Angel's Ruminations of P.E.A.D.S

Based on this image: https://twitter.com/keno9988/status/1717483134231683115

angel draws another puff from his cigarette as he ponders his life
sitting around in his unkempt apartment, old food packaging strewn around haphazardly, the walls and floor coated in dust, food, cum and drink spills
angel tries to keep his room somewhat in order, but it's a struggle
thinking is all he can do to busy himself during these brief moments of clarity he is rarely afforded
it's also less physically demanding to lose himself in his thoughts than it is to try to move his over bloated body, as even breathing reminds him of his new station in life as the hundreds of kilograms of weight bear down on him
angel and his body have come to a sort of agreement, not a peace treaty, as that would imply a cessation of hostilities, but more a temporary cease fire
angel has instituted a routine that his body will accept, well more specifically his over bloated and constantly needy gut, one that acts with a mind of its own
angel will spend most of the time eating the cheap shit, potatoes, bread, rice (or whatever passes for rice in hell) and lots of salt
it's not great, but the food is cheap and does not spoil quickly
but once in a while he'll be forced to grant his body the pleasure of indulging in a true, grand, meal
most of the food places in hell have him on a blacklist, but a few still accept his calls, Pizza Hell being one of them
he'll order a huge meal, sit down on his bed, and indulge until he blacks out, cums or otherwise is satisfied
in return his body will, usually, leave angel to his own devices, keeping its gurgles to a minimum
angel likes to think this is a mere accord he has to strike with his gut, but deep down he feels he really enjoys it, and the pure unrestrained pleasure of indulging which may well rival the best sex he’s ever had
it's easier to think of his gut as a separate entity trying to take over his life, than the possibility that this is really just his true desires breaking through his denial

angel pushes these thoughts aside as he takes another puff of his fag, as he reflects on recent events
he's become a bloated, shadow, of his former self
he's commanded by the desires of his gut, which gurgles and groans near incessantly
his sex drive having been warped and corrupted by this, disease
thoughts of dicks and hot men have been replaced with juicy food, long stomach groan and flabby skin
even a mere groan of his stomach is often enough to cause him to grown a painfully strong erection, and the mere sight of good food can often bring angel to the edge of an orgasm, let alone biting into it
these horny thoughts are ones he can never truly satisfy in the traditional way, as angel has long lost the ability to reach around his gut
he can only satisfy himself by indulging, his own body betraying him and telling him to eat
whenever he's in his room, which is most of the time, he'll lounge around naked and forlorn
his life having devolved between indulging, cumming, showering and simply staring out a window, waiting until his gut beckons for these steps to repeat
angel does accept his condition has granted him some relief
Valetino, angels former pimp, seemingly has his limits, he cut Angel loose a long time ago
val could barely tolerate to see Angel when he at least could still flaunt his dick, angel can only imagine what he’d think if val saw Angel now, its one of the few thoughts that puts a smile on angels lips.
charlie and vagggie, for all the shit he has given them, still strive to take care of Angel, allowing him his apartment, rent free, even while still trying to get Angel into heaven
angel still attends their therapy sessions, and tries to remain engaged, even if it does take him an hour to climb down one small set of stairs
perhaps they feel guilty that Angel contracted this disease on their watch
the one time he allowed himself to eat a fatty meal, and he is forever punished, as if 100 years of a restrained diet finally caught up with him, and he’s is desperate to catch up on those 100 years of missed food
angel thinks charlie never forgave herself

angel can feel he is on the precipice of having to begin a new indulgent session
like having stubbed your toe on a chair, you have a few moments of clarity but the knowledge that in a second you'll be overrun with pain
but for angel, its as if another entity takes control of his body, as if someone cut the strings of his mind and assumes control
the only way for Angel to retain any sense of control is to keep ahead of his bodies urges
if angel is going to have to shove a pizza down his throat, he'd rather do it himself than let his bloated gut take control
angel picks up the phone

"Hello! This is pizza hell, how may I help you?"
"I...yes. The...th-the usual, please."

as those words passed his lips, his stomach groaned, the folds of fat shuddered, precum seeps from his dick as he gained an erection so painful he can barely hold back a groan