Chapter 7 - Waiting for the BIG day

Well, the worst part was done. We had a date, a venue and a dress, everything else would fall into place naturally in the next 7 months leading up to the wedding.

Honestly, I couldn't really concentrate on the wedding, distracted as I was with the idea of fattening Rachel. It's like the fact that it was a problem now, was making it even more appealling, more tempting.

I spent the first couple of weeks cooking the kind of meals I used to cook back in the day: greasy casseroles, pizzas, burgers, burritos and ordering take out on a nearly daily basis. All of this under the pretext of "celebrating" how well the planning was going.

By the third week of this indulgent mayhem, It was Rachel herself who put a stop to it.
She told me that she was really enjoying the food and my constant attention but she had to fit into a dress in a few months time and we couldn't screw that up.
Fair enough, I really needed a taste of reality to stop my feeder frenzy.

The next few months were therefore quite uneventful. I bought myself a nice three piece suit with a tie, we hired a massive buffet for the wedding, we delivered the invitations, we arranged for some flowers to be delivered on the day and hired a photographer for the event. For our honeymoon we were set on a 3 week cruise through the Mediterranean and southern Europe, a great opportunity to relax after all the haste of the wedding preparations.

Finally, we got to the the week of the final fitting of the dress and Rachel was about to have a panic attack. She genuinely didn't know whether she would fit in the dress. We didn't have any way of knowing her weight as she had reached the 350 pound limit of our scale a while ago, she couldn't remember her measurements form the first fitting, so that was also a dead end and on top of everything else, she was feeling a bit bigger and swollen.

I have to say on my defense, that I pretty much maintained the healthy cooking that we agreed upon, there were some occasional take outs and some over indulgent dinners here and there, but overall, I behaved against my darkest desires.

The day finally came. Rachel had a really light breakfast and didn't have anything for lunch before going to the fitting appointment. Meanwhile I was at home imagining every scenario: the fat bursting out of the dress, the seems ripping apart, her boobs spilling over the top... My feeder mind was having a field day.

Finally, after a couple of hours, Rachel returned home and she was relieved. Apparently, they always order dresses slightly on the bigger side just in case, as you can always take a couple of inches in from them anyway. Even so, Rachel told me it had been a bit of an ordeal to get her into the dress, and a couple of pounds more and it would have been impossible.

On the one side I was relieved as well, my rational side knew this was the best outcome, but on the other hand, my feeder side was pushing me to start fattening her up there on the spot to ensure those few pounds that would definitely burst the dress

The wedding was in 3 days, lord have mercy.