Chapter 1

You know the nightly routine. I've been home from work for an hour, and it's time for me to unwind a bit. I tie you to a chair in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a bra and panties, and make you look at photos of yourself from before on my phone. And as I swipe each pic, you're reminded of days when you actually had a grip on your eating habits. I tell you how fat and out of shape you've become and it's only gonna get worse as I firmly grab you all over, jiggle you, kiss your forehead, and then I step away momentarily.

With you still tied, I bring out a large full body mirror for you to see yourself in. As you closely examine what I've done to you, I leave just to the other side of the kitcen to microwave and blend 4 gallons of ice cream.

The first thing you see is your belly, of course. Who the fuck could miss it? Protruding, wide, and doughy, spilling over your panties and between your fat, creamy thighs... Which you can't quite close entirely now that they're so big. You see your large, fattened breasts spilling onto your belly and to your sides as well. Your eyes move to your plump, pillowy arms that you know you cant lift without them sagging and jiggling. Your bra straps are swallowed by large rolls of fat, each one cascading onto the next, and the next, finally ending at your soft, blubbery hips which are far to wide for the chair you are bound to. Your panties are remarkably outgrown... And between your lap full of belly, and the strings sinking into your lard-padded hips, they are completely eaten and enveloped in pure fat.

Look at what your man is doing to you! And look at what you've done to yourself also, let's be honest. This is the body you asked for with all of your overeating and sedentary lifestyle. Was it worth it, fatty? You look at yourself again. You're an absolute pig with no self control, no longer concerned about your health and physique, but rather with instant gratification of fattening food.

Who are you anymore? The woman you once were doesn't stare back at you. Only a fast food addict who mindlessly eats an average of 6000 calories a day does with a look of wild desperation and concern in her eyes. You then look down at your pile of fat of a body. You've let yourself go so far, you look like you gave up on yourself and surrendered your body to me for my sexual fulfillment.

And you love it too, you fat cow. The second I tell you it's time to be fed, your lack of willpower to say no to food and take back your life turns into sad, sorry submission.

And that's another thought that comes to you; Have you gained this much weight purely because of your own pathetically weak will? Or am I controlling you by playing into your shameful lack of self control so I have something big and fat to nut in every night?

I guess you being tied to a creaking chair might speak to one of the two more than the other, wouldn't it?

I interrupt your thoughts when I come over and lightly grab your fat face and turn it up toward me so I can insert a funnel. With you looking up at me, slightly in fear, I begin filling your funnel. It's cold, creamy and very filling. A little ice cream escapes, falling onto your tits and runs down your fat belly. After 30 seconds I stop pouring and give you a short break, checking on my porky princess to make sure you catch your breath. I wipe some melted ice cream off of your breasts and have you suck it off my finger.

I love running my hands up and down your growing curves. I really like how you spill out when you sit; Your fat pig tits falling on either side of your protruding belly, your double chin enveloping your neck and face, and your chubby thighs spilling over the chair. Such a good pig, only good for feeding and fucking.

You see the outline of my erect dick through my jeans. "You're just how I like them..." I say to you as I prepare your funnel again. "... Fat and obedient." You realize I may not actually have your best interest in mind, that you're simply my fetish. And looking back at yourself in the mirror once again, you know this isn't even the culmination of what I'm going to do to you. That I may never be sexually satiated until your body is completely morbidly obese and useless except to eat and empty my cock into. Perhaps I may not even stop there, and fatten you to death.

"Good girl" you hear me say as you snap out of your internal panic, and realize you've been sucking on your funnel for several minutes without your usual break this time. You love your melted ice cream. You love how cold and thick it is as it fills your beautiful, growing belly. The ice cream, along with my gentle voice and commanding presence lording over you are enough to calm you of your existential dread.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?", I tell you, wiping ice cream from your double chin. Your eyes look up at me, they're drowsy and half open. And without an answer from your busy mouth, they alone tell me you're slipping into your happy place. All of the worries you've had and ever will have wash away as you finish the last of your 4 gallons of ice cream. I kneel down to slowly retrieve the funnel from your mouth, and replace it with my lips. You taste so good, I note to myself as I break away. "I'll never leave you, piggy", I say to you, one hand behind your head, stroking your hair...And the other firmly feeling your bloated belly, full of 14,000 newly added calories.

Though you're too full, exhausted, and sedated to smile, I know you love me, too. Despite you almost confronting me, and seeing through my manipulative, enabling behavior to control your weight, fattening you for my sexual pleasure... You somehow couldn't bring yourself to challenge me. Because you know better than that. You're Daddy's fat pig, and you know your place is beneath me. You know to open your mouth or your legs when I tell you to. And that you deserve every degrading word I speak to you. And tonight you did what you were told like a good girl. Like a fat pig. Just as you had last night. Just as you will tomorrow.