chapter 3

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I don't know what has happened to my diet, but now that it is broken I can't seem to get it back, and I know deep down that even though the fat is just beginning, I never will. I steal food all the time now. I can't even control myself when he is home. In fact, it is worse when he is home. I eat all the time. When I have seconds and then thirds, and he watches my body swell and my thin beauty slowly buried, he finally gets angry and calls me a fat pig, and punishes me. He makes me eat all the food on the table sometimes, naked, of course.

When he's very mad, he sometimes pushes it on the floor. I feel his fingers bury themselves in the new fat on my bottom and thighs as I eat caramel cake from the floor with my mouth, and he fuccks through my new layers of lard which he describes as we move together. He is so sweet to still have sex with my disgusting fat self. He grips each small roll tightly, commenting on it meanly, and he only makes me eat more for it. I grow only hungrier for it. I am so gross he says. I have no willpower. I won't be skinny much longer, he says. I am getting fat.

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147

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He puts me in clothes that make little bits of new fat roll over and between them, and then takes me to the mall. There he punishes me for stealing food, by humiliating me in front of everyone. All are my old friends, my skinny friends, he tells me. He buys eight banana splits, and he says he will be back to take me home only after I've finished them all. He tells me each one is 1500 calories. This is effectively like me eating 4 pounds of fat. I will gain four pounds of fat from this, he says. He will put me to bed as soon as we get home, so I will have no choice but to let turn his punishment into fat. Pigs like me don't deserve to be skinny he says. Certainly not if they eat like pigs. I am his pig now, I know, and I obediently eat it all, through tears that stream down my face and into the food. He has taught me to make noises as I eat, like a pig, to drive home the punishment. They are all watching me. I cry more, but I am so wet now. My noises, grunts and little oinks, their stares, their judgement: It all turns me on so much. I am so gross. Does he know? I must hide this from him. He finds it though, as soon as we are home, my heat, the soaking wet stains on my panties and thighs, and teases me for it, with his words, with his fingers. Then he nuzzles and sucks on my little fat rolls and cuts me out of my pretty clothes. I won't be needing such cute thin garments, he tells me, ever again it seems. I cry, and become wetter, and then he licks the wetness from me and makes long slow love to me. He still loves me. I love him so much.

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I ache for him, for his love, for food that he feeds me, or bids me eat or leave. I always eat.

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165

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My hunger is strong now, but my needs are even stronger

My little bit of tummy fat has swelled with all the fat and sweets I eat, and its softness rolls well over an inch over the waist of my shorts, especially when I sit. I hate how gross I'm becoming, but I can't do anything about it. My pretty, thin, defined arms are soft now, thicker, chubby. They wobble even a little, like the rest of me now I think. He makes me walk around the house naked now, sometimes on all fours. No clothes is good enough for me. I do not deserve clothes, I am too ugly for any such pretty thin-girl things, and I outgrow them almost instantly.

He tells me he is bored. He deactivates my negative body image protocols and the others, releases the memory instance, and I love how fat I am getting, how fat he is making me, and how fat he is letting me make myself. He has been playing such games with me, with my other instance-self. I tingle with pleasure as I remember the naughty things he's done to me, made me feel and writhe with guilt and pleasure. But now I feel no guilt or shame from my released protocols. Only pleasure.

He fawns over my soft body. He still keeps me naked at home. No clothes are good enough for me, he says, I am too beautiful. No clothes deserve to grace my softnesses, my curves that he worships, the most beautiful diamonds pale in comparison to the vision he has created on me. And anyway, I outgrow them almost instantly.

He still wants to play games in public, but now it makes me happy, as well as very horny, to see the people looking as I try to make myself fatter for him. His looks of happiness and lust, how could I have failed to notice them all this time, as I lick the sausage grease from my not-so-slender fingers. It makes me so horny and wet for him. I shake my little bulging belly at him, they all watch, and my chubby tits, and my arms and ass jiggle at him on their own when he finally stands me up to leave, and when we get home he leans me back and sets a whole apple pie on that fattening sack of tummy and makes me eat it as I watch my tummy swell with it. He licks deep into my pussy as I do, and he makes me eat so quickly with his movements, that soon pie is gone. I am sad but oh so full. He gently lifts my crotch to him, telling me what a good fat piggy I'll be if I keep eating like such a good girl as he sets the head of his large cock against my tender swollen lips. He presses into me slowly, filling me, kissing me even as deeply as he strokes, and I taste myself on him, taste his love for me, as he caresses all the fat he is making on me and loves so much. He feeds me pieces of chocolate fudge as he loves me.

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He tells me he is putting me on a diet, to help me gain faster. He only feeds me twice a day, veggies in the morning, and real food in the evening. I am tired a lot, and I eat so much at night that I immediately fall asleep. I can't help how hungry I am, and I sneak snack during the day, little finger foods and biscuits and snack cakes and chips. When he catches me, he punishes me and loves me and tells me what a good and naughty girl I am to cheat. I get fat so fast now.

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199

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I eat well for him and am soon truly fat. He likes it and calls me his princess again. He feeds me princess sized meals and makes so much love to me. He bites the thick new fat rolls of my bottom as he eats me out from behind and I eat from his piggy bowl of scraps of donut and mac and cheese and pate and chipotle mayo.

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222

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I have gained over 100 pounds, and my prince is ready to reward me, and I am so excited. He says he is ready to make me hate my body again, and he reactivates the previous instance and several protocols. I am so excited, because I know how fat I will get then, I will have no control anymore, and how much fun it is, even though I don't realize it, how much I cum and cum and cum, sometimes even more than when I love my fat.

Then I see how fat I've gotten, I am horrified. It's as if I've gained sixty pounds of pure fat overnight. Where have I been? What have I been doing to myself, to the body my lover once desired? I vaguely remember pleasure, joy, but I cannot imagine why. Even as I orgasm again, I hate the fat that shakes around me, my prison of my own making. My prince tells me how ashamed I am, and I am. I cry, and he plays with my belly and tells me how fat I am as he fuccks me all the more. I am so turned on, so naughty, so humiliated, so ashamed. I want to be fat, be ashamed and despised, and yet I hate it, that part of myself, feeling trapped within creature unable to hold to her own will. It all mixes around me, over me, and every pain and pleasure wash through me.

I know nothing, but I know I am his.

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