chapter 5

Rhonda was pale and shivering as she sank onto the bed.
"I thought he'd forgotten about me... I HOPED he'd forgotten about me."
"Why are you so afraid of him, exactly?" Hackman slipped his arm around her waist... well, her middle, anyway.
Rhonda handed him the note her ex had sent her. It read 'Who's the new guy with you?'
"He was watching us?" Hackman asked.
"Yeah. I haven't seen him in years. I knew him during my first year at Uni. When I started to put on weight, he left me." Rhonda shuddered and huddled against Hackman.
"But now he's following you around?"
"I had a few problems with it back at university, but I thought it stopped. I don't know why he's stalking me again."
"I'd imagine it's because he's some kind of nutbar. Luckily, there is a fairly simple solution. If he's here in England, let's get on a plane back to your side of the Atlantic and leave him baffled by your sudden disappearance."
"I can't. I've got a load more eating contests lined up- I can't just cancel 'em." She brightened somewhat. "Stalker or no stalker, I'm far too professional to walk out on an obligation that involves food."
"Professional? I think you mean 'greedy'!" Hackman pinched a roll of Rhonda fat belly and kissed her quickly on the lips. "Now: are we going to drink this wine or not?"
Finally, Rhonda smiled. "Sure. Let's drink the wine. I might even have room for a few more snacks when I'm done drinking."
"Good. And don't worry about your ex. I'll stay with you: he won't be able to get you alone."
Rhonda wrapped her arms around. "And you're sure the only reason you want to stay with me is to protect me?"
"Well, why else?"
"I thought", Rhonda grinned, "it might be so that you can feed me endless treats and then f*** me while I'm too stuffed to move."
"Well, that may be a SMALL part of it, yes," admitted Hackman. "Shall I pour the wine now?"

***
Rhonda's ex, meanwhile, was staring at a laptop screen with cold, predator's eyes. He was still in the bar, a pint of bitter perspiring coolly near his hand. The screen of his laptop showed the homepage of Rhonda's website. A handy list of all her upcoming engagements: the eating contests and world-record attempts. They were spaced out over a couple of months: that was typical of her. He remembered, back when they were together, she'd always taken her time over things; always took life real slow. When she'd started to overeat, that languidness had turned seamlessly to laziness.

Was it really seven years since they saw each other for the first time? And how had he let her come to this? He'd seen her going wrong all the way back then- throwing away her figure and her academic career to pursue her unhinged obsession with eating... and he'd just let it happen. He'd left her rather than trying to get her back on track. And now she'd found herself some new enabler to help her reach even greater depths... that was the way he saw it anyway. And it made him quietly, intensely furious.

***
Hackman didn't think of himself as an enabler. He thought of himself as the luckiest bastard to ever walk the dreary streets of London town.
"You like that?" Rhonda asked. She was straddling his narrow, bony legs, facing him so that her stomach spilled out over his thin waist. She was also gyrating sensually while she swigged straight from the bottle of wine.
"Oh yes. You having fun up there?"
Rhonda snorted with laughter. "You're so polite, even in this situation." She polished off the bottle of wine and flopped down on top of him, pinning him in position. She felt even heavier than she had the last time. "It's cute," she added, resting her head on his chest.
"You want something to eat while you're lying there?"
By way of answer, Rhonda simply tilted her head a little and opened her mouth. The bed and surrounding sidetables were littered with snacks: Hackman barely had to look to find a suitable treat and bring it to Rhonda's lips. In fact, he'd come across one of her large, expensive chocolate boxes and was now able to bring one small, fondant filled chocolate to her mouth after another.

Time, of course, slipped by. Hackman and Rhonda's day settled into a gentle rhythm of feeding and eating. When she got too full, Rhonda would sleep for an hour, only to be woken by her renewed hunger. Hackman barely took his hands off her the entire day.

When night came, the cool, exciting, aphrodisiac dark of London worked its magic. The threatening presence of Rhonda's ex was all but forgotten. The man himself, however, lingered... waiting across town in the same, seedy bar.

***
TUNE IN TOMORROW FOR THE NEXT THRILLING INSTALLMENT OF 'RHONDA'