Chapter 6

Mallory had decided to strike a deal with her evil feeder side. She would make the kind of meals David wanted, but she'd make sure they were cooked with plenty of butter and oil. He wouldn't gain anymore, but she didn't want him to dwindle away too much. She felt guilty about sabotaging his diet, but she couldn't stand the thought of him getting thinner again.

After a few weeks, David felt sure he was getting results. Okay, his old pants still didn't fit, but he went to the gym nearly every day. Or three times a week, at least. And he hardly ever ate anything delicious anymore. Okay, so there had been a couple of times when he had slipped up, or a few times, really. But still, he'd been doing well. He stepped on the scale with confidence. 207 pounds, it said.

"What?!" David gasped. He'd gained weight! How was that possible? Or... he remembered hearing something about muscle weight, how it's common for a person to gain a few pounds when they started working out. Yeah, that was definitely it.

Mallory urged him to try something fun for exercise. He decided to dig out his old skates from high school. He hadn't strapped them on in years, but soon the two of them were at the rink gliding around.

"Hey, look at this," called David, turning around for a fast, fancy backwards manoeuvre he remembered from his days as a forward. His blade caught on a groove in the ice and he found himself falling towards ice that was much farther away than he remembered it being as a kid.

"So, that was fun," said David, crankily as they came out of the hospital.

"I am so, so sorry," said Mallory for the hundredth time.

She helped him get into the passenger side of the car, awkwardly, in his bulky cast.

The broken leg put an end to David's gym days. He decided he needed to pamper himself a bit, so he came off his diet. Mallory was happy to cook him rich pastas and other formerly forbidden dishes. He had some vacation time stored up so he took six weeks off to heal. He spent most of that time on the couch, playing Xbox or watching movies or reading, while Mallory brought him tasty snacks and great big home cooked meals. His belly was on the march again, moving outward onto his lap. His pecs softened and grew. He enjoyed being lazy and gluttonous and waited on hand and foot. He worried about Mallory, though.

"I didn't mean all those things I said, about it being your fault," he said one night, as they lay in the dark.

"I would never want to hurt you," she said, one hand caressing his bulging belly. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said.

They proved those words to each other carefully and tenderly, in the dark.

By the time David got his cast off and went for physical therapy, he was back in elastic-waisted pants and t-shirts. The PT made him get on the scale, which zoomed up to 248 pounds. David waited to feel horror, but he didn't. Nobody made a big deal out of his weight, The PT gave him exercises to strengthen his leg.

Mallory made no mention of his gain, even though she had to have noticed his sagging belly and flabby thighs. He kept eating like a king and the pounds continued to pile on. 250, 260, 270... David continued to grow. He waited mutinously for Mallory to say something.

Finally, one day, she walked in while he was changing. He stood, naked, as she looked as his huge belly, his manboobs, his jowls.

"Wow," she said. "You look..."

He flinched.

"Amazing," she finished. "I am so lucky to have such a gorgeous husband."

He stared.

"Are you serious?" he said.

She nodded, coming closer, tilting her head upward to look him in the eyes.

"Deadly. You better not mention diets again, because I love you this way."

She wrapped her arms around his thick waist, and he wrapped his arms around her protectively.

"See?" she said. "Fat men give the best hugs."