chapter 3

One morning, I had the pleasure of bringing the Princess' second breakfast into the room while still she was dressing. She was standing before the looking glass in her brassiere and underpants, her plump hands caressing the underside of her proud, soft belly. I felt my knees quake as though they would support me no longer.
"Oohh," sighed the Princess, turning sideways to assess her girth from a different angel, "it is small wonder, Senator, that I need to be fitted for a new gown. I am growing corpulent!" With her hands on her underbelly, she jiggled her corpulence up and down, sending ripples over her soft skin, and waves of warmth through my loins. O what sweet torture!
"You look ravishing, Milady," I said quietly, setting down her food on the table tray. She hastened over to the bed, and sat down heavily, beginning on the food as though she were mortally hungry, despite the fact that she had finished an even larger meal not half-an-hour before.
"I was weighed this morning," she informed me, in between ravenous bites. "And already I am 180lbs! Is that not startling, Senator?"
"As I say, dear Princess, you look ravishing..." I stammered.
"And... supposing I reached 200lbs, would you then say I look ravishing?" she asked, glancing up at me with a sparkle in her eyes.
"Even more so," I whispered, my head swimming and my heart beating terribly fast. Could it possibly be true that this voluptuous beauty actually wanted to further add to her girth?

Indeed, 200lbs came and went faster than anybody expected; as did the Princess' 17th birthday. Weighed again on that special day (after hours upon hours of non-stop indulgence), she was found the weigh an impressive 214lbs. This time, I had the honour of weighing the ever-growing Princess myself. The more corpulent she became, the more difficult I did find it to disguise from her the extent of my deviant desires to see her eat and grow; to touch her ever-expanding form...
I stared at her with unbridled lust as she disrobed for her weigh.
The added 34lbs over the past few months had seen more wondrous changes in the Princess. Most of the weight had been directed to her belly, her hips and her posterior. She had had to be refitted yet again for new garments, as she could no longer squeeze her abundant flesh into the ones she had worn but months before. When she had recently attempted to do so, she had riven one such garment at the seams, leaving her with a very conspicuous fold of flesh on display. At this she had simply giggled, before announcing that all that strenuous activity had made her hungry.
For a while now had I known that the Princess despised the sight of a meal unfinished, but it was not until one glorious day in the castle gardens when she and I were dining together (her luncheon being, of course, much larger than my own) that she began to speak of it.
"I simply do hate to see wasted food," she said scornfully, comfortably ensconced in a reclining wooden chair, 'neath the shade of her parasol. She leant further forward, and lowered her voice: "And... can I impart a secret, Senator?"
I nodded hastily. "But of course." I humbly inclined my head in a bow.
Proceeded the Princess: "I know I have grown plump, but I fear I shall be hugely corpulent ere I leave a meal unfinished!" She placed a chubby hand to her full lips, and giggled in a manner that I found most irresistible. Fortunate it was, indeed, that I was already seated--several painful metres away from her at the opposite end of the long garden table--otherwise I should have collapsed, for I had come over so dreadfully light-headed.
Somehow, I did manage to speak. "Do you... wish to grow hugely corpulent, milady?" I stammered; then, heeding not the consequences, I foolishly added: "Much pleasure would it give me to see you so... mature."
Whatever doubt the Princess may hitherto have had about my feelings, would have instantly been obliterated at that point. Had she wished it, she could have had me killed for such a remark. But instead, she simply gazed at me for a moment, and then smiled and glanced away.
"Senator, fetch me more cake, will you?" she said. "I have not had enough!"
So hastily did I rise, that I very nearly sent my chair toppling over.
Within minutes, I returned with an entire freshly-baked cake--simple, but delicious, and a pitcher of mead.
Judging by the manner in which Princess Evelyn's eyes widened, I ascertained that even she had not been expecting quite so generous a helping. Even so, she began to eat with abandon, as I resumed my chair to enjoy the sights.
"Oh, you are wicked!" she said with a smile, when she was perhaps two-thirds of the way through her meal, and obviously rapidly becoming replete. "I should be here all day ere I consume this bounty!"
Leaning forth, with a wicked smirk upon my painted lips, I returned: "Surely your abdomen has not expanded so greatly only to see you vanquished by a simple cake?"
I feared that I had finally gone too far. Rosy patches appeared upon her plump cheeks, but, instead of rebuking me, she seized the remainder of the cake in her bare hands, and shoved it into her mouth, devouring it in a few short, albeit painful bites, many crumbs falling down onto her lap. She then took several liberal gulps of mead, and slumped back in her chair, cradling her distended, painfully full belly in both hands. I stood, and made my way over to her.
"Well done, dear Princess," I said quietly, taking up a cloth and wiping the corners of her mouth for her. I gazed at her, longing to kiss and caress her beautiful, growing form, but realising that that was one joy I could never know.
"I cannot move, for I am so replete," said Princess Evelyn. "The maids shall escort me to my chamber when I am ready."