chapter 17

Lisa did everything for me to make my life easier. She bought me a reclining chair so that I did not have the trouble of climbing the stairs to go to bed any more. She got me a chair for the new wet room so that I could sit down while having a shower. She even helped me to reach the areas that I found difficult to reach.
She insisted I showered and shaved once a day. If I did not comply she threatened to withdraw her services. Of course I did as I was told! Once i got used to her being around she was indispensable. I relied on her for everything. She had a hairdresser come to do a home visit and cut my hair. She helped me to dress in the comfortable stretchy tee shirts and stretchy trousers that she bought for me.
She supplied me with food twenty four hours a day every day. It was a bottomless pit. Whenever I finished one plate another plate or bowl would appear. Everything was washed down with lots of Coke, or beer, if it was between the hours of 18:00 and 03.00.
If I was awake and I was not engaged in an activity such as showering or dressing, I had to eat. She could see when I was struggling. If I could not feed myself, she would do it for me.
Lisa's feeding sessions were so extraordinary that sometimes I pretended not to be able to manage so that she would take over.
She always started wth a sigh and a brusque telling off. Sometimes she'd go and get changed for the occasion, especially if she'd been at work. She always wore something low cut so that I could see plenty of her ample breasts. She'd always lean forward as far as she could when she sat down next to me to give me a big eyeful as she sat down. As she fed me, she'd sit very upright, sometimes arching her back, pulling her top down even further. She would nearly always drop something, which would cause her to jiggle and wiggle, then she would bend over to pick up whatever she had dropped, deliberately not bending her knees as she bent over and making sure she was angled so that I could see her knickers (or lack of them) underneath her tight short skirt that rode up as she bent over. As I ate and my stomach grew harder, she would reward me by removing more clothing until she was completely naked. She would continue to flaunt with me, feeling my belly, massaging it, picking it up and dropping it, which sent shockwaves throughout my body.
When she deemed I was ready, she would reach down underneath my substantial and growing apron. She would squeeze, pull and push in ways that I never thought possible until my ardour rose. Then she would sit astride me and mount me, rock me into a fervour, while still continuing to force me to eat.
The crescendo would end in an explosion of my ardour that drained me physically, psychologically and emotionally.
I was completely dependent on her. And I did not want to change.

Under her tuteledge, my weight soared. I soon reached 30 stones and was quickly approaching 35. I had tripled my starting weight and I was on my way to quadrupling it. Yet, this life of lazy gluttony was so much better than my previous life of exersise and deprivation.

The end