Look at me—look at what you’ve done. Every inch of my body, every soft, wobbling pound is proof of your relentless need to feed and fatten me beyond control. I used to have restraint, but now? Now, I’m nothing but an insatiable, gluttonous sow—my belly spilling over my lap, my thighs sagging over my knees, wrapped in lingerie that once hung loose but now strains against the sheer weight of my greed. You’ve made me this way—heavy, helpless, utterly consumed by my hunger, my need to grow, my desire to be your perfect, overfed pig.