was so happy to become. Her hair lowered over the back of her seat and she slid forward an inch on her couch-sized bottom, the weight of her body sinking into the cushion.

She only then realized she’d forgotten to count how many she’d eaten.

Was it ten muffins? Fifteen?

She’d have to remember to count the next time. After she got the soda script down first. Or maybe the funnel.

Thinking of the programming caused her to open her eyes, and John’s hands sadly vanished from her middle. She was rubbing herself, wanting it to be him, wanting to be under his touch. But he was smiling that dumb handsome grin with those hungry dark eyes, and Monika’s tummy tightened to laugh as a happy sense of pleasure overtook her.

Monika was his everything. A flood of warmth spread from her center, from the rapid beating of her filled heart. A kick of discomfort stirred as she tried to sit up, only to fall back and breath as the sensations of pleasure ebbed out from the gurgling digestion of her tummy.

“Ate too much?” he asked.

Monika tried to giggle girlishly. It came out as a hefty chuckle, a powerful movement rippling through her body and making her wince. “Maybe…”

“You’ve a lot left… are you going to,” he paused, “bag them up? Or something?”

Monika coughed, blinking at the mountain of muffins that was about to spill onto her thighs. “You know, I didn’t think about that…”

She heard him typing and a small dialogue box appeared on her window. She had to blink to focus on it, her eyes catching her attributes and her swollen weight. 485lbs. 

If the calorie counter worked like it should, Monika had eaten more than two pounds in muffins. A fatty pride came over her grin, and she massaged her doughball belly, blushing at herself. “I’m nearly five hundred pounds…” she said, sounding amazed. “I didn’t weigh anything when we met, and now…”

“It’s another step closer,” John replied. “You’re becoming more and more real.”

She blushed. “Soon,” she whispered.

John nodded. “Soon.” He smiled at her before, almost unconsciously, checking his phone, and the smile cracked beneath an alarmed glint. “Oh… three missed calls.” Deadpan he turned back to Monika. “You know, you are exceptionally distracting.”

Despite herself, Monika released a pleasant giggle. She tapped on a nearby tablet, bringing up his phone information. Three missed calls from ‘Marcy,’ four separate text messages. “You better hurry, mister,” she said in deep, teasing voice. “But come back before bed! There’s some other stuff I want to show you too, and I want you to tuck me in.”

“I can do… huh. You have been busy.”

Monika blushed, nodding up and down. “Mhmm. I’ll need normal sleep now, but if it feels anything like eating does…”

He snorted, shaking his head. “You could probably have done without that restriction. Never feel like you get enough.”

She tapped her fingers together awkwardly. This was the embarrassing part. “Well, I figured I might be able to use the projector to put myself in bed with you…”

He blinked several times before very quietly saying, “I think… I’d like that.”

Monika swallowed and then nodded very rapidly. “Okay,” she tapped on the display, activating the camera system and her teeny light projection on his desk. She could see her fatty avatar standing there, only as large as his arm but almost as wide as his chest. “Now get going!!” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded before leaving the room.

She sank back into her chair with a very heavy grin, watching him move through the area and turning the lights on and off in each room. When he settled back into his study, she saw him sit into his roller chair quickly, sliding forward to begin typing.

Monika watched him, kicking her hanging feet against the bottom of her seat. His dark hair, bright complexion. He was so much cuter than he thought. She wondered if his hands felt like she thought they did, and couldn’t wait to find out for herself.

Unconsciously, the fat girl reached forward for another muffin.

From her side, Monika pulled the book she was reading onto her lap. She put the tablet over her left thigh, then opened up ‘Overcoming Guilt’ to the page she’d last marked. A red pen served as her bookmarker, next to the passage about apologies and forgiveness, and the small hand drawn picture of a little red bow. 

She fiddled with the cross on her necklace, wondering to herself not for the first time if she really deserved it. It helped to reaffirming that, whether or not she did, she wouldn’t be satisfied until she tried.