chapter 3

3

When she woke again, it was just turning light out, and she realized there were windows along the very top of one of the high walls, like a basement. And they were open. It was time to yell. She knew, felt, deeply, worriedly, that it was now or never. But she didn't. She felt... tentative? Uncertain? ... Timid? Her head, her mind was very foggy. Instead, maybe to clear it, she tried to look around. The room was barely lit from the windows, yet somehow it was so bright it almost hurt her eyes.

If possible, she felt even fuzzier than she had... yesterday? She had no idea. She almost didn't really think about it. It was so hard to focus, even on her inability to focus. She felt like she was almost swooning. Pi was sitting beside the bed watching her.

"Hi honey. Good morning." She wore a big smile. Arrial had the feeling she shouldn't like that, but she did: Unwillingly, as swelling of positive emotion flowed inside her towards this woman. Her kind face imprinted on mind, evoking feelings of being cared for. It worried her all the more. After a moment, she started to sit up. Pi helped her, and then again steadied her as she got to her feet. She had a hospital gown on this time, and found it easy to move in. Her hands on the walker, Pi begins leading her to the exercise area.

Her stomach surges, then almost immediately grumbles ferociously and audibly. She blinks. Her tongue is so nervous, so cautious, it should frustrate her, but it doesn't, and again fear rises in her gorge. It is quickly overwhelmed by other needs. "I'm so hungry," she says, shyly, almost a whisper. Pi smiles, then turns somewhat sad.

"That is good, honey, and I'll get you some food just -"

"Just as soon as you finish an exercise test," chuckles Nu. "We don't want you getting out of shape already."

Arrial looks at him confused, but he just smiles that evil, cold grin. She feels fear when she looks at him, and all the more for his tone and smile and way of speech. She vaguely remembers something, a dream perhaps, of striking out at him. It immediately terrifies her.

Holding the arms of a wide treadmill, they begin walking her. She feels even more hungry for a moment, but then begins feeling sick. She feels something flowing through her IV. Vitamins? Fluids. She feels worse and worse, and starts sweating cold.

It's about fifteen minutes before Pi says, "I think that's enough, Nu. She doesn't like exercise." But she does like exercise. She has always liked it. The way it makes her feel, the adrenaline, the endorphins, the freedom, the power. That's... that's why she's... thin...?

But as soon as she's off the machine, she feels a sudden and weird, but very great, sense of relief wash over her, her muscles, her brain. She feels happy. Happy... to not be exercising. To be able to relax. To be able to eat. She is excited. And horribly, sickly confused.

"Less than a mile. Fuccking pathetic. Fat girl, coming through." She tingles. Nu turns away from her, and Pi starts leading her to a table. What? Fat girl? What's that s'posed to mean? She feels increasingly unsettled, but whats more, his words had again made her feel... just a little... odd.

They set her in a wheelchair at the table, buckled in securely. They give her only one plate, but they keep refilling it from a cart behind her chair. The food was delicious, with such a variety of flavors and intensities that even had she not been ravenous, she didn't think she could have resisted a little overeating. In fact, she didn't think she would have if she could. Again she feels disturbed by this odd feeling, but... also... aroused? Maybe she likes food? Like, 'like' likes? She's really never eaten stuff as delicious as this, or had cravings of this sort, much less immediately fulfilled in such abundance and so well.

It never ends. Whenever she clears about half the plate, they refill it with a little more, plus something new. And there is always more to try, it seems. And they are all in small portions, yet so delicious. Buttery croissant, fluffy scrambles of meat and cream and egg, sweet mini blueberry pancakes with apple syrup, things she would never have eaten more than a bite of before, she can't help but willlessly devour, a warm pudding with a chocolate cracker crust, banana apricot jam on heavily buttered toast, some sort of milkshake made with huckleberry pie. Many types of sausage, slices of deep fried turkey bacon. A quarter of a carbonara BLT drenched in what now seems to be her favorite food, mayonnaise. No, wait, the chocolate truffles that only very occasionally are placed before her. They explode in her mouth, and now fully and unopposedly in her crotch in a way she's beginning to both expect and desire, and they are always different. It seems like they mostly follow her finishing especially rich dishes, almost like a reward. She is wet by the time she is getting full, inordinately aroused, she feels herself almost dripping as she's never done or felt before. She sneaks a peek over her shoulder, but Nu is gone. She can't help herself, and slowly inches her hand inside her gown. She is so hot, she even ignores the soft chubby roll that brushes her thumb, a roll that's never existed before today. But then instead of her engorged sensual input, her hand brushes a soft plastic covering above her vulva. She could not have missed this somehow, but she had. As she touches it, it vibrates lightly. Several truffles are deposited on her plate suddenly, along with a small mountain more food, and Pi says she will be back in a little while. Arrial knows she is strapped in, and stopping doesn't even really occur to her. As she begins on the truffles, she strokes the pubic appliance. It purrs into her in an intensely pleasurable way, and only as she both eats and touches it simultaneously. The fuller she gets, the better it feels. Time slips away. She just keeps eating. She doesn't even feel her stomach really. Just full. Full inside. Full below. She is moaning and practically yipping by the time she crests, the combined crescendo a symphony of pleasure unlike anything she has before felt or imagined. She has finished the plate, entirely, not just the truffles, but everything else. And it makes her happy... It turns her on even more. Her orgasm lasts and lasts, pulses of reality-erasing pleasure, for almost six whole minutes. She's eaten over 5000 calories.

When they come back, a few minutes later, she is a little sweaty, but also calmer, and very tired. In fact, it is good they gave her the wheel chair, because as they move her back to the bed, she is almost asleep. Still she tries to stand at the bedside. "Don't honey, we'll help you. These IVs give you a wide range of biochemical effectors. Right now, they are making you sleep." They lift her into bed, and she is out. Her full, impossibly distended tummy gurgles and digests above her as she dreams.