The slamming of the door wakes me up, you've come back home. The instant I awoke, the uncomfortable feeling of pain hit me, pulsating from my abdomen...my abdomen that was buried in layers of fat. You left the feeding tube in me since yesterday, forgetting to take it out. Or maybe you remembered but something made you leave it in? Maybe your desire to see me..erm, see my belly swell bigger mixed with the worry if it was getting enough made you leave the tube in. Regardless, the tube has been non-stop pumping weight gain shake into me for a day and a half now at a constant rate. You head upstairs, to the room above where I lay, to check on the tank to make sure it's filled. I hear your footsteps above me, walking around the room. I assume you're making more shake to fill the tank up. You're always topping it off, your natural state of worry and genuine care taking over to make sure the tank never runs out, or else I'd go hungry. You'd always tell me that when you see my belly, you marvel at how huge it is and worry if it's eating enough. "If it's eating."? I should've known then that you see me and my belly as two different entities. Back then I was only 800 lbs or so and my body was barely taking up a whole queen sized bed back then. Now, I take up a whole California King Sized bed and even overflow it. I can feel my roll and overhang hang off of the edges of the bed; gravity pulling them lower as I continue to grow. However, you dropped hints way before then that you were only interested in me for my belly. I hear you walk back over to the tank and open it, the sound of it unlatching echoed through the air ducts. I closed my eyes, knowing that this feeding wouldn't end any time soon. I try to ignore the pain by thinking back of the times before I ended up like this.
I remember the day we met, I was a heavy but spry 23yr old. Fresh out of college and ready to take on the world. I weighed just over 400 lbs back then but never really gave my weight a second thought. I've always ignored bullies and shrugged off any negative comments about my weight. We met at the ice cream parlor near my place. I ordered a double school sundae and waddled my way over to a table to dig in. You walked in, standing at 6ft 2in, scanned the room before heading over to the counter to place your order. Before that, you spotted me and briefly stopped as if you were taking me in with your eyes. We locked eyes as I was caught staring at you - your trim physique was a thing of beauty. While I was 5'10 and 400 lbs, I always had a thing for slim or muscular men that were taller than me. The different forms of contrast were beautiful to me. You got your single scoop vanilla cone ice cream and walked up to my table and asked if you could sit with me. Through a mouthful of ice cream and hot fudge I said you could, then flustered for a napkin as I felt some roll down my mouth. You got your finger and wiped it away for me before I could and licked it clean. I was yours from that moment on.
I've never been with anyone before, let alone someone as handsome as you. Your blonde hair, blue eyes, and trim body made perfect contrast to my black hair, brown eyes and flabby bod. I remember when you'd invite me to your place after dinners out and wanted to rub my belly. I was shy and sheepish at first. never having had anyone touch me without a shirt on; let alone rub my belly. But you insisted and went for it. I'll never forget the soft and warm touch of your firm hands on my soft belly. The circling motions of your palms on my belly eased the tightness and helped me digest the heavy meal you paid for - insisting I order more if I wanted to. I was in ecstasy as I reclined back and let my belly out in full display for you to rub and enjoy. You were loving it too; I could tell from the way you caressed my belly and how you kissed and pampered it. That night became one of many.
I moved in with you after just 5 months of dating. You kept insisting me to move in with you, always asking me on our dates if I've given it thought. You eventually broke me down and I did. Your house was huge, at least compared to my one bedroom apartment. Yours was two stories and had 4 bedrooms. Well 5 actually, the 5th being one you had constructed to replace the garage. I thought it was odd, but as I have now become accustomed to the four walls of your new addition, I knew why you had it built - to house me, or rather someone of my size. After moving in, you insisted I didn't have to work. You're an investment banker, always making huge deals and dealing with high profile clients. You make more than enough money for the both of us and any extra would go towards the growing third member of our relationship - my belly. Since we've started dating I put on around an extra 20 lbs from all your encouragement to keep eating. It never dawned on me that it was your intent to see me grow. One day, a month after moving in, you decided to tell me your true intentions with me while rubbing my belly. You told me you wanted me to keep getting fatter, how you loved bigger bodies and wanted to see just how big someone could get. You expressed great joy in how you helped me pack on so much weight in such a short time. I didn't know what to feel back then about it, but something deep down told me to agree and go on this journey with you. Maybe if I knew just how intent you were on seeing how fat someone could get I may have not accepted your wishes. Nonetheless, I agreed and from there you became hellbent on fattening me up. You put on calorie regiments, implemented a feeding schedule for me to optimize daily calorie consumption. Each day you would cook up a batch of gainer shakes for me to drink before leaving for work. I had to finish it all before you got home or else I'd be in for an intense feeding session and a double serving of my daily shake before bed. At first it was a pitcher. Then it became a gallon. A gallon became two gallons, then three, and then four, and then five...always increasing as I got bigger.
