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Frankie Foster's Cookie Dookie

Summary:

Warning! This story features incredibly weird, gross fetish stuff. Anything you read beyond this point is your fault!

Frankie Foster gives in to her cookie addiction and stuffs herself silly, only to find herself with an urgent need to use the bathroom the next morning and too bloated to get up. She decides that the best solution is to conjure up an imaginary friend that can help her, in the form of a diaper named Debbie. Unfortunately, Debbie seems a bit too happy about her role as Frankie's padding.

When it came to her grandmother's cookies, Frankie Foster had less than zero self control. If left to her own devices she would devour each and every last one she could get her hands on, shoveling handful after handful in her mouth until her stomach was absolutely packed to bursting, and then eating some more. It was for this reason that Madame Foster rarely baked them anymore, save for one single day each year.

And on that particular day in this particular year, Frankie truly went into a frenzy, devouring cookies by the boxload with the ferocity of a hungry animal, and about as much vocabulary as one too. The only thing that came from her cookie-stuffed, crumb-encrusted mouth besides primitive grunts and belches was a cry of "cookies" as she gobbled up box after box. Cookies were piled up beside her bed, just within arms reach so she could grab them while laying down. With one hand she shoved cookies by the fistful into her insatiable mouth, and with the other she held a gallon of milk which she took large, greedy gulps from whenever she needed to wash down the mass of dough and chocolate she'd consumed. She didn't just eat ravenously, but unrelentingly. She was cramming cookies into her mouth as fast as she conceivably could, not letting even a single moment pass where she wasn't working towards getting more cookies in her gut.

Her belly was left profoundly bloated from the dozens of boxes and the several gallons of milk she had consumed, and was continuing to steadily swell as she stuffed herself ceaselessly without slowing. Her midriff-baring white shirt conveniently provided room for her tummy to expand, until her crumb-covered gut was roughly the size of a full-term pregnancy. And based on the fact that she still had plenty of cookies left to go, and showed no signs of slowing, it wouldn't be long before her foodbaby turned into twins.

Eventually, even the seemingly insatiable Frankie reached a point where she stopped eating. Not because she didn't have room for more, no. If there was a limit to the amount of cookies Frankie could cram into her gut at one time, it still had yet to be found. She had simply consumed each and every last one of the cookies piled up at her bedside, and was so sluggish and bloated from how much she'd eaten that she couldn't get up for more, no matter how desperately she wanted to. The mulched-up mass of cookies and milk sloshing around in her beach ball-sized belly weighed heavily on both her body and mind. The feeling of fullness and satisfaction that could only come from glutting herself so profoundly made her eyelids flutter and then droop. With both hands resting on her pastry-packed gut, she closed her eyes and slipped into the mother of all food comas.

----

"Ugh, what happened last night..." Frankie moaned groggily, struggling to keep open her eyelids that felt like they were made out of lead. Slowly, the memories of the previous night came back to her, most of which involved shoving cookies into her face. She looked around herself at the disaster area of crumbs and empty boxes that surrounded her, and then down at her profoundly bloated belly. It was around then that the immense pressure brewing in her lower abdomen came to the forefront, which was dulled in her prior half-asleep state. She knew that overeating to that degree would give her one hell of a stomachache, but she had a feeling that this was something slightly different. The pressure wasn't in her stomach, it was slightly below it, and she began to feel an additional cramping against her puckered butthole. The suddenness and the sharpness of it made her wince. She quickly deduced what was happening and why.