Chapter 11

Sloane shivered. He attempted to wrap his winter coat around himself, but his bloated belly prevented this. He knew he would have to go out to buy a new coat – just not right now. It was snowing hard now and he was lethargic from all the eating he had done since Jenna had left. He was worried about her…so he ate. And, he was depressed…so he ate more. He missed Jenna. And, he also realized that he might just lose her. He knew he must tell her…tell her everything.

He sat back in his recliner, stuffing more of the smoked turkey leg into his swelling belly. Burping rowdily, Sloane lay back, his whole body feeling overstuffed due to the copious amounts of beer and food he just consumed. He jumped when the door bell rang. She must have left him…know other reason she would have braved this terrible weather, he thought to himself. This brought both a measure of joy and dread. He told himself that he would tell her…tell her now before he lost his nerve…before he lost the buzz the beer was giving him.

He walked, unsteadily toward the door and opened it. It wasn’t Jenna…it was Vince.

“Holy crap!” Vince pronounced, poking Sloane hard in the belly.

“Ooooph!” Vince staggered backward as Vince entered, slamming the door behind him.

“That’s where my money has been going! To pad your fat gut,” Vince exclaimed.

“What are you doin here,” Sloane slurred, slightly.

Vince grabbed the front of Sloane’s shirt and pushed him across the floor and launching him into the recliner. Vince took in the scene…the half eaten food…bottles of beer laying around the place…and Sloane’s newly fattened form. He was disgusted…and furious. “So, Fatso, you’ve been stuffing yourself mightily big. You look like you could burst open.”

Sloane belched loudly, trying to get up, but Vince pushed him down into the chair again. His eyes went wide as Vince began ramming food into his mouth. He grunted, unable to move, Vince’s knee against his chest. When Vince finally let up, Sloane was panting, groaning, holding his truly distended gut. Vince slowly lifted up Vince’s flannel shirt revealing his straining belly. It was tight. Vince began to massage it in a circular motion covering all sides. Sloane could barely catch his breathe before Vince began feeding him again. He suddenly gagged as a tube was pushed down his throat. Oh, my word, the keg!

The small quarter keg of Heinkein was barely touched. He had mostly been sucking down bottles of beer. But, now, Vince had hooked him up to the keg. “Fatso, you’re fired. You couldn’t even fatten up my wife right. I’ll show you what fattening really means!”

The beer poured into his hapless gut…blowing it outward…he was being pumped to overflowing…he was now too huge to move…to protest…more and more was being pumped into him. Sloane begged Vince to stop, but Vince showed no sign of stopping it…as a matter of fact, the intensity increased as the lever was twisted higher. Soon his body was practically dwarfed by his massive belly. He was sure that he would burst. Sloane ran his hands around his stomach as it arched outward. The flow finally stopped.

Sloane lay prone, unable to move or believe what was occurring. Suddenly, Vince pushed the recliner into a sitting position, putting an incredible pressure on Sloane’s swollen appendage. Vince pulled Sloane violently to a standing position. He would have fallen forward if Vince weren’t in front of him, supporting him. He was so woozy. Then he found himself in almost a fireman’s hold…and then BANG…BANG…SLAP…SLAP….no…Vince had him over his shoulder…his body protesting…his belly churned as the first burp emerged. Then another and another…Vince was forcing the burps from his powerlessly bloated figure.

“Beefing up,fatso? Winter's What? Cat’s got your tongue? Now open wide,” Vince commanded. Sloane shut his eyes, as he stood there being manhandled and fed mouthful and after mouthful after all the beer was gone.

“Please, you’ve made your point. My belly…it aches…I’m going to burst, please stop!” Sloane begged. His groaning increased…almost gaining its own rhythm…as he was forced to swallow. Vince’s hand rested on the top of Sloane’s taut, bloated abdomen.

More? I can’t take much more of this! Sloane’s mind screamed.

He chewed mechanically. When the food was finally gone, Sloane lay back puffing. Thinking his punishment was over. But for the next four hours, Vince viciously slapped and poked his overfull belly. He would be slapped in the face and paddled until his ass was raw and body shaking. And, then he passed out.

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