Time to diet?
I've gotten so fat it's out of control. I'm heavier than I've ever been. I'm almost at the limit for my scale (350lbs). None of my clothes fit. I'm out of shape and out of breath. My belly enters a room before I do. I am addicted to sweets and carbs. I'm soft, coddled, and spoiled. I can't lose the weight by myself. I need to be broken and humiliated like the fat pig I am.
Diet: I need a STRICT diet to lose all this blubber. No more sweets, junk, sodas, or carbs for this fatty. Only plain salads and water from here on out. Of course, it's not fair to expect YOU to give up YOUR treats because I'm a spoiled piggy with no self control. So they'll still be in the house. And you'll be tempting me. Eating them in front of me. Stuffing your face with all of my favorite things and mocking me for not being allowed to have even a bite. Bragging that your trim figure can afford the extra calories while a blubbery pig like me can never have them again if I want to keep the weight off (you don't notice, after a couple months of this, your own waistline starting to expand. Yet).
Exercise: Stuff me into workout clothes two sizes too small and take me to your gym. My belly should be hanging over my shorts and under my shirt. My shorts should be digging into my soft, overfed hips and my shirt should fit like a crop top. And then make me run on a treadmill in public, with my soft jiggly fat wobbling with every step I take. Mock me for getting out of breath so easily. Sit on the sidelines watching the pathetic show, skipping your own workout to do so. (You don't notice how your own workouts, when you can be bothered to do them, are getting harder. Yet).
Discipline: the most important part. Set me unrealistic expectations and goals and punish me for not meeting them. Leave tempting treats around unattended "just for a minute" and set me up to fail, and then take me over your lap and spank me to tears - a swat on the bottom for every excess calorie I consume. (You don't notice how your lap is slowly shrinking under your growing belly every time you spank me. Yet).
Diet: I need a STRICT diet to lose all this blubber. No more sweets, junk, sodas, or carbs for this fatty. Only plain salads and water from here on out. Of course, it's not fair to expect YOU to give up YOUR treats because I'm a spoiled piggy with no self control. So they'll still be in the house. And you'll be tempting me. Eating them in front of me. Stuffing your face with all of my favorite things and mocking me for not being allowed to have even a bite. Bragging that your trim figure can afford the extra calories while a blubbery pig like me can never have them again if I want to keep the weight off (you don't notice, after a couple months of this, your own waistline starting to expand. Yet).
Exercise: Stuff me into workout clothes two sizes too small and take me to your gym. My belly should be hanging over my shorts and under my shirt. My shorts should be digging into my soft, overfed hips and my shirt should fit like a crop top. And then make me run on a treadmill in public, with my soft jiggly fat wobbling with every step I take. Mock me for getting out of breath so easily. Sit on the sidelines watching the pathetic show, skipping your own workout to do so. (You don't notice how your own workouts, when you can be bothered to do them, are getting harder. Yet).
Discipline: the most important part. Set me unrealistic expectations and goals and punish me for not meeting them. Leave tempting treats around unattended "just for a minute" and set me up to fail, and then take me over your lap and spank me to tears - a swat on the bottom for every excess calorie I consume. (You don't notice how your lap is slowly shrinking under your growing belly every time you spank me. Yet).
31-35, T